Wednesday, November 21, 2012

What Jesus Never Said

Organized religion is constantly in danger of losing touch with its founder; the church must take care that it does not stray from who Jesus is, what He does, how He does it, and what He says. Institutional Christianity is an environment of jargon which is constantly developing - this might be a good thing, or a bad thing, but it is an inescapable thing.

Human beings are linguistic creatures, and also creatures of habit. The development of an "insider" vocabulary is inevitable. We must, however, monitor the emergence and use of this "church talk" to ensure that it does not begin a slow creep away from the documented way in which Jesus presents Himself in the New Testament.

When the habitual speech patterns of the institutional church drift away from the message of Jesus, instead of fulfilling Christ's mission of "drawing all men unto" Himself (John 12:32), we will push men away from Him - and sometimes 'men' specifically, inasmuch as some of the church's bad linguistic habits are gender-specific.

Author David Murrow notes several instances of such phraseology. For example, in some corners of the ecclesiastic

universe you have two kinds of people: the saved and the lost. Men hate to be both. Men can't stand being lost - that's why they don't ask for directions. And the only thing worse than being lost is being saved. Throughout the literature of a thousand cultures, men are always the saviors, while women are the ones being saved. Today's Hollywood blockbusters still follow this ancient formula - Spider-Man rescues Mary Jane, not the other way around. It goes against the cultural grain for a man to assume the feminine role.

While both 'saved' and 'lost' appear in the New Testament, and there is nothing wrong with the use of the terms, it is the elevation of them to technical jargon, and the ubiquitous use of them as primary categories, which strays from the more textually authentic use of Biblical vocabulary.

Another term from the feminine side is sharing. Christians often say things like, "Steve, would you please share with us what the Lord has placed on your heart?" Regular men don't talk this way. It sounds too much like kindergarten. Imagine a gang member saying to one of his brothers, "Blade, would you please share with us how you jacked that Mercedes?"

There really is no precedent for a Greek or Hebrew verb meaning 'share' being used in the sense of 'verbally communicate' - any such verb in Scripture means to 'participate' in an activity, e.g., to "share in work" (II John 1:11) or to "share in sin" (Revelation 18:4), or to 'co-own' something, e.g., to "share in glory" (I Peter 5:1) or to "share an inheritance" (Galatians 4:30). One might argue that to "share the Gospel" is such an instance of the verb being used for communication (I Thessalonians 2:8), but certainly the Gospel is more than words or a personal experience - it is here an objective reality being 'shared' - i.e., being shared as one shares a physical substance like water or bread, not being merely verbally communicated.

Jesus spoke constantly of the kingdom of God. Men are kingdom builders. They think hierarchically. But many churches have replaced the masculine term kingdom of God with the more feminine family of God. Jesus never uttered this phrase. Nevertheless, it's become a favorite of pastors worldwide. "We're a loving family of God, here to worship Jesus," they cry. "We're so happy you've chosen to join our family this morning." They prefer to speak of the church as a "family" because the word resonates with the feminine heart.

To be sure, the New Testament hints at the familial analogy - the noun 'brother' (also in its plural form) indicates this. Yet Jesus clearly leans on the phrase 'kingdom of God' - or its equivalent, 'kingdom of heaven' - more.

Twentieth-century evangelicals coined two phrases that attempt to separate living faith from dead piety. Both have become very popular, and unfortunately, both are somewhat repellant to men.

The first term is a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It's almost impossible to attend an evangelical worship service these days without hearing this phrase spoken at least once.

Curious. While a number of Biblical passages imply a relationship between God and man, the term "personal relationship with Jesus" never appears in the Scriptures. Nor are individuals commanded to "enter into a relationship with God."

The main stock-in-trade of folk Christianity, the 'personal relationship with' Jesus Christ, never actually appears in the New Testament! This is noteworthy.

David Murrow identifies the second offending phrase from contemporary evangelicalism:

Just like personal relationship with Jesus, the Scriptures never use the term intimacy with God. And lest you think I'm dirty minded, whenever the words passionate or intimate appear in the Bible, they always refer to sex or lust between humans.

When a man loves another man, he uses the language of respect. "Hey Joe, you're a stand-up guy. I admire you." Men do not speak of passionate, intimate, or even personal relationships with their leaders or male friends.

It is in this way that the church can - unintentionally - repel men. Women may be comfortable with vocabulary talking about 'intimacy' with Jesus, but men aren't. That fact is also a segue to the observation that, among the many things which Jesus never says are: "I'm feeling ..." and "I'm comfortable with ..." and "I'm not comfortable with ..." and the compounded expression "I'm feeling comfortable with ..." (along with its negation "I'm not feeling comfortable with ..."). Christ's earthly life is not about comfort. It's about hardship.

Correspondingly, Jesus never asked questions formulated this way: "Are you comfortable with ... ?" and "How are you feeling about ... ?"

To be sure, Jesus had feelings - emotions - and expressed them at times. It is moving to note that Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus (John 11:35). But Jesus did not privilege emotions, nor did He make them the focal point of many of His lectures.

Another gender-related fact about language is male terseness. Although there are conflicting statistical results, men often tend to be less wordy than women. This is not a value judgment, but merely an observation. But there is an ecclesiastical dimension to this fact:

In my thirty-plus years of attending church, I've heard many a story about some great man of prayer who rose daily at 3 a.m. and prayed four to five hours before beginning his day. These anecdotes are meant to inspire, but they always left me feeling inadequate - like I was shortchanging God if I only had, say, fifteen minutes to give him.

Then I read what Jesus said about prayer. He warned us not to keep babbling on, like the pagans, "for they think that they will be heard because of their many words." He followed with a model prayer of exactly sixty-six words. It can be prayed in fewer than thirty seconds.

Nothing in Scripture suggests that long prayers are better than short ones. The Bible recommends consistency and frequency, not length.

In fact, I'd say that Murrow is already stretching it at fifteen minutes. I'd go for ten. But his point is made. Murrow elsewhere notes other ways in which the institutional church repels men. But the lesson is clear: the church must choose its words carefully.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Heaven Hurts?

Heaven, according to popular imagination and Scriptural text, is a paradise - beautiful music, excellent food and drink, a pleasant garden, streets of gold. Surely, being there would be delightful.

Yet in the allegory written by C.S. Lewis under the title The Great Divorce, Heaven is actually painful, at least for those visitors from Hell who've been allowed to be there on a trial basis. The grass is like nails, the light too bright, the sounds too loud, and a small apple seems like a solid lead weight. Yet for the permanent residents of Heaven, it is indeed delightful.

What was Lewis implying by this detail in his parable? Why would heaven be painful?

Part of the answer may be in remembering that his writing is indeed fantasy. He's probably not making a literal assertion about experiences a human might have in the next life. Rather, he's embodied a spiritual thought in a concrete narrative.

Are there aspects of living as a follower of Jesus - aspect of life in the Body of Christ - which cause joy to those who've given up trying to justify themselves, but which cause discomfort to those who cling to the notion that their works will redeem their lives?

Imagine inviting a person to join an organization which allows him to set aside his own goals and desires, to set the needs of others ahead of his own, and to thoroughly internalize the view that his existence is characterized as service to his fellow human - that being a servant is the core of who and what he is.

Further, imagine that this organization to which you inviting a person will also require him to state - publicly, repeatedly, and frequently - that his innate character is permanently flawed, corrupted, and sinful; that he can never do anything which will atone for, or make up for, his sinful nature and the sins which he has actually committed; and that the best he can do is thankfully receive forgiveness which he has in no way earned or deserved.

Some people will respond to such an invitation eagerly - for some, such a place would be a joy. Yet others will quickly and decisively decline the invitation, seeing such a place as extremely uncomfortable. So, in this life, having a chance to participate in a lifestyle which offers a foretaste of heaven is in fact painful to those who expend energy denying the truth about their sinful natures and their inability to help themselves.