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| [MC500] (FINAL) Book Report #6: Notes/Reflections on Vinoth Ramachandra's Subverting Global Myths: Theology and the Public Issues Shaping our World
1. Myths of Terrorism
“Language suffers from the general moral and intellectual decay of society. But it also contributes to the latter. Slogans, clichés and well-worn idioms hinder clarity of thought. Rescuing political language from ‘euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness’ is not a matter of sentimental archaism, like those who prefer the King James Bible to modern English translations. It is rather the first step in helping people grasp important political ideas. Language becomes ‘ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts’” (34).
Ramachandra continues to decry the phrases perpetuated by western media – such as “axis of evil,” “ridding the world of evil,” and “war on terror” – all of which he regards as clichéd and rather meaningless neologisms. Certainly he is right in his Orwellian critique of what goes on in the media. Under the illusion of knowledge gleaned from information sound-bites, people throw about these terms without thinking critically about the agendas and worldviews beneath them. A query I would raise, though, concerns what standards of critical intelligence and linguistic facility Ramachandra realistically expects the public to be able to live up to. While it is of course the very task of education to raise these standards, the sheer fact is that independent of literacy, we are fundamentally emotive creatures, making choices and forming thoughts based on our intuition and feelings. Rather than criticizing the poor use of language as revealing or exacerbating the “moral and intellectual decay of society,” may we not see it as primarily symptomatic of the reality that the simple-minded and gullible majority of any given population will be doomed to be considered “foolish” by Ramachandra’s standards? Analogy: some people are unhealthy because they are too lazy to exercise, while others are simply born with poor constitutions. The noetic effects of sin, then, comprise the lazy use of critical/linguistic faculties as much as they extend to the fundamental lack of facility.
2. Myths of Religious Violence
“The fourth-century ‘conversion’ of the Roman emperor Constantine altered the relationship to violence of large sections of the Western church, hitherto a frequently persecuted and oppressed social movement. Christianity changed its self-understanding once it became a state-religion. The church became more and more institutionalized and was eventually identified territorially (Christendom). The persecution that was directed against it was now redirected against its pagan neighbors and their environment. That the church has so often betrayed the basic evangelical truth that the reign of God is spread through self-giving, suffering love, and allowed itself to be seduced by geopolitical ambitions, is perhaps the chief cause of its loss of credibility in our (post)modern world” (82).
Contra the popular hate-speech against “organized religion,” institutionalization is not a bad thing in itself. If even we need grammar for language, if we need roads for traffic, surely some sort of structure is needed to organize large bodies of people? The problem stems, then, from the inherent desire within the fallen heart to dominate, control. Simone Weil has a vivid analogy for the savagery of human nature: when a hen is injured and about to die, rather than aiding or comforting it, the other hens will rush to peck it to death. Indeed, as Ramachandra puts it, Christianity changed its “self-understanding” when it rose to become the state religion; there is a particular Chinese word I’m thinking of that would perhaps be more suitable: 变质, a fundamental alteration in essence, a mutation took place when a religion centered on a crucified Messiah became itself identified with the very powers responsible for the crucifixion, akin to how a slave, after suffering at the hands of the slavedriver, is promoted to become a taskmaster himself and begins torturing other slaves. If, as the puritans of saying, “the way down is the way up,” then conversely we might say that in the case of the Christian spirit the way up is in fact the way down.
3. Myths of Human Rights
“It is an important aspect of Christian mission to narrate this unique vision of humanness in the teeth of all the other definitions of humanness that abound in the mass media, the academy, and the business world. Human beings are to be treated as having an inherent value that is neither given by the state nor can it be taken away by other human beings; it can only be recognized. They are not useful commodities whose value depends on what they can command in the marketplace. Human beings are entitled to be treated with equal respect because they are of equal worth. In G. K. Chesterton’s vivid image: people are equal in the same way pennies are equal. Some are bright, others are dull; some are worn smooth, others are sharp and fresh. But all are equal in value for each penny bears the image of the sovereign, each person bears the image of the King of kings.
Duncan Forrester argues that ‘that is the bottom line, the essential affirmation if we are to have an adequate justification and motive for generous and respectful treatment of people with severe disabilities, of the senile, and of the unemployable. But it is difficult to see how this core affirmation can be justified without theological reference.’ This is because we do not derive our belief in human equality from either observation or introspection. ‘The ideal of equality,’ notes Forrester, ‘haunts any culture that has been shaped or influenced by Christianity’” (104).
The enemy, Jesus says, comes to kills, steal, and destroy. And if our gospel is veiled, paraphrasing Paul, it is veiled to those whose eyes have been blinded by the god of this world, such that they are unable to see the glory of God shining in every human person. What myths have we been hoodwinked by, which are maiming/impairing us from recognizing the worth of everyone? From our own vantage points, who do we regard as “the least of these,” who is the “other”? The media says, you are more human if you are beautiful, slim, sexy, cool; the ugly, the fat, the plain, these are subhuman. The business world says, with success, power and influence you shall be more human; but you are less than human if you are a failure, powerless, forgotten. And the academic world - the one I am most familiar with – says: if you are an A student at famous school, you are an A human being; and if you are a C student at a nameless institution, you are a C human being. To all this Christ comes, echoing the words of Barth, saying: No! And the promise of God is that in Christ the word spoken over us is “Yes,” to which we can only assent “Amen,” to the glory of God. Our mission as harbingers of the gospel, then, is to proclaim indiscriminately and fearlessly to the world: You are made in the image of God, so infinitely glorious and precious that God himself died to redeem you to himself! You have been created as God’s image-bearer in this world, to bear witness to God’s goodness and beauty, his grace and mercy! You have an intrinsic worth as a human person, indestructible and inviolable, which nothing in the world can ever take away! Oh, hear and remember! May it be seared in the deepest recesses of your heart!
4. Myths of Multiculturalism
“We respect all cultures in the sense that we respect the men and women whose culture it is and defend their right of access to it. We can also endorse Charles Taylor’s argument that all cultures are entitled, as a ‘starting hypothesis,’ to a ‘presumption of equal worth’: ‘all human cultures that have animated societies over some considerable stretch of time have something important to say to all human beings.’ But this does not absolve us of the responsibility to critique all cultures, including our own if – after, of course, a sensitive and sympathetic study of it – we conclude that they embody and perpetuate views of God, of human beings, the nonhuman world and so on which are deeply flawed.
“However, for any such critique to be effective, it needs to resonate with some neglected aspect in the belief systems or history of that culture. A widespread example is the treatment of women in most cultures shaped by strong religious traditions (including historical Christian cultures). Muslim women in Islamic societies mount their campaign for women’s equality on a reinterpretation of Islamic tradition. They point out that the Prophet’s wives were powerful business women, that his favorite wife, Ayesha, was praised for her intellectual abilities, that there is an egalitarian strain toward women, that compared to pre-Islamic times the Qur’anic provision of inheritance of women and protection from forced marriage were socially revolutionary, and son on.
Thus, while the original inspiration for change arises from triggers in the wider contemporary social and cultural landscape, the way the critique is grounded and articulated should, as far as possible, be from within. In cultures that are shaped by a religious tradition that has a long history, it is usually possible to find some elements that can be interpreted in such a way as to provide strong critical resources. Whether or not such interpretations are plausible depends on the members of that cultural community. It is easy to demonstrate that practices such as female genital mutilation, sometimes associated with Islam, are not Islamic at all but remnants of local tribal customs. Where a cultural or religious community engages in practices that are harmful to the natural environment or to public hygiene, they can usually be persuaded to change by showing that these are not central to their collective identity, any more than eating turkey at Christmas (or even celebrating Christmas) is central to Christian identity! When what have hitherto been considered the central values and practices are no longer accepted by the majority of its members, a culture dies. Since the authority of a culture lies in the willing allegiance of its members, it can never be imposed by force or artificially preserved” (137).
Paul Hiebert identifies two ways of thinking about the term “Christian,” or Christian culture. The first is the “bounded set,” determined by adherence to or upholding of certain markers. The second is the “centered set,” determined by a person’s direction of movement; if he/she is moving towards the center, he/she is “in.” Whichever set one chooses to adopt when approaching a particular religious culture (I’m sure that there are strands/schools in most religion that endorse both), Ramachandra is spot-on in saying that the critique of a culture can never imposed by force, but must instead come from the “willing allegiance of its members.” This does not mean that critique cannot come an external source, from someone who is not one of its members. “A prophet is never accepted in his hometown” – surely there is a good measure of truth here? There is sometimes an added the advantage of perspective and authority that comes with one’s foreignness/novelty, but in general it is certainly more effectively for a critique to arise internally and indigenously. More fundamental, though, is the fact that the resources for this critique ought to be drawn from elements within the religious tradition itself.
The arguments used by these Muslim campaigners for women’s equality are extremely similar, in structure and content, to those used in Christian feminist hermeneutics. It is tempting to say, following Forrester (see quote from chapter 3) that the inspiration and hermeneutical moves adopted by Muslim feminists trace their inspiration from the influence of Christianity. But it would be necessary to first attain a good understanding of the development of theology and feminism within a Muslim context before we can properly affirm that. Another place where this dialog is taking place is Tibetan Buddhism, where misogyny, patriarchy and ritual sexual abuse seem almost intrinsic/essential to the religion’s self-definition. (These two articles are quite shocking: 1 and 2.) What Christian missionaries hope for, clearly, is for the replacement of Tibetan Buddhism with an indigenous Christianity. Yet, since it is certainly likely that Buddhism will still be around in Tibet for a long time (to say the least), perhaps what Christians can also work towards could be a “Christianization” of Tibetan Buddhism – a co-belligerence that accentuates aspects of the religion that are in agreement with the Christian gospel? To articulate it again. Whether in terms of missions, interreligious dialog, or pure interest in Tibetan Buddhism itself, to work with resources internal to the religion, pushing it towards emphases that make best for human flourishing.
5. Myths of Science
“Traditionally, Christian theology has described human responsibility toward the nonhuman creation in terms of stewardship. The weakness of this language is that it suggests, in many contexts, an image of humanity separate from nature and all embodiment. It can perpetuate the corresponding image of active humanity and an inert nonhuman property (natural resources) awaiting management, even reconstruction through continual human intervention. It can downplay the wildness of nature and the many biblical passages that speak of God’s independent relation with nonhuman nature. We care about wild nature because it is an integral and constitutive part of who we are as human beings. It is our metaphorical mother. Our fundamental attitude toward nature is one of gratitude, recognizing that our dominion (as the unique bearer of the Imago Dei) is exercised in part of a ‘fellowship of creation,’ hierarchically ordered toward the fulfillment of God’s purposes. Thus our use of nonhuman nature is subordinated to the deep telos of creation and the telos of our own true being which centers of loving mutuality. We can use animals for medical experimentation that has a therapeutic pur-//pose, for us or for them, provided we treat them decently, respectfully, and not inflict on them gratuitous pain. Humanity is part and parcel of nature while exercising dominion over it, and nonhuman nature finds its eschatological fulfillment in the redemption of humanity”(203-4).
Here Ramachandra puts his finger right on a basic problem with typical understandings of stewardship: thinking that nonhuman creation exists primarily for us, that it is something we tame, harness, employ and perhaps even legitimately exploit. But what does it mean that “wild nature is an integral and constitutive part of who we are as human beings?” More than indicating that humans and the world exist in mutual interdependence, I take this to imply that we unravel and journey along our very humanness through our relationship to, in continuous dialog with, the natural world. Perhaps the lack of ecological consciousness amongst evangelicals stems from the impression that Jesus didn’t talk very much about nature, that he came primarily to save people, not nature. But what about the wonderful passage where the Matthean Jesus talks about how God watches, in kindly providence, over the lilies of the field and the birds of the air? I think of all the National Geographic articles/features that have enchanted my imagination throughout the years. If from a ethnographic-missiological perspective we know that all God desires to draw the peoples/cultures/rituals of the world back to Godself, could we not affirm that the Spirit seeks to do the same for all landscapes of the world, from the highest snowcapped mountain to the deepest canyons, from the broadest desert expenses to the densest square inch of the forest? The redemption of humanity comes first, yes, but ensuing from that: the reconciliation of humans to nature, and of nature to God.
6. Myths of Postcolonialism
“Ross’s own field studies in northern Malawi showed how Christians there showed a marked preferences for biblical titles such as Savior, Lord, Healer, even Messiah, over against those which most African theologies have advanced as truly African: ancestor, chief and so on. Such data could be interpreted as evidence of the intellectual passivity of Christians, or it could be interpreted, as Ross himself does, ‘in terms of a community being drawn to biblical vocabulary and conceptuality as a means of accurately stating what it // has to say about the reality of Jesus Christ.’ Ross points out that a comparable development in patristic theology would be the way in which the initial cultural inclination to understand Jesus in terms of the Word (logos) gradually gave way to the Old Testament idiom of Son, as this could better articulate the relational understanding of God which was found in the gospel.
'So in African Christology it may well be that the categories which at first seem to make sense of Jesus in African terms gradually give way to the more biblical categories which are preferred. …As the Bible comes to occupy an increasingly formative place in the life of the community, its vocabulary and conceptuality may come to displace or revise the terms and categories which initially were predominant. It may be that we are entering a time when biblical vocabulary and concepts are no less indigenous than those derived from the African tradition!’
"Thus, as Jesus Christ enters as a participant into the vernacular world of community, becomes known there and steadily comes to occupy a central place in the spiritual and moral universe of the people, his identity and significance comes to be recognized. In authentic contextualization, not only is there a conceiving of Jesus Christ in terms of traditional culture, there is also a reconception and reorientation of that culture in terms of the apostolic tradition” (258).
In a series of conservations with Tony Jones at the Yale Divinity School a few years ago, Miroslav Volf articulated his theological method along these lines. It is never an issue, he says, of simply asking, “who is God?” or “who are we?” Rather, it is always a dialogical process of probing, “who is God in light of who we are?” and “who are we in light of who God is?” To just ask “who is God?” without regard for the human context does violence to the incarnational paradigm; to ask “who are we?” is to slip from theology to pure humanism and philosophy. Asking “who is God in light of who we are?” is akin to a “conceiving of Jesus Christ in terms of traditional culture,” while asking “who are we in light of who God is” is the “reconception and reorientation of… culture in terms of the apostolic tradition” that Ramachandra speaks of. Rather than asserting dogmatically which ought to “come first” in methodology – as is fashionable amongst academicians – it would perhaps be best to say that either could be first, depending on situation or even personal preference, or that both are engaged in a methodological circle a la the chicken-and-egg question. What is most important, as a warm-hearted evangelical faith would affirm, is the primacy of God in all things. This comes essentially as a posture of the human heart, responding to the divine initiative, surrendering to and being caught up into God’s narrative. And as Volf astutely points out, in cases of excessive accommodation or syncretism, what is at work most fundamentally is often a lack of trust in the Narrative.
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| [MC500] My (FINAL) Thoughts on the Last Class Session (Nov 30, 2009)
“On Richard T. Hughes’ Myths Americans Live By. To the Puritan pilgrims, the Atlantic was the red sea, England was Egypt, and native Americans were the pagans of the land, and America was the promised land. It simply didn’t cross their minds that this land actually belonged to the native people.” Regardless of faction or denomination, Christians are fond of claiming that God is on their side; “if God is for us, who can be against us?” Amongst many tribalistic/animistic/shamanistic religions, there is the constant sense that the gods are hostile towards humans and needed to be placated. History has shown repeatedly, though, that monotheistic Christians tend to go all the way to the other end, evoking divine ennoblement all their endeavors, regardless of how wicked or foolish they might be. But it's a paradox, isn’t it? Isn’t God’s name “Immanuel,” and did not God indeed say that he would never leave us nor forsake us? What this points to, I think, is a crucial distinction that needs to be made: God’s perpetual presence does not mean that he necessarily agrees with what we do or think, regardless of how fervently we think it’s true! This might seem quite obvious, but if taken seriously the implications are momentous, and ought to greatly relativize and humble us in all the doctrines and notions that we hold on to so religiously. Let us then continue trusting that God is indeed always with us, but let us also stay radically open to the possibility that we could be very wrong in many things we think about God.
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[MC500] Book Report #5: Notes/Reflections on Donald E. Miller and Tetsunao Yamamori's Global Pentecostalism
1. Global Pentecostalism: An Emergent Force within World Christianity
“An emerging group of Pentecostals // is pursuing the integral, or holistic, gospel in response to what it sees as the example of Jesus, who both ministered to people’s physical needs and preached about the coming kingdom of God. In part, we suspect that this change is driven by upward social mobility among Pentecostals who see a reason to make this a better world in which to live. Members with increasing educational levels are applying more sophisticated understandings to social issues, some of which involve structural and systemic interpretations drawn from the field of public health” (22-23)
God often delights in using the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and indeed sets an especial eye to the poor. Yet was not Paul – with all his learning and understanding – used mightily by God too? Having come to faith myself in a Pentecostal setting that was in many ways anti-intellectual and even against thinking itself (I shall have more to say on this later), I find it very heartening to hear report of these Progressive Pentecostals who are using their education to serve God and neighbor. Though this may seem obvious, we must affirm that education and professional expertise are gifts from God – a sentiment that many un-progressive Pentecostals, in fact, do not share.
2. Progressive Pentecostalism: Ministries, Beliefs, and Motivations
“In every country we visited, there seemed to be a cluster of social issues that were high on the priority of congregations that were involved in social ministry. For example, in Uganda the dominant concern seemed to be coping with the AIDS crisis; in the Philippines the consuming issue was poverty; in South Africa it was the legacy of racism, mixed with the AIDS pandemic and poverty; in Bangkok many ministries focused on prostitution; in Argentina and Chile a number of programs deal with domestic violence and family-related issues; and in India the focus was on the pervasive problems related to poverty, especially medical issues. Clearly these generalizations are not intended to stereotype the social ministries within these countries; rather, the intent is to suggest that Pentecostal churches are sensitive to their local needs and environments in starting social programs” (55).
The famous opening line from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina comes to mind: “happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Is not each country listed above like an unhappy family, unhappy in its unique way? But in the Incarnation, God reveals Godself as one who meets us where we are at, coming into this world to dwell with us. The outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, then, is a continuation of God’s incarnatory presence amongst our midst, further explicated. As a Jew himself, Jesus came as the Messiah to the Jews; now he calls his disciples to bring his messianic presence and deliverance to the ends of the world. The “gift of tongues” is not just linguistic, but ultimately ontological nature. That is to say, the people of God are now empowered to speak the different existential languages of the peoples of the world– languages of hardship, pain and hardship that spring from their daily lives – calling forth from them praise to God. And hopefully, these families will be drawn into that one happy Family “all alike” in Christ.
3. Building a New Generation: Programs Serving Children and Youth
“In addition, [City Harvest Church] set up the best tutoring program in all of Singapore, and this, in turn, started attracting youth to the church, because members were known for the good grades they were getting. In Singapore, which is one of the most competitive educational environments in the world, there is clearly a cultural fit between the philosophy of the church and the social ethic of the people” (93).
City Harvest Church was where I first became a committed Christian more than ten years ago, so portions in the book mentioning the church are of especial interest to me. While I wholeheartedly applaud its social services programs, I wonder, though, about the “cultural fit” that the church is striking with the educational ethic of Singaporeans. In my opinion, academic performance is one of the greatest bondages/idols/challenges that a Christian youth in Singapore faces. Don’t get me wrong: I do not doubt that it is imperative for us to work excellently, and in so doing honor God in every aspect of our lives. Still, I am curious as to whether City Harvest leaders have considered the necessarily counter-cultural aspects of the gospel in this regard. It is well and good City Harvest calls its members to prophetic witness by living lives of sexual purity, moral rectitude, and the like. Yet, precisely because of Singapore’s cut-throat educational environment – systemic sin insidiously and finely packaged – would it not be a more powerful witness to consider ways to protest against it? “Academic disobedience,” harking to MLK Jr’s “civil disobedience?” I’m not advocating that Christians should go all the way to deliberately flunk their tests, in order to protest the system – but neither do I think “selling out” is an alternative for Christians either. Where does City Harvest Church lie within this spectrum?
4. Practicing the Faith: Transforming Individuals and Society
“Where social science explanations tend toward reductionism is in their interpretation of the central element that ex-addicts say healed them: namely, the intervention of God, or the Holy Spirit. What is occurring when addicts spontaneously speak in tongues prior to their first meeting at St. Stephen’s Society? If this were occurring during the meeting that follows, then one might argue that addicts are modeling behavior that they have observed around them. But this is not the case. They have had no prior experience with charismatic worship. And why do many addicts suffer little or no withdrawal symptoms when they are coming off drugs at St. Stephen’s? Is there something supernatural occurring or does surrounding someone with constant loving attention trigger a neurological response that blocks the pain associated with withdrawal?” (109)
Indeed, naturalistic worldviews that reject a priori the existence of supernatural intervention can only go so far when faced with phenomena empirically observed at rehabilitation centers like St. Stephen’s. However, Christians need to admit that even such results do not necessarily prove that it is indeed the Holy Spirit who is responsible; many other religions are able to offer similar mirific results inexplicable by natural science. What Christians must properly affirm – and rightly boast of! - is the way that signs and wonders accompany the preaching of the gospel, of God’s unconditional love and mercy towards sinners. Without the latter, the former can devolve into magic and religious pride; without the former, the latter can seem impotent and empty. And it is this combination of the message together with its effectual power that presents the most compelling witness to the reality of the living God whom Christians worship.
5. Encounters with the Holy: Meeting God in Worship and Prayer
“For people accustomed to rational, linear thought patterns, speaking in tongues may make little sense, because the phenomenon is decidedly non-rational – although not necessarily irrational. Obviously human experience is filled with numerous nonrational activities such as laughing, crying or dreaming, yet we would scarcely think of removing these experiences from the human repertoire”(147).
Miller and Yamamori make an astute point here, in comparing speaking in tongues with other non-rational human expressions such as laughing and crying. It will be further pointed out that many other cultures/religions have occurrences of glossolalia too, although in many of them the phenomena is nonvolitional and often only comes to those in a trance. The heart of the methodological matter points to the basic divide between religion and theology. From a theological perspective, it really is not too hard to make sense of speaking in tongues. If in our finitude we are seeking to articulate our experience of the infinite God, surely it is not too outlandish to think that the language we use will burst at its seams and overflow into non-rational/suprarational utterances? The apologetic that the authors provide may not convince skeptical naturalists, but it can actually go quite far in helping conservative Christians understand the validity and reality of glossolalia.
6. Born in the Image of God: Democracy and Upward Social Mobility
“…there is a clear connection between upward social mobility and living a disciplined, honest life. As individuals give up squandering time and money, the opportunity for economic advancement is enhanced… As individuals become more disciplined in their spiritual lives, they establish patterns that contribute to their work life and business activities. This new ethic, however, does not exist in a vacuum; it is supported by a number of associated factors that strengthen the link between Pentecostalism and economic advancement” (169).
The authors continue to list other ways that Pentecostalism aids upward social mobility: it imparts people with a sense of self-worth and manifest destiny; it offers a tight network of community support; and it imparts useful skills that are transferable into the marketplace, just to name a few. Rather than seeing this as some social scientific explaining away (or even alternatively) the supernatural dimensions, their analysis points critically to the very tangible, concrete, and human ways by which God works in our lives. Whereas naturalists exclude the existence of the supernatural from the onset, the faithful too are often guilty of a similar myopia, thinking that to allow a naturalistic explanation of things would rule out the supernatural dimension. God works through miracles, but more frequently – else miracles would lose their meaning – divine Providence works through normal, regular means. (A similar tension occurs amongst Christians when it comes to the question of the all-too-human nature of Scripture: its composition, redaction, canonization, transmission, etc.)
7. Organizing the Saints: Giving the Ministry to the People
"For a number of pastors in developing countries, it is not feasible to consider three years of seminary education. Who would pay their tuition? Who would feed their families? And furthermore, who would pastor the churches that were already flourishing under their leadership? Short courses in theology, practical ministry, and biblical studies make more sense. While it might be nice to know the history of the development of the Christian church, the evolution of different schools of theological doctrine and theories of hermeneutics and apologetics, for the moment all these leaders want to do is proclaim how and why their lives were transformed and the applicability of their experience to other people’s lives. They are writing history, not studying it.
“Several senior pastors told us that the danger of sending their younger clergy away to seminary, even if they could afford it, is that they lose identification with the people to whom they will minister. Their peer group becomes other clergy. Their language and vocabulary change. They lose the ability to communicate with the very people to whom they believe God has called them to minster. Therefore, in many growing Pentecostal churches, senior clergy elect to mentor young pastors who are in the process of doing ministry. They would rather create a learning culture within the church or movement than export people to be trained in seminary settings over which they have little control and which, indeed, they may not respect” (196).
First, a historical note. In the U.S., it is somewhat normative for pastors to have gone through some sort of formal theological training. As far as I understand it, this has to do with way that the antebellum colleges have evolved through the centuries. These colleges were initially established for the training of clergy and a classical education. But with the rise of Darwinian science, religious/racial pluralism, the adoption of the German university model, and the fundamentalist debacle starting from the late 19th century, theological training gradually got pushed out of the university, thus forming specialized seminaries and bible colleges. In short, during its inception America saw a marriage between secular/worldly and theological learning; both were intended to complement each other.
That is the particular history of religious education in America. But why should that be universal? On what basis can be claimed that academic theological training is a prerequisite for ministry? It is imperative that western Christians not regard developing countries as somehow sub-par in their faith just because they do not belong to a certain schema of thinking/theologizing. The authors put it so rightly: “They are writing history, not studying it.” This was driven home to me most pointedly when I got to spend several days with two intrepid missionaries recently. While many of us at Fuller are studying missiology, they are out there actually doing missions. Though these two were by no means unlearned, Augustine’s anguished cries to Alypius in Book VIII of the Confessions comes to mind: “What is the matter with us? What is the meaning of this story? These men have not had our schooling, yet they stand up and storm the gates of heaven while we, for all our learning, lie here groveling in the world of flesh and blood! Is it because they have led the way that we are ashamed to follow? Is it not worse to hold back?”
Having said all this, there is certainly much to be said about the benefits of a seminary education. As C. S. Lewis puts it, there is nothing more practical in the world than a good theory. Many Pentecostal churches actually take unhealthy pride they do not have any theological training, a pride that can in fact be detrimental to the Christian unity. (It goes the other way too, of course. We’re all proud in our own ways.) As far as the initial, bare proclamation of the gospel is concerned, theological training is certainly not necessary. Where it proves most useful, though, is the long-term sustenance of a congregation, for growth and discipleship. Sure, most of the apostles were unschooled, but something must be said for the fact that most of the New Testament was written by the enormously erudite Paul.
8. The Future of Progressive Pentecostalism
“The problem with generalizing about Pentecostalism, however, is that it such an unruly movement. Wherever it emerges, Pentecostalism tends to indigenize, absorbing the local culture in the way it worships, organizes itself, and relates to the local community” (211).
“In terms of analytical frameworks, the most useful theoretic perspective is to identify Pentecostalism as a renewal movement. Without renewal movements, religion simply routinizes and dies as it becomes increasingly formalized. Renewal groups demonize these formal structures as they seek to connect with the original animating element of the movement. This means that they often attempt to imitate the way things were done during the origins of the movement, but not with the hard edge of fundamentalist retrospective absolutizing. Rather, they seek to recover the fresh bloom of the early days in all of its innocence – before the movement became institutionalized. In the case of the early Christian church, some fairly weird and whacky things occurred: people speaking in tongues, prophesying, and being instruments of physical healing. It is unlikely that any self-respecting Presbyterian, for example, would have been comfortable on the day of Pentecost, which was a chaotic moment in the history of Christianity” (218).
A faith that indigenizes and absorbs the culture of the context it enters: is that not the way Christianity was supposed to be in the very beginning, when Christ commissioned the apostles to make disciples of all nations? The difficulty with that is, being rational creatures, in the wake of an experience we seek to make sense of it. At the same time, structures and traditions do need to develop in order to ensure the faithful transmission of knowledge. Did not this happen with the formation and canonization of scripture? Echoes the debate between scripture and tradition: Where does authority lie? Practically, for Pentecostals authority lies neither in tradition nor scripture per se, but most fundamentally in experience mediated through the Holy Spirit.
Another question that hovers around is: what kind of book is scripture? Attempt at an answer, for our purposes here: it is a witness/record of the ways that the people of God has attempted to organize their lives in the wake of what they believed to be divine revelation. Rather than a textbook containing specific measures that the church of future generations ought to adopt, it is the dynamic spirit of these measures that we should mimic and learn. The fact that “any self-respecting Presbyterian” would feel uncomfortable with a demonstration of signs and wonders points to the very problems of institutionalization: that the formal structures of a particular Christian experience have supplanted the primacy and importance of a living experience itself in the here and now. Pentecostal theologies and ecclesiologies are being written today, but perhaps one thing that distinguishes it from that of other traditions is its inherent sense of openness to the new.
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| [MC500] My Thoughts on the Last Class Session (Nov 23, 2009)
"Every church movement will go through structural breakdown from the priesthood of all believers. It's nature." The breakdown can come in two forms: either people thinking that they don't need church any more, or a hierarchical structure rising to replace what was has been disintegrated. But what is it about human nature that leads to this? Pride and selfishness, it seems. A parallel can perhaps be found in the history of communism during the 20th c. On the one hand, within a socialist system one typically feels little motivation to work for the collective good, if one's contribution is not unique or indispensable. On the other hand, as well-intentioned as the socialist impulse might be, the lust for power remains embedded within the human psyche, with one rising almost inevitably to the top to lord over the others. For this reason, our ecclesiology must always take into accout the kenotic thrust of the gospel: it is by Christ's humbling of himself that he comes into this world as servant king. If we are all indeed called to be priests, it is not so that we can revel selfishly in our direct personal access to God, but rather that we will be able to serve each other and the world better!
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| [MC500] My Thoughts on the Last Class Session (Nov 18, 2009)
"Everyone wants a revolution, but no one wants to do the dishes." It is easy talking about hospitality to strangers, biblical peacemaking, and commitment to contemplation, but what matters most is actually getting down to doing the dirty work in thick of human life. It is no use having lofty-sounding ethics when we fail to be kind and welcoming to the living, breathing people who intersect our real lives on a regular basis. The challenge is to love our neighbors, rather than people removed from our existences. Loving awkward, sinful, or uninteresting people is hardly glamorous, but is that not where the real revolution must first take place -- at the level of the individual human heart? Hence evangelicals get it right in stressing the importance of personal conversion/repentance, before whatever other considerations might set in.
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