To See It For Themselves

I've heard a lot of people say something like, "When it comes to a church movement, I'm uncomfortable when a church won't clearly explain its positions." Even in the poll we did here last week, people expressed a desire for strong, clear doctrine from the church. But I think the edges of the church are beginning to move away from this kind of detailed, inflexible doctrinal statement. In its place are the kinds of statements that vaguely point to the spirit of what the community believes. Many see this as a weakness, but it resonates with my experience with God and doctrine.

For instance, if I saw God's face (and somehow didn't die), and I came back and tried to explain the experience to you, I might find myself having trouble finding the words to say. I might start out by saying, "He looked like... a mixture of Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman -- stunningly gorgeous and yet incomparably wise. And with a Santa-like twinkle in his eye." And yet, this wouldn't really describe him well at all. So instead I might say, "He had the eyes of a lion." But that wouldn't really be true either. So I might try to describe the attributes of his face, to say his face was kind but fearsome, gentle but terrifying, wonderful but awful.

And you, the listener, might start to make fun of me and my descriptions. "Did you seriously just compare the LORD of all Heaven and Earth to Brad Pitt?" Or for using contradictory terms, or for relating him to both a white man and a black man (he can't be BOTH black and white). The way these explanations contradict would seem irreconcilable.

So at some point, I finally say, "His face was love." And that's it. You might beg for more details, but I begin to realize that the more details I give, the more wrong I start to become, and the more wrong ideas I give people. So instead of details, I give a vague description and then encourage people to seek his face out themselves. To see it for themselves.

When you think about it, every detailed description was true in the way that it highlighted certain features of God, but in all the ways it fell short of describing his wonders, it misled. To see him for yourself is to begin to understand how far beyond our descriptions he really is, and longing to see more of him again and again.

Even Jesus presented his teachings about God, his own father, in parables and mysterious proclamations that urged his listeners to chase after understanding and to ask questions of him and of each other. He could have given clear, simple answers in our language that would have seemed like enough, but he knew that the complexity and greatness of God required paradoxical, profound descriptions that didn't always satisfy our thirst for easy answers.

When I think about it like that, and when I think about all of the divisive fighting that detailed doctrine has caused, I have to wonder why we should settle for these misleading descriptions?

A Clarification

I received an email over the weekend from Cal, who wanted to clarify the details of his story that I posted last week. Apparently I didn't have the story exactly right. Here's what Cal told me.

Jason,

Thanks for the kind words. I do love my children more than anything in the world. However, the details of the story you told about Jack's death were incorrect, and I couldn't let that slide.

When I heard my boys yelling to me, I ran to find them hanging off the edge of a steep cliff, like you said. I looked at Brady first and said, "Do you want me to pull you up, Brady? Do you believe that I can pull you up here and save you from falling?" He looked back at me and said, "Yes Dad please save me! I believe you can save me!" and I grabbed him and pulled him up to safety.

Then I looked at Jack and said, "Jack, do you want me to pull you up? Do you want me to save you?" He also looked back at me with eyes full of fear, and said "No thanks, Dad, I think I can pull myself up." Because I trust my son and value the choices he makes, I didn't force myself upon him. I let him try to pull himself up. When he slipped, I had a chance to grab his arm and keep him from dropping, so I asked again, "Do you want me to save you, son? Do you believe I can save you now?" He didn't respond, and refusing to violate his freedom I allowed him to fall.

I hope that clears things up for you, Jason. It was good to hear from you.

Cal

I had no idea. What I thought was a choice to show how great he was turned out to have been an act of compassion, as he trusted his son to make that choice for himself and never once forced him to be saved. Like I said before, what an incredible father.

The Best Dad Ever

I was at a Bible study last night in which we discussed Romans 8:28-30, a passage that inevitably sparks conversation about the doctrine of election or predestination. If you take a look at that passage and other related passages (Romans 11:2, Ephesians 1:3, Galatians 1:15, Romans 8:6-8, etc.), there is a very strong case for the idea that we cannot choose God, and that God must choose us and bring us out of darkness into his light.

The argument says that we, being of the flesh, cannot choose God. That God must choose us and save us from our selves, that we cannot resist his call because it is perfect, and that only some are thus called. Jesus' work on the cross was for the elect, so that it might be 100% successful in what it intended. If you want a better summary of the argument, read this. The end result is that God chooses some to be saved and allows the rest to receive their just damnation in order to display the riches of his glory to the objects of his mercy (Romans 9:14-24).

This whole thing reminded me a lot of my friend Cal, who is an amazing guy. I could go on for quite some time about just how wonderful he is in all different ways, but I am specifically reminded now of how great a father he is. The story he told me about his hiking trip with his two boys is one of the best models of fatherhood I have ever heard.

A few years ago, Cal took his two sons Jack and Brady on a hiking trip through a section of the Appalachian mountains. They were a little young for that kind of adventure, but he had laid out specific rules for them to follow in order to keep them safe in the rocky terrain. "Stick close to me, don't run off on your own, and don't fight with each other," he had warned. "If you boys stick with me, you'll be safe."

Things went very well for the first part of the trip. The boys, of course, ran off a few times and fought once in a while, but after a few scraped knees and rocky falls they began to settle in and stick with their dad. The view they got to see when they stopped for lunch was beautiful enough to calm even the wildest boys, and they sat and appreciated it for some time.

After lunch, Jack and Brady began to get a little restless. Brady had been teasing Jack the whole time about his short legs and how he'd never be able to reach the top, and Jack had begun to have enough. When dad was off in the brush relieving himself, the two ran off and began to fight. The scuffle would have ended with just a few bruises if they hadn't been too preoccupied to notice the sharp drop that led off behind the hill they were fighting on. Before they knew it, Brady had pushed Jack too hard down a slope causing them both to lose their balance and tumble off the side.

Being strong boys filled with adrenaline, they had both been able to get a grip on some of the rock and brush that stuck out from the side of the overhang, but the soft dirt was giving way fast to the weight of them both. They called out to Cal who came racing over to find his boys both in real danger of falling 150 feet back down the side of the mountain they'd just spent the morning climbing. Cal, being a strong, loving father, reached down and grabbed Brady's wrist, gently and swiftly pulling him up to safety. Then, he reached back down, wrapped his fingers tightly around Jack's arm, pulled him up and away from the side of the overhang, and then released his grip, watching as Jack fell away to his death.

Brady, terrified and confused, looked at Cal with wild eyes of disbelief. "What happened to Jack, Dad? What happened??" Cal looked lovingly at his son and said, "I told you both the way to stay safe was to stick with me and to not fight, son. You disobeyed me and found yourselves in the exact situation that I warned you of. You both deserved to fall. But in my great love and mercy, I chose you to save, while I chose to let Jack fall, to demonstrate my great justice."

What an amazing father.

Ana Versus Paedo

An·a·bap·tist [an-uh-bap-tist] [From Late Greek anabaptizein, to baptize again : Greek ana-, ana- + Greek baptizein, to baptize (from baptein, to dip).]

Anabaptist martyrs, shown here, died cruel deaths at the hands of the Catholics and other paedobaptists for their belief that an infant's baptism was invalid and so the person must be baptized again.


As I mentioned previously, we attended our nephew Ben's christening this past weekend. Christening, as some churches call it, is the rite of paedobaptism, or infant baptism. The belief is that the child should be baptized into the family and salvation of God as soon as he's born. Within the first few months, the baby is brought to the church, anointed with oil, prayed upon, and holy water is poured on the baby's head, beginning the child's journey of faith in the church.

Those of us with an evangelical background can get confused by this tradition because we see salvation as a choice we make when we're old enough to choose. Our churches offer people the chance to be baptized as teenagers or adults, as a way to publicly profess their decision to follow the Lord. The Southern Baptist Convention, the largest Protestant denomination in the United States, describes baptism on its website:

When Jesus gave His command in Matthew 28:18-20 to make disciples, the directive was to baptize those new believers/disciples, and the word for baptism was literally "to immerse." It was a practice reserved for those who had decided to follow Him.

Baptizing a believer by immersion conveys the picture of a person dying with Christ, being buried with Him, and being raised with Him in a new life (Romans 6:3,4). This act is a voluntary declaration to all witnesses that the person has openly and unreservedly placed his/her faith in the Lord and will follow Him.

For young, new Christians that grow up in our churches, or people who have lived outside of any church their whole lives who wish to come and make a public profession of their newfound faith, this can be a wonderful experience. But for those who have been baptized in the name of our Lord by our brothers and sisters in other churches, why are we still baptizing again?

Let me illustrate my question with a story. The church I now attend had a lake baptism ceremony a few weeks ago, and we attended. The scene couldn't have been more different from the elaborate rite of christening that we just recently witnessed, but the purpose was the same -- to welcome people into the family and salvation of God through the public ceremony of water baptism.

Each baptizee nervously shared their testimony story to the rest of us, but one caught my attention more than the others. I'm sure, if you are a part of this type of church, you've heard the same quite a few times.

"I grew up Catholic, and was baptized as an infant, but I don't remember making a decision for the Lord at the age of 3 weeks. [crowd laughs] So I've decided to be baptized again as an adult..."

I didn't doubt the sincerity of that person at all, but I started to question the setup of our tradition. I wasn't baptized as an infant in the Catholic church, and yet, when I attend a Catholic mass I want them to recognize my Baptist baptism as having been a valid baptism in the spirit and tradition of Jesus. I think we owe the paedobaptist traditions (it's not just Catholics) the same courtesy.

It's not as if baptism is the only way to publicly profess a newfound expression of faith. Catholics who decide, for whatever reason, to join an evangelical "non-denominational" church could take part in our baptism ceremonies, but with a different emphasis. I can't imagine how appreciative some Catholics would be (perhaps especially the young person's Catholic parents?) if our baptisms included a time for those who were baptized as infants to talk about their experience, explain that they have made a renewed profession of faith and are now affirming and completing the decision that their parents made all those years ago.

We don't believe that baptism brings about salvation. In fact, the levity that we approach the ceremony with (clapping, cheering, playful splashing) shows the spirit in which we view the tradition is at least somewhat lighter than our paedobaptist brothers and sisters. Our belief about when to baptize is different, but we all believe that baptism is a wonderful expression of faith and a symbolic act of being raised up in the grace of Christ.

I guess I wish that we'd act on that grace even more by upholding and affirming the expression our brothers and sisters have chosen to use. The body of Christ could use a little healing, last I checked.