Theology, the importance of

You can be honest, reader, I won’t berate you.  You can tell me that theology is boring, or stuffy, or gets in the way of real faith, or is best left to those in seminaries or academia.  Besides, it isn’t something that Jesus spent a whole lot of time on, so why should we? 

Aside from that last assumption, to which I will return to at the close of this series, I want to say that if you hold these opinions, I think you’ve fallen under a popular line of thought that tells us, among other things, that religion is a waste of time, that truth-claims are invasive and offend, that we should focus on our personal relationship with Jesus or serve to exhaustion rather than selfishly spend time examining our ideas about God.

I offer, in counter, this:

If you don’t know the God with whom you claim to have a relationship,

how can you love Him?  How can you serve Him?  How can you glorify Him?

The oft-quoted A. W. Tozer said, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”  And I agree; because it is what we know, what we believe, what we think about God that drives us.  Our beliefs feed who we are, they inform how we live, and they compel us to act and think and speak the way we do.  An atheist or an agnostic both have a theology.  The atheist thinks God doesn’t exist, and lives his or her life out of this belief.  The agnostic isn’t sure, and lives his or her life out of this questioning.  The Christian believes God and Jesus Christ exist; and he or she and lives thusly.  It is what the Christian believes about God that informs his or her choices.  The idea of an angry, vengeful God spawns angry and wrathful followers.  The theology of a God that is only love breeds tolerance that would make the Corinthians blush.      

Thus theology is not merely the laborious task of systemizing  dogma and doctrine, best left to those fuddy-duddies in academia; theology, rather, is what we think about God.  And it is how we live our lives.  Our theology makes each one of us who we are.  Therefore, theological exploration isn’t just for the seeker, the new believer, or the apologist.  It is necessary for every believer. 

Why?

Consider the fact that (if you attend church), you are subjecting yourself to the theology of a certain denomination or teacher.  And you are experiencing their theology as it is lived out before you.  If you do not have a solid grasp on who God is, how will you know if your church’s teachings or practices are representing to you and others the God of the Bible?  Because your pastor says so?  Because you feel good when you’re worshipping?  Or, because you’ve examined the scriptures alongside the stated beliefs and practices of your church and they line up?  A grounding in good theology is the responsibility of every believer, should be the practice of every church body, and the foundation for a life lived in Christ.    

Have you, dear reader, ever looked at your church’s statement of belief?  In our increasingly electronic age, most churches have one somewhere on their web page.  Bear in mind a statement of faith is not the same as a mission statement.  A mission or vision statement is action-oriented and presumes the tenents of a doctrinal/belief/faith statement.  Last year, my family and I went to a local mega-church that does not list their beliefs online, merely their mission.  When we attended the church, we went to the newcomer’s desk and asked for a copy of their beliefs (this was part of an assignment for a class).  In response to our request, we were told, “We believe in the Bible.”  To which the Officer replied, “So do Mormons.”  Our thus flummoxed hostess encouraged us to speak to the lead pastor.  We did.  Sadly, he was equally helpful in directing us back to their mission statement.[1]  What does it say about a church whose senior pastor cannot articulate what his or her flock believes?  How can this pastor, the elders, or even the congregants be sure that they are staying within the bounds scripture, or that they are not creating a god in the image that suits their congregation and ideas best?  How can we know that we are worshiping and serving the One True God, if we can’t even say what we believe about Him?  These are questions with which I will wrestle in the coming weeks – what does it look like when we engage theology fully?        

I encourage you this week, even if you have done so in the past, look at your church’s statement of faith.  If they don’t have one online, shoot your pastor an e-mail requesting one (you can tell him or her to thank me for this).  Once you’re read it thoroughly and carefully, ask yourself if what they say they believe mirrors scripture.  Does what they preach follow scripture and their statement of faith?  Does how they behave? 

Consider for a moment a church that, in their statement of faith, says:

We believe that the gifts of evangelist, pastor and teacher are for the perfecting of the saints today to prepare God’s people for works of service so that the body of Christ may be built up. God supernaturally and graciously grants spiritual gifts to every believer for the purpose of serving the body of Christ.[2]

Sounds good.  Lines up with scripture.  Gives each member of the church a view of communal service and a hope that he or she may be used by God for His works.  Now, what if that church does not allow women to teach, nor to administer communion or collect offering?  Does this practice align with their stated belief?  Or, are they contradicting themselves with the subtle belief that the gifts God gives to women are not for the full body of Christ?         

 

As evidenced above, thoughtful examination of one’s theology and that of one’s church is vital to ensuring harmony in one’s living out the gospel of Jesus Christ and glorifying our Heavenly Father.  Thus, for the next eight weeks, I want to spend time examining scripture, and thinking deeply, in regard to a few key elements of Christian Theology.  And I want you to join me.   Don’t worry, this will not be practiced without proper guidance (I have at my disposal numerous mentors, both living and paper); and I’ll have some examples of what “bad” theology is and where is can lead.  As always, I’m open to questions and debate, so long as they are thoughtful and constructive.     

I look forward to diving into theology with you, dear reader.  I pray it draws each of us to a deeper understand of who our amazing and glorious God truly is.

 

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[1] I use this personal narrative to provide anecdotal evidence for what goes on in some churches, NOT to tear down any particular group of believers or denomination.  While visiting this congregation (which I did over the course of a few months), they taught sound doctrine and appeared to live it out as well.  Thus, not every church that does not have a statement of faith on hand is bad.  This simply means that as a Christ-follower, you have the duty to pay extra attention to what is taught and practiced so that you are aware – frankly, it makes for more work on the individual’s part, but can be done.

[2] Chapel in the Hills, statement of faith // accessed 9/24/13 at 2:29 p.m.

Lessons from a Church Gypsy

Read: 1 peter 2:1-10 and 1 Corinthians3

Our family is a band of church gypsies.  The theological education of our children, the spiritual development (so much as it can be up to any mortal) of our individual members, and the devotion to and worship of our Lord God is always first and foremost in our thoughts and deeds.[1]  However, we do not have decades-long ties to any particular church in our area.  We have been vagabonds, moving through and among congregations as deftly as, well…gypsies through the countryside. 

I share this with you today because what troubles me, greatly, are the lines of division that have been carved among believers; lines that are meant to separate ourselves from each other.  Particularly as we speed toward an election that has been extremely divisive for our nation, I am troubled at the “us versus them” mentality within the body of Christ.  Denomination against denomination.  Conservative against liberal.  Sister against brother.  We have allowed our ideologies to taint the gospel, to mar the message of one body in Christ, to defame the unity for which Jesus expected us to strive.  When we are a house divided, we are easy to dismiss.  To ignore.  To refute.  When we cannot treat one another charitably, how can we be expected to be light in an increasingly uncharitable world?

I know that there is no perfect church, for each community is comprised of imperfect sinners.  And we each are (hopefully) doing our best to live out the gospel.  Thus, if a community other than yours, or an individual believer, is acting within the bounds of scripture, yet doing something you wouldn’t do or in a way that you wouldn’t do it, might I suggest you look upon them with “Pollyanna” eyes?  Find the good they are striving toward, before lambasting them and tearing down what their character or denomination or expression of faith.  Remember that you and your church are just as imperfect and therefore in as much need of Christ’s grace as they.           

Our family has been a part of numerous communities of believers in our eight plus years in rural Colorado; each like a particular bloom in my heart, that when I look back upon them all I see a garden.  A tapestry from which we have learned and in which we have grown   There have been none we left on poor terms; and we pray that each continues their ministry and grows in vibrancy.  We have simply been called to move on at different times; some are obvious in hind-sight, others less so.  But our fluidity through these communities has left a beautiful mark in me, each one something I would regret deeply to have missed.        

I’ve loved the liturgy of the mainline churches we’ve attended; and yearn for it on the holy days when reverence is what the heart desires.  I’ve delighted in the dancing of non-denominational settings, where being yourself before the Lord is greatly expected; and where the community knows you and accepts you and you don’t have to rehash your journey every 2 months.  I’ve relished delving deep into the Word, going verse-by-verse in other non-denominational (-but-we’re-big-enough-that-we-really-are-our-own-denomination) congregations.  And I’ve cherished breaking bread weekly with another community who sought to truly live out missional lives.  I’ve learned from the vitality of a small group gathered primarily to make a difference in their community.  And oh how I miss that one group of lifers who just got each other, cared for and supported one another through whatever life slung at them. 

To have missed what each community taught me, what they drew out of me, would be a great tragedy to my spirit.  I love that as a member of the body of Christ, I can move within these people and glean from them the beauty therein.  Each place literally lightens my heart when I think of it, of the people who welcomed us and loved us and taught us and worshiped with us.  I can’t wait for the coming, epic reunion in Heaven when we’ll all be together as one family…worshiping our Lord together.  What a party that will be!  Laughter I can’t even imagine now and warmth and love I can’t fathom here.  The smile on my face at the very thought is so wide my cheeks are starting to hurt.  That is joy. 

Thus, I want to encourage you, visit some churches in your area.  Go outside of your brand of worship.  Recognize that just as you are individually created to enjoy a particular flavor of service, so are others; and that we have so much to gain when we respectfully share our way of drawing nearer to our Lord.  Stretch yourself and meet your extended family in Christ.  See how they worship, and do not judge, but enjoy their expression of love for our Heavenly Father.  Listen to their teachings, and so long as they keep with scripture, learn from them.  Shake their hands, let them welcome you, as family you may yet not know.  Return their smiles.  Open your heart.  Be blessed by them, and in turn bless them.  For one day, those of us who believe, will all be set at the King’s table for a feast in honor of His Son, celebrating His Love and Grace for each and every one of us.  Thus, if it is to be so in the age to come, should it not also be now? 

Lord, may Your kingdom come here on earth,

as it is and shall be in Heaven.

Amen.

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[1] On that note, we’re rolling out our family motto and life plan; which I’ll be outlining in the new year. 

The Only Ecclesiology that Matters

Ecclesiology:  Theology as applied to the nature and structure of the Christian church

As with so many other things, I am guilty of this myself; and, I truly believe it’s rooted in pride.  I, until very (milliseconds ago) recently, thought I had the lock down on ecclesiology.  I’ve thought this before, in different seasons of my life.  Yet each time I think I’ve got it all figured out, I’ve learned something new, I’ve grown in a different way, and I’ve come into a deeper and more beautiful experience of the grace of Jesus Christ. 

But after reading/listening to yet another Christian-bashing-Christian blog/podcast, I am ever more convinced that neither I nor any other fully-human-and-not-divine person completely understands or practices the ecclesiology of Christ himself.  Nobody has ever expressed the perfect praxis of the gospel that should be the nature and structure of the bride of Christ.  We’re too myopic, too self-oriented, too prideful, too fallen.

Origin

Like ancient Israel, we busy ourselves with the daily preening that comes with I’m-better-than-my-fellows-because-hold-the-patent-on-God’s-truthiest-Truth.  And like the ancient Hebrews, we are very, very wrong.  In our fractured version of the Church, our us-versus-them or me-above-you theologies, we have lost sight of the very tasks to which we have been called.

I doubt that the father trying to hold his child through the tangle of endless tubes and amidst beeps and alarms and the acrid smell of sanitation, will care whether I’m pre- or post-trib; so long as I’ll pray with and for them both. 

I can’t see the mother, racking her brain to think of how she’ll feed her kids their one meal for the day, caring about whether I’m Calvinist or Arminianist or Molinist; so long as I give her children food.

I have a hard time believing that the girl, who is trying to lance her pain out of her very skin, actually gives a rip about whether I’m complimentarian or egalitarian; so long as I walk with her on the road to her healing.

I don’t think the homeless person, who hasn’t showered in months and who hasn’t been called by his name in decades, cares if I’m Catholic or Reformed or Non-demoninational; so long as I look him in the eye, ask his name, and speak to him as though he were a human being.   

I can’t imagine that the boy, whose father has run off and who now lives with his mom’s abusive boyfriend, cares in the least whether I’m fundamentalist or liberal; so long as I can protect him from the hurt. 

In the darkest nights of our souls, these labels don’t matter.

Yes, a well-reasoned apologetic is necessary: to reach the lost and defend the truth.  Yes, sound doctrine is essential: to maintain the gospel and follow the Lord.  And, yes, appropriate theology is crucial: because we can’t love a God we don’t know.  Without these, works are meaningless and faith is dead.  But we have to stop slaying one another over the minutia of human systems and labels. 

Because Christ didn’t become human to give us labels.  He came to remove them.  Christ didn’t die on the cross to divide people.  He came to unite us in him.  Christ didn’t rise again to keep people out of his kingdom.  He rose from death to gather all those who call him Lord into his house, that he may call us friend and beloved. 

That, cherished friend, must be our ecclesiology.  Faith in the Truth and Love in our praxis. 

In Response to the anti-Lent

I respectfully submit that I disagree with those who feel that the season of Lent is a hollow, ritualized observance that actually detracts from the “real” Jesus, as evidenced by the debauchery and debasement exhibited by some on Fat Tuesday (aka: Mardi Gras, or Shrove Tuesday).  Or that it is counter to Christ’s purpose, as He stated, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10b).

First, I view using the American celebration of Mardi Gras (a la New Orleans’ Bourbon Street) as evidence that Lent is pointless akin to using MTV reality shows to make the point that abstinence is outmoded.  Mardi Gras, particularly in its Americanized form, is the worldly antithesis to the reverence and spiritual fruit that can exist through the observance of Lent (Galatians 5:22, the last fruit of the Spirit listed being “self-control”).        

To the latter, I would like to point out that the passage in which Christ says this (John 10:7-18), is a parable concerning the Good Shepherd, who willingly, and with all authority, lays down His life as a sacrifice for his sheep; only to take it up again, with the same authority, in the victorious conquering of death.  This passage is not an entreaty to seek out fulfillment in life abundant in anything but Christ.  It is an example of the love and authority shown by the Shepherd on behalf of those in His charge, so that the sheep will not later be persuaded to follow grotesque facsimiles of the Incarnate Deity; nor to chase after hollow idols, be they universal or of our own making.     

The Lenten season is intended to symbolize Christ’s sojourn in the desert prior to the beginning of His incarnate ministry.  He fasted and prayed, drawing closer to the Father for 40 days.  Certainly, every believer in every church needs to draw more near to God.  Fasting and prayer are indeed lacking in many congregations, as our daily routines crowd out the movement of the Spirit in our lives and our weekly commitments drown out the voice of God in our hearts, and our frantic busy-ness suffocates the love of Christ from being expressed in our actions.

Instead of the assumed, Pharisee-esque, self-denial often associated with Lent, I instead find great merit in spending a season reflecting solemnly on our individual need for a Savior, and the cost at which we have been redeemed.   For if we cannot personally and in an immediate way, relate to our need for a Savior, do we not tend to diminish His sacrifice?  Instead of Christ dying for my sins, my thoughts become, “Christ died for the sins of the world.”  And while this is an indisputable truth, I have, with one word, removed myself, my sins, my need for Christ’s grace from the equation.  I begin to drift towards thinking I’m okay, because I’m better than “those people” (non-believers, people who don’t come to church like I do, people who don’t attend the Bible studies, retreats, fellowship events I do, people who don’t respond in worship the way I do, etc…).  I start to gauge my relationship with God through my works, my attendance, my personal activities.  And from there, it is a quick descent to the point where I am setting myself up as judge over others.  Thus, I have lost myself among the thistles of self-reliance and am in grave danger of complacency and simply going through the motions.    

To combat this ever-present danger, in the weeks leading up to the holiest day of the year, for certainly if one identifies him/herself as a follower of Christ, the most sacred and set apart of all days is the one on which we, as a body, gather to remember and celebrate the glorious hope that is the bodily resurrection and spiritual triumph over sin and death that is the Risen Christ!  What if, in preparation for that, we examined the rhythms of our lives? What if we took the temperature of our hearts?  And what if we honestly desired to have less of our flesh, and more of Christ in us?  And after that examination, what if we purposed to make some changes; if we cut certain habits that have the propensity to rule us, and replaced them with life giving practices.  Not merely giving up meat, or sweets, or alcohol, or your favorite social networking site, just to show others how holy you are.  But, in submission and humility, asking the Holy Spirit to show you what is keeping you from a deeper relationship with Jesus?  And then entreating the Holy Spirit to empower you to overcome these roadblocks, so that you may enter into a deeper trust of, a great reliance upon, and a closer communion with the triune God.  So that when Easter morning presents itself, your spirit is less fettered than before; and you can come into this celebration lighter, more free, and full of greater rejoicing at the victory of the King of Kings, than if you had wearily frittered away your time in the monotonous distractions in which we are all currently mired. 

Isn’t that the abundant life which Christ references: a life free of fleshly entanglements, a heart unfettered by this world, so that it can love Jesus and those whom He created?  That is my prayer for this Lenten season.  That I may, through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, let go of more of this world, so that I can grasp onto even more of Christ.

Empty Vessel

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all [believers].

~ Ephesians 4:1-6 [note added]

You’ve likely seen the shirt, or bumper sticker, or status update: “Jesus hates religion, too.”  It’s the post-modern anthem for the Evangelical’s idea of Luther-esque freedom.  Let’s throw out rigid adherences, toss away antiquated practices, and dispose of the “old” way of doing things.  Let’s take a sledgehammer to the pipe organ, set fire to the pulpit, and never, ever, ever say anything that looks like rote prayer.  In fact, if you mention denominations that have even the slightest liturgical flavor, you must do so with a look of puckered disdain, all sour and “we-know-better.”

But this trite dismissal of all things religious leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.  I have to ask, does He really?

I know the common response, when looking for Christ’s example of anti-religious sentiment is His attitude towards and reaction to the Pharisees.  However, I have to note, that Jesus did not roundly renounce the Jewish faith.  Not once did He utter any anti-Semitic pronouncements.  Rather, He calls into question the state of the hearts of the individuals in leadership.  In fact, His ministry centered on reaching the most religious people of His time: the Jews, the remnant of God’s first covenant with humanity; though He knew they would reject him.  And let’s not forget that the foundation of their religious practice was instituted and directed by YHWH Himself.

And isn’t that wasn’t wrong with our religious institutions today?  People.  Our junked up, fallen way of dealing with others, with God’s word, with trying [and inevitably failing] to be God’s emissaries to the lost, the broken, and, frankly, each other.  It’s what the Pharisees were supposed to be.  It what we, the “un-religious” Church, are supposed to be.  Not anti-religion, but pro-relationship.  The two are NOT mutually exclusive.

So if nothing else, I take offense at the misuse of the word.  Much like there is a marked difference between schizophrenia and multiple-personality disorder (another pet peeve), the presence of religion does not immediately equate the absence of Christ.  Simply because someone practices an older, more liturgical brand of faith does not make them an empty vessel; they are not one who has no relationship with Christ, only hollow practices and numerous restrictions.  Frankly, we can not see the state of their hearts, what’s inside their jar of clay.  Only God can; and therefore, it is not our place to play judge.  By definition, religion is: the service and worship of God or the supernatural (2) commitment or devotion to religious faith or observance (3) a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practice.

“Service and worship of God,” isn’t that what we do?  Is that what we’re called to?  Isn’t that who we, as Christ’s body, are?

Which means I have a bit of a shock for my fellow non-denomers: by definition, WE ARE RELIGIOUS.  But don’t dismay, that’s as it should be.  Which brings us to another potentially uncomfortable truth: as the body, we are to live in harmony with other believers, even [or especially] our liturgical, “religious” brethren.  In fact, so long as the religious “they” holds fast to the truth of the gospel, we are told in no uncertain terms to “put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander.  Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good” [1 Peter 2:1-3].  That means we don’t talk badly about other denominations, we don’t react poorly to their various spiritual disciplines, and we treat all members of the body of Christ as He does: with tenderness and love.

So the next time you or I see that tag line, let’s remember, Jesus was religious.  He wasn’t disparaging, malicious, or slanderous.  Let us strive, within the appropriate boundaries of the gospel, to be harmonious, peaceful, and loving.  That, and not denominational disputes, is what the world needs from us.

May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

~ Romans 15:5-6