Here's the new topic.  Things are crazy right now, with a death in the family and everything else we've got going.  Aaach.  This one is pretty wordy, but this week we're engaging in a lot of instructive activities.  So we're trying to balance.

FAITH: Yours. Mine. Ours.

There are basically two ways for us to look at the issue of faith.  Through the eyes of our cultural context, that is Americans in the early 21^st century, or through the eyes of the Biblical context, which is to view it through the narrative of the people of God over the ages. 

There are necessary things we must know about both.  First, the culture in which we are raised will always, always have an effect on what we think about everything.  That cannot be undone.  However, the danger is when it is the deciding factor of how we view things.  Second, the Biblical context has a two-fold nature; 1) the historical context for the information itself, ie, when the Bible talks about places and people, it means those places and those people 2) the broader, spiritual application, ie, when the Bible talks about places and people, it means to make reference to the situation, so that we may learn from that situation, and know how to react when we are in that particular situation ourselves. 

So, what I would like to look at is a set of dichotomies, opposite comparisons, that look at our cultural view of faith, and the Biblical view of faith.  These dichotomies are:

Acceptable v. Required, Individual v. Communal, and Private v. Persuasive.

Acceptable v. Required

This is really the argument of Unnecessary v. Necessary.  The cultural view of ‘faith is acceptable’, that is, ‘It’s OK to have one, if you want to, but I’m not going to make you have one if you don’t want to.’, is built primarily on arrogance and ignorance. 

Saying that faith is acceptable is saying that no faith is also acceptable, and ultimately is judging the fact that one has a faith at all.  What are the connotations, the feelings behind a word like acceptable?  They are derogatory.  You can do that, but I don’t see why you would.  So really, what is being said in more culturally ‘sensitive’ terms is, you don’t really need one, but if you want one, we can’t make fun of you to your face for it. 

Secondly, the idea that a person doesn’t hold a faith is just ridiculous.  I’m sure you’ve heard it all before, but let us look at if its even possible not to hold a faith. 

Everyone has a faith in something.  Christians believe in Christ, sure, but humanists have faith that humanity can achieve its own ends. 

Agnostics believe that something is out there somewhere, and have faith that we can make it without that something until we have to interact with that something…at some point.  Even atheists believe that what they believe is true.  They have faith in their faith. 

So calling faith ‘acceptable’ is really a way of saying it’s unnecessary.

However, we know this not to be the case.  Not only is a faith a default position—everybody has one of some kind or another—it is required to be a healthy human being.  You have to have one to be able to function correctly, and I’m not even talking about the normal examples of having faith in chairs and stop lights and mailmen and my internet provider.  I’m talking about a belief about the outer realms, about the spiritual world. 

There have been studies, which I can’t find on the internet but I’ve read about and so am going to quote even without all the proof, that have shown that people with a firm belief, one way or another, about the spiritual realm live happier, healthier lives.  Everyone needs a way of viewing the un-viewable.

But, we know that beyond it being a basic psychological need, there is a true imperative behind which decision we make in faith.  How do we know this? Hebrews 11:6: And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him., and add that to John 14:6: Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.   These two combined equal a need for a faith, and where that faith is meant to be placed. 

These are just two very immediate examples out of the great narrative of faith that is the Bible, with the nature of a chosen people, a chosen God and the faith passed between the two.

Individual v. Communal

The story of the Bible is one that starts with a community, is about a community throughout, and then ends with a community.  First there is the triune God, then there is the addition of His creation and a chosen group of them to be His people, and then the final pinnacle of those who follow Christ and what happens with them at the end of all time.  Community, community, community. 

But how do we know that faith is meant to be communal?  Well, there is the fact that for all of the generations up to Jesus, there was a central Temple where ALL, catch that ALL, of the Hebrews went to worship YHWH.  This was the ultimate pinnacle of community.  All of a single people group was expected to worship their special God in one place, at least once a year—Passover. 

For a New Testament example of the nature of faith being communal, you have the example of…the New Testament.  Of what is the majority of New Testament composed?  Letters to…that’s right…put it together…THE COMMUNITY!  All of the faith issues addressed by Paul, Peter, John and the other Epistle writers were meant to be addressed in public, communal settings.  Yes, they related to personal issues of piety or purity, individual responses to the gospel or to false teaching, but they were addressed to the community as a whole.  How is the community handling the people within it?  It was, and is, the responsibility of the community to maintain a standard to which each individual must hold. 

That is why the letters were addressed to communities, about individual necessity.

This is not the way our culture tells us we should handle our faith.  To whom does faith apply in our culture?  The individual.  You do things your way, I’ll do things mine.  Don’t tell me how you do your faith, because I don’t want you telling me how I should do my faith.  Even if I don’t have a faith—I know, I know—but even if I say I don’t have a faith, you can’t tell me about the faith that you have, because that might mean you are trying to make me believe in your faith. 

Faith is something that we are to pursue in the quiet of our own home, in our own private life, and we are not to share that experience. 

Don’t think that has influenced your faith?  Think about this:  when was the last time you looked someone in the eye while singing a worship song at church?  When was the last time you gave someone a hug while praying?  When was the last time you felt really, really embarrassed for touching or bumping or whatevering someone in church?  This culture of individuality has pervaded even how we act when we gather together, supposedly in the name of community worship. 

It’s true the nature of our individual relationship with God is without a doubt of primary importance.  We cannot have a community of believers if we don’t have individual believers.  But neither can we call ourselves a community if when we gather together we spend all of that time in our individual pursuits.  There is a time, a place, and a necessity for each.  We cannot isolate our belief to the individual. 

Private v. Persuasive

So, out of that individualism in faith grows the idea of a ‘private’ faith.  A private faith is one that is non-vocal.  It doesn’t talk about itself or communicate the things about itself that are different or necessary or essential, or anything at all.  A private faith is one which grows quiet due to the individual nature of its practice. 

This is the way that we are expected to behave with our faith in the American culture.  ‘I believe in God, sure, I just don’t go around tootin’ my horn about it.’  Pretty typical Joe-on-the-street response. 

And this translates into any type of communication about your faith, including demonstrative, or obvious actions but non-vocal, communication. 

If we are out serving people, and it is well known that we are Christians, whether we are doing it for the sake of evangelization or not, that will be the assumption.  And that will be looked down on.  Because faith should be private.

And obviously, there is a private aspect to our faith.  We have a quiet element: we don’t want to go out confessing on the street corners every sin we’ve committed, or jump up in inappropriate situations and start preaching the gospel—like at the library or in the middle of a funeral.  There is a time for silence.

However, there is also this, Matthew 28: 19: Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Seems pretty clear. 

It is not only part of our faith to be vocal, but is a Jesus-commanded part of our faith to be vocal, in a way that produces disciples.

So, there are two sides to this persuasive vocality.  We can’t just go be vocal, and not produce anything.  That’s just annoying, and is probably a big reason why people in the West hate Christians.  And the other side of that is we can’t swallow everything we know, and not demonstrate or speak about it when the time comes.  Both of those are necessary: restraint and participation.  Because we are meant to have a persuasive faith, a faith that shows others what love is, and why they should have it.  People should see what our lives look like, and know that we have a love for one another that is unnatural, and that it is because we have a love for God.  That kind of stuff persuades people. 

So, what’s my point.

My point is this.  The culture in which we live seems to want to remove a lot of what it means to have a faith that is life changing.  The culture sends messages about it being ok, but unnecessary to have a faith.  The culture sends messages about how what’s ok for you, isn’t necessarily what I need—there is no group dynamic to faith, we don’t have to participate in anything together.  The culture sends messages about how your faith should stay quiet—keep that to yourself, the culture seems to say.

But a life-changing faith knows what it is based on.  A life-changing faith knows who it’s for.  A life-changing faith knows it has to share, be shared in, and communicate itself around the world.  Because it changes lives.  That’s what makes it life changing. 

Read the Bible.  That’s what our faith looks like.  Not some mamby-pamby thing that doesn’t mean anything to anybody—or even worse can mean anything to anybody.  Rather, it is a faith with a central core of necessity and community and communication and need and love and change. 

Hebrews 11:1: Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. That is life changing faith.

(After a hiatus, time spent rethinking the purpose and style of this blog and achieving some goals in meatspace, Widows_and_Ravens is back with a new entry!)

Pretty much everyone in orthodox Christianity (a generous assumption here on my part) believes in miracles.  And, in that group that believe in miracles, pretty much everyone has the same definition of a miracle.  It sounds something like this: a point in time and space where God’s love and sovereignty come together to right a wrong, bring justice, create a better situation, etc…for the kingdom of God.  If it doesn’t sound quite like that, it sounds something similar, and means something about the same.  As far as I can tell.

However, when it comes to how miracles happen (leaving behind the discussion of why for another time), there seem to be two differing viewpoints.  Maybe there are more, but they seem to fall into these two categories, broadly speaking. 

First, there is the view that God, in God’s transcendence of all things created, intervenes on the behalf of God’s people, either upon supplication or of God’s own decision. This view is best visualized in the painting of the Sistine Chapel Ceiling, that famous picture where the finger of God is reaching down to Adam (who, for some reason is hanging out naked on some shellfish—that’s not even kosher).  Hence, it will be called the Finger Theory.  God’s miracles are an intervention of God from outside the space-time continuum, and are achieved through external manipulation of events, from an overarching view of time, space, and the created beings within each.

Second, there is the view that God is living in God’s kingdom, and God’s miracles emanate from that very organic relationship.  These manipulations of creation are not from the outside in.  Rather, they are from the inside out, and are an outflow of the constant interaction that God has with God’s kingdom residents.  The best analogy I can think of for this outflow model is that miracles are God’s snot.  This will be called the Snot Theory.

Now, why snot?  Because, in the human body, snot (or mucus to be more medically correct) is produced without any purposed input, unlike urine or feces, which require a purposeful consumption of either a fluid or a solid (plus, I’d probably get a lot more argument if I were to call miracles God’s Poop).  It is a healing byproduct of the body.  It is used to change things for the better and make things good again.  I realize it gets a bad wrap, has a bad reputation, and can even make some people puke.  But I think it fits. 

God’s miracles are a byproduct of God’s being.  Being in relationship with creation, in relationship with time and space, in relationship (perhaps most of all) with God’s Kingdom.  Snot is a byproduct of a human body, which is made of cells, which are made of carbon.  Therefore, I can say, in one sense at least, that Humans are carbon.  God is love.  Why can’t God’s byproducts be miracles?  What else would the by product of a being made of Love be? Because in one sense, if God is love, I can say God is made of love.

Look at the ministry of Jesus.  His time was spent primarily in teaching people about the Kingdom of God.  His healing, weather stopping, and feeding miracles all came as a byproduct of his relationship with the people around Him, in connection with the fact that He loved them, and had the sovereign position of being able to pronounce people healed and forgiven. 

It looks like this: (God’s Love + God’s Sovereignty) = Miracles

                                    God’s Kingdom

God’s love and sovereignty divided amongst God’s Kingdom will, inevitably, wreak miracles.  That is the nature of our relationship to God—with God—in God.

Now, this doesn’t deflate the importance or greatness of miracles.  And, though it might take a few steps toward de-mystifying them (in some people’s minds), it certainly doesn’t have to.  Look at what this means!  We are part of the Kingdom, therefore, we are part of the everyday interaction of God with God’s creation, and therefore part of the working of miracles.  God doesn’t just reach down and manipulate things every now and then, God’s doing it all the time!  Miracles don’t have to be something we expect now and again, if we get the timing right, and God is listening, and can spare some time.  Rather, they can be something we can expect, as things get harder, and we are drawn deeper and deeper in our relationship with Christ.  The cogs of the kingdom working to make it right.  God’s Snot coming to flush out the enemy’s pollen nodules in the nose of our lives.

It makes sense that a God who wants relationship, on a personal level, would be in that relationship.  Right?  All the time?  So, therefore, it makes sense that, if all things are working together for the good of those found in the Kingdom of God, that God would be doing that work, right?  But that isn’t the main point is it?  Miracles are God’s Snot.  They are the natural outgrowth of God’s love and work in our lives.  God’s own awesome Snot.  But we don’t worship the Snot.  We worship the God. 

I need a bigger hanky.

Coming from rural Missouri, I am what you might consider a country boy.  Unless you knew me, then you might call me a 'college boy'.  Of course, to most, these are mutual exclusive. 

The most violent place we see this divide is perhaps in the ecclesiatical community (violent and ecclesiatical--two words which all to often are crossed and never should be).  There are those on the 'top' who, in the eyes of those on the 'bottom' "learn from books".  Then, there are those on the 'bottom' who, in the eyes of those on the 'top' "resist education". 

The issue arises from a false dichotomy drawn between 'learning' and 'inspiration'.  Learning, in this context, is considered anything which can be taught by a teacher, or read in a book.  Something which is conveyed in a human way, from human to human.  Inspiration, however, is that which is given in a divine way, most often from God to man, therefore being implying a holy knowledge.  Prophecy, words of knowledge, intercessory prayers, and spontaneous worship often fall in this category. 

The problem comes from each of the two groups claiming propriety to one or the other of these groups of knowledge.  'Academics' becomes both a title of pride and a slur, as does 'Pentecostal', given those who claim exclusive knowledge of the 'inspired' often label them selves in this manner. 

What happens in an environment such as this is dangerous.  For those academics who shun inspiration as being unnecessary or non-intelligent (or even anti-intelligent) find themselves locked away in an ivory tower as it were, looking at issues from a perspective which not only isolates them from those for whom they should be doing their research, those whom they would presumedly educate.  The issues become dry, and have little or no life beyond the search for an answer.  The Bible is especially dangerous to view in this way.  The Pharisees are a great example of this. For those that are claiming inspiration is the only way to study, the problem is also isolation, but of a different kind.  Ideas become more and more wild, as each and every whim becomes considered with more and more weight.  Things which, previously, would have been seen as clearly ridiculous become canonical.  Another, diffenrent set of rules emerge, and most often, a single 'most inspired' person rises to the top.  Weird practices become ritual, and hereseys canonical.  I would site both the Essenes and Gnostics as good examples of this.  Mysticism without grounding in study.

And that is the crux of the issue.  There is no exclusion in the search of knowledge from the Bible.  Study is not the only way, nor is inspiration.  Rather, I believe that there is a spectrum.  There are people who engage with the Bible in a most meaningful way through study, they find that with more and more factual information, more and more scientific, literary, etc...information, they find more and more of God.  There are those as well that find an inspiring experience with God most fulfilling, reveling in times of spontaneous reading, or times when the Bible comes alight to them not through study but seemingly from nowhere, via God's speaking to them.  Neither of these people are wrong.

However, they must stay on the spectrum!  Those who study the Bible must remember that there needs to be space in their life where God can still speak, against all odds and outside of the facts.  Again, those who enjoy an experience must remember that only through study, can we stay grounded in the Bible.  

Remember, Paul was Saul, the most Jewish of all Jews and knowledgeable of the law.  He also had a miraculous experience, and continued to walk in miracle ministry.  His grounding in his knowledge of God made it possible for him to experience God's miracles more totally, and God's miracles brought his knowledge of the law to life.