The principles of God vs. the scientific method

Several of the books I have been reading recently have talked about our relationship with God and the Christian preoccupation with principles. John Eldredge talks about how we seek to derive principles so we can control God's wildness. This is not to say there is no virtue in trying to understand the principles in a passage. I do think there is some legitimacy in it, but it can be taken to an extreme and be made an end in itself. But something I read today sparked the realization that our search for principles can be quite closely entwined with the modern emphasis on the scientific method. One of the hallmarks of the scientific method is that a finding must be repeatable. If it is a true scientific fact, the results can be repeated if the same circumstances happen.

Do we try to apply this scientific method to God? If something is true about the way God works, then the result can be repeated in similar scenarios. If God never changes and God never makes a mistake, shouldn't we expect Him to respond in the same way? If the same result isn't repeated, then maybe that original result was imagined, or misunderstood or whatever. It certainly wasn't theological fact, because if it was, it would happen again. And I'm not just talking about miracles, I'm talking about the everyday workings of God. But isn't this approach an attempt to control God? If we can figure out "the way things work", then we can control things ourselves. Because when we're really honest with ourselves, there have been times when we wished God had done things differently. So if we can figure out all the principles by which God operates, we can manipulate situations to turn out the way we want them.

The problem with all this is that God is a person. He is a living being who is just as capable of free-will as we are. And He doesn't like being controlled any more than you do. Besides this, we can never fully understand God and the way He works. If I could completely understand God, especially at my limited knowledge of 25 years, He wouldn't be a very great God. Again, I'm not saying there isn't principles at work in the way God relates to us. I'm just saying there is a danger in putting our trust in those principles. Instead we should get to know this God as a person (not a fact), and trust in that relationship.

Desire

I am reading the book The Journey of Desire by John Eldredge. It is a follow-up on the book The Sacred Romance which I talked about previously. It's really speaking to something I feel Christianity, at least in my experience, has missed.

"This may come as a surprise to you: Christianity is not an invitation to become a moral person. It is not a program for getting us in line or for reforming society. It has a powerful effect upon our lives, but when transformation comes, it is always the aftereffect of something else, something at the level of our hearts. At its core, Christianity begins with an invitation to desire." (pg 35) He talks about the many miracles of Jesus and that each time he was arousing and speaking to their desires. How else could this be called good news? "Being offered tips and techniques for living a more dutiful life isn't even in the field of good news." (pg 43) If the message we are hearing doesn't sound like incredibly good news, then perhaps we're not getting the right message. The bottom line is not how to cure and manage sin. Jesus' purpose in coming was to give us abundant life (John 10:10), which doesn't sound like a life devoid of desire.

Has anyone else experienced this emphasis on the duty of Christianity? I have felt that if I could only get the doctrine and belief all correct, and do the right things, then I would be fine. I resonate with Eldredge when he says "we are told to kill desire and call it sanctification". And in doing all this, I have completely missed the real purpose. I have missed the One who created me, not for correct obedience (otherwise why give us free will?), but for a relationship. The One who gave me these desires of my heart wants to see them fulfilled (Ps 37:4). And I really am enjoying this book that talks about what the heart of Christianity really is.

Knowing someone

I have to post this dialogue from the The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge. It's an exchange between a fiancee and her betrothed. Does this sound like a relationship you would like to have? Does it remind you of your relationship with God? What does knowing God mean to you?

She: I'm so looking forward to our wedding day. I do love you so much. I really wish I could see more of you. There's so much about you I want to know better.

He: Yes, dear, I know. I'm going to send you a book that describes more about my life. I'm sure you'll get a lot out of it.

She: I'll be glad to read it. But I just want to hold your hand. [She continues somewhat mischievously.] I just want to kiss you.

He: I'm sure you do, beloved. Let me send you a tape describing the role of physical affection at different stages of courtship. You'll find it worthwhile, I'm sure.

She: (Somewhat disappointed) That's wonderful, darling. It's just that I so look forward to our wedding day. I want to be with you so badly. I think of us being, you know, "together" day and night.

He: Yes, intimacy is important. I'd like to send you to a weekend seminar that really should be quite helpful.

The Hard-ass Savior

I think the common portrayal of who Jesus was is very skewed. This is easily seen in the lives of those who claim to follow Him, and in the way we speak of the "Christian" thing to do. The "Christian" thing to do has become synonymous with what is considered nice and is the opposite of what may be considered "mean". There are far too many Christians that I know (myself included at times) who are not willing to stand up to anyone or say anything that may seem harsh or mean. There is the idea that Christianity is only about being meek (more often demonstrated as weak), tender, and always turning the other cheek. But that's not the whole picture of who Jesus was. Jesus was not afraid to pick a fight and speak His mind. By today's standards, you could say that Jesus was a hard-ass. He didn't just let people get away with whatever because His grace was sufficient. He didn't let them walk all over Him. Over and over in the gospels, we see Jesus picking fights, especially with the Sabbath. He very easily could have done all His healing on the other six days. After all, you don't want to "rock the boat".

But look what he does in Luke 14. He goes to eat at a prominent Pharisees' house, He specifically asks if it is lawful to heal on the Sabbath, heals a man (and then just sends him away, so it seems the healing wasn't His primary focus), and then exposes and bashes the Pharisees (and remember He's their guest at this moment) for their hypocrisy. If that's not picking a fight, I don't know what is. And look at the cleansing of the temple. It may have been righteous zeal that Jesus had, but it was real fear the people had. It seems that Jesus knew how to make and use a whip, and the people were truly afraid of Him. A model diplomat He was not.

Jesus was not afraid to tell the truth. Read Matthew 23 and look at all the things He said about the Pharisees. And don't picture this as a pastor preaching a "fire and brimstone" sermon to his congregation or someone attacking George W., who everyone yells about. Picture a famous televangelist personally attacking Billy Graham. Blind guides, whitewashed tombs, full of maggots, show-offs, fakes, murderers, and many others. "You serpents, you brood of vipers, how will you escape the sentence of hell?" (v. 33). When was the last time you heard a Christian talk like that, and then not apologize afterwards for "losing His temper". But Jesus offered no apology for His scathing words. But He did offer tears. Right after He finished cutting them down to size, He wept over their stubbornness (v. 37). He didn't say these condemnations just to tell them off. There can be great redemptive value in speaking honestly and bluntly, when it is done in the right way. Notice Jesus didn't say this stuff at the beginning of His ministry, but after He had spent time with them.

There is a place for tact, and there is a time to hold your tongue. And it is true that we must "speak the truth in love". But included in that statement is speaking the truth. And not a truth that is so diluted with niceties as to have no effect. Jesus was not afraid of making enemies. As Philip Yancey put it, "How would telling people to be nice to one another get a man crucified? What government would execute Mr. Rogers or Captain Kangaroo?" John Eldredge also talks about this in Wild at Heart where he says Jesus is more like William Wallace from Braveheart than He is like Mr. Rogers.

Let's face it, the Christianity we see portrayed today is far too weak and passive. But that was not how Jesus was. Look at the confidence and strength He showed when arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane. And He blasted the priests for their cowardice in coming to Him at night. Which of those two groups are we more like? The more Christian thing to do is actually to have a backbone and not be afraid to tell things like they are. And if you make enemies and get killed, you may well find yourself in good company.

The Disguise of Religion

I am reading the book The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge. In the chapter I was just reading, they were talking about our our search to fill our longing for Transcendence with lovers who are less wild than God. Let's face it, as C.S. Lewis put it, God is not safe, but He is good. But sometimes this wildness and lack of control scares us and we look for other alternatives. Things we can do that give us glimpses and tastes of Transcendence, but still allow us to maintain control. One favorite seems to be religion itself. We get caught up into trying to find the right beliefs, the right practices, the right everything. Religion becomes an intellectual journey that is divorced from our heart. Because it has the disguise of religion, it appears much more acceptable. But it is just as much adultery as anything else. It is like masturbating to a picture of your wife while refusing to have sex with her. If that idea is uncomfortable and repulsive to you, it should be. That is not at all what the relationship is supposed to be like, but it is how many of us approach our relationship with God. We want the benefits (orgasm) and we want to look like we're doing it right (it's within a marriage relationship), but we are afraid of the risk involved (sex requires much more risk than masturbation).

There is a risk in having a real relationship with God. For one thing, we have to surrender control. This can be really difficult because in our really honest moments, we would admit that the way God has done things is not the way we would have done them. There are always those times when we wish God would have stepped in, but He didn't. The question of how a good God who is all-powerful could allow evil to happen to good people (and vice-versa) is a question that has plagued humanity throughout the ages. And while our heads may find a satisfactory answer and we dismiss the questioning as faithlessness, our hearts still cry from the pain. The natural human reaction of protecting ourselves from pain kicks in, and we try to take more control. We will still "give God control of our lives", but only within certain parameters. And since we can't really trust that He will come through when we want Him to, we avoid putting ourselves in those situations. We try to do the right actions and believe the right doctrine, but since our heart hesitates to trust God, we just separate it from the process. What we're left with is a form of religion that may look like what God wants (after all, we're doing the right things), but there is no life to it. The Bible is explicitly clear that our "right actions" must come from a heart of love (read the Sermon on the Mount). But our heart hesitates to trust Him because it has been burned by His wildness. So we are left to choose between a form of religion that looks good on the outside, but still allows us control so we don't get burned. Or we can surrender the control, embrace God's wildness, and trust His goodness. There's a lot of risk involved, but unless we embrace the wildness of God and relinquish our desire for control, we will never experience the full blessing of a real relationship with God.

Wild at Heart

Let me put in a big plug for the book Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. It is a book about men. It doesn't just tell you what a man is supposed to do, but rather what a man is. The desires in our heart were put there by God for a reason, and we need to understand them. I was given the book by my oldest brother and told that it had really impacted him and explained a lot of who he was. The first time I read it, it stirred up so much stuff in me that it could barely sink in. Since then I have tried to go through it more slowly and try to digest more of it. I have read/listened to it several times, and each time I do, it stirs something else in me. I just got the Field Manual that accompanies it, and am working through that to understand myself even more. Reading this book was actually an impetus in considering this change of career and discovering my passions. I am always amazed at how much I can learn about myself as a result of the reflection this book stimulates.

For all the guys out there, you really need to read this. It will shed so much light on the struggles and conflicts you likely are also feeling in your heart. And for the women, if you've ever wanted to understand men, this is an excellent place to start. He also has a book he wrote with his wife about women called Captivating, and it is also really great.

http://www.ransomedheart.com/
http://www.amazon.com/o/ASIN/0785268839/ref=pd_rvi_gw_1/002-2310866-0517614

Dark Nights of the Soul

I began reading the book Dark Nights of the Soul by Thomas Moore for my CPE class. Although I've only read about 70 pages, it has already gripped me and helped me. The second sentence of the introduction really jumped out at me.

"If your main interest in life is health, you may quickly try to overcome the darkness. But if you are looking for meaning, character, and personal substance, you may discover that a dark night has many important gifts for you. "

It made me reevaluate my treatment of trials and pain. With my divorce, as well as other difficult times in my life, I have wanted to get over it and through it as quickly as I can so I can return to "life as normal" (whatever that is). But should that really be my goal, to simply be in health and in peace? Isn't meaning, character, and personal substance far better of a goal? There is nothing wrong with wanting to be in health and be happy and at peace. But that should not be viewed as simply the absence of trials. If it is, then this "dark night of the soul" is an interruption, an enemy to be defeated to get back where I was. But when I look at the more important things like meaning and character, I realize that those things are most often found in the dark nights. Therefore the dark nights should be fully embraced. I should not fear it or run from it. For it is only through the dark nights that I can get that which I ultimately desire.