Christian community, conflict and the role of a "pastor"

Working in ministry isn't fun sometimes. It's potentially even less fun when we as people who are "professionals" have to deal with the conflicts between our "clientele." If one wanted to heighten the degree of difficulty in our developing hypothetical, one could place the "clientele" into a delicate demographic, say for instance: emerging, self-discovering, pomo college students. And then what's a "pastor" supposed to do?

The difficulty for that pastor might be complicated in times of crisis for several reasons. First, the difficulties of dealing with such a demographic are difficult enough. For one, the entire parochial system of pastor-lay relationships has to be re-evaluated as is. College students, and particularly those of a post-modern mindset, are offended by this dichotomy of "professional Christians" and everybody else. This is partially because many students who desire to remain faithful to their religious beliefs by a college age were raised in a congregation that really hammered the importance of faith into them. This generally aligns them on a more conservative scale. However, when they start to see the world, they must deal with the oh-so-stereotyped "liberal academia" of the university life. The conflict comes when they realize that they don't disagree with everything the "liberals" say, but what does this mean for their "conservative" faith? Students begin to feel betrayed by their pastors, as if their pastors were either liars or ignorant men (and yes, they are almost all men).

Perhaps most of these difficulties are related to the existential epistemology that most college students seem to live by: reality is defined by how it feels. Thankfully, most of these pomos have realized that good feelings are probably not the truest expressions of reality, as people sometimes just don't feel good. Instead, it is feeling at all, authentic emotion that determines reality. The more authentic a thing is, the more real it is in a cosmic sense.

A second and resultant problem is the problem of the church's current state of being. Unfortunately, institutions, "professional" pastors and the church just don't seem authentic anymore. Students don't trust these things because they don't "feel" right. The questions of how we who hope to genuinely connect with these students, or worse, maintain our own sense of identity while still maintaining faithfulness to the Church that Christ (inadvertently or not) established are questions that seem unanswerable. Systems of expectation from the church and disappointment from students who tend to be anti-institutional cause identity-crisis, confusion and a feeling of picking sides between the people who are meant to be served and loved by a pastor and the church that seems so often a corruption of what it ought to be. It seems to me, anyway, that these students have some good points about our churches.

And so what role would a pastor who stands in this great chasm play? For the students, she must be relevant and most importantly real. For the students' sake, she must not simply be a "professional." She must know them well, and love them well. At the same time, she must still be a guide. There may be times when the role of authority must be re-enforced for the safety of the community. This pastor must love authentically. Most importantly, this pastor must be human. The pastor must be free to make mistakes. Unfortunately, it often feels as if they are not allowed to do so. The role of pastor from both the church and the pomo student is one of the highest standard, which I think to an extent is good. However, it seems that the church often wants the pastor to be "good" so that the church will look better. The student wants anyone claiming the title of "pastor" to speak truthfully, unlike pastors they have heard before who disappointed them. Both sides seem to have unfair expectations of the person who hopes to serve both.

What doesn't seem like an entirely viable option from my perspective is a system of "boundaries" that simply dictate what a pastor should and should not do to avoid any difficulties or complications. I agree that we need to live in ways tht will maintain the safety of all involved, that is our call as Christians; to love one another. However, it's just over-simplifying things to boil it down to rules of conduct. If a pastor is to truly be a part of the Christian community, we need freedom, mutual love and respect, and most importantly communication. Conflict will necessarily be a part of this whole process because relationships always have conflict. Tension is what allows us to grow. But what we lack is the ability to communicate. We all seem far to concerned with our own emotions and interests to share our thoughts and feelings without taking offense at those who disagree. If we hope to reconcile the church and the post-modern generations, both parties must first learn to have a Christian conversation, dealing with our conflict and clinging for dear life to the things that define us as Christ-followers: compassion, grace, patience, selflessness, honesty and a devotion to each other, to the Church and to Jesus Christ.

Summer Time, a Series of Posts and Soteriological Epistemology

Hello my few and faithful friends,

It has been a long time since I've posted, and I feel I ought to apologize for the long lull in conversation. I fully intend to pick up my conversation on the ecclesial role of women with at least one more post, but I have some more pressing thoughts on my mind at the moment.

At one point in my recent life, as I had spent 4 years in a fairly intense undergrad program studied biblical hermeneutics, theology and the distant fringes of philosophy, I thought I was beginning to see the world through the rose-tinted lenses of my own "enlightenment." I thought I had an adequate working vocabulary on theological issues, and a base knowledge of philosophical terms. After all, my most recent philosophy professor sometimes taught from the full lotus position. It doesn't get more stereotypically philosophical than that!

But this summer has challenged my idea of one topic in particular: epistemology. Epistemology is technically the philosophical pursuit of the complex issue of knowledge. By its very nature, it is a very complicated branch of philosophical study, since it is metaphysical. The other clump that muddies the water of epistemology is that it is an intricate study of knowledge itself, and therefore how can you ever know that you're anywhere close? 

This issue is particularly mind-numbing to me in the area of theology, and specifically soteriology (the doctrines of salvation). What is the epistemology of salvation? How do we know the truth of Christ's gospel? These are not questions that I mean to ask in a potentially universalist or non-exclusive way. I'm not implying that because the knowledge of salvation is so broad that there are any other ways than Christ, but instead, how do we come to experience that knowledge? The question is really one centered on a couple of huge assumptions that developed in post-Enlightenment philosophy.

After the Rational Revolution known as the Enlightenment, reason was elevated onto the altar of god-hood. The basis of reality became the knowledge that was acquired through intellectual pursuits. As this emphasis on logic fully consumed itself in an individualistic focus, questions of life in community began to be asked. Thinkers such as John Locke, Immanuel Kant and even Rene Descartes all began to assume that if reason was foundational for each individual, then its conclusions could be imposed on all mankind. Therefore, there must be a logical standard of interpersonal relationships and ethics. If a truly "enlightened" individual could figure out the moral codes appropriate to such a person, than those could be determined on a corporate and legislative level.

And thus began the myth of a Christian nation. It was assumed that Christianity, the religion of the majority of the Enlightened, was the only language that was truly logical. After all, these Enlightenment thinkers themselves were all Christians, and they were bloody brilliant. Ethics and religion became common sense and could be imposed on national levels without compromising the freedom of religion.

At this point, modern philosopher, political commentator, theologian and ring-leader of the elsewhere described Don of the Hauerwasian Mafia, Stanley Hauerwas became a popular voice in the Academic Christendom (of Post-Christendom) of America. Hauerwas, following the lead of Alistair Mcintyre, claimed that such thinking had led to the "privatization" and therefore the utter degradation of distinctively Christian faith. The gospel of Christ lost its meaning when it became simply a logical code of ethics. This is partially because the gospel, for the most part, is not rational. It asks its followers to turn the other cheek, to forgive, to love and to serve others with the tiniest regard for oneself.

This very old debate leaves me wondering about soteriological epistemology. When we hear the gospel, how do we know that it represents the God who is Truth? Is it rational? Is it logical? Is it intuitive? 

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion in days (weeks, months, years) to come.

The Role of Women, Part II

This post is picking up my response to this article.

The next section of the author’s article raises the question of married women being ordained. Honestly, the argument he makes is muddled and confusing, so I will simply try to deal with the texts that he cites.

He begins with Ephesians 5, again quoting only a small portion of a greater argument. The over-arching theme of Ephesians is that the Gentile readers must stop living like the pagans and must begin to walk into a new and “more Jewish” kind of faith. The Gentiles, who were formerly considered as outsiders, we “brought near” and made insiders through Christ (ch. 2). Paul stands on their behalf to offer them acceptance into this new community of faith (ch. 3), but they must be diligent to preserve its unity (ch. 4). In their new lives, they must be sure to imitate God, to avoid their former ways and to practice submission in every respect. For Paul, this starts in the smallest unit, the family. In essence, Paul is demanding that this take place in every place in their lives, especially with those they spend the most time with. And Paul describes the family in the terms that all people of that culture would have been familiar with. But simply because Paul uses the normal family structure does not mean it is the only appropriate family structure. More than that, we ought to operate in our own family structures as they are in a way in which submission is lived out in every relationship. Too often this passage is quoted as a paradigm for familial normalcy, and neglected as instruction to submit to all people as a regular practice of Christian living.

The next example is from 1 Timothy 3. Again, one faces the difficulty of language and cultural understandings that were common to Paul, but are not authoritative simply on the basis of inference. The author of 1 Timothy describes a worthy leader as a “husband of one wife.” Rather than understanding that the elder ought to be someone faithful and responsible, the author of this article declares that it must necessarily be a man.

The problem with the article’s discussion of both of these passages is that it breezes by Paul’s actual instruction and dwells on the aspects of lesser importance. Rather than understanding the teaching to be driven at the heart of Christianity in a person’s humility and faithfulness, the gender is over-emphasized leaving the real meat of the letters undigested. The author takes the passages so literally that he actually misses the actual instruction!

The next section of the article covers the appropriate nature of women speaking in church gatherings. Here the article leaps clearly over the most obvious explanation, which it had discredited early on (for almost no good reason). In a society where women sat on a lower social rung of the social ladder and the unity of the church was to be diligently kept, of course women would not be allowed to instruct men. It would have defeated the purpose of maintaining unity. Men would have been offended and put off. What I wonder most is why the author of 1 Timothy, especially if it was Paul, needed to include this instruction. Timothy was very close to Paul, knowing his heart and his ministry. Shouldn’t Timothy have known the patriarchal structure that Paul always seemed to abide by? Or perhaps Paul’s message included in it some sort of teaching that seemed to make men and women equals, and thus the confusion about their role in the church emerged. It seems to me that the most obvious answer is that the author was dealing with a cultural issue that arose initially because of the equalizing power of the gospel.


In case you missed the first post, check it here:
The Role of Women, Part I

Missional?

Here's some thoughts I picked up from Andrew Jones:

I love the word missional but it still has some problems:
1. It is often dumbed down by people who confuse it with "evangelistic" or "mission-minded"
2. It has often been purged by some evangelicals of its connections to the global mission movement (read 'Ecumenical') and given a newer and more acceptable face.
3. It has sometimes been co-opted by aggressive and competitive white males to drive resources to the programs that beef up their own churches.
4. It suffers from a compulsive activism, as if God was a workaholic who constantly drives on his team and never rests from his labours.
5. It lacks an immediate connection with worship which might be the flip side and a necessary balance.

What do you think?

From Sally

Speak

A reflection on God's silence
By the Rev. Harold J. Recinos

I sit and hear
about the man
from Guatemala

shot last week
by cops who never
sob about wrong

doing. I see
bony children in
unlit apartments

neglected, abused,
desperately crying
in beaten mothers’

arms. I hear people
talk about martyrs, agony
without end, the death

of the world, the vain
cries everywhere, the
churches unable to see

and hear beyond their
sullen Sabbath. I
dwell on the silence

of God.

A Christianity Worth Believing, Pt. II

Well, here we are. A post titled part 2.

Pagitt's views on Scripture are not the only potentially controversial expressions in this book. His views on the nature and essence of man are, to put it lightly, not Reformed by any means. In fact, he so adamantly opposes the concept of total depravity with a beautifully tragic story about the local target of criticism on everyone favorite social microcosm: the school bus. The story of the one unfortunate girl picked to be continually ridiculed and permanently marked as "sucking." When thinking back on this story, Pagitt compares the traditional doctrine of total depravity to this mindset, fearing that far too often the church has held this same bully perspective. In an attempt to maintain an absolute need for God's grace, we have deemed the nature of man as utterly inferior or corrupted in some way that claims man is, in Reformed traditions, incapable of good. 

Pagitt makes it clear that man is obviously in need of some sort of redemption, but the essence of the message is that God still calls men and women to participate in God's Good Dreams for the world. When Adam and Eve fell in the biblical narrative, they faced consequences, but they were still expected to maintain their roles of stewardship and co-regency over the created order. God is not "up and away," but "down and in," interested in humanity. God is passionately concerned for people to restore them to their original intent and relationship.

The truth is, in Pagitt's perspective, that God does not view people as if they suddenly went from "good" to total suckage. As the fruit fell off the branches of the forbidden tree, mankind's entire nature and worth did not fall with it. Perhaps it put us in a unique position in need of forgiveness, but it did not ruin the Image that God ingrained into us.

What do you think? What affects did the fall of Adam and Eve have on the essence of human nature? What are the lasting affects of Original Sin? Are its affects or its very rebellious tendency necessarily transmitted through procreation or as some sort of inheritance? What condition are we in, and what are the implications for our doctrines of evangelism or missiology, soteriology and orthodoxy?