IN WHICH: Joel tackles a difficult question
Over the last couple weeks now, I've been finding myself engaged in some good, old-fashioned apologetics and discussion. You see... the Presbyterian Church has been making some news. And some history.
Oddly enough, I haven't really had a lot of the conversations I'd been expecting to have in the community - I consider myself fortunate, especially as other sister churches in our denomination are already seeing repercussions of the PC(USA)'s decision to redefine marriage as being between "two people, traditionally a man and a woman." I haven't (knock on wood) received threats to the church. I haven't had people storming my office demanding explanations or wondering when the first gay marriage ceremony was scheduled to happen. Our local paper hasn't contacted me at all about the decision - which is interesting, given that the editor is a more conservative man who tends to cover some of these kinds of things in his editorials. But I also haven't had any couples come to me seeking to marry yet, either, so it's all just pretty much come and gone without much fanfare in our little community.
What I have been discussing recently, however, are matters of belief, unbelief, and the struggle between the two. One such spark to ignite conversation has been a recent article published on the Patheos website by a Presbyterian minister who "Doesn't believe in God" - though the title is misleading and meant simply to be provocative. John Shuck is not an atheist in the pulpit, at least not in the strict definition of the term. He instead embraces a kind of Liberal Theology that eschews the "supernatural" in discussion of Christian thought and practice in favor of a more naturalistic theology predicated on sheer rationalism and empirical thought. As such, he posits a variety of views that many, even in the moderate-to-liberal PC(USA), consider to be unorthodox on one level or another: he rejects the notion of divine inspiration behind the Scriptures, viewing them entirely as "human products;" states that God functions solely as "symbol," has no divine agency in the world, and is nothing more than "shorthand for the Universe and sometimes for qualities and aspirations that I wish to pursue or emulate;" he rejects the notion of an "afterlife," along with the concepts of heaven, hell, or the "need for salvation from one realm to another;" he rejects Jesus' divinity, focusing on the "historical Jesus" and conveying Christ as more of a moral teacher synonymous with the Hindu concept of the "ishta devata," or "the deity you choose."
I've found myself drawn to read more about Shuck and of his writings - it's kind of like how some people describe themselves as "hate-watching" something. I'm enjoying reading some of his blog entries, but I disagree with him on so many levels. I find myself agreeing with him here and there on various points, but then something he says goes back to remind me how deeply different his theology is from mine and how far apart we really are from consensus and agreement. My biggest issue, and where it hurts me the most that we can't come together on all of this, is that I like the man. I don't know him, haven't met him, and have immense respect for him for both his ability to be straightforward about his beliefs and to still aim to live a life that is as "Christ-like" as possible. But I also strongly dislike a lot of what he is saying - the world Shuck often paints in his writing (that I have read so far) is more black and white than I expect from a pastor who otherwise embraces a very open and inclusive stance of "BYOG" or Bring Your Own God. Shuck paints "supernatural" theology with a wide brush, and tends to skew his portrayal toward fundamentalism, presenting those who believe in the "supernatural" as outdated and misguided, and accuses it of putting a heavy theological veil over reality. He narrows "supernatural" theology (and those who adhere to it) into a group of people who feel that you must fit into a very tight theological box - you must believe this, this, and this to be Presbyterian/Christian/etc. and in so doing, he (perhaps unintentionally) overlooks a large population of Christians, particularly members of the PC(USA), who I would argue are much more moderate in their theology than he would necessarily give us credit for being.
The thing I keep coming back to time and time again as I engage with Shuck is:
If we hold Christ as nothing more than a moral teacher and exemplar of ethical behavior, the whole Christian movement falls flat on its face. C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity:
Without the resurrection of Christ as our "firm foundation," the entire Christian movement becomes an exercise in futility with nothing more than a foolish optimism at its center: "Jesus taught us a lot of good principles and encouraged us to work toward a world where we all embrace his teachings." This is all well and good, and a movement on this basis is fine, until the crushing weight of despair and brokenness in this world causes us to lose hope and give up, tired of continually swimming upstream in a river of raw sewage that is the depravity of this world. That is the end-result of secular humanism alone, no matter how hard one tries, no matter how much good any one particular group or philanthropy is doing. Secular humanism fails on its own merits because, ultimately, the world sucks. For every Ghandi, there is an equal and opposite Hitler. The scales balance at best toward neutrality, and at worst toward depravity. Everyone dies in the end, the world keeps spinning on, and we repeat an endless cycle of small handfuls of humans trying to do good things while the rest of humanity tears itself apart until either our sun explodes or humanity destroys itself. We can remain cheerful and optimistic for a long time, but ultimately we have to realize the futility of secular humanism by itself.
But that's not the message of the "supernatural" that we find in Scripture. If we take Scripture, not fully "at its word," necessarily, but at least as a reliable, authoritative source of revealed Truth, then the struggle is not in vain. If we take the message of the Gospel and the message of the resurrection to be indicative that there is a life beyond this one, that the "afterlife" is demonstrated by Christ's own defeat of death on Easter morning, and that the Kingdom Christ promises will be a physical, earthly Kingdom in which all of creation, including humanity itself, is restored to right relationship and unity with God, we suddenly find hope springing up anew. Where before, we practiced an exercise of human futility by relying upon secular humanism as our inspiration, we now can reorient ourselves to the promise of the Gospel, realizing that what we do in the here and now to help others, to edify humanity and work for justice and well-being for all is an attempt to reflect and demonstrate the qualities of the Kingdom that is still coming, to encourage others to walk alongside us in this shared quality of hope, and to usher in that Kingdom together as members of one body, the body of Christ. We don't just have a good example to follow, or a stubborn sense of foolish optimism to fuel us, but the power of the Holy Spirit herself at work within us, driving us forward in a shared community of grace and gratitude. And so, every time the church empowers a woman to get an education, to start a career and make a living for herself in this country or in hundreds of others around the world, it is sowing seeds of the Kingdom. Every time a mission group digs a new well for clean water and irrigation for crops, it is sowing seeds of the Kingdom. Every time the church session/council/etc. pays the utility bills to help keep the lights, water, and heat on in their church so that the AA group has a place to meet and to find their faith in the "higher power" that helps them stand against addiction, it's sowing seeds of the Kingdom. When a child comes home each weekend from school with a backpack full of food to help them survive the weekend because members of churches throughout the community support the food ministry that the school nurse initiated in the district, that ministry is sowing seeds for the Kingdom. And when tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, famine and war tear apart the landscape and men and women reach out with bandages, clean water, blankets, new clothes, food, and shelter through Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and other humanitarian aid organizations, those groups are sowing seeds for the Kingdom. What we do here and now are reflections of the Kingdom yet to come, where such travesties no longer exist. And we do all these things in the hope that we can show a hint of what that Kingdom can be like.
I believe in that Kingdom because, short of God taking direct action through Christ and doing what humanity on its own cannot do, there is no real, lasting hope that our world can truly change. But because a "supernatural" God chooses to step into our own messy humanity, to live and dwell among us, to give his own life for us and to change the world himself by ushering in a new Kingdom, I know not only why I'm doing what I'm doing, but I find strength and encouragement to work for that Kingdom where it wouldn't have otherwise existed.
I respect John Shuck's approach to his faith - and I appreciate that, unlike many pastors who are going through similar struggles, he's at least bold enough to be honest and open about where his faith journey is taking him. I pray that, despite our differences, God still works through his ministry and creates opportunities for evangelism and outreach to people that the church might be otherwise missing - but I also pray that God can take that outreach and redirect it to the revelation of the divine in this world, because that's where I believe true hope still lies.
Ultimately, I find we may simply have to agree to disagree - I don't know that I'd agree that his theology falls within the "big tent" of the PC(USA), or that I am entirely comfortable with him being a pastor in my denomination, but I also trust in our Presbyteries to engage faithfully with him in that discernment process as he continues in engaging in what he views as ministry.
At the end of the day, I find myself echoing the words of Puddleglum the Marshwiggle from C.S. Lewis' The Silver Chair, portrayed here by the great Tom Baker (pardon the scary/bad VFX at the tail end of the clip):
Oddly enough, I haven't really had a lot of the conversations I'd been expecting to have in the community - I consider myself fortunate, especially as other sister churches in our denomination are already seeing repercussions of the PC(USA)'s decision to redefine marriage as being between "two people, traditionally a man and a woman." I haven't (knock on wood) received threats to the church. I haven't had people storming my office demanding explanations or wondering when the first gay marriage ceremony was scheduled to happen. Our local paper hasn't contacted me at all about the decision - which is interesting, given that the editor is a more conservative man who tends to cover some of these kinds of things in his editorials. But I also haven't had any couples come to me seeking to marry yet, either, so it's all just pretty much come and gone without much fanfare in our little community.
What I have been discussing recently, however, are matters of belief, unbelief, and the struggle between the two. One such spark to ignite conversation has been a recent article published on the Patheos website by a Presbyterian minister who "Doesn't believe in God" - though the title is misleading and meant simply to be provocative. John Shuck is not an atheist in the pulpit, at least not in the strict definition of the term. He instead embraces a kind of Liberal Theology that eschews the "supernatural" in discussion of Christian thought and practice in favor of a more naturalistic theology predicated on sheer rationalism and empirical thought. As such, he posits a variety of views that many, even in the moderate-to-liberal PC(USA), consider to be unorthodox on one level or another: he rejects the notion of divine inspiration behind the Scriptures, viewing them entirely as "human products;" states that God functions solely as "symbol," has no divine agency in the world, and is nothing more than "shorthand for the Universe and sometimes for qualities and aspirations that I wish to pursue or emulate;" he rejects the notion of an "afterlife," along with the concepts of heaven, hell, or the "need for salvation from one realm to another;" he rejects Jesus' divinity, focusing on the "historical Jesus" and conveying Christ as more of a moral teacher synonymous with the Hindu concept of the "ishta devata," or "the deity you choose."
I've found myself drawn to read more about Shuck and of his writings - it's kind of like how some people describe themselves as "hate-watching" something. I'm enjoying reading some of his blog entries, but I disagree with him on so many levels. I find myself agreeing with him here and there on various points, but then something he says goes back to remind me how deeply different his theology is from mine and how far apart we really are from consensus and agreement. My biggest issue, and where it hurts me the most that we can't come together on all of this, is that I like the man. I don't know him, haven't met him, and have immense respect for him for both his ability to be straightforward about his beliefs and to still aim to live a life that is as "Christ-like" as possible. But I also strongly dislike a lot of what he is saying - the world Shuck often paints in his writing (that I have read so far) is more black and white than I expect from a pastor who otherwise embraces a very open and inclusive stance of "BYOG" or Bring Your Own God. Shuck paints "supernatural" theology with a wide brush, and tends to skew his portrayal toward fundamentalism, presenting those who believe in the "supernatural" as outdated and misguided, and accuses it of putting a heavy theological veil over reality. He narrows "supernatural" theology (and those who adhere to it) into a group of people who feel that you must fit into a very tight theological box - you must believe this, this, and this to be Presbyterian/Christian/etc. and in so doing, he (perhaps unintentionally) overlooks a large population of Christians, particularly members of the PC(USA), who I would argue are much more moderate in their theology than he would necessarily give us credit for being.
The thing I keep coming back to time and time again as I engage with Shuck is:
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| If only I had her powers of cuteness, this would be a lot easier. |
Why don't we have both? Why can't we have both? Why is it that you feel so strongly that the modern church must reject its insistence on the "supernatural?" Why is it that you are so convinced that this rational naturalism, or what I would consider secular humanism thinly wrapped in a Christian shell with a creamy Unitarian filling, is the necessary future of the church?
I can't help but wonder if Shuck and others who have come out as "atheist pastors," or pastors who "reject the supernatural," is engaging in more of a reaction to than a discernment of at this point. Like I said before, there are places where I somewhat agree with him. I think we do often put a higher emphasis on dogmatics than on honest and frank engagement with our faith and beliefs; I agree that Scripture is not above forms of higher criticism - in fact, it's been precisely through these higher forms of criticism that I have come to fall in love with exploring God's word each week as I prepare sermons and engage in self-study; I support and agree with evolutionary theory, even if I don't know that I'd go so far as to call for an "evolution day" on the church calendar; for the most part, I agree that religion is more or less a human construct and is definitely not above reproach; I'd even go so far as to meet Shuck in the middle in agreement that there are elements of the Gospel accounts that are more mythical than factual/historical. But at the end of the day, I still A) believe in God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit capital "G" God - and B) believe that the best way that we can fully understand and appreciate God (or to use the words of the Westminster Confession, "Glorify and Enjoy God) is to approach God within the context of what Shuck would call the "supernatural."
In my own faith journey, there is one central, foundational cornerstone that shapes the entire narrative of Scripture for me: that an eternal God, a God who by God's very substance is "above nature" and therefore supernatural, became flesh, became a part of God's own creation; that in that flesh, God lived, died, and rose again; and that in that resurrection and ascension, God has ultimately accomplished the redemption and restoration of all creation.
I keep finding myself repeating this phrase lately: "I believe that God is bigger." We practice a faith that, if we are truly honest with ourselves, is filled
with questions, doubts, and struggles - but that's how we're meant to
grow: we dwell in the Refiner's fire until our impurities are melted
away and all that is left is precious metal.
I believe that God is bigger than our dogma, our beliefs, our doctrines. That God is bigger than our own egos, our own cultural constructions, our symbols and systems of expression. I believe that God is bigger than our shortcomings, that God is bigger than our faulty understandings, that God is bigger than our brokenness and sinfulness. And I believe that, ultimately, God is bigger than sin and death, and that God has shown us that power in the resurrection and promised us a participation in it.
Paul writes to the church in Corinth:
Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some of you say there is no resurrection of the dead? If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain. We are even found to be misrepresenting God, because we testified of God that he raised Christ—whom he did not raise if it is true that the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised. If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have died in Christ have perished. If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. (1 Corinthians 15:12-19)The resurrection is the lynchpin of the entire Gospel - in fact, of the entire Christian faith. Without the resurrection, we are little more than a rebellious offshoot of Judaism that made a huge mistake in the first century. We backed the wrong horse, calling a man Messiah who ultimately did a lot of good things and started one of the biggest religious movements in world history, but who did nothing more than any of the myriad prophets who came before him. Without the resurrection, we have no certain promise of the future, but only a law that we are doomed to fall short of, constantly seeking the forgiveness and approval of a distant, unknowable God. If there is no resurrection and no promise of a kingdom yet to come, then Shuck's philosophy is no more or less compelling than any other good ideas of philanthropy and goodwill - the Gospel is neutered and has no authority or appeal other than that it has many good ideas. Without the resurrection, the Gospel is ultimately stripped of hope. Christ is a revolutionary counter-cultural extremist who is killed for his subversive message of peace and harmony.
If we hold Christ as nothing more than a moral teacher and exemplar of ethical behavior, the whole Christian movement falls flat on its face. C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity:
I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: ‘I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.’ That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.
We are faced, then, with a frightening alternative. This man we are talking about either was (and is) just what He said or else a lunatic, or something worse. Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God. God has landed on this enemy-occupied world in human form.
Without the resurrection of Christ as our "firm foundation," the entire Christian movement becomes an exercise in futility with nothing more than a foolish optimism at its center: "Jesus taught us a lot of good principles and encouraged us to work toward a world where we all embrace his teachings." This is all well and good, and a movement on this basis is fine, until the crushing weight of despair and brokenness in this world causes us to lose hope and give up, tired of continually swimming upstream in a river of raw sewage that is the depravity of this world. That is the end-result of secular humanism alone, no matter how hard one tries, no matter how much good any one particular group or philanthropy is doing. Secular humanism fails on its own merits because, ultimately, the world sucks. For every Ghandi, there is an equal and opposite Hitler. The scales balance at best toward neutrality, and at worst toward depravity. Everyone dies in the end, the world keeps spinning on, and we repeat an endless cycle of small handfuls of humans trying to do good things while the rest of humanity tears itself apart until either our sun explodes or humanity destroys itself. We can remain cheerful and optimistic for a long time, but ultimately we have to realize the futility of secular humanism by itself.
But that's not the message of the "supernatural" that we find in Scripture. If we take Scripture, not fully "at its word," necessarily, but at least as a reliable, authoritative source of revealed Truth, then the struggle is not in vain. If we take the message of the Gospel and the message of the resurrection to be indicative that there is a life beyond this one, that the "afterlife" is demonstrated by Christ's own defeat of death on Easter morning, and that the Kingdom Christ promises will be a physical, earthly Kingdom in which all of creation, including humanity itself, is restored to right relationship and unity with God, we suddenly find hope springing up anew. Where before, we practiced an exercise of human futility by relying upon secular humanism as our inspiration, we now can reorient ourselves to the promise of the Gospel, realizing that what we do in the here and now to help others, to edify humanity and work for justice and well-being for all is an attempt to reflect and demonstrate the qualities of the Kingdom that is still coming, to encourage others to walk alongside us in this shared quality of hope, and to usher in that Kingdom together as members of one body, the body of Christ. We don't just have a good example to follow, or a stubborn sense of foolish optimism to fuel us, but the power of the Holy Spirit herself at work within us, driving us forward in a shared community of grace and gratitude. And so, every time the church empowers a woman to get an education, to start a career and make a living for herself in this country or in hundreds of others around the world, it is sowing seeds of the Kingdom. Every time a mission group digs a new well for clean water and irrigation for crops, it is sowing seeds of the Kingdom. Every time the church session/council/etc. pays the utility bills to help keep the lights, water, and heat on in their church so that the AA group has a place to meet and to find their faith in the "higher power" that helps them stand against addiction, it's sowing seeds of the Kingdom. When a child comes home each weekend from school with a backpack full of food to help them survive the weekend because members of churches throughout the community support the food ministry that the school nurse initiated in the district, that ministry is sowing seeds for the Kingdom. And when tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, famine and war tear apart the landscape and men and women reach out with bandages, clean water, blankets, new clothes, food, and shelter through Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and other humanitarian aid organizations, those groups are sowing seeds for the Kingdom. What we do here and now are reflections of the Kingdom yet to come, where such travesties no longer exist. And we do all these things in the hope that we can show a hint of what that Kingdom can be like.
I believe in that Kingdom because, short of God taking direct action through Christ and doing what humanity on its own cannot do, there is no real, lasting hope that our world can truly change. But because a "supernatural" God chooses to step into our own messy humanity, to live and dwell among us, to give his own life for us and to change the world himself by ushering in a new Kingdom, I know not only why I'm doing what I'm doing, but I find strength and encouragement to work for that Kingdom where it wouldn't have otherwise existed.
I respect John Shuck's approach to his faith - and I appreciate that, unlike many pastors who are going through similar struggles, he's at least bold enough to be honest and open about where his faith journey is taking him. I pray that, despite our differences, God still works through his ministry and creates opportunities for evangelism and outreach to people that the church might be otherwise missing - but I also pray that God can take that outreach and redirect it to the revelation of the divine in this world, because that's where I believe true hope still lies.
Ultimately, I find we may simply have to agree to disagree - I don't know that I'd agree that his theology falls within the "big tent" of the PC(USA), or that I am entirely comfortable with him being a pastor in my denomination, but I also trust in our Presbyteries to engage faithfully with him in that discernment process as he continues in engaging in what he views as ministry.
At the end of the day, I find myself echoing the words of Puddleglum the Marshwiggle from C.S. Lewis' The Silver Chair, portrayed here by the great Tom Baker (pardon the scary/bad VFX at the tail end of the clip):
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