"For the Hellenistic approach, a true Christian is one who is one inwardly, period, stop. And this is true. But I also want to say that we have inward Christians and outward Christians, faithful Christians and adulterous Christians, temporary Christians and Christians forever, slaves and sons, wheat and tares, sons of Hagar and sons of Sarah, washed pigs and washed lambs, fruitless branches and fruitful branches, Christians who die in the wilderness and Christians who die in Canaan, and so on." - Douglas Wilson
I've been lurking on Wilson's blog for the better part of a year now and while I don't agree with everything he says, there are a great number of golden nuggets to be collected from many of his posts. In the Reformed community we tend to take this Hellenistic approach to define what it means to be a Christian. We often say, "Either you are, or you aren't" and, as Wilson says, this is true. But it is not the whole picture. Our definition of "Christian" is far too narrow and no where near dynamic enough for the interpretive paradigm of 'Covenant Family'. What I want to do here is to try and expand our understanding of the descriptive range of "Christian." First, we need to define what, exactly, qualifies one to be called a Christian. Then we need to decide whether or not it's possible to be a Christian and not be saved. Finally, we will look at the characteristics that distinguish and give rise to our traditionally simple inward/outward view.
So, what must one do in order to be considered a Christian? Peter sums it up quite nicely in his sermon preached to the crowd that gathered around the noise of Pentecost (Acts 2). He said, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit" (v. 38) Seems easy enough; if you've repented and you've been baptized, then you're a Christian, right? Well, advocates of believer's baptism would agree here but Peter doesn't stop there: "The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off--for all whom the Lord our God will call" (v. 39). Peter is using the very common language from the Old Covenant (see Gen. 12:1-3, 17:1-9). From this we can see that not only those who repent and are baptized are Christian, but also their children; indeed, for "all whom the Lord" calls. The "promise" in verse 39 is not dependent upon every single individual in the family of the believer repenting and being baptized. This is the primary mistake of believer's baptism advocates. To be considered a Christian, then, one need but (a) repent and be baptized or (b) be a child of one who has repented and been baptized. Thus, a Christian is not necessarily one who has faith in Jesus. In this most generic sense it is possible to be a Christian and not even be aware of the fact. The implications here are astounding, especially given a high view of the physical Church and its role as spiritual mentor and disciplinarian. I don't want to delve deeply here, though, as this will be a long enough post already.
Having set out what qualifies one as a Christian, we can turn and easily answer the next question: is it possible to be a Christian and not be saved. If we define "Christian" in the narrow sense of "God's elected" then the answer is a resounding "No!", God is faithful to those who are His, those whom He has given to Jesus in order to be raised into His likeness. We have gotten complacent in defining "Christian" in only this manner and ignoring the bigger picture painted by all of Scripture. Again, it's not that this definition isn't true, it's that it isn't robust or as full as it could be. Hence Wilson's desire to have not only Christians who are saved, but those who aren't saved (as with Israel in the Old Testament), those who are fruitful branches and those who aren't, etc. Such a definition enables us to broaden our perspective and can help keep our judgmental natures in check. For example, just because a so-called "Christian" (and we would use quotation marks to describe them this way) isn't producing fruit now doesn't mean he shouldn't be considered, and treated, as a brother in Christ. The Father is the one who prunes the branches. This, however, does not free us from the task of accountability and making sure, to the extent that we (i.e. the Church) can, that those who wear the moniker of Christian (especially in the generic sense) are living in an appropriate manner.
How did we come about adopting the inward/outward model as our primary definition? For one, I think it's the easiest on our theology. There's no trying to figure out who is and who isn't as a matter of orthopraxy because, ultimately, this definition leaves it up to God. You are a Christian inwardly and saved (which means you are also one outwardly) or you are a Christian outwardly and are in need of reconciliation/salvation; black and white. The only judgment we make in this instance is whether or not we believe their outward behavior is a genuine reflection of an inward reality. None of this "son of Sarah or son of Hagar" mumbo jumbo. Where we come into error with this definition is when we make it the epitomic arbiter of how we understand the term "Christian." I say let "Christian" be as nuanced as the people it describes.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
An Embodied Philosophy
Rationality, reason and abstract thought (such as that found in formal logic and various mathematical systems) are typically understood as those characteristics which distinguish us from the rest of the animal kingdom and creation. The locus of self-awareness is this cluster of distinctly human attributes which allow for critical introspective reflection and definition. These faculties also, along with our physical environments and circumstances, supposedly shape and direct our thought processes depending on how effectively they are implimented. But whence these abilities? I've been reading a book, Philosophy in the Flesh, by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson that suggests they arise as natural functions of our brains. Here's the first few sentences of the first chapter:
The mind is inherently embodied.
Thought is mostly unconcious.
Abstract concepts are largely metaphorical.
These are three major findings of cognitive science. More than two millennia of a priori philosophical speculation about these aspects of reason are over. Because of these discoveries, philosophy can never be the same again.
They have argued, so far (I'm only 40 pages in), that thought/reason is an unconcious metaphorical structuring based on sensorimotor perception. Thought functions the way it does as a result of being embodied in the peculiar way that we are with eyes, ears, arms, legs and suchnot. And not just that we have these various sensing appendages as mere influence, but how they interact with reality actually determines the neurological connections, associations and pathways in our brains which, in turn, give rise to conscious experience of that reality.
For example, if we had only red and blue color cones in our eyes then we would not (could not) see grass as green. The truth of the matter, Lakoff and Johnson argue, is that grass isn't any color at all: "Our experience of color is created by a combination of four factors: wavelengths of reflected light, lighting conditions and two aspects of our bodies: (1) the three kinds of color cones in our retinas, which absorb light of long, medium and short wavelengths, and (2) the complex neural circuitry connected to those cones." They continue on to point out that the wavelengths of light reflected by any given object is not constant; that is to say, an object may be reflecting particular wavelengths of short, medium and long freqencies at one time of the day and reflecting a completely different set of frequencies at another time of the day so there is no consistency in the type of wavelengths being reflected. The only constant is the amount of light being reflected at any given time by any given source(s). Light itself, however, is colorless, "Visible light is elctromagnetic radiation, like radio waves, vibrating within a certain frequency range. It is not the kind of thing that could be colored." Long story short, it turns out that color is "produced" by our particular physiology interacting with the physical world.
So what does all of this mean besides being an elaborate attempt to prove that there's no such thing as colorblindness? Well, for Lakoff and Johnson it means there is a natural (read evolutionary) explanation for our conscious and unconscious thought life. The subtitle for their book is The Embodied Mind and its Challenge to Western Thought, if that helps give a picture of the direction they are going. They believe the concept of the embodied mind has several important consequences for the activity of philosophy. Since reason is nothing more than a complex neuralogical happening, it cannot be seen as something which distinguishes us from the rest of the animal kingdom; in other words, we are not, they say, "uniquely rational" (emphasis mine). In fact, reason is primarily an unconscious activity. No one thinks about reasoning, we just do it. Of the thousands of things that we do every day only a handful of them are things we consciously reason about. Even individuals engaged within the fields of formal logic, mathematics or those dealing with any sort of abstract formal system are primarily using reason unconsciously. This is because reason is neurally structured via conceptual metaphors (such as container schemas or spatial-relation schemas) and sensorimotor perceptions long before we have any conscious access to it.
None of this is new. Christian theology has been teaching an embodied philosophy since its very beginning (e.g. Jesus' incarnation, Word becoming flesh, etc.). While the above "natural" view is capable of explaining 'whence reason', it is not capable of explaining 'that reason'. The fact that we reason is taken for granted and given no explaination; I think it's kind of an important question. I imagine if you ask either Lakoff or Johnson "why?" they would both promptly reply with "survival" or some variation thereof. But watching the news for an hour is more than enough to do away with such a simple abracadabra. Like learning langauges, reason is something wired into the functionality of the human brain by DNA. With the natural view all animals are rational, it's just that their rationality isn't quite as robust as ours, yet. How does self-awareness come into this picture? I don't know, like I said, I'm only 40 pages into the book and I'm hoping they get around to that part. I expect more prestidigitation, but at least it will be educational. Ultimately I think they are heading in the right direction; an incarnational approach to epistemology would look very similar to this embodied philosophy and I believe that is the way to bring every thought captive to Christ.
The mind is inherently embodied.
Thought is mostly unconcious.
Abstract concepts are largely metaphorical.
These are three major findings of cognitive science. More than two millennia of a priori philosophical speculation about these aspects of reason are over. Because of these discoveries, philosophy can never be the same again.
They have argued, so far (I'm only 40 pages in), that thought/reason is an unconcious metaphorical structuring based on sensorimotor perception. Thought functions the way it does as a result of being embodied in the peculiar way that we are with eyes, ears, arms, legs and suchnot. And not just that we have these various sensing appendages as mere influence, but how they interact with reality actually determines the neurological connections, associations and pathways in our brains which, in turn, give rise to conscious experience of that reality.
For example, if we had only red and blue color cones in our eyes then we would not (could not) see grass as green. The truth of the matter, Lakoff and Johnson argue, is that grass isn't any color at all: "Our experience of color is created by a combination of four factors: wavelengths of reflected light, lighting conditions and two aspects of our bodies: (1) the three kinds of color cones in our retinas, which absorb light of long, medium and short wavelengths, and (2) the complex neural circuitry connected to those cones." They continue on to point out that the wavelengths of light reflected by any given object is not constant; that is to say, an object may be reflecting particular wavelengths of short, medium and long freqencies at one time of the day and reflecting a completely different set of frequencies at another time of the day so there is no consistency in the type of wavelengths being reflected. The only constant is the amount of light being reflected at any given time by any given source(s). Light itself, however, is colorless, "Visible light is elctromagnetic radiation, like radio waves, vibrating within a certain frequency range. It is not the kind of thing that could be colored." Long story short, it turns out that color is "produced" by our particular physiology interacting with the physical world.
So what does all of this mean besides being an elaborate attempt to prove that there's no such thing as colorblindness? Well, for Lakoff and Johnson it means there is a natural (read evolutionary) explanation for our conscious and unconscious thought life. The subtitle for their book is The Embodied Mind and its Challenge to Western Thought, if that helps give a picture of the direction they are going. They believe the concept of the embodied mind has several important consequences for the activity of philosophy. Since reason is nothing more than a complex neuralogical happening, it cannot be seen as something which distinguishes us from the rest of the animal kingdom; in other words, we are not, they say, "uniquely rational" (emphasis mine). In fact, reason is primarily an unconscious activity. No one thinks about reasoning, we just do it. Of the thousands of things that we do every day only a handful of them are things we consciously reason about. Even individuals engaged within the fields of formal logic, mathematics or those dealing with any sort of abstract formal system are primarily using reason unconsciously. This is because reason is neurally structured via conceptual metaphors (such as container schemas or spatial-relation schemas) and sensorimotor perceptions long before we have any conscious access to it.
None of this is new. Christian theology has been teaching an embodied philosophy since its very beginning (e.g. Jesus' incarnation, Word becoming flesh, etc.). While the above "natural" view is capable of explaining 'whence reason', it is not capable of explaining 'that reason'. The fact that we reason is taken for granted and given no explaination; I think it's kind of an important question. I imagine if you ask either Lakoff or Johnson "why?" they would both promptly reply with "survival" or some variation thereof. But watching the news for an hour is more than enough to do away with such a simple abracadabra. Like learning langauges, reason is something wired into the functionality of the human brain by DNA. With the natural view all animals are rational, it's just that their rationality isn't quite as robust as ours, yet. How does self-awareness come into this picture? I don't know, like I said, I'm only 40 pages into the book and I'm hoping they get around to that part. I expect more prestidigitation, but at least it will be educational. Ultimately I think they are heading in the right direction; an incarnational approach to epistemology would look very similar to this embodied philosophy and I believe that is the way to bring every thought captive to Christ.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Learning Our Story
"Stories define who we are together, and the story of the Church is the gospel, which is the whole story of the Bible, which is the story of the totus Christus. By defining ourselves as "New Testament" Christians, we are attempting to define ourselves by a small fraction of our story. We have institutionalized amnesia; it is a form of insanity. Is it any wonder we do not know who we are?" - Peter J. Leithart
It isn't just the stories that define who we are either, it is the manner in which that story is written as well. What greater or better written story is there than that which we find in the totality of God's word? Leithart makes an important point here, perhaps the key point of this entire book (Against Christianity) in pointing out that Christians are uneducated when it comes to their own culture. Not only this, but we are taught this way in our churches. From a very early age we are taught the stories of the Bible but not the Story of the Bible that underscores them. We learn all about Abraham and Isaac and about how God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac and how the angel stopped Abraham and God providing the ram in Isaac's place. We even learn that Abraham calls God Yaweh-Jireh and this will continue to be true of Him when He ultimately provides His Son for us. We are taught that Abraham was willing to sacrifice his only son because he had faith that God could even raise Isaac from the dead in order to keep His promise of establishing a great people through him. What we are not taught, however, is that we are the great people. That Abraham is the father of our faith because we, as Gentiles, have been grafted into the Vine and adopted into Israel. That we are Isaac, bound before God underneath the knife of His righteous judgment and Jesus is the substitutionary ram who receives the killing blow.
Abraham's story is my story and your story; Israel's history is our history and the culture of the Scriptures is our culture. The Greeks had their stories, so did the Romans and those nations before (Egpytians, Babylonians, Persians, etc.) where they played an important role in the peoples' understanding and experience of everyday life. Leithart explains, "Myths not only embodied a political and religious vision of the city, but somtimes had direct political cosequences." He offers the example of Alexander the Great associating himself with Achilles and aspiring to obtain such a heroic status; he goes on to conquer the world. America, also, has her own stories and the problem of Christianity today is that it has adopted a story that is not its own. Christianity has abandoned the stories which should be determining and affecting how we experience and interact with all other stories, i.e. the world's stories. I like Leithart's use of the word "embodied" here as this is precisely what we are called to do: embody our faith. Paul admonishes us to offer our bodies as living sacrifices and that this is our spiritual act of worship (Rom. 12:1). What does this entail? Primarily it entails not conforming to the pattern(s) of this world and renewing our minds (v. 2) so that we are able to approve what God's will is.
Is this what Christianity does today? A quick browsing through you local Christian bookstore should be enough to answer this question. Sure we pay lipservice to "going against the flow" and being "counter-cultural", we've all seen the T-shirts and bumper stickers. The problem is that we aren't called to go against the flow or be counter-cultural; we are called to not be in the flow at all, we are called to reform culture and bring it to Christ by making it conform with the culture Scripture has already established for us in the story of the gospel. In other words, we are to bring the story of the gospel to the world, not bring the story of the world to the gospel. The story of the world isn't big enough to contain the story of the gospel. What we, as Christians, need to do is learn and know this gospel story as our identities in Christ are defined by it; we need to make this story our story.
It isn't just the stories that define who we are either, it is the manner in which that story is written as well. What greater or better written story is there than that which we find in the totality of God's word? Leithart makes an important point here, perhaps the key point of this entire book (Against Christianity) in pointing out that Christians are uneducated when it comes to their own culture. Not only this, but we are taught this way in our churches. From a very early age we are taught the stories of the Bible but not the Story of the Bible that underscores them. We learn all about Abraham and Isaac and about how God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac and how the angel stopped Abraham and God providing the ram in Isaac's place. We even learn that Abraham calls God Yaweh-Jireh and this will continue to be true of Him when He ultimately provides His Son for us. We are taught that Abraham was willing to sacrifice his only son because he had faith that God could even raise Isaac from the dead in order to keep His promise of establishing a great people through him. What we are not taught, however, is that we are the great people. That Abraham is the father of our faith because we, as Gentiles, have been grafted into the Vine and adopted into Israel. That we are Isaac, bound before God underneath the knife of His righteous judgment and Jesus is the substitutionary ram who receives the killing blow.
Abraham's story is my story and your story; Israel's history is our history and the culture of the Scriptures is our culture. The Greeks had their stories, so did the Romans and those nations before (Egpytians, Babylonians, Persians, etc.) where they played an important role in the peoples' understanding and experience of everyday life. Leithart explains, "Myths not only embodied a political and religious vision of the city, but somtimes had direct political cosequences." He offers the example of Alexander the Great associating himself with Achilles and aspiring to obtain such a heroic status; he goes on to conquer the world. America, also, has her own stories and the problem of Christianity today is that it has adopted a story that is not its own. Christianity has abandoned the stories which should be determining and affecting how we experience and interact with all other stories, i.e. the world's stories. I like Leithart's use of the word "embodied" here as this is precisely what we are called to do: embody our faith. Paul admonishes us to offer our bodies as living sacrifices and that this is our spiritual act of worship (Rom. 12:1). What does this entail? Primarily it entails not conforming to the pattern(s) of this world and renewing our minds (v. 2) so that we are able to approve what God's will is.
Is this what Christianity does today? A quick browsing through you local Christian bookstore should be enough to answer this question. Sure we pay lipservice to "going against the flow" and being "counter-cultural", we've all seen the T-shirts and bumper stickers. The problem is that we aren't called to go against the flow or be counter-cultural; we are called to not be in the flow at all, we are called to reform culture and bring it to Christ by making it conform with the culture Scripture has already established for us in the story of the gospel. In other words, we are to bring the story of the gospel to the world, not bring the story of the world to the gospel. The story of the world isn't big enough to contain the story of the gospel. What we, as Christians, need to do is learn and know this gospel story as our identities in Christ are defined by it; we need to make this story our story.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Theology vs. The Bible
"Theology is a specialized, professional language, often employing obscure (Latin and Greek) terms that are never used by anyone but theologians, as if theologians live in and talk about a different world from the one mortals inhabit. Theology functions sociologically like other professional languages--to keep people out and to help the members of the guild identify one another. Whereas the Bible talks about trees and stars, about donkeys and barren women, about kings and queens and carpenters." - Peter J. Leithart
We take for granted the use of everyday language. Our lives are grounded in narrative so much so that we don't even really notice anymore. Scripture is also written in primarily a narrative format, and when it is not narrating a story, it is written as prophecy or prose. So where does our formal system of theology come from? What do we mean when we say that there are "timeless truths" in Scripture which fit nicely within a coherent set of doctrines? Some of us (myself included) use it to refer to the system of beliefs commonly called Reformed Covenant Theology while others refer to Dispensationalism, Catholicism, etc. The problem with such systems is that they tend to be gregarious to the extent that they breed exclusion. We are no longer a diversified body, we are, instead, a collection of body parts disassembled on the machinist's floor. Each part has the audacity to claim it is attached to something it calls a "body" while the other parts laugh at the utter foolishness of such a claim, undaunted by the reality that they are in a similar predicament.
So what do I propose? Well, I propose that my system is right but not to the exclusion of others. We should have open eyes and ears to see and hear God's truth no matter what "ism" it is attached to. The intellectuals among us should climb down from their ivory towers and mingle with the vulgar on a regular basis so they can see what their writing looks like. In other words, we should be living what is written in the Scriptures concerning goodness, righteousness, beauty, truth and love rather than systematizing it. Now, I have a degree in philosophy so I'm all about a good coherent and cogent systematization. What I, here, wish to combat is an intellectual following of that system at the expense of a physical and spiritual living out of that system. Theology has a tendency to confine God to an abstract box of natures and characteristics which are then hotly debated amongst the fragmented body parts. This isn't just true about God either; we see it in variations on the Lord's Supper, baptism, Scripture and even the gospel message.
In the city of God there is only one people; in the kingdom there is only one King. Here on earth, then, we witness and participate in what amounts to civil war. Why? Because we pit our theologies against one another. We like to test our intellectual mettle against our fellow Christians because it's too much work to pit it against the world. God has given us a revelation which enables us to topple empires and shape nations and we use it to tear down churches that don't agree with us according to every jot and tittle. I certainly don't mind the occassional spat and light-hearted sparring, but too often we (myself included) are guilty of kidney punching and not accidentally. It is cliche to recommend that we let Scripture shape our theology as a solution; that is what we all believe we are already doing. However, if we let Scripture shape our life then it will be obvious who has the right kind of knowledge. Let us pursue the divine as the divine pursues us: with a love that sets the heart of stone on fire.
We take for granted the use of everyday language. Our lives are grounded in narrative so much so that we don't even really notice anymore. Scripture is also written in primarily a narrative format, and when it is not narrating a story, it is written as prophecy or prose. So where does our formal system of theology come from? What do we mean when we say that there are "timeless truths" in Scripture which fit nicely within a coherent set of doctrines? Some of us (myself included) use it to refer to the system of beliefs commonly called Reformed Covenant Theology while others refer to Dispensationalism, Catholicism, etc. The problem with such systems is that they tend to be gregarious to the extent that they breed exclusion. We are no longer a diversified body, we are, instead, a collection of body parts disassembled on the machinist's floor. Each part has the audacity to claim it is attached to something it calls a "body" while the other parts laugh at the utter foolishness of such a claim, undaunted by the reality that they are in a similar predicament.
So what do I propose? Well, I propose that my system is right but not to the exclusion of others. We should have open eyes and ears to see and hear God's truth no matter what "ism" it is attached to. The intellectuals among us should climb down from their ivory towers and mingle with the vulgar on a regular basis so they can see what their writing looks like. In other words, we should be living what is written in the Scriptures concerning goodness, righteousness, beauty, truth and love rather than systematizing it. Now, I have a degree in philosophy so I'm all about a good coherent and cogent systematization. What I, here, wish to combat is an intellectual following of that system at the expense of a physical and spiritual living out of that system. Theology has a tendency to confine God to an abstract box of natures and characteristics which are then hotly debated amongst the fragmented body parts. This isn't just true about God either; we see it in variations on the Lord's Supper, baptism, Scripture and even the gospel message.
In the city of God there is only one people; in the kingdom there is only one King. Here on earth, then, we witness and participate in what amounts to civil war. Why? Because we pit our theologies against one another. We like to test our intellectual mettle against our fellow Christians because it's too much work to pit it against the world. God has given us a revelation which enables us to topple empires and shape nations and we use it to tear down churches that don't agree with us according to every jot and tittle. I certainly don't mind the occassional spat and light-hearted sparring, but too often we (myself included) are guilty of kidney punching and not accidentally. It is cliche to recommend that we let Scripture shape our theology as a solution; that is what we all believe we are already doing. However, if we let Scripture shape our life then it will be obvious who has the right kind of knowledge. Let us pursue the divine as the divine pursues us: with a love that sets the heart of stone on fire.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Christian Ritualism
"Ritual reflects and shapes individual life and the order of a community. It is at the heart of Christian paedeia." - Peter J. Leithart (Against Christianity)
Ritual is, in fact, what defines a community. To understand a society's rituals is to glimpse the threads that hold them together as a people. Take, for instance, American Christianity; it, along with American culture in general, places a great emphasis on individualism and personalizing the Christian experience. We are to seek the truth for ourselves and whatever church we happen to be attending becomes our primary research facility. We ask our leaders great and forboding questions and they gives us their (in our eyes) opinion along with several reading recommendations. In turn, we pick and choose what looks and/or sounds good according to our peculiar circumstances (influenced largely by how we were raised as children) becoming more set in our ways with the passing of time. We come to favor a certain style and flow of worship, specific types of personal devotions, etc. and we ultimately end up with a brand of Christianity to call our own. This is the general process of ending up in First X of Chattanooga or Weeping Mother of Saint X, or whatever.
Never do we stop to examine whether or not Scripture has set forth rituals for us. Sure we have the Lord's Supper and Baptism (along with several others depending on your take) but don't those take place within our own pre-established framework? If you don't believe so, take a moment to reflect on how the Lord's Supper is celebrated in your church. Is it once a week? Is there enough wine and bread for everyone? Is wine even an option? Does the congregation celebrate together or within the individual "bubble" of their pew space? Today the American Church largely ignores her past and confusingly refers to a group of independent ritualists as a "congregation." Instead it should be the common rituals that bring us together, teach us how to interpret the world around us and train us how to live in that world as the people of God; it is also the common rituals that show us how to worship, how to be beautiful, how to be poetic:
"For individuals, Christian ritual trains the body and soul in suitable posture and movement. By moving us through a series of spiritual and physical postures, liturgical ritual imposes a choreography on us. Patterned by rituals of worship, we begin to live life before God as kneeling to confess, as standing to hear, as singing and clapping in praise, as sitting to eat and drink. Worship trains us in the steps for walking, for dancing rightly through life... For groups, ritual depicts the world as it ought to be, the real world as it is believed to be, especially the social and political realities of the world. Christian ritual displays the world as we believe and hope it one day will be. Ritual displays to public view who goes where, how each of us fits into the whole, how the members of the body are knit into one while yet remaining many, how the melodic lines of each individual life harmonize into a communal symphony." - Leithart (ibid)
In my previous post I requested that your individualism be left at the door and what I refered to is that individualism which has established its own personal rituals in addition to, or outside of, the realm of Christian ritual. It was not a request to leave your individuality at the door, as that is what makes you a unique citizen of the kingdom. God has not yet brought us, as individuals, into His presence though we experience it vicariously through the Holy Spirit. Jesus has taken humanity, i.e. human being, into the presence of God and we have the promise of a similar glorification. Jesus didn't just bring humanity into God's presence, He brought a perfected (through Himself) humanity into God's presence. That is the reality, weight and the truth of His ascension; a truth that is known through the ritual of the written word. Learn the rituals of the gospel and live life abundantly in the one who holds and continually presents those rituals for us.
Ritual is, in fact, what defines a community. To understand a society's rituals is to glimpse the threads that hold them together as a people. Take, for instance, American Christianity; it, along with American culture in general, places a great emphasis on individualism and personalizing the Christian experience. We are to seek the truth for ourselves and whatever church we happen to be attending becomes our primary research facility. We ask our leaders great and forboding questions and they gives us their (in our eyes) opinion along with several reading recommendations. In turn, we pick and choose what looks and/or sounds good according to our peculiar circumstances (influenced largely by how we were raised as children) becoming more set in our ways with the passing of time. We come to favor a certain style and flow of worship, specific types of personal devotions, etc. and we ultimately end up with a brand of Christianity to call our own. This is the general process of ending up in First X of Chattanooga or Weeping Mother of Saint X, or whatever.
Never do we stop to examine whether or not Scripture has set forth rituals for us. Sure we have the Lord's Supper and Baptism (along with several others depending on your take) but don't those take place within our own pre-established framework? If you don't believe so, take a moment to reflect on how the Lord's Supper is celebrated in your church. Is it once a week? Is there enough wine and bread for everyone? Is wine even an option? Does the congregation celebrate together or within the individual "bubble" of their pew space? Today the American Church largely ignores her past and confusingly refers to a group of independent ritualists as a "congregation." Instead it should be the common rituals that bring us together, teach us how to interpret the world around us and train us how to live in that world as the people of God; it is also the common rituals that show us how to worship, how to be beautiful, how to be poetic:
"For individuals, Christian ritual trains the body and soul in suitable posture and movement. By moving us through a series of spiritual and physical postures, liturgical ritual imposes a choreography on us. Patterned by rituals of worship, we begin to live life before God as kneeling to confess, as standing to hear, as singing and clapping in praise, as sitting to eat and drink. Worship trains us in the steps for walking, for dancing rightly through life... For groups, ritual depicts the world as it ought to be, the real world as it is believed to be, especially the social and political realities of the world. Christian ritual displays the world as we believe and hope it one day will be. Ritual displays to public view who goes where, how each of us fits into the whole, how the members of the body are knit into one while yet remaining many, how the melodic lines of each individual life harmonize into a communal symphony." - Leithart (ibid)
In my previous post I requested that your individualism be left at the door and what I refered to is that individualism which has established its own personal rituals in addition to, or outside of, the realm of Christian ritual. It was not a request to leave your individuality at the door, as that is what makes you a unique citizen of the kingdom. God has not yet brought us, as individuals, into His presence though we experience it vicariously through the Holy Spirit. Jesus has taken humanity, i.e. human being, into the presence of God and we have the promise of a similar glorification. Jesus didn't just bring humanity into God's presence, He brought a perfected (through Himself) humanity into God's presence. That is the reality, weight and the truth of His ascension; a truth that is known through the ritual of the written word. Learn the rituals of the gospel and live life abundantly in the one who holds and continually presents those rituals for us.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Salutations!
In this inaugural post I would like to make a singular request: leave your individualism at the door. Why? Because your autonomy is a vain deceit that blinds your ability to correctly understand Truth. I use a capital "T" here not to indicate some vague amorphous and abstract comcept of absolute truth, rather I use it to refer to being. Specifically, I use to to refer to God and particularly I use it to refer to the Second Person of the Trinity. What does this have to do with individualism and autonomy? A lot, actually. Man is created in the image of this Triune God and because God is a Trinity we can be certain that Truth, also, consists primarily within this interpersonal relationship amongst the Father, Son and Spirit. The gospel truth, which comes as a manifestation of Truth, is not a private truth; it is not a private system of dogmas, creeds and confessions like modern Christianity portrays it. It is, instead, a public interpretation of experience. The kingdom of God is this experience and the city of God is the only place understanding can be found.
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