Understanding Leadership

Posted on December 22, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

Max DePree is widely quoted for saying, “The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality.”

If it is possible that DePree is correct, what can we make of this idea? Surely it is counterintuitive in relation to what we think we want in leaders. When we say, in our churches or in our political entities, “We want new/better leaders!” just what is it we take ourselves to be needing? Do we recognize that we lack a proper grasp on reality?

My perception is that this is far from what we think we need. When we cry for leadership (as I see happening these days), I hear a cry to Make Things Happen! Our congregations are dying, being aged out of existence. Our denomination as a whole is suffering, wondering if we’ll still be here in a decade. We desperately need leaders who will Make Things Happen. Or to put things a bit less stridently, we need leaders who will bring about our desired outcomes.

That sounds good to me. Seeing a leader as someone who Makes Things Happen in an organization makes good sense. As a leader I certainly want to Make Things Happen. I don’t want my organization to die or just fade away. I can also be more specific. I want to reach more people. I want to see more people come to faith in Jesus and live as devoted disciples. I want to see the members of the church more actively committed to living out the church’s mission. If all these things were improving, quantifiably increasing, that is, then I could reckon myself to be a good leader.

But what if not making things happen isn’t the problem? What if the root problem is a faulty view of reality? What if DePree is right?

While it is plenty challenging to Make Things Happen, at least when we do we are often making people happy. It feels good to make people happy. But how many people perceive themselves to have a defective grasp of reality? How many people come to leaders saying, “Please help us perceive, understand, and navigate reality better?” If we were to say something like that, we might have to admit that we have some real weaknesses now.

Though I feel the pressure to Make Things Happen – since there are so many good things that need to happen – I’m attracted to DePree’s adage. What does “defining reality” look like in the church? I’ve argued elsewhere that doctrine functions to help us understand and live in the context of God’s continuing activity in history. When we properly grasp Christian doctrine, we can identify the characters, the setting, and the plot line up to now. With this identification in hand, we can then take the step of joining the drama ourselves. If we understand doctrine in this manner, then the proclamation and ecclesial instantiation of doctrine sounds an awful lot like what DePree calls “defining reality.” If all this is correct, then our leadership must be rooted in the practice of Christian doctrine and let our reality be defined by that rather than by what our culture (or modernity in general) has to offer.

Posted in Discipleship, Leadership, United Methodism | Leave a comment

Social Deviance

Posted on December 14, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

One of the courses offered at my undergraduate institution was in Social Deviance. I didn’t take the course, but had many friends who took it. Since I haven’t taken the course, what I say here is not based on any official literature on deviance. Instead, I’m going by what I’ve observed and what I can bring from other fields of discourse.

Once upon a time in America deviance was bad. Deviance got you in trouble. Trouble could mean prison, an asylum, or oppressive social stigma. We are now at the point where deviance has become the norm. Instead of conforming to societal standards, we are supposed to be radically individualistic, blazing our own trail, creating our own values from scratch.

Absolute creativity and individuality is a challenge. While our rhetoric is in favor of deviance we run into a couple of problems. First, our push to non-conformity has often taken on the look of being completely different “just like everyone else.”

http://doroteos2.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/conformity2.jpg

Second, because deviance has become mainstream we have become (again) blind to easy conformity and its institutions. We have built up a whole industry, both governmental and NGO to codify and enforce a political correctness that specifies socially legitimate ways of being deviant. Deviate from accepted deviancy and it’s back to prison, the asylum (re-education and sensitivity seminars) and social ostracism).

Third, and most important from a church perspective, the church has become more strongly entrenched in avoiding its peculiar mission of deviancy. We – and by “we” I mean the segments of the church who haven’t hopped on the pro-deviancy bandwagon of the larger culture – think it’s our job to enforce the societal norms and ways of doing life from the time before deviancy went mainstream. Conservatives who take this point of view are aligning with their host culture just as much as the liberals who align with a different culture, just picking different iterations of the culture with which to align.

In a blog post this week Bishop Will Willimon writes about a church in his conference that has an unusually high attendance to membership ratio. For those unfamiliar with the current reality of United Methodism, it is most common for churches to have many more members than they have in average attendance. Here’s how his correspondent explains his church:

A while back I got a letter from you requesting a response about why our attendance is so much higher than our membership. For us, it is pretty simple…we make membership mean something. Everyone who seeks membership must go through a 12 week class and retreat and we have expanded the membership covenant to be more specific in the commitments we are making. So everyone who becomes a member, commits to worshipping weekly in at least one house church (unless sick or out of town or some other emergency that can’t be avoided), spend time daily in Bible study and prayer, lives in love and peace with members/attendees of CCWW, and be involved in at least one ministry of CCWW in a hands-on capacity.

I explain membership something like this: “Membership is not about belonging. Everyone belongs; everyone is welcome. Membership is not about gaining special privileges…becoming a member does not mean you get something that non-members do not get. Rather, membership is about a commitment that you believe God is calling you to serve him by serving the church.”

I put a link to this post on Facebook last night wondering if any of my friends had experience in a church like this. My brother-in-law responded, indicating that his church was a “high expectation” church. After being raised United Methodist, he is now a member in the Orthodox Church. When I look at the way Orthodox do church, I don’t see much that looks like mainstream America. They don’t conform to the pre-1960s American way. Neither do they conform to the current deviancy for deviancy’s sake. In avoiding these two models, they are deviant in a different way. From what I see of Orthodoxy in its home territories this kind of deviancy of largely lacking. Orthodoxy captured Russian and Eastern European culture long ago, and while it may not have the cultural dominance it once did, it is still taken as the “normal” way to be Christian.

A church culture that seeks the lowest common denominator in terms of doctrine, that considers tolerance and what it calls “non-judgmentalism” to be the highest virtues, that out of fear of losing its few remaining members or running off the “young people” refuses discipline, (I think of Barna’s end of year review) is a church culture that will likely always struggle with having a significant percentage of members involved in active membership. Why bother to pay the price when being a Christian/Church member is largely indistinguishable from being a good citizen – whether “good citizen” be taken as conforming to the “deviancy is bad” or the “deviancy is good” model?

The church needs to learn how to cultivate a Gospel defined deviancy. we are deviant not merely so we – as individuals or as a group – can “express ourselves.” Our mission is to stand for Jesus, shine his light in the darkness, and offer life and hope to people. Our life together as the church, as followers of Jesus, ought not to make sense to those who pick, say, conformity to 1950s American values or to those who promote the deviancy for deviancy’s sake. By finding our identity and communal definition in the story of Jesus, we’ll be seen as weird – as deviant – by most of the folks around us. When we learn how to value a gospel defined deviancy, we’ll gain the wherewithal to structure our life together in a way that creates a healthy high-expectation ministry.

Posted in Consumerism, Culture, Ecclesiology | 1 Comment

Being Human

Posted on December 13, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

Once upon a time it was common to differentiate humans from the rest of creation by calling us “rational animals.” Animals differ from plants, minerals, fungi, bacteria, machines, etc., and in important ways our human differences are differences we share with other animals. The tradition specifies further that we differ from all animals by our rationality. We are rational, they – apes, dolphins, frogs, flies, fish, etc. – are not. we’ve since learned that things are a bit more complicated, proposing numerous other ways of thinking of humans. One recent study is Alasdair MacIntyre’s Dependent Rational Animals. It’s well worth consideration.

While I think it is correct to speak of human rationality (as a preacher/teacher/blogger/parent I appeal to it), I’m more convinced than ever that an exclusive focus on human rationality leads to many difficulties. I don’t have time for a full exploration of my thoughts (there I go being rational again!), but I’m currently prodded in that direction by a TED talk by Sir Ken Robinson. We in the church do a lot of education. We surely need to educate the minds of disciples. What our minds do and how they function is important. But I don’t think our mind work alone will make fully devoted followers of Jesus. I also think that if we focus only on the mind, the mind work itself will fail.

Here’s the TED video. What do you think?
http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf

Posted in Discipleship, Education | Leave a comment

Downside of Demonizing

Posted on December 7, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

“Demonizing” our opponents can be great fun. When we demonize groups we offer reasons why any compromise or shared action must be ruled out before we begin. Knowing that over demonization is not politically correct, we never admit to it (that what those other folks do!), but we sure see a lot of it anyway.

I’d like to argue that demonization is a bad strategy, not simply because it is impolite, rude, mean, or immoral. Rather, if our objective is for our position to “win” – whatever that means, then demonization is counter-productive.

There is real difference in the world. In the world of American politics there are real and substantive differences between conservatives and liberals. In the world of religion there the differences between Christians and Muslims are also real and substantive. These differences sometimes result in conflict, war, death, and destruction. If, in the “War Against Terror,” we are in conflict with an Islam that is inherently and unambiguously violent at its core, there will be real consequences for us – and a perceived imperative to brook no compromise or collaboration with the Enemy. We must tell the truth, hard as it may be to hear.

Folks have often commented that they think I am deluded or soft-headed when it comes to Islam. When I hear comments or read comments on Facebook that put Muslims or Islam beyond the pale, I commonly put in contrary views. I do that not because I am a closet Muslim or because I am a relativist in religious matters. I do it precisely because I passionately believe Jesus is the way, the truth and the life, and this not just for me, my church, or my culture. I whole-heartedly believe Jesus is for all people, regardless of their culture, nationality or religious background.

Part of my unwillingness to demonize is that it seems un-Jesus-like. Sure Jesus was plainspoken toward the scribes and Pharisees (consider Matthew 23). But he seemed willing to talk to anyone in almost any context. So part of my resistance is a consequence of my Christianity.

But I’m also unwilling to demonize for practical and prudential reasons. When it comes to politics and religion I am fail to find convincing evidence for essentialism. If essentialism is false, then every political position, every religious tradition, is constituted by particular practices and sets of arguments happening through time. None are unchanging. Thus it is possible for a position/tradition/group that I consider wholly and deeply wrong now, to come around to the truth later on. I view my staying engaged with them is a necessary part of their coming around.

Am I thinking that they’ll think something like, “Ah, this guy is so nice. I wish I could be that nice. I think I’ll become a Christian so I can be nice too?” Not at all. Oh, there might be an occasional person who thinks that way – maybe once or twice a century.

Am I being honest? Maybe, maybe not. Taking our relations with Islam, for example, it is possible to read the Quran and the Hadith in such a way that one might conclude that Islam is necessarily a “religion of violence,” and not as that famous interpreter of Islam, George W. Bush said, “a religion of peace.” I am thoroughly convinced that it is better for me – and for others – if Islam is not a religion of violence. Some will take the possibility of configuring Islam as a religion of violence, not just in theory but in the work of several actual Muslims (who get lots of press), and tell me I’m being dishonest here, simply engaging in wishful thinking. “You want Islam to be peaceful so you act as if it were peaceful. But we have plain evidence that it is not peaceful.”

But remember, I reject essentialism. Any time I say of Islam (or any other social phenomenon) I am not offering a pure description. To use some terminology from John Searle’s speech act theory, while my claims have a modicum of a “word to world direction fit” (i.e., try to describe the world accurately), they are even more working in the direction of “world to word direction of fit” (i.e., trying to get the world to match my words). When I say, “Please pass the salt,” I am not describing the salt but trying to effect the motion of the salt shaker toward me. If there is no connection with reality – no salt, no person with me at the table, for instance – my request will fail. But my request fails equally when my dinner companions are grumpy or, believing salt is bad for me, refuse to pass it to me.

By staying engaged with those who are now set as my opponents, I remain part of the argument that defines who they are and what they are about. If we as Christians stay engaged with Muslims, we will have a say in what Islam is. Necessarily this is very indirect. It is also reflexive – considered a danger by some. As long as our engagement is dialogical rather than monological (or merely in instance of the force of arms, technology or ideology), then they get a say in what my tradition is also. When we demonize we may be safe from influence from those outsiders (though I think that safety is largely illusory), but we also miss the opportunity of influencing them.

I have political opinions. For the most part, I think my political opinions are correct – and better than those of the people I disagree with. But I’m not sold out to politics. I am sold out to Jesus. Because I follow Jesus and seek to be an agent of his Kingdom, I cannot miss out on the opportunity of influencing others toward him, even if staying engaged takes time or is dangerous. Maybe it will have a century. Maybe a few centuries. But the possibility of influencing another tradition towards Christ is worth it.

Posted in Alasdair MacIntyre, Clash of Civilizations, Diversity, Ecclesiology, Islam | Leave a comment

Henotheism for Christians?

Posted on December 7, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

I ask the henotheism question, guessing most Christians would reject polytheism without much thought. The Christian tradition has, in its development of the doctrine of the Trinity, sought to safeguard the monotheistic convictions so clearly proclaimed in the Old Testament. There is one God, and after the life, death and resurrection of Jesus – and the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost – we know that one God as Father, Son and Spirit. No polytheism for us.

But what of henotheism? Is the belief that there are many gods, but only one God – only one for us – good enough? In a recent New York Times column, Harvard philosopher Sean D. Kelly suggests polytheism as a model for our society, a way to avoid the “self-deception” and “dangerous religious fanaticism” that come from “the monotheistic aspiration to universal validity.” He has in view here the traditional Christian belief that Jesus is the way for all people anywhere, that our faith is not merely a tribal faith but a universal faith.

The background of his piece is Nietzsche’s obituary for god. While god was still going strong in Nietzsche’s day. “What do you mean, Fred? ‘God is dead?’ Surely not! I see churches on every street corner. Most of our leaders profess to be Christians. Most identify our country as a Christian country. How can you say ‘God is dead?'” For Kelly – and he is neither alone nor innovative in saying this – what may have been counter intuitive is now evident to all.

But which god is dead? Kelly explores the meaning of Nietzsche’s claim:

at least one of the things that Nietzsche could have meant is that the social role that the Judeo-Christian God plays in our culture is radically different from the one he has traditionally played in prior epochs of the West.  For it used to be the case  in the European Middle Ages for example ? that the mainstream of society was grounded so firmly in its Christian beliefs that someone who did not share those beliefs could therefore not be taken seriously as living an even potentially admirable life.  Indeed, a life outside the Church was not only execrable but condemnable, and in certain periods of European history it invited a close encounter with a burning pyre.

Whatever role religion plays in our society today, it is not this one.  For today’s religious believers feel strong social pressure to admit that someone who doesn’t share their religious belief might nevertheless be living a life worthy of their admiration.

Though this god of social sanction and support has long been identified with the God of the Christian tradition (even by Christians), this is the god of Emile Durkheim, a god who is Society writ large. The Order of Society, the sanctioning force that gave meaning to life in that society, that was god. From a transcultural perspective this is a polytheistic point of view. Each society, each culture, projected its own ideals, its own myths, creating its own gods. As societies warred, their gods warred with each other for supremacy.

But  a problem arose, and here is where I most appreciate Kelly’s essay. Even while Feuerbach and Durkheim were developing varieties of projectionist theories, others were finding no overarching meaning to life, no sanctioning force – i.e., no god. god was dead for them. It was this experience, this nihilism, that Nietzsche identified. It is not just that god is dead on the international level, but also on the intranational level, on the level of individual societies. A single society no longer has a god of shared norms and values presiding over it. We’re on our own.

The death of our local Durkheimian, projected god, will be good for true Christianity – though difficult for our churches, which for at least a few generations have depended on our culture and its god being the same as the true God. If society’s god was the real God, then we could trust – and expect – society to make people into Christians by pasting a veneer of moralism and vague spirituality on their personality. There was no practical need for personal commitment or discipleship (with discipleship seen as taking up particular disciplines) as long as everybody was doing it. The death of that local god will result in smaller churches, but hopefully those churches will be more Christian.

Kelly recognizes a difficulty with nihilism and counts it as worthy of serious attention. He observes:

But there is a downside to the freedom of nihilism as well, and the people living in the culture may experience this in a variety of ways.  Without any clear and agreed upon sense for what to be aiming at in a life, people may experience the paralyzing type of indecision depicted by T.S. Eliot in his famously vacillating character Prufrock; or they may feel, like the characters in a Samuel Beckett play, as though they are continuously waiting for something to become clear in their lives before they can get on with living them; or they may feel the kind of “stomach level sadness” that David Foster Wallace described, a sadness that drives them to distract themselves by any number of entertainments, addictions, competitions, or arbitrary goals, each of which leaves them feeling emptier than the last.  The threat of nihilism is the threat that freedom from the constraint of agreed upon norms opens up new possibilities in the culture only through its fundamentally destabilizing force.

Kelly’s solution? Smaller, more local gods. A god for me and my family, a god for my community or lifestyle enclave. And we’d have to recognize the smallness of these gods, refraining from the “self-deception and fanaticism” entailed by larger, more universal claims.

Thus my question about henotheism. Kelly, keeping a Durkheimian projectionist account of divinity, wants us to admit multiple deities, but allows that to avoid nihilism it would be useful for us to pretend (though not too loudly or energetically) that our personal god is the “real” god for us.

While I recognize the power of projectionist accounts of god – they identify a reality that has clearly played a role in our world – I also recognize these gods as idols, false gods, competitors of the true God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. I’m happy then, with Nietzsche and his pals to say that god is dead – assuming that the dead god is the societally projected god of uniform norms, national identity (and superiority) and moral sanction. But the God who called Abraham and his descendants, the God who sent his only Son, the God who gifts us with the Spirit, that God, is alive and well. That God doesn’t depend on social recognition or unanimity. That God can call his own people – and all nations – to account.

Can Christians then be henotheists? Can we recognize the reality of the small gods out there – Mammon, Mars, Aphrodite and Nike (though perhaps in different uniforms) are particularly popular in our current culture – and just say, “I have my personal relationship with Jesus, you have your personal relationship with Nike?” Not if we take the Bible as our guide. The God of the Bible – the God of Israel, the God of Jesus and the apostles – is a jealous God. This God made all people and calls for their allegiance to his kingdom. But since this God is not a projected societal god, our commitment to this kind of universalism need not entail that we murderously enforce faith in our God. In fact, since we gain our clearest view of what this God is like through Jesus, we that that approach is explicitly ruled out. Rather than forcing God on people, our calling as Jesus people is to the role of suffering witness (I’m thinking of the context surrounding 1 Peter 3:15).

Polytheism? No. Henotheism? No. Violent monotheism? No. Complete allegiance to Jesus? Absolutely.

Posted in Current events, Friedrich Nietzsche, God, Nihilism, Violence | 1 Comment

Global Faith Forum

Posted on November 16, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

Last week I attended the Global Faith Forum in Keller, Texas. As a United Methodist, I’m part of a tradition that loves dialogue. We tend to be universalists, if not in theory, then in our ethos and our practice. We never want to believe – let alone say – that a practitioner of another religion is wrong.

But I’m also an evangelical. While universalism is making inroads into the evangelical tradition, it is still very much a minority position (at least when it comes to theory). Evangelicals think all people, regardless of their current moral condition or connection (or non-connection) to a religious community, need to come to explicit faith in Jesus. While United Methodists and members of other mainline denominations are usually comfortable in dialogue and conversation with participants in other religious traditions, Evangelicals’ comfort is often proportional to the evangelistic ardor and clarity of the event. If we’re there offering Christ to people so they can come to faith in him, well, that’s entirely appropriate. Anything less smells of compromise. Mark Galli, one of the speakers at the event tells of this response.

The convener of the event, Bob Roberts, pastor of NorthWood church, reiterated his commitment to evangelical theology throughout the event. He’s a “Jesus is the way, the truth and the life” kind of guy. He wants all his Muslim, Jewish, Communist, and Atheist friends to come to faith in Jesus. He believes their eternal destiny is dependent on their relationship with Jesus. Even so, the immediate purpose of the event was not what most evangelicals would consider evangelism. He did not press the non-Christians present to convert. So is he a traitor to the cause?

I think not. Instead, he is recognizing that real evangelism takes more than the clear enunciation of the facts about Jesus. Before people can even consider the message about Jesus, they need to consider the messenger. Is this person (or community) credible? Is their message about Jesus exemplified in their lifestyle? Is this witness credible as a person?

Roberts knows – and it’s not too much of a leap to admit it – that in many setting over the past several centuries Christians have not been perceived as credible witnesses to those far from our tradition. If we are perceived as agents of Jesus and not merely as a sort of religious anesthetic to let western colonialism go down more easily, we have to also avoid the impression of being spiritual headhunters. Do we really love people? Do we really care for them? Or do we just want to be able to crow, “I led a Muslim to Christ?” Roberts wants to communicate genuine love, understanding and friendship. If his friends want to take up faith in Jesus, he’d be overjoyed. But he’ll love them and be their friend even if they don’t.

Robert’s strategy fit well with the advice of Thursday’s keynote speaker, Ed Stetzer. Stetzer’s first two points were:

  1. Let each religion speak for itself.
  2. Talk with individuals not merely abstract faiths.

The essentialist view of religion, that each religion, in its essence, is monolithic, doesn’t fit well with the diversity we see in the world around us, though it does fit well with the views of some Muslims – I think of Sayyid Qutb of the Muslim Brotherhood, and their judgment that the vats majority of Muslims are not true Muslims. Perhaps Christian readers can think of Christians who think similarly (it shouldn’t be hard). Taking an anti-essentialist view – as we find in Stetzer’s theory and Robert’s practice – we only learn what other religions, Islam for example, believe, practice and stand for as we engage with actual practitioners. We cannot say in advance, merely on the strength of our course in world religions, or having read a textbook, that what we associate with a particular religion actually reflects the belief and practice of any given adherent. So we see Bob Roberts not only reading all the books (at least several of them) by John Esposito, a scholar of Islam, but also spending time with Muslims from around the world.

Looking at Ed Stetzer’s blog last week, some folks were convinced he was going over to the dark side, given that he was speaking at the Forum (a Forum sponsored, in part, by the nefarious Council on Foreign Relations), so saying the Roberts was listening to him, may not seem a very effective defense.  But I can think of another that Roberts might have learned from. Jesus.

I think of Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4.  (Was it Eboo Patel who mentioned that text?) Jesus’ conversation with her illustrated some key practices we who are concerned with evangelism might consider. First, Jesus uses indirection. As in every other conversation, this conversation is unique. He takes what is at hand (water, thirst) and starts a conversation.  Second, Jesus wasn’t in a hurry. He was willing to take some time. While our evangelistic conversations might wander around, we often feel discouraged if they don’t end up with someone praying the sinner’s prayer then and there. When Jesus’ conversation with the woman is interrupted by the return of his disciples he hasn’t even gotten to the first Spiritual Law. And yet he tells his disciples that he has been rejuvenated.

When we engage with individuals – as Jesus did, as Bob Roberts did – we aren’t operating on a “they could die any moment and face eternity” timetable. We’re entrusting our friends into God’s hands, trusting that God will take the lead. While the temporal urgency we hear in our evangelism training might be good theory, I just don’t see the practice carried out in Scripture. Jesus doesn’t do it, Paul doesn’t do it. In the OT we don’t even see God doing in his dealings with Israel.

So what can we make of the Global Faith Forum and other efforts to converse with non-Christians? As an instantiation of a strategy of love, indirection, and committing for the long haul, I – as a United Methodist and an evangelical – am attracted to the model.

Posted in Clash of Civilizations, Culture, Evangelicalism, Evangelism, Friendship, Globalization, Islam | 2 Comments

Dissenting from Mr. Locke

Posted on November 1, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

Though he wrote over three hundred years ago, John Locke’s writing on toleration, and the relationship between church and state is still of great relevance in our culture. Consider this article on proposed legislation (from the executive branch – only odd when you consider things from a constitutional perspective). The author notes:

But in order to qualify for that exemption, schools must meet the DOE’s new definition of a religious school. According to the DOE, “an institution is considered a religious institution if it is owned, controlled, operated, and maintained by a religious organization lawfully operating as a nonprofit religious corporation and awards only religious degrees or religious certificates including, but not limited to, a certificate of Talmudic studies, an associate of biblical studies, a bachelor of religious studies, a master of divinity, or a doctor of divinity.”

This definition excludes colleges from Georgetown to Notre Dame and from Baylor to Wheaton. Not only are many of the country’s religious schools not maintained or operated by a religious organization, but almost all of them award degrees that are not religious. And a few religious schools operate as for-profit institutions as well.

Following Locke, these educrats assume that religion has its realm – the religious, something that is purely private and, well, religious – and the state has the material or public world. While a school that limited itself to ” a certificate of Talmudic studies, an associate of biblical studies, a bachelor of religious studies, a master of divinity, or a doctor of divinity” is operating within the limits set by Locke, other schools – the Georgetowns, Baylors, Wheatons and their ilk – are straying off the Lockean reservation. They have audaciously moved beyond the purely religious to teach subjects like science, math, history, the arts, etc., thinking that their “religious” convictions have bearing on the whole world, not just our interior or our eternity.

The Lockeans will respond that education is a public good, subject to public surveillance. Those religious schools that do stray off the reservation are free to operate, but they may not expect any funding for them or for their students. Of course having taken over the whole apparatus of the funding and accrediting of higher education over the past generation or two, the state seems a bit disingenuous about all this.

Posted in Education, Higher Education, Politics | Leave a comment

Fight, Flight or Engage – 2

Posted on October 29, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

But not everyone has been adequately tutored by Mr. Locke, not even all Christians – not even all American Christians. Some dare to question Locke when he speaks of toleration as “the chief characteristic mark of the true Church.” Others dare to question him when he hands over the material world to the Magistrate, sure that the true church has no interest in anything other than ferrying souls into eternity.

With the English Civil War in his childhood, and the Glorious Revolution just past when he wrote his Letter Concerning Toleration, Locke had reason to speak highly of toleration. The toleration of which he spoke was not the absolute toleration we pursue today, a toleration of almost everything. When he identifies toleration as “the chief characteristic mark of the true Church,” he is speaking specifically of Christians tolerating other Christians. Well, at least Protestants tolerating other Protestants. We take toleration much farther. Though some of us may know Locke’s role in the history of tolerance in America, we might be more inclined to look to Jesus as our authority, specifically the Jesus who said, “Judge not, lest you yourself be judged.” Jesus said it; I believe it; that settles it. What could be plainer?

Unfortunately, scripture isn’t quite that plain. When we consider the whole of Jesus’ ministry, he seems to be engaging in quite a bit of what looks to us like judgment, usually directed toward the Pharisees and their buddies. Check out Matthew 23 and see Jesus at work there. What Jesus has to say there would fit the definition of what most of us today would call “judging.” Is this a case of Jesus being a hypocrite, of Jesus saying, “Do as I say, not as I do?” I see at least two ways to avoid attributing hypocrisy to Jesus.

The first way to read deliver Jesus from charges of hypocrisy with regard to the apparent inconsistency between “Do not judge” and “You white washed tombs, etc.” would be by saying he’s an exception to the rule. We’re not usually big fans of exceptions to our general principles (unless we need one for ourselves). If we have a general rule, it needs to apply equally to everyone.

I was talking to a group about this once. I said, “Suppose I walk out into the parking lot and find a car I really like. I look this way and that, and seeing no one, I get in and drive off. Have I done a good thing or a bad thing?” The immediate judgment was that I’d done a bad thing. “You’re not supposed to steal” was the general rule they mentioned. I agreed that that was a pretty useful principle. Then I added, “What if it was my car? Would that make any difference?” They all agreed it was ok to drive off in my own car.

What if we understand Jesus’ relationship to people to be fundamentally different than our relationship to people? Sure, there are commonalities. We’re fellow humans, we’re called by good to love each other and seek each other’s good. But Jesus, while human, is more than merely human. Jesus is also God in the flesh. Jesus is also the Messiah. Jesus is also the Judge. In these roles Jesus is in a position to judge when I am not, just as I am in a position to drive away in that beautiful car when you are not (since I own it).

This defense of Jesus would likely appeal to those who quickly and easily ascribe great things to Jesus. Jesus is the exception to all rules. He says not to judge, but being divine, it’s ok for him. So he judges. He says that when some one treats us violently (say, slaps us on the cheek), we should not respond in kind. But again, being divine, Jesus does respond in kind – when they come at him with whips to beat him, or hammers and nails to fasten him to the cross, he defends himself, beating them to a pulp. Oh, wait. He doesn’t do that. Jesus submits to the violence of the violent. He doesn’t defend himself. I guess the “he’s divine” exception doesn’t apply there. More on that in a moment.

Some folks, however, aren’t so excited about the “Jesus is divine and can do whatever he wants – and be right in doing it” defense. The idea of double standards just doesn’t seem appropriate, or truly moral. Surely, they think, rules ought to apply alike to everyone. We have a profound sense of the equality of all. We have equal rights. We have equal responsibilities. As moderns raised with the notions of morality as distinctly universalizable, we strongly feel things that all authentic moral rules, insofar as they are authentic and moral, ought to be of universal application to everyone. From this point of view we look at Jesus. We see a man. While we might (maybe) admit that that he is divine, holding on to his humanity we want to insist that even as a man he is subject to the same law and the same rules and the same morality as the rest of us.

After all, we believe our leaders who make our laws – our congress people, our judges, our presidents – none of them are above the law. All are accountable to the law, even the laws they themselves write and enact. Surely Jesus, being a moral person, ought to know that and act accordingly.

Is there a way out of this problem other than the “He’s divine” approach? I think there is.

[to be continued]

Posted in Jesus, Politics | Leave a comment

Fight, Flight, or Engage – 1

Posted on October 15, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

Where is my primary citizenship? Since I was born in the USA, have lived in the USA most of my life, currently live in the USA and have never been a citizen of any other nation state, the obvious answer is that my primary citizenship is here in the USA. In fact, the answer is so obvious that speaking of my “primary” citizenship might sound odd. What other kind of citizenship is there? Surely if I were to get a passport, I would apply to the government of the USA and the passport I would be granted would be issued by the government of the USA.

Perhaps we can consider geography. I’ve already observed that I live within the bounds of the USA. But did you know I can be two places at once? At the same time I live in – find my residence in – the USA, I also live in the state of Texas. Ah, you say, but that makes it easy to be two places at once. Maybe even more than two – not only do I live in the USA and Texas, but also in Camp County and in Pittsburg, and on Park Lane. It’s amazing how many places I can be at once. But none of these other places have any authority to issue me a passport or to grant me citizenship, so surely to speak of myself as a citizen of one of these other places is secondary and derivative at best. As a US citizen, I was required to register for Selective Service at age 18. The US government could have decided when I was younger – I’m not sure I’d do them much good now – to institute a draft and send me off to fight in war. Texas hasn’t sought to do anything of the sort since well before I was born. While they take their sports pretty seriously around here, I can’t imagine Pittsburg drafting me to go fight in its wars with places like Gilmer and Daingerfield.

So while I can say I am a citizen of subsidiary political entities, my primary citizenship, my real citizenship, is in the USA. I am a citizen of the United States of America.

But wait – aren’t you a Christian? Aren’t you then as a Christian, a citizen of heaven? Paul has something to say about that in Philippians, doesn’t he? And much more frequently in scripture there is the notion that this world is not my home. I’m only a sojourner, a stranger passing through town. Yes, yes, scripture does say these things. As a follower of Jesus, I am a citizen of heaven. Surely, too, just as God – the ruler of the universe – trumps the President – the ruler of the most powerful nation state on the planet, so my citizenship in heaven must trump my citizenship in the USA. Makes plain sense.

Where was I? Or better, where am I? I’ve already observed that I live on Park Lane, in Pittsburg, in Camp County, in Texas, in the USA. If citizenship has something to do with where I live, then surely these entities ought to have some call on me. After all, however great heaven is, however mighty God is, where do I live now? Surely it is obvious I don’t live in heaven now. Heaven is where we go when we die – a place full of angels, a place where God is enthroned. It is just as obvious that I am not now in heaven as it is that I now live in the USA. So maybe it would be better to say that my ultimate primary citizenship will be in heaven (clear use of future tense) while my current primary citizenship is in the USA.

If the question is to be decided by what is commonly believed and practiced, this must be the right way of seeing things. Though we claim to be Christians, sing praises to Jesus, engage in spiritual disciplines, and meet as a church, we also think of ourselves as American Christians. We sport American flags in our sanctuaries and at our homes. We serve in national institutions, from the military to various levels of government. We pay our taxes to the IRS. We sheer “USA! USA!” during the Olympics. We celebrate national holidays like Independence Day, Memorial Day, and Veteran’s Day as families and even, sometimes, in our churches. Sure, later on, after we die, all this worldly stuff will be set aside. When we get to heaven, when we live in heaven, we’ll just be plain old Christians. As for now, though, we are American Christians.

When we think of ourselves as American Christians, we find ourselves thinking John Locke’s thoughts after him. In his Letter Concerning Toleration, Locke argued that it is the job of the church to see to spiritual things, to our eternal destiny, while it is the job of the Magistrate (we’d call it the State), to see to out material reality. By faith, we have one foot (figuratively speaking) in eternity, in heaven, but our bodies are here on earth, under the rule of Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam provides our point of unity, lest we Methodists, Baptists, Catholics (we’ve come a long way since Locke and can reckon Catholics as equal citizens, having finally relegated the Pope to the spiritual realm where he belongs), Jews, Muslims, or Nothings start bickering with each other in some sort of religious war. We pay our taxes, serve in wars as called, submit to laws and regulations and have a basically calm, peaceful and prosperous life under the benign gaze of Uncle Sam. Other folks in other countries do the same thing – well, at least those who have been adequately tutored by Mr. Locke.

[to be continued]

Posted in Church & State, Clash of Civilizations, Politics | Leave a comment

Making a Difference

Posted on September 16, 2010 by Richard Heyduck

I haven’t been very regular in my posting lately. I observe that just as my last post begins with a quote from Stanley (Hauerwas), while this one will draw – partly – from a quote from another Stanley (Fish). In his The Trouble with Principle, Fish writes:

“What is surprising is to find those same arguments in the writings of those who proclaim themselves unhappy with the marginalization of religious discourse and propose to bring it back into the center. This is the project of Daniel O. Conkle, who begins a recent essay by observing that  the doctrine of religious equality – all religions are to be accorded equal respect, and the state should not ‘prefer one religion over another’ – brings with it ‘an underlying predicate… that religion does not matter, at least not in the public domain.’ The equality religions enjoy under this understanding, Conkle complains, is an equality of irrelevance because when ‘equality implies that religions should be insulated from normative evaluation… We are driven to the view that religion is merely… a matter of private and individual taste.’ Once religion is thus trivialized, the way is open to arguing, as many have, that religious reasons should not be ‘the basis for a political decision.’” (p.187-8)

I came across this paragraph this morning while waiting for my oil to be changed. My thoughts went far afield to a question our churches are being asked. Though it comes in more than one form, the thrust of the question is, “What is your church doing that your community would miss if your church no longer existed?”

I think I understand this question. It’s asked from the standpoint of effectiveness, of “making a difference.” I know that language. I want to “make a difference.” I want the churches I lead to “make a difference.” One reason we’re being asked this question, I believe, is because our churches have become so ingrown that we often lack concern for our host community, settling instead for simply doing what we’ve always done. We’ve functioned pretty much as religious clubs.

In response to this question I wonder whether the most important difference we make is anything the world, speaking on its own terms and from its own point of view could ever understand. If we align ourselves with the model of church as community service organization (a version of the therapeutic church writ large?), we are mostly comprehensible to the non-church community. We’re the folks who help children, feed the hungry, give out school supplies, and care for the sick and dying. All that sounds good to me. Each of those things sound like something a Christian would do. But although I believe in the universal sinfulness of humans, I don’t think that sinfulness makes Christians unique in any of these activities. We are not the only ones who are compassionate, caring and helpful. We are not the only ones who are nice. We are not the only ones who volunteer in schools. We are certainly not the only ones who invest in our communities to make them better places to live.

All of these good activities (and I am not damning with faint praise here) make perfect sense to most Americans. Sure, there are some Ebenezer Scrooge types among us who are hard hearted and selfish, unwilling to lift a finger to help anyone. But in my experience there are lots of kind, helpful, benevolent people around, and their Christianity (or lack thereof) may or may not be the main determinant of their action. Put another way, none of these good activities are peculiar to the church. None are unique to our mission or calling. All are perfectly comprehensible apart from faith in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

Is there anything that is unique to the church when it comes to blessing our community? I think there is. First, we live as a colony of sinners in this world. Not very impressive sounding, is it, especially given my already mentioned conviction about the universality of sin. The difference is that we recognize that we are sinners. Not just “imperfect people” (after all, as everyone tells us, “We’re only human; no one is perfect”) but sinners, people who have been alienated from God by thought, word and deed. And we acknowledge that reality.

Second, while confessing our sin, we don’t let our sin define our identity. While it is demonstrably true of us, it is not the most important truth. The most important truth is that Jesus has lived, died and risen for us, and we belong to him. We have come to belong to him not through our actions, whether actions conceived in terms of personal morality, or responsible citizenship, but purely through grace. As sinners saved by grace, we can demonstrate to the community the reality of that grace by loving each other through difficulties, hardships and even offenses.

Finally, we live by faith. We bless our community not only by doing good, but by actively and publicly trusting God. We obey God even when we don’t see how things can turn out. We openly live as if were God not to come through, we would be sunk. Put another way, we pray for the Holy Spirit to do works in us and through us that will provoke the community to ask questions, questions to which we can only answer, “Jesus!”

These three ways of blessing our community make no sense to our secular, political world as it’s now constituted. If the world were to overhear us talking this way, they would likely feel justified in judging us irrelevant to the world, engaged in mere religious talk. Modern liberal politics is quite happy to tolerate religion that is purely private, religion that leaves all real world significance to the (secular) Magistrate (speaking in Lockean language). As we take up works of mercy we start nibbling at the fences they’ve put up, especially if we meddle with the boundaries and regulations they’ve erected. As we live lives of full-on devotion to Jesus, unafraid to bring our Jesus-talk into public, we might begin to encounter the reality of the rationale behind Peter’s admonition in 1 Peter 3:15. If you’re curious what that is, check the context of that very sometime.

Posted in Ecclesiology, Ministry, Politics | 2 Comments