Love who? Beyond what??

A number of questions have been sent in lately regarding the topic of being “loved beyond our wildest imagination” and its implications.  Some have wondered where that phrase comes from, which is not only part of the Phoenix Affirmations (#9) but is also repeated in the blessing given each week at Countryside Church.  Others have wondered about the implications of the phrase, particularly as it may apply to those who engage in abusive or otherwise destructive behavior toward others.  “What does this kind of love mean for the murderer, the rapist, etc.,” is one form of the question.  Or “What about Hitler – is he loved beyond his wildest imagination, too?”

I have to catch a plane to Scottsdale in a couple hours (our eldest daughter, Arianna, is graduating!), so I can only address the question of origins right now, which gets us into the notion of salvation along with it.  I’ll get to the question of implications for mean and nasty people later in the week.   Regarding the origin of “loved bey0nd our wildest imagination”:

Nearly a decade ago I was noticing that we in the more liberal/progressive end of the theological swimming pool do not talk much about salvation.  We use the word – occasionally – but we really don’t have much to say about it.  In fact, many people seem downright embarassed about the term thanks in no small part to the way it has been thrown around in circles where salvation mostly means salvation from everlasting torture in hell. Having rejected the essentially unbiblical (yet very popular) notion that God would torture people for eternity if they don’t please God in a certain way, and with it the notion that one would need to be “saved” from such a fate, liberals/progressives have largely let any notion of salvation fall by the wayside.

I found this situation unfortunate, and still do.  While hell as popularly conceived may be an unbiblical notion, salvation is certainly not.  Salvation is spoken of – and sung about – practically from cover to cover in the Bible, and has continued to be an important feature of Christian faith all the way up to the present era.  But what does salvation mean if it doesn’t mean salvation from eternal damnation?

This may seem like a purely academic issue to some, but the rubber really hits the road when we consider the implications of our concept of salvation (or lack thereof) in the real world.  For instance, if you aren’t being saved from hell, does it matter that one be a person of faith at all?  Most Christians would (hopefully) say “Yes.”  But does it matter in a way that’s significant? that makes a definitive qualitative difference in your life?  If so, how do you characterize this difference?  How does having Christian faith lead you to understandings and actions that you wouldn’t be thinking/acting on if you did not have faith in the God of Jesus?  If you can’t point to any significant difference that faith makes in your life, can you really claim that there is any compelling reason to have faith to begin with?  In fact, wouldn’t it be quite a bit more compelling to conclude that it is better not to have faith, since Christianity asks for such serious commitments from us, like tithing, and praying, and going to church, etc.?  Why would  any reasonable person do and give all these things if faith makes no discernible difference in people’s lives?

For fundamentalists, all this is talk is beside the point.  Faith saves them from hell and gets them into heaven.  What bigger difference is there than that?  And this belief is precisely why a person might be persuaded to introduce her or his neighbor to Jesus.  Ninety-nine percent of all the evangelism done by fundamentalist Christians – and they do a lot of evangelism compared to everyone else – is done precisely to “save” people from the fires of hell.  In other words, fundamentalists have a very clear notion of what salvation is, and this notion compels them not only to be people of faith themselves but to evangelize others.

Not so with liberal/progressives.  Salvation is a “squishy” term.  We’re really not sure what it means or implies, and therefore it almost goes without saying that we’re not going to try particularly hard to make new friends of Jesus. And we wonder why all the mainline denominations have decreased in members every year since the mid-sixties?!

A decade ago, I wasn’t content with this situation.  I looked out over the mainline Chrisitan landscape and saw a whole lot of folks for whom Christianity was mainly a cultural phoenomenon that simply was blessing whatever the dominant culture of the time decided was worthy of blessing.  I saw a faith whose message had essentially devolved into “Be good and don’t rock the boat too much.”  And I said to myself, “This is what Jesus died for??”  While I do not subscribe to the theology of substitutionary atonement (the concept that Jesus had to die in order to take on a punishment that God was going to give us, and thus save us from hell), I do very much believe that Jesus’ death was meaningful, and that he died for a lot more than simply for us to live a decent and orderly life.

So I determined to come up with a new definition of salvation (i.e., a statement about why the faith matters so much to me that I would, in fact, strive to introduce friends and neighbors to Jesus if they hadn’t been introduced already).  Or, short of a new definition, I simply wanted to find one that would resonate with theological ears tuned similarly to my own.  Thus, I launched into a six-week preaching series at Scottsdale Congregational Church called “Does Jesus Save?”  I had no definition of salvation going into the series, but I figured I’d have one by the end of it!  And, by gum, I actually did.  The definition has stuck with me ever since.

So what’s my definition of salvation?  Salvation is discovering that we are loved beyond our wildest imagination and determining to orient our lives according to this discovery. Period.

Please note that there are two halves to this statement.  Salvation is not simply discovering you are loved beyond what you can comprehend.  It also has to do with deciding to manifest this love in your everyday life.  Note that this second half is not “salvation by works.”  It imlies nothing about the successfulness of our attempt.  But it does acknowledge that salvation is more than just an intellectual phenomenon.  We may be “loved beyond our wildest imagination” whether we act on our discovery or not, but this discovery really can’t do any good for us until it also moves us to live and understand life differently than we did before the discovery.

Can you be angry and loving at the same time?

Here’s another question from the Waterstraat group (The second of two. I responded to the first in the last post):

Many of us seem to have personal stories of frustrations with other, more “conservative” organized religions or individual churches who, to us, seem(ed) to preach a message of fear and exclusion. Many of us fled these other churches and were initially drawn to Countryside by the simple message stamped in the walkway before the front door — “All Are Welcome.” Many of us also seem to have close friends or family members in our lives who believe deeply that their specific brand of Christianity is the “only way,” and who openly tell us that they grieve for us and pray for us hoping that we won’t be “burned in Hell forever.” We find ourselves torn. On one hand we seem to agree that just as we parent our different children in different ways, as individuals, many of us need our “Father” to parent us in different ways — some of us need to be told what to do, and some of us need more leash. We lean on C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity, and rejoice that our friends are “in the house,” and we don’t want to fight with them over which room they choose to hang out in. On the other hand, we also agree that Christians who preach a message based on fear and exclusivity to us seem to have completely missed who Jesus really was/is. We want to be angry and loving at the same time, and we’re not sure how to walk this dual path.

Your well-stated desire to be “angry and loving at the same time” is shared with a great many Christians around the country who are concerned with unloving and fear-based manifestations of Christian faith (often due to personal experience of it).  It is clear that you do not wish to manifest the same fear and hate only from a different perspective in making a response – a commendable desire!

Later in Asphalt Jesus I talk about “Good Friday” energy that has seized Christians on both sides of the theological divide.  “Good Friday” energy is the energy of anger, which essentially says, “Someone has crucified the Jesus of my understanding.  I think I know who did it.  So now let’s go get the crucifiers and crucify them!”

In the Seven Deadly Sins series we spoke of Anger being like salt.  A little salt can be a wonderful thing, helping to define and intensify the many and varied flavors of a dish.  Yet if you keep pouring salt, it can turn a great tasting dish into something that’s inedible.  If you pour still more, salt will actually turn a dish into poison.  The key with anger is: can you let go of it?  If you can, great.  If you can’t, then likely anger is poisoning you, as well as those who may be objects of your anger.

In this regard, the late William Sloan-Coffin, senior minister of Riverside Church in New York City, once helpfully observed: “True, we have to hate evil; else we’re sentimental.  But if we hate evil more than we love the good, we become damn good haters, and of those the world already has too many.  However, deep, our anger like that of Christ, must always and only measure our love.”

I think Sloan-Coffin hits the nail on the head.  And notice that he brings Jesus into his equation.  Read through any of the gospels and you find that Jesus could get angry – very angry – at those who were distorting the love of God, neighbor, and/or self.  The self-righteous were particular objects of his anger, as well as religious leaders (often one and the same people).  Jesus could call them a “brood of vipers,” and accuse them of making converts “twice the sons of hell [Gehenna = garbage dump] as you are.”

Thus, if anyone wonders whether it’s possible to criticize fellow believers – even severely – and remain faithful to the Christian Path, one need only turn to the one we claim to follow for confirmation.  Yes, there is an appropriate place for “calling out” those who, in our view, are turning the Path of Love into the Path of Fear and Hatred.  However, we need to do it like Jesus did it.  I believe there’s plenty of evidence in the gospels to suggest that Jesus’ criticisms arose out of a deep conviction regarding the value and worth of those he was criticizing.  His criticisms often have a ring to them like, “I know you’re BETTER THAN THAT!  I know you’re CAPABLE OF SO MUCH MORE!  When will you ever start using the high gifts and graces with which you’ve been entrusted rather than throwing them all away?”

In other words, Jesus engaged the self-righteous, the religious leaders, and so forth, out of deep respect for them.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered to give them the time of day.   Jesus saw clearly that the objects of his fury were loved beyond their wildest imagination and essentially was screaming, “When are you ever going to start ACTING like it?  When are you going to wake up and hear the music of God’s grace and love wafting through the air? “

When it comes down to it, what shows a person with whom you disagree more respect: criticizing them to their face, or remaining silent and letting them continue their destructive path without challenge (perhaps even criticizing them behind their backs, or writing them off as “hopeless’)?

Personally, if someone has a strong disagreement with me, I’d much prefer that person to come out and state it rather than keeping to her/himself – even if the message came with some degree of anger.  For, in “daring” to be critical, that person also honors me implicitly by (a) believing that I might actually clear my ego aside long enough to listen to what she/he has to say; (b) believing that I have the capacity to weigh this person’s argument and potentially change my ways as a result; (c) believing that I won’t be childish and lash out at the person for bruising my ego; (d) showing that the person, by conversing with me, may actually be willing to hear and respond to my point-of-view after stating hers/his.

Thus, criticism is as much a sign of interest and belief in someone as it is disagreement.  So be angry.  Just make sure to you can let go of it, in which case your anger will likely “add flavor to the dish” rather than poisoning it.  And the best way to ensure that you can let go of your anger (besides praying, which I highly recommend!), is to make sure that love for God, your neighbor, and yourself is not taking a back seat.

Heaven, Hell, and Affirmation 9

Sunday’s sermon will be kind of fun.  Much of it will center around “Ralph and the Lake of Fire” – a one-person drama (played by me) about a man you dies suddenly and enters the afterlife, only it’s not the afterlife he expected … Fire and brimstone?  It plays a role, but not the one you expect, either!

The drama is based on a sermon written years ago by Bruce Van Blair.  I have revised and dramatized it a number of times.  Each time it creates quite a buzz and there are always people who say, “Darn!  I wish I’d been there for that one …”  I hope you can join us for the fun!

Both in worship and in Asphalt Jesus groups, we’re heading into Affirmation 9 for the next couple of weeks – my favorite of them all.  Affirmation 9 reads, “Christian love of self includes: basing our lives on the faith that in Christ all things are made new and that we, and all people, are loved beyond our wildest imagination – for eternity.”

It’s an affirmation that implies quite strongly that there is no hell as popularly conceived, and that salvation is for all people, not just those who jump through some sort of doctrinal hoops.  As further background to prepare yourself for worship or small groups, you will probably find it helpful to take a look at a brief reflection that was written years ago by my pastoral mentor, Bruce Van Blair called “Universal Salvation.”  Read it by clicking the link at the end of this paragraph, then post your comments and questions!

Universal_Salvation

If I Were the Devil …

My first draft of Chapter 3 in Asphalt Jesus contained an excursus that was deemed by the editor to be too controversial to print.  It was a reflection on how I  would destroy God’s world if I were the devil and was inserted into my larger discussion of Affirmation 9 (“Christian love of self includes: Basing our lives on the faith that in Christ all things are made new and that we, and all people, are loved beyond our wildest imagination – for eternity.”).  Ultimately, I think the editor showed wisdom in asking me to remove the excursus.  However, for a smaller, more defined audience like readers of the Asphalt Jesus blog, I think it’s worth bringing out.  If it rattles your cage, post a comment!  I’m not asking you to agree with it.  I just think it could provoke some interesting discussion, both here on the blog and in the small groups.

Here is the deleted excursus:

One day shortly after the radio interview with Bob Dutko in which some of his audience claimed I am everything short of the anti-Christ, I pondered as walked, “What if I really was seeking to eliminate every trace of the true path of Jesus from the face of the earth, how would I do it?”
I considered many possibilities.  I could wage a war on Christians, for instance.  Upon further reflection, though, I realized that persecution has historically made Christianity stronger, not weaker.  In Roman times, hundreds if not thousands of new Christians would rise up in place of every Christian fed to the lions or burned at the stake.

“No, if anything, I’d want to make life easier for Christians.  I’d want them to be persuaded that no threat exists whatsoever to the future of their faith.  I’d convince them that rampant consumerism is not a threat, launching preemptive wars is not a threat, nor is merging the religion with government, nor workaholism, nor is lack of compassion for the poor, nor is any kind of prejudice against other races, genders, sexual orientations, and so on.

“What else would I do?” I asked.  “Would I empower leagues of Satanists to rise up and take over?”

I realized that would be a lame threat.  While black masses, pentagrams, and crucifying frogs upside down may seem attractive to some people, it’s really not a temptation to the masses.  If I were to destroy Christianity, the effects would have to be pretty broad based.

I considered a number of other possibilities, each promising varying degrees of success in relation to varying amounts of energy expended.  Then I hit upon it: an idea so powerful and promising that if I were truly the anti-Christ I’d gladly trade all the other plans and programs for just this one.  The single thing I would do to ensure that the path of Jesus would eventually be erased from the earth – and probably all the other godly paths that may exist in the world along with it – would be to instill a simple idea in the mind of every person.  The idea is this: “After you die, there is a good chance that if your God is not pleased with you, you will suffer extreme pain for all of eternity.”  That’s it.

“But this idea is already out there,” you say?  Hmmmm.  So I’ve been scooped!  In any case, you may wonder why I – and apparently someone long before me – would be content with instilling this one, simple thought in people’s consciousness?  Consider the following list of theoretical implications that would unravel in its wake.  You be the judge of how closely they match reality:

•    People would panic, making every effort to eliminate all possibility that God would be angry with them.  Since people could not prove the successfulness of their efforts, in their anxiety they would look for “sure fire” answers.

•    They would therefore be attracted to certain leaders who would promise them salvation in exchange for obedience.  Such leaders would wield unparalleled control over their followers.

•    Naturally, the leaders themselves would need proof of their effectiveness – some sort of testimony that would assure people that if they followed they would be safe.  Thus the leaders would claim to possess a written document containing God’s infallible words.  Since the document would be of human origin, and thus flawed no matter how much true inspiration it contained, that book would be full of contradictions.

•    The contradictions would increase people’s anxieties all the more, thus causing them to give up trying to interpret the rule book for themselves and to rely even more heavily on the interpretations of the leaders.

•    Those leaders who display absolute certainty in their beliefs, with least nuance, who actively discourage questioning or doubt would become the most popular, thereby shutting down the minds and hearts of their followers still further.

•    Naturally, since there would always remain at least a slight chance a person could be deemed unworthy no matter how hard people try to follow the rule book (and none would be able to follow it successfully, thus increasing anxiety), they would seek still other means to prove to themselves and to God that they are worthy.  They would find scapegoats.  They would find people who would serve to assure them of their own worthiness in contrast to these others.

•    They would also turn upon and destroy those who they felt were decreasing their chances of being saved from damnation.  Whole wars would erupt fueled by religious prejudice.

•    Then things would get really interesting.  Having assured themselves of their own salvation (or at least shutting the door and locking away any doubt deep in their consciousness) then the natural compassion would arise.  After all, human beings are created in God’s image.   They would wonder about their loved ones.  Would they be found worthy?  In an effort to “save” them, parents would manipulate and bully their own children and friends into faith.  Many would disown their children or reject their friends if they did not come around, lest the “depravity” spread to others. Whole families split apart and long-time friendships would disintegrate.

•    Then people would start wondering about those they’d never met or known.  Would they escape eternal damnation?  That’s when the proselytizing would begin, and the spreading of Christianity’s destruction to the ends of the earth.

•     Little by little, every ounce of love and compassion within people would thus be transformed into fear, and if those Christians were good evangelists, that fear would eventually spread to every ear who had yet to hear about Jesus and his “love.”

And there I’d have it.  Since fear is the opposite of love, and love is Jesus’ path, then with a single idea I would have wiped the path of Jesus off the face of the earth.  And it would be an inside job!

Affirmation 9 moves in the exact opposite direction of this malevolent little idea.  It assures people that all are loved by God for eternity – no matter who they are, no matter what they have done or failed to do, no matter what they believe or fail to believe.  Fear is replaced with faith.

Some people object that if God loves everyone beyond their wildest imagination, then they will have no incentive to change.  In point of fact, love has quite the opposite effect.  If you have doubts, then try to find any honest expression of love – any truly loving relationship on earth – that does not provoke deep change in those involved in it, whether they initially believed they’d be changed or not.  Personally, I became persuaded that God loves me this way twenty-five years ago and it completely changed the course of my life.

True love does not just affirm.  It also convicts.  But it does not just convict, either.  It provokes a turning from that which is not loving.  Indeed it is love that saves, not fear.