Whitewater Faith for the 21st Century (revised)
Our
culture is often likened to whitewater rapids - ever-changing, unpredictable,
dangerous. It would be hard to gainsay the analogy. Experienced rafters know
the key rules for successfully negotiating the whitewater rapids. I suggest these
rules give us some critical guidelines for navigating our cultural/social
rapids. I've tried to translate them into biblical/theological guidelines for just
such a purpose.
The Nature and Purpose of Theology
Theology
is the work of the church that evaluates and directs its journey into and
through the unpredictable and treacherous rapids. According to Karl Barth this
means that theology
-is contextual and conflictual: an instrument of the “ecclesia militans” (Church Militant), theology guides the
Church of a specific time to address and/or contest the needs and hopes of that
time. (Church Dogmatics 1.2, 841)
-is communal and missional: “...theology .
. . can be put to work in all its elements only in the context of the
questioning and answering Christian community and in rigorous service of its
commission to all men.” (The Humanity of
God, 63)
-is scriptural and critical: theology's
role . . . is to invite the church “to
listen again to the Word of God in the revelation to which the Scripture
testifies" (Church Dogmatics
1.2, 798).
-is contested and tempted: After all that
has befallen it, church dogmatics will not become "church" again
i.e., free from the alien dominion of general truths and free for Christian
truth, until it summons up sufficient courage to restore what is specifically
Christian knowledge, that of the Trinity and of Christology, to its place at
the head of its pronouncements, and to regard and treat it as the foundation of
all its other pronouncements. (Church
Dogmatics 1.2, 124).
Learning to see the world and church through the lens of
God’s triune nature and the incarnation of Jesus Christ, existing in and from
the church, for the sake of the world, under the Word of God, and amid all the
temptations and struggles of a world intent on domesticating and defeating it,
theology plies its humble and human task of seriously reflecting on the church’s
presence and practice in the world.
For theology to ever become an abstract, arcane, intellectual
hobby, believed unnecessary and perhaps even deleterious to faith and church
life, is a profound betrayal of this practice and the church!
Rules for Whitewater
Rafting
I believe the following rules for whitewater rafting
suggest the focus we need and focuses the content of the faith we need for
living faithfully in these times. They are:
1.
Rest during the calms because
there is more turbulence coming
2.
When a rock looms ahead, lean into
it not away from it
3.
Whatever else you do, never stop
paddling
4.
Let everything else but your life
jacket go if you fall into the water
I suggest
we can translate these four rules for whitewater rafting into the following directives
for faithful church life and ministry in the 21st century.
1.
“Remember the Sabbath day and keep
it holy” (Ex.20:8).
Keep the Presence always present. Live from the “big
picture” of what God is doing in the world. What he has accomplished for the
world in Jesus Christ. The destiny God intends for himself and his creation.
That which alone is real, true, good, and beautiful. God’s presence with us –
his plan and eternal purpose for us. That for which God bends his every effort
to achieve with every act of his love.
2.
"Take up your cross and
follow me" (Mk.8:34).
God’s way runs counter to very intuition and direction
our hearts and the world teach us to follow. It’s called the “theology of the
cross.” Most of time the church has preferred a “theology of glory,” however. A
theology that glosses the world’s way of triumph and success and models
Christian existence after it. A theology of glory does not lean into an
oncoming rock. God’s way, the way of leaning into that oncoming rock, the way
of the cross as victory, death to life, is very much an acquired taste. One we
today must work extra hard to acquire.
3.
"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing,
give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus
for you" (1 Thess.5:16-18).
Gratitude, “giving thanks in all
circumstances,” is the chief mark of all Christian living. Gratitude refuses to
let the pervasive and ever-present fear of death have the upper hand. The stench
of the latter energizes and infects all our individual and cultural efforts to
achieve significance and security no matter how grand, successful, and
wonderful those achievements may be. The particular character of Christian
gratitude distinguishes it from competitors and cultural surrogates.
4.
"There is salvation in no one
else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we
must be saved” (Acts 4:12)
Whoever finds salvation and wherever they find it owe
it ultimately to Jesus Christ. He alone is the one who saves and who saves
whomever he wills. He is the one in whom God is gathering up all things and
beings in creation (Eph.1:10) – the Omega Point as he has been called. The uniqueness
and finality of Jesus Christ is the key to what God is doing in and with our
world, the good news of God for everyone!
The
guidance these rules for negotiating the social and political rapids of life
today in North America amount to this, I believe. They give us
-a place
to stand (sabbath),
-a way to
act (theology of the cross),
-a way to
be (gratitude), and
-“the
right man on our side” (Luther; Christ)
Sabbath,
cross, gratitude, and Christ, then, offer four points of entry to the
whitewater rapids of life today. David Bentley Hart argues that “In the most
unadorned terms possible, the ethos of modernity is—to be perfectly
precise—nihilism” (Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable
Enemies [Yale University Press, 2009], 20-21). People may and do believe all sorts of things
today but at bottom, according to Hart, they rest on “nothing” (nihil, Latin) more
than our individual choice or preference. A modernity and post-modernity built
on this nothing (and post-modernity was honest about this than modernity ever
was) faces a yawning abyss of meaninglessness which cannot forever be papered
over with the nihil.
Jesus
Christ is the Logos of God, the
“word” or “meaning” of God, inscribed in creation itself by his creative labor
(Col.1:15-17) and ruling over creation as its Lord and Ruler in redemption. Christian
faith, the church, theology, cannot but be about meaning-making. The waves of
our whitewater rapids tossing us to and fro seek to submerge us into its nihil. This where the struggle must be
joined. In all the ways noted above theology must play its vital and
irreplaceable role in equipping the church to be what God intends it to be.
As
we will see, though, this requires a theology reoriented to a church revisioned
in a world reconsidered to serve a Christ long-unknown to us.
(Part 1)
The World in Which Theology Works
Theology
addresses the drives, dreams, dynamics, and dysfunctions of human life but it
does so in a shape bequeathed to them by a particular place and time. It cannot
speak about sin, grace, hope, salvation, justice and the like generically. It
must do so in inflections derived from the specific shape and location of those
drives, dreams, dynamics, and dysfunctions.
My
argument is that we live in world of spiritual powers created by God for good
but which have rebelled against God and hold creation in a death grip. Death is
the chief of these powers. Satan’s powerful right hand (Heb.2:14). These powers
keep creature and creation bound to futility and forever seeking their security
and significance in the wrong places and against one another. In America the
lethal roux (Baxter Kruger) that keeps our cultural rapids boiling and roiling
I call an I.C.E. Age – Individualism,
Consumerism, and Experientialism. Let’s see how this works out.
Principalities and Powers
The Apostle Paul
speaks of realities like our I.C.E. Age in the idiom of his time and culture.
In that world a multitude of spiritual forces inhabited the cosmos besides God
and humanity. Evil figures such as the devil, fallen angels, and good figures
such as faithful angels we are familiar with (even if we don’t quite know what
to make of them). But other figures exist as well that we are not so familiar
with. Among these are a group of beings Paul calls “the rulers, against the
authorities, against the cosmic powers
of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly
places” (Eph.6:12). Often called simply “the principalities and powers,” they
are key to understanding the work of Christ and the church.
Walter Wink
argues that New Testament’s language about “principalities and powers” (and other
terms for the same ideas) refer to the realities of all human social dynamics –
our institutions, belief systems, traditions, and the like. Each and all
of them have what he calls an inner and outer aspect. “Every Power tends
to have a visible pole, an outer form – be it a church, a nation, and economy –
and an invisible pole, an inner spirit or driving force that animates,
legitimates, and regulates its physical manifestation in the world.
Neither pole is the cause of the other. Both come into existence together
and cease to exist together” (Naming the Powers, 5).
The key insight
about these realities is that they
-are part of God’s good
creation which provide the conditions of human social existence needed to make
and keep human life human
-are fallen with the
rest of creation and attempt to seize God’s place and twist God’s purposes for creation’s
well-being, and
-are also an object of
God’s redemptive intent as he seeks to heal and restore his creation to its
creational purposes.
Wink writes:
“To put the thesis of
these three volumes in its simplest form: The Powers are good. The Powers
are fallen. The Powers must be redeemed. These three statements
must be held together, for each, by itself, is not only untrue but downright
mischievous. We cannot affirm governments or universities or businesses
to be good unless at the same time we recognize that they are fallen. We
cannot face their malignant intractability and oppressiveness unless we
remember that they are simultaneously a part of God’s good creation. And
reflection on their creation and fall will appear only to legitimate these
Powers and blast hope for change unless we assert at the same time that these
Powers can and must be redeemed” (Engaging the Powers, 10).
What drives
these powers and gives them hold over us is the fear of death. In the beginning of his book Instead of Death William Stringfellow
writes,
“(This book) consists of
some essays about the specific reality of death in contemporary life: about the
vitality of the presence and power of death over human existence and, indeed,
over the whole creation. The suggestion here is that the power of death can be
identified in American society--as well as elsewhere for that matter--as that
which appears to be the decisive, reigning, ultimate power. Therefore, for an
individual's own little life--yours or mine or anybody's--death is the reality
that has the most immediate, personal. everyday significance. In this life, it
seems as if everyone and everything find meaning, when we really come down to
it, in death.”
Bill Wylie-Kellerman adds that for Stringfellow
"Death, with a capital D, is itself,
for Stringfellow, a living moral reality. He draws intuitively on St. Paul, for
whom death (along with law and sin) is in a matrix of enslaved existence.
Stringfellow sees it as the power behind the powers. Death is a kind of synonym
for the spirituality of idolatry, domination, and empire ... He regarded
death as a moral power within the nation and thereby as its 'social purpose.'
... He named the nation-state as the 'pre-eminent principality.'” (William Stringfellow: The Essential
Writings [Orbis, 2013], introduction)
Given over to
death in their rebellion against God the powers become death-dealing rather
life-giving. Driven by our legitimate need for
security and significance, we seek them within the ambit of the powers. And
thus become both victims and perpetrators of death. We serve the powers because
they seem to assuage our fears and anxieties about security and significance.
Serving them gives us a sense of freedom even from the power of death.
But
they play us false. Beholden to the power of death themselves, the powers offer
only bogus hope. Instead, our own personal fears about significance and
security become wound around the institutional and organizational fears of the
powers whose goal is to survive. When this happens we are sorely tempted to
cede or personal integrity to secure the well-being of the institution.
And
that, that is idolatry.
In two
places in Ephesians (his letter about the “big picture” of what God is doing in
the world) Paul identifies these “principalities and powers” as the objects of
the church’s ministry. In 3:10-11 he writes,
“so
that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made
known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. This
was in accordance with the eternal purpose that he has carried out in Christ
Jesus our Lord.”
It is the church’s mission as a transnational, multiethnic,
reconciled and reconciling community that serves notice to the powers that
their reign is over, that Christ has routed them on the cross (Col.2:15) and
restored them to their original good purposes (Col.1:20).
In Eph.6:12 we learn that it is precisely these powers against
whom we struggle.
“For our struggle
is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the
authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the
spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”
Human beings, even those willingly serving the powers malignant
and perverse purposes, are not those against we conduct our “struggle,” our
subversive, counter-revolutionary activity on God’s behalf. Those who side with
the powers need freedom and healing as much as those they have helped victimize
(albeit in different ways). Richard Beck illustrates:
“Think of
it this way. Slavery in America was a fallen power structure. It was a demonic
power supported by church and state, written into our founding political
documents. Thus the real fight against slavery was to be waged in this
"heavenly realm," against the thing--slavery--that
"possessed" us. The fight wasn't against the slave owner. We are not
to demonize the human being caught up in evil. Rather, we are to liberate both slave and slave owner from the
demonic possession. Our fight is not against flesh and blood but against the powers” (Richard Beck, “Notes on Demons &
The Powers: Part 5, The Angels of the Nations,” http://experimentaltheology.blogspot.com/2009/11/notes-on-demons-powers-part-5-angels-of.html).
We will return in some detail to both of these matters through
this study.
Individualism,
consumerism, and experientialism are the foci around which most American tell
their stories. Individualism reflects
our desire to live independently, avoiding community (though many of us think it is a good idea), accountability, and
liability for one another. We want to make our own way and life in this world
unencumbered by the constraints of tradition, commitments, and relationships.
As my three-year-old grandson says: “I can do it by myself!” We hope to be
self-made people. And self-made people always worship their makers!
“Freedom” has
become devalued in the West, diluted to mean only freedom “from” - freedom from
any non-legal constraints on our desires and decisions. This kind of freedom
creates inherent conflict with commitments, accountability, roots, traditions, community,
or relationships. This is a kind of “naked’ freedom, the sheer capacity to
chose.
Consumerism has so fully and
successfully snagged most of us in this part of the world that it is, in
effect, our default religion. This pseudo-Gospel offers a creed (“I shop
therefore I am”), a mission (“Whoever dies with the most toys wins!”), a set of
“spiritual” practices (the actual processes of acquiring and consuming), a
cathedral (the shopping mall), and a vision of the “end” (a life in which
acquisition and consumption have filled all our needs and wants, erased worry from
our minds, and set our lives in a land flowing with cash and comforts). Our way
of life starring ourselves as consumers is evident to all, easy to criticize,
and seemingly impossible to escape. When those outside (or sometimes even
inside!) the church claim that Christians do not live any differently than
non-churched people do, I suspect it is our consumeristic ways of life they
have in mind. Our priorities, patterns, and practices of consumption do not
differ from theirs in any significant ways.
Consumerism as a
way of life operates on the principle that consuming constitutes our identity,
our reality, and that our perceived “needs” take precedence over everything
else. Thus, the slogan, “I shop therefore I am.” This has the individual “I” at
the center. This “I” is active in establishing its own existence. And that
activity is acquisition and consumption, a centripetal movement. Whoever or
whatever sits at the center of our world, is our “ultimate concern” as
theologian Paul Tillich famously put it, that without which we cannot conceive
of being truly happy, or “God.”
Experientialism is the last element of
our new I.C.E. Age. We thirst for a never-ending series of experiences that
shuffle and re-shuffle our emotions, sending them to their boundaries and
beyond in search of a life well-lived. I call this the “Cat in Hat” syndrome.
You remember Dr. Seuss’ famous children’s story, don’t you? Two children sit at
home on a wet rainy day with nothing to do while their parents are at work.
Then the Cat in the Hat appears with all sorts of different and amazing
spectacles that keep pushing the entertainment envelope and leave a swath of
destruction in its wake. A cardinal sin in our I.C.E. Age is having nothing to
do, which easily and quickly morphs into boredom. And boredom is never to be
tolerated! And the explosion of new media technologies beat back every
threat of time with nothing to do.
Affluence
creates mobility which leaves fewer experiences or spectacles out of reach for
many of us. And accumulating such experiences is now touted as the way to the
good life. “Spend ever less of your time and money on stuff, and
ever more on experiences instead,” advises James Wallman, advocate for what he
calls the “experience revolution” (“Spend Less on Stuff, More on Experiences,” The Guardian, https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/feb/27/spend-less-on-stuff-experiences-materialism-experientialism). Mobility decreases the importance
and significance of locality, friendships, and commitment as we believe we can
find satisfying experiences with interesting people wherever we want. Each of
these experiences, however, raises our threshold of satisfaction, creating a
need not only for another experience but a better, greater, more spectacular
experience. And on it goes. Such a way of living, centered upon our search for
“life” by experiencing as wide an array of spectacles and wonders as possible, results
in living “a mile wide and an inch deep.”
This seems to be
the default mode of life in our time - breadth without depth, always deferring
the question of meaning through an ironic search for the next great
entertainment. This restless and relentless quest for the next and the new
fuels a situation in which, if we are not “amusing ourselves to
death,” we are condemning ourselves to life without depth, without roots
which ground us in place and relationships.
Each of these
three I.C.E. Age features are centered on or have us at the center of life.
Until we get the issue of who runs our lives sorted out, none of the rest
of that matters anyway. And a theology worthy of the name will continually face
us with this reality in every way possible.
Summary
The world we live in, then, is driven by ideologies, isms,
institutions, systems, and the like which, though created to do the work of
establishing and maintaining conditions for the flourishing of human life, have
betrayed that mandate and sought to wrest for control of creation for
themselves and their (cross) purposes. Driven by a fear of death both these
powers and human beings collude in trying to satisfy their desire for security
and significance in each other. The debris of this collusion is everywhere
evident within and around us.
Christ has defeated these unruly powers at the cross and begun the
process of pacifying and restoring them to their created purpose. The church is
the chief agent God uses in this pacification work (the church’s subversive,
counter-revolutionary service). Its existence, and way of life as a people who
can live free of the powers determined efforts to maintain their illicit power
over us as well as begin to develop patterns and practices of new life that
point to the kingdom of God which is coming and is our destiny.
Both the perpetrators and victims of the power’s malign rule are
enslaved to them and need liberation, healing, and reconciliation. In our age,
our I.C.E. Age, the chief manifestations of the powers’ rule we face in
America, individualism, consumerism, and experientialism form the witch’s brew
of confusion, corruption, conflict, and conceit that bedevil us. It is this
cluster of forces we must seek to subvert and provide alternatives to. This is,
according to Paul (Jesus too with his Kingdom of God movement), our vocation as
God’s people, following God in his work to reclaim and restore creatures and
creation for his good purposes.
And because these powers have both an inner and an outer reality,
“spiritual” means embodied, not something inward, inner, immaterial or the
like. Within us, among us, and around us the struggle we undertake will be
intimate, social, and cosmic, often at the same time.
This is our world. The world God loves and has acted in Christ to
save. The world his people do battle in against the powers of deformation and
destruction in the power of his saving victory over said powers. Defeated but
not yet banished, these powers continue to resist Christ’s will and push their
I.C.E. Age agenda. Herein lies the crux of our calling.
We can picture all this this way:
Death
Principalities
& Powers
Individualism Consumerism Experientialism
Overview
As I spell out this Whitewater faith for the 21st
century we will look first at the power and fear of death using the work of
Arthur C. McGill, William Stringfellow, and Jacques Ellul (ch.2). Then we will
take up each of our four rules for negotiating the social, cultural, political,
economic, and religious rapids of our day.
-Rule 1: A Place to Stand (Sabbath; ch.3)
-Rule 2: A Way to Act (A Theology of the Cross; ch.4)
-Rule 3: A Way to Be (Gratitude; ch.5)
-Rule 4: “The Right Man on our Side” (Christ; ch.6)
This whole enterprise is an exercise of faith. And by faith I mean
what Dietrich Bonhoeffer expressed in his outline for a book about the post-war
church he never lived to write: “What do we really believe? I mean, believe in
such a way that our lives depend on it?” (Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Letters and Papers from Prison: DBW 8
(Kindle Locations 14344-14345). Augsburg Fortress. Kindle Edition). Matthew Bates has recently argued that faith in the New Testament
fundamentally means “loyalty” or “allegiance” (Salvation by Allegiance Alone:
Rethinking Faith, Works, and the Gospel of Jesus the King [Baker Academic, 2017]). Like
Puddleglum in C. S. Lewis’ Narnia story The
Silver Chair, who in the presence of the enchantments and wrath of the evil
witch of the underworld, maintains his allegiance to Aslan in a memorable
confrontation.
"’One word,
Ma'am,’ he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. ‘One
word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who
always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I
won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even
so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and
grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I
can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more
important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is
the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny
thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if
you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a playworld which licks
your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on
Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as
like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly
for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're
leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives
looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but
that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say’" (The Chronicles
of Narnia [HarperCollinsPublishers, 2001]), 633).
Austrian social philosopher Ivan Illich puts it this way:
“Neither
revolution nor reformation can ultimately change a society, rather you must
tell a new powerful tale, one so persuasive that it sweeps away the old myths
and becomes the preferred story, one so inclusive that it gathers all the bits
of our past and our present into a coherent whole, one that even shines some
light into the future so that we can take the next step…if you want to change a
society then you have to tell an alternative story” (cited
at https://donstephens.org/2007/11/12/an-alternative-story/).
Faith
is living from such an “alternative story” and living it out in our world. A
life that bears consistent and cogent testimony to the story we embrace as the
truth.
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