Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb...

You have to be careful with the word community. In many ways it falls prey to the over-clarification we discussed in the "label posts" a couple of weeks ago. What does one mean by community? When we talk about community that is specific to the Church or community that is specific to the way of Jesus, there are some definitions of community we must abandon. We are not talking about a neighborhood as in “This is a great community with a low crime rate." We are not referring to a distinct segment of the population as in the “gay community” or the “Asian community.” We are not even referring to a group of people with similar interests like “the scientific community,” the “art community,” or the “racquetball community.” Community in the way of Jesus is not a social club such as a country club or fraternity that offers benefits to its “members.” Rather, I am advocating a community of sharing, participation, and fellowship. I love the image of the Body the Apostle Paul uses so often in his letters (Romans 12:4-5, 1 Corinthians 10:17 and 12:12-27, Ephesians 4:1-25, Colossians 1:18 and 3:15). The body functions because of the intricate workings of each part. The sinuses, the toes, the bowels, the eyes, the ribs, the spleen, the knees, the shoulders, the veins, the fingernails, the heels. All do what they are supposed to do, and the body thrives. Take out a lung, throw it in a bucket, and the lung becomes useless - a mass of rotting tissue. Take out the stomach, throw it in a bucket, and the body has some serious problems. The body exists for its members; the members for the body. It is an interdependent relationship. Some parts of the body (like the liver) are quiet and unassuming. They don't say a whole lot. Some parts (like the brain) give direction and speak out quite a bit. Some parts (like the kidneys) quietly cleanse the body. And some parts (like the heart) give the life blood to the rest of the body. Each plays its own part. Even blogs become bodies (or communities) in this sense. There is me. I write the posts and get the conversation started. There are the folks like Shantell, Puck, Word 80, Doc, Bonnie, and edubbs who eagerly comment, pumping the life blood of the body and keeping the conversation moving. There are the folks (many of them named above) who post disagreements and often cleanse the impurities from the conversation. There are the ladies in SC who read frequently but never comment, contributing in unassuming ways. And there are other folks like TJ, Tony, and leoskeo who chime in on occassion; you don't really know they are there until they "speak up."

The body is also powerful. It keeps the individual members from moving in an unwanted or wrong direction. If the knee wants to go swimming, but the calf muscles refuse to lift the heels off the pavement and the shoulders and arms refuse to create the momentum, there is no way that body is jumping into a swimming pool. If the head would really like to run a 5K but the legs, heart, lungs, and sweat glands aren't conditioned for it, the body just won't reach the 5K mark. (In this regard, the Hear the Yawp community spoke loudly through her silence last week on the "Inerrancy" post! We will not go there again.)

Whether you read and applaud on your own, read and comment regularly, read and quietly become irritated, read and comment irregularly, read and become motivated to start other conversations, or read and bash me with your friends, you are welcome here...as long as you read. If you aren't reading... What am I saying? I can't address someone who is not reading!

The point is, community shapes us. By reading this, you are being shaped in some way. By commenting, you are shaping me and all who read. This is community.

Ridiculous Excrement

There are things that, in some circles, you just don't talk about. When I am with my mother-in-law, I don'’t talk about animals that have been hurt. When I am with my wife's grandfather, I don't talk about America's faults or how wrong war is. When I am with my father, I don't talk about racism. When I am with my wife, I don't talk about snakes. And when I am with most of the religious world, I don't talk about the doctrine of inerrancy. It's one of those things that everyone has an opinion on, but most aren't sure what the doctrine actually means. Inerrancy is one of those elephants in the room that everyone knows is there but no one wants to talk about. It's potentially volatile, but if we can just keep from talking about it, maybe it will go away. We at least won't have to become divided over it. Let'’s not talk about error, scribal inaccuracies, or historical contextualization. The Bible is good; leave it at that.

Or not. Let's jump in.

It seems to me that the whole battle over inerrancy is irrelevant to the Kingdom of God. The emphasis we have put on inerrancy and the raging war associated with it is like getting all worked up over Y2K. It just doesn'’t matter! Count it down - :05, :04, :03, :02, :01, Happy New Millennium! Look around. We're all still here. The power grid is still on-line. Bank accounts are in tact. And 10,000 children across the globe are still starving to death tonight.

The religious world has scrambled to try to assert their opinions on the battle of inerrancy. One side trying to change the other's mind and vice versa. Some are caught in the middle and are trying to figure out what side to join. Some are trying to ride the fence and play both sides; and some are just trying to stay out of it. But what if it's all in vain? What if, at the end of the day, after the "other side" wins, everything still goes on? What if the win or loss of the doctrine of inerrancy ends with no cataclysmic events whatsoever? What if, after the smoke, scholarship, blood, and original manuscripts clear, we are all still trying to make sense of the mysterious message of Jesus? And God's relentless pursuit of humanity? And what our role as the church really is? I think we will. I think the battle of inerrancy is an enormous snare that sidetracks the real Missio Dei.

I am reminded of this great scene in Dead Poets Society. Robin Williams plays a poetry-loving, marrow-out-of-life-sucking, English teacher named John Keating in an Ivy League Preparatory School. As a student reads aloud from the preface of his poetry textbook by J. Evans Pritchard, Keating begins to chart Pritchard's assertions on the blackboard: a vertical line graphs the poem's importance, and an horizontal line graphs its perfection. Shading in the charted area will determine a poem's greatness. As all of the students scramble to copy Keating'’s graph in their notebooks, he turns to them and says:

"Excrement. That's what I think of J. Evans Pritchard. Now I want you to rip out that page."

After the boys in the class finally begin tearing, he continues: "Be gone J. Evans Prichard... This is a battle, a war, and casualties could be your hearts and souls. Armies of academicians going on measuring poetry... No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race; and the human race is filled with passion. Poetry, beauty, romance, love, those are what we stay alive for."

In the same way that J. Evans Pritchard and his "Understanding Poetry" essay confine the true greatness of poetry by asserting some rediculous measuring device over it, the doctrine of inerrancy asserts some rediculous assumptions about the Bible. The doctrine of inerrancy sujects the Bible to a human measuring stick - a post-Enlightenment ethic of factual truth based on reason and emperical data. Inerrantists claim that the Bible is true without any mixture of error. The other camp (I guess we could call them "Errantists") claim that errors, though undeniably present, do not nullify the "truth" of scripture.

(I must stop here and state that the above descriptions, to people who are in the heat of the inerrancy battle, are a grave over-simplification. I do not refute that; in fact, I agree. And if you are in the heat of that battle, are reading this, and are offended by my over-simplification of your position, I apologize. I make no claim to be a professional theologian. But I am also not in that battle and have no plans of entering it. My desire here is to raise questions of a different sort.)

Now back to the issue, Dead Poets Society, J. Evans Pritchard, and rediculous graphing and assumptions. The battle of the doctrine of inerrancy has resulted in three unfortunate things:

1) The Bible has been reduced to a book of facts and propositions. The living Word, when funneled through the doctrine of inerrancy, dies a sad death. Facts are not free to speak into the lives of God's people. They are true, or they are false. Facts are, at best, two-dimensional; the living Word is, at least, four-dimensional. Facts are black-and-white; the living Word is psychedelic. The living Word is organic, evolving, speaking to the needs of individuals and communities...calling us into the great Missio Dei. In the words of Doug Pagitt, the living Word does not provide application; it creates implication. When the Israelites were fighting, the Bible says that the "sun stood still" so that the day would linger and the Israelites would have opportunity to win the battle. Here's the thing: the sun doesn't move. We all know that from seventh grade science. The author of the passage didn't take seventh grade science. It was a pre-Copernican writing. They believed the sun revolved around the earth. The day was made longer by keeping the sun at a stand-still. So the debate/war continues: Did the sun really stand still? Or did the earth stand still? Does the scientific inaccuracy nullify the truth of the Bible? Hmm... Honestly, I don't care. The "greatness" of the Bible doesn't depend on how factual it is, Mr. Pritchard. The greatness of the Bible rests in the Logos, the timeless message of God. It is timeless because it is "living." It is timeless because it transcends fact. It transcends proposition. True, the Bible contains propositional truth, but it also contains narrative, parable, poetry, apocalyptic literature, and letters. It is alive, and it transcends any kind of human assumptions we can place upon it.

2) The Bible becomes a "special book." Errantists make statements like, "The Bible is not the Word of God; Jesus is the Word of God." They look at the Bible as a special book that contains the message of God. They claim that message is true. There may be factual errors in the details; Jonah's fish may be mythical; but the message is true. The Red Sea may have been the Sea of Reeds, but the message is true. The earth may have been created in an allegorical six days, but the message is true. The sun may not have, in fact, stopped, but the message is true. The demon-possessions Jesus encountered may have been epilepsy, but the message is true. You get the point. But here's the thing: there is still the human-ized measuring stick: true or false. The only thing that has changed is what is being measured.

3) The Bible has become the devinized appendix to the Trinity. The inerrancy battle, where one is an errantist or an inerrantist, is guilty of committing idolatry on the altar of "truth." Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Holy Bible. "Holy, Holy, Holy...God in four persons, blessed Trinity...plus one more." We have spent so much time making the Bible "right" that we have either elevated the Bible itself or bridled the work of God. Either way we are guilty. Blasphemy or Idolatry. Doesn't matter. By asserting post-Enlightenment, westernized ideal of factual, propositional, proven truth, we have crowned the scriptures as a god in herself. Doug Pagitt and his church Solomon's Porch refer to the Bible as a "living, authoritative member of [their] community." It is alive. It interacts with them. It sits on no lofty throne. She speaks to our sitz im leben out of her own sitz im leben.

So when we get down to it, why would we want a book that is merely factually correct and loftily perfect (inerrancy)...
Or why would we want to have a special book whose message is merely "true" (errancy)...

...when we can interact with what it is: alive, implicating, and true?

Once again, the Church is giving answers to the wrong questions. The answers are thought out well, and a great deal of scholarship (even good scholarship) has gone into constructing the answers. But the answers are only good if they address questions people are actually asking. Otherwise, the answers are irrelevant. And that brings us back full circle: The battle of inerrancy is irrelevant to the Kingdom of God. With all the rediculous talk of different kinds of truth (absolute, real, full, undeniable, moral, etc.), the Church has felt the need to defend the Bible based on what I refered to above as "Post-Enlightenment, Westernized, proven-by-empirical data" truth. We have assumed that a "modern" determinant of truth was the same as a "post-modern" determinant of truth. It's just not the case.

The Bible, when we let is listen and speak as it is - without holding it to this human measuring stick - remains as it is: in community, in relationship with the people of God. It's not that it speaks for itself. Rather, it speaks for God. It speaks for us. It speaks for you. But then again, it speaks to God; it speaks to us; and it speaks to you. And yet, as part of the community, it listens to God; it listens to us; it listens to you. It is mysterious. It is alive.

Still Obsessed

I was sitting at lunch yesterday enjoying the best Chicago-style pizza in town with this guy. We were talking about labels. The usual stuff - conservative, liberal, Baptist, Methodist, whatever. He said that he didn't like the labels either and said, "I like to just tell people 'I'm a Christian'." I sat back in the booth and put my feet up. Thinking... I continued, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that one either." He gave me one of those looks that seem to say, "That's a little much, man, but I'm not going to let you know I'm thinking that it's a little much." The look is a betraying look. The tension in the mouth gives it away. And you can't hide the surprise in the eyes. I was onto him. Then came the question: "Why?"

"Because there's so much baggage that comes with the term," I said.

What is a Christian? I guess it depends on who you ask.

To someone who has grown up in Sunday school: A Christian is a person who knows Jesus as his Lord and Savior.

To an atheist: A Christian is someone who uses faith as a crutch.

To a homosexual: A Christian is someone who hates me.

To a non-believing woman: A Christian is someone who oppresses me.

Yeah, I know, I just used a bunch of labels and stereotypes, but you get the point. Different people, based on their own context, define Christians differently. Some people think being a Christian is about rules. Some people think being a Christian is about going to a worship service on Sunday mornings, or reading a Bible, or praying before meals. Some people think being a Christian is about repeating a "sinner's prayer." Some people think being a Christian is about what you are against. Some people think being a Christian is about being an American. Some people think being a Christian is about converting the world to Christianity. Some people think being a Christian is a private thing. Some people think being a Christian is about giving money to a church. Some people think being a Christian is about a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. And some people think being a Christian is something I can't even begin to presume.

"I am a Christian." It could be interpreted so many ways. "I am a Christian." Many of those interpretations would not describe me at all. Why would I want to lead others to believe something nonsensical about me?

Last week I asked a gal in our church if she resonated with mysticism. She had a great answer: "I don't know; what is a mystic?"

Months ago I was talking with a spiritual guide in a metaphysical bookstore (whatever that is) about some classes. She told me about a Mother Mary Christ Consciousness class. She said the only requirement was that I had to believe I could create my own reality. Then she asked me how I felt about that. My answer: "I don't know how I feel about it; I don't know anything about it, and I'd hate to make an uneducated judgment."

My mom once asked me if I had become a liberal in college. "I don't know, Mom. I guess it depends on your definition of liberal."

Is the gal in our church a mystic? Don't know. I guess it depends on your definition of mystic.

Am I a Christian? I don't know. I guess it depends on your definition of Christian.

Label Obsession

Labels can be important. My brother-in-law is a Chevy man. He wouldn't dare buy a Ford truck. Some of the girls in my church will only buy certain jeans - Seven for All Mankind, Paper Denim, True Religion. They claim they can't wear Gap, Old Navy, or Levis. There are folks who will only drink Starbucks; there are some who refuse Satrbucks. I grew up only liking Campbell's pork-n-beans, but my wife has converted me to Bush's. From cars, orange juice, and footballs to handguns, beer, and carburators, we like our labels.

And then there are styles: We have punks and preps, goths and guidos. Emo. Geek. Hippie. Gangsta. Cowboy.

And then there are Christians: Conservative. Liberal. Evangelical. Mainline. Orthodox. Calvinist. Pro-life. Pro-choice. Pre-millenial. Post-millenial. Pan-millenial (it all pans out in the end).

And then there are denominations: Methodist, United Methodist, African Methodist Episcopal, Episcopal, Evegelical Free, Evangelical Covenant, Presbyterian Church-USA, Presbyterian Church of America, Pentecostal, Pentecostal Holiness, Church of God, United Church of Christ, Assemblies of God, Southern Baptist, American Baptist, Independent Baptist, Missionary Baptist, Free Will Baptist, Non-denominational, Mennonite, Brethren, Lutheran, Wesleyan, and the list goes on and on.

And as if the denominations were not enough, we have now created more labels for our churches: Purpose-Driven, Willow Creek Association, and now, the really hot one...Emergent.

I, for one, am tired of the labels. It seems to me that the labels do two primary things: 1) They show everyone how we misalign ourselves, or 2) They try to announce that we are somehow better than everyone else. I was sitting with a group of pastors doing what pastors do best - talking about churches. We started talking about a guy that had started a network of churches in tattoo shops.

"What kind of church is that?" one of the pastors asked.

"It was a postmo...an emer..." He turned to me and continued, "What would you call it, Jonathan?"

"I'd call it a church."

I can remember being part of groups that longed to be in a "purpose-driven church." I can remember talking about my church as an "emergent church." But now it all seems so...well...stupid. What is an emerging church? It depends on who you ask. Ask Tony Jones and you'll hear about a theological conversation. Ask John O'Keefe and you'll get a nice rule of pinky. Ask D.A. Carson and you'll hear it's insensible. Ask some megachurch pastors and you'll hear it's about the lighting, candles, and music.

For me, the label became pointless when I realized how many people were trying to fit into the packaging of the label. Rob Bell's book "Velvet Elvis" hit the shelves and sold faster than paparazzi photos of Paris Hilton. These coorporate church pastors are reading the book. And they are getting their churches to read the book too. Rob's church is considered by folks to be an emerging church. Rob's church is huge. These pastors want huge churches. They want to tap the younger crowd and do the cool thing. Rob can show the way. Rick Bell. Rob Hybels. The purpose-driven velvet Elvis going fishing in the Willow Creek! I recently talked to a pastor who told me about a new worship service they were starting. He said that it was going to be "darker and use a more Emergent kind of music, like Chris Tomlin or David Crowder." A few months back I was talking with a group of church-planters who identified their churches as "emergent." Most were trying to fit the Bush label on the Campbell's can. The "Emergent" label, after all, is cooler. Forget the theological deconstruction/reconstruction/conversation. Let's kill the lights so we can be labeled "emergent."

I suppose if I wanted to, I could call myself "green." I hike. I enjoy being among creation. I recycle. I eat hormone-free meats, and I occassionaly buy some organic snacks. Sure, I am green. I am green-er than many other folks who don't recycle, stay indoors all the time, and only eat precessed foods. But then again, I'm not as green as many others who march for environmental causes, grow their own organic crops, and always choose paper instead of plastic. Then there are even the folks who will not wash their cars because of the run-off and the folks who choose neither plastic nor paper - they bring their own. I state all of this only to show one thing: most anyone can claim the label if they want to.

The reality is that most folks would consider my church to be "emergent." We are certainly part of the theological conversation Tony talks about. We fit every descriptor in John's "rule of pinky." (Rule of thumb, he says, is too modern!) And I'm sure D.A. would say we are, at times, insinsible. But still, I'm just not sure I am comfortable with the "emergent" label. After all, what does it mean? When a label fails to say anything, what good is a label in the first place. And when the label does say something that is, for all intensive purposes, an elitist assertion (i.e. "We are more progressive than you." "We exegete culture better than you." We have grappled with our theology more than you." "We are closer to the real church than you are." "We are more authentic than you are." "We know more of what it means to live in community than you do."), what good is it to the Kingdom of God?

God is not pleased with the deviciveness of the Church. God is not pleased with our misaligning labels whether they are old ones (conservative, liberal, contemporary, traditional) or our new ones (purpose-driven, Willow-back, or Emergent). Why can't we just leave all the labels behind? Why can't we just be the church? Why can't we just love Jesus and love people?

And why can't we all just love Macs more than PC's?