New Year’s resolutions and determining “ends” verses “means”

I love New Years because it is a time of reflection. We recognize a dissonance between who we are and who we want to be. Rather than vagabonds we are pilgrims in pursuit of a goal. We want to change some aspect of our lives for the better, so we strive to accomplish a certain end.

I have been thinking a lot about what it means to have an end goal in life. This stems partly from Immanuel Kant who said that people should never treated “merely as a means to an end, but always at the same time as an end.” Jesus also spoke of having an end goal by repeatedly referring to a future reality that we should all  be working towards and fighting for, namely the kingdom of God. However, rather than try and explicate what our end should be, today I want to discuss three examples of things we often mistake for an end goal.

The first is money. As far as I can tell the pursuit of money should never become an end in and of itself. It should always be the means to an end. To better explain, take the practice of filling up your car with gas. We drive to the gas station and “fill ‘er up” to accomplish something else, such as picking up groceries, meeting up with friends, or going to work. And each of those different activities might be an end or a means themselves. We go to work in particular to make money, but we make money in order to live. It is a necessity of life. When we make money an end rather than a means to an end, we will invariably treat people as a means to accomplish our goal of attaining more money. Such a treatment of people is misplaced and wrong.

Secondly, we often place the growth of an organization as an essential end goal. This can be seen easily in business when profit and increased stock prices motivate people to treat others as commodities. Churches as organizations are no exception. Christians often assume that evangelism – the sharing of the story of Jesus – is an end goal to pursue. However, evangelism should always be considered a means to an end. Jesus repeatedly taught that our goal is to love, and when we treat people as objects for conversion we have failed to love them as people. They then become numbers, and “evangelism” morphs into a self-serving enterprise. First and foremost, we are to love; evangelism and marketing should always be a means to that goal.

Lastly, I want to argue that entertainment should also be treated as a means to an end and never as an end itself. This one, I feel, is less cut and dry. For one, I would want to divide entertainment from art, which immediately starts to blur the lines. Music, painting, acting, story and joke-telling, I believe, are all worthy goals to pursue. They, I think, are ways of connecting with that which is beyond us. Further watching TV can often be a time of relaxation or relationship building. But in these examples, entertainment is a means to accomplish something else. Entertainment by itself leads to selfishness and apathy. It does not encourage change, growth, or love but rather stagnation, and so it cannot be an end pursuit.

All in all New Year’s resolutions revolve around questions of “Why am I doing this?”, “What do I want to do instead?”, or perhaps, “Have I mistakenly substituted a means for an end?”

In close, I am curious if you have any critiques of the three examples above. I know they are not airtight arguments, but I am very much open to your thoughts. Or, if other  examples of misplaced means come to mind, share them. I am very interested. Most of what we do is a means, and so it is easy to lose our way. However, we must regularly remember our end goal and realign ourselves in the right direction. God bless you in the journey.

An Introduction to Gustavo Gutierrez and Liberation Theology

Gustavo Gutierrez was born June 8, 1928 in Lima, Peru. In his youth he was afflicted with osteolyelitis, which left him bed-ridden for most of his adolescence and forced him to use a wheel chair from the ages of 12 to 18. In the environment in which he was raised he frequently experienced and observed a world of injustice and inequality, a systematic oppression of the poor. Partly because of his physical condition Gutierrez became an avid reader and excelled in school. He studied medicine and humanities in Peru, went on to Leuven to study philosophy and psychology, and received his doctorate in Lyon. In 1959 he was ordained a priest in the Catholic Church.

Gutierrez is known as the father of liberation theology – the most influential form of theology in Latin America in the late 20^th century. The late 1960s and early 70s was a time of incredible upheaval throughout Latin America. With his publication of A Theology of Liberation in 1971 (arguably the most influential theological work of the 70s and 80s), Gutierrez ushered in a new theological movement, namely Liberation Theology, and became the predominant voice for this new branch of theology. Gutierrez’s theology has led the way for other liberation theologians, and much to his credit advocacy for the poor and providing a voice for the voiceless has become commonplace.

Gustavo Gutierrez’s theology is founded on two specific beliefs: (1) God loves all persons equally and gratuitously; (2) God loves the poor preferentially. At first these two ideas appear contradictory; however, an honest look at the world and the pervasive poverty that abounds therein quickly reveals that for God to refuse to “take sides” would actually benefit the wealthy minority. History is filled with examples of social conflict where a majority of human beings are systematically exploited and denied dignity by a powerful minority. Therefore, a neutral God in this situation who refuses to “take sides” would actually be serving the interests of the privileged. If God’s love does not actively work to transform the unjust status quo, then God’s “neutrality” (disguised as “equal love for all people”) can only legitimize the injustice. A neutral position then becomes impossible; “equal love” gets manipulated into a passive stance that benefits the powerful minority. Gutierrez’s primary starting place in his liberation theology is that Christians ought to have a preferential option for the poor.

Gutierrez’s theology goes on to explain three distinct, yet connected forms of poverty: (1) material poverty, (2) spiritual poverty, and (3) voluntary poverty as protest. Spiritual poverty is typified in the first beatitude of being blessed when “one is poor (Lk)” or “poor in Spirit (Mt).” It is recognizing our humble dependence on God. In the affluent west, we typically interpret “spiritual poverty” to be an emotional ‘detachment’ from one’s material wealth. However, this division between the spiritual and the material, Gutierrez believes, is impossible. Further it then allows us to rationalize our wealth. Gutierrez’s argument is that when we recognize the inherent connection of the spiritual and the material, we move towards having a preference for the poor by protesting the unjust systems at work with our lifestyles – we voluntarily live in simplicity and poverty. We imitate Christ who emptied himself and enter into solidarity with the poor.

Important to his theology, Gutierrez also goes on to describe three types of liberation: (1) political liberation, (2) psychological, or anthropolitical liberation, and (3) liberation from sin. Upon returning to Peru after his studies in Europe he realized that rather than being the effect of laziness or misfortune, he came to see poverty to be largely a structural phenomenon. Political liberation therefore is the transformation of unjust social structures, elimination of immediate causes of poverty and injustice. To change a society’s makeup requires empowerment of the common person and a resilient hope for change. Therefore, the question of how we empower, how we foster hope quickly becomes of paramount importance. Second, liberation encompasses freeing the individual from “those things that limit the capacity to develop themselves freely and in dignity.” Third, liberation for Gutierrez is the freedom we have in Christ, freedom from sin and selfishness which comes from a renewed relationship with God and other people.

A primary critique of liberation theology is its tendency towards violence. Gutierrez, its greatest exponent, has said, “The theology of liberation is rooted in a revolutionary militancy.”[1] However, we also have courageous examples of self-sacrificing love as seen through Archbishop Oscar Romero. Therefore, as in all movements, there exists a diversity of opinions. Gutierrez remains a key voice in liberation theology, which has come to include feminist and black theology. His contribution to theology and the church’s vocation and responsibility to the poor, marginalized, and disenfranchised is unparalleled and will have a lasting impact into the future.

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[1] Gustavo Gutierrez, The Power of the Poor in History. trans. Robert R Barr. (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1983), 205. 

What is authentic worship?

 

Both Amos and Isaiah fully condemn the worship of Israel. Amos speaking the words of God declares, “I hate, I reject your festivals, Nor do I delight in your solemn assemblies… I will not even listen to the sound of your harps.[1] Isaiah similarly proclaims, “Bring your worthless offerings no longer… I cannot endure iniquity and the solemn assembly…. So when you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide My eyes from you.”[2] Their religious assemblies, traditions, and even prayer were utterly rejected by God. In both situations, as they “worshipped” God, their heart was far from God. They were going through the motions of honoring God, but they were willfully living in evil and sin. God rejects purposeful sin as he did with Israel.

Jesus in a similar way condemned the Pharisees. He twice instructs them to go learn what this means: “I desire compassion, and not sacrifice.”[3] Authentic worship is a matter of the heart; our actions ought to reveal what is within the heart.[4] If churches realized and understood what Jesus meant and applied it to the assemblies, the “worship wars” so common today would disappear.

Worship has always been giving our hearts to God. In Seeking a Lasting City the authors explain that our assemblies are a time of sharing our stories, including the hurts, pains, difficulties, and victories that we have experienced. They go on to say, “But we don’t just bring a story – we also meet a story…. Authenticity happens in worship as this story – the Story – encounters ours and makes it meaningful even as it redeems and transforms it.”[5] As we tell our stories, we encounter God’s story in the Bible and it transforms this journey of ours called life. They go on to explain in a very general sense how we can lose authentic worship. They say that “first, if the story of God is never encountered, worship can’t happen…. Second, if God’s story gets presented but never engages our own story, authenticity is not achieved. When this happens, we find ourselves unable to figure our why what we’re doing matters.”[6] God’s story is the foundation to our worship assemblies and from that foundation authentic worship flows.

In his first letter to the Corinthian church, Paul gives some suggestions for how they are to assemble to worship God. He advises:

Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. Give no offense either to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God; just as I also please all men in all things, not seeking my own profit but the profit of the many, so that they may be saved. Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ.[7]

From this passage Hicks and others help us to observe three questions that we are to ask about our assemblies: Do they glorify God? Do we please ourselves or others? Do we point the unbeliever to God?[8] We must ask ourselves when we lead prayer, preach, or pass the communion trays, is this is to lift up God and glorify him or is it to make me look good? Our assemblies are not self-focused glorification but they are to give glory to the one to whom glory is due. When Paul says that he works to “please all men in all things,” he is referring to what benefits others. He is concerned with building them up and doing them good, rather than tearing them down.[9] Our concern in our assemblies ought to be the same. Our goal and focus ought to be to edify others, focusing on how to help the church rather than how the church is supposed to help us. Lastly, Paul notes that our assemblies should also be concerned about unbelievers. Evangelism is part of our assemblies, and it is important that unbelievers are not offended or confused after coming to our assemblies. So often we use religious jargon that the world does not comprehend. We must continually be “translating” the gospel message into a way that all can understand and believe. Furthermore, I often hear preachers who condemn the world for this or that. Granted there is universal truth that must be recognized, but continually dividing “us” – the saved – and “them” – the sinners – is not only offensive but self-righteously arrogant. We are saved, not by anything that we have done, but by grace through faith.[10] Therefore we ought to focus on the ways God has redeemed us as sinners rather than point out how God condemns them.

When we gather together, we must remember that authentic worship is a matter of the heart. It is rehearsing and remembering the story of God and redemptively connecting his story with our own. Lastly, we are to ask: Do our assemblies  glorify God and serve others or do they simply cater to our own interests?[11] Following these biblical guidelines will lead to meaningful, transformative, and authentic worship gatherings.

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[1] Amos 5:21-23 [2] Isaiah 1:11-17 [3] Matthew 9:13; 12:7, quoted from Hosea 6:6 [4] When a husband says “I love you” to his wife, but his actions and non-verbal communication reveal otherwise, she will totally reject his words. When we worship God, we are saying to him, “I love you.” However, if our actions outside of the assembly are contrary to our statement of love (and love of others), then God likewise will totally reject our worship. [5] Love, Seeking a Lasting City,196. [6] Ibid. [7] 1 Corinthians 10:31 – 11:1 [8] Hicks, A Gathered People, 154. [9] Ibid. [10] Ephesians 2:8-9 [11] Hicks, A Gathered People, 155.

Authority of Scripture, Part 1

My last post on how we should understand the Bible seems to take almost a pre-modern view where its authority is assumed. However, for the last 500 years the mantra of Western thought has been to question all authority, including the Church, the Bible, education, family, and government, just to name a few. This begs the question that many have asked and many more will continue to ask, namely “Why should we accept the Bible as authoritative?”

This question of authority deals with foundation. What is the foundation we base our beliefs and morals? Or in other words, where do we begin? And so, for a few posts, here is my present attempt at answering that question.

Before we can answer why the Bible is authoritative, we need to look at this idea of authority. Tim Keller makes the following important observation:

“The root idea of modernity (even more fundamental than confidence in rationality) is the overturning of all authority outside of the self. In the 18th century, European Enlightenment thinkers insisted that the modern person must question all tradition, revelation, and external authority by subjecting them to the supreme court of his or her own reason and intuition. We are our own moral authority.” [1]

Many today claim that we are living in a “post-modern” culture – that we have moved past the vestiges of modernity. And in many ways that is true. Keller argues, however, that rather than being “post-modern”, we are living in a type of “hyper-modernity” because our ideas of authority being rooted in the self are stronger than ever. He continues:

Modern society continued to be dominated by relatively stable institutions for a long time. People still were able to root their identities to a great degree in family and clan, in local civic communities, and in their work or vocation. Yet now even these institutions seem to be passing, worn away by the “acid” of the modern principle, namely individual happiness and autonomy must come before anything else.

The traditional roles of society (“Christian”, “father”, “lawyer”) have been worn away and replaced by the authoritative and autonomous self. You can notice this in conversation as well – that we all make the assumption that there is no true authority outside of the self. The individual autonomous self is the ultimate authority of morality, ethics, and truth. This assumption is what led to our original questioning of the Bible’s authority.

Rather than blindly assume authority of the self, we do need to also question whether it ought to be our ultimate authority. Does the individual self have the capabilities to determine truth by her or himself? Is this assumption even possible to live with? How does relying on the self for authority influence our ideas of freedom and identity? Can we honestly say that the veracity of morality can be determined from within?

Much more could be said about this (and perhaps needs to be said), but regardless, we must realize our dependence on self for authority.

The following song lyrics make a similar statement:

You may be an ambassador to England or France,
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance,
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world,
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody.

–Bob Dylan

We do serve somebody, and it might ourselves. We must all submit to some type of authority whether we recognize it or not.

“please, no thank you.”

Words are amazing.

They help us to think. To express. To share. But they do often fall short.

In learning other languages, we take what we know (that is our native tongues) and apply them to other languages. But our translations are never complete; they can never provide perfect replications.

The most obvious example of this is seem in sound differences, hence the beauty of accents. Think of any non-native English speaker. They all, invariably, will pronounce certain sounds strangely. What they have done is taken a sound from their language and applied to an English situation where the same sound does not exist. Spanish speakers mix the “b” and “v” sounds. Japanese will confuse the “l” and “r”.  And basically no one can say the “th” sound. …man, I’d hate to be a “Jonathan” that is universally mispronounced.  

Another difference is in connotations. All words have definitions and direct meanings (denotations), but they also evoke feelings (connotations). Curse words quickly come to mind. “Bugger” and “bloody” hardly evoke a negative feeling for most Americans, but they are some of the worst words in other English speaking countries. Or if I called you a “turtle egg” or a “dog fart,” you are more likely to laugh than be offended. (Those are bad words in Chinese.) Another fascinating example I found was the differing connotations of “democracy.” In the US, it evokes a sense security, comfort, and perhaps even pride. However, when I mentioned “democracy” to my Chinese friends (in China), their response was filled with fear, insecurity, and discomfort. And I realized their feeling is the same as ours to “communism.” It is interesting that we can have such strong emotions attached to abstract words, which when we are completely honest with ourselves, we often don’t completely understand.

Lastly, when you learn another language, you are able to express things that literally cannot be translated – words with no functional equivalent in your native language. And then when you go back to your home country, you are left speechless in those perfect times where only certain foreign words can fit.

So the word I miss right now is 不用谢. It literally means “no use thanks,” which is typically translated “you’re welcome” or “no problem.” But there are times, perhaps most times, where we shouldn’t use the word “thanks.” To express thanks assumes that the person has freely chosen to do such and such. There is no sense of obligation. And in the land of the free, every good deed deserves proper appreciation. We had a hard time being helped and served (almost daily) while we lived in China, and we always felt the insatiable need to express our gratitude. Our friends would jokingly say “no thank you” to express this desire of not always saying thanks – something our English language lacked. We learned that friends should expect a lot from one another, and we tried to adjust to these higher expectations (which was sometimes tough). We also learned though that sometimes the most beautiful “thank you” is shown and not said. Words regularly fall short of their designed purpose. Language may be deficient in certain expressions, but we may also say things that we do not mean.

Help us to use words to their fullest, but also to learn the beauty of silence. Amen.

A Mystical Connection

The core of what it means to be a Christian is to be a disciple. It is to study and learn the teachings of Jesus, and then work towards putting those teachings into practice.

Therefore, to be a Christian means that we will change and grow. There is a difference between who we are today and who will become because of Christ. We are changed and transformed by the power and grace of God.

But a question is: How does God do that? How does he change and transform us?

And the answer is that Jesus gave himself for us. He gave us his mystical body – his flesh and blood.

Jesus says in John 6:

⁴⁸I am the bread of life…. ⁵⁴Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; ⁵⁵for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. ⁵⁶Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. ⁵⁷Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. ⁵⁸This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

From this passage we learn three things that happen when we take Christ’s Mystical Body:

1. We have eternal life and will be raised on the last day.
2. Whenever you share in the Lord’s Supper, you live because of Christ.
3. Jesus abides in us. We remain in Jesus, and he remains in us. Jesus said, “By eating my flesh and drinking my blood you enter into me and I into you.” Through the bread and juice a mystical connection with Christ is formed, and you are changed.

Our prayer: “Oh God, come to us, so that You may dwell in us and we may dwell in You. And be changed so as to live as Jesus did. Amen.”

The Word of God

I love the idea that the Bible is “God’s Word” because it is inherently spiritual in nature. Imagine for second, that God, this mysterious creator, spoke to you – his wisdom and holiness made manifest in something we can comprehend: sentences and language. It would be immediately transformative on us and our lives, and it would become more important than any other words that we have heard. A word from God should be awe-inspiring.

And yet, when people think about the Bible, rarely does it have the same awe-inspiring effect. We have critiqued and questioned, interpreted and explained every aspect of the Bible so much so that our impression of it is either left in shambles or devoid of its inherent spiritual and mysterious qualities. It has become a burden and a bother that is guilt-ridden and usually avoided.

I would like to encourage you to pick it up again and try as you can to forget the many questions and answers people have offered for its words. Forget what you have been told about it and just read it for what it is. Listen to the stories and poems, the commands and the paradoxes. Hear the message anew, and be transformed by the truth hidden in these words of God.

Pray for Phin

Phin is 11 months old. And 3 months ago he was diagnosed with leukemia. His father has been keeping everyone updated through his blog. Here is the latest:

The last six days have been a pocket of time separate from the scuttering of the world. Phin seems as robust and as happy as any 11-month-old baby boy should. I have, in ignorant hope declared that he is free of the disease, asserting that this has all been a monumental mistake.

Hope was crucified on Thursday last week. At the end of a good day of smooth procedures accompanied by high hopes of complete remission, we felt a fatal blade of betrayal pinch deep with the news of his relapse. It is funny how the very real threat of losing something dear to your heart warps every thought and deed, turning them into strange and unnatural rituals of adulation. The squeeze of Phin’s small, soft and pudgy hand around my finger while he sleeps draws a despairing sigh. The grin and glint in his eye as he catches us watching him as he scoots to some forbidden corner of the apartment or courtyard makes our heart swell and hurt. His garbled chattering while at play has the effect of an old sage’s words of comfort and advice. We are almost tempted to wake him when he is asleep, just to steal one more interaction.

On Friday, we picnicked down at Millennium Park. On Saturday, we ate pizza with our neighbors and Phin played with Brendon and the balloons Julia brought. On Sunday, Mother’s Day, we went to church. After, we had another picnic in a cozy little neighborhood park down on Warner Street. We live with the sense that we are spending precious moments with a dear friend who is soon to depart to that place from whence they came.

To get to transplant, Phin needs to go into complete remission after this round of chemotherapy. His chances of cure with a transplant are slimmer than communicated earlier on. We need every prayer, every supplication, to God, to that great mysterious being, to that energy in the universe that binds us all together, to that deep eternal void of the unknown. We need a miracle of restoration, for Phin’s health, for our naive faith in goodness. In this way alone, can hope be resurrected. We have lost every feeling of control.

It’s expensive being poor!

Via: OnlineSociologyDegree.net

Grammar and Identity

I learned recently that a fundamental shift in American thought occurred with the civil war. They started using incorrect grammar.

Before the Civil War, Americans would correctly say, “The United States are…, for example, divided.” After the war ”United States” became a singular noun, such as “The United States is unified.” American identity shifted to connect more to the nation than to the state, and so the grammar mistake became the norm.

Another interesting grammar rule in English is our use of capitalization. Generally, proper nouns are capitalized and common nouns are not. However, we have one blantant exception: “I”. Why do we capitalize this singular first-person pronoun regardless of its placement in the sentence? No other language does this, not even closely related languages, such as Dutch, German, or French. When did this happen? (Read a NY Times article here for the answer to this question.) What effects has this had on our society? And on our identity?

When we think of identity, the question that we usually think of is: “Who am I?” It is rarely “Who are we?” It is interesting also how we order our words. For example, we place a our personal name before our family names in contrast to most Asian cultures where the family name goes first. When we write our address we start with specifics and move to the city, state, and country. Chinese, for one, is opposite.

So, what’s the point. It is not that we should change our grammar. And it is not that collectivism is better or worse than individualism.

We are shaped by our histories, and the way we think even is shaped by our language. When you think of yourself and ask, “who are ‘we’?”, what is the primary group you are thinking of?