World Destruction!

Happy end of the world everyone!  Total annihilation never felt better.

I'm going to go get a drink now.  Perhaps toast Harold Camping on his next apocalyptic miscalculation.

In Christ(ianese)

Self-actualization is a long process. Maslow was well-aware of the difficulty in achieving an individuated selfhood. One must climb, as it were, "up" the eschelons of self-awareness until, by degrees, one is a fully realised, fully actuated person with all personal potentials being utilised. It is an existential reality everyone must grind through, and it is often fraught with vast pains, remorseless joys, and common experiences between those extremes.

More, our interactions with others add to, or detract from our self-actualization. However, our self-realization and self-actualization happens, on a fundamental level, alone. No-one else self-actualizes for another.

With that in mind, I cannot help but call into question the teachings I was attendant to at a Pentecostal church recently. The subject was, essentially, identifying who you are and becoming fully you. The catch was that in order to be who you fully are, you have to be that person "in Christ".

Well, far from being a religious critic, I must admit that this phrase put me off straightaway. I was ripped out of my nostalgia by a sudden sense of urgency; urgency that perhaps I had just listened to an interesting preamble about self-identifying and self-actualizing, but that such a disposition could only take place "in Christ".

What does the phrase "in Christ" even mean? Are we somehow enwombed in this man, Jesus, people call "the Christ"? And given that last question, how can we relate to the preposition in Christ, when what is being suggested is that we are included in his title of 'Christ', or 'Messiah'? Linguistically, the phrase simply doesn't make sense. What does it mean to be "in Christ"? No-one really knows, but we acknowledge it on a notional level, we give the connotation a favourable nod; we feel all soft inside, as if we've been rolled in a giant warm-fuzzy. But the phrase means literally nothing on a practical level. It is wanton Christianese.

Particular idioms like "in Christ" should be expected in Christian assemblies, however. In-groups have their own fashionable expressions, their own method of meaning that out-groups simply cannot partake in. And it's not as if the inability to partake of in-group lingo is forced on out-groups; I'm sure this particular Pentecostal church would like nothing more than to swell its ranks. The difficulty is that in-group lingo is fixed against the sensible notion of making what one says intelligible. Or, as Paul put it in 1 Cor. 14:10-11,

"Undoubtedly there are all sorts of languages in the world, yet none of them is without meaning. If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and he is a foreigner to me."

So while it is that in-group lingo is fashionable and expected, I can't help but wonder why any church would allow it if the net result is that outsiders feel alien? The church's mandate, as far as I've been educated, is to make Jesus the Christ understandable, convincing, persuasive, graspable, intimately familiar, not vague, imperceptible, elitist, and contradictory. And it is phrases like "in Christ" that do just that: remove understanding from outsiders and render communication bleak.

Another catch-phrase was thrown at me when I asked a couple questions of the leaders. The phrase "prayed-up". I was struck by the overt insincerity of this nugget. In essence, the phrase "prayed-up" implied that one can simply go to the prayer-bar, in much the same way one would go to a gas-bar, and fill their spiritual tank. Simply drop to your knees, pump the spiritual sagacity in, and then carry on your merry little evangelistic way. Rubbish and poppycock!

Look, if the context of a lesson is going to be about how a person can self-realize and self-actualize, then importing confusing mumbo-jumbo about how that can happen in somebody else as long as they are filling up on prayer (spiritual gas, that is) is contradictory and inane. There's no sense trying to convey large concepts like self-realization and self-actualization by speaking about them in connotative language that means literally nothing to outsiders, and is internally contradictory, even when examined from the perspective of an insider. Why add confusion if what you're trying to do is bring clarification? Lingo should never trump the content of the lesson. When it does, as it did in the case of my experience with this Pentecostal group, all that's left is to state firmly, "do not speak unless you can improve upon the silence." In other words, shut-up.

Dear Christians,

It may come as no surprise that gossip is not greeted warmly in Scripture. For those of you who may be having trouble with the concept, the words of James are ringingly clear:

"...the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell. For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so. Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and salt water? Can a fig tree, my brothers, bear olives, or a grapevine produce figs? Neither can a salt pond yield fresh water."

Yes, that dirty little wagger that rolls your food and picks between your teeth is a "world of unrighteousness" that sets "on fire the entire course of life" and is itself "set on fire by hell." It is, metaphorically, the instrument of hypocrisy, deceit and death.

The question now becomes, what is gossip? Simply stated, it is "idle talk or rumor (sic), [especially] about the personal or private affairs of others." Frivolous talking and rumouring about other people's personal lives is an active poison spat out by serpentine tongues. For a Christian, the allusion to being a snake should give pause for concern, yes? Afterall, who was it that hissed out his venomous words in the Garden? Just who's image and likeness are you living, anyway? Think about it.
But that only deals with direct gossip. That is, purposeful, knowing talk about other's lives that you don't have any business chattering on about. Then there's indirect gossip, or what I like to call "pastoral gossip." This is the kind of gossip that slithers its way into conversations because someone has a 'Christian concern', or 'needs advice', or 'would like an objective perspective', or a 'third-party look at the situation'. Let me save you the work of figuring out why this is not acceptable: because until you have approached the person you are 'concerned' about, you have no business involving anyone else. At all. Ever. Period. Your business, should you have a concern, is to lovingly go to the person you're concerned about, and express yourself. Meeting at restaurants, or on the telephone, or whispering through darkened windows, from car to car, or in the privacy of a confessional to keep people up-to-date, as it were, on why so-and-so needs 'prayer' is still gossip. When you disclude the person who is the focus of your thoughts, you are a gossip.

Quite simply, that makes you a betrayer, a hypocrite. When that sort of thing is done on a mass scale, say, for political purposes, we call it treason. People are executed for treason. We don't execute people for gossip, but people who gossip certainly execute friendships, trust, potential relationships, and on-going opportunities. If you measure your concerns by clauses such as "this is confidential," or "I'm not supposed to say this, but..." you are a gossip. You are more satanic than godly at that moment.

So, two pieces of advice before you start chin-wagging and jaw-flapping (directly, or pastorally):

1. Go to the person(s) you are wanting to talk about. Then talk with that person(s). After that, unless you have permission from that person to talk with others, shut yer festerin' pie-hole.
2. Since gossip seems to be the bar for many Christians, try raising it to something better (like honesty, just for shits and giggles. You can graduate to honesty as a principle as you are capable), instead of living under it as if it were a roof.

Gossip is something that the religious and the non-religious alike are guilty of. It just seems to be the rampant modus operandi, the on-going and preferred trend amongst Christians. Being a Christian doesn't cede the moral high-ground to a person with a concern; it doesn't award pastoral status to whoever is within earshot; it does absolutely nothing to endorse an open-mouth policy where others' personal lives are a possible subject. In fact, being a Christian should mean shutting-up, being respectful of other's privacy, and taking care to observe (according to Christian beliefs) with even more diligence than non-Christians that you are direct with the person in question. Anything less puts you more on level with Cain than Abel.

Can't See Reality for the Spiritual

Christians sometimes pray for God to make something come about in their lives that they are completely capable of bringing about themselves (e.g., gaining muscle mass, losing weight, quitting smoking, finding a first-rank parking spot, etc. and ad naseum).

It's an attitude of neglect, I personally think. I think people speak those kinds of prayers because they have a confusion that salvation offers a special 'spiritual entitlement'; one that is removed from the normal strictures of real life. It's almost as if Christian belief in the salvation offered by Christ, once accepted, must mean we can mine God for all our desires now because why wouldn't He want to operate in a fundamentally different alignment to reality? Especially when it comes to 'me' -- whoever 'me' is, and whatever psychological parameters that go into such a histrionic mindset.

Perhaps my view is cynical. Even if it is, it also reflects a sadness I feel when in the company of Christians who think in such ways. I do have to wonder what sorts of things s/he has been taught about God, the ways He empowers us -- most specifically, and wonderfully in the imago dei -- and what our real responsibilities are as stewards of creation. Why create us in His image, give us incredible attributes, skills, and abilities just so we can pawn off our responsibility to use these gifts in the vague and unfounded hope that God will do it for us anyway? I mean, really, when you weigh the cost of having to apply yourself against all the common barriers of life, why not let God step in and veto your chances to strive? It's certainly cheaper to let an omnipotent being do something for you than to have to make an effort on your own, hey?

I do feel sad that, on this point, Christians seem to miss reality for the spiritual. The maxim "can't see the forest for the trees" comes to mind. That causes me to wonder that if reality encompasses spirituality, then why is the spiritual life of the Christian suddenly the overlapping reality? At what point can we get away with the (ill)logic that the part (spirituality) is greater than, or somehow definitionally more important than the whole (reality)? And then why do we feel somehow entitled when we need something from the whole of reality, but only go to part of reality to suss things out?

I just don't understand this particular line of (un)thinking.

On Women In Ministry

Gregory Boyd. He's a man of great learning, insight, and dedication. A former atheist, he became a Christian in 1974, and eventually gratuated from Princeton Theological Seminary with a Ph. D. He's a formidable philosopher, a top-notch theologian, author of many scholarly and popular books, a former professor of theology, and currently a pastor at Woodland Hills Church in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Lately, I've been reading through some of the material on his site, Christus Victor Ministries, and came across a very important article I think every Christian should read. It concerns women in ministry. It's a hot-topic, to say the least, and has been for quite some time.

Now, given my background in conservative Lutheranism, I was once a staunch supporter of the 'men only' policy toward ministry positions. Women, I believed, were wonderful, beautiful, and spiritually gifted individuals who -- for reasons that were suspicious to me then -- were disallowed any ecclesial teaching office. Since I was ordained a Rev. Deacon, and was training in seminary to become a pastor, I wasn't prepared at the time to challenge the status quo. Most especially because it would mean expulsion from seminary, and a definite case for church discipline where I was serving.

On a more personal note, I am married to a tremendously erudite, and sagacious woman (Sarah, co-author on this blog) who, despite her many and profound giftings, was prevented from using those giftings (which extend beyond her natural ability to nurture our children, and cook food) because of her status as a woman. To Sarah's credit, I probably wouldn't have done as well as I did at seminary were it not for her incisiveness, natural knack for making theology practical, and her superior ability to converge disparate, abstract pieces of information. In many ways, any success I have ever had as a teacher, church servant, and communicator is due to Sarah's ministrations to me, and our family.

Given what I've just written -- that I was always suspicious of the 'men only' dogma, and that Sarah has many extra-domestic talents and giftings -- it became a matter not just of curiosity, but of necessity for me to start asking important questions like: why shouldn't my wife, who is a more capable teacher than me, have the opportunity to teach? What biblical warrant is there for Sarah to have to suppress her God-given abilities? And wouldn't that be contradictory? Or, as Sarah once put it, "why would God give me these gifts and then make it so that I'm disallowed using them?" These kinds of questions apply across the board, really: why would God create women to have the same spiritual and intellectual gifts as men, declare their total equality to men (Gal. 3:28), and then proscribe their use of those gifts? Is God capricious? Is He fixed on torturing women's psyches? What's the deal here?

As I said earlier, it became a matter of necessity to have these questions answered. And the answers didn't come fast, or easy. In fact, I agonized over this issue for many years. I was torn between wanting to keep my loyalties to those men of God that I loved (Rev. R.A. Ballenthin, and Dr. William Mundt), the Scriptural declarations that seemed so precise and clear (esp. 1 Tim. 2:11-15, and 1 Cor. 14:34-35), and the fantastically gifted woman I married. All of this came to a head when I took two years away from church (a wonderful catharsis for my wife and I, but not something I would necessarily prescribe as a common course of action).

During those two years in absentia, I grew more sensitive to the arguments proposed by my wife, and other scholars that certain passages of Scripture were more culturally relevant, or contextually skewed due to lack of appropriate cultural references in our present day. I didn't want to bite this bullet, as it were, because it seemed so hackneyed, so oft-parrotted that I didn't want to re-visit the philosophical implications it presented; I had already dismissed such ideas in my seminary days. God's Word was God's Word, and it contains no errors. And in this case, I still believe that God's Word contains no errors: it says what it means about women in ministry. The problem was that I wasn't understanding what Scripture meant by what it said. So, because of that, I was forced to chew back my (then) cynicism on the issue of 'cultural relevance', and re-visit the issue.

Fortunately, my wife and I came into contact with a house-church couple who invited us to participate with them in worship from the home. Eager to have fellowship, we accepted the invitation. But it quickly became apparent to us that this couple was living out to a much greater, and to a much more shameful level, the same 'men only' policy that I was struggling with. As I observed them and asked some questions, their understanding of Scriptural warrant for silencing women reflected the extreme logical end of the same understanding I had ruefully carried about for years: women were out-of-place teaching in church. For them, however, the extreme expressed itself in complete and utter disallowance of women to speak at all during times of worship. In fact, the one time I witnessed this couple's teenage daughter speak, both her mother and father quickly turned on her and launched Scriptural condemnations at her as if they were taking target practice with a handgun. She was shamed, the father was red-faced with anger, and her lively eyes dimmed into sadness.

So how was that experience 'fortunate'? Simple: it put a bold-faced stamp on the absurdity of over-extending ancient cultural imperatives into present-day scenarios. To put it differently, I learned that day that it is of paramount importance to re-examine our cultural differences now that we're 2000 years removed from the ancient biblical world. Sometimes there will be consonance. Sometimes there will be startling, and important differences. Seems like a simple, even obvious fact, doesn't it? But try learning that from the position of a pastor-in-training, who wants nothing more than to do God's will, and take care of his family. It isn't easy. And it took a total break from the pursuit of that vocation, that lifestyle, to even begin to have the opportunity to freely explore such an issue.

But I did. And here is where I now stand: I find it absurd that women are excluded from ministry positions. Not only that, I find the notion of religious 'authority' to be so illusory, and filled with shoddy, unbiblical reasoning that I can no longer justify the typical dyed-in-the-wool treatment of "no woman should have authority over a man" (1 Tim. 2:11). That pericope was an imperative leveled by Paul to a particular church, in a particular locale, at a particular time experiencing difficulties with certain rebellious tendencies. Paul, being the educated, and highly intelligent man that he was, I am quite certain of it, would have made a universal statement to all believers if it truly were God's will that no woman at any point in time, anywhere, and for any reason was to have a voice in the assemblies of God. It would be the height of imbecility and insanity to suggest that Paul intended a universal application of the 'men-only' policy when he quite consistently breaks his own policy in several other places in Scripture! It would also be egregious to state that Paul attempted a universal silencing of women when he wrote such passages as 1 Tim. 2:11 and 1 Cor. 14:34-35 when he was intimately aware of the ministry of women to Christ, Christ's elevation of women, and other Scriptural writings that showcase the importance of women in ministering capacities.

No. Paul intended to be particular in his application of the passages I've noted. To say otherwise, would be to misrepresent one of Christianity's greatest figures, and declare God a liar. Are you willing to go that distance? I'm not. I'm also not willing to make arbitrary, unbiblical distinctions the likes of which allow for women to minister in churches but only in nursaries, or to female 'tweens'. If you've agreed with me so far -- that women are equally ministers with men -- then such a cockeyed distinction is just another way to subvert the potential capacities of women in the church.

For some extra, more clearly explained material on this subject, let me refer you to Gregory Boyd's article "The Case for Women in Ministry". It's an excellent read with a lot of fantastic points, and straight-up exegesis.

Hellvangelicalism

It came to my attention today as I was watching The Root of All Evil -- a documentary by famed atheist biologist Richard Dawkins -- that religious fanaticism in America is indeed a sick and grotesque parody of the message of love, and non-judgmentalism that Christ demonstrated. Dawkins brought to light the oppressive, fear-based tactics of a particular group of fundamentalist evangelicals who caper about under the name Hell House Outreach. This particular brew of insanity purposefully sets out to frighten people -- children in particular -- into belief in God.

Really, it's not unlike the equally distorted, and fear-mongering tactics of Canada's Heaven's Gates Hell's Flames. A shameless, base production that feeds off of people's confusion, ignorance, and (like has been said already) fears.

I do have to wonder what drives a person to the point where they find it morally acceptable to make a circus display out of separation from God? And why is it permissable to promote hellfire and the cruelties of the demonic world to particular target audiences -- more specifically, children 12 and up? Are they mature enough at 12, suddenly, that depictions of callous hatred, malevolence, torture, and brutality are reasonable psychological tools to win their minds over to Christ? Is that what Christ said would display the love of God the Father? Are we looking to fashion the theater after the Inquisitions? And why do these kinds of productions always present good and evil, God and the devil, heaven and hell in such simpleminded, hackneyed ways? Haven't we exhausted the market on binary notions of good and bad, light and dark, God and the devil, etc.?

I put this kind of stuff on level with Fred Phelps and his band of bigoted butt-holes.

Masquerade

I was just reading an article on The Christian Post and realized that I was getting quite irritated. Here's the reason why: I don't like it when snobbery masquerades as concern. I'm pretty sure everyone would agree with me on that point. If you're going to be concerned, make sure you're not simply contriving a concern; it comes across as disingenuous.

Here is an example of what I mean.

"And as Jesus had done, many are going out and reaching to those labeled by society as the worst of sinners."

The trite sentimentalism of such a comment blows me away. First of all, which society are we talking about in this over-generalization? The religious society? Or the secular society? If we say the 'religious' society is labeling the unsaved as the 'worst of sinners' then we can be sure that the religious society is in serious need of a theological overhaul. At what point did the religious society suddenly forget the fact that they are people saved by the same grace of Christ that these 'worst of sinners' needs? At what point were, and are the 'religious' societies not themselves the 'worst of sinners'? I get the impression when I read Scripture that Jesus had a few things against the religious societies of His day (Pharisees, Saducees, etc.). St. Paul remarked that he was the chief of sinners, the foremost sinner of all (1 Tim. 1:15, 16)! So if the two greatest religious figures in all Christendom recognized the rotten sinfulness of the religious, who are these societal rejects discluded from the religious camp? And how are the religious somehow sub-par in the 'sin' department?

On the other hand, if we say the 'secular' society is labeling some the 'worst of sinners', well that would just be strange, since secularism doesn't make room for religious concepts such as sin. Well, perhaps with the exception of archery. But I'm pretty sure that's not why missionaries are going out sharing the gospel: to save archers from a bad shot!

Aside from evaluating the superficiality of the comment I quoted above, let's dig a little deeper. What exactly did Christ do with the people around Him? Did He label people 'sinners'? He certainly referred to them as sinners -- He referred to all of us as sinners! There were no eschelons amongst sinners. So unless you've got your head twisted in Roman Catholic notions of a hierarchy of sins, you probably recognise that Christ simply reached out to people around Him, and loved them. The 'sin' wasn't the focus, but His love was. Or, to put it another way: it was more important to Christ to give Himself to others than to label their status apart from Him.

And because Christ's focus was to love, we are totally off-base the instant we point our finger at someone else and label them the 'worst of sinners'. Christ's perspective didn't come with a full-index jab; it came with a genuine love for people. Not to show them how wretched they are, but to show them how welcome and worthwhile they are. So, if you take the perspective of the quote in the article I've linked, then from where I sit, you've not taken Christ's perspective. Because when it comes down to it, we're all part of the same human race; we're all 'the worst of sinners' together. The Fall wasn't worse for some than others. So, we all need the same thing just as much as the next person: love and forgiveness.

As unimportant as it might cause the sanctimonious to feel, we're indistinct. That is, we're not worst, not best; we're just the same. God shows no partiality (Deut. 10:17).

Vatican Tube

Catholics can rejoice: the Vatican has its own YouTube channel.

Now all we need is some pesky Catholic blogger to disagree with some Catholic internet practice, and e-nail his/her objection to Wittenburg Door and we'll have a new wave of e-Protestants.

Awesome.

Let the fun begin!

Christ and the Basketball Girls

These girls beat the other girls 100 to 0 in a game of basketball. That's a sizeable win. However, their coach thinks it's not Christ-like because the margin of victory was too large. He feels it was an honourless victory and wants to forfeit the win.

Criticism and Snark: I'm certainly glad that Christ didn't feel the need to repent for his lopsided victory over the devil when He beat satan ∞ to 0. It was a game, Coach, and your girls trounced the other girls. That happens. Get on with things, and spare the rest of us the disturbing pretences and platitudes.

Guitar Hero

I've been playing guitar for 20 years now. It's an enjoyable skill, and I'm pretty good at it. Then along came Guitar Hero and reduced the value of developing an 'actual' skill on an 'actual' guitar to a virtual mockery in the form of a game.

There. My cynicism about that aspect of Guitar Hero is officially done.

A few days ago, I played Guitar Hero for the first time and had a lot of fun! Mind you, it was a tad confusing for me when I was following along with the scrolling dots playing a Metallica song I can actually play, and my fingers wanted to play the song for real. Needless to say, there were a lot of misplaced (even though they were properly placed for really playing the song) fingers.

But then this morning, while I was reading an article about some Gospel singers making a convention for the Superbowl (cough, gag, sputter, spew), I came across this advertisement -- Why, dear God? Why?

Yes, that's right: Guitar Hero has been Christianized. Now, instead of having to listen to those evil, nasty, satanic, and godless rock-bands, you can listen to the good, peaceful, godly, and worldless rock-bands. And all-the-while you'll be tapping four fingers over five fret-buttons, developing the same gaming capacities but without the possibility of cognitive dissonance from exposure to other creative human endeavours.

Oh, and let's not forget the appeal to pity in the advertisement for Guitar Praise: the wee 'uns so happily rockin' it out without the parental discomforts of CGI rock stars, and their studded shoulder pads. But don't worry, you can still send your hyper-Christianized kids to public school where they'll get a first class education in pornography, drugs, anti-Christian ideas, negative peer attachments, outcome based learning, and evil rock music.

This Is My Church

This is where I attend church. It is a mid-sized congregation with a very inclusivist view of other Christian pedigrees (just a little playful term). As I understand it, we have former Catholics, questioning Catholics, former Lutherans (like my wife and I), Baptists, Anabaptists, etc.

Our common vision is unique to churches that I've attended -- and I've attended a lot: to love Christ and be an example of lovingkindness to the community around us. What makes that vision unique is that my church accomplishes it without all the fixings and dressings of denominationalism, and hang-ups of arbitrary legalisms and moralisms. It is a free-flowing, and loving place to gather together and express our common love of Christ without the blurring of theological differences.

Dr. Veith noted that my church is essentially non-denominational. I kindly disagreed with him citing that non-denominational churches, while holding to a rejection of denominationalism, usually have very definite stances on certain doctrinal issues; e.g., infant baptism, or the nature of the eucharist. These stances are essentially de facto standards which -- and I'm open to correction, Wyatt -- don't seem to be applied within our congregation. That is, theological differences co-exist in a mature manner with love for Christ and each other being the primary focus between us. This makes for a place where people can gather around, say, the eucharist, some of us disagreeing as to the memorial aspect of the practice, and still lovingly and validly partake of Christ's real presence, or even *gasp* transubstantiation. An issue such as the eucharist is an issue between the person receiving the gift, and the Person giving the gift. Our theological differences do not matter so much as meeting and being together in His love, receiving what Christ has to offer, and not interfering with one another in the reception of that gift.


This, I think, is what really being a church is about. It is not about streamlining, managing, overseeing, and over-ruling each other's theological compass to the point where we can all only see North and refuse the realities of East, South, and West. That is, really being a church is about loving each other despite, and even because of our differences. It's about iron sharpening iron just as one man sharpens another. And if, in the end, we come out having to agree to disagree on certain points, we can still love each other as a family loves each individual within that family whatever the respective differences may be.


However, this brings up a necessary point: is there a place where differences are actually divisive and unChristian? In fact, yes. At my church, however, I think the idea is not to weed out those who are not actually Christian by the traditional understanding of what a Christian is (see, Apostle's Creed) but to include them with the loving hope that they may one day become Christians.

Archbishop of Bad Form

The Archbishop of Canterbury has opined on the obvious. Apparently, if we value people more than material wealth, we'll be righter.

"Instead of only placing value on material wealth, Dr Williams challenged people to see their fellow human beings as their true treasure.

'Jesus said where our treasure is, that’s where our hearts will be. Our hearts will be in a very bad way if they’re focused only on the state of our finances. They’ll be healthy if they are capable of turning outwards, looking at the real treasure that is our fellow human beings,' he said."

Nevermind the deep and richly mistaken hermeneutic Archy placed on that passage, it behooves us to examine once again how a man in a prominent position, backed by a large and wealthy church has condescended to tell us plebians to value material wealth less.

If you recall, Pope Benedict XVI made similar implications in his ironic vespers speech from St. Peter's basilica. Now, in a timely and oh-so-expected turn, the Church of England has followed suit renouncing material wealth -- for other people.


It's true that the financial climate is precarious at best. It's true, like the Cynics of ancient Greece used to emphasize, that material wealth has no inherent value beyond itself. It's also invaluably true that people, animals, just life itself generates far more return than can be measured in linear currency. It's true, too, that raining moralisms down on people from fancy pulpits in the guise of encouraging and hopeful messages amounts to little more than a false appeal to authority on the parts of church curates.

At what point did it become the providence of rich churches to rightly tell less privileged people how to use their money? When did it become even remotely ethical to homilize on the value of what others own, and then to assume that in a culture where access to material wealth is quite easy that that means ipso facto that people are valued less?

Is this a case of spotting the fleck in another's eye while the Church of England does precious little to remove the log from their own eye? By way of comparison, my earthly possessions probably wouldn't afford the Archbishop's mitre and cloak. So since he's not, in any foreseeable way, going to be giving those things up to improve the quality of life for the homeless guy on the street, why should I give heed to a blatantly hypocritical splash of rhetoric?

I do believe Jesus rebuked the Pharisees along similar lines. Bad form, Mr. Archbishop.

The New Syncretism

Apparently, a vast majority of American Christians view other religions as equally salvific. It would seem then that we could thereby reduce the moniker "American Christians" to 'Americans'.

So, many Americans feel that there are many paths to salvation, even though those same Americans claim Christianity as their religion of choice.

"Sixty-five percent of all Christians say there are multiple paths to eternal life, ultimately rejecting the exclusivity of Christ teaching, according to the latest survey conducted by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life."

Let's let this article slant in an unnecessary direction now, shall we?

"Even among white evangelical Protestants, 72 percent of those who say many religions can lead to eternal life name at least one non-Christian religion, such as Judaism or Islam or no religion at all, that can lead to salvation."

My goodness. Even white evangelical Protestants? How is that a defining feature of the overall 65% surveyed? Why is it important that they're white? Is Christianity somehow different for white people? What are the assumptions that go behind isolating a certain demographic of evangelical Christians? And why does it matter if the total percentage of Christians surveyed is a clear enough indication that Christians in America don't believe like some of us may have thought they did?

The rest of the article is pretty black and white. But mostly white. It's a very strange article, even if it does present some telling figures.

Oh, Come On!

We couldn't possibly this unaware as Christians, could we? Are we that cloistered away in our nebulous little world that we don't know about such prominent evils as 'human trafficking'?