Thursday, May 6, 2010

Grace Leading into Faith

Next week I will begin to probe the troubled waters of the Justification debate. However, I felt that one more post was merited to transition between prevenient grace and Justification.

The span of life between prevenient grace (which begins at, or even before, birth) and the graces that flow from faith, is a live area of debate. Some Christians (John Wesley among them) have produced writings that at least appear to claim that non-Christians can do nothing good, or do nothing to please God. These Christian thinkers in various ways, and to varying degrees, have claimed that prevenient grace is not sufficient for a human to do anything pleasing to God; faith is required for any such acts. Often these claims revolve around holiness, and the fact that any form of holiness must flow from an explicit faith relationship to God. Another characteristic of this line of thought is that there is a clear and impassible barrier constructed between holiness and the development of virtue, or any form of virtue ethics.

Well, there are quite a few claims here, most of which I either seriously question or outright reject. This line of theological reasoning often flows from a misguided desire to keep the speculations of philosophy separate from the truths of the Christian faith. There are fears (often quite justified) that if one allows philosophical concepts to be applied to faith categories, the Christian faith will be reduced to a stale philosophy. There is little else that I more ardently desire to avoid in my writing; however, I think the insights of virtue ethics (which predates Christian theology by several centuries) are too true and theologically applicable to simply write off or avoid. I will treat this issue in greater detail when I get to the topic of sanctification, but even now a few preliminary comments are helpful. This is because the process of developing virtue usually begins before Christian sanctification proper.

Even a toddler can understand certain moral issues. Hitting is bad, stealing is bad, sharing is good, obeying your parents is good. Virtue (or vice) is being developed long before any explicit faith is exercised. Now, since the development of holiness closely resembles the development of virtue (a claim I will better substantiate later when I get into issues of sanctification), does this mean that people can develop some measure of holiness even before they come to faith?

Although my thinking on these issues is still fairly plastic and open to change; I am leaning towards affirming this reality. Of course, there may be types or degrees of holiness only available to those who have come to lives of explicit faith. But is it realistic to say that no measure of holiness is present in a person who has not yet come to explicit faith? An example will clarify this dilemma.

Imagine two people. The first grew up in a remote and impoverished Hindu village. For her entire life she had never heard one thing concerning Jesus or the Gospel, yet she followed nearly all of Jesus' teachings as if she had. She loved her neighbor as herself, returned good for evil and daily sacrificed for those even more impoverished than herself. As a result she daily grew in virtue and became more Christ-like than the vast majority of Christians. She died through starvation because she gave her only food to a poor child who had none. Now imagine a second person. She grew up being spoiled in a wealthy home in an affluent American neighborhood. She gradually developed vicious habits learning to steal from those that had less than her and horde all of her plentiful material wealth. She got into a first rate college through her parents connections, but decided to neglect studying in lieu of partying. She continued faithfully developing vices, adding promiscuity and drug addiction to her already characteristic selfishness and avarice. Far from helping the poor she would steal from them whenever she could do so without being exposed as the monster she was certainly becoming. Her drug addictions and horrible character led to a loss of employment and an isolation from family and friends. Eventually she finds herself strung out on drugs and homeless. In and out of shelters, she never thanked anyone for their charity; daily she continued to grow in her viciousness. Eventually her drug abuse landed her in a hospital bed, dying. Bottomed out on her death bed, she is visited by a priest. Because she has bottomed out in despair, and now staring death in the face, she is finally able to see the abject evil of her ways. The priest leads this women to a death bed repentance and the first feeble acts of faith in Jesus Christ (just before she dies).

It is obvious which person died more virtuous. The question is, which women died more holy? If holiness is primarily about: being filled with love, having a rightly ordered heart, loving the right things in the right degrees, the development of mercy, the diminishment of pride, an utter desire to help others and an utter lack of (what my astute friend Kyle has termed) “self-curvature”; if holiness is about these things, then does not the first woman die much more holy than the second? It seems holiness is not necessarily perfectly correlated to explicit faith, but it does seem to be well correlated with the development of virtue.

It is at this point that I can offer an olive branch to the reticent Christian who wishes holiness to be the sole possession of those who have faith. Perhaps it would be best to say that the first woman’s holiness did in fact flow from faith, only it was an implicit faith (see my former posts on faith for more on this topic). Upon this realization things fall into place quite nicely. The first woman appropriates God’s prevenient grace (which she has increasing access to through her faithful acceptance and appropriation of it) in implicit faith and as a result grows in holiness throughout her life. It is not as if the first woman somehow does it on her own, apart from God. She does not even develop holiness apart from faith. She merely develops it apart from an explicit faith, a part from an explicit belief in who Jesus Christ is.

If I am correct in my reasoning (and I am certainly open to finding out otherwise) then the first woman experiences something not unlike sanctification. Perhaps there is a pre-Christian analog to this process that all Christians experience. I will leave you to consider that provocative tidbit until I arrive at the topic of sanctification in a few weeks. Next week we are on to the exciting topic of justification. Until then . . . peace.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Prevenient Grace: The Beginning of Salvation

Faith is not the beginning of salvation. Neither is justification. Grace is the beginning of salvation. So, now, after we have had our helpful detour in the realm of faith, we will go back to the beginning, to grace. Specifically, we will begin with prevenient grace.


Those of you who are not of the Wesleyan persuasion may not be familiar with the term “prevenient grace” (other traditions have similar or virtually identical analogs). This is literally a “grace that goes before.” This term encompasses the first graces offered by God to humanity. This is grace offered to people before they even know who God is. This is a grace that is offered to ALL of humanity. Every person from birth (before birth really) has some part in God’s grace through prevenience. This means that while all people have a part in sin (all are sinners) no one is completely depraved. Total depravity, while a pious concept touted by some Protestants, is ultimately a misleading term. No one is totally depraved. To be TOTALLY depraved one would have to be TOTALLY without God’s grace; but the reality of prevenient grace means that no one is completely separated from God’s grace. No one is COMPLETELY depraved, all have a measure of grace.


This doctrine is at once incredibly hopeful and incredibly humbling. It is hopeful, because this means that no one anywhere on earth, at anytime in history, has been completely separated from God. All are given grace sufficient for salvation. All are given grace sufficient to come to God in a saving way (even if only through implicit faith in this life (See my former posts on faith for more about this). This extremely hopeful truth also has incredibly humbling implications. Since all are recipients of God’s grace, no one can claim any independent moral merit. All good actions, even before one is aware of God’s existence, flow from God’s grace. Any ability to make a decision for the good and the right comes from the empowering prevenient grace of God. Indeed, the very existence of a human conscience (a universal reality, even if expressed in various ways in different cultures) is a chief expression of God’s prevenient grace. Think of how much unrestrained evil would prevail if not for this powerful human reality!


What does all this mean for salvation? First, it means that the beginning of the process of salvation, at least in the lives of humans (the ultimate beginning is in the infinite love of the Trinity, which I wrote about several months ago), is in God’s grace. Salvation does not begin with a work of faith, not even the relatively passive faith-act of accepting God’s grace. No, salvation begins with a generous showering of God’s grace. This grace is forced upon us whether we like it or not. God unilaterally decides to give all of humanity grace. We have no choice in the matter; we are helpless to avoid his graciousness. Later, we have the opportunity to reject or accept this grace; but at first, God works alone.


This is the ultimate beginning of salvation. Salvation is a lifelong process that begins with this first of graces. Next week we will look into how this prevenience plays out as life goes on, how it might lead to further graces, and how this all matches up with sanctification. Until then . . . peace.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

The False Protestant Dichotomy of Faith and Works

If you have been following my posts on faith (or if you go and read them now) you have an important key to unlocking the mysteries of salvation theology. The motor that drives the order of salvation, or ordo salutis, is certainly grace; but the power from this motor is put into action through the instrumentation of faith. Thus far, I have concluded that faith, beyond merely inspiring good works, actually includes them. As we continue to discuss salvation theology a governing assumption will be that “works do in fact play a part in salvation.” I will clarify the place of works further as we move forward, but first I would like to round out our initial discussion of faith by addressing one of the greatest theological tragedies in the history of the Church: the false dichotomy of faith and works.


Martin Luther was not just some crazy beer swilling monk, as certain Roman Catholic officials made him out to be. He was a devout Roman Catholic with a keen spiritual sensibility. And Luther was not simply nit-picking when he called on the Roman church to reform. There were real substantive abuses that had grown up through the Middle Ages in the Roman church. Among the worst of these abuses was the state of Roman worship and some distinctive practices that had arisen in the medieval church. Luther’s problem was not that he was over-reacting (these abuses were real and substantive) or that he simply wanted to form his own church (Luther was excommunicated and almost burned at the stake as a heretic); he desired reform and was forcibly removed from the Roman church. Where Luther went wrong was in his salvation theology.


More specifically, Luther linked certain deplorable practices of the Roman church with certain Roman doctrines that were actually quite orthodox and unproblematic. To use an admittedly broad statement, it was as if Luther looked at the abuses of the Roman church and said, “all this exists because we have allowed works to seep into our conception of faith.” Luther strengthened this view with a selective reading of Paul and an almost total discounting of James (He was quite close to dropping this book from the Canon altogether). This resulted in a deceptively simple and seemingly pious mantra, sola fides, or faith alone. Actually, Luther would have agreed that salvation is by grace alone through the instrumentation of faith.


Of course, on one level, Luther is right. Salvation is by grace through faith. The problem is that Luther’s definition of faith appears to be anemic. He falsely separated faith and works and opposed the former to the latter. Luther, and Calvin after him, identified works as that which follow from faith. Calvin’s famous quip, “saving faith is never alone” sounds catchy, but it is less than helpful. Although this view seems neat and tidy, upon closer inspection, it is deeply flawed and incoherent. And, if you have read my last few posts, you know why. Faith is a choice. Yes, it is empowered by grace, but it is a free decision nonetheless. As we have seen, beliefs, even beliefs as lofty as “trust” are, for the most part, completely involuntary. The only thing that can be truly voluntary is a work or an action. The decision of faith is not a decision to believe, it is a decision to do something based on a belief one already has. Where Luther and Calvin’s anemic view of faith forces a showdown between Paul and James, a view of faith that includes works produces an easy synthesis. Yes Paul, salvation is by faith alone. Yes James, faith is not mere belief, but includes works. Salvation is by a faith of “grace empowered works” or “works of faith.” If only Luther and Calvin could have separated the harmful practices of the Roman church from their harmless theology.


As it stands, Luther, Calvin and their Protestant progeny, have to varying extents adopted a false dichotomy between faith and works. As a Protestant I do recognize abuses of the medieval Roman church and I still disagree with some facets of the contemporary Roman church. However, unlike most of my Protestant brethren, salvation theology (at least the general bulk of it) is not an area where I lodge significant protest. Unfortunately most Protestants see this as the main battle ground between them and high church traditions. This perception rests on an incoherent view of faith and the piety that flows from it. And, after all, the Lutheran concept sounds good and pious, “Far be it from me to do anything to affect my salvation. I am merely a helpless sinner, I can do nothing. Salvation is completely a work of God. No work of mine contributes one iota.” This sounds good, but ultimately it is bad theology.


That a “faith of works” takes part in salvation is undeniable (unless you wish to go the way of determinists, in which case you have bigger problems). This does not mean that one earns salvation. It simply means that God will not save us against our wills. He wants His love to be freely accepted and returned in works of love. Works of faith are simply the instrumentation of Gods grace. We could do nothing without grace and God has decided not to save without works. Who are we to question God’s wisdom and demand that we have no part in our salvation, that we do nothing that contributes to it in any way? God saves by grace through faith and this faith includes works (which are empowered, but not completely determined by grace).


This is one area where Protestants need to recognize that our high church brethren actually had it right. We need to relinquish the false faith-works dichotomy (as pious as it sounds) and adopt a more robust and coherent work-of-faith dialectic. Our high church brethren still have flaws worthy of protest, but salvation theology (at least this part) is not one of them.


Until next week, when we dip into grace and the beginnings of sanctification . . . peace.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Faith Part V: The Works Righteousness Objection to “Faith as Existential Trust”

This week I will conclude my presentation of ‘faith as existential trust’ by answering a common, and quite serious objection concerning works righteosness. Please let me know what you think of this conception of faith, especially if you see any other strong objections.

Objection: Faith as Existential Trust = Works Righteousness

An orthodox Christian, especially a Protestant one, is likely to object, “Your description of faith is a degradation of divine grace. ‘Existential trust’ appears to be a euphemism for ‘works righteousness’.” This is a worthy objection and deserves careful consideration. Orthodox Christianity has always affirmed that salvation is not something humanity can earn, even with great effort. The grace of salvation is freely given; it is a debt ordinary humans could never pay. It is a debt that only the God-man, Jesus the Christ, can pay on behalf of humanity. Christians have traditionally affirmed that this gift of salvific grace is accepted in faith. Yet faith as existential trust sounds like a work one performs to earn this grace. I must admit that works are inherent to this conception of faith. On this model faith does not merely inspire good works, it includes them. Faith as existential trust is actually not genuine faith unless some type of work is present. To fully answer the charge of works righteousness, it is necessary to place faith as existential trust within the context of salvation theology.

D. Response: The Nature of Salvation

The “works righteousness” objection, while well intended, rests on a fallacious understanding of salvation. Many Christians (mostly Protestant) view salvation as a punctiform event that occurs when someone decides to relinquish their life to Christ. A person makes the decision of faith, accepts God’s gift of grace in repentance, believes that Jesus is the Son of God and accepts him as both Lord and savior. There are several Protestant variations, but they all make the same error: they claim that a person is saved in that one decisive moment. This, however, is a misleadingly narrow picture of salvation.

Let me suggest a description of salvation that is more in line with the tenor of Christian Scripture and tradition. Simply put, salvation is the transformation of a sinner into a holy Christ-like saint. It is a transformation of a sinner into someone capable of inhabiting heaven. This is indeed a miracle of grace, but it is most often a gradual miracle. Salvation is a processive rather than a punctiform reality. God gives grace (in the form of some mixture of beliefs and desires) sufficient for every single person to respond to Him in faith, whether implicit or explicit. As a person responds to God this person is provided with further grace. By receiving and responding in faith to each addition of grace a sinner is brought further along the path of Christ-likeness. This is the process of sanctification; it is the process of becoming holy, like Christ, through various works of faith, which are preceded and followed by divine grace. Is this works righteousness? I do not think so. Faith as existential trust is a process wherein divine grace is appropriated in works. Without grace a sinner would have nothing to appropriate and would also lack the ability to respond. God uses imperfect works of faith as the occasion for salvation; it does not follow that people earn salvific grace. This is simply the process God has chosen to bring people into His coming kingdom.

God is love. God desires a love relationship with every person. This means that He desires each sinner to be transformed into a saint capable of inhabiting heaven. He could unilaterally ‘zap’ them into this Christ-like state, but relationships are inherently bi-lateral. So God provides grace in various measures and seeks faith responses, which are works (often works of mercy or piety) that form an ever-strengthening relationship. Essentially, the process of sanctification is the process whereby God forms and perfects a God-human relationship. Salvation is complete when this relationship is perfected. In a real sense the process of salvation (building this relationship) is the prize of salvation (a perfected relationship with God).

Conclusion: Salvation by Works of Faith

If the preceding description of salvation is accurate, then the Christian simply cannot avoid the fact that works are inherent to faith. This is because I am assuming the Christian will want to maintain that salvation is by faith; yet as we have seen, salvation in its fullest sense is achieved through good works. Ultimately the ‘works righteousness’ objection rests on a fallacious faith-works dichotomy. Let me suggest that this dichotomy can be overcome in a ‘work of faith’ synthesis. I am not merely claiming that faith inspires good works; rather, I am making the stronger assertion that good works are the content of faith. With this distinction the apparent contradiction between Paul and James is mitigated. Salvation is by grace through faith alone and salvation is also by grace through works. This is because salvation is a passionate process of appropriation, whereby the sinner appropriates divine grace in works of faith. Without works there can be no appropriation and therefore no sanctification of the sinner into a holy saint. By demanding a salvation without works the misguided Protestant demands a salvation without content. This is because salvation simply is the sanctification process, which includes works.

If we are to accept a robust salvation, then an equally robust faith is requisite. Furthermore, if we are to avoid the problem of volition stated in prior posts then faith will need more than merely notional content. I have offered a plausible account of what that extra-notional content might be and just how little notional content might be required for genuine faith (whether explicit or implicit). Faith as existential trust and implicit faith fit nicely into a fully orbed and orthodox salvation theology.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Faith Part IV: First Objection to Faith as Existential Trust

Last week I finished discussing alternatives to “faith as belief” by presenting the strongest (and I believe correct) notion of faith: faith as existential trust. This is a faith with stress upon action and not upon notional belief. This conception of faith goes a long way in solving our original problem (concerning salvation via involuntary beliefs) but two formidable objections remain. This week I will raise and answer one. Next week I will raise and answer a final objection and thus conclude our foray into the world of faith.

A. Objection: Belief Snuck in the Back Door-

A major strength of faith as existential trust is that it does not require people to will themselves to believe that God exists, or that Jesus is God incarnate or that God is trustworthy. It requires much more modest notional content, namely: if God exists and Jesus is God incarnate then I should follow the teachings and example of Jesus and; acting as if Jesus is God incarnate is my best shot at achieving my ultimate purposes. However modest this notional content may be, one may object that faith as existential trust still requires involuntary notional content. People are still going to be held accountable for involuntary beliefs (albeit modest ones). So while the problem has been lessened with this more inclusive concept of faith, it has not been solved completely.
Existential faith still requires beliefs [A’] and [S], and both can be plausibly rejected by a large number of people. This is because, to believe that if [J], then I should follow Jesus’ teachings and example, or that acting as if [J] is true is my best shot at achieving my ultimate desires, one must first have at least a vague notion of [J] . There are millions, if not billions of people on earth who have never heard of Jesus or his teachings. Furthermore, there are many people who have heard of [J], accept [A’] but reject [S] . Often [S] is rejected because of the many faith options in our modern world. It is likely that people who have heard of Jesus and his teachings have also heard of at least one other plausible world religion. Given someone’s noetic structure, Christianity may not strike them as their “best shot”. One could respond that a modern person should perform faith experiments, sampling each viable option. But how long would these experiments take to be valid and how many people would perpetually experiment until death because of the many options offered? Ultimately the experimental option will only be viable for some of the modern people who have encountered Christianity. This leaves the rest of those who have encountered Christianity, and the few billion humans who have never had such an encounter, without any volitional recourse. How should we address these people, for whom explicit faith, even in the form of existential trust, is not an option?

B. Response: Implicit Faith

So far as I can see the only adequate answer to this objection is that there must exist a form of implicit faith that is sufficient for salvation. Ultimately this concept of implicit faith is best worked out in a fuller account of salvation theology; here a brief initial description will suffice. Someone who exercises implicit faith will be the type of person who will respond explicitly (in existential trust) when confronted with the teachings and example of Jesus given that they believe [S]. Such a person would hold belief [M’] which follows: if there is a legitimate higher moral power or authority, then I should obey it. This is an uncontroversial claim that even a staunch moral skeptic would accept. This minimal belief guides the person of implicit faith. They act according to their best approximation of what the moral law might be if a moral authority exists. This type of implicit faith could apply to someone who has never encountered Christianity, but it can also apply to the skeptic who has encountered the teachings of Jesus, accepts [A’] but rejects [S]. Given belief [S] they would exercise explicit faith, but since they cannot bring themselves to believe [S] they may exercise implicit faith by holding to belief [M’]. It is important to note that the driving force behind any faith (explicit or implicit) is desire. One must act on a desire to do what one should do, given your beliefs. Genuine faith and salvation status is not determined by belief, but by action. One is held accountable for what one decides to do given one’s beliefs. The decision of faith is a choice, not between beliefs, but between various actions aimed at satisfying competing desires.

This description of faith should lead into another, perhaps more common, objection concerning works righteousness. Next week I will state and address that objection and conclude our musings on the nature of faith.
Until next week . . . peace.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Faith Part III: Strong Alternatives

In the past few weeks I have introduced the volitional problem concerning faith, done some preliminary definitional work (concerning belief and action) and outlined a popular alternative to “faith as belief” which is “faith as trust.” As I mentioned last week “faith as trust” still does not really mitigate the volitional problem since trust is simply a special kind of belief. If we are to move beyond the volitional problem (i.e. If faith is belief, and belief is voluntary, it would seem God holds people accountable for an involuntary mental state) then we will need to construct a conception of faith which lessens or eliminates the non-volitional belief content requisite. Below I will offer a few more promising alternatives to “faith as belief.”

B. Faith as Hope

Louis Pojman has suggested that “hope” might serve as a substitute for belief. Pojman observes that many people desire to believe that God exists but cannot will themselves into such a state. This is the heart of our problem. If faith is equated with belief that God exists or belief that Jesus is God’s son, then it seems that the non-believer (or anyone) has little choice in attaining faith. Pojman’s alternative to belief offers such people a more volitional option. His concept of faith as hope is clarified in returning to our horse racing example (see last weeks post for the example’s introduction).


Let us suppose that Climacus is at the track again and that he has the same belief that Santa’s Little Helper is a 10 to 1 underdog in the seventh race. However, in this scenario, the official odds on Santa’s Little Helper are actually 100 to 1. Let us also suppose that Climacus has an extremely strong desire to attend a top culinary program, but he needs a $1000 tuition deposit by tomorrow in order to do so. His desire is so strong it would be a grave tragedy for him to wait another year in order to raise the money requisite for the deposit. Climacus has $10 in his pocket. Other than betting on Santa’s Little Helper, there is no other conceivable way to obtain the deposit in time. As the seventh race approaches, what do you suppose Climacus does?
It is not hard to predict that Climacus will risk his relatively unimportant $10 for the chance to gain admittance to the culinary program. But why would he do this? If we asked Climacus if he believed that Santa’s Little Helper would win, he would most certainly reply “no” (assuming our prior definition of belief). In fact, Climacus has a strong belief that Santa’s Little Helper will lose. Climacus places the bet while strongly believing that he will fail in his efforts. This action is not irrational or unpredictable when one takes into account Climacus’ strong desires. Remember, actions are only guided by beliefs, they are motivated by desires. Climacus is acting on his extremely strong desire to enter into the culinary program. Pojman characterizes this type of action as hope.

Pojman stipulates four qualifications for faith as hope. (1) For one to have hope in a state of affairs there must be at least a slim possibility of that state of affairs obtaining. I cannot hope to draw a square circle because such an action is impossible. (2) Hope precludes certainty; there must be at least some chance of failure. The probability for a state of affairs that is the object of hope must be between 0 and 1. (3) Hope involves at least some desire that a state of affairs obtain. (4) All this implies that one will be disposed to do what one can in order to bring about the state of affairs which is the object of hope.

Climacus’ bet at the track can be characterized by hope. Santa’s Little Helper had some chance of winning, but he was far from a certain bet. With this objective improbability pervading, Climacus acted on his great desire to do the only thing he could to bring about his hoped for state of affairs. He bet his $10 in hope of gaining the necessary $1000. Pojman presents this scenario as a possibility for the person of faith who lacks certain beliefs.

C. Faith as Hope and Acting ‘as if’

For the purpose of evaluating Pojman’s project we will work with the traditional Christian belief: Jesus of Nazareth was God incarnate (henceforth, [J]). Now if a non-Christian could come to believe [J] many other beliefs necessary for the Christian life would fall into place, such as a belief that one should follow the teachings and example of Jesus. We will refer to these beliefs as action, or [A] beliefs. Given the right desires (i.e. the desire to please God), [A] beliefs will probably lead to characteristically Christian actions. Although Pojman, if pressed, would admit that some beliefs are necessary for faith, in outlining faith as hope, he is denying that beliefs akin to [J] are requisite for faith. Strictly speaking, if Pojman’s characterization of faith as hope is valid, one need not believe that [J] in order to exercise Christian faith. However, this does not eliminate all notional content requisite for Christian faith. Pojman has eliminated the need for strong beliefs such as [J] but his concept of faith as hope still requires two lesser notional commitments.

The first lesser, but necessary, belief is a belief that is similar but not identical to [A], let us call it [A’]. The belief [A’] runs as follows: If [J], then I should follow Jesus’ teachings and example. This belief is actually implicit in the person who believes [J] and [A], but it is a much weaker, and therefore a much less controversial claim. My guess is that even most atheists hold to [A’]. The second lesser, but necessary belief, let us call it [S], runs as follows: acting as if [J] is true is my best shot at achieving my ultimate desires. Here, “ultimate desires” may refer to a variety of deeply felt wants depending on the specific context of the person.
A drug addict may have an ultimate desire to be free of her addiction. Someone else may have a more theologically reflective desire for eternal happiness. Still another person may have an ultimate desire to perfectly fulfill the moral law. There are many candidates for an “ultimate desire” but there are at least two clear constraints on such desires. First, ultimate desires cannot be grossly contrary to the morality of Jesus. It would be odd if someone could act in genuine faith in order to achieve an elaborate murder. Second, the person in question must not believe that they can achieve their ultimate desire on their own. Ultimate desires are, by definition, desires which make you feel your own inadequacy or insufficiency (whether perceived or real) with respect to a specific project.

D. Faith as Existential Trust

With these alternatives to “faith as belief” in play we are prepared to bring the conceptual threads together in a robust, yet more inclusive, model of Christian faith. First we will return to trust.

Luther’s concept of “faith as trust” has great potential, but in order to be useful, it must be brought out of the purely notional realm. If faith is something one can be held ultimately accountable for, it must be voluntary; which means it requires some action oriented content. Let me suggest that Christian faith should be characterized as existential trust. This is a form of trust, but the stress lies on the action and not the notional belief. An example will clarify.

Let us suppose I am sitting in my philosophy of religion class looking out of a three storey window at a large tree. There is a moderately sized branch a few feet from the window. Looking to shake things up a bit I exclaim, “I think that branch outside the window would hold me up just fine.” A cheeky individual opens up the window and replies, “Then why don’t you jump out onto it?” Here is where the distinction of existential trust comes into play.

There are two reasons that I might not jump out of the window onto the branch. First, I might not actually believe that the branch can hold my weight. In that case I do not have even a notional trust in the branch. My earlier assertion was an empty bluff. Perhaps upon considering the prospect of jumping out of the window, I realize this lack of notional trust for the first time. Second, I might have a genuine notional trust of the branch’s integrity, but I may lack a sufficiently strong desire (or any desire for that matter) to jump out of the window to test it. Perhaps there is no real gain in the action beyond me verifying my claim. I trust the branch fairly strongly, but I am not certain it will hold my weight. The small risk of falling three storeys outweighs the potential reward of proving my assertion correct. Thus, while I do have genuine notional trust, I still refrain from action. The act of getting up and jumping out of the window onto the branch is an act of existential trust. It is a trust with the accent on actions, not on beliefs. In fact, existential trust has the odd feature that one may exercise it without possessing a genuine notional trust. Although my act could very well be guided by a strong or moderate trust in the branch’s integrity, if I possess certain strong desires, a notional trust is not requisite for action. I may believe that the branch has only a 10% probability of holding me up; yet my desire to prove myself right, or look courageous, may be so strong that I jump out of the window anyway. In this case you could say that I lack notional trust (indeed I think it 90% likely that the branch will break under my weight) but that I exercise existential trust. This conception of faith as existential trust has some obvious affinity for faith as hope and faith as acting ‘as if’.

In jumping out of the window onto the branch in existential trust, I am acting in hope and I am acting ‘as if’ the branch will hold my weight. One major strength of faith as existential trust is that it is quite inclusive. One can act in hope, ‘as if’ something were true, whether one believes a proposition to be nearly certain or nearly impossible. The object of hope must only be less than certain and at least possible. Under this model a person may exercise genuine faith by acting as if [J], which only implies the much lesser belief [A’]. Under this model the stress is put on the action and not the notional content of faith. Although some notional content is requisite, it is minimal, well short of [J] or beliefs akin to [J]. Strictly speaking one may act in faith, acting in hope ‘as if’ Jesus is God incarnate and ‘as if’ God is trustworthy, without even believing ‘that’ Jesus is God incarnate and ‘that’ God is trustworthy. Faith as existential trust has this odd, but appropriate consequence: one can strongly believe in the nonexistence of God, and still exercise faith in Him. This is possible due to the motivating force of an ultimate desire and the guidance of the minimal belief structure of [A’] and [S].

At this point I am guessing that many Christians of various flavors will have some objections. Feel free to raise them in the comments section. Next week I will raise, and answer, what I think are the two most formidable objections to this conception of faith.

Until next week . . . peace.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Faith Part II: Definitions and the Alternative of “Faith as Trust”

Last week I introduced the chief problem with conceiving of faith as mere belief. Essentially it boils down to this: faith is volitional (it is a decision) and belief (in large part) is not. Faced with this dilemma one has two options, either: (a) redefine faith in a more volitional manner or (b) retain the definition of faith as belief and admit that faith is not volitional (and that we are held eternally accountable for a “decision” we have no control over).

Faced with this dilemma I have chosen option (b) and will begin pursuing it below. Towards the end of this post I will begin to introduce alternatives to “faith as belief,” but first it is necessary to do some preliminary definitional work.

Definitions and The Humean Model of Action

Language surrounding faith is often multivalent. In order to discuss faith and its components productively it is essential to start with clear definitions. For the purposes of this study the term “belief” will refer to a confidence in the truth of a proposition. Unless otherwise stated, belief will always refer to “belief that” something is true (i.e. corresponds to reality). A belief need not be certain, but it must be more probable than not. To believe that something is true is to think that there is greater than 0.5 (or 50%) probability that it is the case. A brief example will clarify.

Let us suppose that Climacus is at the race track and has two beliefs. Climacus believes that the horses will run today and also that ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ is a 10 to 1 underdog in the seventh race. Climacus’ belief that the horses will run today is fairly straightforward; it has a high probability. Barring a freak electrical storm, the horses will be running. His belief that “Santa’s Little Helper” is a 10 to 1 underdog is not as simple. Strictly speaking, Climacus does not have a ‘10% belief’ that Santa’s Little Helper will win’. Such a low probability belief would be no belief at all. In this case Climacus has a belief that the odds on Santa’s Little Helper are accurate. Let us assume he knows the odds makers and thinks that they are both trustworthy and knowledgeable. Thus, Climacus does not have a belief that Santa’s Little Helper will win, but he does have a moderately strong belief that the odds are accurate.

With this concept of belief in mind we can move to the definition of an action. I will use the Humean model of action, which follows:

Desire + Belief = Action

In this model, desire is analogous to an engine and belief is akin to a steering mechanism. Desire motivates an action (it is a want for some as yet unobtained end), while belief (or beliefs) determines what steps an agent takes to achieve her desired end. It is clear that both elements must be present for an action to follow. I may have a belief that a tree will fall on my house if I chop it down; however, an action will not follow in this case because I have no desire to ruin my roof. Conversely, I may have a desire to fly without mechanical aide, but this desire will not incite me to flap my arms. This is because I have no belief that such flight is possible. An action is a volitional movement motivated by a desire (or desires) and guided by a belief (or beliefs). With these definitions in place we are ready to address the problem of faith.

Alternatives to Faith as Belief

In this study I assume the traditional Christian position that a response to God in faith is requisite for salvation. If faith is mainly, or solely, belief, and belief is involuntary, then a morally objectionable consequence follows: people are held accountable for involuntary mental states. If we are to reject this consequence then we must admit some other content to the concept of faith. I will now begin to suggest alternatives, beginning with “faith as trust.”

Faith as Trust

Martin Luther put forth “trust” as an alternative to mere “belief” at the time of the Reformation. Luther’s faith as trust adequately answers the objection raised in James chapter two, where even demons are said to have belief in God. Luther, like many others, stressed that faith cannot be mere belief that God exists. Faith is a trust in God. While this conception of faith is certainly superior to a mere belief that God exists, it does not adequately address our problem. Ultimately the concept of trust is purely notional in content. Trust is merely a specific type of belief, namely the belief that one can depend upon a person or thing. Trust in God may have more devotional cache when compared to mere belief in God’s existence; however, trust does not advance a person one iota beyond purely notional belief. Hence the volitional problem we have already outlined remains.

I will end the post here. Next week I will outline some stronger alternatives to faith as mere belief, including one that I think solves our volitional problem.

Until then . . . peace.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Faith Part I: The Problem

In a way I am jumping the gun. If one wishes to keep a strict chronological approach in relating the ordo salutis (order of salvation, or the ordering of the steps in the process of salvation) then one needs to begin with grace. Indeed the oft repeated reformation mantra sola fide is inaccurate and does not really get at the meat of what the reformer Luther wanted to say. If we had to center on one element the correct mantra for salvation would be sola gratia (grace alone). If we allow two elements in our description of salvation, then, and only then, does faith come into the picture. Salvation is by grace through faith. In other words, the main emphasis in salvation is on God’s grace and He has arranged things so that this grace is salvific when appropriated through faith. Nothing of what I have just said should be controversial to an orthodox Christian. Protestants as well as Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox should be able to agree at least upon this (it is the exact nature of this appropriation of grace that is the bone of contention).

So, why am I starting in the middle, with faith, and not beginning with the true foundation of salvation: grace? Well, for starters, faith is often so misunderstood. This is especially true in Protestant circles. But beyond this, a right understanding of faith can crack open salvation theology and an inadequate understanding can stall even the most eloquent ordo salutis. For good or for ill, a person’s understanding of faith will color nearly every other element of their paradigm of salvation. And for ill (not good) issues surrounding faith have been the largest divider of Protestants and high church traditions. Although neither side is without blame, I have found Protestants to harbor particularly incoherent and inaccurate views of just what faith is. The great thing is, a lot of these issues can be cleared up with just a little dabble into philosophy (really just a little dabble into common sense once philosophy has done the preparatory analytical work). My goal then, is to show how Protestants and high church traditions alike can come together on the nature of faith. I will do this through a careful analysis of just what faith is and how it works within the economy of salvation (or within: how salvation is actually worked out). But before we get to the nature faith and its place in salvation theology, we must first delineate what faith is not. And in order to do this we must begin with a problem.

The Problem: Faith is a Choice, Belief is Not

What could be simpler than salvation by grace through faith? Where exactly is the problem? The problem arises when we consider some common conceptions of what faith is in concert with what philosophy (or just some common sense reflection) reveals.

Salvation begins with God’s grace. Historically, Christians have maintained that in order to be efficacious, this offer of grace must be accepted in faith. Hence, the common Christian belief that salvation is by grace through faith. It has also been commonly assumed that this faith is a choice. In other words, a person can either reject or accept God’s salvific grace. So far, so good.

Naturally the question arises, “What is the nature of this faith decision?” The traditional answer has been that one chooses to believe when one exercises the decision of faith. However, taken in the modern, purely notional sense, mere belief appears to be inadequate to account for the content of a faith decision. A decision is volitional by definition, but recent philosophy has concluded that belief, for the most part, is an involuntary state. Just think about it for a moment and you will realize by virtue of common sense what philosophers have labored in analytical detail to prove. Suppose, for example, that I see a basket of fruit before me on a table full of apples and oranges. If I actually look at the table (and my eyes and brain are working properly) I will involuntarily form a belief that I am seeing a basket of fruit. I cannot simply decide to not believe that I am seeing a basket of fruit. Nor is it as if I say to myself, “hmmm, do I wish to believe that I am seeing this basket of fruit? Yes, yes I do. I think I will form that belief . . . now!” The same thing applies to other less obvious beliefs.

For example, let us say that you ask your spouse to wash the dishes. You come home and they are not washed. Your spouse tells you that she (or he) forgot. Now you will form one of two beliefs: either they are telling you the truth, in which case they really forgot; or they are lying, in which case they purposefully avoided the chore for some reason. You will have a bunch of evidence at your disposal in order to form a belief. You probably have some sense of how honest your spouse is and if they have ever lied to you before. You can read the body language of your spouse to detect the truthfulness of her (or his) statement. You may take into account if your spouse is particularly lazy, or if your spouse often forgets things. At best you may be able to decide not to consider all or any of the evidence. However, once you do consider the evidence you do not have a choice concerning belief formation. You will simply form a belief based on the evidence automatically and involuntarily. You cannot choose to believe the truthfulness of your spouse anymore than you can choose to believe that you are seeing a basket of fruit. You simply either believe it or you do not.

Here is where the problem arises. Most Christians, indeed most people in general, have assumed that one cannot be held accountable for an involuntary act or mental state. Thus, a tension results between a faith that is assumed to be volitional and a faith that is assumed to be primarily (or solely) notional (i.e. solely belief in content). One assumption will have to be relinquished: either faith is not volitional (and people are saved/condemned based on an involuntary belief) or faith is volitional and not primarily or merely notional (about belief).

A Way Forward

So this is the problem as it stands. In a few short paragraphs I have shown why “faith as belief” (at least belief in the modern, purely notional sense) is inadequate. Some Christians may go their entire lives without realizing this, and that is fine. I do not think you need to know the exact philosophical nature of faith in order to exercise it in a salvific fashion. However, this conception of faith is incoherent (upon careful consideration) and has led to some judgment of other Christians (especially the high church variety). In the coming weeks I will attempt to identify and evaluate some alternatives to this view of faith. Ultimately, I hope to construct a robust vision of Christian faith that stresses its active-volitional nature while downplaying the notional (belief oriented) content. It is this notion of faith that I feel, when properly understood, has great potential to bring Protestants and high church traditions together on issues concerning salvation theology.

Until next week . . . peace.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Salvation: The Big Picture

I now wish to begin a series of posts on salvation theology. Before I delve into any of the specifics; I first want to give a broad overview of what salvation is. In brief, one could sum up salvation by saying that it begins and ends with the Trinity.

The Beginning of Salvation: The Trinity

Before anything was created there existed the Triune God from all eternity. For all eternity the persons of the Trinity gave and received love in a differentiated but united community. One God in three persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God did not need to create humanity or anything else, so that He might have something to do or someone to love. He was completely fulfilled in His eternal communion of love.

However, that communion of love did overflow into creation, including human creation. Unfortunately human creation fell. It is clear enough form everyday experience that we all have fallen short of the moral law. Most essentially, we have fallen short in love: we have not loved God or others as we should have. As a result of this Sin, we are not in right relationship with the Trinity.

Salvation is God bringing us back into the life of the Trinity.

Let me repeat that. Salvation is GOD bringing us back into the life of the Trinity. God is salvation’s initiator, and it is to the Triune God that salvation aims as its end. Salvation is not our prerogative and it is not our achievement. The entirety of the Scriptural narrative can be read as God seeking to bring humanity back into the life of the Trinity (and humanity resisting nearly every step of the way). In fact, there was only one distinct point where humanity did not resist salvation at all: Jesus Christ. It is through Christ that we have a way to God.

What does it mean to come back into the life of the Trinity?

The special status of Christ makes Him the key to salvation. He is quite literally the only way we can be brought back into the life of the Trinity. In subsequent posts I will strive to lay out the specifics of how we can enter into the life of the Trinity through the mediation of the Son by the power of the Holy Spirit. These specifics will include the nature of faith (both explicit and implicit), justification and sanctification among other things. For now this pithy summary will set forth the parameters of the discussion:

Salvation is entering into the life of the Trinity. This means coming back into right relationship with the Father, by being united to the body of Christ, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Next week: the nature of saving faith. Until then . . . peace.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Trinitarian or Unitarian worship?

In the coming weeks I hope to delve into salvation issues including the precise nature of saving faith, justification and sanctification. First, however, I want to say a bit about Christian worship and its relation to the Trinity.

Christians Worship a Trinity

My last post sought to highlight the implications that the Triune nature of God had for religious dialog among Christians. Now I want to ask what implications the Trinity should have for Christian worship.

Christians worship a triune God: one God in three distinct persons. Christians worship the Father. Christians worship the Son. Christians worship the Holy Spirit. For high churches and many liturgically oriented Protestant churches, this is obvious. The shape of the liturgy, as it has come to us through the rich Christian tradition, is unmistakably Trinitarian. Prayers are addressed to all three persons of the Godhead. Creeds acknowledge each person. Each person is integral to worship and each person receives worship. For liturgical traditions, at least in form, the worship is Trinitarian.

The Unitarian Danger of Non-Liturgical Worship

A problem arises with certain Protestant traditions that have departed from traditional liturgy. In many Protestant services the sermon, not the Eucharist, is the highpoint of worship. Creeds are absent and prayers are largely extemporaneous. This departure from traditional liturgical forms does not necessitate a departure from Trinitarian worship. However, it does greatly increase the risk. This type of worship often puts extra pressure on the sermon and the songs/hymns to achieve a properly Trinitarian form. Unfortunately, these elements in many Protestant churches fail to highlight or even acknowledge the triune nature of God. The result is that many Christian congregations, who are theoretically Trinitarian in belief, worship in a functionally Unitarian manner.

This Unitarian worship is most evident in contemporary worship music. Robert Parry, an astute Pentecostal theologian, ran a statistical survey of Trinitarian content for nearly 400 songs coming out of the Vineyard churches (an extremely influential contemporary Protestant force in worship). What he found was that many songs were addressed to a generic “Lord” or “God.” When one person of the Trinity was singled out, it was overwhelmingly Jesus who received the nod. An extremely small portion of songs mentioned the Holy Spirit at all, and almost none focused on the Spirit exclusively. Vineyard songs do not represent the totality of contemporary Protestant worship; however, they are fairly representative. Thus, when non-liturgical Protestant churches select worship music (if they are not extremely discerning) they will most likely create a worship music experience that is functionally Unitarian (most often worshiping either a generic “Lord” or “Jesus”).



What’s the big deal?

Besides the fact that all Christians theoretically believe in a Triune God, it is immensely important to worship in a Trinitarian fashion. If God is Triune then we Christians should worship Him as such. We should care about worshipping Him as accurately as possible. Humanity was made in the image of the Triune God. Since we have all fallen into sin, God has continually been trying to get us back into right relationship with Himself. This right relationship is expressed in its highest form through worship. Worship is where we as creatures approach our creator. We as the redeemed Church approach our Redeemer. We as the continually sanctified body approach our Sanctifier. Worship is the closest we get to heaven on earth. It is when we corporately express our right relation of adoration to God.

Through proper Trinitarian worship Christians can come closer to a realization of right relationship with the God who is triune.

What can we do?

My main advice for non-liturgical contemporary churches would be to adopt traditional liturgies. They are ready made triune vehicles of worship; you can’t go wrong. If this is not a possibility or simply not desired there is still plenty that can be done.

1. We should encourage our music leaders and song writers to write songs with substantive Trinitarian content, making sure not to neglect the oft forgotten Holy Spirit.

2. Even songs sung to a generic God can be redirected to one of the persons through a prayer that comes before or after the song.

3. Prayers should be informed by thoroughly Trinitarian language.

4. Other elements are ripe with possibility, including a Trinitarian benediction. Even the very structure of the service can evidence the Trinity.

5. Sermons should explicitly teach the Trinity and use implicitly Trinitarian language.

6. Perhaps a contemporary worship styl;e could be infused with a hymn every now and then. Charles Wesley wrote an entire hymnal (nearly 200 hymns) solely on the Trinity. \

A vision for Trinitarian worship

Essentially worship is when the body of Christ on earth, the Church, joins the Son in his continual worship of the Father in heaven, through the power of the Holy Spirit. The Son is our high priest and main worship leader. He is constantly interceding on our behalf, making our worship acceptable to the Father. Christians, through the power of the Holy Spirit, join in the worship that the Son has offered for all eternity. Ultimately, worship is offered to the Trinity through the facilitation of the Trinity. In inviting us to worship, God is inviting us to join the eternal loving communion of the Trinity.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

What if Truth is a Person?

In building on my last post concerning proper religious dialog, I now seek to address how dialog partners should approach truth.

The Impetus for this Post

The impetus for this post again, begins with me. When I first became serious about Christianity I approached the truth as something to be sought out ruthlessly, quickly grasped and then immediately propagated. This resulted in me taking truth as an object, wielding it bravely and clubbing others over the head with it.

At seminary we often hear of the tendency (active since the Enlightenment and the advent of modern thought) to approach truth as if it could be completely possessed, controlled, manipulated and scientifically dissected. To a certain degree this is true. I can apply the rules of logic to an argument and identify fallacies. I can run a statistical study on the attendance of baseball games and come up with a pretty accurate picture of attendance on the average spring day. But can I approach religious, specifically Christian, truth in this manner?

While many religious people would say yes (especially fundamentalists who are profoundly influenced by a modernist paradigm); I answer no. This is because, for the Christian, truth is not primarily an object, but a subject. Truth is a person.

Truth is a Personal

More accurately, truth is a group of three persons in one Godhead: the Trinity. All Christians believe this, but many have not adequately let the implications of this doctrine guide how they approach truth and present it in religious dialog. If the truth is most essentially personal, that means that you cannot simply approach it like you would a book of distinct facts, that can be appropriated separately in any context. If the truth is personal, then one will not be able to grasp it by reading a book. One will actually have to enter into a relationship with the truth. In a substantive way, no one can fully realize Christian truth without it becoming personal. In short, if the truth is personal, then it cannot simply be related and appropriated objectively. Christians must have a more subjective approach to truth.

What does this mean for dialog?

If Christian truth is personal and must be received personally, this has clear implications for how we go about pursuing and presenting the truth in dialog. Below I have listed a few of these implications:

1-Revelation is not a textbook; rather, it is a witness to the Trinity.

Christians do not worship the Bible, they worship the persons whom the Bible gives witness to: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Bible is a revelatory account; written by those who witnessed the mighty acts of the Trinity in history. The Bible is a product of many relationships: (i.e. the relationships of faithful writers to God). The main purpose of the biblical text is not to provide Christians or Jews with a textbook on life. The main purpose of the biblical text is to introduce people to, and remind people of, the Triune God.

In dialog, this means the Bible is not wielded as a weapon. It also means isolated verses cannot simply be lifted out of context and appropriated as a premise in some theological argument. More work, and more engagement with the personal God of Israel is required.

2-At the center of Christianity resides two utter mysteries.

Christianity thrives on paradoxes. These are contraries held in creative tension. Blessed are the poor, yet we should continually work to eradicate poverty; the first shall be last and the last shall be first; in the Eucharist we eat the body and blood of Christ, yet the elements do not taste like flesh and blood. The two chief paradoxes of Christianity center on the Trinity. The first is the structure of the Trinity itself: 3 persons, 1 God. In an important way Christianity actually asserts that 3 = 1. Far from being shoddy math, this equation relates one of the central mysteries of Christianity. Father, Son and Holy Spirit are all part of one God, sharing the same substance but distinct in person.

The second central paradox in Christianity is the incarnation: when God became a man. Specifically one person of the Trinity, the eternal Son, descended infinitely and became a temporal man. God became a man and then died. God died, and for his enemies no less! This is a mystery beyond all clumsy modernist grasping.

What does all this mean for dialog? Simply put, it means we should approach truth claims with extreme humility. The existence of revelatory scriptures means we can talk about God. God’s mysterious nature means that here is much we can only assert with caution and much we cannot speak of at all. So in dialog, we can express our theological convictions, but we should be extremely cautious about what we essentialize and say we know with a high degree of certainty. Also, when we do encounter theological views that are deficient, we should be careful not to label adherents of these views as ignorant, irresponsible, illogical, etc . . . Also, we should realize that because God is so mysterious, there may be a range of acceptable theological positions. Not all inaccurate theology is harmful, and some errors only result in relatively minor harm. Consequently, some battles are simply not worth fighting, especially if fighting those battles will burn more bridges than it constructs.

In brief, the utter mystery and paradox at the very heart of Christian doctrine should instill in us a great humility and encourage us to pause before making any dogmatic claims to certain truth.

3-The Truth is a Community.

Christians believe that before anything else existed, the Trinity simply was for all eternity. The Trinity is an eternal community of three persons constantly giving and receiving love. This means for the Christian, the most basic fact of existence is not material, but moral. More specifically, the basic essence of all existence is love or loving community. Furthermore Christians believe that all people are created in the very image of this Trinity. Thus, it should come as no surprise that people are inherently communal beings and flourish most when they are giving and receiving love in community.

Christians also believe that people have fallen through sin. Essentially the majority of the biblical narrative is the story of God trying to bring all of humanity (and creation in general) back into the loving communion of the Trinity. Part of being a Christian is attempting to realize this loving communion now, as much as we can, on earth. This si the coming kingdom of Christ.

What does all this mean for the pursuit of truth in dialog? One thing I think it means is that the truth should be pursued both within community and in ways that promote community.

-Ideally, truth will be pursued from within community. This is why Christians should take seriously the insights of other denominations (through ecumenical dialog) and other times (through the rich Christian tradition). So many errors and poor examples of dialog result in a small group (or an individual) isolating themselves from the rest of the church universal.

-Ideally, truth will be pursued in a manner that builds community rather than tears it apart. At the very least we should be extremely suspect of any rhetoric that divides more than it brings together and builds up. Far too many times Protestants have sought to delineate differences where there are only misunderstandings, or have asserted major differences where only minor quibbles reside. To be sure, there are plenty of real differences to be found within the Christian fold. However, let us suspend our judgment and create a space where community might develop and apparent differences might dissolve.

Until next week . . . peace.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Civil Discourse in the Religious Sphere

Since this is a critical blog addressing issues in theology, I thought it would be good to begin with a post or two on acceptable and unacceptable manners of religious discourse. But at once I run up against the difficulty that few persons have been more guilty of the sins I wish to enumerate than myself. I have been guilty of every single discourse deficiency that I will soon denounce. Perhaps I have such a keen awareness of communication failures now, because I have made so many in the past. So let me disabuse any readers of the notion that I am speaking from some unassailable position of righteousness. I have been uncharitable and overly contentious in dialog and debate. I seek now to clarify some parameters of fruitful dialog so that I myself might follow them throughout my blog.

The impetus for this post

The impetus for this post lies in three areas. First, the general state of religious and theological discourse in the public forum (I am thinking mainly of the United States here) is atrocious. Unfortunately, my own Protestant sisters and brothers appear to be some of the worst offenders. One need only view a variety of televangelist programs to realize that religious discourse is often too contentious, uncharitable and just plain ineffective. Second, while I think my own theological institution has for the most part succeeded in fostering fruitful dialog, I have witnessed several disturbing displays (including class discussions, public dialogs and online forums). This is especially disturbing in the rare instances when faculty members are involved. Third, and foremost, when I first became serious about Christianity, I fervently loved truth (as I still do). Unfortunately I was also a horrible communicator and therefore did “the truth” a huge disservice nearly every time I entered into a debate with another person. In short, I was a jerk.

A few things to keep in mind to produce and facilitate fruitful discourse in religion

One could easily write a lengthy textbook on proper conduct in contemporary religious discourse. The following is a list of helpful points to keep in mind when entering into religious discourse with anyone and in any forum. This is not meant to be comprehensive and I certainly reserve the right to return to this topic often.

1. Critical thinking and the pursuit of truth is not an excuse to be overly contentious.
In the scholarly and unscholarly evangelical circles in which I run, the most common excuse for overly contentious dialog is that the offender was simply pursuing truth or engaging in critical thought. At times phrases like “the ruthless pursuit of truth” are lauded in theological and irreligious circles alike. But something is wrong here. Should we really be “ruthless” in our pursuit of truth? I would say not. Christians have a paradigm for speaking the truth and it is not ruthlessness; rather, Christians are called to speak the truth in love. Now the truth may still hurt, but it will not be meant to hurt or degrade. It will not be stated in unnecessarily contentious and uncharitable ways. And it will always be stated with humility.

Ultimately, in lieu of a comprehensive textbook, what qualifies as overly contentious will have to be decided inductively (through assessing many individual examples of dialog). Some of the guidelines below will help to distinguish proper, civil and fruitful dialog from improper, ruthless, and ineffective dialog.

2. Watch your tone
Unfortunately, much of today’s religious dialog has only one volume (SHOUTING) and one speed (fast). This often results in unfruitful tones such as: annoyed, angry, irate, triumphalist, condescending, etc . . . Effective communication will always be mindful of tone and its overt and subtle consequences. This is especially important in religious dialog when people are dealing with substantive, and often sensitive, issues.

3. Effective communication means that you have to care about both content AND delivery
If your goal as a communicator is to simply state the truth, then you need not worry about delivery at all. However, if you wish to actually communicate that truth in such a way that other people will actually listen to you (and even possibly be convinced of your position) then you will need to care very much about your delivery. Simply put, if you speak the truth and no one hears you, you have not engaged in communication of any kind and certainly not fruitful religious dialog. Oftentimes religious leaders or theologians (both amateur and professional) will speak “the truth” in such a contentious way that only the most ardent ideologue will listen (either to affirm their already held positions, or in preparation to rebut the point made). Many more silent observers will simply stop listening to the speaker or will stop taking her or his points seriously. The speakers tone can effectively nullify their message, even if it is the truth.

Here is where many conservative Protestants will often interject, “But look at how Jesus spoke to the Pharisees and look at how Paul entered into heated debate with those preaching a false gospel.” This is a valid insight. It shows that there is a time and a place to engage in heated rhetoric. Unfortunately, these same Protestants often ignore a few qualifiers, such as:
1-The heated dialog of Jesus and even Paul is only a small portion of their overall communication in biblical materials.
2-The biblical materials only represents a small portion of the overall communication of Jesus or Paul. It would seem safe to assume that Scripture highlights a disproportionate number of heated encounters in order to make certain important points.
3-You and I are not Jesus, or even Paul. Perhaps some of their heated debate comes from a legitimate authority that you and I do not possess.

So, please, do not hide behind the lame excuse, “well at least I proclaimed the truth!” Yes you did, and very few people received it. Congratulations, you just participated in a futile exercise of speaking to the wind.

4. But lots of people are engaging me in fruitful dialogue
At this point our representative religious ideologue will object, “But lots of people are listening to me. I know this because whenever I speak in this way I get a lot of response.” This may be proof of effective dialog. More likely it is proof of the sad truth that overly contentious debate and bold uncharitable claims will attract a lot of superficial attention and chatter. Never mind that you are discounting the large number of folks who have stopped listening to your diatribes. The people left listening often only listen so they can respond in an equally contentious manner. What results is a lot of heated chatter and posturing, very little genuine listening and learning, and most often no changed minds. This is painfully obvious on the internet where all those involved in a dialog (a debate really) will start and end with the exact same positions, having learned very little of the opposing side. What is worse, the debate has actually polarized the sides and resulted in much ill will and harmful bias. This is not fruitful dialog and is a poor example of communication.

5. If you shout people might not hear you
So to briefly summarize, “if you shout people might not hear you.” Fortunately the converse is also true, “if you quiet your voice you may gain many more genuine listeners.” It is true that blowhards often gain a lot of attention and adherents. It is also true that they do little to advance mutual understanding or fruitful discourse of any kind. This is usually accomplished by someone who is a bit quieter, a bit slower and therefore more respected. Such people do not ignore differences or even deficiencies; they simply do not seek to harpoon others with them. Too often I have seen Christians claim that they are speaking the truth in love when the gleam of anger is all too clear in their eyes. We need more people who care about truth and about being winsome communicators.

6. Clear a space for synthetic dialog
Readers should not misunderstand me at this point. I love debate (indeed I love it too much) and it is certainly a legitimate form of communication. Debate has its place and time; however, that place is not EVERYWHERE and that time is not ALWAYS. Debate should be an occasional form of religious communication, not its default. If I could only make one change to the state of religious discourse in the United States in general, and among evangelical Protestants in particular, it would be to reduce debate oriented speech and make more room for synthetic forms of discourse.

Religious commentators are notorious for turning every discussion into a debate. I have actually witnessed a respected Protestant scholar turn what was supposed to be a chance for ecumenical dialog and mutual understanding into a heated debate. This was my chief problem when I first converted to Christianity. All discussions had to be debates (in fact the two words had become synonymous in my mind) and all debates had to come to their end (either the other side conceding my point, or the other ending the debate because they did not care enough about truth). How wrong and harmful I was in my speech and thought.

Synthetic, cooperative and learning oriented communication is both viable and fruitful. I have heard Protestants claim that they already know where they agree with others (such a Roman Catholics) the real area of live interest is the differences between the traditions. First, let me suggest that the majority of Protestants do not know the true extent of similarity that they share with Roman Catholics (especially some of the Wesleyans I have had the pleasure of conversing with). Second, sometimes similarities need to be carefully uncovered. Oftentimes Protestants and Roman Catholics use the same terms in very different ways and so end up talking past one another. If more of our dialog was centered on cooperative learning rather than heated debate, we would more readily notice these instances. Third, there is great value in dwelling on similarities and suspending debate when we encounter differences. Part of being charitable is temporarily (or permanently) suspending debate or critique when one first encounters a difference. This creates the space necessary for genuine understanding to develop. In this process, opposing sides might discover that the difference was only apparent, or that the difference is not as crucial as they once thought, or, perhaps more rarely, that their own tradition is the one that is in the wrong.

So much could be written on religious dialog. I have only given the barest of indications here towards what constitutes fruitful dialog and what should be avoided. For anyone who has actually read to the end, I would be interested in your thoughts concerning any of the above points.

Until next week . . . peace

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A Christian Alternative to the Unchristian Comments of Pat Robertson Concerning Haiti

A major focus early in this blog will be issues surrounding civil discourse and fruitful dialog. I will usually update on Sundays, but I thought that I would supply this example of a Christian who had a healthy response to Haiti, rather than the un-Christian rhetoric uttered by Pat Robertson. We can thank Pat for showing us what not to do; now here is an example of a genuine Christian response.


Fr. Tom Hagan (Courtesy of San Damiano Foundation)
Haiti -- First Person

Editor’s note: Fr. Tom Hagan, 68, a member of the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales, is founder of a nonprofit organization, “Hands Together” (handstogether.org [2]), which began its work in 1985 when Hagan, then a chaplain at colleges in southeastern Pennsylvania, started taking students on visits to Haiti. Out of those visits grew a network of supporters and a respected relief organization. Hagan moved to Port-au-Prince in 1997 where he oversaw a program he had begun in Cité Soleil, that city’s largest and most desperate slum. The program is widely recognized as one of the most effective educational and health organizations in that area.

Tom Roberts, NCR’s editor at large, contacted Hagan by e-mail and asked him about his experience during the quake and his assessment of the future of Haiti and the church in that country. His response arrived by e-mail Jan. 24. With minor editing, the e-mail follows.

Dear Tom:
Sorry my first response did not get through! My setup here is a laptop on the ground next to a very loud electric gas generator and with what seems to be a thousand young all wanting to use the computer. I will try again.

This past week has been terrifying. I have lived through all the violence in Cité Soleil over the past years: being shot at and having guns held to my head, seeing people close to me down here shot, but none can compare to the horror of the earthquake. Doug Campbell, who has been with me for over 20 years and serves as the executive director of Hands Together, had just arrived. We were to meet with the archbishop the next morning about the situation in Cité Soleil.

Doug and I were sitting down talking when the quake began. I tried to get under a table that was only a few feet away but the floor was moving in the opposite direction. I felt totally disoriented and fortunately one of the young Haitians ran back into the house and grabbed me and Doug. There was almost total darkness and I could hear screaming but also singing, which seemed weird to me, but I was told that the people were praying.

I looked up at the rubble that was our house for volunteers, seminarians and street kids. I was bleeding from the head and there was a terrific pain in my back. Doug ran back into the rubble to try and begin to pull people out, but then we heard cries that the gas was leaking and that there would be an explosion. One of the street kids, Makenson, who was shot and is now blind and whom I found two years ago literally in the street, was crying out to me beneath all the rocks and debris but we could not get to him. [Makenson was eventually rescued.]

It was then that two ex-gang members from Cité Soleil ran up to me and carried me to Mother Teresa’s nuns. When I entered their compound they were already treating the wounded and they bandaged me up and I hobbled back to my place.

Throughout the night we held vigil, and slowly we were able to get everyone out except two of the 21 seminarians who were living with me in the house. I remember vividly that night seeing people who were burned badly by the electric wires that had fallen everywhere. The next night we were all huddled outside when we would experience a very large aftershock.

It was very frightening. On the same night at about midnight we began to hear screaming and people were screaming that there was a tidal wave coming. We all started running, and for the next hour I, along with thousands of people, were moving to higher ground. We did not know what to believe.
I am ashamed to say that I am still frightened, but now I am also experiencing a feeling of being overwhelmed. When I go through Cité Soleil now I see the eight schools that we built (schools that were totally free and the only free schools like that in the country with more than 9,000 kids). I walk past what was once our clinic that took care of 20,000 -- again the only totally free clinic in the area. I see what once were the houses that we built for 150 people and the elderly projects for over 800. I look at the large kitchen area where people prepared hot meals each day for over 10,000 -- and all of it is gone.

There is also the problem of the destroyed prison, from which over 4,500 men were freed. They all escaped, and there is a side of me that is happy that they did. Many of them should never have been there. I would visit the prison every week and there were as many as 600 in one holding cell and many of them had never even been in front of a judge.

Unfortunately, some are psychopaths, and all of them are now back in Cité Soleil.
I just came from offering four Masses. Each time I would finish, another crowd would come up and ask for Mass. This is a real comfort to me and more than ever I realize that I, we, can’t survive if we do not simply put everything into God’s hands. I’ve got to work hard to practice this.

Tom, you ask about the church. Well, the people here lost a very holy man [Archbishop Joseph Serge Miot] and a very good bishop, especially one who was supportive of me in Cité Soleil. He was a good friend, and I will miss him greatly. But the church will survive.

It is during a time like this that I find myself very proud of my church. Everywhere you go, you will see the church reaching out now and helping the people. The Missionaries of Charity (Mother Teresa’s nuns) are just amazing. The people here have a great faith. When I go to Cité Soleil now, as I do every day, I see few tears. The people have an amazing resiliency. Maybe it is because they have few material possessions and apparently their happiness does not depend upon possessions. The sight of a sunset means more to them that their possessions. What makes me most proud of my church is that the message we give the people is that they have enormous worth in the eyes of God and that they are infinitely loved and that this terrible disaster is in no way a punishment from God.

I recently said this in a sermon and the people all stood up and began clapping and cheering. I had to ask the altar server why they were clapping (I thought that I had said some thing wrong because my Creole is not good) and he said, “Father, no one ever tells them that they have worth.”
The Catholic church will survive, and I am sure of it.

But the longer I am here, the less I know. I really could not speak with much authority about what will happen with the government or even what would be the best way to help the people. I also struggle a great deal even being here. I feel strongly that we can do a great deal of harm with the best intentions when we begin to be the benefactor.

Even with all this aid coming in, we must go slowly, and every step of the way we must include the Haitians in the decision-making.

During these very difficult days, I find myself really loving these people. These are the same people who endured the slave ships, a horrible system of slavery, and who would be the ones who would eventually defeat Napoleon. They would continue to suffer greatly but they have a strength that is remarkable. I am humbled by them and privileged to be with them.
Pray for me. Take care!
Tom Hagan, OSFS

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The High Church Protestant: The Blog’s Rationale and Focus

What is a High Church Protestant?

The title (or the new title) of my blog is significant of what type of Christian I am. Some of you may be saying, “High Church Protestant”, yeah we’ve heard of them, they’re called Anglicans. While I certainly lean the Anglican way in many respects, I mean High Church Protestant to serve as a more general category.
I consider myself to be a Protestant insofar as: (a) I recognize certain abuses of the late medieval and renaissance Roman church, (b) I recognize certain theological errors of the Roman church both historical and current (especially concerning ecclesiology) (c) I draw on certain theological insights of Protestant theologians such as Luther, Calvin, the early Anglicans and especially John Wesley. I am however much more charitable, and I believe more just, than many of my Protestant brethren when it comes to assessing the Roman and Orthodox churches. This is where the “high church” title comes into play.
I am “High Church” insofar as: (a) I greatly value the beauty of the liturgy and the centrality of the sacraments to the Christian life, (b) I reject much of what I perceive to be grave theological errors on the part of some of the reformers, especially Luther and Calvin, and especially the incoherent dichotomy between faith and works, (c) I reject the overly critical and uncharitable spirit my Protestant sisters and brothers have often bore towards those Christians in the higher church traditions, (d) I take Church tradition quite seriously and reject any “Bible alone” mentality.

Blog Focus

As I enter my last semester at what could properly be referred to as an evangelical Protestant seminary, I seek to write a blog about theology. More specifically, this blog will focus on the many theological hang-ups and errors that some Protestants, especially some evangelicals, espouse. This focus is a good one because it has much potential to clear away the uncharitable baggage many Protestants bring to all things that are perceived as either high church, secular or liberal. I hope to demonstrate the possibility of expanded dialog between Protestants and many disparate groups (both Christian and not). It is a somewhat unfortunate blog focus because it will often take a critical tone towards my Protestant sisters and brothers, whom I greatly love and admire. However, through the criticism I hope to highlight the best of Protestantism and what it might become. Broadly construed, I believe the best of Protestantism is closer to Rome and Constantinople than many think. The best of Protestantism is also much closer to so called divergent theological movements than many think. This Protestant outlook rejects the errors and abuses of Rome but reclaims the rich tradition that high churches still espouse. This Protestant outlook engages theological movements instead of recoiling from them in disgust or muddying the waters of dialog with hyperbolic diatribe. This Protestant outlook actually begins to slough off the name of Protestant because it defines itself more positively by the rich tradition of the ancient Catholic Christian Church than it does negatively against more provincial sections of it. This Protestant outlook strives to be both Catholic and Orthodox without being more provincially Roman or Eastern. At its best it is the Church Universal, Christ’s body on earth, building his kingdom and practicing his sacraments, until he comes again.