Archive for the tag 'Religion'

Coffee with God

D August 8th, 2010

I dearly long for coffee with God.

There is this attentive blindness that we seem to have inherited from some of our religious traditions that has us convinced he is ready and willing to have conversations with us.  Being as relationally driven as I am, I’ve translated that into a certain expectation with what a ‘personal relationship’ with God is.  I want a conversational dialogue, the opportunity to discuss and understand what he was thinking, where he is coming from, and why we are swimming through this ocean of chaos.  And to my disappointment, such a conversation is not feasible, does not exist.

But still, in my mind’s eye, I see me and God, sitting across from each other in a Starbucks, discussing existence, purpose, suffering, and the eternity of the soul.  I dearly, dearly long for that conversation.  And I fear it may never come.

The danger of certainty

D March 26th, 2010

Certainty reduces anxiety; safety – real or perceived gives a sense of calm.  Many of the fears and phobias that we deal with on an ongoing basis are the direct result of uncertainty.  You may be scared of heights because you are not certain the railing can hold you.  Your fear of food poisoning causes you to wholly burn meat in a bacterial genocidal certainty.  The fear of terrorists gives public demand for machines that ‘increase’ the certainty to catch ‘them’.

A corollary axiom is ‘ignorance is bliss’, the idea that assumed certainty gives rise to perceived safety, and is on the whole a reliable saying.  Before learning of cholera one may see no reason to drink from an otherwise untainted slough.  Before examining bicycle death statistics, one may feel comfortable riding without a helmet.  Being blissfully ignorant is something many children enjoy for the duration of their childhood.

And this idea goes far beyond physical safety, into popular culture, politics, governments, economics, sexuality, cultural norms, and of course religion.  Not knowing facts or ideas outside of your worldview gives you the freedom to feel certain you are right.

Most people claiming religious insight or understanding are frequently biased by their affiliations; that is to say they will give you ‘the party line’ when it comes to theological answers.  A true expert in a particular religion would be a rarity indeed; someone possessing unbiased viewpoints that have been aggregated as the best known answers from multiple sources.  I dare say such an expert does not exist, although I hope I am wrong.

In our quest for certainty in reconciling our beliefs, and with our lack of capacity to absorb huge amounts of arguments, we surrender much of our critical thinking ability to others, deferring to them and trusting their answers implicitly.  Particularly in religious interpretation the danger of this approach is apparent, as few groups have such expansive agendas as religious organizations.  Organized religions are less interested in the truth of their texts or prophets and more interested in how their set of derived conclusions can be used to further their assumed worldview.  The irony, of course, that such world views can degrade over time becoming muddied and not in order with the original ideas.

With our desire to be certainly right strongly prescient, this cannot end well.  It is our collective arrogance that will (or has) ultimately devolve our religious affectations into something utterly unlike their original intention.

And to widen the lens, perhaps we have already derived a product utterly unlike the original, and with no other sources to rely on, have stuck to our guns to our own peril.

A friend at work balked at the news story of Scientologists landing in Haiti to help in the aftermath of the disaster.  He questioned their intentions as to landing in that nation during crisis.  Were they going to help clear some survivors with their e-meters, or were they simply there in a humanitarian capacity?  And moreover, what purpose would an organization that is – to us – so clearly setup as a a very profitable scam have to offer the nation of Haiti; who are inexorably poor.  I can think of two reasons: it is a fantastic PR opportunity, or the most alarming conclusion; they are true believers.

They are certain.  Beyond doubt.  And perhaps in a thousand years people and documents wise to the scam will be extinct.

Irrational belief in a creative God

D September 8th, 2009

I was recently asked what I thought the next phase of belief for the post-fundamentalist Christian would be.  My simplest answer being to walk away in disgust and declare themselves agnostic after witnessing the various abuses of God first hand. The more complex being to take the best parts of their experience and reconcile them with a more rational understanding of the world.

And here I am, actively choosing to not walk away, for various purposeful reasons:

  • If my perceptions are correct (and truly, that is all we have) I have experienced the influence of God, not necessarily ‘talking’ to me, but certainly directing me (only twice, and it had to do with pursuing after my wife, and having a child… no small things)
  • Christ was on to something. I can’t *prove* he was God, but I will make that leap of faith for someone who just *got it*. Again, choosing to believe in him. And yes, the bible is fallible, so the gospels might not be perfect. But the spirit of Christ is in there, and that’s what I’m following.
  • Do you remember the fundamentalist ‘tactic’ Christians could use for helping non-Christians understand the concept of God where:

    “Let’s say this whole chalk board is all knowledge possible. Now lets assume that this dot is the knowledge that you possess. Don’t you think you could have missed the knowledge of God’s existence?”

    The irony of this tactic is that the reverse is true:

    “Don’t you, Sir Christian, think you could have missed the knowledge that God doesn’t exist/doesn’t care?”

    And beyond that I realized that both are true: I just CAN’T know either way. My little febrile mind, and my limited capacity to understand all knowledge, space/time etc etc. It is beyond human grasp.

So I’ve reduced it to my experiences and a logic problem:

I’m relying on the infinite power and wisdom of God to catch my ultimate fall into the (possibility) of hell. I’m doing my best to understand something completely not understandable, and if I’m right and he exists, and he acknowledges my efforts, he may accept me. To follow the structure of that belief: he created me with the limited intelligence and capacity to understand him, so I rely on the fact that he knows I’m inherently flawed.

If I’m wrong, and somehow picked the wrong path, or God turns out to be a lot more diabolical that I hope him to be… well, its a Shakespearean tragedy at that point.

Or, it could be a gigantic cosmic joke. But that’s more Douglas Adams’ territory.

Essentially I’m a discriminating pluralist who is a Christian. There’s no way I can know with certainty that Christianity is ‘the one-truth’.  I’ve chosen to believe it because of my upbringing, personal experiences (‘Holy Spirit’ if you will) and the fact that Christ makes the most sense to me.

I irrationally believe in a God who threw this all together, and is watching us tear it apart.

Fear and Control

D August 12th, 2009

There is no end to the discussion on fear and its fabulous utility as a method to control people’s decisions and action. This post is just me brain dumping my experiences growing up ‘in the church’. As it is somewhat redundant for me to delve into the various uses of fear in control, I will attempt to compose a coherent opinion of this weaponized fear. This is all water under the bridge for me at this point, but worth me putting up my ideas to spark discussion regardless.

The new atheist movement (militant fundamentalist all-religions-must-die) has, being somewhat of an oxy-moron, illuminated the hypocrisies of my own religious past. Although I had long pulled myself from the denominational bubble, militant atheists like Dawkins finally gave me the lens with which to view the structure in which I had grown up. Using subtle phrases, an isolationist worldview was pushed on me all those years. I was ‘inside’ with the ‘one-truth’, much like the new atheists – convinced of their assertions and willing to aggressively defend them. To see such an approach being used by ‘the non-Christians’ gave me additional pause, and led me to the distinct possibility that it was unlikely I held the ‘one-truth’ – as taught by my former denominational leaders.

In the end, it was the us-vs-them attitude that introduced my doubt, and gradually demonstrated to me that really my church leaders were mouthpieces of the bible college they had attended and in turn the denominational industry it represented. If they had ideas outside that denominational box I never saw them discussed. The building of polemic arguments against the latest ‘threat’, be it a court decision, a rock band, television, dating, alcohol, homosexuality, and anything considered a remote threat was commonplace. I now think that the polemic approach was less necessary in regards of the arguments themselves, and served a better purpose of ‘uniting’ the group. We then had a common enemy that we could fight together, ignoring the sometimes shaky foundations of our theology – and certainly ignoring any sort of pragmatism or compromise that could have helped meet ‘the non-Christians’ where they were at.

There was a single overarching idea of ‘unity among the body’, which was a twisted way of saying ’stick to your denomination’. It was this imperialist mindset that gave unity its secondary meaning – the one pertaining to member retention and the guilt and fear associated with walking away from the ‘body’. I now look back astonished that I was always frustrated with our lack of ability to achieve ‘unity’ among believers, which I now attribute to the fact that they had an entirely different sort of isolationist unity in mind.

This brings me to their idea of self-control, their version of which took until much later in life for me to learn was actually repression, a repression borne through fear and negative reinforcement. I plan to write a much more detailed piece on the idea of the ‘dangers of repression as self-control’, but need to do more research into the psychology of these ideas (anyone have any pointers?).

However their biggest fear is that of ideas, and particularly ideas that challenge the denominational theology. There is no room for discussion, and no structure for conversation or debates involving derivations of the teachings. At this point, I believe that is because they were taught with certainty that they hold the ‘one-truth’, and therefore greatly fear (and have no need for) a clearinghouse of ideas. This is where the fear has become systemic, where leaders teach fear not out of some malicious intent, but because they are genuinely scared of being wrong themselves – and in order to protect themselves turn a blind eye to new ideas, interpretations and reason itself.

My emergence from fundamentalism has been refreshing and I feel more at peace with myself and God than ever. And so my persistent uncertainty dictates that I cannot run from ideas, only consume, evaluate and apply those that are sensible to my life as a human who identifies with Christ’s teachings.

Feel free to comment below…

We’re distracted by abortion

D February 19th, 2009

I most certainly believe that the act of an abortion is wrong.  I wouldn’t call myself a ‘pro-lifer’ because of the sheer volume of rhetoric that label entails – but I definitely can’t see aborting fetus’ as anything other than perverse.

With that in mind, I started to consider what our world would look like without abortion – simply as an exercise to consider what kind of social cost it has on our society.  Abortion will likely never again be illegal, possibly more regulated, but we won’t see any backtracking on this issue.  Abortion is here to stay, so we’d better learn what a Christ like response would be.

So I couple that idea with a hotly contested theory written by Steven D Levitt in his book Freakonomics:

From wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legalized_abortion_and_crime_effect)

Donohue and Levitt point to the fact that males aged 18 to 24 are most likely to commit crimes. Data indicates that crime in the United States started to decline in 1992.  Donohue and Levitt suggest that the absence of unwanted aborted children, following legalization in 1973, led to a reduction in crime 18 years later, starting in 1992 and dropping sharply in 1995. These would have been the peak crime-committing years of the unborn children.

Being an abortion linked theory, these studies will be contested for years to come.  Nevertheless the idea that people who would have been bad or neglectful parents produce misbehaving children stuck with me, and that often people deciding on an abortion are not in most productive of child rearing environments.  We don’t need an economist to tell us that if a parent is very weak on even basic discipline, or neglectful of their children, that kids tend to make bad choices and ‘misbehave’ in later life.

And sometimes, these neglected or abused kids end up in the care of our government’s social system, often at a young age.  The good people who work for the government and non-governmental agencies try to provide the best care possible in very difficult circumstances.

And then it struck me.  Who are we as Christians to look at women having abortions and say “shame on you”, when we are conveniently neglecting the children who were not aborted, but neglected?  If abortion was illegal how many of those unborn would be sitting in group homes, or foster care, without a permanent and loving family that is willing to commit to them?  How can we decry abortion when we don’t even help the kids who *are* alive, whose mothers may have made the harder choice not to terminate their life despite their circumstance?

What if every young Christ following couple who wants children included an adopted child in their family?

In my experience in mainstream protestant churches in Alberta, there are very few adoptive parents.  I can only speculate on why – insulated church culture, the “it’s not my problem” complex, fear of “the world”, stigma of being the “adoptive parents”.  But I certainly know this: Christ would have us look after orphans, regardless of our inconvenience.

What can we do about abortion?  Maybe some regulatory changes.  But until we have taken responsibility to help the thousands of kids that would be at risk if abortion was illegal, let’s get off our high-horse.

And don’t kid yourself, it is your responsibility.  Christ made that pretty clear.

Questions

Em January 6th, 2009

For my entire life I have been a Christian. When I say “entire life,” I mean that I remember becoming a Christian as well as I remember my birth. The church I attended was not one conducive to in-depth questioning (I go into more detail in Truth, Proof, and Faith), so it has only been since age seventeen that I have begun to truly question what Christianity really is, its relevance, its meaning and verifiable truth.

I’ve come to the conclusion that it all comes down to Jesus. If he did all those things in the Bible, if what is written there truly did happen, then I can’t see how I could follow any other religion. The achingly beautiful idea that God literally became man and conquered death so we can conquer ourselves is too compelling to ignore. But here we come to the crux of the matter, the two main questions that nag at me: Did it really happen like the Bible says? And if it did, why does it matter?

The first question can be solved through investigation, and has been proven and disproven to various degrees by people with various degrees to various degrees of pompous arrogance. Now, clearly if it didn’t happen it doesn’t matter, but pompous arrogance is a strong motivator and will cause some to argue endlessly about matters that decrease in importance with every argument and rebuttal. Therefore, I have no intention of discussing that today; partly out of lack of knowledge about the subject, and partly to avoid endless factual debates.*

And so on to question two: Why does Jesus matter? Why would God need to die for us to conquer death? It seems like a moot point to me. Jesus dies and comes back; an incredible, impossible feat for man, but a speck on the computer screen of an omnipotent God. Did we not know that God had power over life and death? Would a Jewish priest have argued with you if you told him so? Then we come to the idea of God dying at all. Why would God require a sacrifice in order to forgive sin? I understand that he was fulfilling his covenant with the Jewish people, but what I don’t understand is the whole system of laws set up before Jesus came. What purpose did that serve? Why would God wait a good four thousand years before sending the saviour?

But the biggest question for me is why, if Jesus is the only path to God, and God so loves the world, why he would allow five billion people to go screaming to hell. Does everyone truly get a chance to know who Jesus is and what he did? Is there a mystical reality that reveals this to everyone at some point in their life? Because if not, that seems cruel and unjust. One who has never heard of Jesus must suffer, merely because of the mistake of being born in ignorance?

There are so many more questions: the relationship of the old testament to the new, the blatant restrictions on women and gays, the balance between God’s wrath and his grace. It may not seem apparent why I would remain part of a faith of which I have so many questions, even objections. But I don’t buy the idea that I can choose my truth. The Jainists tell a parable of blind men feeling an elephant, believing that the part they feel is the true nature of the elephant. All of them have a part of the truth, but not the whole thing. If those men represent different religions and the elephant spiritual reality, I don’t want to meet the guy who’s swinging of the tusk or clinging to the tail. I want to talk to whoever is sitting there watching all the crazy blind people climb all over an elephant. Because in the end, no matter what the blind guys say, it’s a bloody elephant. If Jesus is God, I have no choice but to accept him because it negates all other claims to divinity.

*Note: I do realize that someone other than my brother would have to read this blog to begin said debate, and that that is not entirely likely.

Post-Denominational

D July 25th, 2008

I talk a lot about the “corporate” Christian church. I want to define what I mean by this term. There are several different definitions of corporate, and the one most used is in reference to a Christian gathering:

2: of, relating to, or formed into a unified body of individuals

We would use this sometimes in the context of “corporate worship” or a “corporate service” where all are gathered together.

When I say the “corporate” Christian church, I am referring more to the business hierarchy that most denominations, sects, and groups employ. Closer to this definition:

1d: having qualities (as commercialism or lack of originality) associated with large corporations or attributed to their influence or control

I suppose the first task is to demonstrate why a large corporate approach is less similar than it should be to Christ’s original vision for the church. In order put these ideas into an appropriate context, we need to consider the backgrounds of the people that compose these churches. We need to understand their cultures, and frame our analysis appropriately. So, let’s start at North American culture.

Considering the wide breadth of known human history, modern North American culture is just about to enter its terrible two’s. We have only been relevant for the last 200 years, and this is the version of North American culture I will examine.[1] We have grown from a diverse group of immigrants into a democratic society, with aggressive capitalist tendencies. Without casting any larger-worldview judgment on capitalism, it has served us very well, and created great wealth for many people in our society. This approach to government and economy has largely affected our societal worldviews, and as such we have integrated it into our major religion – Christianity.

With the capitalist approach comes a commonly accepted business structure, with the central tenet being that the leaders are there to serve the owners. In a modern public company, the leadership is beholden to the shareholders – effectively to the stock price. This creates a form of checks-and-balances between the owners, but often does not address the concerns of those outside this system. It is an inward focused approach. Free market capitalism argues that the market will dynamically adjust itself to serve all people outside of these closed systems. Of course, there are government agencies that will enforce regulation to some degree to affect how these organizations operate, and lobbyists and activists that will attempt to use public opinion to push an organization in a particular direction, but the system largely is set up to cater to corporations.

This business structure and capitalist worldview has been integrated into most major North American church denominations. There are some differences in ownership (of church assets), and management, but largely they are based on the business models gleaned from capitalism. And, like its business-world cousins, it is a largely successful system that has generated a lot of wealth for these churches. And the denominational leadership serves as an oversight committee, or perhaps a trade group that is effectively monitoring and regulating the members of its industry.

So what’s wrong with that?

It places restrictions on visionary thinking within the denominational organization, creating a bureaucracy that can limit appropriate reactions to our ever-changing culture. Ideas that were established decades ago are still prevalent, despite them being largely (and sometimes laughably) obsolete. These entrenched ideas were once culturally influenced decisions that keep denominations stagnant in their approach to doctrine and theology. As such, it discourages out of box thinking and avoids reconsideration of the currently accepted interpretations of biblical texts. In a way, the denominational ‘law’ allows a large percentage of its membership to be apathetic to further questioning of their beliefs and approaches – avoid critical thinking.

In most cases, the only way to innovate within a denomination is at a grassroots level, and generally involves the members to act somewhat outside of the established norms of the denomination. And it can (and does) happen, and creates some fantastic communities. However, these communities are the exception as opposed to the rule within denominational structures.

Christian mass-market industry? Is that what Jesus was teaching?

Ultimately, I see a system that discourages personal growth by claiming to be an authority. I’m sure there is some sort of sociological explanation for this type of human behavior, but in a word: apathy. My opinion is that Christ’s teachings were for personal use, to be applied to a persons worldview and decision making process. Not for commercial use, with groups of ‘experts’ creating regulatory constructs under which the congregational members fall.

Post-Denomination

I am advocating a post-denominational approach to Christ’s teachings. A return to personal responsibility in discovering the truth’s of Christ’s message, and being honest with those who you are in fellowship as to where you are in your journey to emulate Christ. A climate that does not incite fear as a result of going against the status quo, but rather encourages theological and doctrinal discourse. And beyond that – tolerates differing viewpoints while maintaining critical thinking skills to protect the body at large. We need to teach ourselves to think, and to follow Christ – not the teachings of denominations and their leaders.

I see this post-denominational culture as having “service organizations” that provide liaison services between the government and the church for charity purposes. They will also provide financial service to small groups of churches that want to pool their resources to tackle larger projects, in their cities and elsewhere – to affect real change. And the service organizations will use a wider lens to include many Christ-following churches with different disciplines, encouraging unity between what used to be a very segregated group of churches. They will arbitrate the more complex disputes, and provide oversight to the resolution process. And finally, they will facilitate accountability between the leaders of the churches (not accountability with the organization itself), forcing them to constantly re-evaluate their ideas and practices before teaching them to their congregations.

One foreseeable objection is that pastors may still teach heretical or inaccurate messages to their congregations, and to that I say this: it shouldn’t matter. If the members of these churches are autonomous in their thinking, comparing, and discernment, they will be able to hold the pastor to account or at least hold a public discourse that brings everybody to a shared understanding of opinions.

We like to look at ‘mainline’ denominations, in all their varying degrees of doctrines and theology, and generally accept that this corporate business model is “the best way to do things”. I am beginning to question (and hopefully eventually challenge) that idea. And of course, as would be appropriate to some of the ideas presented above, I welcome constructive criticism – which I will analyze earnestly, and perhaps integrate into my understanding of Christ’s church and how that looks in our culture.


1. [As an aside, I am aware there is a rich Aboriginal culture that dominated the North American continent prior to colonization, however it has been largely washed away over the last 200 years. Such cultural extermination is a huge subject that is entirely out of the scope of this essay.]
2. The primary reason democratic capitalism works so well is that it forces us to leverage our greed against each other prevent any one person from becoming the dictator. This turns our human nature from resolving things with violence to resolving things with money. Of course, the gap between rich an poor will likely continue to grow in this system, as greed is essentially a bad thing. But now I’m rambling..