Moral Humanist’s World opens

Great lessons here for some Christians’ erroneous assumptions.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/january-february/my-train-wreck-conversion.html?paging=off

Note these nuggets (Emphasis mine):

Christians in particular were bad [limited] readers,

a tenured radical, I cared about morality, justice, and compassion.

…

It was a kind and inquiring letter. Ken Smith encouraged me to explore the kind of questions I admire:

• How did you arrive at your interpretations?
• How do you know you are right?
• Do you believe in God?

Ken didn’t argue with my article; rather, he asked me to defend the presuppositions that undergirded it. I didn’t know how to respond to it, so I threw it away.

Later that night, I fished it out of the recycling bin and put it back on my desk, where it stared at me for a week, confronting me with the worldview divide that demanded a response. As a postmodern intellectual, I operated from a historical materialist worldview, but Christianity is a supernatural worldview. Ken’s letter punctured the integrity of my research project without him knowing it.

…

became friends. They entered my world. They met my friends. We did book exchanges. We talked openly about sexuality and politics. They did not act as if such conversations were polluting them. They did not treat me like a blank slate. When we ate together, Ken prayed in a way I had never heard before. His prayers were intimate. Vulnerable. He repented of his sin in front of me. He thanked God for all things. Ken’s God was holy and firm, yet full of mercy. And because Ken and Floy did not invite me to church, I knew it was safe to be friends.

I started reading the Bible. I read the way a glutton devours.

I continued reading the Bible, all the while fighting the idea that it was inspired. But the Bible got to be bigger inside me than I. It overflowed into my world. I fought against it with all my might. Then, one Sunday morning, I rose from the bed of my lesbian lover, and an hour later sat in a pew at the Syracuse Reformed Presbyterian Church. Conspicuous with my butch haircut, I reminded myself that I came to meet God, not fit in.

But God’s promises rolled in like sets of waves into my world. One Lord’s Day, Ken preached on John 7:17: “If anyone wills to do [God's] will, he shall know concerning the doctrine” (NKJV). This verse exposed the quicksand in which my feet were stuck. I was a thinker. I was paid to read books and write about them. I expected that in all areas of life, understanding came before obedience. And I wanted God to show me, on my terms, why homosexuality was a sin. I wanted to be the judge, not one being judged.

But the verse promised understanding after obedience. I wrestled with the question: Did I really want to understand homosexuality from God’s point of view, or did I just want to argue with him? I prayed that night that God would give me the willingness to obey before I understood. I prayed long into the unfolding of day. When I looked in the mirror, I looked the same. But when I looked into my heart through the lens of the Bible, I wondered, Am I a lesbian, or has this all been a case of mistaken identity? If Jesus could split the world asunder, divide marrow from soul, could he make my true identity prevail? Who am I? Who will God have me to be?

Then, one ordinary day, I came to Jesus, openhanded and naked. In this war of worldviews, Ken was there. Floy was there. The church that had been praying for me for years was there. Jesus triumphed. And I was a broken mess. Conversion was a train wreck. I did not want to lose everything that I loved. But the voice of God sang a sanguine love song in the rubble of my world. I weakly believed that if Jesus could conquer death, he could make right my world. I drank, tentatively at first, then passionately, of the solace of the Holy Spirit. I rested in private peace, then community, and today in the shelter of a covenant family, where one calls me “wife” and many call me “mother.”

I have not forgotten the blood Jesus surrendered for this life.

And my former life lurks in the edges of my heart, shiny and still like a knife.

Rosaria Champagne Butterfield is the author of The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert (Crown & Covenant). She lives with her family in Durham, North Carolina, where her husband pastors the First Reformed Presbyterian Church of Durham.

bono on the incarnation of christ

bono on the incarnation of christ.

Tattoo

I have been wearing the colors for 10 years now, so I thought I’d make ‘em permanent.

- Primarily it’s about Aboriginal protocol and their just call for treaties. In lieu of a message stick, wearing the colors (Aboriginal flag, of earth, sun, and sky/skin) is a way for me to declare that I am with their basic cause. I have observed protocol as best I can and have the blessing of the Whadjuk elders to be here, and I listen for their wisdom.
- But also, the colors are woven into a Celtic braid, which shows I can bring my heritage to this and find a lot of common ground.
- the three strands can symbolize a lot! The Trinity; cultures brought together by Christ’s blood (Ephesians 3); God’s glory flowing through our cultures…

All this has an aroma of “Shalom” – that’s the Hebrew word inked there. It’s a huge, holistic, sense of all levels of reality finally being right with each other. And I’ve experienced enough of it to think it’s worth identifying myself with the pursuit of it.

.

At home in The Shack

For all those who asked me what I thought of The Shack, here you are, and I’m sorry I took so long to read it.

So many people asked me about William P Young’s book, The Shack, that I thought it must be just another one of those latest-greatest fads you see around Christian bookshops from time to time. But now that I’ve read it, I realize you were asking me because you thought I might personally resonate with it – and I do. Come to think of it, I have not been asked about other fad books in years. So I’m sorry I didn’t cotton-on sooner.

I felt quite at home in The Shack. So many ideas that may seem alarming to some, seem quite sound to me.

For example, the most controversial image was God’s appearance as a woman for the sake of the father-damaged Mack. God later appears as a man when a reconciliation and father-healing has happened. To me these elements of the story express the wonders of the incarnation and redemption: that Jesus is God made flesh and reveals himself to us gently & in a way we can relate to; and that God then redeems our brokenness to take us to a more whole relationship.)

And I loved how these insights were explored within the context of profound suffering. It was no easy approach.

Some of my favorite quotes:

• “Does that mean,” said Mack, “that all roads will lead to you?”
  “Not at all.” Jesus smiled as he reached for the dorr handle to the shop. Most roads don’t lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.”
• “You will learn to hear my thoughts in yours, Mackenzie.” – Sarayu assuring Mack of her presence and interaction with him whether he senses it or not. This turn of phrase describes beautifully how I experience God most often.
• Re: The Tree of the knowledge of good and evil.”When something happens, how do you determine whether it is good or evil?” …All of this sounds quite self-serving and self-centered … “Then it is you who determines good and evil. You become the Judge… So when your good and evil clash with your neighbor’s, fights and arguments ensue and even wars break out.”
• “You might see me in a piece of art, or music, or silence, or through people, or in creation, or in your joy and sorrow. My ability to communicate is limitless, living and transforming, and it will always be tuned to Papa’s goodness and love. And you will hear me and see me in the Bible in fresh ways. just don’t look for rules and principles; look for relationship – a way of coming to be with us.” – Sarayu again, the personification of God’s wisdom / Spirit.

The emphasis on God as a Being-to-relate-to made far more sense of the historical data we have, and the experiences of myself and many others. This makes it a far more complete book that The Celestine Prophecy which I reviewed recently. I couldn’t help comparing them, since they both try to overview their spiritual insights through the medium of story.

For content, I also could not help comparing The Shack to my book, Treading On God’s Heels. If I had read The Shack beforehand, I may not have written my book. The Shack covers the topics in a much better story than I could weave. As it stands, however, readers of Treading On God’s Heels, will find straight talk about the same insights canvassed so skillfully in William P Young’s story.

Sure, if you lifted quotes out of the context of the whole book, you might have to ask some theological questions to determine Young’s views. For example he doesn’t deal much with hell in the way Jesus does. But the things he does say are fresh and helpful (and Biblical): about suffering and rights, law and relationship, freedom and love, forgiveness, and redemption.

Yep, Sally and I both felt quite at home in The Shack.

communion

“How old to kids have to be before they can have communion?”

Here’s my reply to this viewer’s question – including bonus thoughts on Passover.

Hi

Glad you’re enjoying the Core Stuff. Thanks for your question.

My thoughts on communion – yes, sure, I think as long as they know what they’re doing, it’s fine.

Mind you, because I hold a symbolic view, it’s easier for me to say that than a traditionally Catholic person who holds a “sacramental” view and the idea of “trans-substantiation.” They’d say that the bread and wine literally turns into the literal body and blood of Jesus, and that the act of communion seals a person into the Catholic Church, and so has to be ministered by a priest. Lots of traditional attachments. I don’t see any of that in the Bible. It’s Catholic Church tradition.

What I do see is a symbolic celebration of Jesus’ death and resurrection. If a person understands this, is grateful for it, they may participate in it. No matter what age. So my kids participate, including my 6 year old son. Understand, he’s a boy’s boy, lots of rough edges. But he understands what the symbols mean, and what Jesus’ death on the cross has done for us, and he’s grateful. That’s what its about.

One more bonus idea:

The Lord’s Supper happened during the Passover meal. So when it says, “whenever you do this, remember me,” the “this” could well be “Passover,” not merely “break bread and drink wine.” So every year we have Passover, celebrating how Jesus fulfills the whole Passover story & all the elements of the meal. In fact Jesus fulfills the details of the Passover meal better than the Exodus story (which foreshadows Jesus’ liberation of us all)! That’s a great time of year for us. And you know what? – The youngest person not only participates fully in the meal, but gets to ask all the questions in the Passover feast. So for me, that confirms their legitimate participation in communion too.

Hope that’s not too much information.

Cheers,

Geoff

www.geoffwestlake.com

0411 324245

In fact this mum of 5 wanted FURTHER information,
about how we teach our kids.

So here’s more:

Yes, before we let them have it, we make sure their head’s in the right space on the day.

Our two older ones we no longer have to check, but the two younger ones, its still a teaching or review moment. If their heads not in the right space, we say no you can’t have it. On the few times that happened they were too young to be deeply affected by that. Now they know that this is what its about and not to take it lightly – its not just a snack.

No we don’t home school, but I chair the school council, so yes I’m still hands on with their education, but in a way that connects with hundreds of other families in the area.

But when it comes to their faith development we’re very hands on - every fortnight we do Cheers 24, which is Bible-based learning for all ages. Everyone, including kids, brings a contribution about the topic or passage, for “show n tell.”

Plus every night around dinner, it’s “what do you have to thank God for today?” and they tell us their day’s highlights.

And as and when concerns arise, we pray about it together.

One of my daughters likes reading a chapter of the Gospels with me each night, and sometimes others join in.

So there’s a definite natural spiritual openness that we’re purposefully fostering in our kids, and so the issue of communion is just part of that flow.

In fact, sometimes, when we have bread and wine at the dinner table, we do a very short communion.

- I say, “charge your glasses.” They grin & get ready with bread and cup.

- Then I ask, “what’s the bread remind us of?”

- then “what’s the cup remind us of?”

- Then I hold up the glass and toast, “Let’s remember him, until He comes.” and they all reply, “Until He comes.”

And that’s literally it.

So we be open, natural, and all-of-life about Jesus, so when it happens in a church, its no biggie.

Cheers

Geoff

Thanks Geoff,

Maybe communion is not as much of a biggie as I thought!

Intentionality is HUGE!, so it’s exciting to hear that you’re making a big effort with their spiritual growth.

To be honest, I don’t think I know anyone with children at school who is deliberate about discipling them.  The parents seem to abdicate most authority to the teachers and get too busy with their lives outside of their kids.

Well, I’d better get to work with what we’re going to be doing in the next few days/week.

Thanks and blessings,

Celestine Prophecy

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Celestine_Prophecy

I finally got around to reading The Celestine Prophecy, James Redfield’s attempt to trace the “mechanics” of the spiritual Relationship we can have. He describes similar phenomena that I see as a follower of Jesus, but then tries to pursue that spirituality in merely functional ways.

The spiritual experiences are a valid way of approaching the core stuff, but I can’t help thinking he really needs to grasp another way as well – especially the relational way. I think his schema is actually  a backwards step from Christianity, into a new legalism, whereas Jesus said we should start with, “Abba.” The simplest and most profound of ‘operating systems’ – a relationship.

How the “Nine Insights” equate to my experience as a follower of Jesus:

First Insight: personal awakening to spiritual dimensions. Yep, that’s basic to Christian experience. Learning to ‘see’ God at work in your life. Other dimensions are real.

Second Insight: Western Culture is rediscovering spiritual sensitivities. Yep, modernist science took Western culture overboard by reducing reality to merely the physics of space & time. Post-modern movements named the issue: that a holistic approach to life must include other, spiritual dimensions as a part of reality too.

But the history Redfield gives is grossly simplistic, and equates Christian concepts like a relational God, with the power-abusing Churchmen of the Dark Ages. From this he casts God as an immature, even manipulative misconception. He then reduces spirituality to merely ‘evolutionary energy,’ which is the big flaw in the book.

Third Insight: The Universe is a system of energy. Yes, and we don’t have to visibly see the energy to know that, although sometimes one can sense a stronger spiritual presence or liveliness. And yes, I agree that the physical universe is fundamentally “organized energy.”

But I also think there’s more than energy, that the dynamic that organizes that energy is spiritual (remember, there’re more dimensions beyond space, time & physics.) A Mind is at work through the energy (which I call God.) And prophets & seers are especially attuned to these spiritual dynamics.

Fourth Insight: Conflicts are attempts to gain energy from people. To me this is about the basic craving for love, acceptance, affirmation, approval. Yep, craving people want to “win over” others to affirm themselves. And that’ll produce conflict.

But that’s less about energy, and more about relationship needs: when we don’t get the affirmation, it’s not that we feel depleted, it’s that we feel rejected, ashamed, sad, or scared – relationship dynamics. We don’t just feel tired, we feel lack of love.

Fifth Insight: Receive energy from a higher source, rather than gain it from people. Yep, trying to get other people to make us feel beloved, is doomed to fail: they cannot do it – only God can infinitely, spiritually, fill our ‘cup’ of love, and God’s perspective counts most. This is key to really loving others without grasping for them. Hang out with God long enough to realise you are Beloved, then you can love without grasping.

Sixth Insight: clear out old dramas (learned manipulative patterns), and discover your real purpose (which will be based your family of origin.) Well, yes, we all should get to a point where we have to name and overcome our childhood manipulative strategies, and take responsibility for our decisions & lives. God can help us do exactly that, by making us a new creation, giving us new identity, a purpose, and a calling. The heritage our parents create for us is very significant, but our calling may reach way beyond our parents’ influences.

Seventh Insight: Engaging the flow. Question /intuition /answer. Yep, this is like keeping in step with the Spirit. At times this is the background, the reality in which I live, move & have my being. Other times I need to tune in very consciously – prayer, for guidance with a question, listening for an answer, and acting on that answer in faith. But I don’t treat God like an ATM.

Eighth Insight: Relating to others to bring out their best – focus the loving energy their way, defuse their old dramas by naming & not playing into them. Yep, but again this love is relational, energizing, but not merely energy. Love them, defuse by naming and not playing their manipulative games, be generous, and pay attention to what the Spirit is doing in the moment, in and through them and me.

Ninth Insight: The overall aim of the evolution, is harmony with nature, technology, spirituality, economy. And ultimately disappearing into higher energetic vibrations. Well, the harmony sounds like Isaiah 65’s vision of how this world can be. And as for disappearing to the spiritual plane, yes, it sounds like Hebrew 12’s “great cloud of witnesses” cheering us on. But I’d include other dimensions beyond energy.

So good. Redfield is trying to describe spiritual phenomena, and so I’m cheering that he sees those phenomena. But he’s doing so without reference to God, because he has made an a priori assertion that “God” is an immature concept.

So, rather than his view being an advance on mine, it’s a reduction, limiting and omitting significant information:

1. Retreating from seeing God in relational terms, seems quite unnecessary. We know that relationship is perhaps our highest way of knowing. So why couldn’t higher, spiritual Beings be capable of relationship. If it’s true that God, being other dimensional, is far beyond our limited capacity to grasp, doesn’t it make sense that God would choose to become relationally knowable? Indeed relationally is the only way we can know God to be love. Like a child can know and trust Daddy, even though the child may not have the slightest appreciation of the fullness of who daddy is! This relational spirituality makes grace possible, in a way that Redfield’s mechanistic view can’t.
2. We can know whatever God chooses to reveal to us. That includes the phenomena Redfield observes, but so much more than that…
3. Redfield wants to name love, but can’t do it consistently, because of his line of impersonal, evolutionary energy, ebbing and flowing. But I see that Love is about relationship between two or more relational beings. (Which is why it makes sense that God is a Trinity, that the essence of God is love, which God eternally expresses relationally among the Three of the Godhead.)
4. Why omit these teachings of Jesus about spirituality? They are primarily relational in nature. This is not primitive, but beautifully fulfilling. Instead of trying to learn techniques, Jesus teaches us to simply, “ask Daddy.”
5. Why omit spiritual revelations through the Bible? It does make sense when read as that progressive revelation. Plus the record of prophetic fulfilments is both extensive, and unique (nothing else has even one specific fulfilment).
6. Why omit Jesus’ resurrection, when the evidence is so strong? Plus there are the implications that must domino from the resurrection, including Jesus divinity, and his work on the Cross.
7. Redfield is exclusively optimistic about the evolutionary energy theory. His optimism gives no real room for premature death, suffering, hellish experiences, or relational sins. Except to say, oh well that was unevolved. There’s no justice here. Plus, I can see that the end-times re-entry into higher spiritual dimensions, can happen the easy way (rapture), or the hard way (apocalypse.)

Redfield omits these specifically Christian elements, yet these are valid and important elements of basic Christianity, embodied by Jesus and the whole movement. Yes in the mid 4^th century Rome began to corrupt the movement with power-positions, but this basic faith continued to be embodied by the Desert Fathers and by the Celtic church beyond. Yes the Churchmen of the Dark Ages had certainly lost the pure, Christlike relationship, as had those in power, abusing their power. But that makes it all the more important to include the relational essence of the faith. Despite the bad parts, the robust, living Way of Jesus continued, and continues today.

It is Redfield’s fundamental error to cast God as a puppet from the Dark Ages, and therefore an immature concept to be left behind. It moves away from Christ’s relational, spiritual foundations (like grace, mercy, forgiveness, love, and yes judgement) and it moves backwards to a new kind of legalism. I’ve seen too many people becoming virtually obsessive-compulsive over the plethora of activities they have do to ‘release the energies.’ When all they had to do, was simply, “ask Daddy.”

In sum, Redfield does seem to identify legitimate spiritual experiences, but he’s still fearful of giving himself to an actual relationship with the Divine – the very phenomena he is tracing. That why his schema is limited, and omits important revelations that contribute to our perception of, and relationship with, spiritual reality.

Creation comments

Let there be…

This is probably not the wisest post, but I thought I’d put myself further out there for the sake of those who may struggle to uphold both science and Scripture, especially in a time when the science is shifting so much. Since I’m already a heretic due to comments about The Shack, I guess I may as well put this out there.

A much respected elder wrote to me recently:

PS  Since I was about 16 years of age I have read, and read, material on the question of origins. Squaring creation or evolution with Genesis has never happened for me. I know the three main schools of thought among Christians but have large problems with them all. My lack of knowledge is the reason for dissatisfaction no doubt, though I have read a ton of books including the latest. But I know what I don’t or can’t believe.

Question. Do you have any settled ideas on this?

Here’s my reply:

Mmmm – not exactly “settled.” But I’m comfortable with where I sit currently.

Back in theological college, as we grappled with the mysteries and paradoxes of our faith (pre-destination / freewill, love / suffering, three / one, etc) I realized in some cases one needs to make peace with the tensions. Creation methodology may be another example. Oh I’m already a heretic for saying that much. But I feel you understand what I mean.

I too find it difficult to settle on what may be true, but not because of the tennis match between Creationists and Evolutionists trading reports and studies. That’s fascinating to watch, but who can sift all the available data? Is that data the only way to know if there’s a God anyway? No. There’s history and experience too. One has to account for all the data including history and experience, not just modern science. I find it difficult to settle simply because I can see more than one way to interpret the data, that would not rock my faith.

I see a continuum, the extremes of which are not helpful:

- The CreationISTS extreme says “if it wasn’t a literal seven days, then the Bible is wrong, and the whole of our faith is in doubt.” That seems a brittle faith to me, and a massive leap of illogic to make! My faith is grounded in the historicity of the resurrection, and historical experience. The specific method of creation is not such a big deal to me as the Creator Himself.

- The EvolutionISTS extreme says that “evolution must be true, and therefore God is ruled out.” That also makes an illogical leap, and is way too dismissive of the historicity of the resurrection, and the validity of spiritual and other-dimensional phenomena.

So ruling out the extreme positions, I guess that somewhere between them we may have a bit of both. How much of either, is the question: how do science and Scripture work together? This is my cosmological question.

Working along the continuum, then, here are my main thoughts.

1. God could have made it all in six days, like Jesus made superb wine in an instant: aged but new.

The earth is made aged for stability, as the wine is made aged for flavor. Therefore science would be tracking the stability processes required to get what we’ve got, and piecing together apparent timelines, rather than tracking actual time. Scientists may say this is a convoluted argument to wriggle out of the evidence, but the quantum conundrums we’ve encountered so far may make this more plausible in time – that’s a long way off though, and not necessary to make this theoretical point. It is possible.

2. How we interpret Genesis is a key, and more than one interpretation is possible.

Genesis creation accounts are not about science. They are theological. Therefore scientific discoveries need not have a bearing on the theological accounts. God’s creation is recorded first poetically, then again as a story, to be orally passed on. When Paul refers to creation (eg Romans 5) he can be referring to it theologically to sufficiently make his own theological point. (Paul wasn’t working in a scientific paradigm either. His case was based on the theological premise provided by Genesis.)

3. Evolution has some merit but not in the mainstream understanding. I don’t buy random selection.

Perry Marshall is a fascinating read. He has a take on evolution that is incredible, about how DNA strands “make choices” about the specific segments to change when threatened. This suggests the finger of God in the choosing (like Mindful quantum behavior) and / or the miraculous design of the molecular “choice” processes in the first place.

The Fall becomes a theological difficulty if we accept some form of evolutionary process. If we evolved under God’s hand, then death would be part of creation from the beginning of its evolution, but Scripture says death wasn’t part of the world until the Fall.
- We might resolve this by saying that God didn’t “breathe his Spirit” into us until we were evolved enough to be in His image.
- Or we might resolve it by using the same old-new argument as in point 1.
- Or we may resolve it by saying that as theological records, Genesis isn’t perturbed by scientific findings about processes: the process of creation may be evolutionary but experienced from a higher, other-dimensional viewpoint, which disarmed death. But death-in-respect-to-God came with our conscious choice to sin, and the out-of-Eden experience reduced us to the dimensions of time and space, giving death its frightening sting.

My current position is a short creation, made old-so-as-to-be-stable. This is my simple way of trying to integrate (with integrity) evolutionary evidence somehow. But I’m still sympathetic with those who try long-earth ways to integrate all the evidence.
Whilst I can’t go with sloppy pop evolutionism (that random mutation is responsible for it all: there just isn’t enough time even in a long-earth evolution) there are alternatives (like the afore-mentioned Perry Marshall.) But still,  the most difficult issue for long-age Christian evolutionists is that of death before the Fall, and how to integrate that without downgrading Scripture’s historicity across the board.

However it could be possible. For example:
- the space-time earth grows over a long-time as part of “Eden” which is the spiritual, more-than-space-time reality.
- seen from that viewpoint of all-dimensions, death might merely be a transformation from one form to another, and thus no problem in Eden.
- But when The Fall occurs and we become restricted to space-time, the viewpoint shifts to space-time, out-of-Eden.
- Now death is final, has a sting, is the consequence of sin for us.
- Perhaps this happens at a late point in a long-earth time-span of the space-time dimension of creation.

This approach then interprets the Creation stories as explanations of other-dimensional realities, just like Jesus’ descriptions of Heaven and Hell: descriptions in our terms, of spiritual other-dimensional realities we simply can’t imagine.
I’m sympathetic to such an approach, though it takes a lot more work for Westerners to grasp, due to cultural reluctance to accept evidences for spiritual dimensions.

Admittedly there is much conjecture here, but I maintain there are  ways to interpret and inter-connect the theological and scientific material.

More info is yet to come in. So perhaps it is appropriate that I don’t settle on one explanation until then (which isn’t likely this side of eternity.) As long as I can see a way to make sense of the science (including the other data about God’s presence and action in history and experience) within the theological framework of Scripture, then I’m happy for the Creation method to remain a bit of a mystery to me.

I don’t think I hold this position out of ignorance.

Cheers,
Geoff

I sure hope this helps someone!

Magi Mullets?

Did the Magi wear mullets?

Andrew Jones makes this a worthwhile study!

Cheers

In defence of the do-gooder

In defence of the do-gooder.    by my friend, Ken Maley   

Australians hate “do-gooders”. That’s the impression I get from listening to talk-back radio and coffee break conversations. Which is weird, because I also observe that Australians love to celebrate those who do good, and their achievements.

Whether it is the surgeon who gives up her annual leave to freely offer expertise to those in third world countries who have no other hope of treatment, or the Salvation Army officer who faithfully collects our cast-off coins on the street corner, my sense, as reflected in the pages and airwaves of our media, is that we are proud and supportive of those who do good in our community and beyond.

So what is this apparent contradiction all about?

Perhaps it has something to do with having our collective conscience pricked. When somebody stands up and says in word and action that it is possible to do something to serve the world for good, my response can be one of discomfort. It would be far easier for me to rest assured that idealism is for those who have no contact with reality. It especially confronting when I observe people who have less physical and monetary resources than I, giving what they have in order to change the world, or a small part of it, for the better.

It is handy to have a grab bag of adjectives to add to the description of “do-gooders”.  It is especially useful if I can see such people as pompous, self-important, hypocrites or pathetic dreamers.  By use of such a filtering mechanism I can reduce the number of truly good people to a few super-human beings whose level of attainment is so far beyond my potential that it is not worth the time or effort to even try. 

The danger, of course, is that by separating myself from the evil “do-gooders” I may run the risk of becoming the self righteous person I despise.  More than that, I might just miss out on a golden opportunity. 

I have a fair idea that most of us, at the heart of it, wish our lives to be joyful.  Fairly soon we shall be celebrating Christmas and already there is very little room at the inn, the crowded shopping malls or in my pre-Christmas schedule.

As I understand it, the bloke that all this fuss is about tried to help people understand where they might find joy. He seemed to be talking about joy that lasts longer than transient fortunes of the share market or the “new car” smell of my latest purchases. The equation for a joyful life, a good life, is pretty simple arithmetic. It involves treating other people the way you would have them treat you. Simple, but not easy. 

Despite the warm glow of the nativity scene, we are about to celebrate the birth of somebody who was rejected.  I cannot imagine returning to my family’s town in such dire need as the fiancé of a young woman about to give birth, and have no one, not one relative or friend to look after our child or us.  The “meek and mild” baby grew up to be a “do-gooder”.  His words and actions irritated and threatened the hierarchy of the religious rulers of the day that they arranged his execution. 

Maybe after 2000 years I can give up my fear of “do-gooders”.  If they look like they are in danger of loosing themselves in their own naivety or self-importance, then maybe I can afford them the recognition that they are at least having a go, even if it is not serving them well.  Maybe we could sit down, share a beer, and try to understand each other.  I like to think that JC would raise his glass to that.

 

 

What Jesus can do for you

Ask not what Jesus can do for you, but what you can do for God.

After what I’ve said about consumerism in the Church, many oldies may remember that they came to faith based on the things Jesus can do for them. That was one of the sweet things Billy Graham told people.  And they didn’t become rampant consumers. 

I think that’s because when Billy Graham came to Australia from the 50′s onwards, it wasn’t a culture steeped in consumerism like it is now. They heard that message in the context of, “the greater good.” So they weren’t likely to default to a consumer-Christianity. 

But now the context is different – we don’t hear about the greater good anymore. We hear only about individual satisfaction. So we have to be careful about saying, “Jesus does all this for you – buy him.” 

Yes he does do amazing things for us, but one of the things he calls us to do is die to ourselves that we might find real life – life without fear of losing stuff, life without self-centered concerns, life working for the greater good of God’s Kingdom (all of creation). 

So if we’re ever to rise above our poultry consumer chains, we need to hear Jesus say, “What can you do for this world!”