Trinitarian Evangelism

Similar to my obsession with divine sovereignty (an upcoming post), I have also been entertaining the idea of Trinitarian evangelism for about a year. I’m sure there are countless specialty books that delve into this topic specifically, but I haven’t read many of them. So, if I’m repeating something some world famous theologian has said, rest assured it was my idea first… 

Theology has shifted its focus to the Trinity in the last few decades. Part of this is to reformulate some Christian understanding of community. We are to imitate the relational aspect of God. Also, the charismatic movement has placed the “step child of the Trinity”(Van Dusen) on center stage. Uh oh. What do we do with the Holy Spirit?! So, Trinitarian models of theology began to show up (Rahner, Pannenberg, Jenson, Gunton, Moltmann, LaCugna, etc. No, I left Barth out on purpose. He wouldn’t like what I’m saying.). God began to be described as a “society of persons,” rather than some monolithic deity either with Christ or the Father at the center and the Holy Spirit as an ancillary member. This idea ran up hard against the hidden subordinationism evangelical theology implicitly subscribed to. But God can still remain one and be complex at the same time. The atom is a single entity, yet has several parts. If anything, the difficulty in describing God’s nature speaks to his greatness and complexity – something worthy of worship. So this “society of persons” relates, gives, supports, and involves all of its parts – defining love and community in the process. Weird, huh? Yeah, but fascinating, too. But there’s a problem.

 A lot of Trinitarian models continue to treat the Holy Spirit as the “social” or “immanent” Trinity (acting within itself and for itself – basically a conceptual model) when really from a practical standpoint what actually matters is the “economic” Trinity. An economic understanding of the Trinity describes how this society of persons relates to the created order. For the majority of everyday Christians living normal lives, that’s the important part. In other words, how does each “part” of God affect us? Hmmm…good question. That’s where my issues with Trinitarian evangelism come in.

Most evangelical models I know approach evangelism in the following way. After a person is brought to a place of conviction, someone leads a sinner to “accept Christ” or ask “Jesus to forgive their sins.” All that is fine, but where are the other two members of the Trinity? The focus is strictly on Jesus with the fringe benefit of getting the wrathful Father off your case. From what I can gather, we have a very linear way of expressing evangelism that most often includes an irregular form of subordinationism. Only, in evangelism, God the Father is not the top dog – Jesus is. That’s not to diminish the role of God the Son at all. However, if we take the Trinity seriously, we must find a place in evangelism on a practical level for God and for the Holy Spirit as well. I think the problem lies in the fact that we relegate all significance of the cross to ontological premise. But the cross has to be functional as well. In other words, the cross has to supply the bridge that not only allows us to pursue God but also for God to pursue us without inhibition. That includes the other two persons within the Trinity. So, rather than a single moment of evangelism that occurs looking back to the cross, the cross created a functional way for all three persons of the Trinity to simultaneously evangelize creation beyond the cross - even in the present moment, all three are engaged in evangelization of the world.

Rather than see Jesus, Father, and Spirit as a rank and file line for salvation (Jesus appeases the Father who, if you’re lucky, sends the Spirit.), maybe God is better explained as spokes in a wheel. That means that at any point all three persons within God’s “society” are free to pursue and attract any sinner based on which aspect of God he/she connects with the most. And I’m not talking about conceptual ideas of prevenient grace here – all of this falls into that category. What I am attempting to describe is how it looks to us as humans seeking God from the other side. For some, the loving Father is the attraction. For others, the Son holds particular significance. For others, the Spirit and the possibility of “feeling” God is attractive. Each person is different and God draws them by what attracts them to him the most – since he knows our hearts.

So, if God is a interweaving circle, a sinner can traverse along any “spoke” within the Trinity until he/she has reached the center. And there, he/she understands the role of all three persons and their joint, cooperative purpose of reaching him. That’s when salvation occurs. But in this model the Father and the Spirit hold the same level of attraction as Jesus does. Otherwise, only one aspect of the Trinity (Jesus) holds evangelical significance – the others are just for show. This doesn’t minimize the sacrifice of Jesus, his death and resurrection make all the “spokes” on the wheel of evangelism a functional reality.

Learning to “Feel” God

I promised you in the post about Maxie Dunnam that I would follow up by exploring the idea of “feeling” God. Here you go…

Pastoring is a tricky business. Taking concepts developed in an innocuous vacuum of journal articles, magazine op-eds, and…well…blogs and translating them into real life is difficult. Rarely is the transition a smooth one. That’s because pastoring involves people. Theology involves concepts. Though everyone lives from a place of personal theology, the outworking of that personal theology is often drastically different from one person to the next. Nurturing the growth of such a diverse group of folks can be the undoing of any industrious minister. But I’ve noticed something that helps direct my personal ministry. One of the things I feel most “called” to in the ministry is the help people understand and facilitate their ability to “feel” God.

Shane Raynor (the author of Wesley Report- a cyber-hub of all things Methodist) posted his thoughts on the idea of “Actualizing the Holy Spirit.”  Great article. Actualization can describe the integration of an idea of concept on a cognitive or emotional level – a hangover from the concepts of Maslow’s self-actualization and his writings on peak experiences. But personally, I take the idea even farther towards the concept of somatization: the conversion of cognitive, emotional, or spiritual aspects to physical or tangible expressions. For spiritual purposes, it’s the work of  the Holy Spirit in bodily manifestation. Normally in the psychiatric/medical community, that term has negative connotations. But honestly, anything - good or bad, happy or sad – affects us physically. It’s the same idea found in the ridiculously overused term “psychosomatic.” Internal issues result in physical expression. Good dissertation topic: explore the connotations of positive forms of somatization in humans and its theological similarities to the Incarnation as an example of the economy of salvation (oikonomia). Tell me when you’re done and I’ll read it with great interest…

Over the years, I’ve watched many individuals have a spiritual encounter that completely shifted their personal paradigm of God’s nature and immanence. In each of those scenarios, experience (of some sort) confirmed the power of God available to them on a personal level. Personally, it struck me as odd that God would initiate a strong spiritual encounter when I knew that many of those who received it had little to no doctrinal knowledge. I believed God was doing things backwards; after all doctrine comes first, right? But it occurred to me that throughout the history of the church, many people openly rejected any attempt of indoctrination without a prior or accompanying spiritual experience to validate that doctrine’s truth. Once someone has an encounter where they “feel” God, they will desire to know more about the God who provided that experience. God anchors faith in experience until one becomes grounded in proper belief. I began to understand my pastoral role was to disciple a healthy and balanced Christian upon the foundation of those spiritual encounters – not denying their legitimacy or downplaying their appropriateness.

How Christianity translates the supernatural into daily life is the most important aspect of personal spirituality today. Many pastors and theologians are struggling with this. Contemporary Christians are eager to cast off strict, doctrinally-oriented approaches to Christianity without accompanying experience. We ask Christians all the time  to follow their beliefs with actions – that our love relationship with God requires corresponding expression in a personal way. But today’s Christians have turned the tables: they actually expect to understand God’s love through the experiences he provides. 

Christianity has always been a two-pronged religion. One side involves doctrinal ascent to a set of beliefs centering on the finality of Jesus Christ. The other side is more “subjective” – it involves the prospect of “feeling” God through experience. That experience becomes an anchor for faith that can be leaned upon as doctrinal maturity develops. Of course, ministers and theologians get this backwards all the time - we teach doctrine in hopes that it will lead to experience for our congregations. But people’s actions tell us differently. When they are forced to choose between experiencing something on a spiritual level or adopting a particular set of dogma, they most often choose experience, since they ultimately believe that experience will correctly inform their doctrine, not the other way around. In other words we’ve been doing theology backwards. Postmodern Christians don’t say “I believe because I know;” they say “I believe because I feel.” It doesn’t have to be crazy charismatic stuff…but it’s gotta be something.

There are thousands of examples of this throughout church history. But how about a modern example. This video of Brian Head Welch, the former guitarist of Korn, discusses the role of “feeling” God in coming to Christ. Check out his comments about experience starting around 5:20.

Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 2

3) Confining spiritual gifts to conversion: By the time of the Reformation, Christian mysticism had developed into several different strands. The mystical treatises previous to Luther’s time always emphasized the availability of God’s presence in a post-conversion state, similar to the doctrines of sanctification and the baptism in the Holy Spirit of the Holiness and Pentecostal traditions. But Luther consciously rejected these mystics and chose to draw from the work of John Tauler and the anonymous Theologia Germanica instead. Both of these works (and subsequently Luther) taught that all the gifts you need you receive at conversion alone. There is no post-conversion experience and the gifts these works cite are the Isaiah list passed down through Scholasticism. This is really the first place that the idea of “one baptism, many fillings” shows up in Christian history. Any experience a believer can have originates strictly at the salvation moment. There is no baptism in the Holy Spirit other than what the Holy Spirit does to enforce the saving work of Christ.

Because of all of this, Luther’s commentaries pass over most passages that describe Jesus’ healings in the gospels. Miracles have passed away and “no new and special revelation or miracle is necessary” since an “immeasurably greater and more glorious work and miracle” is found in salvation. Tongues is no longer given since the church speaks all languages and only “fanatical spirits and sectarians” would seek such a gift. Luther, like Gregory before him,  attaches merit to not seeking spiritual gifts since “nobody should presume to exercise it if it is not necessary or required.” The inference here is that since God determines all detailed events in life by his sovereignty, the need for signs and wonders should never arise. A miracle would contradict the natural order and ultimately contradict God’s predetermined will.

Calvin towed the line, stating that healing “had its beginning from the Apostles, which afterwards, however, was turned into superstition, as the world almost always degenerates into corruptions.” His cessation sentiments are similar to those before him: “[The possibility of spiritual gifts] either does not exist today or is less commonly seen.” Counterfeit miracles are determined by their association with wrong doctrine rather than their supernatural nature. For Calvin, the more charismatic gifts of 1 Corinthians have mutated into more permanent gifts of the intellect – tongues is seen as the ability to preach in a foreign language and the gift of discernment is the ability to rationally determine false doctrine. That sounds alot like the Reformed tendencies of today to me.

4) Modern expressions of these issues: Charismatics maintained a distinct post-conversion experience until the rise of the the Third Wave movement in Pentecostalism. Beginning in the 1980s with its influence continuing well into the 1990s, the basic premise of Third Wave groups is to embrace the move of the Holy Spirit, particularly the aspects of healing, deliverance, intimacy of worship, and spiritual warfare without disrupting the general church structures or denominations of which they are apart. The phrase was coined by C. Peter Wagner, who spearheaded the doctrinal emphasis of the movement. On a practical level, however, John Wimber and the Vineyard Movement were the driving force behind the Third Wave phenomenon. Wimber, once an associate of Chuck Smith, would eventually separate from Calvary Chapel due to his emphasis on spiritual gifts while choosing to retain a Reformed approach to doctrinal issues. Similarly, Wagner cites a Reformed-based approach to spiritual gifts in describing Third Wave doctrine. This is particularly evident in the Third Wave belief that the baptism in the Holy Spirit only occurs at conversion with multiple fillings that may resemble what Pentecostals would normally consider a second experience. Once again, “one baptism, many fillings” is directly imported from the Reformed tradition. Also, common the Third Wavers is the absence of the gift of tongues. Though the Third Wave movement made some charismatic manifestations acceptable in mainline denominations, it aggressively minimized the distinctive phenomena that had characterized the Pentecostal movement since its inception. Following its Reformed roots, the Third Wave essentially made Pentecostalism non-Pentecostal.

Many theologians, although accepting limited roles of experience, reject a secondary post conversion event. James Dunn, Max Turner, and Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen restrict forms of Spirit baptism to the conversion experience. Unfortunately, even some Pentecostal theologians have gone along with the crowd. Assemblies of God theologian Gordon Fee followed the Reformed tendency to see sanctification as merely a “metaphor for conversion.” So even though charismatic manifestations are now acceptable, all historical attempts to integrate spiritual gifts into Reformed theology have consistently resulted in the diluting of spiritual gifts. Reformed attempts to integrate spiritual gifts have generally left charismatic Christianity a mile wide and an inch deep. History proves this to be true. And though it’s not the popular opinion, I just can’t accept that. I can’t help but feel that Christian spirituality is meant to be deep and event-laden. To minimize the charismata is remove one of the main points of intimacy between us and God. Though others see the gifts as expendable, I’ll take them every time. Can spiritual gifts and Reformed theology co-exist? If historical precedent is any indication, the answer is no.

Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 1

A little while back, I told some fellow bloggers here that I didn’ t think charismatic gifts (the traditional 1 Corinthians list) and traditional Reformed theology were compatible. Though you could write a book on this topic, I do want to address some the issues I believe make them difficult to reconcile. As always, you’re free to disagree and comment. Please know that I am writing this assuming a basic understanding of both topics at hand. I won’t be stopping for definitions and the like. I’ll handle the issues in this order: 1) allegorization of miracles, 2) the Isaiah gift list, 3) confining spiritual gifts to conversion, and 4) modern expressions of these issues.

1) Allegorization of miracles: Even though the gifts of the Spirit were still common during the postbiblical period (even by “scaffolding model” timelines), clergy began to substitute allegorical interpretations for actual miraculous events and charismata. The need for miracles and spiritual gifts began to be seen as an elementary approach to Christianity, similar to the way the Alexandrian school taught that literal interpretation of scripture was beneath a mature believer. Rather, God’s acts of creation and the ”healing” of the soul (conversion) became the true miracles of the church. Augustine, in his Homilies on the Gospel of John, stated, “The Samaritans had waited for no sign, they believed simply His word.” Emphasizing faith that does not require miracles, he stated that mature Christians have “believed on Christ through the gospel; we have seen no signs, none do we demand.” Earlier, disgusted with commoners’ use of amulets to cure disease, Augustine stated that we should “rejoice” when someone is sick “tossed about with fever and pains” in hopes that the gospel “placed at the heart” will “heal it from sin.” Sin was the most urgent “disease” facing humanity. The Reformers picked this line of reasoning up.

2) Substitution of the Christological gifts of Isaiah 11 for the 1 Corinthians 12 list: Around the same time, clergy began to teach regularly on the gifts in Isaiah 11:2-3. The Isaiah list (wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, piety, and the fear of the Lord) became the standard gift “list” associated with the Christian walk. Though it is difficult to speculate exactly why these gifts were chosen over the 1 Corinthians list, some reasons do come to mind. For one, the Isaiah list prophetically describes the giftings of Christ. The church at this time was highly involved in defining Christology against heretical movements and the Isaiah gifts reflected that concern. Secondly, the gifts in Isaiah had less of a supernatural element to them. Wisdom, for example, has a more natural element to it than say, tongues. Counsel could be gained through interaction with creation – the Augustinian vehicle for God’s self-revelation – as opposed to prophecy which required direct revelation and inner experience. Third, the 1 Corinthians gifts appealed to the direct experience of the individual believer – something most ecclesiastical authorities believed was dangerous, particularly after the Montanism “scare.”

The Isaiah list didn’t replace the 1 Corinthians list overnight. Beginning with the Alexandrian school, spiritual gifts were adapted to accommodate theological beliefs. Origen cited language, wisdom, and knowledge as gifts only available to “worthy receivers.” Ambrose, describing the sacrament of confirmation, emphasized the reception of the “sevenfold gift” – listing the traits of Christ in Isaiah 11. Augustine followed suit. Gregory the Great made this substitution permanent. In his famous Pastoral Rule, Gregory wrote a tremendous amount about love and self-control but steered away from any recognition of the power gifts listed in 1 Corinthians. In his commentary on Job, Gregory explained that the seven gifts act as armor against spiritual attack and other evils. In a homily on Pentecost, Gregory specifically addressed the gifts in 1 Corinthians, but in the postbiblical age, he stated they are considered the gift of the clergy alone. Parishioners would do better to focus on the seven gifts that promote fruitful Christian living rather than power gifts that could possibly lead to pride.

We find the consummation of the allegorical and sevenfold gift traditions in the Reformed tradition. Luther’s German translation of the hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus, while referencing the seven gifts, allegorically interprets the gift of tongues as preaching: “You are with sevenfold gifts/The finger of God’s right hand/You deliver the Father’s Word speedily/With tongues into all the lands.”  These ideas are still reflected in Reformed theology today.

I’ll discuss issues 3 and 4 tomorrow…

Pentecostalism: A Postmodern Dream

Following up my controversial post the other day: “Are Christians and Occultists the Same?”, I want to write a little about where I think Pentecostalism fits into our present theological scene. That will require some brief background.

We live in a postmodern world. Oversimplified, we live in a time where the structured safety nets that once held our views of philosophy, religion, science, morality, etc. together have mostly evaporated in Western culture. Some blame the cynicism of world wars, some blame the introduction of eastern religions through Lyndon Johnson’s Immigration Act of 1965, some blame loss of collective national identity, while other point to the deconstructionists. I suppose any of those reasons will do. But what interests me as a pastor is where our present spiritual landscape is taking us.

Something pretty interesting happened a while back in Christian culture. Theology began to shift toward a postmodern view as well. On the backs of philosophers like Alasdair MacIntyre and theologians like Bernard Ramm, postmodern faith began to take hold. I suppose that found its proper outworking in Frei and Lindbeck’s Postliberalism and its popularized (and shallow) knock-off, the emerging tradition, but describing it to you may be simpler. See, in evangelical circles, Christianity for many years was anchored on “propositions”: particular beliefs that guided the interpretation of scripture and formed the bedrock of the faith. Tried and true, these “fundamentals of the faith” guided evangelical theology for years. But slowly, with the encroachment of postmodern thought, those propositions began to be questioned. What meant one thing to one person may mean something totally different to someone else. So how can anyone really determine the true propositions of religion? This sent conservative Christians sounding the alarm, screaming big words like “antifoundationalism” (huh?) and the like. Postmodern thought had taken the Bible off its foundations plunging Christianity into relativism. Spirituality became a free-market with hundreds of choices – it became popular to be “spiritual but not religious.” In postmodern society, doctrine is not important compared to experience and personal belief.

Though conservative evangelicals have been wringing their hands over this scenario for years, trying to protect the “propositions” that were once so easily believed, I think there’s a better alternative. And one that isn’t mentioned very often. See, the rest of the global world went postmodern a long time ago. Some nations never even went “modern” so they could later become “postmodern.” And whether we believe that experience should be valued over dogma or not, there are some statistics that tell us something really important. There are 500 million Pentecostals worldwide – bigger than all other Protestant groupings combined. Only Catholicism is bigger. The rest of the world (while we chose scientific naturalism) went with experience over doctrine. And though we’ve always considered ourselves ahead of the curve,  we are now ”deconstructing” towards what the rest of the planet already knew: experience is (and always will be) the linchpin of faith. On a global scale, to be Pentecostal is to be Protestant. Experience-oriented Christianity is now the majority tradition. You don’t have to like it…but you better deal with it.

That means no one is really interested in hearing someone explain the case for “reasonable faith” or force a set of beliefs upon them. That approach to Christiantiy is now the minority. But people will happily adopt any set of beliefs if experience accompanies that belief system. Get it? So, for a minister interested in reaching people in this present spiritual climate, spiritual gifts are God’s way of making Christianity relevant from an experiential perspective, which is the majority view. Spiritual experience (through the charismata and other spiritual phenomena) was meant to be the anchor to the Christian faith in our pluralistic society. The last time a religious climate rivaled our present one? In the first century of the church. 

Sound doctrine is nurtured upon the foundation of experience, not the other way around. Now, that idea may anger you. That’s okay. Don’t run away from the idea…investigate it. You may find you end up agreeing with me. If you’re not into the whole “charismatic” thing, talk to someone about it…heck, you can talk to me if you want. God created us to experience our faith. That experience can make us relevant to the very people around us.

Are Christians and Occultists the Same?

I’m gonna delve into something radical here. As always, I welcome a chance to dialogue about this. Ready to think outside the box? Let me post a few quotes first and then I’ll explain…

Example one: 

Catholic mystic St. Teresa (1515-1582) basically describes the spiritual gift of words of knowledge that she often received in prayer as “…very distinctly formed, but by the bodily ear they are not heard. They are, however, much more clearly understood than if they were heard by the ear.”

Crossreference Jane Roberts, a classic New Age trance channeler, who described a similar experience in 1963: “…a fantastic avalanche of radical, new ideas burst into my head with tremendous force…I felt as if knowledge was being implanted in the very cells of my body so that I couldn’t forget it – a gut knowing, a biological spirituality. It was feeling and knowing, rather than intellectual knowledge.”

Example two: 

Gottfried Arnold (1666-1714) described a life of union with God where believers became a participant in the nature of God.  Along with ecstatic experiences including spiritual gifts, “He who has reached this high grade of love …will be overcome and almost drunken, indeed, swallowed up” in the presence of God. 

Spiritualist James Martin Peebles wrote revivalist Dwight Moody in a letter concerning the similarities between Spiritualism and Moody’s proto-Pentecostal beliefs in experience: “Yes, my brother, with you I want to see a revival of religion, a return to Pentecostal times, a return to that Christianity which gladdened and glorified the first three centuries after Christ.” Peebles glibly suggested a joint revival circuit with Pentecostals and Spiritualist mediums displaying the power of God together: “…what a power, what a mighty power, under the good providence of God, we should be evangelizing the world.”  To Peebles, the Pentecostal experience merely confirmed his own views.

Example three: 

A Methodist parishioner, after participating in a Mesmeric trance, was described by an observer: “…she appeared to be in a state of ecstatic joy, when she grasped [the Mesmerist's] hand and said: ‘O, Brother Sunderland, this is the happiest state I was ever in. It is heaven…Yes, Brother Sunderland, and this is the same heaven – the same as when my soul was converted and filled with the love of God.’” The Mesmerist was also a Methodist minister.

Theologian Harvey Cox recounts attending a Pentecostal service in Boston.  After an inspiring time of worship, singing and dancing, the minister praised the presence of the Holy Spirit with these words: “Yes, this is the way it ought to be. Yes.  This is the way it’s going to be in heaven.  Yes, and we don’t have to wait for heaven because here at Holy Tabernacle tonight this is the way it is now.” 

 Okay, I’m sure you can see the similarities here. I pulled just a few quotes from hundreds to give an idea of just how similar experiences felt in Christian and alternative religious groups are. Now don’t freak out; just listen. Christians have always had a tendency to reject all such occult experiences as counterfeit and demonic. Modern occultists although valuing the role of experience, usually assign it to the fringes of the unconscious mind. But what if our spiritual history, full of countless examples of people chasing experience, were saying the same thing?

Pentecostalism and Roman Catholicism are the largest Christian groups in the world. Why do you think that is? Pentecostalism is 500 million strong – bigger than all other denominations combined. I think it’s because of their willingness to value experience and the supernatural. Similarly, why do you think Wicca and the New Age movement are gaining ground? Same reason – they value personal experience and the supernatural.

I am a Pentecostal (don’t laugh – you’re the minority, not me) and proud that my Christian heritage includes the quotes of the Christians above. You may have Martin Luther, but we have Tertullian, Symeon the New Theologian, Bernard of Clairvaux (and a host of other mystics), Jacob Boehme, Valentin Weigel, the Pietists, and Horace Bushnell. But I also deeply sympathize with the quotes of occultists above who were disillusioned by the Christianity of their youth and went elsewhere to find spiritual experience. As a Christian, though I feel occultists are misdirected, I also believe their innate desire to seek out spiritual experience is dead on. That’s why they supplemented their formal religion with, say, Spiritualism. They are looking for the level of spiritual vitality that has made Pentecostalism the largest Protestant grouping in the entire world.

There’s a trend in Christian ecumenical circles nowadays: embrace Pentecostalism but relegate spiritual gifts to soteriological functions. Unfortunately, the trend is catching on since people like contemporary music but think spiritual gifts are freaky. Listen up ecumenists – you are destroying the single most important bridge to evangelize other religious groups. Pentecostalism has spread because of its power, not its ritual. You should be bending over backwards to accommodate individual experience in the church, not dismissing it as self-indulgent or immature. Individual experience is what anchors people to the faith. If you remove it from Christianity, you create an environment for people to go searching elsewhere for what you have minimized for the sake of achieving doctrinal consensus.

So what are occultists and others looking for? The same thing Christians are looking for. I think they are looking for the power of the Holy Spirit. In this way, Christians and occultists are the same. All of us are internally “wired” to seek after an experience (praxis) that accompanies our faith (dogma). To deny that experiential element is to reject part of what makes religion effective – a point of spiritual connection that bridges a pathway towards relationship with God.

Come On, Just How Bad Is Calvinism?, Part 3

Let’s turn to the pastoral implications of Reformed theology. At the beginning, even Calvin underestimated just how many people would react strongly against his theology. His first draft of the Institutes barely developed a full understanding of predestination. The practical implications of his views came under such severe attack that by his third revision, his defense of those topics comprised the majority of the Insititutes. And as we’ve seen, plenty of people in history have rejected that view of God. Interestingly, some of the most important Reformed theologians have found that the only way to adopt predestination is to believe that God predestines everyone for salvation except a few reprobates – basically, what amounts to universalism. So what makes Reformed theologians so uneasy? The practical/pastoral implications of their theological system.

The pastoral obstacles in Calvinism are staggering. Though the Reformed belief system in a theological setting seems somewhat reasonable, in a popular/church setting, it quickly gets misconstrued and misinterpreted. Calvinists usually roll their eyes at those who misinterpret Reformed doctrine, but who’s to blame for this? The average Christian attempting to make sense of life’s tragedies or Reformists who assume that most people are simply unable to understand the mysteries of God? As a pastor, I have serious problems with that. To dismiss the average Christians’ concern over God’s nature is to dimiss someone made in the image of God. Any system that refuses to address life’s questions in a way that most accurately meets the needs of average Christians is not practical. It’s theoretical – useless to a caring pastor. Calvinism’s inability to translate into a feasable model for practical Christianity is its main drawback.

In a popular setting, Reformed answers to tragedy and misfortune sound terribly inhumane. Secularists constantly bring this up with good reason. Why would anyone choose to believe that God would ordain miscarriages to allow a time of spiritual reflection for a mother?  The implications are there. Though I personally don’t know why miscarraiges happen, my lack of an answer would never compel me to blindly adopt an explanation that assaults the character of God or crushes the spirit of another human, no matter how neat and tidy it may seem.  Christians lose the respect of others when we say things like the accidental death of a two year old can do more for Jesus than that child’s life could have. We see more popularized versions of this idea in congregational prayers that end all requests with “if it be thy will” or in church marqee signs that say: “Drive Carefully. Cars aren’t the only things recalled by their Maker.”

More importantly, Reformed solutions to tragedy rarely help relieve and emotional suffering. Make no mistake – people who receive answers like, “God is in control of everything” and “This is all part of God’s plan” continue to have questions. They just put those questions on hold until one day “all things” will be revealed. Sorry people, though this sounds spiritually valid, it makes absolutely no sense. Similarly, popular notions of Calvinistic thinking affect the efficacy of prayer. Prayer becomes merely a spiritual discipline with little bearing on life circumstances.

If we take Calvinistic theology to its logical consequences on a practical level, we end up with questions like: why do you protect your children from harm? Or, why do you lock your doors at night? If all events are ordained, you would think people would do better to assist the hand of God in such matters. I actually had someone tell me that exposing children to hazzardous consequences actually helps them learn proper boundaries. That’s fine to believe that but if you start on that slippery slope, which hazzards are appropriate: a fall down the stairs, a hot stove, or drowning in a swimming pool? Are pain and heartache God’s choice means of correction for adults as well? Once again, Calvinists are rolling their eyes at me. They would claim such objections to Reformed theology take the theological system beyond its intent. Exactly. If that’s the case, then theology has no practical value and Calvinism is something trivial to tinker with – like a model airplane or a doll collection.

All that to say this. The popular lesson derived by common Christians from Reformed theology is this: God doesn’t care and I am powerless to affect my circumstances for the better in any way. Calvinism breeds passive resignation in life. Most people walk away thinking “why try?”

Also, as a “charismatic” Christian, Reformed theology has always carried cessationist tendencies. The primacy of the Word is protected against prophetic inspiration. I simply cannot under any circumstances agree to that. People desperately need power to confront the obstacles they face in life. I’m not sure how Reformed “charismatics” can justify their adherence to a doctrine that flatly disputes their own spiritual experiences.

Presently, there is a movement back to Reformed doctrine (mostly riding on the wings of John Piper). Choosing to reject ”seeker-friendly,” superficial models of Christianity, mosaic and emergent traditions are looking for spiritual depth. Many are returning back to Reformed theology. But for a generation that has questioned and created new roles for itself in the Christian world, I find their willingness to settle for Calvinistic views of God to be unsettling. Piper isn’t even apart of your generation. For a generation marked by creativity, that’s not very creative, is it? There are other choices.

Those Christians and secularists who reject Reformed doctrine are not rejecting a system. They are rejecting the view of God that system requires. Pastoral objections abound to Reformed theology because it’s not what theologians assert that is important. It’s what people take from it to interpret their world that determines the validity of any theological system. Pastors understand this and see the merit of it.

I’d rather not have an answer to some questions than find encouragement in a wrong one.

How Can I Know the Will of God?, Part 2

Okay, so now that we’ve covered sovereign will and individual will, let’s explore God’s moral will and how God’s individual plan for us relates to that moral will. This is the part you’ve been waiting for, people!

For each person, what really counts with God is his moral will. Though God can guide you towards a job that is a good fit for you, you won’t be out of his “will” if you choose another job. I actually know a person that chose one job over another because their favorite Christian song was on the radio when they received a call-back from an employer. Honestly, that just makes Christians sound like crazy people! One job over another really doesn’t have that much spiritual significance. God can bless you in either one. What God really cares about is how you treat the people at that job and if you respect those in authority. What about which college to attend? If you’re not sure, pick the one you think is right for you. But above all, let your life reflect the goodness of God while you’re there. Should I go to Africa? Well, if you don’t sense God telling you “no,” and you have a passion to do that, then go. But if you choose to go, allow the compassion of Jesus to consume you as you minister to other people groups. No matter what choice you make, adhere to God’s moral will.

And here’s the best example of all - marriage. Who should you marry? Sorry, that’s not in the Bible, people. It’s your choice (but at least make sure that person wants to marry you, too ). What is in the Bible is how you should treat that spouse once you marry them. Moreover, knowing it’s your choice to marry your spouse places the responsibility for your marriage where it belongs: upon you and your spouse. God may help steer you towards a spouse that “clicks” with you, but you are responsible for making that marriage successful. But what about your “soul-mate,” that “one perfect person”? Don’t you think that enough divorces have occurred by now that everybody is married to the wrong person anyway? Your “soul-mate” is the one to whom you’re married right now. Treat them like they are and your marriage will drastically improve.

Here are the questions everybody is afraid to answer. Ready? Say you make a decision that is not popular with Christians who think they already know what’s best for you. Did you “hear” wrong if other people disagree or if things don’t go according to plan? Not necessarily. Just because things get difficult doesn’t mean you have chosen incorrectly. It just means things are difficult. Jesus had a rough time, too, you know. Nor does abundant blessing mean that you “heard from God” anymore than someone else. There are plenty of people who are successful despite their ungodly lifestyle. Most of all, just because you feel God leading you to do something sacrificial doesn’t mean that other Christians will not take advantage of your generosity. You can bet they will. But, since when does their self-centeredness make your decision wrong? You must decide that doing the right thing won’t change when other people see differently.

Can God “speak” to you deep inside so that you feel that he is leading you in a particular direction? Sure. But that doesn’t happen all the time. If you are unsure about what to do, then make the choice that reflects these timeless biblical truths: love God with all your heart, love your neighbor as yourself, lay down your life for others, and if there’s a sacrifice to be made, don’t wait for someone else to “step up” - make it yourself.

Lastly, as a “charismatic” Christian, I believe God can break in with divine revelation. This is his primary means in helping you make decisions. In contrast to some Christian theology, I believe God would rather speak to your heart than use natural circumstances any day. But we have to be listening. And “fleecing” (like Gideon) is always a bad idea.  Does that mean that a personal prophecy should guide your decisions? No, but it can serve as a spring board – a call to investigate your options for the future.

Don’t be afraid of the idea that God wants to speak to you. After all, he does love you, you know. He doesn’t want to make all your decisions for you. He wants to walk with you through the decisions you make. When fear of acting outside of God’s will paralyzes you from making life decisions, it may be time to reconsider your view of God’s will. Don’t let fear of “missing God” keep you in a state of indecision. Move forward with life, knowing that God’s ultimate will (desire, intention) for you is to be in relationship with him.

Is “Jerusalem” Still Relevant?

We live in what most theologians consider a “pluralistic” society. In other words, religion has almost a free-market feel to it, vying for the attention of its customers. In fact, the last time Western culture was this spiritually open was around the time of Jesus. Up until that point, Christians normally assume that the Bible consists of a religously homogenous environment. That’s not necessarily true, particularly after the division of Israel into the Northern and Southern Kingdoms. I was reading in 1 Kings the other day and something got my attention.

Around Chapter 12, the nation splits after the rule of Solomon and Jeroboahm, the ruler of the Northern Kingdom, decided to essentially replace Jerusalem as the center of worship with two other cities: Dan and Bethel. One in the far south and the other in the extreme north. Jerusalem remained in the Southern Kingdom, available to those willing to make the journey. Of course, the echo of the golden calves and the wilderness narrative are too obvious to ignore as well.

After reading this, I stopped. I’m not one for allegorical interpretations of scripture, but the similarities between this time in Israel’s history and our postmodern religious milieu interested me. Other religious alternatives were now available to the people of both nations, both supported by the kings of their region. Even though Dan and Bethel were available, anyone could still make the trek to Jerusalem to worship God if they desired. The key was that the presence of God available at the Temple cult in Jerusalem had to be more attractive than the easily accessible sites in the Northern Kingdom.

We live in a time where the right to worship at the “Dans” and “Bethels” of the religious landscape are very much available. Yet, anyone can still go to “Jerusalem” – what I recognize as Christianity. But more than ever before, “Jerusalem” has to be appealing, innovative, transformative, and (above all) must rival the experiential elements found among the spiritual alternatives. It must be relevant and powerful in an practical level or else seekers will continue to look for something they can “feel.” Many critics have come and gone decrying the superficiality and triteness of seeking “signs” or “feelings” but honestly, the time for that is over in our pluralistic culture. It’s not enough to state that you are the best religious choice in some authoritative manner. There has to be more available: “proof” of experience and lasting transformation. Of course, as a charismatic, I welcome this environment – experience is important to me. Those who negate spiritual experience have plenty of reasons to be concerned.

The reality is that more than ever before, spiritual seekers have religious options, all maintaining their own validity and authority. The appropriate response to this environment is to responds quickly and assertively by asking this question: what does “Jerusalem” have to experientially give that others do not? That question…and that one alone…determines who goes to “Dan” or “Bethel” and who makes the journey to “Jerusalem.”

The “Playfulness” of God

I created a good bit of cyber-confusion at this post. Though there was some disagreement over doctrinal issues and charismatic manifestations, what grabbed my attention the most was the difficulty commenter had with my description of God as “playful.” Finally, one of my cyber-friends pointed it out (about the sixth person) and asked me to clarify my “colorful choice of words.” I thought I would do that as a separate post since it may spawn its own set of comments and questions. So here’s the question: Sam, what do you mean by the playfulness of God?

Thanks for asking! I’ll be happy to expound my views here. And, no, I didn’t misspeak when I used a word that is not normally associated with the Creator of the universe. It was meant to grab some attention. Maybe even change some minds as to how one can view God.

When I say the “playfulness” of God, I am attempting to describe God’s inter-Trinitarian nature. See, since the beginning of time God has existed in three persons. He didn’t split into parts at John 1 and Acts 2. God is the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. Before the creation of the world, God interacted within his own persons, giving and receiving from each part in communion and unity, expressing the reality of his nature: love (1 John 4:7-11). Scholars (Jenson or Fiddes are good places to start) call this concept perichoresis: the equal interpenetration and mutual indwelling of divine persons. Trinitarian theology in this regard is still making its way into the popular religious mind. Due to subordinationism’s subtle influence on Protestant theology, perichoresis may sound strange to you. I always had a monolithic view of God with very separate roles for Jesus and the Holy Spirit as a younger Christian. I never thought about their involvement with the Father, prior to creation. For me, God was a static deity – one where activity was unnecessary since he had done everything he needed to before my arrival. I have since come to another conclusion. God more accurately represents reciprocity and cooperation.

God is “playful” in the way he relates to each person of the Trinity and how he relates to us. He’s dynamic, social, interactive, and above all, recreational. That’s the word I like to use. He draws significance from interaction and co-habitation. He seeks relationship for relationship’s sake. As such, humans, made in the image of God, are meant to be social, recreational, and interdependent upon one another as well. We are called to be more than human – we are called to be co-human: humans in communion with God and each other. That’s why God created the world – so he could interact with it, affirming its significance. God is the essence of loving community…and draws us to share in his goodness.

The problem with such language about God is that we have not passed the functional aspects of God into our conceptual framework of deity. What? Okay, normally, we see the opposite. We have conceptual (ontological) ideas of God (God is love, peace, justice, etc.) yet, those never find their way to a place of functional praxis. God is peace – but how does that peace manifest itself to us on a daily (economic) basis? God is with us, but how is God for us? In talking about the Trinity we have the opposite problem. We understand functional roles of the Father, Son, and Spirit, ( see 2 Corinthians 13:14, John 3:16, or John 16:5-15 for examples of functionality) but have trouble making the leap as to how this may change our conceptual view of God. If God is a monolithic deity, then the Trinity is not being taken seriously. If we apply functional aspects of the Trinity from the Bible to our conceptual view of God, then God looks like what I describe above.

But the real issue behind this is: if God is relational and recreational, then why do we consistently require God to be overly stern, serious, and angry all the time? He’s that way because we want him to be…or need him to be. There are plenty of scriptures in the Bible about God’s character that reflect the “playfulness”  of God. Psalm 145:7-8. Psalm 35:27. Isaiah 61:1-3. Isaiah 62:5. Zephaniah 3:17. Matthew 11:25-29. Luke 10:21. Luke 15:6. Ephesians 1:5-9. This is a much a part of God as any other “serious” characteristic of God, like wrath. If that has functional attributes, then “playfulness” does as well. Maybe I’m just a “glass half full” kinda guy. I used to believe that God had to be serious in order to be sovereign. Now, I think his willingness to relate in community to us speaks to his great kindness and goodness. With character unmatched, he enters into our lives fully expecting interaction and reciprocity for those he loves so dearly. That requires a social God of recreation – a God willing to “play.”

Any questions, comments, clarifications, or shouts of heresy?