SQ - Spiritual Intelligence

It was the last night of my groups’ work hosting a weekly night at a rotating homeless shelter called the Robes Project. It was a night like any other and I was doing the usual overnight shift. I often arrive early and help work the dinner shift as well, cooking food, then eating and hanging out with the guests. There was the group of guests and volunteers who had finished eating and started playing Scrabble. Another volunteer was playing a guest in chess. There was the group of guests reading the newspaper. Some people were still eating dessert. Two guests were speaking in their native Sierra Leonean pigeon English. Music was playing in the background and laughter could be heard in the air as many of the books we brought for the donated library sat there, unread. Suddenly one guest, a very distinguished man with a nice black blazer, well-wrapped scarf, and reading glasses, stood up and declared, “Excuse me, excuse me, everyone. I have an announcement to make.”

He was a type of father figure in Robes. He could talk to and with anyone, and he could feel just as comfortable reading to himself in the middle of all our noise, like a father might feel at home in the evening in his favourite chair, drawing comfort from the fact that his children were happy, playful, and alive. This time he made a rare move and took centre stage before all the guests and volunteers.

“I’ve received permission from Olivia and Crispan to make this announcement. As you all know, tonight is the last night for the volunteers here. From now on our Friday nights will be spent at another hosting community. We have been so richly blessed by you and we want to say thank you. The food was amazing. The way you talked to us, laughed with us, played games with us, brought books for us—we were treated so well, and we want to say thank you. The conversation, the love, the joy—it was just amazing and overwhelming. Simply the best. Thank you so very much from the bottom of our hearts. Thank you. May the Good Lord, in all his wondrous workings, richly bless you this day for what you have done with us and for us. May you be richly blessed in all you do wherever you go in Jesus’s name.”

At that moment, the place erupted in applause. Applause is a weird thing to get used to. Some famous people do. I sometimes have to diffuse the energy, so I just jumped in and applauded as well, thanking the guests, too, and thanking the other volunteers who allowed me to participate in this work of learning to relate to the guests. It really was a beautiful moment.

Here is the strange thing: the guests were specifically calling attention to our work over and above the work of other church groups and community groups that host the shelter on other nights. This floored me and blew my mind. They were not saying “Thank you for caring for us when no one did.” No. They were saying “In caring for us, thank you for loving us over and above what was required.” They were saying, “we are cared for a lot by many others, but it is not like this. We are not always loved.” Do you see what I’m saying? I guess, I was surprised because most of the community groups hosting were church groups, and I stereotyped the churches and expected that they would all simply love all over the guests.

I was wrong. Apparently, we were the only people who created a library. However, instead of it being the kind where you return or swap the book, you could keep the book. We were the only ones who brought games. We were the only ones who actually called up the Robes administration (or other hosting groups) to find out what the guests ate throughout the week so that we could cook something original. When my group decided to do the Robes project this year, we decided one thing—we were going to cook the best food ever, food we would cook for ourselves, our families, and our friends. And it makes sense to me because the guests became our friends.

So every week, without a doubt or an aberration, multiple guests told me that we cook the best food.

“The food here is amazing.”

“This is just like home-cooked food. It’s so hearty.”

“We all look forward to coming here every week.”

“I’ve been waiting for Friday just for the meal. We always know it’s going to be good.”

“Uhhh, I’m so sick of pasta and apple crumble. I know I’m gonna get something good tonight! I can’t wait!”

Second helpings and plates were commonplace. I’ve even seen thirds and fourths. People really loved it, whether it was lamb stew, Moroccan chicken, vegetarian curry, or Belgian waffles. To them it was always good. Take it from me, it was goooood. The experience of doing that and the amazingly wonderful time the guests and volunteers had reminded me of why I like my group—they are spiritually intelligent. And just because you’re religious doesn’t mean you’re spiritually intelligent (this explains my surprise at finding out our night was seen as special among all nights of the week for the rotating shelter, even though they are hosted by churches). You can be non-religious and highly spiritually intelligent, and you can be very religious with little spiritual intelligence. This experience reminded me of that truth. This reminded me of that.

I should probably define or explain spiritual intelligence. But let me backtrack to emotional intelligence. We all remember or have heard of the traditional Western understanding of intelligence. I still see it in schools today. This person is smart. That person is dumb. For a long time rational or logical intelligence was the only recognized form of intelligence—IQ. Then Professor Howard Garner was the first person to explicitly articulate the still controversial idea of multiple intelligences in the 1983 book Frames of Mind: The Theory of Multiple Intelligences. Though some disagree, people began to realise you can be intelligent in many different ways such as kinesthetic intelligence, musical intelligence, social intelligence, linguistic intelligence, etc. Then another wave of ideas and books were birthed when Daniel Goleman’s 1995 book, Emotional Intelligence (the first use of the term is usually attributed to Wayne Payne’s doctoral thesis in 1985), argued that emotional intelligence (EQ) is at least as important as IQ. Emotional intelligence deals with being aware of people feelings as well as being self-aware of our own. It involves being able to “read” people and situations and enables empathy, compassion, and response to the pain or pleasure of others. You can cultivate and grow EQ throughout your life; it is not static.

However, few of my friends have ever talked to me about spiritual intelligence. The idea started popping up around the late 90’s and one 2001 book, SQ: Connecting with Our Spiritual Intelligence by Danah Zohar and Dr. Ian Marshall, considers spiritual intelligence the most important intelligence. While IQ and EQ mallow you to play within the boundaries, SQ allows you to play with the boundaries and question and criticise the status quo, why things are the way the are, or the meaning of our ways. It allows you to imagine new creative possibilities—the way real faith should be. Spiritual intelligence looks at the big questions and asks them. Why am I here? What is it all for? What should I do with my life? What purpose can I serve? It asks the tough questions about values, existence, meaning, and purpose, allowing you to transcend, at least in thought, the physical and material. Spiritual intelligence deals with the sanctifying of every day experience and the inner life of the mind and spirit and its relation to the world. It’s really just the adaptive mental capacity to deal with nonmaterial things like purpose and meaning, reflect on it, and integrate it into your life such that it affects your understanding of meaning, your awareness of things (whether causes or purposes) bigger than yourself, and peace.

Did you catch the recurring theme in there? It’s the use of reflection and questioning. Unfortunately many religious groups or institutions stifle this type of questioning, criticism, or imagination allowing for little spiritually intelligent growth. Because of the importance for reflection and questioning of the status quo, you can be an atheist with a very high SQ; on the other hand, you can be a staunch religious person and have a very low SQ.

What I love about my group that works to host a night at the rotating shelter is that they are so spiritually intelligent. Though it’s rare that they reference God or Jesus in a meeting, every thing we do—whether a type of service, a pub get-together, or a meal—is pushing us to develop our spiritual intelligence. It’s one of the few experiences I’ve had of being in a group in which people are not encouraged to believe the same things. And for all the critics who say this is untenable or impossible, let me tell you—it works. The only foundation we share in common is love. And love is not a belief.

I have some amazingly spiritually intelligent friends who are not religious, and I’m thankful for them. They care for the sick, host weekly community dinners, give money they don’t have, live in uncomfortable places and spaces for the sake of someone besides themselves. They serve in the military, they teach, they clean buildings, they quench fires, they do a myriad of tasks, and their lives (not just their jobs) are infused with spiritually intelligent actions.

Spiritual intelligence is living and thinking with your soul. Everyone can do that regardless of having a religion. But what does that mean? Dave Tomlinson talks about spiritual intelligence in his book How to be aBad Christian. Some of the qualities he lists are below:

Self-awareness

Principle

Spontaneity

Empathy

Humility

Curiosity

Flexibility

Resilience

Being centred or grounded

Receptivity

Dave lists three ways of cultivating spiritual intelligence. First just make a commitment to go on this inward-outward journey (he calls it an inward journey). I always remind my friends that spiritual intelligence is an outward intelligence as well. The journey starts with questions and reflections but it doesn’t end there. First, you have to commit to start.

The second important thing is to participate in spiritual practices.

To yourself – what are you feeling but ignoring, what thoughts are you pushing to the back of your mind

To other people – friends and family whose concerns or needs you tend to bypass or overlook, strangers who pass by unseen by you

To situations – circumstances in your life that may be saying important things to you or about you

To the world – big things, little things, things of beauty, things you may not have noticed, details that pass you by, unawares

To God – who is present in all these other ways seeking to enrich you and guide you

Last is a hugely important step without which the first two steps don’t mean anything: you have to find a community to go on this journey with you. I know people for whom leaving their church was a spiritually healthy move. I have a friend for whom leaving her church did her faith well because she was in a place that was toxic for her faith. I wish all religious places were about the business of growing spiritually healthy and intelligent people, but we are not. Still, I never want to make the mistake of thinking that it’s a journey that can be done alone. If you venture out from a tough community, find another one that you can work with, one that welcomes and accepts you in love, one that honours and respects you, and one that is concerned about you and your spiritual growth. You have to travel with people that will affirm you and encourage you and also speak truthfully to you, empowering you and enabling you to grow.

No church or religious group or institution is perfect. And there are some amazing examples of church groups that do help to cultivate your spiritual intelligence. I travel around and go between religious groups, but I can tell you that Borough Common, my group that hosts the rotating homeless shelter is a wonderful community of people. They let you ask any question you want, critical or unchallenging. They let you probe who we are as a people, where we are going, and what we are doing. Most importantly, they let you believe what you would like and in the process they love you unconditionally. They are not perfect in any way and you’ll see that when you visit. But I love that I, first, belong. First and foremost, I belong.

LIVING QUESTIONS IN COMMUNITY

I saw this title (Living Questions in Community) in a book I’m reading, though I haven’t read that chapter yet. But I know a bit what he’s getting at. One of my book clubs read a book called “Love Wins” by Rob Bell. It’s supposed to be a controversial book in Western Christian circles because the pastor questions the doctrine of hell or the dominant interpretation of it. His questions and his current understanding of the answers to those questions have upset a lot of people. He’s being called a universalist (which Universalist/Unitarians like), a blasphemer, a heretic, etc. So I’ve been watching somewhat, and yet completely fascinated.


What’s fascinating is not that he’s saying anything new (he’s not), but many of the people in Western Christianity aren’t exposed to the wide diversity of Christian thought and perspectives because only certain dominant ones are presented. Most people who see the entire spectrum are professors or seminarians, but not lay people. So what’s fascinating is that there is a man who wrote a set of books called “The Chronicles of Narnia.” He was a friend of J.R. Tolkien and his name is C. S. Lewis. Now C. S. Lewis is rather interesting to me because he is quoted by a lot of people in mainstream Christianity or who promote the dominant versions of it. Because of this, I was never eager to read him because I pretty much knew what he would say (I’ve read fiction works by him). So I decided to read him last year, and I was glad I did. He’s very different than I thought, and he thinks a lot of unconventional things, one among them is his understanding of hell. Lewis’s understanding of hell is very similar to Bell’s but Lewis never received (and doesn’t receive) a backlash like Bell received. That’s fascinating to me. It’s fascinating to me that people quote Lewis in some passages but ignore other parts of the same work or other works in which he may something quite controversial (to dominant forms of Western Christianity).

Now I don’t believe you can only quote someone if you agree with everything they said. That’s not a good policy. But I do think you should only quote someone if you agree with everything they said that is central to who they were and if the centrality of her message births the passage you’re quoting. Let me give an example. There have been a few conservative news commentators who have quoted Martin Luther King Jr. or have said they support his dream; however, at the same time they supported the war in Iraq. Now this is complete conjecture, but I’m going to make an educated conjecture. I think it’s quite fair to say that Martin Luther King Jr. would have opposed the war in Iraq giving his writings, his speeches, even his opposition to the Vietnam War. In fact, the strange thing about supporting part of his message (like the “Dream” speech) is that the dream speech is completely connected to his views about going to war in Vietnam, and I posit, Iraq, as well. Martin Luther King Jr. was a peace man, and he was a man who practiced the way of love. It was from that sensibility, and even more, that way of life that the “I have a dream” speech flowed and from that same understanding that I believe he would have opposed the war in Iraq (and probably Afghanistan).

So those occurrences in the news reminded me that I left out one characteristic about a church I would create or found. I want a place that understands how to live questions in community, a church with questions. I have thought about what that looks like. At first I thought it would be nice to have a board of judges who would review cases in which understandings of God would be challenged and that would make decisions on doctrinal amendments or clarifications (like the constitution; this process happens clumsily and inadvertently in religious groups like the Mormons). Such a board reminds me of the Supreme Court, but with the potential for abuse it reminded me of the Spanish Inquisition.

The main point is that some people have said that I am against institutions. That’s not true. I have worked to institutionalize good movements. That’s our hope. You start or join a social movement that seeks to create change to old institutions. Then one day the social movement is institutionalized and becomes the new institution. The new institution is celebrated because it is an improvement to the old institution. The new institution corrects the wrongs of the previous institution. But then what happens? Well, the new institution hasn’t arrived itself. But it thinks it has. So gradually it becomes more and more resistant to change, to the change that it initially institutionalized; thus, it becomes like the very institution it replaced, not in content but in how it manages the content, allows thought, and decides rules and doctrine. I wonder if you see what I’m saying.

I’m deathly afraid of this happening to me, that I grow up and run some organization or group that I started or that corrected or solved a problem in society. Then one day people in my organization want to make it better but I resist it and then I become the very person I used to fight against, but now, in a new generation. I saw this when I was a teacher at my innovative school, and I hated it. I hated that process, and I didn’t understand why it happens. I wonder if it has to do with the increasing distance that happens with institutionalization. One loses one’s “feet on the ground.” The ground perspective is always crucial.

So my dream is a system in which social movements become institutions that continue to meld and mold according to corrective social movements that show where the institution is lacking. Instead new institution after new institution, I want an ever-changing, never-complacent institution that continually births, promotes, educates, and questions itself through social movements and then answers, incorporates, and grows with those social movements birthing a new stage for a higher point of awareness and consciousness. That’s my hope.

Sometimes people think they you remain conservative is to cling to the message (the content) of the social movement that became institutionalized. In reality, to be conservative in the truest sense of the word (conserving the spirit of the institutionalized social movement) you must be willing to make the resulting institution better and respectfully question the new place you are at. In other words, you conserve the spirit of the movement; you remain faithful by betraying it, questioning it. It’s the fidelity of betrayal all over again. That’s my hope.

Booksneeze Review: "Finding Our Way Again" by Brian McLaren

A Breath of Fresh Air


I recently read Brian McLaren’s “Finding Our Way Again,” the introductory book of the book series “The Return of the Ancient Practices” edited by Phyllis Tickle. I was asked to write a review of the book, and all I can think is that it has been a breath of fresh air.

Before starting, I read a few reviews of the book, and now that I’ve read the book, I want to address one criticism of the book and other books of Brian McLaren. That criticism is the issue of his “bad theology.” Comments like this always entertain me, partly because, in my educated experience, no one’s theology is all correct. If I look at everything that I understand and believe about all aspects of life, my religion, God, and people in general, it’s not only continually growing in size (new knowledge) but it is also continually changing (corrections to old knowledge). So I think McLaren would readily admit he doesn’t have it all together; neither do I. Additionally, there’s a second problem with the criticism. Besides the fact that I doubt any of us have a correct theology, it’s clear to me that criticisms on his theology are simply a matter of interpretational perspective.

In other words, conventional interpretations (of why Jesus came, the place of other religions, hell, etc.) make sense from the scripture if you understand the lens through which a conventional interpreter looks. The same is true for McLaren. If you understand the interpretational lens through which he views the scripture, then everything he says (or most things as he is quite comfortable wrestling through interpretation publicly) actually does make sense. So the understanding or view that he twists scripture or claims it says what it doesn’t is false; this is because what it says is interpretation. Understanding how he views words like “salvation” or “eternal life” explains that, through the interpretational lens he uses, the scriptures actually do say what is saying. The same is true for more traditional interpretations of scriptures. If you understand what a person understands when reading words like “hell” or “believe” or “salvation,” then you see, that the scripture does say what a traditional interpreter says. It’s the lens that’s important. If a reader uses a different lens than the writer of a book of biblical commentary, then of course the reader will say that the writer is lying and making things up or contradicting what the scripture says.

Besides that, the book is quite engaging, and sweet, like a song. He writes in a very personal, sometimes conversational style. But he mostly employs short story. And story is quite powerful when trying to make a point without forcing it. It’s through this medium that the book shines. And McLaren really quickly engages the reader through it.
I’ll be honest, though. While reading through the first section of the book (the first third), I kept thinking why did this book have to be written. In the series there is a separate book on each ancient practice—constant prayer, Sabbath, fasting, tithing, the sacred meal, the liturgical year, and the sacred journey (pilgrimage). Why did we need an entire book for an introduction? And I find often that what you get out of a book depends on where you are. So part one, which set the stage for the series, was familiar to me and contained material found in many of McLaren’s books, though not as deeply treated. He talks of the Jesus he understands and what Jesus’s kingdom means, and the way of love advocated by Paul. McLaren also talks about the many different denominational practices within Christianity (and Judaism and Islam) and how over the years he has been able to take the best of each one. I resonated with this thought which he roughly refers to as open-source spirituality. We have much to learn from each other and to give to each other.



So I didn’t expect anything new in Part II, but it was at this point that I began to be pulled in. After explaining in part one that spiritual practice help us develop character, become awake (truly alive), and finally experience God; he groups the spiritual practices in three categories: contemplative, communal, and missional practices. What I love about Brian is that he’s holistic and integrative in his philosophy and practice. So even though he has certain “unorthodox” thoughts (I believe we might all have such thoughts) and ways he still accepts and includes others who think differently and tries to learn from them. In this way, he doesn’t advocate one of the categories of practices over the other; rather, he shows how all types of practices—contemplative (solitary), communal (group), and missional (outreach)—all are intertwined.

By Part III, I was truly drawn in as he takes us into a short story where we meet an abbess and she invites us to stay at a convent while teaching us the the Way. It is broken into three parts: Katharsis (Via Purgativa) in which we try to rid ourselves of all pride and ego and greed and lust and all impurities; Fotosis (Via Illuminativa) in which our now emptied selves can be filled with the light of God as we thirst and hunger for new things through prayer, contemplation, reading, reflection, nature, and seeing the light of God in all our work; and Theosis (Via Unitiva) in which we become infected by God, become more like God, become one in nature with God, and begin to exude the characteristics of God such as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. This was my favorite part of the book.

Much more could be said, but I’ll stop here. McLaren does a great job of setting the stage for the rest of the series. He even opens wide the floor of ancient practices including practices which have no dedicated book in this series. There are contemplative practices like submission, gratitude, meditation, and journaling; communal practices like service gatherings, confession, stillness, listening, and interpretation; missional practices like such as giving, service, hospitality, and working for justice. And many practices fall into multiple categories. The book series focuses only on the 7 ancient practices shared by the 3 Abrahamic faiths, but McLaren’s book doesn’t end there.

No, McLaren invites you to remember not just to practice your faith but to faith your practices. This phrase especially touched me and reminded me that in everything I do, I do it unto the Lord with thankfulness, fusing the secular and the sacred, the physical and the spiritual. How can my walk or drive to work be practice infused with faith? How can answering email be a practice filled by God? I read this book during a season (ancient practice of the liturgical year) of lent in which I started each day (instead of ending each day) in prayer, meditation, stillness, contemplation, journaling, reading, and study. And McLaren’s book not only reminded me to slow down, but gave me a breath of fresh air while doing it. I’m becoming more alive each day and I was thankful for the reminder.

ATHEISM

The Agnostic Who Became An Atheist
by Peter Rollins

There was once a world-renowned philosopher who, from an early age, set himself the task of proving once and for all the nonexistence of God. Of course, such a task was immense, for the various arguments for and against the existence of God had done battle over the ages without either being able to claim victory.

He was, however, a genius without equal, and he possessed a singular vision that drove him to work each day and long into every night in order to understand the intricacies of every debate, every discussion, and ever significant work on the subject.

The philosopher’s project began to earn him respect among his fellow professors when, as a young man, he published the first volume of what would turn out to be a finely honed, painstakingly researched, encyclopedic masterpiece on the subject of God. The first volume of this work argued persuasively that the various ideas of God that had been expressed throughout antiquity were philosophically incoherent and logically flawed. As each new volume appeared, he offered, time and again, devastating critiques of the theological ideas that had been propagated through different periods of history. In his early forties, he completed the last volume, which brought him up to the present day.

However the completion of this work did not satisfy him. He still had not found a convincing argument that would demonstrate once and for all the nonexistence of God. For all he had shown was that all the notions of God up to that time had been problematic.

So he spent another sixteen years researching arguments and interrogating them with a highly nuanced, logical analysis. But by now he was in his late fifties and had slowly begun to despair of ever completing his life project.

Then, late one evening while he was locked away in his study, bent wearily over his old oak desk, surrounded by a vast sea of books, he felt a deep stillness descend upon the room. As he sat there motionless, everything around him seemed to radiate an inexpressible light and warmth. Then, Deep in his heart he heard the voice of God address him:

“Dear friend, the task you have set yourself is a futile one. I have watched all these years as you poured your being into this endless task. Yet, you fail to understand that your project can be brought to completion only with my help. Your dedication and single-mindedness have not gone unnoticed, and they have won my respect. As a result, I will tell you a sacred secret meant only for a few. . . .Dear friend, I do not exist.”

Then, all of a sudden, everything appeared as it was before, and the philosopher was left sitting at his desk with a deep smile breaking across his face. He put his pen away and left his study, never to return. Instead, in gratitude to God for helping him complete his lifelong project, he dedicated his remaining years to serving the poor.



Think of it like this. When someone says “I believe in God,” the next question or a good question to ask is “Which god do you believe in?” As Rollins would say and as we all know, theism refers to a belief in God and atheism is a rejection of this belief. But just as you can ask the theist “What God do you believe in?” you can also ask the atheist “What God do you not believe in?” This is because traditional atheism is specific; it is limited to attacks of specific notions and conceptions of God.

Therefore one form of atheism may attack a specific understanding of God but have nothing to say about another concept of God. Traditional atheism, in such concrete forms, isn’t just limited because there are so many varied concepts of God, today, but also because there are an infinite number of possible conceptions of God yet to be dreamed.

The philosopher in this short story sets out, then, to achieve an infinitely large task--to establish once and for all the non-existence of God. But to do this he must reject every known and possible concept of God. It is not until God steps in, that the philosopher is able to achieve a true universal atheism, one that can reject every possible description of God . . .in advance. Why? God transcends every possible concept and cannot be approached as an object or a thing at all.

But who is the one who points this out? It is God who says God doesn’t exist. This type of universal atheism runs strongly through the Judeo-Christian tradition (whether or not you have seen it in the mainstream forms, on TV, and other visible forms) especially in Biblical form. Approaching God as an object that can be grasped and known runs contrary to the Biblical God (or the growing understanding of God found through the arc of the Bible). This is because that God is above all names, above all labels, above all concepts. He is “received but never conceived.” Instead of understanding God like an object, a possible analogy is found in light. Light is not what we “see” directly in some sense. Light is what enables us to see transforming our experience allowing us the experience of sight. God is similar; God is not directly experienced (yikes people might get upset with me) but the name we give to the transformation of experience, to a whole new way of experience. You don’t experience birth; rather, birth opens you up to a whole new world of experiences. That is how God is.


So what my atheist friends and I were never told is that every description of God falls short, even descriptions we find in good books. With every description falling so inadequately short of God, we are led to a universal atheism. We only do justice to the reality of God by laying claim to the fact that no concept of God does justice.

Therefore religious believers can affirm a radical form of atheism in a true sense while still holding on to the reality of God. Are we questioning the importance of good forms of theism? No, rather we are saying that we never let these incomplete, provisional concepts of God stand as absolute authority (we often do this with incomplete expressions of God in the Bible, even if good expressions). A true understanding of the reality of God welcomes the rejection of incomplete descriptions of God and continues searching for less partial, less incomplete descriptions of God, never giving these newer, better incomplete descriptions of God final or absolute authority. You see this through the Bible and Torah as people’s understanding of God is improved and torn down and recreated through the Bible as we move closer to the person of Christ two thousand years ago.

So in the last answer to my “What do I want” questions, when my friend pitted atheism against theism, I want make sure that we understand that a universal atheism runs strongly in the Judeo-Christian tradition. We’re not just a tradition of priests (people serving under God) but prophets (people who speak out against God). You see this in Jeremiah, Amos, even Jesus, himself. . .

My good friend says she’s an atheist, and I think that means we have a lot in common especially if she’s rejecting the visible forms of religion she sees in the world today. I’m constantly in the minority in D.C. in my sub-circles when my policy and science policy friends find out I’m a Christian. The people they make fun of are often conservatives, people who depreciate science, and Christians--Christians who protest at funerals of victims of homosexual hate crimes, Christians who fight against the teaching of evolution in school, Christians who blame the people of Haiti for the earthquake that befell them (because God is mad), Christians who value life when it deals to abortion but do not fight for life as strongly when it relates to poverty or the global burden of disease or the application of the death penalty. Trust me, some Christians are atheist, too. There is more to say about atheism and what it means within the Judeo-Christian tradition, but perhaps I can talk more about it if you ask me to in a future update.

What I’m reminded of is the decline of the Christian church in North America. I’ll spare you the statistics, but it’s been noticed by priests, lay-people, youth pastors, even missionaries. In fact, I almost expect people who grew up in the church to leave it when the go off to college (university) or later. I expect people who grew up without God to stay as far away from him as possible. I’m often surprised at people like myself who grew up with God and yet, somehow, stayed with God. Why? Because both non-Christians and Christians have become increasingly disturbed by what they have seen embraced by prominent mainstream visible Christianity in North America--wars of choice, being anti-big government as if big is bad but being ok with big military and big business, embrace of growth over environmental conservation and preservation, focus on criminalization of abortion (without working on issues that decrease the need for abortion) but not working to fight for life in issues of the death penalty or poverty or disease especially when it disproportionately targets the poor, etc.

Brian McLaren talks about a great awakening, he calls it a new revolution in Christian understanding, thought, and action that is occurring today. I don’t think it’s as monumental as he describes; when I go to the book store the Christian books still mostly comprise books by authors who are not in this emerging understanding of God. Still, McLaren is right. It’s growing, almost like a mustard plant. There are many names of people and churches and groups around the world who are trying to search for something new, embrace something bigger than the concepts we’ve formerly understood and mystically dance with the divine in a new way. There are more authors and more people coming out to say “I’ve always had these questions” or “I’ve always thought that, but I could never find anyone to talk to or with whom to discuss.”

Brian has a new book called “A New Kind of Christianity.” I like this book because Christianity (what does that mean exactly?) is less about doctrines than it is about questions to me. So when I find a group of people or a faith community that embrace people and allow them to ask questions, even questions that remain unanswered still, I’m excited. I’m energized. I need questions. I need to continually strip down and reclothe myself in better understanding. I’m thankful to those around me who have helped me to do that, who allow me to be angry with God, and who show me that God is bigger than my questions and is not offended by them even though religious people around me are (I’m one of them).

Here are the 10 questions

1. What is the overarching story line of the Bible?
The usual answer to this involves the story that man of us Christians were taught to recount when talking to a non-Christian about Christianity. It involves Adam and Eve and the Fall. Over the years there have been minor tweaks here and there to this narrative but nothing major. But there have been parts of it that have been hard to understand and explain (for many this is ok because they want to worship a God they don’t understand). McLaren talks a bit about how some of the difficult concepts might be from men than directly the Bible or even the understanding of Jesus.

2. How should the Bible be understood?
This deals with the question of how the Bible is viewed. Is it a constitution providing an unquestioning legal framework of how to live. Is it a guidebook telling how we live our lives? I had a friend say this to me last Sunday at church. I reacted and said it’s so much more. I said the Bible was a story a history of a story of a people and how, through time, they have learned and unlearned, struggled and fought with God, questioned and loved God, turned away and hated God. Yes, through it we can learn things about our story and lives, but it is not a rule book and if you reduce it to that you’ve missed the main point of it. Regardless the answer to how you view the Bible depends on your answer to the previous question. This is very important because people often interpret and use the Bible for backup of their position. How do you properly interpret it? Is the Old Testament more important, less, or equally important than the New Testament?

3. Is God violent?
This is related to the narrative question. In the traditional narrative God is viewed as a either justice-seeking or vengeful or punishing or angry or hateful, etc. And this is seen in many Biblical stories. Are we viewing this correctly or is God different? How does this fit with Jesus? The answers to these questions depend on the previous two questions.

4. Who is Jesus and why is He important?
This is very important. Was he God or was he not? Beyond that, was he here to provide salvation to go to Heaven, or is it something more? What did Jesus say himself?

5. What is the Gospel?
What is the gospel? And what does it mean? What is the good news? Is the gospel related to salvation in the future, promising a spot in Heaven or something more? When people in the New Testament heard words like “saved” did it mean the same thing it means to Western Christians today?

6. What do we do about the Church?
How was the church understood when it started? Is it understood the same way? What is its purpose and function in the world? Is it there to help its members or non-members? Is its job to convert people to a new belief?

7. Can we find a way to address human sexuality without fighting about it?
Our sexuality is a mess. We have a problem not only with a battle between many churches and homosexuals but also with teaching children to deal with sexuality healthily. Teenage pregnancies (and even abortions) are rampant. Is there a way to deal with human sexuality that is closer to the heart of God than how we’ve done it? Are we missing something? Is this all of what the Bible and Christianity has to offer?

8. Can we find a better way of viewing the future?
Is the normal linear view of time and the future correct? Are we waiting and awaiting something in the future which dictates that the world will continue to worsen and de-motivates and discourages us? What exactly is supposed to happen in the future? And why isn’t Jesus here, now?

9. How should followers of Jesus relate to people of other religions?
This is a tough one. People of other religions (or no religion) have traditionally had a tough time with Christians because of its claims of exclusivity and the fact of a belief that everyone except Christians is going to Hell. Of course this relates to previous questions. But the real question here is how do we interact and treat and deal with people of other faiths. It hasn’t always gone well in the history of Christianity and we want to do it better.

10. What do we do now? (How do we translate our quest into action?)

JESUS CAMP

I’m on a documentary binge, and I’m watching this documentary “Jesus Camp” which I mentioned last time. And my roommate is freaking out and saying negative things about Christians or those people in the film. And I have a church group coming to my house in 3 days; she’s repeating that they better not be like those people in the film. Ha ha! Don’t you love the tension.

I dated a girl once who introduced me to a friend of hers. This friend knew I was a Christian of sorts and the first thing she asked me was why I was a Christian. “I mean, when I think Christian I think judgmental, hypocritical, and self-righteous.” Man, what do you say to that? Aren’t you glad that the history of this religion of which I’m a part (of sorts) is filled with a tension, so that it’s not just known for the Crusades, witch hunts, slaveries and slave trades, wars, apartheid, Nazi movements, etc. but it’s also known for the abolition of slavery, the abolition of child labor (in many places around the world), St. Francis of Assisi, Jesus (pre-Christianity), liberation theology and Oscar Romero, redistributive principles, etc. That tension is palpable anywhere and everywhere and ever present in the religion of which I’m a part. To deny it is to cut off any chance for real dialogue for you’ve no where to start with someone different than you. Plus it probably means you have specks in your eyes. So daily, I wrestle with God (Israel) as what it means to be a Christian or Christ-follower in a world that feels hated by such and in a world that is loved by such (I won’t talk of proportions).


I have a very beautiful friend named Jeannie living in South Africa. She recently became more beautiful as she has worked to blossom more, care less about what others think of her, be embarrassed less, and just live and love. She asked me once if I was an “evangelical Christian.” The problem with the term is that there are a few meanings especially as you travel around the world, but yes. I know she probably took this to mean that I am trying to proselytize and convert people to a new religion but I didn’t bother explaining or correcting or challenging or conversing about it. I just said yes. The problem is if you try to convert me, I’m pretty resistant. I feel it when I talk with Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses (ok this isn’t true; I LOVE to dialogue with these people that share a similar book with me but originally when I was younger I didn’t look forward to it always). It’s the same way with Christian people trying to convert. I have tons of Pentecostal and charismatic Christian friends who talk about who they have reached hundreds for Christ themselves on the power of their prayer or through the power of reading the Bible or through the power of the Holy Spirit when they speak. I’ve never had that happen to me. In fact, the few people who have “become Christian” didn’t tell me when they decided to do it. For them, it was a gradual process. They told me I was a part of the influence that led them in that direction. And most of them never had deep conversations with me about it (meaning it wasn’t due to my words or some deep intellectual battle). They watched me, they interacted with me, they were loved by me. I guess people talk about the Word of God so much they forget that the Word of God isn’t real or formed until it is performed; otherwise it’s just words. Anyway, actions will speak louder than your words.

What I mean to say is that I’ve never seen people repulsed by Christians who follow Christ, they way I understand his words and teachings. That’s a different thing. People always seem to love those Christians, or people are unnerved by them and unsettled from constant hate or hurt.

EMERGING & EMERGENT & LOVE

I was at church on Sunday preparing for the Sunday School lesson. I was giving a joint talk (we call it tag-team talking where two people take turns speaking, going back and forth) in which I was engaging all the learning modalities and all senses in telling the story of the crucifixion of Jesus. For instance, they could feel the type of rope or chains that held him; the children could see the whip that whipped him and read the sign put above Jesus head being amazed at Greek, Latin, and Hebrew letters and words. They could taste the kinds of grapes that Pilates servants would have fed him (one kid said “This is the best grape I’ve ever eaten in my life!” made me laugh). They could hear the sound of the Chief Priests saying “Death, Death” when Jesus admitted (both explicitly and implicitly) who he was (and believed himself to be) and the sound of the crowds screaming Barabbas. They could smell what it must have smelled at the foot of the cross—blood, urine, feces, sweat. It was an interesting lesson and it captured the attention of those Grade 1-3 scholars (normally 15 minutes is too long to speak to a group of kids but with all that stimuli it was great!).

In the midst of preparing for that, I bumped into the graphics designer of the church (young guy in his 20’s) and the head church administrator who were talking about the “emergent” church and explaining the problem with it from an authority perspective. They said when you meet in a coffee shop and you need to tell one of the “church members” that he shouldn’t be living with this girlfriend there is no proper authority structure set-up to allow for this. The church member can just say to the other person (the person leading the discussions analogous to preaching in a church building) “Hey, you have your church and you do it your way, and I have my church and do it my way.” My church administrator and graphics designer were right (they’re both friends of mine): if you don’t invest authority in a leader than a “leader” cannot tell you what to do or give a directive. But the problem also might exist in a church. It’s still up to the church member to decide whether or not to follow it and continue investing the authority in the leader.

More importantly they were using the wrong label. They are describing emerging churches which are not theologically different than traditional churches; they just use different methods. They are practically different, like meeting in a coffee shop or night club. Emergent churches are the ones, regardless of how they might meet or look, think differently theologically (in their study of God they think differently than traditional churches).

I don’t know what I am. I just live life and enjoy it. Label me how you wish.

But it does remind me of lots of friends who send me e-mailed testimonies or tell me their testimony of how God came, just in the nick of time, and provided them with money. Many times, these people decided to hold out and not rely on family structures or friends for funds because they didn’t want to keep doing that. So in the end, God did something miraculous and money was produced, someone gave them money from their heart, they received a gift, etc.

In my understanding of God, I agree that God can provide money “supernaturally” or someone can give you a timely gift, but I don’t think I would ever neglect my family and friends and how “supernatural” they are. In other words, I think friends and family can be gifts from God. I’m not sure I would ever get to a point where I wouldn’t allow myself to ask and borrow from them. To me, that is “supernatural” provision because God works through people, through others who know him. And having resources available like that is actually a blessing. I counseled a woman recently who had only a few family members left and none would help her. So if you do have family members that would give you money, that’s a blessing. I’ve also seen people on the street here in Cape Town that don’t have ANY family or friends. So when I see this, it’s really difficult for me to discount the blessing of having people that I can go to or turn for money and loans to help me out in my time of need. Far from it going against the hand of God, I think God’s hand is providing for me through them.

There was a church group recorded by a 1st century historian-doctor named Luke. This group (after the death of Chris) practiced redistribution (this concept is also in the Torah; look up the year of Jubilee and what happens every 7th year as well as the 7th 7th year (the 49th year)). So they laid their tithes and offerings at the apostles feet and instead of this money going to buy a bigger building or fancier screens it was redistributed to help all those in need. It’s a beautiful story of how Jesus lived. And we often neglect such things in our reaching and striving for the “seeming supernatural” not recognizing that there are ordinarily supernatural things amongst us all the time.

I went through such a time for over a month. Long story short, the university overpaid me last year, so we made a plan for me to pay back the overage in monthly installments (the bank limits the amount you can electronically transfer to another recipient at another bank or the same bank). What the university or National Research Foundation failed to realize is that the university itself would have a problem registering me this year when this debt hadn’t cleared (the academic year starts in February but my 10 month repayment would be completed much later in May 2009). So when this year started, I was de-registered (this also happened to me last year) and my card would not give me access into buildings anymore. While they were trying to fix this mess, I was not paid. And the UCT administrators took their time because they were not thinking of the fact that I didn’t have money and was waiting on them.

First they had to realize there was a problem, then they said they had to sort out all payments since 2007 and figure out what happened (this didn’t make sense because we did this in Aug/Sept 2007 when we made the 10 month plan). Then they had to send this to another department. Then I had to re-register and refill out all these forms. Then there was a problem with my visa because it had the word “studying” and it is not supposed to say that for postdoctoral researchers because the government charges tax if it does, etc., etc. , etc.

During this time, they never offered me an advance, and my own research lab is not very good at this either. I’m always paid for my lecturing after the fact instead of being paid while lecturing like I was when I was TA’ing (tutoring) for the math department (my supervisor made me stop this).

So during this time I had no money. I had no problem asking people around me for money. I did just that and they gave. And I know it’s a blessing just to have people that I can ask. Not everyone has that. On top of that, I was amazed that people who owed me money paid me back (people I didn’t even remember). Reimbursements due to me were paid back to me (some reimbursements I had forgotten). One friend (from whom I asked to borrow money) gave me 66% more than I asked. One friend (from whom I asked to borrow money) gave it as a gift and not a loan (this is a friend who I try to take care of). Both friends were really sweet. I almost never get taken out for meals. I am usually paying for people. I was unknowingly taken out for meals (they didn’t know my situation) 5 times. It was quite amazing. It’s a nice circle. When you take care of people, people really take care of you, I’ve found. It was an amazing month of redistribution and love. I enjoyed it.

Oh, the university finally paid me last Saturday (3rd of April), but they took out a chunk for late fees. They realize it’s their fault my registration was late, so they will recompense me for those fees, but it will take a week. So fun times. Remember, I was also not paid for over 4 months from Sept 2007 to Jan 2008. When I was paid, I received two semesterly payments within a week. I thought nothing of it, thinking the first was for the end of 2007 and the second was for the first half of 2008. I didn’t know they actually pay me for exactly 6 months, not for semesters. So the first payment was for Sept 07-Feb 08and the second was March – Aug 2008. So they actually were not supposed to pay me the second payment in January (I didn’t know this). So I misappropriated the extra money due to false information. This makes me two months of pay off, thinking the first payment was all for 2007 when my rent was 40% of my monthly salary. So having to pay off 2007, pay my own ticket back to the US with South African money twice [my mom required me to go home for Christmas], purchasing a car, spending more than the price of the car on maintenance and taking care of people, I am living on less than before. In registering me, the university decided to just settle it all and take out the remainder of the repayment from my current 6th month payment. So I have a little more than half (minus the late charges which they will return to me) of what I usually have. Still, I am doing quite well and live comfortably.