God's Politics and America's Church (UPDATED)

In a recent guest posting on Ben Myers' blog, Douglas Harink discusses God's Politics by Jim Wallis. In a nut shell, Harink's critique is that Wallis' perspective (along with the religious right's perspective) views the church as merely an instrument for America's betterment. In Harink's words,

"Unless Christian discourse about God, faith and the church is allowed in the first place to be absolutely free of its usefulness for Americanism, it will always be idolatrous."

I have not read Wallis and as such I can't responsibly comment on his views, but Harink's article is a healthy challenge to my politics. When I do my armchair political thinking, I find myself drawn to do it in the framework which seeks the strength and continuance of America as the end goal. This is not the result of a conscious decision to hold my country above my God and my church, but rather a desire to effectively engage with my surrounding society. Almost all discussion in American Politics, whether it is from the left or the right, works from the assumption that the end goal is the preservation and prosperity of America. It is not counter-intuitive to then try to make my political arguments lead to that same nationally shared goal if I want to be a part of the game. Is Harink correct in saying that the church and Christians (both Dobsonites and Willisites) in America should abandon the framework of the national discussion at the risk of losing traction in the national conversation?

I think so. The church's interest is in the proclamation of the gospel and the regeneration of the world. That calling must come before the advancement of America. When we partake in placing the betterment of America as our political goal, we place a political entity's well-being above God's commands and intentions for his people. It may be tantamount to claiming Kaisar Kurios (Caesar is Lord) instead if Xristos Kurios (Christ is Lord).

Taking Harink's position certainly runs the risk of having less influence on the direction of America as a nation-state, but the responsibility of the church is not to safeguard the state. It is to proliferate the gospel. The loss of strength for the Christian voice in the political dialogue is not a major loss because political traction only gives you a greater ability to force your agenda on others and the gospel is an agenda that cannot be forced on anyone.

Whether the state parishes or flourishes should be of little consequence to the church and the Christian. Whether the world sees the glory and love of God or not is of greatest consequence to the church and the Christian.

What are your thoughts?

Sola? Scriptura

Sola Scriptura, Latin for ‘scripture alone,’ was the battle cry of the reformation and is still the line in the sand between protestants and the Roman Catholic Church. What is Sola Scriptura though? In this post I want get my hands around the idea of Sola Scriptura and offer up some thoughts on how to make more sense of this protestant doctrine.

Many Catholic apologists argue that Sola Scriptura is an untenable doctrine because it cannot stand against the very standard of truth it claims. The argument starts with a simple observation of the Bible; scripture does not say that scripture is the only authority on matters of faith. The scriptures certainly display a high value of scripture and claim it as authoritative (see II Timothy 3:16 and the numerous authoritative uses of the Old Testament in the New Testament), but you cannot find a verse that explicitly states that scripture is the only religious authority. In fact, you can find a couple other sources of great authority, those being teachings handed down, we can call this tradition, (see Romans 16:7 and II Thessalonians 3:6), and councils (see Acts 15).

How can a protestant hold on to Sola Scriptura in light of the fact that the Bible does not explicitly teach Sola Scriptura? My attempt at a solution is three-fold.

1) Take down the straw-man

While Sola Scriptura literally translates to ‘scripture alone,’ the doctrine doesn’t really mean ‘scripture alone’ in a literal sense. The protestant leaders of the reformation did not mean to say that scripture is the only authority on religious matters and all else must be shut-out. A better way to understand Sola Scriptura is that scripture is the final or ultimate authority. Councils and tradition are still authoritative, but they are subject to the authority of scripture. If a tradition or decision of a church council is in clear contradiction with scripture, than scripture should be accepted above it.


2) Argument from Scripture

I think this true sense of Sola Scriptura as defined above is evidenced in the Bible. The author of Acts says this about the Bereans.

“Now the Bereans were of more noble character than the Thessalonians, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.” – Acts 17:11

Paul had apostolic authority in a sense and a blessing of the council of leaders in Jerusalem, but what mattered was whether or not his teachings jived with scripture. Even his apostolic status did not put him above scripture. Aside from this, we can also note all of the occasions in the New Testament in which the Old Testament was used to support a position. I will admit that these biblical examples do not explicitly state that scripture is the final authority, but it seems to me that they do clearly imply it. At the very least, it is clear that scripture does not contradict the idea of scripture being the final authority. That fact allows us to look other places to see if scripture is indeed the final authority.


3) Argument from Tradition and Council

What most convinces me is that the authority of scripture rests in the authority of tradition and the decisions of councils. The protestant cannot fully despise tradition because scripture is really nothing more than tradition. However, unlike other tradition that can be severely warped by human intervention, the scriptures are codified tradition from the earliest Christians. We value scripture for the very reason that it is trustworthy tradition, in fact since it is the most trustworthy tradition, we ought to hold it up above all other tradition.

I also mentioned that scripture draws authority from councils. As was popularized in Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code, the New Testament was approved by church councils. Now this approval process was not the kind of unilateral power move that Brown made it out to be, but rather it was a bunch of Christian leaders coming together and saying, ‘these are the books which we all agree are sacred and authoritative.’ Many of the Christian communities had been using the same documents as scripture before the council, but the council worked out a few discrepancies and then stamped it with council authority.

So, the Bible is our final authority (though not our only authority) because it contains the most trustworthy tradition and the councils of church leaders approved it as authoritative literature, essentially lifting it above the councils themselves. Protestants must understand Sola Scriptura in order to see the authority that affects their faith, while Catholics must understand Sola Scriptura in order to appreciate the perspective of their protestant brethren.

N.T. Wright and Stephen Colbert?

Check out N.T. Wright on the Colbert Report.



A Little funny and a little informative.

If you aren't familiar with N.T. (Tom) Wright, he is a bishop in the Anglican Church and a widely respected New Testament scholar. He is a part of the realm of scholars called the 'New Perspective on Paul.' A group hailed by some as making great strides at getting back to what Paul really meant and critiqued by others for de-emphasizing some common emphases of protestant theology. For more information you can check out the always mostly reliable wikipedia or to get at some of Wright's own words check out the ntwrightpage.

The Dark Night of My Soul

I recently read an excerpt from Simon Chan’s Spiritual Theology: A Systematic Study of the Christian Liferegarding what can be called the post-honeymoon phase of spiritual journeys. For many people who have an adult conversion experience, and probably many who come to faith in youth - I just cannot speak to that experience, they find the initial years in their young relationship with God vibrant, exciting, and emotionally charged. Often times that rich experience fades to a dry, emotionless and dull one. This is what John of the Cross called the dark night of the soul (I haven’t read his book by that title yet, but it has been bumped to the top of my list).

According to Chan and some old school Christians whom he cites, this dark night of the soul can be a long and arduous experience. A common response to this period is to set aside the practice of prayer and live the rest of life in this spiritual comatose. I have to admit that I have begun to walk down that path, hanging up any real notion of spiritual discipline because, to be frank, it isn’t as enjoyable.

A popular belief in many Christian circles today is that if we aren’t enjoying our time with God, then we are doing something wrong. That may be true in some limited instances, but if our spiritual ancestors like John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila are correct then unenjoyable spiritual discipline is a crucible in many believers lives that must be met with grit and dedication, not self-loathing and shame. If we believe in the perspective that says that a healthy relationship with God must be marked with happy and emblazoned emotions, I think we might be doomed for failure when we hit the dark night and find that no amount of effort can squelch our dissatisfaction or even outright displeasure in prayer. However, if we approach this displeasure as an acceptable fact of life, and not a symptom of a disingenuous faith, then we can meet it with greater perseverance and drive.

Chan and John of the Cross do not paint a dreary picture in which no end is in sight for the dark night of the soul, but the end may be a long ways off and the other side may still not look like the emotionally charged puppy love of the believers first years. According to them, the other side is often still a sober, but more mature and even richer relationship with God than the honeymoon. We must spend the time in between with a faithful and disciplined life of prayer, despite any displeasure, to find that matured faith.

A Spirit of Unity

I thought it would be appropriate for the inaugural post of a blog titled ‘EkklesiaBeautiful’ to be a discussion of ecclesiology (theology of Christian community). My main interest in this post is ‘the church’ in the universal sense. What is it? Maybe more precisely, what unifies it? In the Roman Catholic tradition, the church is not only a mystical unification, but is also an institutional one. In other words, if you are not in the Roman Catholic organization, then you are outside of the church in an important way (please correct me if this no longer true in the post-Vatican II church). This view is very attractive to me because it most obviously fulfills Jesus’ prayer in John 17:20-23, that those who believe in him will be in unity.

However, the New Testament does not display a rigid institutionalization in the early church, so it makes it hard for me to believe Jesus was talking about an institutional unity. The first local Christians were organized into local churches that were united through teachings of the Gospel. It appears that figures like Paul were not given authority by a defined command and control structure, but by their reputation. This seems to me more of a de facto authority than a de jure one. (If you see otherwise please speak up!).

This lack of institutionalization in the New Testament does not mean that institutionalized ecclesiology is wrong, just that it is not necessary. If we find a system that facilitates a greater practical outworking of the church, given the corruption of people and a cultural distrust of ‘the establishment’, than we are free to choose that system.

What makes more sense to me than institutional unity is a spirit of unity. This means that all local churches do not have to share one governance structure or agree on a strict doctrine (there is some necessity for doctrinal unity, but I believe we can take a relatively loose understanding). What it means is that all Christians not only respect, but selflessly love and accept each other. The Baptist has to love the Catholic, the Lutheran must love the Pentecostal, the Methodist must love the Eastern Orthodox. That love cannot be begrudging, but must embrace the other as a sister or brother.

I guess I am calling for an active reconciliation. This is not an organizational reunification, but an acknowledgement that all who believe in Jesus as the Christ are brothers and sisters. It would require both a grassroots movement (mostly in the form of accepting attitudes) as well as some changes at the top levels. One such top level change, which is probably the biggest barrier, would be an agreement to have communion/Eucharist open to all who confess Jesus as Lord.

This of course leads back to the issue of doctrinal unity. Is simply saying that any who believe Jesus as the Christ and Lord are to be embraced in the communion of saints? I sense that this may be too loose a doctrinal definition, but I am not sure I want to get any stricter. If you have any thoughts please leave a comment and weigh in on the discussion.