Bible | Questioning the Answers

The Voice of God

February 21, 2016 By admin Leave a Comment

2729938953_d539899585_b — Photo credit: High Park (license)

Since last fall, I’ve been volunteering in a theology class at a local university. As one of several people facilitating small groups for the class of about 70 freshmen, I was asked this past week to share something that struck me from the current text we’re reading, a book called Dangerous Wonder by Michael Yaconelli.

There were several things from the first few chapters that resonated, from the idea of Jesus being a rule breaker to a whole discussion about the necessity of having a faith that dares to ask questions. For sure, the idea that our questions can make others uncomfortable to the point of silencing the one asking the questions hits very close to home.

But what struck me the most was actually in the introduction, where the author says “There is, deep within all of us, a voice. It speaks to us continuously, knocking on the door of our consciousness. When we are children, the voice is very loud, shattering our awareness with overwhelming clarity… It shouts to us with a whisper… This voice of our childhood is the voice of wonder and amazement, the voice of God…”

It’s a beautiful idea; one that I believe is powerfully true.

He continues, “One sad day, we are aware of an absence. We can no longer hear the God-voice, and we are left with only silence – not a quiet silence but a roaring silence. We did not want to stop hearing God’s voice. Indeed, God kept on speaking. But our lives became louder. The increasing crescendo of our possessions, the ear-piercing noise of busyness, and the soul-smothering volume of our endless activity drowned out the still, small voice of God.”

So we go from living in a space of beautiful and mysterious clarity to an unfortunate pseudo-reality, reeling in a sea of deafening noise and being drowned by life itself.

And finally, “Most of us cannot say when it happened, we only know that it happened. When we became aware of the absence of God’s voice, there were a thousand deaths within us.”

A thousand deaths within us.

A haunting statement. It lingered with me.

As I pondered the notion of God’s voice being drowned out, I realized that for most of my life, it wasn’t busyness, possessions, the noise of life, or endless activity that were my problems, even though I’ve been steamrolled by those things at various times.

For me, religion had drowned out the still, small voice of God.

I didn’t realize it when it was happening, of course, but I can look back and see that I allowed doctrine, dogma, revered or respected spiritual leaders, and even scripture to drown out the voice of God in my life.

The idea of scripture taking precedence over the voice of God in one’s life can be a tricky thing in evangelical America, where the Bible isn’t merely affirmed as critical, but is often revered as the ultimate authority.

For example, a few years ago, I was sitting in church and the pastor was talking about the need for us to be more in touch with the Spirit, but he promptly insisted that the Spirit will never lead us to do something that isn’t “biblical.”

He then urged the importance of relying on the counsel of others to decipher whether the voice of God that we’re hearing is actually the voice of God.

On the surface, that might sound reasonable. I actually adhered to such logic for years, but it’s problematic.

And this kind of thinking has the potential to lead to a thousand deaths within us.

I suspect the reason we can be leery of the voice of God – particularly when others are hearing it – is because we want control. We want to uphold the status quo. We want things to be simple and tidy and to fit into our understanding of what’s true and right and acceptable.

But God doesn’t work that way. If anything is biblical, that is.

Seriously. If we learn anything from the Bible, it should be that the Bible was never meant to be the thing.

Five times in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus starts a teaching with “You have heard that it was said…” In other words, “You have heard that it was biblical…”

And then he goes on to explain how the people had missed the mark and it was time for them to move to a new place of understanding.

Huh? But how can the divinely authoritative Word of God miss the mark?

I love the story in Acts 10 when Peter falls into a trance and has a vision about animals that are impure and unclean. A voice tells Peter to kill and eat, but Peter – being the good, devout Jew that he is – responds with righteous indignation, “Surely not, Lord!”

Peter was responding the way his religion had used scripture to say he should respond. How God expected him to respond.

In modern Christian terms, we could say that he responded biblically to something that was unbiblical. Good for him. Peter/God: one. Satan: zero.

But the story doesn’t end with Peter’s righteous indignation. It ends with a transformation of Peter’s thinking and understanding.

It’s a fantastic representation of our desire to cling to what’s familiar – all the while using the Bible to insist we’re doing what God expects – even though we’re clearly being called to let go of an old way of thinking and move in a new direction.

If anything represents the falsity of the notion that God won’t ever lead us in a direction that’s not “biblical,” it’s the Bible itself.

I encouraged the class of impressionable and good-hearted prospective leaders to always listen for the voice of God and to take great care not to let it get drowned out by anything around them… especially religion.

As I write this, I’m reminded of one of my favorite quotes, which is attributed to thirteenth-century poet and Sufi mystic Rumi. “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”

Great advice, Rumi.

Great advice.

In the Boxing Ring with “One Man, One Woman”

July 4, 2015 By admin Leave a Comment

Recently, I thought it’d be good to revisit some of the foundational elements of Marriage 101, so I scoured my bookshelves and picked up Gary Smalley’s Secrets to Lasting Love, a book my wife and I bought over a decade ago but never actually read.

I found myself squirming a bit as I read about the tendency for spouses to get laser focused on proving they’re right and the other person is wrong during times of conflict. The author talks about the crucial need to validate where the other person is coming from, regardless of whether or not you agree with the person’s opinion, point of view, or understanding of truth in a given situation.

As I was reflecting, I realized that when I’m bent on proving to my wife that I’m right – which I’m not proud to say has happened countless times over the years – it’s generally because I’m coming from a place of fear. Fear that my needs won’t be met or that things won’t work out well or that my heart will somehow be trampled on.

I usually present a very logical case without a lot of overt emotion, so in the moment I may not realize or acknowledge that it’s a fear-based, self-preservation mode that’s driving my course of action. One that ultimately doesn’t trust that things will be just fine. And one that tramples intimacy.

photo credit: MarriageEquality (81 of 109) (license)

I find it ironic that I’ve been reading this book and doing this self-reflection in tandem with the Supreme Court’s ruling on gay marriage. The intensity of the responses coming from many within the conservative, evangelical Christian groups reminds me of how I can sometimes respond to conflict in my marriage.

I buckle down. I won’t give in. I don’t want to give any weight to my wife’s point of view. I’m set on making my point crystal clear and showing her why I’m right and, by implication, why she’s wrong.

In the last several days, I’ve read the heated responses of countless people insisting that Adam and Eve show us that God’s plan for marriage from the beginning of all time has been “one man, one woman.” And, therefore, the Supreme Court’s ruling is a clear affront to God.

Now that can definitely seem valid and rational. But just as my wife often has an alternate view to my logical, well-thought-out one, there are other viewpoints within the greater Christian community. And it might be good to actually consider them.

For example, one reason I disagree with using scripture to prop up the “one man, one woman” notion is because it means avoiding a host of laws in the Old Testament that govern polygamy. Yes, we can engage in the fancy footwork to dance around those passages and come up with eloquently presented explanations as to why the laws don’t really mean that God was okay with polygamy.

But even if we do that, we’re still left to explain away the story of David and Bathsheba, where scripture tells us that God took a group of wives from David’s master and gave them to David, presumably as a blessing to David for being God’s anointed. And when David botches up, God says “I will take your wives and give them to one who is close to you, and he will sleep with your wives in broad daylight.”

photo credit: Opponents to the same sex marriage vote in the Minnesota Senate (license)

In my opinion, the portrayal in scripture of God shuffling wives from one man to another – more than once – simply doesn’t leave room for a timeless expectation of “one man, one woman” established by God at the dawn of creation (unless we’re willing to acknowledge that God is clearly content to indulge wayward behavior). What it does leave room for is placing the scriptures in the context and culture that they were written in – a context and a culture where polygamy was normal and acceptable.

To be sure, everyone has the right to their own opinion on the topic of gay marriage. But it’s problematic when we insist that God has the same opinion. We never think of it in those terms, of course. We’re coming at it having been told or taught that “God believes X” and we have scripture in mind that seemingly supports it, so we think we’re merely standing on the side of truth.

It’s rather like when I’m in a conflict with my wife and the fearful need to cling to my truth keeps me from attempting to bridge the distance between us.

Now I’m sure there are plenty of people eager to rip me a new one by pointing to Romans 1 or 1 Corinthians 6 to show me why I’m clearly wrong and they’re clearly right. They’ve got their figurative boxing gloves on and they’re ready to duke it out – no matter how many black eyes, split lips, or near concussions are involved. Just like my tendency can be with my wife in times of conflict.

But again – there’s another side.

It may seem absolutely inconceivable that other viewpoints could possibly have merit when things seem so “clear,” but there are reasons that massive numbers of people within Christian communities are shifting their stance on the LGBT issue. And trust me, they’re not doing it to be part of the “in crowd” or merely to cave to society’s whims, contrary to the accusations of many other Christians.

They’re doing it thoughtfully, responsibly, faithfully. And, in many cases, after much struggle. But they had to remove their boxing gloves and be willing to listen to and consider another viewpoint. And to consider one very uncomfortable and potentially scary possibility: that maybe “being right” isn’t the goal.

I realize this a complex, heated topic and it raises tons of “Well then what about X, Y, or Z?” questions for many Christians. But I don’t think digging our heels in is the answer.

In the book I’ve been reading, Gary Smalley implores readers to trust that intimacy will be achieved when two spouses validate each other’s opinions and feelings in spite of being in disagreement. It reminds me of something I heard a minister say many years ago: we can’t let our desire to be right get in our way of being close. Yet we do it all the time: individually and corporately. And there are casualties because of it.

Scripture tells us that there is no fear in love and that perfect love casts out fear. Scripture tells us that love is greater than faith and hope.

photo credit: MarriageEquality (41 of 109) (license)

Scripture tells us that Jesus said the two most important things are to love God and love your neighbor as yourself and that all the Law and the prophets hang on those two things. All the Law. All the prophets. All. Fulfilled with love.

Now, with that in mind, consider this:

God didn’t need people to use scripture centuries ago to “prove” the earth was the center of a three-tiered universe to silence the uncomfortable claims and evidence to the contrary. But people did.

God didn’t need people to use scripture in recent history to “prove” that slavery was acceptable and that black people were second-class humans in the face of movements to the contrary. But people did.

And God doesn’t need people to use scripture now to “prove” that the Supreme Court’s ruling is an affront to God because “one man, one woman” is God’s timeless expectation. Or to “prove” that those who don’t oppose gay marriage are subject to God’s judgment on the matter.

Just as I hope to get better at putting away the boxing gloves in my marriage, my hope is that Christian communities can put down their boxing gloves and humbly consider our history, move away from places of fear, and let go of the insistence on being right.

In doing so, maybe we’ll start to realize that the scandal and danger of the gospel is that love really does win.

Sin in the Presence of a Holy God

March 30, 2015 By admin Leave a Comment

There’s a fun little anecdote that most of us are probably familiar with about a frog in a pot of water. The water is warming up to a deadly boil, but at such a slow pace that the frog doesn’t have any idea, so it just floats around happily until it ultimately boils to death. But, as the story goes, if the frog had jumped into the boiling water from outside, the temperature difference would’ve been so stark that the frog would’ve promptly jumped out to safety.

Last week, I was making my way through a book that had been recommended to me and at one point the author talked briefly about Jesus dying on the cross to deal with the sin that separates us from God. This got me reflecting on another thing I’d read recently about sin and the wrath of God. Which made me reflect on yet something else I’d happened across recently that said sin cannot be in the presence of a holy God.

These things then got me thinking about the pained, desperate words of Jesus when he cried out from the cross “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” As the story goes where I come from, this gripping, dramatic cry reflects the pivotal moment where God had to turn his back as Jesus took on the sin of the world, leaving Jesus to experience separation from God for the first time ever. And why did he experience this separation?

Because sin cannot be in the presence of a holy God.

We hear and repeat this idea frequently within Christian communities. It’s the reason that Adam and Eve were booted from paradise. It’s the reason the priests had to go through painstaking preparations before entering the temple. And it’s ultimately why Jesus was abandoned on the cross.

Because sin cannot be in the presence of a holy God.

As I was recently thinking about all of this, I was reminded of a sermon I once heard where the preacher discussed white blood cells and red blood cells to illustrate how God responds to sin: he annihilates it.

Because sin cannot be in the presence of a holy God.

These ideas are so pervasive within Christianity that most people don’t seem to think twice about them, at least in my experience.

Yet there’s a problem with this kind of theology. It’s a problem that either we don’t feel comfortable discussing or that simply eludes us.

And it’s a problem that can be summed up with one word.

Jesus.

The one who put his fingers in the ears and touched the tongue of a deaf and mute man. The one who touched the eyes of a blind man. The one who reached out and touched a man with leprosy… and who let a sinful woman anoint and kiss his feet… and who took hold of a man with dropsy … and who invited himself into the house of the chief tax collector… and who let one of the disciples rest against his chest during the Last Supper.

Jesus.

The one who didn’t avoid adulterers, pull back from prostitutes, or turn away from tax collectors. The one who didn’t shudder around sin.

Jesus reached out to and engaged and touched others. And he allowed others to reach out to, engage, and touch him. And he did this to help heal people from whatever kind of disease that plagued them, be it physical, emotional, or spiritual – though I would venture to say that Jesus saw it all as spiritual.

He did these things to validate people and show them their inherent worth. In a sense, to say “You are deeply and truly valued in spite of what your religion has taught you.” Or in some cases “…in spite of what their religion has taught you.”

Jesus made it clear that God can most certainly be in the presence of sin. So to hold onto theology that tells us otherwise is problematic, no matter how it’s packaged.

It’s curious that these two opposing ideas have somehow managed to live next to each other in this thing we call Christianity. I guess when we’re used to living in the middle of a story, the obvious may escape us. We’re like the frog in the pot of water that’s slowly getting warmer and warmer. We don’t notice what’s going on. We get acclimated to the environment around us. It feels comfortable and familiar. There’s no sense that something might be wrong.

As I sat through the sermon with the illustration of the red blood cells and the white blood cells, even though I found it deeply troubling, I didn’t consider in that moment how it completely conflicts with the idea of God intimately dwelling among us in the flesh.

Photo credit: Image from page 281 of "The pictorial Bible and commentator: presenting the great truths of God's word in the most simple, pleasing, affectionate, and instructive manner" (1878) (license) — Photo credit: Image from page 281 of “The pictorial Bible and commentator: presenting the great truths of God’s word in the most simple, pleasing, affectionate, and instructive manner” (1878) (license)

So even though we’ve got stories in the Old Testament like a man getting struck dead because he touched the Ark of the Covenant where God was said to reside, we need to stop using them to bolster up the notion that God is somehow untouchable by the general populous and that God can’t be in the presence of sin. Because, in case we’ve forgotten, we’ve also got an incredible story in the New Testament of a bleeding woman who had been suffering for 12 long years and who was healed because she approached Jesus and touched his cloak.

Sin can’t be in the presence of a holy God? On the surface, it may seem like a legitimate conclusion, but it can’t be reconciled with what we see in Jesus. Something else is going on with these stories and we need to take the time to consider it, even though it may fly in the face of what we’ve always heard.

The bleeding woman in the gospels who “touched God” was healed, commended, and sent on her way with the encouraging and compassionate words “Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”

In all seriousness, perhaps the “timeless truth” from this gospel story – the one that gets masked from a surface, literal reading – is that the suffering we all need to be freed from is theology that tells us that God is untouchable and that sin can’t be in the presence of a holy God.