Theology Police

There is good theology and bad theology. There is right theology and wrong theology. Some theology is based on the Bible and some is based on human reason. "Theology" means the study of God. It is our human effort to understand who God is and how he interacts with his creation.

I assert that theology based on the Bible is more accurate than theology based only on observation and reason. But we have problem with the term "biblical." When someone holds up an idea as biblical, often he or she means, "I can point to Bible verses to prove my idea." That's how we have people holding "biblical" positions that contradict other people's "biblical" positions. We like to find verses that support our ideas and ignore verses that do not. It's almost impossible to do systematic theology without finding numerous areas of tension.

This leaves us wondering who is right. The answer to that question is simple. We are right and you are wrong. At least that's how most theological warriors frame the issue. Often these warriors are self-appointed theology police, pointing out flaws and misinterpretations in the beliefs of others.

I caught myself doing this a few years ago. I was in a foreign (to me) language worship service in NC, in a church outside my denominational tradition. As the worship was getting exciting and into full swing, I was feeling the joy of the Spirit. God was powerfully present. Then the thought occurred to me, "I wonder how much more God would love these people if their theology was better." In that moment I was stunned at my own arrogance. I decided to resign from the theology police. I turned in my badge.

I still believe that some theology is better than other theology. But I'm going to trust God to set people straight. I'm sure I have plenty of messed up ideas about God, some of which come from misreading his word. I have to trust God with that too.

In the meantime, I do know that God wants me to love people and to love him. This much I know, and that's challenge enough for me. The deeper my own theology grows, the more I see his love.

The Weight of the World on a GOAT

I marveled at Simone Biles' composure a few weeks ago. Everyone knew that she would take the gymnastics world by storm again. She would effortlessly hurl herself through the air, twisting and flipping and sticking her landings. The Olympics seemed like her own stage for showing off.

But then her 24-year-old mind took a look at all the expectations. It's hard to be the G.O.A.T. The glare of the spotlight becomes blinding. Or maybe it shines light on the faint possibility of failure. 

Routines can't be effortless when you are over-thinking. Biles said that she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. What if she let down her team, her family, her coaches, her country? One false move could cause her whole world to collapse.

No wonder she hesitated. 

You may not compete on the world's stage, but you probably feel the weight of your world on your own shoulders from time to time. Maybe you can buckle down and take the heat and rise to the occasion. Maybe you have done that many times. But the time may come when it's too much. The thrill is gone, the joy has become anxiety, the reward no longer worth it.

You want to step back, but you can't find the way to do it. What will people think? Who will step up when you step back?

You know the easy answers: It will all work out. Just have faith. Trust God. Say a prayer. Ask for help. 

It all sounds easy, but it's not. We have to rethink, adjust our expectations, acknowledge our limitations. This may be the hardest work of all.

Cut yourself some slack. And while you're at it, cut somebody else some slack, too.

When Simone stepped back, Suni Lee stepped up to gold for the Americans. Maybe it will all work out.

Cancel Culture

We can't listen to anyone who ever did or said something we disagree with. It doesn't matter if it was a long time ago. It doesn't matter if they have changed their minds. It doesn't matter if there is a good explanation for the offense. It doesn't matter what the context was.

If we look long and hard enough, we can find some offense in anybody's life. 

Here are some thoughts on cancel culture.

We need to allow people to change their minds and mature over time.

It is far too easy to condemn others without really looking at their context or specific circumstances.

Jesus wants us to extend grace to people. That's one way of loving our neighbors as ourselves.

Dead people have no opportunity to defend themselves. Let's have a little respect even when we find fault.

Cancel culture works for and against people of all ideological stripes. 

We all stand to be cancelled at some point, especially with the scrutiny of today's critics. The only thing that protects us is our own obscurity.

Maybe the day will come when society will reject people who have been doing all this cancelling. That will be ironic.

We should look harder for our own faults (with the goal of correcting them) than the faults of others.

People have been trying to cancel Jesus since he walked this earth. I'm glad that he never cancels us.

The Elephant in Your Soul

The room is tense. Everybody knows what everybody is thinking. But no one wants to say it. It goes unsaid in a room full of pretenders. And everyone knows that everyone is pretending. 

Occasionally in such a situation, a brave soul may name it, causing a cascade of relief that the elephant has been named. Finally we can talk about it.

Naming the elephant always feels awkward. We don't know if others will acknowledge it. We don't know if we will be affirmed or rejected. We don't know if we will make enemies or allies. There is a risk in mentioning the elephant in the room. But once it has been mentioned, it has to be dealt with.

Sometimes there is an elephant in your soul. It may be an unhelpful pattern of thinking, a decision that must be made, the inevitable that you have been postponing, a habit to stop or start, a difficult conversation, a trip to the doctor. When the elephant is in the room, you have to consider the reaction of others. When the elephant is in your soul, you have to face something (potentially) much more frightening--your own response.

Once you finally face that elephant, you force yourself to deal with it. The internal battle is the hardest. You may become angry, fearful, or ashamed. You may have to get alone, or cry on someone's shoulder, or go for a long and sweaty run. You wrestle with yourself. You may wrestle with God. It is painful, exhausting, and scary. 

But when the internal battle is won, you can do the hard thing. Jesus will walk with you. He knows all about doing hard things. And he knows about the elephant in your soul.

 

Bob Ross and God

 He's one of the most soothing personalities ever to appear on television. Joy and peace pour forth from his words. Bob Ross inspired countless viewers to paint, and he brought joy to the rest of us with his canvas magic.

Watching Bob Ross leads you down a constant path of cringing and relief. He begins with ugly blobs of color that quickly become recognizable and then beautiful. When the scene takes shape, he inevitably mars the beautiful landscape with destructive, oil-based funk. Then a few strokes later, the new image immerges. With a few more strokes the scene is more beautiful than ever.

On our vacation earlier this month we pulled up a Bob Ross episode. He went through his predictable, jarring pattern, time after time. At one point as he ruined his masterpiece, my daughter said, "Well, this is Bob Ross, of course, and I trust him." Bob knows what he's doing. He mixes odd colors together on his palette and makes new and beautiful shades. He takes errant brush stokes and turns them into "happy little trees." He puts formless paint on the canvas and quickly brings it to life. Then he adds depth and reflection.

So is the work of God in our lives. Unexpected circumstances or people come our way, and mar the landscape of our lives. The colors of strange experiences mix together to make hues we never desired. Ugly colors coat our preferred happiness. Then over time we can see these problems turn into something beautiful. The ugliness gives way to beauty, a deeper beauty than we ever imagined. Mistakes become happy little trees or grand mountains of meaning.

This is God's painting and we can trust him. And with that trust comes peace and joy.

Rest for Your Soul

I enjoy information, learning, processing. But I also struggle with getting to it all. I want to know about current events, biblical archeology, theology, gardening, literature. I enjoy reading, but it's hard for me to keep up. I am notorious for letting magazines--about stuff I care about--just pile up, month after month. When I finally get around to the magazines I often find issues that are over two years old. Has it been that long since I sorted through this stack?  

At some point, all this good information becomes a burden. I find this especially true in my email inbox. I subscribe to plenty of ministry newsletters. They all have so much compelling, important information. They have current events in evangelicalism, the latest leadership techniques, ways to set goals and improve communication. Many of them want to sell me this Bible study program or that sermon series. Does ministry need to be so commercial?

Then there are all the farming and gardening newsletters. Improve your soil. What to plant now. How to get rid of weeds. How to make market your produce. How to care for your livestock. How to take care of your equipment. How this successful farmer does it all.

It's all good. But it's too much. At least it's too much for me. Clearing out my inbox feels like a full-time job. I find a lot of freedom in deleting newsletters without even reading them. I have unsubscribed to many.

I need some space, some time, some breathing room. In this pandemic, it feels more important than ever. 

I keep coming back to the words of Jesus: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." --Matthew 11:28-30

Experiencing Time

It’s coming soon: that weekend when we lose an hour of sleep. We lose an hour so we can save an hour of daylight. Have you ever saved an hour of daylight? Hmmm.

 I do like saving time. When go on a long trip in the car, I try to see how quickly we can arrive (without really speeding, of course). I like to beat my previous record. I might save 15 or 20 minutes. Yay! I like short cuts and learning how to avoid heavy traffic. And I can save time with a microwave oven and a cordless drill. I can save time with careful organizing and delegating.

Where is all that time I have been saving?

What have I done with all that time? The shortened travel time, the organization, the planning, the delegating, the proper tool usage—surely these have saved me hours, days, weeks over my lifetime. So what have I done with all that time. Maybe I had more time to read, more time for conversation, more time to relax. Usually, though, I take that time and try to cram more tasks into it. The never-ending list of responsibilities never gets fulfilled. I might tick off another thing or two, but the value of those completed tasks is often so fleeting.

Maybe I could stop being obsessed with saving time and start experiencing time. Live in the moment. Don’t obsess about the next thing. Be here. A wise person said, you can't manage time; you can only manage yourself.

If I can experience time, it comes alive. I experience it and remember it. I welcome God into the moments and he takes charge. That time is more than saved. It’s invested.