Engaging the World - What Is Your Discipleship Model?

A New Kind of Discipleship

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2012/12/05/a-new-kind-of-discipleship/

 

Scot McKnight

December 5, 2012

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In his new book, A Thicker Jesus: Incarnational Discipleship in a Secular Age, Fuller seminary’s Christian ethicist, Glen Stassen, proposes a new kind of discipleship — a discipleship fit for a secular age and for a public faith. He calls this model “incarnational discipleship.” Framing an ethic, or discipleship, for the public sector will lead me to questions about the church as our politic, but we need to hear Glen out.

 

What model do you use when you think of how the Christian engages the State? In other words, what is your politic?

 

• The Constantinian takeover?
 
• Luther’s two-realms?
 
• The Reformed theory of influence through spheres of sovereignty?

• The Anabaptist ecclesial politic?
 
• Where does Stassen fit?

 

Stassen wants a “thicker” Jesus — not just a vague ideal or a principle, nor an ideal so high no one could achieve it, nor one restricted to “internal church relations” [OK, Glen, now we've made Jesus a public square Jesus] … the thicker Jesus is one that gives concrete and specific guidance and one that rejects a two-realms dualism and one that summons us from the ideologies of our day....

 

 

[A recent example of intergrating faith with society may be reviewed in my most recent

article here - Kurt Vonnegut and the Sacred Solidarity of God with Humanity. - R.E. Slater]

 

 

...So [Stassen] proposes [the idea of an] “incarnational discipleship,” and there are three dimensions defining it:

 

1. A holistic sovereignty of God and the Lordship of Christ through all of life.

 

2. A thicker Jesus who is God incarnate, historically embodied, and realistic.

 

3. A Holy Spirit who is independent from all powers and authorities, calling us to repent from ideological entanglements.

 

Stassen finds embodiments of this thicker Jesus incarnational discipleship in what can only be called the progressive Christian approach to the relationship of Christ and culture (or world). His major models are The Barmen Declaration, Bonhoeffer’s early resistance during his writing of the Sermon on the Mount, André Trocmé, the righteous Gentiles of the Holocaust, Martin Luther King Jr and Clarence Jordan, the Revolution of the Candles, and Dorothy Day and Muriel Lester.

 

He stews this new kind of discipleship in the work of Charles Taylor, A Secular Age, and applies this thicker Jesus/incarnational discipleship model to issues like democracy, science, individualism, sin, the cross, love and war.

 

 

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AMAZON REVIEW

 

 

Book Description

Release Date: October 25, 2012

 

Why have some Christians, such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King Jr., been able to speak truth to power at great personal cost, while others readily capitulate to injustice? In this magnum opus, Christian ethicist Glen Stassen argues that such robust Christianity stems from believing in a "thicker" Jesus, who is Lord over the whole of life and not just one compartment of it. Belief in this thicker Jesus results in "incarnational discipleship" and can help Christians deal with the challenges of what Charles Taylor has identified as a secular age. Stassen elegantly weaves the characteristics of incarnational discipleship as correctives to secularism.

 

About the Author

 

Glen H. Stassen is the Lewis B. Smedes Professor of Christian Ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California. His book Kingdom Ethics: Following Jesus in Contemporary Context, with David Gushee, received Christianity Today's Award for Best Book of 2004 in Theology or Ethics. He is also the author of Living the Sermon on the Mount, Just Peacemaking, and other books.

 

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

5 out of 5 stars

An outstanding and innovative exposition of the ethics of Jesus

November 22, 2012

By John Mustol

 

Today American evangelical churches are in serious moral difficulty. We are in dire need of spiritual and ethical repentance and renewal. In this book, Dr. Glen Stassen, the Louis B. Smedes Professor of Christian Ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, CA, calls Christians to this needed repentance and renewal through his ethics of incarnational discipleship within the context of our modern secular age.

 

A "thick Jesus" means that Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior was a historically situated, flesh-and-blood person who walked the dusty roads of Palestine. A Jew thoroughly immersed in the Hebraic tradition, especially that of the prophet Isaiah. He lived, taught, and worked within the historical, physical, social, spiritual, and political, realities of his time and place. In this [way] Jesus revealed God's character and provided norms for guiding our lives today. Like Jesus, our ethics must be historical, social, spiritual, and political. They must be embedded in the "thick" realities, struggles, and particularities of earthly life, not in the "thin" conceptualities of platonic idealism or sectarian perfectionism. Stassen wants followers of Jesus to "enter into" the world and be deeply (thickly) engaged in all its flawed messiness in this "age of interaction."

 

Toward this end, Stassen offers his Trinitarian paradigm of incarnational discipleship:

 

(1) the holistic sovereignty of God and Lordship of Christ,

 

(2) God revealed thickly in [the] historical [personage of] Jesus Christ, and

 

(3) the Holy Spirit, independent of all powers and authorities, reminding us of Jesus and calling us to repentance from ideological entanglements (p. 17).

 

Grasping the narrative character of human cognition, Stassen emphasizes "historical drama" in Jesus and in our living out of the Christian life. He believes that the true test for the validity of an ethic is its historical fruit... how it performs in the "crucible" of history. In this regard, the great German theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer plays a prominent role. Stassen is a leading Bonhoeffer scholar.

 

Seeking an integrative and holistic approach to ethics and life, Stassen draws on diverse sources: Nancey Murphy's conception of scientific research programs (based on the philosophy of Imre Lakatos), Charles Taylor's analysis of modern individualism and secularism, his own background in scientific procedures and methods, the existentialist novels of Albert Camus, as well as careful analysis of biblical texts. Drawing on Bonhoeffer, Stassen offers an intriguing "incarnational" theory of the cross (atonement).

 

Finally, Stassen reiterates his interpretation of the Sermon on the Mount, giving it a central place in his ethics. For him, the Sermon is not idealistic perfectionism but concrete realism. He presents his "fourteen triads" for interpreting the Sermon and summarizes his ten "transforming initiatives" for just peacemaking, which is one of Stassen's central concerns as a Christian living in today's conflicted world. Stassen is on a mission to see Christians live out their faith in a morally credible way in the real world. He wants to see Christian churches pass the moral test of history. His passion for this is evident in the book.

 

Stassen is a man of remarkable character and vision, extremely knowledgeable, widely read, a brilliant and accomplished scholar and thinker. Yet he remains a profoundly personable and humble man. And he puts feet on his faith. He is not content to stay in his office writing books or hobnobbing with his fellow professors. At age 76, he is an activist involved in the rough and tumble problems of the world such as peacemaking in the Middle East. In the book he tells of his extensive work in the civil rights movement in the 1960s.

 

The book is dense in places, and Stassen's sense of urgency sometimes leads him to try to put too much meaning into too few words. Also, if you are not familiar with some concepts, such as Nancey Murphy's theory of scientific validation, you may find parts of the book a little hard to understand. It also would have been nice if Stassen had placed Jesus and ourselves more realistically in the ecological contexts in which all earthly life is located. But, overall it is an excellent and easy read. Stassen's message comes through loud and clear.

 

All Christians (and a lot of non-Christians) ought to read this book. And it is, or ought to be, required reading for all students and scholars in Christian ethics. When all is said and done, Stassen wants only one thing - that all of us who name Jesus as Lord follow him realistically, incarnationally and in so doing bring glory to God. As his final sentence asks: "Will you join me in the apostolic witness to a thicker Jesus-in the tradition of incarnational discipleship?" (p. 221).

 

 

 

On Not Throwing the Baby out with the Bathwater (A Message for Abused Ex-Fundamentalists)

Having decided to submit this article by Roger Olson I can't say that he and I didn't have similar fundamentalist backgrounds - with the exception that my brand of faith was less harsh, and more lenient, in many ways from his own (mainly because my family were not as closely connected to our Baptist church, which was not Pentecostal, by the way). But still, when growing up spiritually in the Lord as a young child, the Christian faith I was taught focused a lot on the "do's and don'ts", to actively participated in like-minded tribal associations of fellowship, and to go to conservative bible colleges not dissimilar with Roger's own experience. However, I was fortunate in that regard too, because the Christian college I eventually ended up at was beginning to "come around" and though we had regulations of dress and so forth, they were also hiring "intellectual" professors into our fundamentalist faith culture. Which made all the difference for me (and also explains the beginning of "evangelical creep" into the fundamentalist church movement as I was experiencing it.... not rules and regulations but "Jesus" and His "message"). I could also witness firsthand my teachers struggles and the administration's frets over lost of funding and purposeful dedication to yesteryear's standards. It allowed a person to "breathe" a little, and that was all that I needed, without the feeling of incrimination that could've grown up in its place.

Too, I was the first home-grown member to have graduated from seminary in my home church. It was an honor and I longed to do the work of ministry but very soon found that I wasn't "qualified" to be a worker without going through additional deprivations and church-based mentoring. After years of struggle (and many years of church-based ministry at my home church) I could not afford this last demand and so became isolated. My church was growing a lot during this time and had dozens of young men now willing to make this last effort (sometimes to the harm and peril of their family life). As such, the best I could expect was Sunday School ministries of some kind, and no longer the personal discipleship nor promotion of opportunity I had hoped from my pastor. Several years later another church requested my services (my wife's church) - from the Sunday School level - and offered to me grand opportunities for ministry from kids to senior adults. I choose college & career (which much later transitioned to older single adults) and the rest is history.

Those were wonderful years with the blessings of God in them. But again, curiously, this mega-church was focused on other recruitable volunteers and never once sought to present to me formal church staff ministry opportunity. Not that I had wanted it because, quite frankly, I was now married and forming my own family, and quite past the mindset of believing I could ever minister in a formal capacity again (I'm sure my shyness, or lack of confidence, had something to do with it). Rather, I was focused on God's present blessings and opportunities and was taking full advantage of them. Consequently, "formal" ministry (in the "paid" sense) never became my life path. Perhaps a past regret but now no longer a personal desire.... For I had determined that my approval comes from God and not from man. And have ceased to be concerned over the lack of purposeful recruiting by my brothers and sisters. I was in lay ministry and did not have time to think about seeking full time staff ministry. I was there to help and not self-promote. To serve and not to worry about personal recognition. These are foolish temptations better left to the devil and the world. From here, at the lay level, God has given the keys of the Kingdom, which if left to a church board or congregational vote may have been ripped out of my hands. I could therefore focus on spiritual ministry and not waste time or anxiety on lesser matters. And so, without realising it, God had blessed me by allowing ministry where ministry was thought not to exist. I had mine own pulpit of God made without earthly hands and it was enough.

Consequently, I find a great amount of sympathy for Roger in his article below. And applaud the determination he found to become the minister of God that was waiting for him. It took courage (and I imagine a bit of "growing up" in the "public-tack-and-personal-frustration" department). But God kept Roger to the course He had for him. And to that end Roger has been a great blessing to us as our favorite informal "resident" historical theologian on this blog.

In the same way, to you my readers, do not give up on God. However harsh, however incredulous, however idiotic fellow Christians and churches behave around you. Be mature and act maturely. Be wise. Be informed. Learn to speak your position better. More tactfully. Even bravely. In all things reach out in love and keep self-incriminating judgment at bay. This is God's department not ours. We judge of-a-kind but ultimately it is for God "to clean house." And, as has been said so many times through this year, "Be at peace." With yourself. With your circumstances. With God and society. We only seek to uplift God's name not our own. When that relationship is understood than all else will fall into place. Be at peace my brothers and sisters. For God reigns and will direct your life at every opportunity we give to Him for this to occur. Amen.

R.E. Slater

August 26, 2012

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On Not Throwing the Baby out with the Bathwater (A Message for Abused Ex-Fundamentalists)

by Roger Olson

August 24, 2012

On Not Throwing the Baby out with the Bathwater

1 Thessalonians 5:19-20

A few years ago I must have said “We shouldn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater” once too often because when I said it the whole class burst out laughing.

That’s okay; one thing I know about myself is I’m funniest when I’m not trying to be.

I confess it. I do like that rustic saying—”Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.” It very well describes a struggle I’ve been involved in for many years. In some ways, it defines my personal struggle with my religious heritage.

After teaching Christian theology to college and seminary students for 27 years I’m confident I’m not alone. Many students share my struggle in their own ways. The same is true for many of my colleagues and friends.

Some succeed in not throwing the baby out with the bathwater and some don’t. I’m not here to blame anyone but to share my struggle with you and hopefully encourage you if you find yourself involved in such a struggle.

That saying—”Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater”—has an interesting history. I have heard one explanation of its origin that seems a little far-fetched. Allegedly, back in the Dark Ages, peasants bathed only once weekly. They would fill a half barrel with soapy water and the family members would take turns bathing in it. Of course, the father would go first. Then the oldest son. Then the mother and children. The baby would be bathed last and by then the water was so filthy it was easy to lose the baby in the bathwater—especially if you looked away for a minute and the baby sank down into the water. So, the tale goes, occasionally the baby would be thrown out with the bathwater.

Personally I always found that explanation unlikely. The urban myth debunking web site snopes.com agrees with me.

While nobody knows who first coined the saying, it seems to come from Germany and the first published appearance is in a 15th century book of German poems. Interestingly, Martin Luther used it in a 1526 letter. He wrote “Man soll das Kind nicht mit dem bad ausgiessen.” It’s first use in English was by British essayist Thomas Carlyle in 1849.

I suppose I probably first heard it from one of my grandmothers. They were always going around uttering quaint advice like “Watch your ‘p’s’ and q’s'”—whatever that means.

But this saying—”Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater”—however quaint and odd seems to paraphrase Paul’s advice to the Thessalonians well. In 1 Thessalonians 5:19-20 he instructs them (my translation): “Do not quench the Spirit or despise prophecies. Carefully examine all things and hold on to what is good.” In the next verse—21—he tells his readers to “reject whatever is harmful.”

Some English translations translate the Greek word δοκίμάζέτέ “prove” thus rendering the verse in English “prove all things.” That doesn’t make any sense in modern English, of course. In the past “prove” could mean “test,” but today it generally means something else. So a good, workable translation for today is “critically examine everything.”

Thayer says δοκίμάζέτέ means “to test, examine, prove, scrutinize (to see whether a thing be genuine or not)”, as in metal testing. It is used often in the New Testament and in the Septuagint almost always meaning critical examination of something to prove its validity.

The context of this verse is “prophecies.” Paul instructs the Thessalonian Christians not to despise them. Immediately he then instructs them to critically examine them which raises a lot of questions the foremost being “how?” Paul doesn’t answer here. And that’s beside the point for my purposes.

My only intention in choosing this passage as a “text that has shaped me” is to support and defend something much neglected in Christian communities—especially conservative ones. That something is critical thinking and testing of things within the church and Christian organizations.

But Paul then goes on to say that after they have tested prophecies (or whatever) they are to hold firmly to what is good. The implication, of course, is that they were to discard what is bad.

Don’t you wish Paul had finished his thoughts sometimes? I can just imagine the Thessalonian Christians listening to this letter being read to them and asking in consternation “How?” “By what criteria are we supposed to critically examine prophecies?” We can only wish with them that Paul had given specific instructions about that.

I’ll never forget when this text first hit home to me. You know that “Aha!” moment when experience and text come together and suddenly it means something very existentially compelling to you? That happened to me. I don’t remember the date, but I remember the place and the time frame. Then this text became a great comfort and challenge to me.

I grew up in a form of Christianity most of you can’t even imagine. Sometimes I’m even embarrassed to talk about it. Whenever I meet someone who also grew up in it I want to grab them and sit down and talk at length. I want to say “Hey, let’s form a support group!” Often I find they went one of two directions with it—either deeper in or farther away.

You see, the religious form of life I was raised in was almost cultic in its extreme legalism. I’ve come to refer to us as “urban Amish.” We lived in a city, but we regarded everything and everyone around us as bound for hell unless they repented and joined our group or something very much like it.

Television was held in great suspicion; it tended to come and go in our home. Our first television was a rented set so that I would have something to do when I was bed ridden for months with rheumatic fever when I was 10. A 10 year old can only read the Bible so much. And reading the Bible was strongly emphasized in our home and church. Anyone who had not read the Bible all the way though—including all the “begats”—by the time he or she was 12 was considered destined for hell. (I exaggerate only slightly!)

When I got well the television stayed for a while, but then it went back to the rental store and we didn’t have another one for years.

Movies were absolutely Verboten. “What if Jesus came back while you were sitting in a den of Hollywood iniquity where people have sex in the back seats?” Seriously. That’s what we were asked by Sunday School teachers. I didn’t darken the door of a movie theater until I was 20.

I think you get the picture. But more pertinent to my story than all the rules and regulations that governed almost every minute aspect of life was the one great unspoken but always enforced rule and I learned the consequences of breaking it much to my detriment.

That one great rule was “Don’t ask why.” Of course, it was okay to ask why IF you asked in the right spirit and with the right attitude—one of humble acceptance of whatever answer was offered. But if you asked why really challenging a rule or a belief or a custom you’d better watch out. Your eternal soul was in jeopardy. Here I do not exaggerate.

You see, our form of Christianity was not garden variety fundamentalism. It made fundamentalists look like liberals. We considered fundamentalist Baptists liberals because they didn’t believe in the supernatural gifts of the Spirit such as speaking in tongues and healing.

My stepmother was the epitome of our spiritual way of life.

When we went on family vacation we had to find a church as close to ours in beliefs and practices as possible and attend it in Sunday morning—Sunday school and all.

I got punished for putting my school books on top of a Bible at home.

My brother and I weren’t allowed to wear cut off jeans, to say nothing of shorts, or to swim with girls—which meant no swimming in any public pool. Occasionally our church would rent a YMCA swimming pool for an afternoon or evening. But the boys sat out while the girls swam and vice versa.

My problem was that I pretty much kept all the rules and, in spite of them, had a marvelous, life-transforming experience of Jesus Christ in that context, but as I matured I couldn’t stop asking “Why?” Why this rule and that belief? And when the answers weren’t satisfying I kept asking.

When I was in sixth grade I must have asked too many questions in Sunday School because one Sunday the teacher stood up, threw down his Sunday School quarterly and said “Roger, you teach the class” and stomped out. I did teach the class. Needless to say, I got a spanking that afternoon.

If you grew up in our church there was really only one option for college—our denomination’s Bible college. Everyone went there. To not go there was to put a big question mark over your spirituality. It was a deal breaker—not to go there was to be shunned by family and friends. So I went there. And I suffered four years of hell.

We were not allowed to ask questions in class unless they were simply for clarification of a point. The whole curriculum and pedagogy was about indoctrination. And there was a deep strain of anti-intellectualism in the school.

I simply couldn’t stop myself from asking the “Why?” question. “Why do we believe that?” “Where does that tradition come from?” “Why do we do that?” Most often the answers were less than satisfactory and I was labeled a trouble maker for persisting in my questioning.

At a particularly low point in my college career I came across this verse—”Examine all things”—and felt released from guilt and condemnation. I came to realize that I was being spiritually abused. That my elders had created idols out of highly questionable beliefs and practices and were using shame to manipulate and control students—especially those few of us who dared to question the idols.

One day the president of the college called me into his office and told me not to come back to school the next day unless I got my hair cut. My hair then came down a bit over my collar and about half way over my ears. Men were not allowed to have “long hair” or facial hair including side burns. (Not that I could ever grow side burns anyway!) I got my hair cut, but that was a turning point for me. I knew I was being singled out for special abuse because of my constant subjecting of things to critical examination.

During the second semester of my senior year the college’s board of regents discussed not allowing me to graduate in spite of my grade point average which was 3.5. They finally decided they probably couldn’t legally prevent me from graduating, but agreed among themselves to blackball me from finding a position in the denomination.

I was tempted to run as far as I possibly could from that form of Christianity. We called ourselves “conservative evangelicals.” Did I even want to be an evangelical Christian anymore? I wasn’t at all sure.

But I kept coming back to a few really amazing experiences of the reality of Jesus Christ in my life. They kept me anchored in my evangelical faith even as I slowly but surely shook off the extreme fundamentalism and legalism and anti-intellectualism of my home, church and denomination.

The last straw for my family and church and denomination was when I enrolled in seminary. I was the first person raised in that denomination ever to go to seminary. My people always called it “cemetery.” Enrolling in a Baptist seminary assured that I would never again be welcome among my own people.

At that seminary I found a very different flavor of evangelical Christianity—a warm-hearted but at the same time tough minded evangelicalism that was not at all threatened by my questions. And I drank deeply at the wells of open, progressive evangelical theology and it tasted so good.

As I progressed on into my doctoral studies I met many young men and women who had grown up in religious environments like my own and I noticed a pattern. It seemed they either were incapable of thinking for themselves or they rejected evangelical Christianity entirely. I determined to do what I didn’t see very many of those friends doing—keep the baby while throwing out the bathwater.

It hasn’t always been easy. Where’s the line between legalism and righteousness? Between traditionalism and tradition? Between fanaticism and passion? Between authoritarianism and authority? Between gullibility and openness to the miraculous?

Over the years I’ve witnessed so many young Christians in university and seminary struggling out of abusive fundamentalism with its near idolatry of human ideas and traditions and its abuse of inquiring minds. And I’ve been dismayed by how often they do throw the baby of evangelical faith out with the bathwater of fundamentalism. But I can’t blame them because I came very close to doing it myself.

Now I’ve become a little more comfortable in my own skin and knowing the difference between the baby and the bathwater comes easier for me. I need to be patient with those who are still finding their way in that. I want to give them guidance if I can.

So let me tell you some of the things I think we should keep as we discard their counterfeits.

• We should not throw the baby of tradition out with the bathwater of traditionalism. Historical theologian Jaroslav Pelikan of Yale said that “Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living while tradition is the living faith of the dead.”

• We should not throw the baby of certitude out with the bathwater of certainty. Kierkegaard coined the term “certitude” as the replacement for Enlightenment "certainty" which is a myth. We finite and fallen human beings can’t have certainty—especially about answers to life’s ultimate questions. But we can have certitude which means, in Lesslie Newbigin’s words, “proper confidence.”

• We should not throw the baby of confession out with the bathwater of creedalism. I no longer will sign someone else’s creed or confessional statement, but if asked I will gladly tell my confession of faith in classical Christian doctrine.

• We should not throw the baby of faith out with the bathwater of anti-intellectualism or the baby of reason out with the bathwater of rationalism.

• We should not throw the baby of truth out with the bathwater of totalizing absolutism.

• We should not throw the baby of feeling out with the bathwater of emotionalism. 

• We should not throw the baby of patriotism out with the bathwater of nationalism. 

• We should not throw the baby of the God’s supernatural activity out with the bathwater of gullibility about miracles. 

• We should not throw the baby of biblical authority out with the bathwater of wooden literalism and strict inerrancy. 

• We should not throw the baby of accountability out with the bathwater of hierarchy.

And so I could go on. There are so many examples of ways in which disillusioned Christians throw the good out with the bad.

So how can we know which is the baby and which is the bathwater? Perhaps there’s no litmus test. I haven’t found one. It would be too simple just to say “Jesus.” But a Christ-centered consciousness is part of it.

But one thing I’m sure of. In our Christian communities, we should find ways to reward and not punish those courageous souls who dare to ask “Why?” because they do us a great service by making us ask about the difference between babies and bathwater.

Reimagining Our Living Faith

Where Do We Go From Here?

Sometimes I feel that I have taken on an impossible task of delineating a Christianity that can be both practical and pedestrian on the one hand, and academically salient on the other hand. All the while attempting to utilize outside resources that show the validity of not only my own thoughts and concerns, but what I think are also the contemporary thoughts and concerns of Christian activists better connect than myself between the real world of public communication and synthetic argument in society. 

Turbulent Societal Issues

And much like a news commentator, I have been directing this blog/journal to give a more positive direction in disseminating key issues-and-ideas that are fomenting within Christianity today... and especially as it relates to a newer branch of Christianity which I think is very quickly supplanting (i) old-line orthodox Christianity, (ii) Evangelicalism-at-large and (iii) the various denominational identities - including Catholicism itself - that is being expressed through the many forums of Progressive Christianity, with a more contemporary, and postmodern, version of modern day Christianity known as Emergent Christianity. A faith system that I felt a year ago needed better representation, better explanation, and better presentation from its too-many-versions of its fractured self. A movement that has lived or breathed in one fashion or another through the separate communities of Emergent believers not all interacting with one another. Nor with the main body of orthodoxy that they have left behind. An orthodoxy which, for all practical purposes, had also left advocates of Emergent Christianity behind, through self-proclaimed ignorance and dismissal of legitimate sociological, theological, and humanitarian issues at hand.

Dealing with Technology & Social Networking

Consequently, I have hoped to give my readers better tools to make more qualified judgements in this area of contemporary religious development that would help inter-relate valid Emergent Christian concerns with Orthodox practices and beliefs, while at the same time better explain why Emergent Christianity provides a larger plane of contemporary relevance to the world, and consequently a fuller opportunity to share Jesus globally across all faith and cultural differences. One that is non-threatening and more fully exposed to cultural adaptation and assimilation. While at the same time, importantly maintaining the foundations of the orthodox faith which must be updated into an era of postmodernism that will change again in the continuous succession of societal evolution.

Learning to communicate with those different from ourselves

With that said, Daniel Kirk made some observations below that we should all bear in mind when reading and interacting our faith with each other. Its called learning to listen both passively and actively so as to be better enabled to present a fuller presentation of just what the postmodern church is, where it is going, and how it needs to stay current in its faith-communities and witness. The piece below is a common, everyday example of this process as it is formed at the New Yorker magazine. And in our case, all the many vehicles and outlets that we listen to on air, or through the Internet, or the many voices we hear inside our head through pulpits, books, blogs and magazines. Through all of this we must pay attention to the words we're reading while assessing the central topics that they are vouchsafing back to us. We must be better active listeners and more passive in our first responses and immediate impressions that would prejudice us too quickly so that we cannot hear the writer's story, the meaning behind that story, or its helps and conclusions.

Trying to understand our past by not repeating our past

I find very often in the Christian communes that I write that my readership is too quick to judge and that I must work constantly at deflating those strong opinions in a variety of ways so that I can get readers to better listen to the topics at hand. And in this case, my arguments for a broader, wider, deeper course of Emergent Christianity than we have at present. One that is maturing us in the faith of Jesus as followers of the Cross; that is enabling its respondents towards finding a larger God who has a larger role in the world than we think He has; a God who infects the faith communities we live in with more realistic hopes and dreams that somehow can become brighter, more true, as counter-arguments to popular destructive dogmas; that creates perspectives that can reasonably attend to our personal circumstances without having to create self-delusions and imaginations about the Bible or doctrinal truths that seem elusive at best in more pedestrian fares and belief-systems; that can free us from the toxicities and addictions of our lives - or deliver us from the judgments and actions of significant ideologies around us - so that we might find liberation in our souls from the waste products that have grown up inside of us and must be discerned and excreted.

Learning to rethink our world

In all these areas this blog/journal has submitted time-and-again article after article on many of our self-narratives that once were destructive to our living faith, but now is empowering this same faith when separated from the many misleading stories that we tell ourselves. It is a matter of growing up, of maturing in the faith, of putting away the untruths and lies we have told ourselves, or have allowed others to tell us about ourselves. And of reclaiming the Jesus of our faith, and the faith of Jesus, in proportionate expansion to the infinities of God's amazing plans for our lives and the world at large when we become more active responders to the call of God to "Hear, and Obey." We have an amazing God. We need to become amazing listeners. Hear then His call this day and be led by the Spirit in new ways unimagined!

R.E. Slater
February 18, 2012

*For a related story of our postmodernism is affecting societal evolution please refer to Relevancy22's latest installment on the "Changing Nature of Public Eduction" by Sir Ken Robinson -
http://relevancy22.blogspot.com/2012/02/changing-educational-paradigms.html

Growing in the darkness of day's light

John 5
English Standard Version (ESV)

The Healing at the Pool on the Sabbath

5 After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.

² Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic^[a] called Bethesda,^[b] which has five roofed colonnades. ³ In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed.^{[c] 5} One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. ⁶ When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” ⁷ The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” ⁸ Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” ⁹ And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.

Now that day was the Sabbath. ¹⁰ So the Jews^[d] said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to take up your bed.” ¹¹ But he answered them, “The man who healed me, that man said to me, ‘Take up your bed, and walk.’” ¹² They asked him, “Who is the man who said to you, ‘Take up your bed and walk’?” ¹³ Now the man who had been healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, as there was a crowd in the place. ¹⁴ Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, “See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.” ¹⁵ The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had healed him. ¹⁶ And this was why the Jews were persecuting Jesus, because he was doing these things on the Sabbath. ¹⁷ But Jesus answered them, “My Father is working until now, and I am working.”

Unbounded imagination over the possibilities of God...
"Be ye as little children" (Matthew 18)

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Writers and Readers

http://www.jrdkirk.com/2012/02/15/writers-and-readers/

by JRD Kirk

February 15, 2012

Writes and readers are not the same things.

I heard such a claim from a theologian friend of mine once. He had been told that you could either write or read, but probably not do both. He thought it was lame.

Then he became a writer.

And understood.

I listen to the New Yorker Fiction Podcast. It has confirmed this from a different angle.

The setup of the show is this: a writer reads someone else’s short story. Then the person who read the story talks about it with Deborah Treisman, the New Yorker fiction editor.

It is not uncommon that in listening to the conversation it becomes clear that she is a much better reader of short stories than the storywriters are.

She recognizes meaning where they don’t want to see any. She puts the pieces together to give a compelling reading of the story we’ve all just heard.

Of course, not all writers are the same. Nor are all readers the same. Some readers are fantastic for discovering meaning (David Dark is one of these–his writing is so enthralling because he’s showing you how he reads not only books but also the world) some are fantastic for telling you that your n-dash really should be an em-dash. (I just use hyphens—forget you people.)

Lame or not, I find folks falling more one way or the other. Some are great readers. Some are great writers. (Or, “express proclivities toward reading” v. “express proclivities toward writing.”)

Few do both.