Monthly Archives for June 2006

Church History – the truth behind the Nicene Creed

I’ve recently been talking about theology and Church history, saying that they are good things to know, even though a faith that is grounded on a belief system rather than on God can be somewhat shaken.

In weeks past I’ve also mentioned that a failure in most modern, Evangelical churches is the lack of any sort of corporate confession; I am, of course, speaking of confessing a creed, or belief, rather than confession of sins (as in, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord…”). Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, Lutherans, Anglicans, and a few others all include, at some point in their worship, a recital of one of the generally accepted creeds, usually the “Apostles” or the Nicene.

I like the creeds. However, we should also understand their historical context; otherwise, they become simply historical artifacts.

The Nicene Creed, for example, was developed at the Council of Nicea, held in A.D. 325. As many know, the main issue was whether Jesus was of the same substance as the Father, or not. Athanasius, our hero, believed that Jesus was of a timeless generation (eternal) and of the same substance as the Father. Arius and his followers were the bad guys, believing Jesus to have been created by the Father before the beginning of time, and so “the same but different” than the Father.

What many don’t know is that neither of these positions held the majority view, and that Athanasius couldn’t have won a simple majority vote, without help. Most of the church elders were someplace in the middle, believing that Jesus had to be different than the Father. This is perfectly understandable, considering they didn’t have hundreds of years of trinitarian theology to fall back on, and were obviously concerned about not falling into a polytheist heresy. The majority of leaders wanted the Nicene Creed to say that the Son was of a similar nature to the Father (close, but no cigar).

So, how was the decision made? By unanimous vote? By prophetic proclamation?

No. The decision was made by none other than Constantine, who was apparently tired of the arguing. Constantine, that conqueror who made Christianity his state religion, influenced the vote. (This information, by the way, didn’t come from Dan Brown, but from reliable Christian sources.) Constantine, of course, was the one who organized the Council in the first place, to try to unify the Church. (His “one God, one Lord, one faith, one church, one empire, one emperor” slogan was hard to use while the Church argued over major doctrines.)

As you might guess, the debate over the nature of Jesus continued for years, notwithstanding the Council of 325. Political clout is no match for theology. A 2nd council was held in 381, where the Creed was “upgraded” a bit, and the closing lines added. There is still some dispute over the language concerning the Holy Spirit, whether it proceeds from just the Father (as the Eastern churches hold), or from both the Father and the Son. But, otherwise, the Nicene Creed is now the standard, universal creed of the Church.

It’s a good creed – and it saddens me that we don’t expect people to learn it anymore. Without this, and the simpler Apostles’ Creed, I can only guess how fractured the Church would really be… or would it? In spite of the differences of theology, interpretation and so on, the gates of Hell are not prevailing against the Church. After all, God promised.

The beauty of studying Church history is not that you dig up all of the church’s skeletons, but that we can learn the context for our current faith, as well as see how God has indeed revealed Himself through the ages.

The New, Improved Small Voices

Check out the new, improved SmallVoices site, smallvoices.net. If you don’t know SmallVoices, it is my site, and the site upon which this blog is built. It’s worth checking out, trust me. I keep promising new stuff, and now that I’ve got this spiffy new design, I may be more motivated to update it.

So, check it out.

I should mention the redesign was done by Elliot Swan. Check out his site (or one of them, anyway…) at elliotswan.com. He’s one of the great new designers on the web, and is worth hiring for both graphic & web design & coding. Trust me. Please (he needs money for college).

Thanks for your support.

The Words are Dying…

Hope is a high school sophomore, with something very important to say to us about chalk dust, and the misuse of words. Check it out for yourself:
Hope is Emo: The Words are Dying.

It’s my reality (and I’ll believe what I want to)

I have a hunch that many, many types of Christians (you can’t really categorize Christians by church affiliation any longer) have a worldview/belief system that has a rather tenuous hold on reality. That is, their particular belief system is not based on sound Biblical interpretation, even a nominal understanding of sound theology, or any consideration for the generally held positions of the church (including the historical church). I’ll even add “critical thinking” to that list.

To put it yet another way, many Christian “streams” have developed or adopted their particular dogma/worldview simply because it’s what they want to believe, with little consideration of truth. Many people will blame this phenomena on postmodernism, with it’s rejection of metanarrative, etc. However, the majority of people I am referring to would totally reject the label postmodern. In fact, it may be these people in particular that postmoderns are rebelling against, for they all claim to have a singular grasp on truth.

A prime example is the “left behind” crowd, those for whom the pre-trib rapture (or any rapture, for that matter) is paramount. Another such group is the “faith” movement and its subsidiaries. These people in particular have created a Matrix-like virtual world where reality is, in effect, immaterial.

These cultures create their own self-protection methods, similar to those used by individuals who have chosen to ignore reality. You might know people like this, who completely live within their own reality:

  • They have an excuse for everything that goes wrong,
  • They’re so busy talking that they effectively block all contrary information from coming in,
  • There seems to be a belief that if something is said loud enough, or often enough, it is true.

It’s really quite amazing, and frustrating for those outside of the “game.” But, unless you’re deep inside the game, you’ll recognize these traits. For example (just in case you need any), take those of the “faith” persuasion:

  • You didn’t get healed, it’s due to your lack of faith (or improper methods, or unconfessed sin, or whatever); it’s never that perhaps the theology has a few holes.
  • There’s only preaching, never dialog; to question is to speak “doubt.”
  • Preaching is continuously emphasizing your need to believe & act on your “faith”: “Just send this ministry $1,000 and you’ll see that God will repay you 100 times.”

The same techniques are used throughout the church in varying degrees, in books, radio, “Christian” TV, in Bible studies and sermons, and not just from “faith” people. I hear it all over the place, crazy talk from Christians making excuses for their lives and spouting more crazy talk to support the weird things they do. The “no faith” people (the “it’s all God’s will”) people do the same thing, as do the “prophetic” people, the “purpose-driven” people and the creationist people. It’s not creationism or prophecy or faith is wrong – it’s the kooky protectionist systems that grow around these things.

Here’s the deal in a nutshell, from Paul (the part of the “love chapter” that we normally ignore):

For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

Let’s stop talking like children, who talk crazy, foolish talk. Let’s get real. (It’s not really that bad.)

Theology, shmeology

Many Christians tend to avoid anything to do with theology like it was a plague. They acquaint theology with seminary, and seminary with “liberal” thinking and a watered-down faith. To some, theology is the enemy of faith – it comes to question, to challenge, to raise issues that should simply be accepted, because their pastor or someone like Benny Hinn said so. Like science, theology is seen as a mental activity, as opposed to one of the spirit. Things of the spirit are sacred, and other things – mental things – are profane. Bible study is of God, but when it crosses the line into theology, well…

I, on the other hand, love theology. I find theology exciting. For that matter, I enjoy science, too, but that’s a subject for another post. I really wish now that I had taken some seminary classes, or at least spent a little more time reading real theology, rather than most of the stuff found in Christian bookstores (although, some of that is also good). However, a word to the wise (or, rather, to the foolish): Theology can, indeed, challenge, threaten, completely irritate and possibly destroy your faith. That is, if your faith is in something other than God.

What I really wish is that I had a better grasp of theological history; that is, the way the Church’s thinking about God has evolved (oh, no, there’s that science word again) over the years. For it has, indeed, evolved. From the days of Acts to the present, the Church’s understanding of God has taken a number of turns; some good, some not so good. But through it all, I believe God continues to reveal Himself to those who seek him (and to a few who don’t), and the gates of Hell – and even theology – have not prevailed against the Church.

Today, if people know anything about theology at all, they may know a few names like Augustine, Luther & Calvin – and maybe a few of the early Church Fathers, such as Tertullian, Polycarp & Origen. Most, however, don’t have a clue as to what they believed. And, many would be horrified to find out. The truth is, many of those who were foundational in developing the early faith and belief system of the church had some rather odd beliefs that today would get them kicked out of some of our major denominations.

The history of the theology of the Church is shocking to our modern sensibilities, highly structured belief systems, and to our faith in those systems. But, it doesn’t do our faith any good to avoid reality.

As Abram learned about God by listening and obeying, the Church continued to grow in its knowledge of God as freshly revealed through Jesus and the Spirit, through many hundreds of years of study, thought, debate, missteps and successes. In spite of the apparent errors that permeated the Church from time to time, here we are.

Are we done learning? Heaven forbid. We may have advanced, or we may have rabbit-trailed, but God will continue to lead His Church and reveal Himself to her. It’s our turn, you see. To turn our back on theology is to tell God, “I know you well enough already.”

There’s another aspect of theology that I think scares people, and that is simply that it might challenge our own pet belief systems, or own personal virtual realities. But, that’s a topic for another post.

Post-Enlightenment Faith

It’s not that hard to figure it out
Where there’s no question, there’s no doubt

Glen Phillips – There Comes a Time

Musehead has an interesting post today on poetic faith (not that I want you to stop reading mine and run over there…), in which he proposes that faith is in reality a struggle against unbelief, or a “suspension of disbelief,” a phrase coined by Coleridge. I can’t be quite as literary as Musehead, but hopefully I can contribute something to the conversation that is likewise profound.

What faith is, is a topic which has come up many times over the years, often in discussions with my children, who have all struggled with this issue. The real issue is never actually with faith itself, but rather, with our definitions of faith. This, by the way, is sure to frustrate many in the “faith community” who are routinely encouraged to completely suspend all mental activity in order to truly “believe,” and to consequently send in their $1,000 contribution. Suspension of reason, however, is not faith, it’s just voluntary insanity.

One of the lessons of the Tower of Babel is that language is all about definitions. Without having a common understanding of the strange sounds and symbols we refer to as words, communication is non-existent. This is what makes the job of translating not only the words, but the concepts, of the Bible such a perilous endeavor. It’s not a job for the faint-hearted. What many of us fail to realize is that the English language is not static; it evolves at a fairly rapid rate, more so today with universal access to electronic forms of communication. As a result, the words used a few years ago may not convey the proper meaning today. (Just try reading Shakespeare.)

Concepts also undergo this process of evolution as philosophers continue to philosophize, scientists continue to scientificate, and writers continue to write. One of the big changes, philosophically, has been with the concept of belief, especially since the period known as the Enlightenment (which is at the very least, a presumptuous name). What does it mean to really believe? Do we have to have a valid Boolean syllogism? A “proven” scientific theory? Historical proof? DNA testing?

Our Modern concepts of truth, belief, and faith have not done us any spiritual or intellectual favors. We tend to understand that true faith or belief means “beyond the shadow of a doubt.” That’s ridiculous, and probably impossible.

This isn’t to say that faith is unreasonable. The concept of “reason” has likewise suffered over time. Faith is entirely reasonable. I think the most profound statement of faith in the Bible is Peter’s response to Jesus, “Where else would I go?” This, to me, evidences not a rock-solid, without-any-doubt belief, but a carefully reasoned weighing of the available options. I may not understand, but I don’t think I have any other options.

Faith does not exist in the absence of doubt; faith is always a choice between belief and unbelief. To sit on a chair, we choose to believe (not unreasonably, based on our knowledge and experience) that the chair will support our weight. Some choices are more “iffy” – Noah, for example, probably had to suspend a much more attractive disbelief.

To suspend disbelief – not to ignore it – is the act of faith.

Sweet surrender, oh my lord
I never thought I’d see
Not surprising, still I find some shaking
And cry more, then laughing, softly
There comes a time in your life
Pull on your coat, go outside.

On What’s Important

An interesting question, “what’s important?” So many things claim import in our lives: career, money, power, education, status, marriage, family, church – and they all have a claim on first place. But, to focus on one requires that the others are set aside, or at least relegated to some lower place.

It can drive you crazy. It can make you despondent. It – the “cares of the world” – can choke the life right out of you.

What really is important? We now live in the 21st Century, a concept that I haven’t fully grasped yet. We’re 22 years past 1984, we’ve survived 2001, we’re now well on our way into a Brave New World. Life has changed from the simple life that once existed: there are new demands – high speed, even instant, demands. There are gold-plated demands, high-tech demands, and demands that have raised the bar higher than you can possibly reach. Family farms are all but obsolete, craftsmen can no longer compete, and if you can’t make the cut, you’re out in the street. (That kind of rhymes…)

Wow, I’m stressed just writing this.

But, what’s really important? Is it the pursuit of happiness? Is it honor? Success? Fulfilling your destiny? Or, perhaps what is most important is simply whatever is needed at the moment. That’s a nice, pithy saying – but, how does this really help?

To help sort out those things that certainly do not require any worry, I go by the 10 Year Rule. I simply ask myself, “will this matter 10 years from now?” If not, then it’s clearly not worth stressing over. It works much of the time.

Jesus thought a bit further ahead, and recommended the Eternal Significance Rule. Does what you are doing have eternal significance? Are you laying up treasures in Heaven, or are you spending your time concerned with wood, hay & stubble, those items that will not survive the fire test?

Jesus, of course, lived in a much simpler time, before cell phones, WMDs and mortgages, car payments and cable TV bills. What was there really to worry about? It must have been easier to “not be anxious about tomorrow,” and “consider the lilies of the field” would actually have held meaning. What did these people spend their time doing? Most people didn’t even have books to read! (And, if they did, they probably weren’t novels.)

What’s really important? Do society and technology really change anything? Does your Palm Pilot tell you what’s important, or does it just provide a list of “the cares of this world” that choke the life out of you? I’ve said before that one of the great things about America is that we get to plant our own weeds; and, it seems that we often spend more time planting weeds than wheat.

Have you ever stopped and thought that even with such a simple life, Jesus still felt it important to talk about anxiety and priorities? Perhaps the issue is not what, or even how many things vie for our attention, but our ability to remain “centered” on what is important.

What’s really important? Do we even remember?

A Question of Calling

If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.
- Martin Luther King, Jr.

This quote appeared today on one of those “Quote of the Day” things, that seem designed so that a relative non-thinker can pretend to have deep thoughts once a day. It’s just slightly more meaningful than the fortune cookie fortune I read this weekend (It said, “an important conversation about you is happening today” – like that wouldn’t apply every day?).

It’s second goal would seem to be to prove that seemingly great thinkers often said really stupid things.

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper…” is quite a phrase; it’s packed with all kinds of Jungian implications and underlying theological assumptions. I’ll ignore the Jungian aspect (although I am curious as to how a Jungian would analyze King’s speech title, “I have a dream”); the theological assumptions are more than enough for one little post.

The question of “calling” is worth considering. Can someone actually believe that they were called, compelled, destined, or predestined, to be a street sweeper? Or, to look at it from another angle, can you accept that someone is called or destined to greatness? It really is the same question. If you believe that some are “called” to be greater than you are, then logically, the assumption would have to be that some were called to be lower than you. Is that what you believe?

It makes you think, doesn’t it? Is the American Dream truth, or is it a giant lie? Can anyone grow up to be President (as long as you were born here)? Or, is there in fact a cosmic caste system, where all of us deal with “glass ceilings?” Could the dangling carrot of success just be a guarantee of frustration and defeat?

I have known people who have believed (by evidence of their lives) that they were “called” to a low station. Bettering themselves was, in their eyes, a waste of time. I have known others who have accepted that their destiny was to greatness, and by default, also accepted that others by necessity were called to be “lesser.”

There are Biblical implications that some are called to be greater than others. Or, are there? Perhaps “free will” does, in fact, come into play? Is “calling” a participatory thing? Are some pots destined for the trash heap because that was the potter’s intent at the wheel, or was it because they cracked? Do some get more talents because they were destined for greatness, or because they were willing to invest them?

But, here’s the real question: what is the real definition of greatness? Do those with the most talents, with the apparent guarantee of a great destiny, get the “high place” at the table?

Apparently not. Perhaps it is those who make the most of what they have, not that they accept street sweeping as their calling, but who make the most of that opportunity, who get asked to move up to a higher seat. “Blessed are those who are poor in spirit …” Do we know, exactly, what Jesus meant here? Many take this to mean it is actually good to be poor in spirit. I think not.

The Kingdom of God, the “Upside-down Kingdom,” comes to bring greatness – the riches and advantages of a Kingdom inheritance – to those who may appear (to us) to have a lowly calling. Does that mean being resigned to a life of the mundane? Not at all. We are, after all, encouraged to “invest” what we have been given.

Our calling, along with whatever else it may mean, is to have life, and to have that life abundantly. If, along the way, we are called to sweep the streets, certainly we should do it well, but not because that is our calling, our destiny. We do it as an investment – because we are called to the Kindgom. The truly great are those who indeed believe that they are destined for greatness, and that there is room for all to be great.

To give up the “high place,” to unselfishly assist others up the “ladder” before you – that is a life of greatness, and to these will indeed be given more.

That is our calling.

Critical Analysis 101

I gave into temptation and scanned today’s headlines, only to see this API piece on MSNBC, Ancient scroll may yield religious secrets. “Experts” (a more specific version of they), are working on a high-tech digital analysis of the Derveni papyrus, a mid-4th century BC scroll, believed to be Europe’s oldest surviving book. It was, as are most API articles, poorly researched and written. However, it proves excellent material for a post on critical analysis.

The papyrus in question is described as “a philosophical treatise on ancient religion,” and focuses on Orpheus, a mythical master musician, who is blamed for many things, including inspiring various mystical cults, including one who apparently believed in one creator god.

According to the API, some archeologists believe this “may hold a key to understanding early monotheistic beliefs,” as they believe that this cult inspired or influenced “later” religions like Judaism, Islam & Christianity.

Greek philosophy expert Apostolos Pierris is quoted as saying, “In a way, it was a precursor of Christianity; Orphism believed that man’s salvation depended on his knowledge of the truth.” Archaeologist Polyxeni Veleni said that it “will help show the influence of Orphism on later monotheistic religions.”

Now, if you’re like most people, you will immediately be impressed by these statements, especially since “experts” and “archeologists” say they’re true. Anyone who’s read popular fiction knows that archeologists are incredibly sound logicians. And, no doubt thousands of Evangelicals are now worried about what this could mean to their faith, and Dan Brown is planning a new novel.

So, here’s a quick “Intro to Critical Thinking” lesson to help interpret this ground-breaking bit of journalism:

These people – experts, archeologists & journalists alike – are making one of the most obvious and basic errors in logic imaginable. They should, if there is any justice in the world, be held up for public ridicule for making such utterly stupic statements.

The logical fallacy is known as cum hoc ergo propter hoc or more simply, “false cause,” and is simply this: you cannot assume, just because two things appear related, that one causes the other. For that matter, you can’t even claim that there is a common cause. The fact that one writing predates another doesn’t mean anything (just ask Dan Brown).

Here’s an alternative theory: Presuming that Genesis presents a fairly accurate historical record (and archeology has confirmed or at least supports many of the Biblical stories), the story of the One God was not unique to Abraham and his followers. Others at the Tower of Babel left with the same history. Some lost it, but occasionally – as there are creator and flood stories in many cultures – it remained, to some extent. I tend to buy that one, being the presuppositionalist thinker that I am.

One can also bring up what is known as the ontological argument, which says essentially that man could not concieve of a being greater than himself; therefore, any concept of a creator-god must be based on truth. Or, you could believe Paul in Romans 1, where he says that “what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them.”

I buy that one, too.