Kaleidoscope: January 2017

Pilgrim's Progress: Christian Recovering His Lost Roll (i.e. the Scriptures)

    Christian churches throughout the centuries have always seriously struggled to remain faithful to Christ's "new" commandment (Jn 13:34-35). Accordingly, within a church even good things, like the defense of orthodox thinking, can become inordinately situated in the place of love, a greater thing (Rev 2:1-7; 1 Cor 13:13). This is where Eugene Peterson, who I've quoted below at length, offers us some very insightful wisdom. The context: he's addressing threads of thought regarding love woven into the biblical book of 1 John.

   “A primary task of the community of Jesus is to maintain this lifelong cultivation of love in all the messiness of its families, neighborhoods, congregations, and missions. Love is intricate, demanding, glorious, deeply human, and God-honoring, but — and here’s the thing — never a finished product, never an accomplishment, always flawed in some degree or other. So why define our identity in terms that can never be satisfied? There are so many easier ways to give meaning and significance to our human condition: giving assent to a creed or keeping a prescribed moral code are the most common in congregations.
     Belief and behavior are essential, but as the defining mark of the Christian they lack one thing — relationship. They are both prone to abstractions or programs. Abstractions (learning right belief) are good; programs (learning right behavior) are good; but it is also possible to master the abstractions and carry out the programs impersonally. In fact, it is far easier if it is done impersonally.
     Teaching people to think rightly and accurately is largely a cognitive process. We learn the right words and acquire the appropriate images for thinking about, imagining, and responding to God in Christ. All this is important. Still, it is possible, and not only possible but common, to think rightly and live badly, live impersonally. Knowledge does not turn into acts of love automatically.
     Training people to behave morally is largely a programmatic process. We are trained in right responses, in keeping assigned rules, in respecting boundaries, in avoiding danger and fulfilling goals. But again, it is possible, and not only possible but common, to behave impeccably but live badly, live selfishly.
     We have an abundance of educational courses for teaching right thinking about God in the community — Bible studies, catechetical curricula, Sunday School classes. And we have many imaginative programs for training in behaviors that are obedient to the scriptural commands to help and heal, form missions, and evangelize the world. But whoever heard of a class on love? And whoever heard of a love program? And the reason is that love cannot be reduced to what can be taught in a classroom or what can be formulated in a program.
     The attractiveness of a class is that it simplifies by excluding everything but the subject involved. There is nothing wrong with this, as such, and much that is good. We need to get our thinking straight, know who we are and what we are dealing with. The classroom deals primarily with concepts and understanding. But learning to love can’t be reduced to ideas about love.
    The attractiveness of a program is that it simplifies by depersonalizing: get everyone doing the same thing for the same goal. There is nothing wrong with this, as such, and much that is good. It can help us to accomplish agreed upon things in the community to the glory of God. But the practice of love is nothing if not personal. You can’t simplify it into a function.
     What is dangerous is not ideas but the academic mind that abstracts both things and people from particular relationships into concepts. And what is dangerous is not programs but the programmatic mind that routinely sets aside the personal in order to more efficiently achieve an impersonal cause. These are not only dangerous but sacrilegious, for it is precisely relational particularities and personal intimacies that are at the center of our God-given, Holy Spirit– formed identities as the beloved who are commanded to love.”

Peterson, Eugene H. Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology (pp. 313-314). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. Kindle Edition.

"I have thought an awful lot about blowing up the White House"

"John McCain is not a war hero"

I’m a person who deeply cares about relationships, so I study every facet of them. Relationships are valuable and fragile, and most of us know that they can be surprisingly fractured, often beyond repair. Relational estrangements abound all around us, ranging from toxic friendships to nasty divorces to political brawls to religious jihads to all-out wars. And, somewhere along the line, all of us, in one way or the other, get caught in the crossfire of such devastating, gut-wrenching experiences.

Interestingly, some of the most insightful relational experts I’ve read indicate that there is one telltale sign that often signals the beginning of the end of a relationship: contempt. When contempt surfaces amid any disagreement, the intemperate contenders “take the gloves off,” so to speak. And, unless the gloves are put back on soon, all hell usually breaks loose. This is what I see increasingly happening in American politics and culture, both on the left and the right. Vigorous disagreement (a good, healthy thing) degenerating into malicious contempt (something ominous and dangerous).

So I entreat you, as a fellow-American, whether you claim to be part of some declared moral majority on the left, or some declared moral majority on the right (or somewhere in between), keep your contempt to yourself. And if you haven’t kept your contempt to yourself, put the gloves back on before our country implodes.