On Poker and Freethought

slacktivist: Weak

"A vast number of my fellow evangelicals and my fellow Americans have come to define themselves primarily by what they are against, by that which offends them. I'm sure that many of them are, indeed, sincerely offended and sincerely opposed to the many things at which they take offense. But I am equally certain that many are less sincere and that some are wholly insincere, and I fear that the least sincere among them have taken charge."

The Slacktivist here discusses a behavior I have experienced firsthand, and which the InternetMonk has referred to as the "Tyranny of the Offended". Happily, in my own denomination, I have witnessed a deliberate move away from from the posture of being "against" and toward a more gentle attitude. But the question becomes this: for the broader American evangelical community, how much identity is invested in what we are against, and would the church even be recognizable if we let these labels fall away? For many some people I know have known, the lines they have drawn in the sand define them as Christians and serve as a very effective wall to keep outsiders out. Indeed, for peitist and holiness movements, this kind of understanding is the very foundation of the faith (notwithstanding, of course, their salvific doctrines).

It's interesting to me that the people in my circle of influence worry less about offending the weak in faith than they do about offending the powerful; people who would otherwise step outside the boundary of sanctioned behaviors and actions (for which they hold little personal conviction) most often do not out of deference to offended "powerful". Shouldn't the powerful, the best-gounded in the faith, be the most tolerant and understanding of all? Ultimately, could our separatist attitude end up actually offending the weak (whose definition?) when well-meaning Christians hesitate, or even refuse to meet them on their own terms? It seems to me to be an upside-down system.

A few of my friends in our faith comunity have joined me in living on the fringe in a number of ways. You will never find me engaged in active evangelism, but you will find me shoulder to shoulder at a poker table with people who are very different from those I work and attend church with. You will find me in freethinkers meeting, having a candid conversaton with an atheist and learning something profound in the process. You might occasionally see me reading Darwin's "Origin of Species", or Dawkin's "God Delusion". I have set aside any fear of offending the powerful, and instead choose to accept and engage "the least of these", who may actually have something to teach me after all. Humanity is a two-way street.

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D'Scrooga on Christmas

Bah.

I came across Dinesh D'Souza's Christmas blog "How Atheists Celebrate Christmas" today. I have to say I am disappointed in this conservative-turned-apologist on a number of fronts.

I had the opportunity to hear D'Souza speak a few weeks ago, and I actually briefly met him to obtain an autograph on his recent book "What's So Great About Christianity". At the time, I had only recently learned of D'Souza after watching his debate with atheist and author Christopher Hitchens. I have watched many of Hitchens' debates with Christian apologists (as well as those of Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris), and I found D'Souza to be one of his better opponents. He seemed very cogent in his faith worldview, and responded with civility, good humor, and intelligence. I felt the same when I heard him speak. Having read his Christmas blog, however, I wonder now what sets him apart from his adversaries.

In his blog, D'Souza wonders out loud how Atheists celebrate Christmas. This is a puzzling question from the start, as Christmas as celebrated in America is largely a secular, commercial holiday. No doubt this troubles D'Souza as it does so many other believers who long for a long-lost day when the religious meaning of Christmas was a towering aiguille (if ever such a day existed). Having no one to blame for this except our consumerist culture, he has found a surrogate in the "atheists", and what better atheist than the notorious Christopher Hitchens of "God is Not Great" fame?

In his attempts at good-humored cynicism, one wonders whether D'Souza is attempting to emulate Ann Coulter, or even Hitchens himself (he fails on both counts). Here's the first example:

Then there's Christopher Hitchens, whom I've known over the years and like just as much. Hitchens, alas, seems to be letting his atheism get to him. First, the poor man is never seen without a drink. ... you'll see that Hitchens reaches for his glass with the same alacrity that fundamentalists reach for the Bible.

This is an unwarranted ad hominum attack. While it may be true that Hitchens is never seen to be far from his glass, what is the point? Is this the worst he can say of Hitchens character, that he may in fact have a substance abuse issue? I laughed out loud at the irony of his self-betraying reference to the fundamentalist needing his bible in the same way that an alcoholic needs his drink. But wait - there's more:

Many libertarians are basically conservatives who are either gay or druggies or people who generally find the conservative moral agenda too restrictive. So they flee from the conservative to the libertarian camp where much wider parameters of personal behavior are embraced. To the sensible idea of political and economic freedom many libertarians add the more controversial principle of moral freedom, the freedom to live however you want as long as you don't harm others. Hitchens, needless to say, is at home in this group.

In truth, many libertarians are religious, opposed to substance abuse, accepting of people without regard to sexual orientation, and committed to an ethical lifestyle, the conservative "moral agenda" notwithstanding. Libertarianism, as a political philosophy, prizes individual liberty and personal sovereignty over ones own affairs. This principle is deemed violated if any person or institution (including a government) initiates force against said liberty or exercise thereof. Unfortunately, the religious right (whom D'Souze blithely names as "conservatives") has freely initiated force against personal liberty by promotion of the so-named "moral agenda". In fact, it could be said that libertarians have their own moral agenda, one not based on personal private choices, but rather on those moral issues which threaten the well-being and very existence of mankind. In this sense, Christ himself was very much a libertarian, willing to immerse himself in a culture that the religious right of his day would readily name "immoral" for the cause of promoting a higher moral agenda:

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners. (Isaiah 61:1)

The third point made by D'Souza is to object to Hitchens' reading at a Christmas Party of a satirical lyric by Tom Lehrer:

Hitchens' contribution to the party was to read an irreverent Christmas ditty by the lyricist Tom Lehrer. Remember Lehrer? He's a bit of a relic, like the Monty Python and the Rocky Horror movies. When I was eighteen and a freshman at Dartmouth I found Lehrer and Monty Python very sophisticated and amusing. Most of us, however, outgrow the juvenile sense of humor that they represent.

In order that no one miss the point of Lehrer's lyric, here it is:

Christmas time is here, by golly,
Disapproval would be folly,
Deck the halls with hunks of holly,
Fill the cup and don't say when.
Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens,
Mix the punch, drag out the dickens,
Even though the prospect sickens,
Brother, here we go again.

On christmas day you cant get sore,
Your fellow man you must adore,
Theres time to rob him all the more
The other three hundred and sixty-four.

Relations, sparing no expensell
Send some useless old utensil,
Or a matching pen and pencil.
Just the thing I need! how nice!
It doesnt matter how sincere it
Is, nor how heartfelt the spirit,
Sentiment will not endear it,
Whats important is the price.

Hark the herald tribune sings,
Advertising wondrous things.
God rest ye merry, merchants,
May you make the yuletide pay.
Angels we have heard on high
Tell us to go out and buy!

So let the raucous sleigh bells jingle,
Hail our dear old friend kris kringle,
Driving his reindeer across the sky.
Dont stand underneath when they fly by.

It's worth noting that Tom Lehrer's "Christmas Carol" (quoted eyes-closed by a clearly inebriated Hitchens)is a biting commentary on a commercialized christmas holiday, and makes no (repeat, zero) attacks on Christ or Christianity. What it does attack is the consumerist, duplicitous holiday that the American Christmas has become. This is the fodder for Hitchens' cynical attack, and a point of view shared by many people of faith. Kudos to Hitchens for once again speaking the truth. Mysterious ways, indeed.

As for D'Souza's incursion against Monty Python, well that is something completely different. I mean, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition...

A New Apologetic

One source of cognitive dissonance for me in recent years has been my attempt to reconcile the legitimacy of "faith" (specifically American evangelical Christian beliefs based on a plain reading of the Bible), and "reason" (a universal, objective view of physical reality). Volumes can be and have been written on how faith and reason can or cannot or should or should not be taken together. Paleantologist and educator Stephen Jay Gould identified these as non- overlapping magisteria (NOMA):

(T)he magisterium of science covers the empirical realm: what the Universe is made of (fact) and why does it work in this way (theory). The magisterium of religion extends over questions of ultimate meaning and moral value. These two magisteria do not overlap, nor do they encompass all inquiry (consider, for example, the magisterium of art and the meaning of beauty).

This sounds simple enough, but seems insufficient to explain the recent escalation of rhetoric in America over science and religion, theism and atheism, creation and evolution, and church and state. The controversy widens each day as presidential candidates jab each other over doctrinal tenets, the House passes legislation "Protecting" Christmas, and atheist authors top the 2007 best sellers lists. Clearly, if people accepted the NOMA concept, the conflict wouldn't exist to the degree that it does. Among the evangelical christian circles that I have been a part of, NOMA has been only partially embraced. More often, Christians seeking to make a case for their faith will subject it to the purely modern rigors of scientific inquiry, utilizing traditional apologetics to "explain" their doctrines or beliefs. In the face of arguments set forth by atheist rationalists such as Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, and in light of modern scientific knowledge and scholarship, traditional apologetic arguments (such as those posited by Lee Strobel and even C.S. Lewis), appear impotent.

A new apologetic is needed, one that is relevant to the postmodern, deconstructionist mindset. There are those postmodern Christian apologists such as Caputo and McLaren who are developing new ways of approaching the Christian faith. In the blog A New Kind of Conversation, Myron B. Penner summarizes a new apologetic thus:

"From the Christian point of view, the truth about Christianity cannot be found in modern-styled objectivity. Not only does the essence of Christianity concern the desperate need of humans and God’s gracious (and personal) response to our need, but it also starts with the assumption that human being (including human reason) is unable to save itself. Christian truth presumes to master us, rather than to be mastered by us. In this case, whenever I try to establish the fundamental reasonability of Christianity in modern terms I remove its fundamental “offense” to reason and transform Christianity into something domestic, with nothing other than a cognitive claim on my life. Christianity, however, is a way of being, or what Kierkegaard calls an “actuality”—a way of living with and before God—and not just a cognitive event involving intellectual assent to a set of propositions."

I'd be interested in hearing what both religious and secular folks have to add to this conversation.

Christianity as a Global Threat by Brian McLaren

Christianity as a Global Threat | TPMCafe
There’s a lot of talk nearly everywhere these days about the dangers of radical Islam. In some settings, people express similar concerns about Christianity, especially the dangers of a right-wing theocracy here in America. Whether the warnings come from “the new atheists” like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens or from secular-political voices on the left, the prospective villains are usually described as the Religious Right, Evangelicals, Christian Fundamentalists, and so on.

But largely under the radar, there’s something else going on in the Christian community in the US and world-wide, and it’s a change worth knowing about. Many of us who are involved with this emergence of a new thing would describe it as a deep shift (don’t forget the “f”), even a kind of repentance. Growing numbers of us Christians are ashamed of the ways that we Christians have behaved in recent decades – from Evangelicals backing unjust and unwise wars to Catholics covering up priestly abuse, from Prosperity Gospel televangelists getting rich by ripping off the poor to institutional religious bureaucracies fiddling around in carpet-color-committee meetings while the world is burning, or at least warming dangerously.

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Also read Mike Clawson's critique of McLaren's article on Friendly Atheist

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Wretched Urgency - from The Internet Monk

The Internet Monk

Wretched Urgency

The Grace of God or Hamsters on a Wheel?

by Michael Spencer

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The Art of Scripture

It has been many months since I have posted any original essays here. I could make the excuse that I’ve been too busy to write, or that I can’t think of anything to write about. The truth is that like most people, I have had the time to do pretty much whatever I choose, but have chosen to spend it in other ways. As for having topics to write about, there is an abundance of thought running through my mind each day, and I have imagined a hundred blogs in the months that have passed. So why haven’t I written?

If I were to answer that question honestly, I would have to say that I’ve been avoiding the inevitable. My recent philosophical and spiritual journeys have carried me far beyond the familiar territory of the evangelical Christian village where I have lived most of my life. As I’ve pondered the sights along the way, and stopped in awe to take in the unfamiliar, expansive landscapes, I’ve come to understand the richness and diversity of the human experience in the vastness of time and place. Mind you, this does not diminish the significance of my tiny village, my place of origin. Rather, it establishes the context of my former habitat, and reveals to me the larger canvas upon which is painted the masterpiece of human existence. I have become aware of my own myopia, and the dramatic change in perspective requires time for the eyes to adjust. And so for the last several months, my focus has been in flux as I have awaited a moment of clarity. These moments are coming now as night and fog give way to new vistas and overlooks.

So what is inevitable about this? Well with changing perspectives come changing beliefs. And it is inevitable that new ways of thinking will at some point either fortify or raze former building blocks of thought. Without the benefit of the larger context, the myopic view of truth may seem sufficient, and may be all that is required to be a faithful citizen of one’s village. But with the larger canvas in view, old assumptions inevitably must be examined in light of new information and evidence. Previous assumptions based on universal truths will prove to be useful in the larger context. Assumptions which thrive on narrower view, to the exclusion of the larger canvas, may be shown to be less meaningful or relevant than previously believed. One example of this which has been on my mind of late is the nature and role of scripture.

With few exceptions, the circle of people with whom I have closely associated for the past 35 years would describe themselves as evangelical, or “born again” Christians. This particular worldview has been a persistent thread running through my life. Among the non-negotiable doctrines of the evangelical Christian church is a view of the Christian scriptures, the Bible, as the literal, inspired, inerrant word of God. Many, many books have been written examining this treatise, and I have no intention of either supporting nor critiquing this central idea. I’m simply not qualified. The truth is, however, that something like 30% of American evangelicals believe in some variety of biblical literal inerrancy, and they do so despite overwhelming evidence that their view of the origin and context of scripture bears little resemblance to its true origin and context. Far from being a neatly bound, annotated, gilded-edged, harmonized love letter from God, the Christian scriptures are a not-so neat, often ambiguous, rough-around-the-edges, often self contradictory collection of writings which have survived nearly two millennia in the hands of various human beings, all of whom had an agenda in mind, however magnanimous. To be sure, it is a beautiful, inspiring, and often transformative work. To me, the prevalent literal, reductionist view of scripture does harm to the bible and degrades its value. I find it much more useful to view the Bible as art. And this requires one to take a less myopic view, to take a few steps back and view the canvas as a whole.

Consider for a moment an art professor in a college art class. His fifteen young students are sitting at the perimeter of the studio. At the center of the studio, atop a low platform, reclines a model lightly draped in white satin. Now each person reading this will have already formed a picture of this scene in their mind. Some may have envisioned a dark, beautiful nude female form, others a statuesque, modestly attired greek-god type. In any case, the students in the studio have the benefit of actually seeing the model there in front of them, and they have been charged with interpreting this form through whatever media they wish. Now it can be said with some certainty that this is not the first class to view the model and artistically interpret it. In fact, this prestigious university may have held similar art studio sessions two centuries prior, with students gathered around a model, brush in hand. It is a true statement that each student’s interpretation of the very model they see in front of them will be different than every other student’s work. In fact, it would be safe to say that the work of this class as a whole will be very different than the work of a similar class of students two centuries ago. Why? We intuitively understand the answer: each student is painting in the context of their own experience, bias, and worldview. If the model is a nude woman, some students will take liberty to paint the naughty bits a bit more modestly. Others will paint the figure more true to form, or their work will be more impressionist or abstract. It is safe to say that none of the paintings will render the model with the same true, honest result that a photograph would, nor should they.

So why is this the case? Could it be that the artists work is not intended to render with the exact duplication of a photograph? Wouldn’t the artist wish to put some of himself into his work, to allow the viewer some space to experience the work through their own interpretation? And more importantly, is the painting less valid as a representation of the subject than a photograph would be?

It is clear to me that if God inspired scripture, he used artists, not photographers, to create the picture. The Bible consists of sixty six writings by forty authors over a period of 1,500 years. And yet apologists for biblical inerrancy and literalism will offer any explanation, no matter how ill-supported, to insist on their assertion that we are looking at a photograph rather than an ancient human interpretation, however inspired. All of the artists of scripture were influenced by their context: their drive for ethnic or religious survival, their deeply held values and ethics, and their own personal or cultural world view. Do these influences invalidate the value of the scriptures? To the contrary. For me, the diversity of viewpoints, of vistas found within scripture only serves to enrich the value of these sacred works. The literalists’ reduction of all scripture to direct, God-breathed tenets at best creates a wealth of contextual conundrums, and at worst calls into question the nature of a God who would dictate such a book. It’s safer to assume that God, such that he exists, alone is inerrant, and any human effort to describe that reality will naturally fall short of that highest status. Yet these descriptions, human as they are, still provide a spectacular view and tell us much about the human condition and humankind’s aspirations to become something greater that we are or ever have been.

As Robert Price wrote in his book The Reason Driven Life, “An ambiguous, inerrant scripture is no better than an errant one”. This is to say that a literal, inerrant interpretation of the bible creates ambiguities and conflicts which are unnecessary, and which do the Bible a great injustice. This is as if an art critic, intent on learning everything he could about the aforementioned model, set forth to reduce the students’ art work to their barest elements. He would analyze the paint chips, learn everything about each artist, and attempt to “harmonize” the differences between each piece in an attempt to establish a composite picture which accurately describes the subject in photographic detail. This is an absurdity, since each piece was intended to interpret the subject on its own merit. And yet this is exactly how scripture has been treated by literal reductionists ever since the reformation began.

And so my journey continues. I’m relieved to find that what I thought was a map for my journey is instead an inspiring, insightful travel guide. I’ve learned that the map is the territory, and a rich and awe-inspiring territory it is.

The Ethics of Parousia

15 For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. 18 Therefore encourage one another with these words.

- Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians 4:15-18

In Christianity, Parousia means the (Second) Coming of Christ. In the Greek language parousia means "appearance and subsequent presence with" and in the ancient Greco-Roman world it referred to official visits by royalty. It was appropriated by Christians as a specialized term for Jesus' glorious appearance and subsequent presence on earth—primarily his final return at the end of the world (see Wikipedia).

Paul's special revelation regarding the dramatic return of Christ must have been startling to the church at Thessolonica. Although it appears his point in this statement was to provide reassurances for the survivors of those who had died in their faith prior to Christ's return, Paul's parousia provided a glimpse into the apocalyptic worldview that would later be picked up by John as he recorded his spectacular vision in the book of Revelation. There is little doubt that Paul's words were influenced by the words of Jesus himself in referring to his later return, just as John's vision was influenced by (and indeed, lifted word-for-word from) the Old Testament prophets. These eschatological worldviews merged in the early church and carried into the christian era the persistent theme of a conquering messiah whose mission is to purge the world of unbelievers upon his victorious return.

This morning, I sat through the fifth or sixth sermon in a series derived from Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians. The last two messages have focused on the parousia, and these sermons mirrored in many ways the message of a 12-sermon series on the apocalypse which was delivered last summer. I have lately found myself squirming uncomfortably during any message on this topic, a response which in my earlier life would have been attributed to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. What is absent from that equation, however, is a sense that I am somehow on the wrong side of the fence on this issue.

I have long taken exception to many of the eschatological views embraced by the American evangelical church. I can't speak knowledgeably about the church worldwide, or about the orthodox church in general, but the evangelical church in America seems to have codified the anticipated events of the "last days" in a way that trumps reason, stretches the imagination, and extends its hand far beyond the ethical boundaries of today's world. If I had to put a single face on this particular world view (and there are many to choose from) it would be that of Tim LaHaye, author of the Left Behind series of books, videos, and (unbelievably) video games. Dr. LaHaye has successfully capitalized on the apocalyptic world view in much the same way that Hal Lindsay, author of The Late, Great Planet Earth, did in the 1970's. LaHaye's tactics have employed a masterful fear-based marketing scheme, and he undoubtedly owes much of his success, directly or indirectly, to the current war on terror. The events centering around the middle east serve to bolster the claims that Christ's return is at hand: A righteous, Christian nation facing the evil of terrorism abroad; Israel fighting for its very survival against surrounding enemy nations; the occupancy of Jerusalem and the temple by Muslim forces; the increasing globalization of governments and economies; the potential for nuclear annihilation. All the cards are falling into place, and Christ's return is imminent. Or is it?

For a moment, let's assume that the LaHayean vision, appending that of Jesus, Paul, and John, is accurate. What does this mean for Christian believers, and for the world at large? Paul refers to "we who are alive, who are left" as the ones who will be privileged to meet Him in the air. What happens to the rest of the people, under this view, is well described by John in Revelation. To be succinct, God destroys them. All of them. They receive the same fate as the "deceiver", Satan, the "father of lies" who is cast into the lake of fire. Of course, this is only after being inexorably tortured through plague, tribulation, and general madness and mayhem on earth. This, of course, is good for "we who are alive, who are left". It is not so good for those that are not "we". So the question becomes, who are "we", and what is the criteria for inclusion in the "we" group, and its subsequent escape into paradise?

And so we are faced with a truly ethical dilemma. Christ's return is imminent, at which time billions of souls will face cruel torture and eternal damnation by a furious God. Some of us will escape, and others won't. The criteria for escaping the madness consists of "believing" in some way, ostensibly by associating with others who share a common world view. I can't speak for anyone else, but the scenario seems to be inextricably obtuse and generally irreducible. Belief in anything, after all, is really just a particular way of thinking about something to the extent that it will move you to action. As a result, no small part of the criteria for escaping this holocaust depends on what (or how) a person thinks, and with whom they associate. Granted, how a person truly believes will impact how they behave toward other human beings. But it's generally accepted in the evangelical church that a person is saved by grace (belief) alone and not by works (behavior). And so we're really back to a system of evangelism that moves people to respond out of fear, believe in a certain way, and associate with a certain group of like-minded people. All of this, of course, is based on criteria which can be neither known nor measured, but upon which hangs their eternal fate. This I would call a nightmare scenario.

The truth be known, many religions, including Islam, share an apocalyptic world view as recorded in their holy books. One would be wise to observe that the LaHayean version is no less vindictive than the ultimate return of Allah to take final vengeance upon all infidels. What is truly frightening is that their particular apocalyptic vision has moved beyond the "belief" stage, and is well into the "action" stage. Acquisition of nuclear weapons may be all that is needed for Allah to fulfill his prophecies.

What makes me squirm during those sermons is the sense that the church has missed something big here. Our focus on the "Left Behind" fantasies drains resources, creates fear, and causes the church to urgently move people toward "belief" which, in many cases, has little impact upon their ability or willingness to truly impact the world today, here and now.

I'm not really sure what Parousia means, or what it means to say that Christ will return. I know I struggle with Paul's and John's statements in the context of the modern world. I am sure, though, that one of the roles for me as a Christian is to become a truly ethical person: that is to spend my remaining days increasing the joy and abating the suffering of those people whom God brings into my life. Fear does nothing to incubate true ethics, and a false sense of urgency does even less.

The End of the Spear

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's winner in the category 'Well, what did you expect?' goes to...The End of the Spear....."

I've made a nearly full reversal in my taste of motion pictures in the past several years. Once an avid fan of action-packed, blow-em-up thrillers, bazaar dark comedies, and over the top science fiction films, my tastes have mellowed, matured even, into a preference for more slow-moving, deeply meaningful human dramas of all types. My tolerance for violence in movies is almost at an end, perhaps largely because I have seen the impact of a lifetime of unbridled violence pumped into the eyes and ears of my teenage sons. It's like a switch was thrown in my head that said "enough!".

So I have found myself feeling abandoned, really, by the American film industry. In my way of thinking, the movies I really care to see are few and far between. I want a movie to speak something new and fresh; I don't necessarily need to agree with the movie in theme or subject, but I don't enjoy it unless it resonates with some truth about life that I have never thought about before. These are the movies that I will wait for.

I was happy when the lights dimmed in our church service this past Sunday and a preview for the new film "The End of the Spear" was presented. Being a church in the pietistic / holiness tradition (that is, historically opposed to cinema and other forms of secular entertainment), promotion of film is rare, particularly during worship time. The only other occasion I can recall is when Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" was being promoted. At any rate, Spear looked intriguing because it appeared to have the qualities that would catch my attention. From what I can tell, the film is the story of a missionary to the Amazon who is killed by tribal natives along with four colleagues. Years later, the missionary’s son returns to the forests and encounters his father’s killer, learning about forgiveness, grace, and acceptance of people who he found to be very different than himself. It is said that the producer of the film is himself a Christian, and that he produced this film with the intent of marketing a mainstream film with a message that would appeal largely to evangelicals. And he would have been right about that last part, were it not for one, small, incorrect assumption.

The Christian workplace where I currently serve was abuzz with excitement about this film. The email bulletin boards were full of messages from people looking for tickets to opening night. Everyone was excited, and I heard many positive reports about the film, it’s strong positive message, and how it was a great contribution to the mainstream entertainment industry. Then the bomb dropped. It seems that someone remembered that the lead actor, Chad Allen, came out in Advocate magazine in 2001 and is openly gay. What was really startling was the uproar this created among evangelicals. It would seem that "gay" is rock while "grace" is mere scissors.

Now lest I begin receiving “love mail” from Christians accusing me of siding with the “gay agenda”, I will first say that I have no intention of arguing here whether an openly gay actor should or should not be “allowed” to work on a film with a overtly Christian theme. The question I really want to ask is, what did the evangelical community expect? Evangelicalism and the entertainment industry have always made strange bedfellows (consider, for example, the 700 Club and the Left Behind series of novels), so it should come as no surprise that not everyone working to produce the film shares in the values portrayed in the film. Why is homosexuality the litmus test for measuring the actor’s worth? I would venture to guess that if Mr. Allen were in fact a straight, albeit promiscuous unmarried man, there would not have been the first whisper about his morality or suitability to play the lead role. Since when does the church hold actors to a higher standard than presidents and priests?

I have vowed never to use the “H” word in my essays, so I will attribute the Christian community’s reaction about Chad Allen to a sort of collective insanity. I once heard it said that a sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, while expecting a different result each time. It’s disheartening, and none too ironic, to consider that people who have personally experienced God’s grace and forgiveness in their lives would so quickly turn on a filmmaker for including a “sinner” in his cast. American evangelicals recognize as much as anyone how the film industry can be uplifting and glorious while at the same time ugly and decadent. This is the nature of the industry. To boycott or disparage this film because of Chad Allen’s involvement is disingenuous and sends the wrong message to so many people who are looking to the Christian faith for acceptance and encouragement. Christians have gotten into bed with the film industry fully cognizant of how such things work, and then balk at the result as if surprised.

In protest to the Christian community’s bickering over this film, I’m taking my family to see Brokeback Mountain this weekend. At least both of the lead actors in that film are straight.

Skeptical Faith Part 1

The majority of my blog readers (two to be exact) recently contacted me to ask what has become of my blog. Honestly, I was embarassed to return to my site, wipe off the thick layer of dust, and discover that it's almost been a year since my last post. I read with some amusement my last post, "Unintelligent Deception", and realized with some discomfiture that it read much like an Ann Coulter* column wannabe, penned by a Pat Robertson intern. OK I admit, it wasn't that bad, but I reviewed it with considerable curiosity, suddenly very aware of how much my views have ... ummm... evolved in the past year. Never lacking introspection, I've pondered these personal changes many times in the past months. Am I losing my faith? Am I what many in my christian denomonation would call a "backsilider"? I can say with some faith (no pun intended) that the answer is no. Far from losing my faith, I've developed a skeptical faith.

Faith is not blind. Faith is not shackled by ignorance. To the contrary, the apostle Paul stated in his letter to the Hebrews:

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11:1 KJV)

As I was growing up, this passage was often used to say that when we need to believe something badly enough; when we can't find or understand an explanation, faith substitutes for evidence, for substance. Of course, this would work well in the absence of any evidence which contradicts traditionally held beliefs. But what is a Christian's response when overwhelming evidence does contradict these traditions?

The recent national discourse on Intelligent Design, if I may revisit my earlier topic, presents one such challenge to the Christian creation tradition. Darwin notwithstanding, in earlier days, before geological and genetic evidence surfaced to challenge the traditional view, Christians posessed a certain legitimacy in attributing creation and human origins to the realm of pauline "faith". Indeed, the body of knowledge at the time offered little substance or scientific evidence, and so faith became the evidence of what people knew to be true.

Evidence, though, has a pesky way of tugging on the twine that holds together the neat parcel of the earlier creation traditions. Evidence first of an exceedingly old earth, and then of an observed progression in the development of species began an erosion in the popular Christian view of young earth with its specially created species, "each after their own kind" (Gen 1:12). The twentieth century brought cosmological discovery of an even more ancient universe, and realization of the unfathomable complexity of life contained in the DNA lifecode. It would seem that the earlier "faith" employed by so many previous generations is in danger from such overwhelming contradictory evidence. That is, of course, if one mistakes faith for fantasy.

I have since come to read Paul's definition of faith to be one of humility, and not of arrogance. Faith requires the faithful to accept that "(God's) ways are not your ways" (Is. 55:8). Evidence contradicting my traditional beliefs does not challenge my faith, it frees my faith. Having evidence to explain a little bit more of the mystery of creation provides the substance that my mind needs to understand a little more about God. My faith is liberated, answered in a manner of speaking; freed to help me move on to the next great mystery of an eternal God.

C.S. Lewis once wrote:

We must not encourage in ourselves or others any tendency to work up a subjective state which, if we succeeded, we should describe as "faith"... The state of mind which desperate desire working on a strong imagination can manufacture is not faith in the Christian sense. It is a feat of psychological gymnastics.

I'm thankful to be released from my psychological gymnastics. I am grateful to have a mind which is blessed with the capacity to understand an iota more about the wonders of Creator.