Nearly 2 years ago I re-posted this article on the use of ‘faith’ in politics. I re-posted it nearly a year after the original just as things were heating up in the home stretch of the primary elections on the use of ‘faith’ in the political square, wondering if the term has become utterly meaningless. I re-post it in light of my series on Brian McLaren’s new book, A New Kind of Christianity and others—like Samir Selmanovic’s book It’s Really All About God—who write on Faith, capital ‘F.’ There is popular trend developing within Christianity thanks to these and other Emergent-type authors and thinkers to emphasize generalize and vanilla-ize ‘faith’ through such terms/phrases as: people of faith, having faith, faith community, being in faith, etc…

The emphasis falls on the effort of Faithing, rather on the “object” to which that faith is placed. In fact, in an effort to pluralize God and universalize faith itself, God—the overly generalized World-Spirit god of Schleiermacher—is the object to which that faith is directed, as if it’s really all about God. Cooinciding with their refusal to acknowledge and exalt Jesus Christ as exclusive Lord and Messiah, the likes of Brian and Samir reduce Jesus to merely a revelation of the character of God who provides us a better moral example as a model citizen, rather than being God himself, and permit the other “Abrahamic faiths” to act as vehicles of God and modes of salvation. As I have contended elsewhere, it’s not really all about God, it’s about Jesus Christ. It’s not about “faith,” it’s about faith in Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith who alone provides rescue and re-creation for all who “faith” in Him.

I was reading todays New York Times this morning during my routine of a cup of coffee, a bagel slathered with cream cheese, yogurt and the Times, when I stumbled across an articled entitled, “Faith Intertwines With Political Life for Clinton.” It was an interesting article on the faith roots of Hillary Clinton and shed some light on her Methodism, beliefs and faith-politics integration.

Here were some things I thought were interesting about her own faith journey, beliefs, and spiritual practices: she was actively involved in the church growing up; she regularly reads the Bible and commentaries on Scripture, is actively involved in a weekly prayer gatherings in the Senate, and has experienced “the presence of the Holy Spirit on Many occasions;” Mrs. Clinton believes in the resurrection of Jesus, thought she is less sure of the doctrine of the exclusivity of Jesus Christ (or Christianity as the article puts it) for salvation; and she believes the Bible communicates God’s desire to have a personal relationship with people. In fact, as the article goes on to say, “Mrs. Clinton and others who have known her well as a church youth-group member or a Sunday school teacher or as a participant in weekly Senate prayer breakfasts, say [F]aith has helped define her, shaping everything from her commitments to public service to the most intimate of decisions.”

These admissions were really striking and encouraging, and while I admire her for her involvement in church activities, efforts in the lives of the marginalized and personal devotion to Faith, one question begs to be asked: In What Do You Place Your Faith, Mrs. Clinton?

The reason I chose this story and to ask the question isn’t because I am some rabid anti-Clintonite. I liked the story and learned some things about Mrs. Clinton’s own faith journey that struck and touched, me. Rather, I think this story on the personal faith-life of one of Election 2008’s front runners is an interesting social commentary on the religious life of postmodern America. Going strictly off her language and personal observations of the culture at large, it seems as thought the act of faith has been transformed into a larger, metaphysical object unto itself; Faith (with a big “f”) is now an entity on it’s own to be pursued and embraced.

Without getting all “in vs. out”, making a judgment on whether such talk is genuine or for political expediency, and especially without judging Mrs. Clinton’s salvation or eternal destination, here are two quotations to illustrate:

[Faith] has certainly been a huge part of who I am, and how I have seen the world and what I believe in, and what I have tried to do in my life.

I am very grateful that I had a grounding in [F]aith that gave me the courage and strength to do what I thought was right regardless of what the world thought.

Here’s the kicker: Faith is really not the key. Having Faith or being grounded in Faith does nothing for a person. What is important is the object to which that faith is placed.

When we fly we may “have faith” in the pilot of the plane, the mechanics, the plane itself, or even the science of flight, but that act of faith-ing does nothing for the actual operation of the plane and it’s ability to stay afloat; whether anyone “faiths” while flying is completely irrelevant and has no bearing on whether or not the plane flies or crashes.

The same is true for our spiritual lives. Read what Paul says in Romans 3:

Now a righteousness from God, apart from the law, has been made known to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.

As Paul says, our right standing before God, the forgiveness from sin we receive to gain that standing, and the restoration of the entire person to the way he or she was created pre-Rebellion comes through faith in Jesus, not faith in Faith. Faith is not the Savior or Healer or Restorer or Forgiver, Jesus is. Not Religion, not Methodism, not Buddha, not Mohammed, not your Priest. Jesus Christ is the Savior and Healer and Restorer and Forgiver of the world.

Having Faith or being in Faith or engaging in a Faith Tradition has become quite in vogue the past few years. My guess is because such talk is incredibly noncommittal. Anyone can “have Faith” and “be in Faith” without it interfering in there lives or the lives of those around them. That’s not the case with Jesus Christ, though. Jesus destabilizes, confronts, and makes exclusive claims that prevent a person from going on with life as is.

Furthermore, Faith itself is nothing without Jesus. I say it again: faith is nothing unless it is placed in Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ. As Paul insists, the righteousness from God comes not through Faith, but faith in Jesus. Finding rescue from our rebellious nature and being re-created to the way we were intended to be at creation happens only for those who believe through faith in Jesus Christ. As Luke writes in Acts 4, “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name given under heaven by which we must be saved.”

As I said before, this post really isn’t meant to be about the former First Lady and her faith or where (or in whom) she places it. I was merely using her to illustrate this point: the act of “faithing” is not the point, Jesus is; Faith does not save or transform us, Jesus does. I hope that she and others do place there faith in Jesus Christ for healing, forgiveness. restoration, peace, transformation, and salvation, because outside of Him there is no hope.

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My Monday morning blog post announcing my departure from Emergent drew far more attention than I ever expected! E-ver! Geesh, I’m just a 29 year old pastor/theology student from G-Rap who’s happened to blog for several years through my theological journey. This is one more iteration in that progression. Thanks to all those who gave encouragement and critique, questioned my motives and theological endeavor, and expressed solidarity. Your comments and interactions have given me much to think about and consider, comments I’m sure to carry with me over the course of the next several weeks.

I know I promised I would begin offering my bottled-up critiques, but I thought I should pause and clarify the obvious elephants: why? and how? Why did I leave? Why did I strap on the platform shoes and Christmas lights and strut myself down the blogosphere making my announcement. (How immature, right? How positively arrogant!) How did I come to the point in my theological/spiritual journey where I decided it was time to move beyond this conversation?

So, why? How?

First, I should clarify that I don’t want to cast aside my friendships and relationships in the conversation. In fact, Doug Pagitt and I had a great conversation yesterday about my change of heart where we reiterated our commitment to friendship, despite theological differences. My departure is much more theological than relational, so I hope similar relationships will still be preserved.

Now, in answer to the questions, here is some short context to my frustration and reasons for walking. Perhaps they will mirror some of your own. I know the comment section and my inbox is filled with similar stories, so I add this to the mix. On Friday I will begin explaining my theological frustration and perspective with some of the emerging church theology, beginning with interacting with Pagitt’s A Christianity Worth Believing through a 6 post series (Btw: I emailed him a copy beforehand of the original 30 page examination because I thought that would be fair.) Before then, here is some context:

As I explained a few days ago, I’ve been part of the emerging church conversation for half a decade but have grown increasingly uncomfortable and saddened by the theological trajectory of the project. Deeply saddened, actually. This isn’t disillusionment. This is a deep sadness and heartache over what is happening from the top ranks. And what is that? A departure (perhaps deliberate?) among the leaders of Emerging Church Inc. from the historic Rule of Faith and a fashioning together of a new, fresh version of Christianity built on “other forms” of Christianity that have been deemed foreign to that Rule.

That version questions God’s “clear and certain” self-disclosure/revelation;¹ minimizes actual individual culpability in rebellion;² ignores the deity of Christ; downright denies the exclusivity of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ;³ reduces the cross to simply an example of love;⁴ denies real judgment and universalizes salvation,⁵ among others.

It wasn’t always like this, though.

At the beginning, from what I remember back in 2005 when I entered the conversation it really was an exploration. Such sites as emergentvillage.org and opensourcetheology.net were catalysts for bursting and burning through the cobwebs and rickety structures of conservative evangelicalism. It tried to root itself in the more ancient, forgotten parts of our faith—like the Creeds—to moor itself while forging ahead with re-imagining the Church as centered around the teachings of Christ and the Kingdom He bore.

Theologically, it was a deconstructive tour de force with it’s crosshairs aimed squarely at conservative evangelicalism, and rightly so. Reconstructively (is that a word?) it helped construct a missional response to a real, genuine shift occurring within Western culture known as postmodernity. Most of the church was ill equipped to deal with the tectonic shifts our culture was undergoing, and Emergent helped navigate those shifts for church leaders as New Tribes Missions does for tribal missionaries. At the time I greatly appreciated and benefited from both, because it intersected with my own faith exploration.

Since late 2003, I had been ministering on Capitol Hill for a little known entity (The Center for Christian Statesmanship) of a more well known entity, Coral Ridge Ministries (run by an even more known entity, Dr. D. James Kennedy). During this season I became increasingly uncomfortable with the theology behind this thoroughly conservative evangelical ministry, especially their theology of the gospel. The gospel Story it told was rooted in Dr. Kennedy’s Evangelism Explosion, which started God’s Story of Rescue in the end and middle, at heaven/hell and sin. Jesus, we were told, came to inaugurate a cosmic transaction between me and Him in order to beam me outta here “some glad mornin’ when this life is o’r.”

The theology of the Story disturbed me, so did the methods methods we used to sell that Story and manner in which we did ministry in our context. You see, the mission context of Capitol Hill is thoroughly postmodern and young adult: at the time there were roughly 24,000 congressional staffers (an average age of 27) who were from the brightest liberal arts institutions this country has to offer. Missionally, we sucked because we were ill equipped to engage this  young adult postmodern culture. Theologically, God’s beautiful, majestic Story of Rescue was reduced to 5 talking points and Jesus was reduced to a product sold like a vacuum cleaner or set of kitchen knives sans nifty accessories. After my first year in ministry I began to wonder: is THIS what I’ve committed myself too?

Then along came Emergent.

My story follows others, me thinks. Many others have endured similar frustrations before wandering into the oasis-village of Emergent, finding solace, healing, and inspiration from a band of sisters and brothers making a similar trek. There I found what I needed at the time and am thankful for what Emergent was during those years. I absolutely appreciated the theological deconstruction and missiological reconstruction this conversation provided.

Over the past year or so, however, it seems like the later (missiology) has faded and the former (theology) has shifted. I have been struck in recent months by this: now that we’ve gotten the missional response to postmodern culture down, many believe the time for theological construction has begun; we “get” postmodern ministry, now we need an alternative Christian faith built on an alternative Christian theology.

So began this new era of theological construction.

Four books crystalize for me this progressive theological construction effort: Peter Rollins‘, How (Not) to Speak of God (2006); Doug Pagitt’s, A Christianity Worth Believing (2008); Samir Selmanovic’s, It’s Really All About God(2009); and now Brian McLaren’s, A New Kind of Christianity (2010).

While I sound way more conspiratorial than I actually mean, the conversation absolutely has moved from simply talking to sketching, especially the last few years. While I am fully aware (thank you very much!) that the emerging church is bigger than three or five voices, we all know it is intimately bound-up with them. Furthermore, those closely associated with the emerging church are by-and-large ensconced in their theological reflection. If I am wrong, please point me to someone on the inside of the conversation who has offered a proper, pointed theological assessment of Peter or Doug or Samir or Brian. I realize I could be wrong, but I am pretty sure it has yet to been done.

Now it will be.

It’s not personal. It’s academic.

Rather than reacting out of hurt or pain or woundedness (as some have annoyingly suggested) I am trying to provide space for an academic “airing of ideas” for the sake of healthy discussion and disclosure. I’m not blaming all things emerging for the problems of the church. What I am trying to do is live out of the person I have become through the past three years of academic training: I have a deep concern and passion for God’s Story of Rescue and for people to experience the rescue that Story provides through Christ; for theologically rooting the Church in Her faith by properly understanding the Story History and the Spirit has given us and seeing those outside the Church rescued from rebellion and put back together again in Christ. .

That’s why I wrote my first book. That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I’m moving beyond Emergent.

Now, perhaps I am immature and petulant for bidding “au revoir” and “goodbye.” Perhaps that’s a fair critique. I don’t exactly want to leave my friends who identify with this conversation or invalidate my friendships in order to critique it. Goodness no! I just don’t know what to do anymore with the sad, devastating theological constructs being packaged and sold to thirsty, hungry, unsuspecting souls who long for rescue and re-creation and re-connection to their Creator. I can no longer sit idly by while said leaders fein innocence and drape themselves in “I’m just a mild-mannered guy” excuses in an attempt to ignore legitimate critique of their other faith.

In short: I’m tired of people being hoodwinked by the “different” theology being pushed and the hoodwinkers getting a pass, especially from those inside. Their version of Christianity isn’t different. It is other. We’ve seen this before, and I think something should be done about it. I guess someone should do something about it, so I’m stepping to the podium.

You may disagree with and decry my method, even my critiques. I’m sure both are flawed. Please grant me one request: deal with the ideas. The Emerging Church is an idea; it pushes ideas. In fact, how about those of you who think I’m whack actually deal with the ideas by giving a reasoned, intellectual defense for the theology that is pushed by Emerging Church Inc.

Yes, thats a direct challenge: Someone, anyone—Steve, Mike, Makeesha, Jonathan, Trip, or Julie, perhaps—please deal with the ideas by posting an 8-10 post theological series on both Doug and Brian’s book explaining why their theology is good and correct. I’ll even host it here, free of charge.

I myself am an ideas person. I’ve got plenty of them strewn about throughout novus•lumen, most having little to do with the emerging church and even less blasting it. The idea I am most passionate about, that is the impetus behind what I do as a pastor and theologian, is that Jesus Christ is both Lord and Messiah.

Lord. Messiah.

Both are ideas the New Testament is clear about. Unfortunately, evangelicalism all around seems incredibly confused about both, especially Emerging Church Inc.

Perhaps I can speak into the conversation (especially the Grand Rapids one) by pushing back against emerging church theology and help bring better definition to the contours of God’s Story of Rescue, for the sake of the Church. Perhaps I can follow in the footsteps of J. Greshem Machen, who wrote nearly 90 years prior: “The purpose of this book (blog) is not to decide the religious issue of the day, but merely to present the issue as sharply and clearly as possible.”

Perhaps.

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1. Rollins, Speak of God, 46. [↩]
2. Pagitt, Christianity, 165 [↩]
3. Selmanovic, All About God, 9; 60-61 [↩]
4. Pagitt, Christianity, 194-195 [↩]
5. Pagitt, Christianity, 230-231 [↩]

Update 3: Apparently I misunderstood Doug’s post on fear. I am sorry for suggesting those who critique him are driven by fear. Instead, Doug means a certain kind of attitude and vitriolic reaction is “driven from fear.” Sorry for mischaracterizing you, Doug.

Update 2: An important follow-up that explains my journey in, through, and beyond Emergent.

Update: Another one who doesn’t care about the emerging church anymore.

Once upon a time I was enamored by the “I-am-not-a-movement-but-a-conversation” known as the emerging church (In fact, at my seminary I’ve been known as Emergent Jeremy!) Five years ago, I stumbled upon an “emerging” author known as Brian McLaren (even attending his church for a stint). I gobbled-up his “A New Kind of Christian” trilogy because it’s question-asking permissive narrative gave flesh to the phantom that was haunting me at the time: What the hell is this whole Christian thing about?!

Pastor Dan was my doppleganger; Neo my mentor.

Five years ago I entered a period of faith deconstruction (one particular post I wrote that I was fond of at the time was, “10 Ways to Deconstruct Your Faith“) and reconstruction the likes of which I had never experienced in my life. For the first time I was taking my faith in Jesus Christ seriously and asking a whole lot of questions.

These questions were healthy and freeing and opened up a whole new world to explore and enjoy. For this I am grateful to the emerging church conversation of which I’ve been apart for several years. As my relationship with Emergent progressed, though, I began to wonder why it was cool and trendy to disregard Paul, pity the fool who believed in real judgment, ignore the cross, and downplay individual participation in rebellion/sin.

In short: I became uncomfortable and have grown downright tired of the theology that has bubbled-up out of the emerging church.

I’m not exactly sure when my saucy love affair with emergent and liberal Christianity ended. My “I don’t” isn’t as crystalized as my “I do.”

Maybe it was when I read Pelagius‘ writings and realized much of Emergent theology really does mirror his 5th century theology.

Maybe it was after the former head of Emergent Village, Tony Jones, rejected original sin, a historic part of the Rule of Faith, claiming that it is “neither biblically, philosophically, nor scientifically tenable. “.

Maybe it was when I read Fredrick Schleiermacher and realized his and modern liberalism’s vapid, gospel-less faith are being repackaged and popularized to an unsuspecting, ignorant Christian community as a wholesome alternative to what has been.

Maybe it was after I read Karl Barth and realized the natural theology pushed by popular emergent theologians is not revitalizing Christian faith, but killing it; it is the same kind of faith Barth so vociferously fought against in order to preserve the historic Rule of Faith.

Maybe it was after reading a leading emerging church voice suggest that God and grace and the Kingdom of God are not tied directly and exclusively to Jesus Christ; ultimately its not really about Jesus, but about a vanilla, generalized World-Spirit god (lower-case “g”).

Regardless, what I’ve come to realize is that while Emergent may believe it is believing differently—and consequently believe it is offering the world a different Christianity that is more believable than the current form—in reality the emerging church simply believes otherly; the form of Christianity that this version of Christianity pushes is neither innovative nor different: it is a form of Christianity other-than the versions that currently exist but mirror those that have already existed.

The Christian faith that the authors, leaders, and followers within Emergent believe “feels alive, sustainable, and meaningful in our day” (ACWB, 2) is really forms of faith from other days. They combine other forms of faith that both the Communion of Saints and Spirit of God have deemed foreign to the Holy Scriptures, Rule of Faith, and gospel of Jesus Christ throughout the history of Christ’s Bride, the Church.

I hope my friends from Emergent West Michigan won’t claim this is a “heresy hunt” and suggest I am no better than the hyper-fundamentalists who exalt themselves as Truth Defenders and tirelessly work to expose false teachers in the church. I think this suggestion would be grossly unfair for 2 reasons:

1) I am bidding “au revoir” as one who has been on the inside of and involved with this conversation for half a decade. I attended Brian McLaren’s church; I helped host the Church Basement Roadshow at my church for Tony Jones, Doug Pagitt, and Mark Scandrette; I’ve had several interactions with Doug Pagitt, someone I like as a person and who even introduced me to my wife and attended our wedding; and I am personal friends with the coordinator of the Emergent West Michigan cohort who is also a member of the new Coordinating Council for Emergent Village. In short, I am an insider who is simply leaving the inside.

2) I approach this effort as one who has pursued academic training in biblical studies and systematic/historical theology for nearly three years. I’m NOT trying to play the “education card” here, but rather offer this bit of information to give context for my leaving. I am finishing up the Master of Divinity (M.Div) and have begun the Master of Theology (Th.M) in Historical Theology. Specifically, I’ve spent a number of hours reading many primary theological sources from the Early, Reformation, and Modern Church, giving me a broad picture of the historical “movement” of church dogmatics. While I have been trained in a more conservative institution with Baptist roots, I am a free thinker who is familiar with the theological arguments from both sides of the aisle and historical progression of theology.

In his book, The Story of Christian Theology, Roger Olson says, “The story of Christian theology is the story of Christian reflection on salvation.” The same is true today. Over the next several weeks I am taking the liberty of taking two Emergent “theologians” to task: Doug Pagitt and Brian McLaren. Like Olson, I believe any theological inquiry is by nature soteriological, by nature reflection on salvation, which means the stakes are high. Both men have taken the opportunity to make public, written commentary on the nature of salvation, on the gospel, whether they know it or not; I doubt they are ignorant of their effort.

I would like to publicly, theologically interact with their own theological interactions.

First, I am posting a series based on a theological examination I undertook for my Early Church Th.M class called, “Pagitt and Pelagius: An Examination of a Neo-Pelagianism.” Many have suggested Doug Pagitt is dishonest about his Pelagianism, an early church teaching that was declared heretical. I thought it would be interesting to read all of Pelagius‘ known works (including an interesting, little read commentary on the Book of Romans) along side Pagitt’s. These posts will explore their writings on human nature, sin, salvation, discipleship, and judgment. It will drop Wednesday, February 10.

Second, I will post on the soon-to-be released book by Brian McLaren, A New Kind of Christianity. In it he discusses the top 10 questions facing the Christian faith. In some ways it’s a tell-all that should finally give his critics what they’ve asked and wanted for years: answers. From what I have read so far in an advance copy, this is truly going to be a line in the sand that will determine where people are in their understanding of the nature of salvation and commitment to the historic Rule of Faith, which is why I want to tackle it question by question. Along the way I will provide a theological assessment in order to understand his take on human nature, sin and rebellion, the nature of Jesus Christ, the cross and salvation, resurrection, judgment, and God. Look for this interaction at the start of March. (A friend of mine has already begun such an interaction, here.)

Recently, Doug Pagitt wrote on his blog (my apologies for misunderstanding Doug’s original point. He and others brought correction, so thanks!) and Brian McLaren said in a video that those of us who take them and others to task are held in bondage to fear and thoroughly un-loving; my motivation for analyzing the theology and beliefs of leaders within the emerging church is fear-based and inherently un-love. One word: ridiculous. I am not fearful; this has nothing to do with fear. In fact, the loving thing to do is in fact confront, prod, and question.

Why, then, am I doing this? Two words: Grand Rapids. I am disturbed and deeply saddened by what I see happening within evangelicalism, from both sides of the aisle (I could say as much about Rick Warren, Joel Osteen, and James Dobson as I will about Doug Pagitt and Brian McLaren. That will have to wait, though.) especially within my hometown.

Plenty of people are disaffected—even offended and wounded— by the type of Christianity offered here.

And they have bailed.

But here’s the thing: these disaffected Christians of my generation—and younger and older—still long for an intimate, rooted connection to Christian spirituality that is fresh, new, and vibrant. After leaving what they’ve known, they search after and pursue a “Christianity worth believing” and a “new kind of Christianity” that satisfies their establishment, traditionalism angst.

Yet while these fresh forms appear different and exciting, they are an “other” form from a forgotten age, a re-packaging of what has already been, what has already happened. Because most American Christians—even the ones from the Christian Mecca known as Grand Rapids—are biblically and theologically ignorant, they don’t realize what they are reading and pursuing.

So for Grand Rapids I write; for the Grand Rapids church I analyze in hopes it will better understand this other faith that is, in my estimation, foreign and inconsistent with the Church’s Rule of Faith and Holy Scriptures.

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Spoiler Alert! Throughout this post I give away some of the movie themes and toward the end of this post I give away the ending. If you don’t want to know what happens, read no further

A week ago my wife and I watched the engrossing movie The Book of Eli. It is an American post-Apocalyptic film in which the main character, Eli (played by Denzel Washington), is on mission to bring a book to the West Coast. That book turns out to be the last remaining Bible, the last remaining Bible, a King James Bible no less. Along the way another man, Carnegie (playes by Gary Oldman), seeks to recover the book to use it for his own powerful purposes.

Many things could be said about the movie, but six things stood out, three good and three not so good. First the good:

1. A consistent theme was the idea of walking by faith and not by sight. Throughout the movie the only thing Eli knew was that he was to go from the East Coast where he came to the West Coast where he was to complete his mission by bring the Book there. He did not know what he would encounter or how he would survive. He only knew he would (because of the promise of survival and provision from the Voice who told him to ‘Go!’) and that he had to do this thing to which he was called. The same is true for us on our own journey called Life.
2. On that note, his blindness plays a significant role in the ending: at one point Eli is forced to give up the Book he spent half a life-time defending and protecting to the man who wanted it for powerful, malicious ends. He finally gives it up, but when the villian goes to read it, it’s in brail. I can’t help but think of Jesus’ line, “Let those who have ears, here.” Likewise, “Let those who have eyes, see.” It was impossible for Carnegie to “see” the Holy Scripture because he did not have the eyes necessary to understand and interpret it, much less read it. I could be wrong, but that stood out to me. In the end we also find out he has memorized the entire thing, which leads to the last point and the ending.
3. One line from Eli got me: “I’ve spent so long guarding and protecting this Book that I forgot to live out it’s teachings.” WOW! How true for much of Christianity! How many of us have memorized large portions of the Holy Scriptures, yet it never finds itself pouring out of our life? Toward the beginning there was a point when Eli stumbled across a husband and wife who were being harassed and assaulted by a marauding group of savages. Eli hid behind a rock and did nothing, right after he slaughtered a group of people to protect the Book inside his bag. He could defend the Book but not the people the Book told him to love. Reminded me of the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Though the idea of defending the Text and caring for people in the process is not mutually exclusive (meaning we should only care about loving people at the expense of loving and defending what the Text says about how we are to live) it also reminded me how often we defend Scripture at the expense of other people.

Now for the three disappointing things:

1. The Book/Bible is portrayed as a weapon used by the powerful to gain/maintain authority and power over the weak. This was captured in Carnegie’s lust to get hold of this Book at all cost, including murder. Carnegie believed that what was contained within the Book could make him powerful and he could use it to control the masses in order to achieve his powerful aims. This is consistent with Michael Foucault’s deep hermeneutic of suspicion of Institutions that characterize our postmodern culture, including the Institution of Christianity. As I wrote elsewhere, our postmodern culture pictures the Church in the form of Christianity as a Warring Despot hell bent on using any powerful means necessary to bring all people and people-groups in subjection to their version of normalcy, which is through “The Bible says…” I am not suggesting this is true, but it does reflect our cultures institutional angst, much less Christianity angst.
2. The movie also suggested violence was justified to protect and guard the Book in order to carry out Eli’s mission. Throughout his journey to fulfill his mission, Eli killed or maimed in order to protect and defend the Bible. This movie, then, appears to be a scathing indictment against the ways in which Christianity has used violence to defend and promote its aims. While I understand many have done horrendous things in the name of Christianity (like the Crusades of a distant memory or abortion doctor killings of recent ones.), this is neither the Way of Christ or the Church at large. Though I could be misunderstanding this plot device, I am disappointed the movie would make this suggest Christians as individuals or the Church as a whole is simply about using violence (rather physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual) in order to live out its mission. Come on!
3. Finally, ending basically ruined the whole thing for me. It was quite disappointing, though utterly predictable (though as a committed Christian, I am confused why Denzel would even do this film!). As I’ve written in three other posts regarding the trend within even Christianity to dismiss the exclusivity of Jesus Christ. In the end, Denzel recites the Bible verbatim and a Curator of Culture (stationed at Alcatraz of all places) copies it by hand and reprints it using a Gutenber-style press. It was then brought to a book shelf and placed alongside three other books: the Tanak, Torah, and Koran. In fact, there was a space already created between the Torah and Koran, suggesting that the Bible is one more book among many, one faith-option among a myriad of options.This doesn’t surprise me in the least for Hollywood to produce a film that sends this message. It makes sense. Our culture believes that the Bible and Christianity is one option among many. I am surprised and deeply disappointed, however, that a self-proclaimed Christian would star in a lead role in a film that pushes this message. In his new book, “It’s Really All About God: Reflections of a Muslim Atheist Jewish Christian,” another self-proclaimed Christian and director of a Christian faith community, Samir Selmanovic’s, says the same thing when he writes, “to say God has decided to visit all humanity through only one particular religion is a deeply unsatisfying assertion about God.” (pg. 9) In fact, “As long as those of us who are Christians insist on staying enclosed in our own world of meanings, we have nothing more to say to the world. Without recognizing God, grace, and goodness outside of the boundaries we have made and without the possibility of expanding our understanding of God, grace, and goodness, we have come to a place where Christianity as we know it must either end or experience another Exodus.” (60-61).

It makes sense our world would deny Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world. I expect nothing less, to be honest. It doesn’t that self-proclaimed Christians do, which is what these Christians are saying when they say God is revealed outside of Christianity. Christianity is a straw-man, anyway. The point isn’t Christianity. The point is Jesus Christ and the Holy Scriptures (Old and New) tell of God’s complete Story of Rescue which points to Jesus Christ and Him alone.

A few weeks ago I wrote how I am taking a more hyperlocal focus with novus•lumen. While this post seems to be outside that new focus, it isn’t: I am deeply troubled by the trend within the local, West Michigan Church that is trending toward discounting and downplaying the exclusivity of Jesus Christ. In the interest of Inter Faith dialogue and religious accommodationism, it is not longer really about Jesus Christ, but It’s Really All About God: Reflections of a Muslim Atheist Jewish Christian http://www.amazon.com/Its-Really-All-About-God/dp/0470433264″>really about God, a generic way of accommodating any and all expressions of God, which is really idolatry.

As Karl Barth said in His Church Dogmatics, “[God] is wholly and utterly in His revelation in Jesus Christ.” (CD II 1:75) “Any deviation, any attempt to evade Jesus Christ in favour of another supposed revelation of God, or any denial of the fulness of God’s presence in Him, will precipitate us into darkness and confusion.”(CD II,1:319). Why can’t Grand Rapids Christians proclaim this with as much boldness and courage as Karl? Or the apostles? When they (specifically Peter) was confronted by the religious leaders of his day, this is how he responded:

Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them: “Rulers and elders of the people! If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He is ” ‘the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone.” Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.

Then the Scriptures say that these leaders were “astonished” when they say the courage of the ordinary man Peter. Courage is what we Grand Rapids Christians need, not religious accomodationism. Tolerance of other beliefs and faiths, sure. I have no problem with that. Not at the expense of courageously proclaiming that “Jesus is Lord” and God raised Him from the dead and exalted Him to His right hand. I only wish Denzel had the guts to make this proclamation. Will the Grand Rapids Church?

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A 4 week series based on a paper called “DIGGING UP THE PAST: KARL BARTH AS FOE TO THE EMERGING CHURCH ON THE DOCTRINE OF REVELATION.” Non-identified citations relate to Rollin’s It’s Really All About God CD equals Barth’s Church Dogmatics.

Series Posts
1—Introduction
2—“God Speaks”
3—“God’s Revelation is Jesus Christ”
3—Conclusion

CONCLUSION

Thanks to these emerging leaders, there is now growing confusion within the Church over both the extent to which we may know God and the manner in which He has revealed Himself. It is clear that Rollins understands God as hyper-transcendent and Wholly Other, believing He is far more hidden and concealed than Christianity acknowledges. For Rollins we can neither truly name God nor actually describe Him, because He is not really, genuinely revealed. Practically, this cashes out as what Rollins calls an “a/theistic Christianity.”

An a/theistic Christian can be said to operate with a discourse that makes claims about God while simultaneously acknowledging that these claims are provisional, uncertain, and insufficient; our questioning of God isn’t really questioning of God Himself but only a means of questioning our understanding of God. (98) By implication this would mean the revelation we have of God is not complete or real enough to understand, question, and know Him. This is why Rollins ultimately insists that speaking of God is really only speaking about our understanding of God, not God himself. (32)

Selmanovic, while acknowledging a real revelation of God that can be experienced by humans, believes that revelation is neither exclusively tied to Jesus Christ nor contained within Christianity. For Him, it’s really all about “God.” God is a vapid, generalized World-Spirit (This is the same language Fredrick Schleiermacher uses in his book, On Religion.) that is encased in all religions, rather than exclusively revealed through Jesus Christ, on the one hand, and the Church, on the other. He is unsatisfied with the assertion that Christianity testifies to God’s Story of Rescue and that rescue is exclusively found in Jesus Christ. In fact, the grace of God to which the Holy Scriptures and Church has testified to for generations isn’t even unique to the Christ Event or Christianity. Instead, it is independent from both and common in the world’s histories, stories, and religions. God is present everywhere and in every person and the Christian faith cannot insist on an exclusive revelation in Jesus Christ or the Church. In the end, it is the kingdom of God that reveals God to the world, a thing that is trans-religious and separate from even Jesus Christ Himself. It is a revelation in-and-of-itself which is the gospel, a thing uncontrolled by Christianity and Jesus.

Upon surveying the writings of both Rollins and Selmanovic, one wonders why they are self-described Christians and committed to Christianity at all. If God doesn’t really speak, why posture one’s self as a listener? If God is not wholly and exclusively revealed in Jesus Christ, why commit one’s self to Him and His Story? In response to both religious thinkers, Barth asserts God does speak and He is revealed in Jesus Christ. For Barth, there is real, genuine knowledge of God because God has chosen to reveal Himself to humanity. This divine self-disclosure is in such away that humans can really, genuinely know Him. Barth declares that there is a readiness of God to be known, a knowledge that is “clear and certain.” While the knowledge that humans have is not through their own ingenuity and gumption, but through grace, God is so made up that He can be known by us.

Though apprehending revelation does not happen through our own power and command, it does happen and has happened. Barth makes clear that ultimately Jesus Christ is the point at which the world truly knows God. While others may suggest God is best defined by Jesus Christ, Barth insists He is only defined by Jesus. God is utterly and wholly revealed in Jesus Christ; to know Jesus is to know God. In fact, the only way to know God in intimate relationship is through the grace found in and through Jesus Christ. Barth maintains that God’s grace is only and intimately connected to Christ, rather than other sources and other religious faiths. Finally, Barth warns of the danger of selecting competing centers of revelation apart from Jesus Christ, like the kingdom of God.

In His Church Dogmatics volume on The Doctrine of God, Barth makes clear, “Theology guides the language of the Church, so far as it concretely reminds her that in all circumstances it is fallible human work, which in the matter of relevance or irrelevance lies in the balance, and must obedience to grace, if it is to be well done.” (CD I,1:2) Here Barth acknowledges the difficult task of “theologizing,” of speaking of God and His acts. While that speech is fallible and vacillates between relevance or irrelevance, requiring a healthy dose of grace along the way, it needs to happen nonetheless. Every generation needs to cherish, protect, and contend for the Rule of Faith given by our Lord once to the Church. If not, there is a real danger of precipitating into darkness and confusion. It is clear from the writings of these two theologians and thinkers that a shift is occurring within the Church regarding an important piece of that Rule, revelation.

Though historic Christian orthodoxy has consistently held to the real, genuine knowability of God and that knowledge being fully and exclusively revealed (outside of creation) in Jesus Christ, there are some who insist otherwise. There is a growing number who shove God so far into the clouds that nothing can be concretely said of Him. Others still, and perhaps more dangerously so, find God outside Jesus Christ, insisting God is in every person, every community, every religion. God and His grace is no longer exclusively revealed in Jesus Christ, but possessed by other faiths, too. It is worth ending with Barth’s warning as a reminder for these and other theologians: “Any deviation, any attempt to evade Jesus Christ in favour of another supposed revelation of God, or any denial of the fulness of God’s presence in Him, will precipitate us into darkness and confusion.” (CD II,1:319) May this not be the end of these or others who claim Jesus Christ as Lord.

BIBLIOGRAPHY
Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics, vol I, 1: The Doctrine of the Word of God. Translated by G.T. Thomson. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1955.

________. Church Dogmatics, vol II, 1: The Doctrine of God. Edited by G.W. Bromiley and T.F. Torrance. Translated by T.H.L Parker, W.B. Johnson, Harold Knight, and J.L.M. Haire. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957.

Erdman, Chris. “Digging Up the Past: Karl Barth (the Reformed Giant) as Friend to the Emerging Church,” Pages 236-243 in An Emergent Manifesto of Hope. Edited by Doug Pagitt and Tony Jones. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2007.

Jones, Tony. “Introduction: Friendship, Faith, and Going Somewhere Together.” Pages 11-15 in An Emergent Manifesto of Hope. Edited by Doug Pagitt and Tony Jones. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2007.

Rollins, Pete. How (Not) To Speak of God. Brewster, MA: Paraclete Press, 2006.

Selmanovic, Samir. “The Sweet Problem of Inclusivism.” Pages 11-15 in An Emergent Manifesto of Hope. Edited by Doug Pagitt and Tony Jones. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2007.

________. It’s Really All About God: Reflections of a Muslim Atheist Jewish Christian. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2009.

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