This post was written by Randy Newman on September 25, 2008
Christianity is an intelligent faith. It demands and encourages thought.
Consider the many exhortations to recall to mind the past deeds of the Lord. The Psalms model and urge us to “remember,” “meditate,” “reflect,” and “dwell on” the truths about God and his dealings. (See, for example, Psalm 77:10). The person who will be like a tree instead of like chaff attains this by “meditating on the law of the Lord” (Psalm 1:2). Note that the same verb, translated as “plot against” is used in the partner Psalm (2:1) to show that every mind is engaged in one way or another: either for God and his law or against him and his anointed one.
At crucial points in the epistles, we are told to “renew our minds” (Rom 12:1), “set our minds” (Col. 3:1), and to be “like-minded” (Phil 2:2).
This contrasts dramatically with Eastern mysticism, which seeks to empty one’s mind of words or content. It also contrasts starkly with common contemporary views of spirituality (even among Christians), which encourage people to feel more than think (as if these two aspects of personhood are in conflict with one another).
On occasion, as I’ve discussed certain topics with Christian friends, I have been told, “You think too much!” Well, I’ve given a lot of thought to this accusation. (This is meant to be a joke!) I think that’s impossible. We cannot think too much. We can think well or we can think poorly. We can think deeply or we can think shallowly. We can think Biblically or we can think with a host of other influences shaping the thoughts in our minds. We can think in ways which mold us into people who resemble Christ or we can think in ways which feed upon lusts, anger, self-righteousness, foolishness, or hopelessness.
Let us think well, actively, continually, deeply, Biblically, prayerfully, and meditatively.
This post was written by Matt Bazemore on September 17, 2008
In Part II of Dynamics of Spiritual Life, Richard Lovelace switches his attention from the aspects of renewal to the renewing of the church. By renewal, he is referring to the sanctification process whereby the Holy Spirit works in the individual, transforming him into the image of Christ. He begins this part of the book with a focus on the local congregation and prescribes some principles for implementing the aspects of renewal covered in Part I of his book. He observes a phenomenon which he calls the sanctification gap, a “conspiracy to somehow mislay the Protestant tradition of spiritual growth and to concentrate instead on frantic witnessing activity, sermons on John 3:16 and theological arguments over eschatological subtleties” (p. 232).
According to Lovelace this laying aside occurred as a reaction to hyper-calvinism. With hyper-calvinism many of the requirements of the Christian life were lumped into conversion (p. 233-5). This implied one had to be a practicing mystic in order to be considered a Christian. The reaction led to a lessening of the requirements for initial conversion. Charles Finney is characteristic of this reaction by his call for “instantaneous commitment and instantaneous conversion.” While hyper-calvinism made it difficult for those to enter the kingdom, the reaction made it easy for people to enter on the basis of simple faith and initial repentance. The result of this reaction was that sanctification was left out of place.
With sanctification out of place Christians were left with a general ignorance of how to grow from the Real to the Ideal. The Ideal is simply that which comes to mind when we think of the end result of the Christian life, i.e. individuals fully transformed into the image of Christ. It also includes the feeling that we often have when we feel like we should be more spiritually mature than we are. The exhortation from many pulpits is to be like Jesus, and three more things to do are adumbrated as application. Unfortunately there is very little connection between such sermons and what believers experience on an every day basis. Hence we feel guilt and shame for not being farther along in our journeys when we fail to measure up. The Real is this every day experience of our own sin that still exists in us. It is the constant awareness that we are not even close to being like Jesus and we have no idea how to change. We are left constantly aware of where we should be, without the knowledge and skill of moving in partnership with the Spirit from where we are in that moment in our growth and development.
The sanctification gap, therefore, is the ignorance of how to move from the Real, where we truly are, toward the Ideal, where Jesus is. Because of the sanctification gap, Christians often engage in frantic witnessing activity, sermons on John 3:16, etc., in order to feel like they are doing something that contributes towards their growth. They do not have the tools, so to speak, to partner with the Spirit in the process of sanctification and are left in the shallowness of outward activity without inner transformation. This shallowness ultimately leaves us thirsty.
As Lovelace closes his chapter he discusses three things of importance regarding the closing of the sanctification gap. I will mention only one. The first thing to do is open ourselves to the truth and recognize that it is there. Our problem, both individually and corporately, is that the content of our spirituality is anemic and superficial and thus people looking in from the outside see a spirituality that does not correspond to our claims about the Christian life. This hurts our credibility. As Lovelace states, “…unless what we export is more than a two-dimensional [i.e. superficial] caricature of Christian spirituality, we will not overcome the credibility gap among consumers” (p. 236).
This is the crucial point for Christians desiring to be faithful in the academy. An anemic spirituality will have at least two effects. First, it will not provide the nourishment that one needs as a redeemed image bearer of God in light of academic culture. Second, Christianity will not be worthy of consideration by those who appreciate having depth or richness of life, which, I think, includes a large number of academics.
This post was written by Randy Newman on September 8, 2008
Many people speak of the current shift from modernism to postmodernism as seismic. Is it really that huge? I believe it is. For years, church historians spoke of the four eras of Christianity – the age of the church fathers, the medieval period, the reformation, and the modern (or post-enlightenment) period. Some suggest that we now add a fifth portion to our time charts. I agree with them.
It’s not just that gradual adjustments are taking place – along the lines of the shifts from the 1930s to the 1940s or other decade passages. Postmodernism and the realities of pluralism are radically (“to the root”) altering how we know not just what we know. In other words, we are in the midst of an epistemological earthquake.
The good news is that we can learn from ways the church responded to other epochal shifts. The bad news is that there are still uncharted, unprecedented waters ahead.
At other times of radical rethinking, the church looked diligently into the Scriptures for clarification and answers to challenges. Emerging from those times of crisis were documents like The Apostles Creed, Martin Luther’s Theses, The Chicago Statement on Inerrancy, and others that helped God’s people think clearly and speak boldly about central tenants of the faith.
We rejected unitarianism in favor of trinitarianism. We said no to universalism and restated the realities of God’s final judgment. We answered the attacks on the scriptures’ authority and accuracy with resolutions about inspiration. We dug into the ancient texts as well as the dusty earth (through archeology) and affirmed that God had indeed spoken and his word was not convoluted.
Today we face challenges no less formidable than the church fathers and the reformers did. We need to follow their lead and not shirk from the attacks. Intellectuals in a wide range of academic fields need to join in the efforts. The task is too multifaceted to rely solely on theologians.
Some are saying we must respond to the shift from modernism to postmodernism by returning to modernism and just restate old arguments – perhaps louder. I think this would be incomplete. Others are saying we need to not only adapt our modes of communication but also change the very content of our message. “Everything must change,” they cry and they really do mean “everything.” I can’t imagine a more foolish response. (Nevertheless, such siren calls are gaining a very large hearing).
It is good that people are asking foundational questions – How do we know anything? Is there anything unique about the scriptures? Can God really be known in a personal way? Is there really only one way to heaven? What exactly did the cross accomplish?
It is bad that many inside the church are retreating in the face of such questions. In the next blog, I’ll offer some suggestions about how we respond in these deeply challenging, opportunity-laden days.
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