Am I an Evangelical? (7/31/2010)

As I progress through life on my spiritual pilgrimage, I struggle with identity.  As do we all, I want to belong to something bigger than myself.  I want to identify with others who share similarities of some sort.  We are created as social beings and can’t find fulfillment in isolation.

So, I struggle as I feel the need to separate myself from a group that I have so long been affiliated with.  I vacillate as to whether I still find identity with them or have moved beyond the point of identification.  Would I be considered an insider, a member by them?

 

I grew up a Fundamentalist, which is, on the continuum, to the right of Evangelical (big E).  In my Fundamentalist years we were warned against the social gospel, which placed temporary good above the eternal good brought through receiving the message of repentance and forgiveness through Christ!  Things like medical missions could too easily become caught up in the immediate need to such a degree that we might forget to invite people to receive Christ!  If anything, we needed to use social service as a means to attract “fish” so we could “set the hook” with the Four Spiritual Laws or the Romans Road.

 

As Fundamentalists, we also were taught “secondary separation”; not affiliating with those who affiliated with “sinners”.  We debated, and decided against supporting the “Evangelical” Billy Graham, because he did not confine himself to affiliating and working with Fundamentalist groups, but was too cozy with the “liberals.”  He would refer his new converts to any church that would cooperate with him, possible into a church that preached a “false gospel” where their new faith would flounder and fail, lost in liberalism.

 

As I moved through life, I found myself more comfortable with Evangelicals than with Fundamentalists, becoming a missionary that was concerned with both the social needs of the present, but still seeking to present the “Gospel Message” that would assure eternal life to those who would “receive” it and be “born again.”

 

But my time in Honduras “rocked my boat” a bit as I saw in caricature what we Evangelicals had brought to Latin America in the name of Christ.  The interpretation of the “Gospel Message” was so focused on a point in time decision that it seemed to neglect a transformed life, other than that the new convert was to taught to consume his time with recruiting others to make the “decision”, who then in turn would recruit others.  The actual teachings of Jesus; love, forgiveness, self sacrifice, peacemaking, seemed lost in the drive to make converts!  People felt so secure with eternity, having made the “decision for Christ” that they felt comfortable living like the world.  The churches were wracked with divisions, pride and superficiality, missing the point of Jesus’ “good news” which he taught in the Sermon on the Mount! 

 

So, I have become uncomfortable now with being identified as an Evangelical (big E).  But I am not ready to abandon my identification as an evangelical (little e).  For I truly believe that I am to spread the good news of Jesus throughout the world, but this takes a different form than it did in my Evangelical days.  I am involved in modeling (although with significant shortcomings and failures) the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.  And I invite others to join me in the journey, which is “evangelism” in my thinking.  

 

There is a Lord whose name is Jesus who teaches us to live a life that is different than what we are encouraged to live in the world by politicians and businessmen, by our neighbors and coworkers, and sadly even sometimes by our pastors; a life which certainly is different from our natural inclinations to promote self.  This life that we are invited to live is a change from what we would naturally choose, and requires a decision (or series of decisions), a transformation, that may not be so much a point in time response to a preacher’s or evangelist’s invitation, but a gradual restructuring of our world view (repentance, in my thinking) so that we promote the common good as originally intended by God, which someday will become the rule of the land when Jesus returns and puts everything to right again.

 

That for me is the “gospel message” with which as an evangelical (little e) I am engaged, and immersed in living and promoting.

 

So what am I?  If not an Evangelical or Fundamentalist, maybe I am “emergent” or maybe becoming (shudder) a “liberal”?  Some are concerned that I am flirting with “universalism”!  How about “a follower of Jesus”?  With that label, I am content. I find that the path of Christ does not necessarily coincide with the manmade paths that have manmade names.

 

Dave Drozek,

 

Thoughts from Athens

Intellectual Elitism (7/9/2010)

When I was at Cedarville 35 years ago, the hyper-Calvanists were the intellectually elite, or so they thought, looking down on the rest of us, whom they felt sure would eventually agree with them, once we matured in our thinking.  

 

Today, my faith has little resemblance to what I believed while at Cedarville, when I thought I had it all figured out, everything in its place, packaged in a nice box ready for presentation.  What I believe today doesn’t even resemble much of what I believed 15 years ago.  It is continually changing.  It is a journey.  Since I disagree now with what I would have told somebody 10-15 years ago, why should I feel now that I have it figured out, and consider someone else at a different point on the journey “ignorant”?  

 

My faith will likely continue to evolve, and some of what I “know” now, I will likely not agree with in another 15 years.  Does that make me “ignorant”?  Let’s not fall into the trap of intellectual elitism that the hyper-Calvinists did, but instead, in love and with “Christian” tolerance (I mean the type of tolerance Christ demonstrated for those who were sincerely seeking truth), let us ask others to join us on the journey, or with kindness and tolerance, allow them to rest a while where they are in the journey, even though it does not likely reflect their final resting place either.

 

My Facebook response to someone who was harshly criticizing “Christians” on Emerging from the Ville.

Inflexion Point? (8/30/2005)

Currently I am on a journey through the Gospel of Matthew, a book that was so very influential on my path toward deconstruction so many years ago in Honduras.  Back then, in our fledgling church, I taught the Sermon on the Mount to our small congregation.  At the time, I was troubled by how poorly our Evangelical churches were doing at living out the Sermon.  I saw outward concern for rules, but love, forgiveness, and peacemaking were often hard to find.

When I read through Matthew, especially then, I could only read it from my Fundamentalist Evangelical paradigm and mindset.  Reading about the two roads in Matthew 7 was obviously about receiving Christ as your personal savior or not.  The two houses, one on the rocks, and one on the sand, were similarly about the eternal state.

Still today, as then, the passage haunts me where Jesus says that not everyone who calls him “Lord” and does “spiritual” works will be counted among those known by Jesus.

However, as I considered these passages again this month, to my surprise, my first thought about these passages was not about eternal salvation, but about current life in the world, as we seek to work out the kingdom here and now.  I saw these passages as “Wisdom”, much as I now read Proverbs.  I don’t see hard and fast “promises” for life from God, but general guidelines, where exceptions can always be found, as they were in the days of the prophets who complained bitterly that the wicked were thriving while the just perished.  We could discuss that in much more detail.

The point of this reflection, however, is not what these passages actually mean, but that my default reference point has now changed.  The process of change has been gradual, over time.  But this may be the first time I can clearly recognize the new primary point of view I know sit in.  My Fundamentalist Evangelical baggage is still there, for sure, but it is not the first bag I open on my journey any longer!

The Journey (7/22/2010)

I am on a Journey, a pilgrimage.  It is difficult to determine the starting point of this journey. The end point is likewise vague: to know God, and what he desires from me.  This may sound somewhat familiar to Pilgrim’s Progress, but don’t try to make too many comparisons.  It may also sound a bit like the parable of two roads in Matthew, but again, don’t try to keep to that paradigm or it will appear that I am terribly lost! (Maybe I am?)

 

It is as if I am on a path, climbing a mountain.  The top of the mountain is enveloped in a cloud, hiding the peak, the ultimate destination.  The path generally progresses upward, but at times moves around the mountain, and even occasionally dips back downhill.  It is generally bordered by tall trees and bushes, which obscure the view even a few hundred feet ahead, so that it is impossible to predict where the path is leading until I am there.  Occasionally it breaks out into an open field where sun, sky and the clouds enveloping the summit of the mountain are clearly visible.  At times the overgrowth is so thick the path is barely distinguishable.  At times it is level and easy to walk, at times very steep and slippery.

 

Unlike the Matthew roads, there are several branches to this path.  Some diverge, possibly to converge again later on, possibly going another way, possibly up the mountain, possibly back to the base.  It is impossible to tell where any branch may ultimately lead without taking it!

 

I have found many companions on the path.  Some remain seated at a comfortable place along the way, pointing a direction they would or would not take.  Others are resting after a particularly difficult stretch.  And yet others are moving along the same path for the moment, some having joined from another branch that just converged, some having returned from scouting out the way further along, to give guidance to those that follow, but many traveling the same trail that I am on.   Some walk ahead of me, some behind, and some beside me.  Our relative positions sometimes change.  When some of my companions reach terrain specifically suited to them, they sprint ahead.  At other times, they may lag behind, or even sit down for a rest.

 

My companions are an interesting mix of people, some living, some dead; family, clergy, authors, teachers, and “ordinary” people.  The list is long, but some of the more recently influential ones include Don Miller, Brian McLaren, N.T. Wright, my wife Becky, Ed Cardwell, Wes White, Fred Ramsey, some of my students, Oscar Romero, Miroslav Volf, Jürgen Moltmann, Paul Risler, Keith Wasserman.  The list could go on and on.

 

The top of the mountain beckons, although obscure.  I believe there is something worthwhile, wonderful, awaiting there.  I have read about it and heard about it all my life.  Some of the stories sound a bit exaggerated or use metaphorical language that leaves me scratching my head.  But in faith I proceed, yet with some apprehension.  I can’t see clearly the destination, nor even the path ahead of me!  And I have invited and encouraged others to follow!  Where am I going?  Where am I leading them?

 

In a way that seems familiar, yet vague, unclear, incomplete, I hear a voice from the mountaintop beckoning, encouraging, calling to come and see, come and rest, come and eat, come and know.

 

Dave Drozek

Thoughts from Athens

 

PS: in response to a reader who felt I was confused and lost, I wrote:

“Actually, I don’t feel confused, but feel as if I see more clearly than I have for many years!  Part of the problem was I thought I could see in the dark!  Now that there is more light, I realize how poorly I was seeing!  I am re-asking questions that no longer seem to fit the answers I once knew so well!

 

Christ and the cross is solidly before me as the hope, the goal, the example, the redemption.  I am simply discovering A New Kind of Christianity!”

Peace and Forgiveness (4/4/10)

Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but, fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, "Peace to you." Then he showed them his hands and side.

 

The disciples, seeing the Master with their own eyes, were exuberant. Jesus repeated his greeting: "Peace to you. Just as the Father sent me, I send you." 

 

Then he took a deep breath and breathed into them. "Receive the Holy Spirit," he said.  "If you forgive someone's sins, they're gone for good. If you don't forgive sins, what are you going to do with them?"

 

John 20:19-23

(from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

 

 

What is the meaning of this last phrase about forgiving sins?  Another version says, “if the sins are not forgiven, they are retained.”  Is Jesus talking about something we do for others, or is he referring to something we do for ourselves?  

 

The context is one of Jesus having been through the worst man can inflict on another.  Many men would have been ready for revenge, to pick up the sword, or at least begin some insurgent type of movement to subvert those responsible.

 

Jesus disciples, elated at seeing their Messiah alive, now may be thinking the time for the sword has arrived, the time to overthrow Rome, the time to establish the Kingdom!

 

But Jesus greets them with “Peace to you. Just as the Father sent me, I send you.”  Jesus followers were to follow his example, his pathway.  Did this mean humility, sacrifice and even death?

 

Then, in the next breath, Jesus talks about forgiveness.  In the context, it is obvious who he is speaking about; all those responsible for his painful death: the religious leaders, the Romans, the population at large who turned their backs on the one who had fed them and led them with this new teaching.

 

“Forgive their sins, and they are gone for good.”  The sins will no longer be festering, crying for revenge within the disciples’ hearts and souls.  This is reminiscent of Jesus’ earlier teaching on prayer, that the basis of our forgiveness from God is our forgiveness of others.  If we fail to forgive the sins of others, then their sin is retained.  Retained where? In them, or maybe in us?  Maybe this is referring to the memory of their sins abiding in our hearts, preventing us from finding forgiveness for our own sins, preventing us from finding the Peace that Jesus offers?

 

Happy Resurrection Day!

 

Dave Drozek

The Overstuffed Box (3/30/10)

Have you ever tried to carry a soggy, overstuffed cardboard box?  It tends to not go too well, the bottom falling out, and the contents escaping uncontrollably onto the ground before you, which if not careful, you will tread upon.

 

 My theology was like that.  When I graduated from college with a minor in Bible, I had a nice neat box for my theology.  As I moved into the world, the box became rumbled and worn, as I often found myself forcing it into spaces where it didn’t fit too well.  It also seemed that the contents actually grew, making the box insufficient to maintain them.  The sides of the box bulged.  Little bits of the content pushed out at the corners and at the strained top edges that were unfolding, unable to hold things in.

 

The experiences of life added humidity to the box, at times even raining down upon the box, which I desperately tried to shield from damage.  Even though I valued the box and its contents, I found I could no longer carry it with me everywhere I went.  The box was threatening to fall apart if moved too much, so I left it in a secure location, sheltered, always with the memory of it close at hand.

 

But I found that I too often needed the box, or at least its contents, which were inconveniently stored safe at home, free from the influence of a harsh environment.  Finally, I gave in to the need and carried the box with me everywhere I went.  It was really awkward, as the bottom threatened to give way if I did not support it just so.  I had to keep a weight on the lid to keep it closed.  I actually found myself so preoccupied with maintaining the integrity of the box that I forgot about the contents!

 

Finally, one day, the box disintegrated and left me with an amorphous blob of content that I could not make sense of.  I tried to pick it up, but it flowed out of my arms, back onto the floor.  I simply could not contain it or manage to carry it with me.

 

Then I discovered a duffle bag; soft, malleable, changeable depending on the outward demands for space and size, and much more convenient to carry.  The contents easily fit, and could comfortably bulge here or there without the rigidity of walls.  Now I can easily carry the duffle bag with me, slung over my shoulder, no need to apologize for its awkwardness or unsightly condition.  It also serves me well as a pillow or prop when I am tired, and even allows me to enter and use it as a sleeping bag or shelter when it is inclement. 

 

 

Is there room in the church? (Palm Sunday 2010)

 

Jesus went straight to the Temple and threw out everyone who had set up shop, buying and selling. He kicked over the tables of loan sharks and the stalls of dove merchants. He quoted this text:

 

My house was designated a house of prayer;

You have made it a hangout for thieves. 

 

Now there was room for the blind and crippled to get in. They came to Jesus and he healed them. 

Matt 21:12-14

(from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

 

 

As I read this passage this morning, I was struck with the way The Message put this.  It changed my whole thinking about what Jesus did in the temple.  Maybe he wasn’t so upset about what was being done as he was about what was NOT being done in the temple.  Business and organization had pushed out those in need, those who were inefficient, those who drained our resources, rather than serving them!

 

Is this what we do today?  Are we all about expediency?  Do we really want “those people” in the church who are emotionally needy, who want to monopolize our time and conversation?  Do we want those who are on the margin of society to sit next to us, to require that we smell them, maybe even to help them in some way?  Don’t we rather prefer to sneak in, talk to our friends, and leave quickly, avoiding eye contact with the unlovely?

 

What would Jesus do if he came to our church today?  Hmm….

 

 

Dave Drozek,

thoughts from Athens