Can God speak through myth?

http://rachelheldevans.com/bible-myth

by Rachel Held Evans
July 10, 2012
Comments

Today we continue our discussion of Peter Enns’ excellent book, Inspiration and Incarnation, as part of our series on learning to love the Bible for what it is, not what we want it to be.

As we move to Chapter 2—“The Old Testament and Ancient Near Eastern Literature” — I am struck afresh with just how perfect this book fits with our theme. In it, Enns focuses on three specific problems/questions raised by the modern study of the Old Testament and uses those specific problems/questions to engage in a broader conversation about the nature of Scripture. According to Enns, many evangelicals have assumed a defensive posture when it comes to confronting the linguistic, historical, and archeological evidence that shows the Bible to be “firmly situated in the ancient world in which it was produced,” for fear that such “situatedness” detracts from its divine nature.

Rather than ignoring or lamenting the evidence, Enns suggests we allow it to teach us something about how the Bible ought to be read and interpreted. “The problems many of us feel regarding the Bible may have less to do with the Bible itself and more to do with our own preconceptions,” he writes. “I have found again and again that listening to how the Bible itself behaves and suspending preconceived notions (as much as that is possible) about how we think the Bible to behave is refreshing, creative, exciting and spiritually rewarding.” (p. 15)

Last week, we discussed Enns’ incarnational analogy— in which he posits that just as Jesus assumed the language, culture, and life of a first-century Jewish teacher, so the Bible belonged in the ancient worlds that produced it. “It was not an abstract, otherworldly book, dropped out of heaven,” Enns writes. “It was connected to and therefore spoke to those ancient cultures.”

This week, with Chapter 2, we get an up close look at the ancient world that produced the Bible, particularly the ancient Near Eastern (ANE) literature shaped much of its content.

A Reality Check

Enns first highlights the impact of Akkadian Literature, which likely predates the biblical text and which includes creation and flood accounts remarkably similar to those we find in the Bible. (If, like me, you had a mini faith crisis in Intro to Ancient Literature after reading Enuma Elish or Gilgabmesh, you will know exactly what he’s talking about.) He also notes the similarities between The Code of Hammurabi and the laws found in Exodus; between Hittite suzerainty treaties and Deuteronomy; and between the Egyptian instructions of Amenemope and the book of Proverbs.

He then points to archeological finds such as the Tel Dan inscription and the Siloam Tunnel Inscription to highlight the likely historicity of King David and Israel’s monarchs as well as similarities in how ancient people reported historical events. I won’t get into detail here, but I strongly encourage those unfamiliar with ANE texts to study this chapter, which will serve as something of a reality check regarding the context in which the Bible was written and the worldview it shares with the sacred texts of other ANE cultures.

These similarities raise some important questions: 

• Does the Bible report historical fact, or is it just a bunch of stories culled from other ancient cultures? 

• What does it mean for other cultures to have an influence on the Bible that we believe is revealed by God? 

• If the Bible is a “culturally conditioned” product, what relevance does it have today? 

• Can we really say that the Bible is unique? Can really say it is the word of God?

“The problem...is that showing how at home the Bible is in the ancient world makes it look less special in some respects—less unique,” writes Enns. “What can we say about the uniqueness of the Bible when, in so many areas, it bears striking similarities to the beliefs and practices of other nations?” (p. 32) According to Enns:

“The newfound evidence for the cultural settings of the Bible led many to conclude that the Bible is essentially defined by these cultural factors. The ‘context of Scripture’ became the primary determining factor in defining what the Bible is....

The conservatives’ reaction was also problematic in that it implicitly assumed what their opponents also assumed: the Bible, being the word of God, ought to be historically accurate in all its details (since God would not lie or make errors) and unique its own setting (since God’s word is revealed, which implies a specific type of uniqueness)....

Conservatives have tended to employ a strategy of selective engagement, embracing evidence that seems to support their assumptions... but retreating from evidence that seems to undercut these assumptions.” (47)

In the midst of all this, “the doctrinal implications of the Bible being so much a part of its ancient contexts are still not being addressed as much as they should,” says Enns. He proposes a new way forward, beyond the liberal/conservative divide that involves adjusting our expectations about how the Bible should behave.

Enns proceeds to do just that by helping the reader adjust his/her expectations regarding: 1) the creation and flood accounts, 2) customs laws, and proverbs, and 3) monarchy.

Genesis and Myth: Creation & the Flood

Today I want to focus on the creation and flood accounts, because they provide perhaps the best (and most controversial?) example of what it means to adjust one’s expectations when it comes to reading Scripture, a critical part of learning to the Bible for what it is, not what we want it to be.

As Enns notes in the book, it’s become almost impossible to discuss Genesis as myth without making people angry, as the word “myth,” in everyday use, has come to mean something other than a literary genre. The distinction between myth and history, says Enns, “presupposes—without stating explicitly—that what is historical, in a modern sense of the word, is more real, of more value, more like something God would do, than myth. So, the argument goes, if Genesis is myth, then it is not ‘of God.’”

Enns clarifies the fact that myth is an ancient, pre-modern, pre-scientific way of addressing questions of ultimate origins and meaning in the form of stories. He then raises the question: “Why is it that God can’t use the category we call myth to speak to ancient Israelites?”

He writes:

“The reason the opening chapters of Genesis look so much like the literature of ancient Mesopotamia is that the worldview categories of the ancient Near East were ubiquitous and normative at the time. Of course, different cultures had different myths, but the point is that they all had them...What makes Genesis different from its ancient Near Eastern counterparts is that it begins to make the point to Abraham and his seed that the God they are bound to, the God who called them into existence, is different from the gods around them....

The biblical worldview described in Genesis is an Ancient Near Eastern one. But the ordering of the world (e.g., the separation of water from land) did not result from a morbid conflict within a dysfunction divine family, as we read in Enuma Elish. It was simply this amazing God who spoke.” (p. 53, 54-55)

In other words, the author is making a theological point, not a scientific or historical one.

Enns reminds the reader that the worldview described in Genesis is a decidedly ANE one, portraying the earth as a flat disk supported by pillars, with water above and below, and a solid, fixed firmament. This is how Abraham would have understood the universe, how the writer of Genesis would have understood the universe, and how the first storytellers, readers, and listeners of Scripture would have understood the universe. It is therefore coutnerproductive to try and impose our own advanced (and yet, in the grand scheme of things, still limited) assumptions regarding cosmology onto the text.

To me, this is the money quote:

“We do not protect the Bible or render it more believable to modern people by trying to demonstrate that it is consistent with modern science.... It is a fundamental misunderstanding of Genesis to expect it to answer questions generated by a modern worldview, such as whether the days were literal or figurative, or whether the days of creation can be lined up with modern science, or whether the flood was local or universal. The question that Genesis is prepared to answer is whether Yahweh, the God of Israel, is worthy of worship. And that point is made not by allowing ancient Israelites to catch a glimpse of a spherical earth or a heliocentric universe. It is wholly incomprehensible to think that thousands of years ago God would have felt constrained to speak in a way that would be meaningful only to Westerners several thousand years later. To do so borders on modern, Western arrogance.” (p. 55)

Concludes Enns, “this is what it means for God to speak at a certain time and place—he enters their world. He speaks and acts in ways that makes sense to them. This is surely what it means for God to reveal himself to people –he accommodates, condescends, meets them where they are. The phrase word of God does not imply disconnectedness to its environment.”

And again we are reminded of Christ—the fullest and most complete revelation of God—who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but humbled himself and became like us. If God is willing to put on human flesh in order to communicate to us, why wouldn’t he be willing to speak human languages—complete with human literary devices and human words and human cosmological assumptions—to communicate?

I find this freeing....

In college I was trained to fight against this view of Scripture with every fiber of my being, and yet, when I began seeking a more intellectually honest faith, it was this view of Scripture that finally released me from gripping fear and doubt.

I had been asking questions that the Bible didn’t answer. I had been forcing onto it my own modern, Western assumptions. I had been trying to explain away every possible contradiction, every historical or scientific "problem," in order to force the Bible into my own predetermined paradigm. I believed that in order for the Bible to be God’s word it had to conform to my ideals of historical and scientific proofs. It was a bit like demanding that Jesus be fully human without getting thirsty, or without sleeping, or without assuming a language and ethnicity and gender.

And when the Bible didn’t perform as I expected it to perform, I nearly lost my faith.

This is why I am so thankful for scholars and like Enns who have helped me confront my own prejudices and learn to love the Bible for what it is, not what I want it to be. (Thanks, Pete!)

Next week we will discuss this a bit further, with some additional examples....

* * *

So, what do you think? Have you had to confront the similarities between the Bible and other ANE texts? What is your reaction when Genesis is described as “myth”?

 

* * *

Continue to -

Part 1 - How Are We to Understand

"Noah and the Flood?"

http://relevancy22.blogspot.com/2012/07/noah-flood-creation-genesis.html

 

 

Liberal Christianity, Conservative Christianity, and the Caught-In-Between

http://rachelheldevans.com/liberal-conservative-christianity

by Rachel Held Evans

July 16, 2012

Comments

“Why is it that the choice among churches always seems to be

the choice between intelligence on ice and ignorance on fire?”

 

– Diana Butler Bass

“Give people a common enemy, and you will give them a common identity.

Deprive them of an enemy and you will deprive them of the crutch by which they know who they are.”

 

– James Alison

As you may have noticed, a flurry of articles and blog posts have materialized in the wake of the Episcopal Church USA General Convention, many asserting that the Episcopal Church’s declining numbers, and those of other Mainline Protestant churches, are direct result of their progressive policies. The most notable of these responses came from Ross Douthat of the New York Times who asked, “Can Liberal Christianity Be Saved?”

“Instead of attracting a younger, more open-minded demographic with these changes,” Douthat wrote, “the Episcopal Church’s dying has proceeded apace... Practically every denomination — Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian — that has tried to adapt itself to contemporary liberal values has seen an Episcopal-style plunge in church attendance. Within the Catholic Church, too, the most progressive-minded religious orders have often failed to generate the vocations necessary to sustain themselves."

Dianna Butler Bass responded with an article entitled “Can Christianity be Saved?” in which she reminds Douthat that conservative churches are also in decline. “In the last decade,” she writes, “as conservative denominations lost members, their leaders have not equated the loss with unfaithfulness. Instead, they refer to declines as demographic "blips," waning evangelism, or the impact of secular culture. Membership decline has no inherent theological meaning for either liberals or conservatives. Decline only means, as Gallup pointed out in a just-released survey, that Americans have lost confidence in all forms of institutional religion. The real question is not 'Can liberal Christianity be saved?' The real question is:'Can Christianity be saved?'

Both were thoughtful, relatively charitable articles, but I was disheartened to see my Facebook and Twitter feeds light up with gleeful jeers from conservative evangelicals essentially saying, “let the liberals die!” followed by defensive responses from more progressive Mainliners reminding them, “we may be dying but we’re taking you with us!”

Missing from the whole dialog was any sense that we’re in this together, that, as followers of Jesus, we may need to put our heads together to re-imagine what it means to be the Church in a postmodern, American culture where confidence in organized religion is at an all-time low.

Meanwhile, I feel totally caught in between.

For one thing, I don’t "fit" in the conservative evangelical church:

• I believe in evolution.
• I vote for democrats.
• I doubt.
• I enjoy interfaith dialog and cooperation.
• I like smells, bells, liturgy, and ritual—particularly when it comes to the Eucharist.
• I’m passionate about gender equality in marriage and church leadership.
• I’m tired of the culture wars.
• I want to become a better advocate for social justice.
• I want my LGBT friends to feel welcome and accepted in their own churches.
• I’m convinced that the Gospel is about more than “getting saved” from hell. 

But I don’t "fit" in the progressive, Mainline church either:

• I love a good Bible study.
• I think doctrine and theology are important enough to teach and debate.
• I think it’s vital that we talk about, and address, sin.
• I believe in the physical resurrection of Jesus.
• I want to participate in interfaith dialog and cooperation while still maintaining a strong Christian identity.
• I want to engage in passionate worship, passionate justice, and passionate biblical study and application, passionate community.
• I’m totally down with a bit of spontaneous, group “popcorn” prayer, complete with hand-holding and references to the Holy Spirit “moving in this place.”
• I’m convinced that the Gospel is about more than being a good person.

These objections represent generalizations, of course (and, it should be stated, this whole conversation is unique to Western—particularly American—Christianity). I know plenty of evangelicals who embrace the science of evolution, and I know plenty of mainliners who are passionate about both social justice and theology. But the reason I struggle to go to church on Sunday mornings is because I generally feel like I have to choose between two non-negotiable “packages.” There are things I really love about evangelicalism and there are things I really love about progressive Protestantism, but because these two groups tend to forge their identities in reaction to one another— by the degree to which they are not like those “other Christians”—Sunday morning can feel an awful lot like an exercise in picking sides. And often, when I find myself actually sitting in the pew, the pastor or priest will at some point in the service, either subtly or overtly, speak of the “other side” as an enemy.

Apparently I’m not alone. I asked on my Facebook page if you ever feel caught between “liberal” and “conservative” Christianity, and here’s what some of you said:

• "I feel caught in the middle. I've always been unsure how much to trust all the theological conclusions of ‘liberal Christianity’ (but that's not to say that I doubt this demographic's sincere commitment to Christ). The thing that disappoints me about conservative Christianity is that you are often expected to accept your beliefs as a ‘package deal’ and you are seen as weird if you think differently on certain points. Also, the expectations of how women are supposed to conduct their lives within conservative Christianity is borderline stifling, even though I know many women who enjoy that lifestyle......I am just a fish out of water there, and so is my husband." – Reh

• "What disappoints me is the sense that either/both sides are close-minded. Even among the liberal ones who speak of openness and respect and listening to each other, there is palpable disdain for the conservative and evangelical opinions. (And I can say that since I am a member of probably the most liberal Christian denomination right now and have heard some of these comments.)" – Susan

• “I'm definitely in the middle, but wouldn't say I feel ‘caught’ there -- we've got a lot of company these days! Disappointed on the conservative side when I run into judgmentalism, legalism, and a fear of engaging with Scripture (and reality) in its full messy ambiguity. Disappointed on the liberal side when I run into smugness, reductionism, and embarrassment at the supernatural.” - Joel

• “The disappointment, for me, lies within the existence of partisanship within these two ideologies. I believe it is the allowance of the ‘us vs. them’ mentality within these two factions that creates a continuum of animosity and a refusal to collaborate and compromise. Having a difference of opinion is one thing. But treating those differences as two opposing sports teams attempting to win the ‘game’ (sometimes at all costs) is detrimental to both sides.” – Josh

• "I take the teachings of Jesus too seriously to be welcome among conservatives and take the rest of the Bible too seriously to be welcome among liberals. So rather than feeling caught between them, I feel like I'm alienated by both." - Mike
 
• “What disappoints me on both ends of the spectrum is the misplacement of importance on things other than Jesus. Jesus is what all of this is about, and whenever we make it about anything else, we are losing sight of the goal and the point.” – Amy

• “YES! My understanding of the two may not be accurate, but from my understanding of what that means, I often feel in the middle. By my liberal friends I'm accused of being too conservative and by my conservative friends I'm painted a flaming liberal. I'm disappointed with conservative evangelicalism because they seem legalistic and fearful. So many opinions seem driven by fear. I'm disappointed with liberal Protestantism because of a tendency to reject the institution completely just because it's an institution and to "buck" tradition and authority...For me, I need to combine the best aspects of where Christianity is going with the best aspects of where it has been to find a faith that feels authentic to me and what I believe about God and His bride. Right now, it feels like a fight to prove who is right, with both sides going more extreme than finding a middle where we take the best of both and find a faith that will actually change the world.” – Carrie

• "Neither have room for the idea that having all the answers might not be possible." – Corinne

Some of you confessed that, rather than accepting one Christian “package” or the other, you’ve simply bowed out of church altogether—unable to fit into either group. (I can certainly relate to this dilemma.) Multiple studies suggest that this is exactly what’s happening, as young adults in particular leave the Church in droves. I suspect that the liberal/conservative divide itself is a factor in these declining numbers, and yet the divide grows with every new disconcerting study as liberals and conservatives point at one another and yell, “It’s your fault!”

Frankly, I find the whole conversation a bit depressing. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want either group to “meet its demise” because I love elements of both! In fact, I think there are a lot of progressive, mainline churches that could benefit from a shot of evangelicalism, and a lot of evangelical churches who could benefit from a shot of progressivism. We have so much to learn from one another, but instead we’re like a pair of toddlers fighting over space in the sandbox.

But if the early church could survive—and in fact, thrive amidst persecution—when it included both Jews and Gentiles, zealots and tax collectors, slaves and owners, men and women, those in support of circumcision and those against it, those staunchly opposed to eating food that had been sacrificed to idols and those who felt it necessary, then I think modern American Christianity can survive when it includes democrats and republicans, biblical literalists and biblical non-literalists, Calvinists and Arminians...so long as we’re not rooting for one another’s demise.

With this in mind, maybe being “in between” isn’t so bad. Maybe being “in between” puts those of us who find ourselves torn between conservative Christianity and liberal Christianity in a position to act as peacemakers and bridge-builders between the two groups. Maybe it enables us to help break down these binaries altogether, as we are living proof that you don’t have to choose one or the other.

I’m not exactly sure what this peacemaking process will look like, but I have a few ideas of how we can get started:

Let’s be ourselves

This may surprise you, seeing as how I’m a blogger with an outspoken opinion on everything, but when I’m a part of a conservative Christian community, I tend to keep my more progressive views quiet, and when I’m a part of a more liberal Christian community, I tend to keep my more liberal views quiet. I don’t want to cause division. I don’t want to be shamed. I don’t want to make Sunday mornings any more difficult than they already are.

And so I essentially fake it through worship and community activities, accepting whatever “package” that particular church has to offer, then feeling distant and removed as I go through the motions before eventually quitting.

But what if I stopped faking it? What if I brought myself—my gifts, my questions, my opinions—to church? What if, instead of conforming to the mold, I refused to accept it?

When I think of someone doing this well, I think of my friend Alise Wright. Alise, whose best friend is gay, is openly gay-affirming, and yet she continues to attend and serve a more conservative church where few of her fellow worshipers would agree with her position on homosexuality. In fact, she helps lead worship every Sunday! What I love about Alise is that she’ll straight-up tell you what she thinks about something, but never demand that you agree. She doesn’t make a big stink about it; she just participates in her faith community as herself, refusing to accept the “package deal.”

Perhaps church leaders will lay off some of the “us vs. them” language from the pulpit when they realize that characteristics they typically associate with “them” exist in some of “us.” This begins with all of us being more honest with one another.

Let’s create and nurture diverse communities of faith

As you know, we tried to start a church that was a blend of evangelicalism and progressivism here in Dayton and it didn’t exactly pan out. For a while, this made me skeptical that such a community could survive anywhere, but then I started to travel.

I was invited to speak to faith communities that displayed a crazy blend of evangelical fervor and progressive inclusivism, that included a diverse group of people politically, theologically, and socially, and that loved one another like I’ve never seen before. More and more of these communities are popping up around the country. I think of RISE Church in Harrisonburg (United Methodist), Missiongathering in San Diego (Disciples of Christ), The Refuge (non-denominational) and The House for All Sinners and Saints (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) in Denver, and many more.

None of these communities look exactly the same—(some are more conservative/progressive than others and worship styles vary)—but that’s exactly why they are thriving. They’re not buying into the “package deal.” The existence of these communities should encourage us. They speak to the fact that there is a grassroots movement afoot that transcends old labels and that may very well give us a glimpse of the future of Christianity in America.

Let’s learn to argue better

I have no problem with Christians arguing with one another. Really. We’re brothers and sisters, for goodness sake! Of course we’re going to argue! We just need to learn to do it better.

Obviously, because some disagreements have practical implications that affect worship and organization, denominations will continue to exist. I think that’s a good thing. The notion of a homogeneous Church that looks exactly the same in doctrine and practice from congregation to congregation, culture to culture, community to community, is unrealistic and unhelpful. But surely we can allow these differences to exist without questioning one another’s commitment to the faith and without rooting for one another’s demise!

For example, I will continue to speak out passionately against the patriarchy advocated by folks like John Piper because I feel strongly that the Church is better served when men and women are treated as functional equals. But if John and I had the chance to share communion together—to partake together of the body and blood of Christ—I would do it in heartbeat. I disagree with him, but he is my brother. We have more commonalities than differences. I think we just forget sometimes that we argue because of what we have in common.

Conservative, liberal, or in-between, we should continue to debate the doctrines and practices closest to our hearts. Unity is not the same as uniformity. But when we debate, we should do it assuming the best about one another, taking our thumbs off the scale, honoring our shared commitment to Christ.

We don’t have to be on the same page on every issue in order to love one another and work for peace.

Father Martin Laird on Contemplative Prayer

December 16th, 2011

Father Martin Laird

http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/episodes/december-16-2011/father-martin-laird/10017/

KATE OLSON: Mt. Desert Island, off the coast of Maine, widely known as the home to the spectacular Acadia National Park. Here, at St. Andrew by the Lake Episcopal Church, a community of spiritual seekers gathered recently to hear about the Christian practice of contemplation from Martin Laird.

MARTIN LAIRD: (Speaking at St. Andrew) To navigate this ancient way of prayer is to “put out into the deep,” as Luke says, let down our nets for our catch. Paradoxically, we discover that it is we ourselves who are caught and held in this net…

OLSON: This is the central insight and discovery in the practice of contemplation, Laird says that the God we are seeking has already sought and found us. We simply are not aware of this union.

LAIRD: The great obstacle that actually creates the illusion that we are separate from God and therefore need to seek God as though God were in that room over there is what I call the great cocktail party going on in our heads — interior noise and that creates the illusion that we are separate from God. As God’s creation, we can’t be separate from God.

OLSON: We can quiet this inner chatter in our minds, Laird says, by learning the same practical skills used by the early Christian contemplatives. The practice emphasizes the cultivation of concentration through a short prayer or prayer word, often inspired by Scripture, united with the breath.

LAIRD: That’s really is a classic example of something that is simple but not easy. If one practices with a prayer word in one’s breath, as soon as you become aware that your attention has been stolen, which is every nano second, you bring it back. The practice is never trying not to be distracted. As St. Theresa of Avila says, “If you try not to have thoughts, they will come from the four corners of the Earth.”

OLSON: A scholar of the early church, Laird says Christians can trace the practice of contemplation back to Jesus himself, citing Evagrius, one of the early Christian contemplatives of the 4th century.

LAIRD: Listening to the account of Jesus’ temptation in the desert, Evagrius observed something about Jesus, that Jesus avoided getting caught up in any sort of conversation with Satan. Jesus broke the cycle of inner chatter by a word from Scripture.

OLSON: Early Christian contemplatives known as the desert fathers and mothers, followed Jesus’ example and quoted passages from scripture, even the simple name of Jesus, to break free of the snare of thoughts and enter into silent prayer.

LAIRD: “No thought can capture God,” St. Gregory of Nissa says, “If you form a concept of God, you’ve made an idol of God.” St. Augustine says, “If you think you have understood God, you may be sure it was not God you understood.” And so in the deeper levels of the practice of contemplation, you are even letting go of holy pious thoughts.

OLSON: Laird now teaches at Villanova University near Philadelphia, which was founded by the Augustinians in 1842. For the past ten years, he has taught a course on the classical Christian texts and practice of silent prayer and meditation. In his course, Laird offers what he calls a “lab” to his students. Each class begins with 15 minutes of silence, and he asks his students to spend ten minutes a day in silent meditation outside of class.

The day we visited, Laird was reviewing what the students had learned about quieting the inner chatter in their minds, and dealing with distractions around them, such as the construction noise outside their classroom window.

LAIRD: What do I do if I’m bothered by all the machinery outside?

STUDENT: Well, that’s the purpose of the anchor. When your mind wanders to the machinery, you can remind yourself with the simple word or the simplicity of your breathing. It gives you something to say, “I need to bring it back.”

STUDENT: As you develop a practice – it’s a practice just like working out – you start to realize there is a part of you that’s independent of your mind. As you get deeper into the practice, you cultivate that place of inner stillness, and after you recognize that, you can let thoughts in your head just be there like you let the sounds around you be there.

LAIRD: As the process deepens, and it does deepen, it will unblock things that are getting in the way, some of these things, that we would rather not see. Contemplation is not an aerosol spray to get rid of bad odors we just don’t want to encounter. We meet our self-centeredness, we meet our wounds, our flaws, our faults but at the depths of it, if you look deeply enough into your own wounds, you see not your own face but the face of God. But there one finds freedom, a fundamental peace. All hell may be breaking loose in your life, or everything may be going well or some combination of the two, but there is a bedrock peace that is you.

(Speaking to class) Evagrius said once you obtain this state of “apothia” – this deep calm gives birth to love.

It is our love that brings us into communion with God, not our knowledge about God. It’s the difference between looking at a photograph of someone you know and looking into the eyes of someone you love.

OLSON: This abiding love leads one out into the world to truly serve others, Laird says. He quotes a spiritual mentor, St. Thomas of Villanova:

LAIRD: “That the doorway into the service of the wider church is through contemplation.” So first, you must become a contemplative. Then you’re qualified to serve others.

What awakens in this awareness is the sanctity of the other, and to see how all things are reflections of this mystery that we call God. We’re simply one with all that is, the way that God is one with all that is. And the illusion that we can possibly or have ever been separate from God falls away.

OLSON: For Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly, this is Kate Olson on Mt. Desert Island, Maine.

Emergent Christianity, Anabaptism, and Evangelicalism as Ethos and Movements

Introduction

Upon reading Dr. Olson's recent article on Evangelicalism below I was left asking what are the distinctives of Emergent Christianity that make it what it is today as an ethos and as a movement? This has been repeatedly addressed within Relevancy22 (see sidebars - A Letter of Welcome, and, Emergent Christianity Defined, for samplings) but it has left me wondering if Emergent Christianity can be so simply summarized by so simply stating that it is (i) an expanded version of an old evangelical ethos that is both more open, and less rigorously dependent upon, favored evangelical dogmas and, (ii) composed of past evangelicals who may be more politically-moderate, including those with leftist leanings, wrapped around democratic (party) mantras (with or without formal political affiliations and PAC group endorsements).

Both seem true, but in another sense, Emergent Christianity is more than these mere observations as it addresses society's evolving post-modernistic cultures and socio-cultural multi-ethnic pluralisms. By adding these last two social qualifiers we then "gin up" both the Emergent ethos and the Emergent political overtones into areas of social activism, social involvement, and social identity, that would give to past Evangelical Christians now involved in Emergent Christian churches, more societal relevancy and pervasiveness than they lately had publically received - or been granted - by the social media under their previous Evangelical banners and stigma.


Overtones to Anabaptism

At least that is my short answer when observing recent religious trends found within Emergent Christianity during this past decade or two of its birth (roughly beginning in the 1990s) and its rapid outgrowth away from right-wing,  tea-party conservatism, as found within standard Evangelicalism as media-defined. However, even as Emergent Christians negotiate their own post-modernistic entry into the 21st century world of politics and societal involvement, let us not forget Anabaptism's initial entry through its newly-embraced, more recent fellowships, entering into its politically-neutral folds to serve Jesus through community involvement and church-based social agency. Anabaptists were once politically engaged in later European history, but because of its experience of deadly martyrdom and persecution became quickly disengaged towards a political position of neutrality. This was because Anabaptism as an ethos and movement was perceived by European Christians at the time as infringing upon their own ethos and movements. An experience that Emergent Christians can sympathize with given the harsh rhetoric it has received these past many years from Evangelical presses, pulpits, and academic institutions. As a primer to Anabaptism let us quote Wikipedia:


Anabaptist Persecutions and Migrations to America
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anabaptism
 

The burning of a 16th-century Dutch Anabaptist Anneken Hendriks,
who was charged by the Spanish Inquisition with heresy.

"Roman Catholics and Protestants alike persecuted the Anabaptists, resorting to torture and execution in attempts to curb the growth of the movement. The Protestants under Zwingli were the first to persecute the Anabaptists, with Felix Manz becoming the first martyr in 1527. On May 20, 1527, Roman Catholic authorities executed Michael Sattler. King Ferdinand declared drowning (called the third baptism) "the best antidote to Anabaptism". The Tudor regime, even the Protestant monarchs (Edward VI of England and Elizabeth I of England), persecuted Anabaptists as they were deemed too radical and therefore a danger to religious stability. The persecution of Anabaptists was condoned by ancient laws of Theodosius I and Justinian I that were passed against the Donatists, which decreed the death penalty for any who practiced rebaptism. Martyrs Mirror, by Thieleman J. van Braght, describes the persecution and execution of thousands of Anabaptists in various parts of Europe between 1525 and 1660. Continuing persecution in Europe was largely responsible for the mass emigrations to North America by Amish, Hutterites, and Mennonites." - Wikipedia


A Likely Half-Brother

In a sense, Anabaptism's updated half-brother is that of postmodern Emergent Christianity which shares the same passionate drive to tell of Jesus to all the world's cultures. Similar to Anabaptism, we can find some Emergent Christians willing to politically detach themselves from American politics for the sake of the gospel's ministry. But unlike Anabaptism's historic political neutrality, we find even more Emergent Christians willing to engage American politics from a moderate, or leftist, position. Hence Emergent Christianity's stance of neutrality, or moderate/leftist sympathies, has no less marked itself from rightist Evangelical banning than has its theologies showing the same. As such, one could perceive Emergent Christians as those unwilling to be defined within Evangelicalism's narrowly perceived brand of political agendas; nor by Evangelicalism's sub-culture of bible-beltways; nor by its politically-and-theologically regressive communities; nor by its politically-conservative, hot-button issues; nor even by Evangelicalism's conservative missional rhetorics and bombastic evangelistic pulpiteering to the masses.

Thus, one could make the argument that Emergent Christianity is both like-and-unlike Anabaptism on the one hand, even as it is a more recent outgrowth from conservative Evangelicalism on the other hand. It differs from Anabaptism in its perception of involvement within the political spheres of American life. And differs from Evangelicalism in its movement away from conservative American politics. Because Anabaptism is neutral in its stance to political engagement, Emergent Christianity has not been deemed a threat to its faith and way-of-life. In fact, Anabaptists may even secretly admire their Emergent brethren for standing up for the rights of the unempowered, disenfranchised, impoverished classes of America. Whereas right-wing, conservative Evangelicalism would not be so sympathetic, blasting Emergent Christianity for its differences from itself both politically and theologically.


Conclusion

Hence, even though Emergent Christianity is a resultant outgrowth (in part) from Evangelicalism, it is also a half-brother to Anabaptism. And like both, is willing to make claims as to its right of identity and progeny, its political involvements and objectives, even as it elicits a newer comprehension of the Christian gospel of Jesus entering into a postmodern global environment of social networking, open dialogue and communication, and multi-ethnic pluralism. Each social perception is an important theological qualifier as Emergent Christianity comprehends itself of the missional work of Jesus having judged their social involvement and purposeful admission within the family tree of God as one-and-the-same with earlier historical Christian ethos and movements however politically regarded or perceived by opposing political religious groups. Depending on one's political point-of-view, it can be considered a political friend or a political rival. For myself, I think there is plenty of room in the family of God for both, and especially so in an America dedicated to political equality and balance-of-power, demarcated by its mottos of "Liberty and Freedom for All."

R. E. Slater

July 14, 2012

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

New and forthcoming books about evangelicalism

(and my thoughts about this concept)
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogereolson/2012/07/1403/

by Roger Olson
July 13, 2012

Recently there have been some new books on the popular subject of “evangelical” and “evangelicalism.” It seems that in the past, perhaps as recently as the 1960s and 1970s, most people including most scholars knew what these terms meant. It was kind of like pornography according to the Supreme Court justice who said “I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it.” We just kind of “knew” other evangelicals when we met them. Then there were the odd cases nobody quite knew what to do with. Are Seventh-Day Adventists evangelicals (if they want to be)? Donald Grey Barnhouse and Walter Martin stirred up a hornets nest in the 1970s by suggesting they (or at least some of them) might be.

Then there has always been the discussion about Southern Baptists. We in the north considered it obvious (that Southern Baptists are evangelicals) even if the SBC wouldn’t join the National Association of Evangelicals. Of course the SBC was evangelical, whether they liked the term or not.

All this points to a very important distinction that I still don’t think most writers about evangelical and evangelicalism have grasped or made sufficient use of. The distinction is between evangelical as an ethos and evangelical as a movement. Somehow, over the years, some people and organizations have become attached to the “evangelical movement” who don’t really have an evangelical ethos. And many have an evangelical ethos who don’t quite fit comfortably in the evangelical movement—especially as it has both broadened and narrowed.

There’s the interesting paradox about the movement. On the one hand, to some people’s way of thinking, it has become so broad and amorphous as to be meaningless. There’s really no even relatively cohesive movement anymore. How can one movement include both Joel Osteen and Michael Horton? And yet, many observers of the evangelical movement in America would put them both in it. (That’s kind of like putting Shirley MacLaine and David Spangler in the New Age Movement. But it happens and seems to work—if you’re comfortable with one movement including spiritual flakes and serious thinkers. Both are devotees of the esoteric, so they go in the catch-all category “New Age.”)

What do Joel Osteen and Michael Horton have in common that causes both to be considered members of the evangelical movement by many people? Well, both at least claim they believe in the authority of Scripture, the deity of Jesus Christ, conversion to Christ by faith, a supernatural world view and salvation through the cross of Jesus Christ. Compared to secularism, that’s a lot of common ground!

I think it’s helpful to distinguish, though, between an “evangelical ethos” and the “evangelical movement.” Surely they overlap a lot, but one is a certain attitude toward reality (supernatural reality), the Bible (supreme authority for faith and practice because supernaturally inspired by God), personal decision for Christ by faith as beginning (or at least crucial step) of authentic Christian living (conversionism), the cross of Jesus as the basis of salvation, activism through witness and/or social transformation. The evangelical ethos is heavily influenced by Pietism and Revivalism although it does not necessarily include outward emotional displays. It believes in transformed affections and amendment of life by God’s grace through the work of the Holy Spirit. That ethos can be found in many denominations in America including some Catholic churches.

Now, some will insist on adding to that ethos conservative doctrinal belief and I think there’s truth in that, but you can find conservative doctrinal belief where there is no evangelical ethos. Not every conservative Protestant, for example, is truly evangelical in this sense.

Some years ago I received a call from a well-known Lutheran theologian who hosted ecumenical dialogue events. He asked me to recommend a “real evangelical” to speak at one. I mentioned a well-known conservative Methodist theologian. The Lutheran theologian snorted and said “He’s just a conservative Methodist.” I had to agree. I had no reason to think he lived out of an evangelical ethos. So I mentioned the Reformed president of a leading evangelical seminary. The Lutheran theologian said “Yes!” and that’s who they invited. Many would consider both the conservative Methodist and the Reformed seminary president “evangelical” just because they are both noted for being relatively conservative doctrinally. But only the Reformed seminary president is ALSO noted for piety.

Now, the evangelical movement is a strange beast. On the one hand, it’s so large and amorphous as to be a figment of people’s imaginations. On the other hand it’s so narrow and focused on conservative social and political issues as to be an exclusive club populated virtually only by Religious Right and neo-fundamentalists. The first sense of it is still associated with Billy Graham. As one Lutheran observer and commentator on evangelicalism said “An evangelical is anyone who likes Billy Graham.” The second sense is associated in many people’s minds especially with James Dobson and Al Mohler.

My experience is that the secular media use both senses. Sometimes they talk about “evangelicals” as a huge segment of the population who claim to be “born again.” Other times they talk about “evangelicals” as ultra-conservative Protestants who vote in a block based on two main issues—homosexuality (opposition to “gay marriage”) and abortion (opposition to all abortions except perhaps to save the mother’s life).

It’s no wonder we’re all confused about evangelical and evangelicalism.

I try to remember to make clear whether I am talking about the ethos or the movement (in one of its senses) when I talk about “evangelical.” I am most certainly evangelical in the ethos sense and so are the vast majority of Baptists, Free Church Protestants, Pentecostals, Anabaptists, conservative Presbyterians and Methodists, Holiness (Nazarene, etc.), and charismatic Lutherans and Catholics.

I have more trouble including myself in today’s evangelical movement; I identify with the evangelical movement BEFORE it became so amorphous as to be almost meaningless and at the same time so narrow as to be exclusive and largely determined by “group think” about conservative social, political and doctrinal issues (such as inerrancy of the Bible).

One forthcoming book on evangelicalism I highly recommend is Power, Politics and the Fragmentation of Evangelicalism from the Scopes Trial to the Obama Administration by Wesleyan scholar Kenneth J. Collins (Asbury). I’m not sure when it will be published by InterVarsity Press but probably in October. The focus of the book is evangelical engagements with power in the political sense. I think (in the early version I read) Collins is wrong about the “evangelical left.” I don’t think there has been (at least in the 20^th century and today) an evangelical “left” in the same sense as the “Religious Right.” There have been and are evangelical “lefties” (socially, politically) but they have never been as organized or as powerful or as identified with a political party as the evangelical right has been and is. I think the comparison breaks down in that the main representatives of the evangelical left (e.g., Jim Wallis) have never used the power tactics Religious Right evangelicals have commonly used (e.g., “voter guides” that are really disguised political campaign literature).

However, Collins’ book is an excellent critical survey of evangelical engagements with politics throughout the 20^th century. As with all the other books on evangelicalism, however, I think it could do more with my distinction between evangelical “ethos” and “movement.”

A recently published e-book I can highly recommend is Frank Viola’s Beyond Evangelical. (http://frankviola.org/evangelical.htm.) I may want to blog about this one more specifically and at greater length later. Viola is a prolific writer about evangelical Christianity and this is one of his boldest books yet. It contains many quotations from people (including yours truly) who are disillusioned with the current state of evangelicalism as a movement but who love an evangelical ethos. I think this book could also benefit from making explicit use of that distinction.

Another one is The Activist Impulse: Essays on the Intersection of Evangelicalism and Anabaptism edited by Jared Burkholder and David C. Cramer and published by Pickwick. It contains fifteen chapters (including the Introduction) about anabaptism and evangelicalism. I think the whole debate about the relationship between anabaptism and evangelicalism can be solved by my distinction between ethos and movement: most anabaptists are evangelicals by ethos; some are also movement evangelicals (but some most definitely do not want to be part of the evangelical movement especially in the narrow sense of social, political and doctrinal conservatism).

There’s been a long debate going on among Southern Baptists (and SBC exiles in the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship) about whether Southern Baptists/southern baptists are evangelicals. Of course they are ethos-wise. Many are not movement-wise. But most are even movement-wise in the broad, relatively amorphous sense of the evangelical movement.

Somehow over the years many southern evangelicals have come to identify “evangelical” with a “Yankee” phenomenon, form of religious life. When I moved to the south to teach theology an old-time Southern Baptist (but in exile from the SBC) seminary dean (my then boss) told me to visit Baptist churches in small towns to see what they are like. He assumed there were big differences between them and the Baptist and evangelical churches I came from in the Upper Midwest. Not so. The very first one I visited in a small town was exactly like any small town Baptist church in the Upper Midwest (except the accent): same songs sung, same order of worship (informal but somewhat planned), same preaching style, same invitation/altar call, same everything (except the accent). Just different names (all initials) for youth group, women’s group, etc.

The main thing I want to emphasize again here is the distinction between evangelicalism as an ethos and evangelicalism as a movement (really two movements—one larger that includes the other).

When I say I’m an evangelical I definitely mean in the ethos sense. When I identify with the evangelical movement I mean the one that I grew up in and still exists somewhere and somehow although it’s hard to find. The National Association of Evangelicals is one remnant of it. I most decidedly do NOT mean the narrow, exclusive, mostly Reformed, neo-fundamentalist one associated in most people’s minds with Dobson and Mohler and their ilk. They and I share an evangelical ethos, but that’s about all.

[It's a curiousity that we have to define ourselves by what we are not... but alas, it has come to this.... - res]

Jesus, The True Remedy for any Addiction We Fight

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/whole-life/reversing-grip-addiction#overlay-context=life/whole-life/reversing-grip-addiction

Reversing the Grip of Addiction

By April Byrd
July 13, 2012

April D. Byrd is a writer located near Atlanta, GA. She is the founder and editor of the blog Breath Of Life Daily, a site dedicated to be a resource of inspiration and celebrate life as it's lived. For more insights and inspiration follow her follow her on Twitter @aprilinspired.

Ask any child of an alcoholic or drug abuser and they will tell you—addictions are ugly. As a firsthand witness of my mother’s struggle as a child, I will tell you the same. It was painful to see how addiction consumed her life and it was hard to be around her when she was in the thick of it. She fought hard, and sometimes her strength came through, but I never knew what type of mood or mindset she would be in. Her instability negatively affected not only her life, but the lives of those around her.

Immediately from birth, life is a shocker. We develop and grow, but there remains a natural human inclination to reach out to anything substantial, to stabilize us and lend us support. For some people, this innate need can turn into a full-blown addiction. In fact, 16 percent of the U.S. population is dependent on alcohol, nicotine, or other drugs.

Addiction has both a personal and national effect. It is a disease that runs its course in the brain, and a new report shows that substance abuse beat out obesity as the number one health problem in America. It is also America's number one healthcare cost, claiming approximately 30 percent of our federal and state healthcare spending.

Many of us do not even realize we suffer from addiction, or we live in denial, but an addiction can still consume and drain us even if we do not acknowledge it. Sadly, the very attempt to gain stability can actually tip our lives into a dangerous imbalance. The overly consuming nature of addiction can take over the minds of addicts, and destroy their lives.

A Surface Cure for a Deeper Problem

But not all addiction is chemically based. We also hold dependencies on things that might not necessarily be negative such as sex, food or social media. But for all the social media junkies out there, America has a bigger problem than our Facebook obsession. With new media and technology advancement, it’s now easier to become addicted to the approval of others. Addictions stem from the need to be satiated and to feel whole or complete, which can be superficially fulfilled with a simple Facebook “like” or admiring blog comment. No matter the substance, the root of addiction is the same: to fill or to meet personal inadequacies. Often an addiction is used as a substitute to avoid having to face a deeper issue.

Given all the studies, there is only one “addiction” that has never produced any negative results.

The obsessive tendency in America abounds, but what if there is such a thing as a good addiction? Is it possible that an addiction could be more productive than consumptive?

A Different Kind of Substance

Given all the studies, there is only one “addiction” that has never produced any negative results. The side effects are more beneficial than terminal, and it actually increases focus rather than inhibiting it.

Perhaps the most controversial dependency of all, the Bible calls faith “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen” (Hebrews 11:1). There may a stigma attached to it at times, but faith is the most captivating power on earth.

Faith is a stimulant, producing with the Holy Spirit the side effects of “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23). Faith is grown by passing the word; it is more powerful when it is lit with passion. It is life-changing for those who receive it. It empowers us to overcome, instead of going under. And many of us can speak of the medicinal quality of joy and laughter.

Choosing Better Habits

Addictive tendencies can result from suppressed passion, so activate your faith and allow it to stimulate your life. Stay busy, and feed those activities that drive your passion. We are all given something that we’re good at and love. Choose something that creates a positive and productive effect in your life, and go for it. Keep your hands and your mind busy. Actively pursue your passion, instead of waiting for it to come to you.

Also, keep in mind that faith is based in trust. Just like the good force behind every AA meeting, support is essential, and you are never alone. There is someone in your corner you can always turn to. Even if our parents are not physically or even mentally there, we have a Father who loves us. He knows all, sees all and cares immensely.

When I was eighteen, my mother lost her life battling a drug addiction, and I will miss having her as an active part of my life because of it. I know all too well the toxic toll an addiction can take on a life, but I also know what it means to be whole because of faith. The greatest substance I know of is faith in Christ—the true remedy for any void we try to fill through an addiction.

The Future Might be Risky, But So Is the Past

http://peterrollins.net/?p=3807

by Peter Rollins
posted 12/7/12

Our futures stretch out in front of us much like a path engulfed by fog. While decisions we make here and now can help us to guess what may lie down the road, we can never know for sure what we’ll find there. There will be births and deaths, the finding of meaning and the loss of it, illnesses will come and go and economic changes will impact our lives in ways that we may not even realise.

In the face of such uncertainty we might say to ourselves that at least the past isn’t risky. It is over. Done. Finished. And yet, for good or for bad, the reality is a little different.

We tend to think that cause is used up in effect. In other words, cause and effect work in a linear way with the cause coming first and the effect coming after. And yet in the world of subjective experience things are a little different. This can be seen most clearly in language itself. At its most simple, the last words in a sentence can radically change the meaning that we had ascribed to the previous words. Here, what comes after, can effect how we interpret what came before. In this way what comes later retroactively impacts what came previously.

One of the ways that we see this play out is when talking about a breakup. Sometimes we can talk in such a way that it would appear that there was nothing good about the person we had lived with. Of course the relationship might have been fraught with difficulties from the outset, however we often find that it is the subsequent actions that have transformed the way that we understand what took place previously, thus fundamentally changing our interpretation of the past.

Is this not what we see in the French film 5×2 directed by François Ozon? By employing an inverted chronological structure the film begins at the troubled end of a relationship and then moves backwards. Ending with the couples chance meeting at a beach resort. In this way the viewer is invited to interpret what went before in light of what happened at the end, thus exposing how later events impact how we read previous ones.

While the idea of the future being able to rob the past can be scary it can also be a liberating reality. For many of us have had lives full of pain. There might be years, even decades, that we feel were wasted. It can feel as if the past is past and that regret is all we will ever feel. Yet the past can be changed. Something can happen today that causes us to radically reinterpret it. Perhaps, in light of the new reality, we start to view it like a prophecy pointing to toward the present, or a period of waiting or preparing. The point is that there is no way of nailing a single meaning to historical situations. To live is to risk. To risk the past as much as the future.

Fog, by R.E. Slater - http://reslater.blogspot.com/2011/10/re-slater-fog.html

9 Quick Ways to Get "Depressed"

Photo via Shutterstock

 

9 Quick Ways to Get "Depressed"

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/whole-life/9-quick-ways-get-depressed      

By Nicole Unice
July 11, 2012

Nicole Unice is a counselor, ministry leader and author of She’s Got Issues (Tyndale, 2012). Her 20-something volunteers call her their “life coach.” She calls them friends. Connect with her on Twitter or at her website.

There are those who are truly depressed, and then those who are "depressed." To achieve the latter, simply follow these 9 steps and you'll be a self-pitying sad sack in no time.

“I don’t know … I just wonder if I might be depressed.” As a counselor and ministry leader, I’m often the one who hears about how people are “really” doing. And for every 10 times I’ve been consulted about a bleak mood, only two or three of my 20-something friends actually has diagnosable and clinical depression.

The rest of them are experiencing a tough spell, a general malaise, a “meh” mood, and most were even contributing to that mood with their own life choices. How about you? Here’s 10 quick ways to find yourself down and deflated:

1) Nurse Resentments

Assume the worst in people. When you feel ignored, misunderstood or mistreated, assume it’s because the person really hates you and is disgusted by your presence. Enter a cycle of hating yourself and hating other people. Repeat this script to yourself all day and night, and subject yourself to the mental equivalent of grabbing a shovel and digging your own grave.

2) Live in the Past

While you are busy nursing resentments, go ahead and let yourself think of all the other times the same thing has happened. Make sure you color a rosy glow over everything from the past you wish you still had, and a black cloud of doom over everything from the past that was painful. Create a story of extremes, and look for ways to repeat the cycle in your current life.

3) Ignore Your Body

Don’t listen to your body. If you feel tired, don’t rest. If you have an erratic sleep schedule, keep at it. Also, eat a lot of processed junk food that will shoot your blood sugar to the stratosphere and then send you crashing down without a parachute. Eat when you are stressed, stock up on caffeine when you are tired, and keep at it for more than three days in a row. When you feel run down, don’t listen. When you need to relieve stress by exercise, have a Red Bull instead.

If you want to be depressed, just go about this world as if you can be healthy without working at it at all.

4) Ignore Your Soul

Pretend you are a machine. Don’t think too hard about the junk you are feeding your soul, just assume that it all filters out and you aren’t affected by wasted time, sad love songs, boredom, stupid YouTube videos or sarcastic, misogynistic movies. Don’t take your soul seriously. Make sure you don’t read or listen to anything edifying throughout your day. Just go about this world as if you can be healthy without working at it at all.

5) Believe the Lie That Everyone Has It All Together ... Except You

Believe TV. Believe romantic comedies. Look around at your acquaintances and believe that their life is so much better than yours.

6) Become a Cynic

Start to believe the following things: people don’t change, life generally sucks and avoiding pain is more important than risking love.

7) Never Cry

Don’t ever show weakness. Don’t be sad. Don’t cry. If you ever think the dam is about to break, hold back the tears with all the strength you can muster. Completely ignore any reason why you might be crying, and if you do think about it for a few minutes, make sure you tell yourself that whatever loss or pain is causing you to be upset is definitely stupid and unimportant.

8) Never Apologize

Don’t ever admit to being wrong. Even when you know you are wrong, justify your reasons. Let your self-defense keep you puffed up and protected. Choose to guard yourself over loving the people around you who need to know that you are, in fact, human and make mistakes. Tell yourself that they’ll get over it, and carry on.

9) Maintain an Impossible Standard for Yourself and Everyone Else

Set yourself up for failure. Make sure you believe that everything you ever attempt must be a stellar success, that failure is not an option. Listen to the part of you that’s terrified at failing and will prevent you from ever trying anything, or listen to the part of you that believes you’ll always do it right, and try, fail and hate yourself. Expect the same from everyone around you. Expect those you love to always know what to say and to do to make you feel better. When they don’t, use the same self-loathing voices that you beat yourself with to push back.

I believe we all have our 10th way to get depressed, but it’s unique to you. Perhaps its about being with an unhealthy friendship that brings you down. Maybe it’s stalking someone on Facebook that you need to unfriend. Maybe it’s a phone number you need to delete from your phone.

Maybe you read through these steps and none of them sound good to you. In that case, take all 10 steps, reverse, and be healthy.

Free depression inventories can be a helpful tool to evaluate the severity of your mood. You can take this one developed by the Mayo Clinic for more information.