Thoughtful Christianity, Part 2: Intelligent Worship and Rational Faith

Your Mind Matters: The Place of the Mind in the Christian Life, by John Stott
progress: completed

In the second half of his book, Stott gives examples of how the mind is to be engaged in Christian worship, faith, holiness, guidance, evangelism and ministry. I'll discuss each of these areas in turn.

Mindful Worship versus Mindless Worship

(c) Becky Bonham

What is the place of the mind in worship? A better preliminary question might be, What is the goal of worship? For some, it is to have an "experience," an emotional high of sorts, to transcend the moment in heartfelt praise to God. For others, emotion or experience has little to do with it; it is primarily a confession of God's greatness. For me, it is to focus on God without getting distracted by the words or the music, the sound of my voice or the wiggling of my children, or any number of random thoughts that seem to have chosen this moment to assault my consciousness. I often find myself discouraged by my attempts at meaningful worship.

Perhaps another related question would be, Who or what is the focus of our worship? Ourselves, or God? Orthodox theology? Aesthetically pleasing music? Hearts reawakened to God through praise? Or an awesome band that is able to get everyone worked up into a quasi-spiritual frenzy?

Okay, that last one was a bit sarcastic, but I was reminded of a satirical article I read on some of the shortcomings of contemporary Christian worship. Here's a snippet which is applicable to the conversation at hand:

The twin goals here are a) repetition and b) chanting quality. We don’t focus on what we’re singing, but how we’re singing it. The main thing is to get that kind of tingly, "olive oily" feeling. Don't worry if you don't get this right away. It will come as you learn to disengage your intellect. Just free yourself. Immerse yourself. Relax.

Of course there's a balance. It's not just about God, it's not just about us, but it's about us in relationship to God. Stott goes to great lengths to emphasize the importance of engaging our minds in worship.

The only worship acceptable to God is intelligent worship, worship "in truth," the worship offered by those who know whom they are worshiping and who love him "with all their mind." (44)

His emphasis is on truly knowing this God whom we worship. The Psalms are filled with concrete language and images of who He is: Creator, Redeemer, Rescuer, Friend. He hears the cries of the oppressed, he is patient with the obstinate, he is defined by steadfast love and holiness. I am sometimes struck by how many contemporary worship songs could easily be mistaken for love songs between humans, and when that is the case, I think something essential has been lost. We bring ourselves to worship, with all our needs, shortcomings, and distractions, but worship at its best will re-center us in God, which in turn will put us in our proper place, under his mercy and grace, and providential care. As ecstatic as worship can sometimes feel, those feelings can't last unless they are grounded in the character of God. This is why Stott writes,

All Christian worship, public and private, should be an intelligent response to God's self-revelation in his words and works recorded in Scripture. (47-48)

Blind Faith versus Rational Faith

(c) Becky Bonham

"It is a great mistake to suppose that faith and reason are incompatible." (49) Stott points out that in Scripture, faith is not the opposite of reason, but in fact the opposite of sight: "For we live by faith, not by sight." (2 Cor 5:7)

On the contrary, true faith is essentially reasonable because it trusts in the character and the promises of God. A believing Christian is one whose mind reflects and rests on these certitudes. (49)

Unlike Oprah and her friends, who espouse a view of faith in faith (I have faith that _______, therefore it is true), Christian faith is grounded in rational, logical truth, as presented in Scripture, and confirmed in our lives by the Holy Spirit. Stott calls it "a reasoning trust...which reckons thoughtfully and confidently upon the trustworthiness of God." (52) And of course rational, logical truth requires the engaging of our minds. I liked the sentiments of Dr. Lloyd-Jones, whom Stott quotes at length:

Faith, if you like, can be defined like this: It is a man insisting upon thinking when everything seems determined to bludgeon and knock him down in an intellectual sense. (quoted on page 54)

I like that. When I am tempted to doubt, the only thing which draws me back from the edge is a reengaging of my brain, in which I remind myself of God, who he is and what he's done. 

--

Well, I think I'll have to keep breaking this post down into parts. I've got a quiet house to myself for a limited time and should probably do something...mundane. Let's see if I can find a way to engage my mind in housework!

~Becky

Share

Soul Whispers: The Unspoken Questions of Our Lives

In his first epistle, Peter says that we must always "be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have." Further, we are to do so with "gentleness and respect," a phrase I repeated in the form of a prayer many times one year when I was a part of a Hare Krishna discussion group. I had been invited to join by a friendly orange-clad follower of Krishna as I walked down Byres Road in Glasgow years ago. I told the fellow I was a Christian, but he didn't seem to mind, so I went ahead and joined the group. I wanted to be a witness for the truth, but I also had to respect the fact that this was their discussion group, not mine. My witness usually took the form of questions about their faith, rather than statements about my own. This approach eventually allowed me the privilege of sharing some of my own beliefs with them, and through this gentle dialogue, we became friends.

It was obvious to me in that particular situation that tactfulness would be required. I could not hijack their topics or begin proselytizing the group members. The first goal was to take time to really get to know them and understand their beliefs. If I showed such respect, perhaps I might (and in fact did) win the right to speak gently and be heard with an open mind.

There are times when I have not shared my faith so gently or respectfully. My evangelical heritage sometimes tempts me to throw doctrine at nonbelievers, like little "thou shalt not" daggers of condemnation. True as it may be, "You're wrong" is not always the best approach, and may sometimes be the worst. Peter writes about giving an answer for the hope that is in us, and it is doubtful whether any healthy Christian would respond by talking primarily about their own sinfulness or that of others. The presence of sin is what makes hope necessary and what by contrast makes it so wonderful, but what embodies that hope? Forgiveness of the unforgiveable? Love for the unloveable? Healing for broken bodies and hearts? The promise of a future where the world will be made right again? To be sure, there is very bad news in the Bible - we are indeed sinful and separated from God. But that's only the lead-up to the Good News - the comedy that God loves us anyway and the fairy tale that there really is a "happily ever after" for those who will receive it in grace (I am borrowing here from Buechner's Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale).

Don't get me wrong, recognition of one's sin and genuine confession are essential for every person who would be saved; I'm just arguing that it's usually not the first thing a person needs to hear when being introduced to God: "Bob, this is Jesus. He says you're a scoundrel. Oh, and he loves you even though you don't deserve it." It's difficult for most of us to receive criticism well from our most trusted friends, how much more so from this Jesus, who to Bob is a total Stranger?

I've always thought of Peter's words in terms of responding to the direct question of a skeptic: "Becky, I was just wondering...what is the reason for the hope that is in you?" but the truth is I don't get asked that question all so much. In the rare moments when I probably should've spoken more directly to a person, I have tried to justify my cowardly silence with the quote (questionably attibuted to St Francis) "Preach the gospel at all times; use words when necessary." Actions, like words, are essential. But what words?

It's occurred to me recently that the most important questions people ask are rarely spoken with words, but whispered (although sometimes shouted) with their lives. If our words are to take root in the hearts of others, they must address those whispered questions they are asking with their lives rather than the questions we think they should be asking. This is powerful stuff. Time and again in the Gospels we see Jesus demonstrating this intimate understanding of people's hearts, fulfilling Simeon's prophesy that by him "the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed." A Samaritan woman asks him for water but he answers her deeper question by telling her about living water. The Pharisees are routinely confounded when he identifies the true, ugly motives behind their questions, sometimes by asking a question of his own. Even with good old Thomas, whose doubt keeps it real for the rest of us, Jesus knows what he really needs and invites him to touch Him and believe.

So with this idea of giving an answer to the often unspoken but deepest questions of others' lives, how can we "be prepared" to do so? We must rely on the work of the Holy Spirit, searching out and revealing the truth all around us, about ourselves and others. We must embody the love of God, who went to extreme lengths to show that love to the needy and deluded. And we must be like Jesus, taking the time to talk to people, meeting with and loving them right where they're at. We must be abiding in intimate relationship with these Three, so that our efforts are fueled by their wisdom and words, not our own.

Aside from answering the unspoken questions, we may be called to help people discover exactly what question or questions their own uniquely-loved-by-God souls are struggling to ask. It seems likely that most of us couldn't put our deepest questions into words even if we tried. Ideas, emotions, opinions, and experiences hover like the mists of Avalon between the worlds of our conscious and our subconscious. I have spent the past two years trying to articulate a few of my own questions, and I've only recently begun to discover some of the key words, thanks to several Spirit-led friends who have taken the time to get to know me and my struggles.

So instead of telling our friends that they should do this or don't do that, maybe we can point them beyond the command to the Spirit from whom it came. Darrell Johnson gave me a new perspective on the Ten Commandments. Yes, they are rules. But they are there because of God's love for us. He writes,

The Law is given not to tie us up but to release us into the fullness of freedom. How do the commandments do this? By telling us who we are, by revealing who we were created to be..."You shall have no other gods before me." Why? Because God is an egoist and cannot handle rivals? No. "You shall have no other gods" because we were created in such a way that only the one, true, Living God can satisfy us. We finite creatures were made in such a away that only the Infinite God can fill and fulfill us. God speaks the commandment to protect us, to keep us from ruining our lives by seeking satisfaction in what ultimately does not satisfy. (from Fifty-Seven Words, pp 59-60)

People need to know that God has a standard for living. But the way we present that information can do much to help or hinder a person's receptivity to spiritual matters. Pharisaic zeal for rules is a spirit-crushing, hypocrite-inducing, us-versus-them approach. It is motivated by anger or resentment that someone else might "get away" with doing something they've denied themselves. Godly zeal is for souls to be reconciled to Christ. Jesus addressed people's sin, but only after first pouring out kindness and healing and friendship on the broken and outcast: "Go and sin no more." 

God and His word can speak to people about rules and standards; who is more able to soften a heart for repentance than God Himself? I believe our job is primarily to show unbelievers the deep, deep love of Jesus in word and deed, so that when the time comes for the Holy Spirit to convict and guide them into wholeness and holiness, we will have helped Jesus win the "right" to be heard. If our words are motivated by repulsion at a person's sinfulness, they might be better left unsaid - I am especially referring to the case of an unbeliever. But if our words are motivated by a sincere and nonjudmental desire to see a person freed from the weight of sin and released into the full joy of life as God intended it for him or her, then it might be appropriate to speak...but only after listening to the Holy Spirit and being assured that it's His words we speak, and not our own.

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. ~ Proverbs 12:18

Share

Undragoning: Praying As We Are, Not As We Ought

Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, by CS Lewis
Progress: 56/124

"Oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off?" - Eustace Clarence Scrubb

Okay, so as my husband pointed out regarding my last post, I didn't actually mention Letters to Malcolm. True. It was meant as a sort of preamble to some more specific thoughts on his writing, which I have not yet put down on paper. The Letters are there, though, informing my thoughts and attitudes about prayer. This is a second or third reread for me, and the words in this book have come like old friends to visit me many times through the years.

The most specific words I've been thinking about recently are in his statement that "We must lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us." (22) Instead of simply being known by God, prayer is an opportunity for us to reveal ourselves to God, to unveil what is in us. Of course He already knows us better than ourselves; the point is that we become participants in the knowing, the revealing, and consequently, the confessing of our sins to God. There's no point in going to the doctor if we won't admit what's wrong. The doctor may know we're sick, our friends may see our disease, our very flesh may be wasting away, but healing will not happen until the patient himself is ready to admit it and receive the help and support that has always been available to him.

So, we must reveal, unveil ourselves to God. We must come to Him as we are, lovehandles and all. We might as well get it all out - all the frustration, longing, failing, needing, wanting, denying, resisting - for He already knows it's there, and yet He still desires to meet with us. There is no sin too scandalous, no request too trivial, to reveal to God. Lewis' comments revolve around the latter (innocent desires), but I believe the former (sinful desires or actions) also applies. The concern I think we both would have is that of irreverance before God. Is it proper to complain to God? No, of course not. But at the same time it is honest to admit that we have complaints, and where better to have those complaints put into proper perspective than at the feet of God? If I wait until I have no complaints before talking to God, I might be out of touch for a while. I can stew about them on my own, cut off from God by my own unconfessed sin. But if I admit my frustrations to God, they will find their answer in Him - just as Job finally got his answer from God:

"Who is this that darkens my counsel without knowldege?
Brace yourself like a man;

I will question you, and you shall answer me." (Job 38:2-3)

"Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him?

Let him who accuses God answer him!" (Job 40:2)

God put Job in his proper place, and that made a proper man out of Job: he agreed with God and acknowledged his own unworthiness. I find hope in the fact that although Job struggled with God and the assertions of his unhelpful friends for thirty-seven chapters, in the end, God defended him against his friends as "one who has spoken of me what is right" (Job 42:7,8). All those words of despair, complaint, depression, and challenge, and what God heard in the end was that Job agreed with Him. And then He blessed Job.

So, if we will give our brokenness to God, He will set the bone aright. We have the choice to leave the broken bone to heal on its own, sewing its cells back together with the crooked stitches of a child, forever a handicap in our lives. We also have the choice to allow Him (and yes, I believe He generally prefers to have our permission) to restore our broken bones and make them new again, so they can continue to serve our bodies as they were meant to do.

Having emphasized the importance of our willingness to be truly honest about who we are, the question remains as to what extent we are capable of doing so. As with Eustace and his "undragoning" in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, God rewards our attempts at revelation with His own truer, deeper revelation of who we are (as well as who we ought to be). Would it be fair to suggest that Eustace's first attempts at undressing himself was in part what led him to a willingness to be undressed by the Lion?

"Then the lion said - but I don't know if it spoke - 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you,but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.

"The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off." (from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis, page 108-109)

If are to know God, we must strip and be stripped of all that hides the truth in our lives. As The 77s song says, we are to "Pray naked." What beautiful costumes have we rigged up to adorn ourselves in an attempt to feel better about ourselves and to make others think better of us? If must all come off, if we are to be right with God, who "reveals the deep things of darkness and brings deep shadows into the light" (Job 12:22), and He in His mercy will not leave us exposed, but will dress us in New Clothes of His own making.

"You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see. Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent." - Revelation 3:17-19

Share