I Want to Be in that Number

I’ve made some assertions lately, that in every age of history God will have a people to give witness to God’s design and purposes for creation.  There have been times in human history when that body of people has been numerous, and other times, witnessed in scripture, when there have been fewer - a righteous remnant - a missional outpost of the kingdom of God.  I have also described the transition Christianity seems to be experiencing this century, in which traditional embodiments of the faith seem to be waning while new expressions are forming.  I have tried to avoid making judgments about these new expressions, but it stands to reason that some are more faithful than others in embodying the essence of the gospel - the good news of Jesus Christ and his kingdom.  If so, which of these expressions of Christian community are the “righteous remnant”?  

This is a question history has answered with its 20/20 hindsight.  There has been a tug-of-war between true belief and heresy.  Many heresies which have been cast on the waste piles of Christian history - heresies that at one time seemed like valid expressions of faith - Gnosticism,  Arianism, Marcionism, Docetism, Donatism - and the list goes on.

In more recent history, the church has been less prone to brand “heresies” but there are certainly irregular and flawed expressions of Christianity in modern times.  To name a few:  

Darbyism, with its dispensationalist sensationalism. 

Nazi Germany’s coopting of Christianity as a facade for its horrors. 

The Prosperity Gospel’s “name it, claim it,” theology.

The appropriation of Christian language and symbols by white supremicists.

The profiteering of TV evangelists.

I could name more examples but the question remains, how do we recognize the righteous remnant?  How easy it is to fall into the self-deluding belief that we are among the righteous, when more often than not we are actually being self-righteous. How pleasing it is to think, “I am among the few who are right!”  Even when we could not be more wrong!

And while I may be as guilty as anyone in assuming that my opinions are the right ones, the history of orthodoxy leads us not to absolutes but to certain consensual conclusions.  While there are sects and tangential religious movements, some of which have offered helpful, and even needful, lessons for the Church, there  is a core of beliefs and a witness of practices which, over time, have offered a foundation upon which any expression of Christian faith may be judged.  We call that orthodoxy (“straight teaching”).

However, I prefer to focus on orthopraxy (“straight practice”) - instead of being overly concerned with right belief, should we not be looking at right, or fitting, actions?  While Protestantism has been built on “salvation by faith,” perhaps we should not discount the importance of “works.”  John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, insisted that Christianity was based on faith manifested by works.  Our practice of faith, and not simply our creedal beliefs, reveal who we are as Christians.  I am known as a Christian, not only by what I profess, but also by what I do, perhaps principally so.  Jesus, as Savior, calls me to be a disciple, which means “follower.”  Following is an action.  Jesus, as Lord, calls me to obey.  Obeying is an action.  Orthopraxy is as valid a measure of Christian faith as is orthodoxy.  Both are important, together.    

Are there beliefs and practices which are marks of authentic Christianity?  As Christianity evolves into different expressions, is it unfair of us to ask which of these expressions is most authentic - most Christlike in word and deed (orthodoxy and orthopraxy)?  In the end, all that really matters is Christlikeness.  I want to be considering what that Christlikeness looks like in the coming weeks, and what a community looks like which practices such Christlikeness.  I want to be a part of that kind of community - that righteous remnant.  I want to be in that number.  

Jubilee

“Do not take advantage of one another, but fear your God.  I am the Lord your God.”  (Leviticus 25:17)

You have probably read about the man who hoarded over 17,000 bottles of hand sanitizer in anticipation of heightened demand at the onset of the coronavirus.  When Amazon halted his attempt to sell bottles at elevated prices he was left wondering what to do with not only sanitizers but also other items he had purchased in bulk in anticipation of high demand.  He gave no indication that he felt sorry for his attempts to gouge buyers for the products he had purchased.  Aside from the fact that what he did at the micro-economic level is multiplied by others at the macro-level (futures investors, short sellers, hedge fund managers, etc.), I am left wondering how he can live with such an empty sense of conscience.

Admittedly, I have a hyper-developed sense of guilt which I have spent a lifetime trying to overcome.  Gratefully, I have made great strides in overcoming childhood shame and the neurotic guilt which can be so debilitating.  Still, there is a role for a healthy sense of guilt.  While there are many things I no longer feel guilty about, there are some things about which one should feel guilty - both sins of omission and commission -   hoarding much needed health supplies and squeezing unethical profits from them being but one example.  

The verse from Leviticus with which I open this blog encourages us not to take advantage of one another - a fitting instruction for Christian people, indeed, for anyone.  Like the Golden Rule, even non-Christians seem ready to see the good of this advice.  And in the present crisis of the coronavirus contagion, not taking advantage of one another - doing unto others as we would have them do unto us - seems like the better way forward.

The verse from Leviticus Chapter 25 is located in a body of instruction on the Year of Jubilee, a kind of super sabbath to be observed every fifty years.  The intent of the Jubilee year was to provide a great economic equalizer across society so that everyone could start afresh - wiping the slate clean so that people could have a new start.  Debts would be cancelled.  Slaves set free.  Property would be returned to ancestral owners.  The intent of Jubilee was justice, giving everyone a fair shake.  

Consider what might happen in semi-nomadic, agricultural society like that of ancient Israel.  In some places, some years, the crops do poorly.  The land owner has to borrow money, or perhaps sell some land, in order to make ends meet.  And if the misfortune continues, that land owner may have to sell everything, becoming an indentured servant, or slave, in order to provide for his family.  While this may seem an unlikely scenario, it does illustrate what can happen over the course of generations, especially if people “take advantage” of one another.

The present health crisis is creating an economic crisis as well.  Millions of workers are losing jobs.  Many small businesses will fail.  But some niche businesses will thrive.  Some corporations will lose millions while others will flourish.  Even now there are companies ready to hire thousands of workers.  The coronavirus is creating an unprecedented shift in our economy.  Many will suffer.  Many will thrive.  And I wonder if the Year of Jubilee can offer a model for how we might handle the sudden changes in our economy.

Can debts be forgiven?  What does it mean in the coming days for “slaves to be set free”?  After the dust settles, will there be an opportunity for people to make a fresh start, unencumbered by their losses?  What will it mean in the next years for us to “not take advantage of one another”?  What will justice look like?  

What if everyone started over again from scratch?  

I don’t see that happening, of course, but the Year of Jubilee is a good corrective on the view of capitalism that believes “win at all costs” is the only thing that matters.  Now is the time for a more humane approach, a more just solution to the human suffering that is now taking place for millions of people.  The Year of Jubilee reminds hand sanitizer hoarders not to engage in price gouging.  The Year of Jubilee judges Wall Street financiers who profit from national disasters.  The Year of Jubilee creates a society of people who will not take advantage of one another.  May we soon have reason to celebrate the end of the spread of the coronavirus so that we might shout, “Hallelujah!”  And as we deal with the long-term economic consequences of the outbreak of COVID-19 may we have reason to shout, “Jubilee!”   

How Do People Act During a Pandemic?

Her shopping cart was filled to overflowing as she eyed the shelves down the aisle of the Harris-Teeter.  The store itself was jammed with anxious customers responding to the first warnings that a pandemic was possibly in the early stages of spreading.  Already the packages of toilet paper had been wiped out and harried shoppers were deliberating wildly on what supplies they would need for the long haul.  Her gaze fell on the microwave popcorn and, as if her family’s survival depended on a three month supply, she swept all the boxes on the shelf into her burgeoning cart and made her satisfied way to the checkout line.

Have people gone nuts?  When the weather forecasts snow, sleet, or ice, the rule is you stock up on bread and milk - a well-documented fact.  Apparently when there is a threat of pandemic, the necessities are popcorn and toilet paper.  Who woulda thunk it?  

If there ever was any doubt that human beings are not rational, the current health crisis proves the point.  People are reacting emotionally with little attention to reason.  The media, health professionals, and government officials keeps alerting the public to pay attention to facts, not fear, but facts no longer seem to matter in the 21st Century.  Maybe it has always been true, that what we feel in our gut always overrules what we think in our head.

Truly, the present crisis has no precedent in recent history.  There are lessons to be drawn, however, from the deadliest pandemic in history - the influenza outbreak of 1918.  John Barry, a historian writing in the New York Times, describes how containment of the virus has already failed, as it did in 1918.  The challenge now is to comply with best practices - measures taken to suppress the spread.  Barry points to the failure of compliance as a leading cause for the number of deaths in 1918.  History teaches us that people are often quick to comply with best practices at the beginning of an outbreak, but that compliance diminishes quickly.  Washing hands, wearing masks, keeping our distance, are not practices for the short-term, but will be necessary for months if we are to be successful in halting the spread of the coronavirus.  There are pandemic deniers who will, of course, resist the call to comply with best practices.  We can only appeal to their desire for the public good assuming they can see past their selfishness.

Another lesson from 1918 provides us a different challenge.  How will we care for one another?  As a Christian, this question takes on great importance for me.  In 1918 there were numerous cases of people, self-quarantined, who starved to death because of the failure of society to care for one another.  David Brooks, conservative columnist, describes the societal shame that resulted  from that lack of caring following the pandemic a century ago.  How may we avoid that shame in this new crisis?

I can understand the desire of someone, like our Harris-Teeter shopper above, to do whatever they can imagine to protect and provide for her family.  However, how may we expand on that urge to care so that we reach out to the wider community?  I have a friend who reminded me years ago that until we care for children (and people) beyond our own flesh and blood we will continue to fall short of the kingdom ideals that Jesus proclaimed.  When the disciples wanted assurance that they were included in the flock of Jesus’ care, he reminded them that he had “other sheep” to gather into his fold (John 10:16).  

So, I would add one additional best practice - caring for one another.  This will be a challenge during dystopian times, of course.  After all, how does one practice social distancing while caring for each other?  But just because the practice may be difficult does not mean it is impossible.  In every community there will be opportunities to show care - 

for the poor

for health care workers

for those who provide essential services

for grocery store employees

for the elderly, living alone

We must not allow social distancing to lead to social alienation and neglect.  I would encourage everyone in every community to reach out to social service agencies to discover ways in which care for others might be expressed.  Or, call an older adult to make sure they’re okay.  Call a single mother to see if she needs groceries.  Love thy neighbor.  As Jesus also said, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. . .” (John 13:35)  These are going to be difficult days.  May they be days we are able to remember without shame.   

The Emerging Christian Landscape

Phyllis Tickle’s The Great Emergence suggests we are in the midst of a global transition in the culture of Christianity, a transition that may last a century or more.  What will emerge as the predominant form has yet to be seen.  Tickle would agree with my simple faith statement that no matter what shape Christianity takes, God will have a people, even if only a remnant.

There will remain vestiges of what has been.  Roman Catholicism, with its fierce resistance to change, will continue to appeal to some.  Eastern Orthodoxy and its mystical liturgy has shown a stubborn ability to survive.  Protestant denominationalism will continue to be manifested in a multiplicity of ways, but perhaps reduced of much institutional baggage.  These major historical religious movements will each make accommodations in order to survive, but something new will emerge to enliven the church, and what that emergence will look like is still a question.

Perhaps there will not be one dominant form and, like Protestantism, there will be a variety of Christian communities.  The possibilities are many.  We can already observe many examples of movements that have arisen in this generation which are dramatically different from what we might call traditional Christian institutions.  

I have previously mentioned the emergence of a “new monasticism,” in which small groups of like-minded individuals and families covenant to live in proximity to each other, often in under-served neighborhoods, whether rural or urban, in order to be a Christian witness of discipleship and service within those communities.  Shane Claiborne, leader of The Simple Way community in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, is a nationally known leader in this movement.  I suspect that persons who are attracted to this way of Christian living will be a minority, but that new monasticism will play an important role as a remnant in providing an alternative vision of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus, even as old order monasticism did the same a millennium ago.  

One cannot fail to recognize the emergence of mega-churches in the last several decades, churches which are independent of denominations, becoming kingdoms unto themselves.  Drawing thousands of followers, often centered on the charismatic personality of one leader, these churches often have a “mother” church that gives birth to several satellites, served either by assistant pastor-preachers who share the leader’s theological DNA, or the satellite locations beam in the leader’s teachings by way of live-broadcast video signal.  I have found it hard to categorize the theological inclination of these churches.  While they all seem to arise from Protestant roots, their ethos seems more centered in a cult of personality than in theological convictions.  Elevation Church, led by Steven Furtick, whose home-base is Charlotte, North Carolina is but one example.

And one cannot discount the impact of global Christian movements.  

* The emergence of Christian base communities in Latin America which began in the later part of the 20th Century among Catholic-leaning poor people.

* The Taize community in France which has given rise to a renewed spirituality among tens of thousands of young adults who regularly make pilgrimage to Taize. 

* The rapid growth of the church among African nations may result in the most dominant form of Christianity over the next five hundred years.  We have yet to determine what that impact might be.

Bob Dylan once sang, "The times, they are a changin'." As we live in this time of transition we may feel some anxiety about what is yet to come, as well as grief over what is being lost.  However, we should take heart that there is considerable spiritual ferment in the works.  Something new is taking shape.  Christianity is reforming once again.  In the midst of a troubled world, God will have a people who will continue to witness to Jesus Christ and the kingdom he proclaimed until that day when God’s ultimate purpose is fulfilled.  And, when the saints go marching in, I want to be in that number.

   

The Great Emergence

Phyllis Tickle wrote an informative book some years ago entitled, “The Great Emergence,” in which she indicates that society at large is going through a seismic shift in ethos, a shift which she posits has taken place every 500 years or so and which, inextricably, includes a shift in religion. (For a brief interview of her thoughts.)

Going backward in Christian history, Tickle labels the Protestant Reformation (1500’s), the Great Schism (1000’s), the Decline and Fall (500’s), the Great Transformation (0’s), as indicators of the kind of socio-religious shifts that have taken place even further back in history, and which we, in the present time, are going through.  Each period lasts roughly a century as old patterns take on new forms, and new patterns emerge.  Tickle’s theory provides at least a way of understanding what might be happening now.  

Protestantism was the result of the last great shake-up and, Tickle argues, it will necessarily remain but with a reshaped identity, even as dramatically new expressions of Christianity are born.  Meanwhile, in the midst of these 100 years of change, we are hard-pressed to predict the resultant form of Christianity.  But, as I have said in my previous blogs, God will have a people.  And just as the Catholic Church did not cease to exist after the Protestant Reformation, neither will the Protestant Church disappear as a result of this new period of emergence.  Tickle identifies at least a dozen new expressions of Christian life that are arising, even as denominations are necessarily adapting to the changing landscape. 

Tickle makes the interesting suggestion that those over sixty years of age, and those under forty, are most able to live into whatever form of Christianity is emerging, while those in between have greater need, or investment in, the institutions of denominationalism.  While I’m not sure I agree, I confess at the age of sixty-three that I am open to new expressions of faith as I have grown frustrated by the inflexibility of institutional religion.  For too long (500 years?), the church has invested too much in real estate and not enough in mission.  For too long, the church has thereby grown to be hierarchical when where we need to grow is horizontal.  For too long (and I am a product of this), the church has been weighted toward clerical authority rather than lay empowerment.  The next emergence will certainly reflect new priorities and ways of creating community.

Whatever “emerges” will still be flawed, as any human endeavor is, but will hopefully breathe new life into the witness of God in the world.  There is an anti-institutional flavor to this Great Emergence, but in time it, too, will bear institutional encumbrances.  Protestantism has become weighed down by its structures, but as it reforms (and using Tickle’s words, “trims, trims, trims”) in this time of emergence, perhaps it can offer wisdom so that whatever new Christianity emerges will not repeat the same mistakes Protestants have made.  God will have a people, and I want to be a part of that emerging community, even as I hold on to the remnants of what is best in my own tradition.  Perhaps John Wesley’s emphasis on the grace of God and missional engagement with a hurting world can continue to provide helpful counsel for the Great Emergence.

    

Remnant Theology

The Bible’s remnant theology is a way of explaining what God is doing in the midst of catastrophic circumstances.  When the historical people of God experienced the destruction of their homeland the prophets assured the faithful that even if they had suffered defeat and their population had dwindled, they could trust that God would continue to guide and bless the few that remained.  

Another purpose of remnant theology is to purify the people of God and to remind them that God’s ultimate will may be accomplished regardless of human ideas of success.  The story of Noah is but one example of God’s willingness to use a remnant to restore God’s purposes.

As I look at the religious landscape of the United States I hesitate to describe it as a catastrophe.  In many ways there is still great vibrancy in the Christian church in America.  We have not experienced the tremendous decline of the church that has taken place in Europe where remnant theology is certainly both encouraging and necessary.  However, my observation of Christianity in America leads me to conclude that we are in a crisis of sorts - we may need the purification that remnant theology   brings as well as a reminder that our success as God’s people is not dependent on our human methodology and striving.

I am suggesting that in large part the church in the U.S. has lost its way,  and the ways we are lost are manifold.  For instance, we have adopted the characteristics of consumerism as the church’s measure of faithfulness, rather than applying the principles of the gospel to redeem and temper capitalism.  We have bought into models of business success as templates for church fruitfulness.  We have embraced technology as the vehicle for gospel proclamation without adequate consideration of whether the means actually leads to the end God would desire.  Some of us have become so weighted down by formal institutionalism that we have lost our missional flexibility.  And some of us have been straining at gnats while neglecting the weightier matters of the law.  I could give specific examples to support each of these statements, and I may do that in subsequent articles, however, my purpose here is simply to sound an alarm.

But even in alarm, I want to assure my few readers (A remnant, indeed!) that all is not lost.  There is hope.  After all, at the heart of remnant theology is the insistence that God is not done with the whole human experiment.  As I have said previously, God will have a people.  And in such a time as this we should be on the lookout for the redemptive work of God that may be taking place in unexpected and unsuspected ways.  The church in the U.S., and even around the world is in flux.  There is more to be said about this, but it just may be that God is doing a new thing in the world in order to purify us, to address our sense of desolation (if not catastrophe), and that what God is doing is not dependent on human strategies and plans.  

One example, in recent years there has emerged what some call “the new monasticism.”  This movement is not monolithic in nature for it is being manifested in numerous forms.  But one common feature is a call to community, sometimes associated with an established church but often not, in which persons voluntarily join with others for the sake of mission and discipleship, often locating themselves in and among some of the poorest neighborhoods in both urban and rural settings.  What it means to be a Christian in these new monastic communities is demonstrably different from what the church has been for a few hundred years in the U.S.  Could it be that these new monastics are an example of the remnant God is using to redeem the present age?  Let’s explore some more!   

God Will Have a People

Last year Mary Jo’s closed.  For decades this local warehouse of fabrics and sewing accessories was a regional destination for those inclined toward needle and thread crafting.  You could find just about any kind of fabric there, in bolts, or simply remnants.  There is now no “remnant” left.  It has been replaced by a mall of modern shops.

The Bible has many examples of what has been called remnant theology.  A remnant is defined most often as a body of people who are left after a catastrophe, such as the people left in Judah after the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 BC.  The prophet Isaiah (37:31-32) makes the case:

The surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward, and bear fruit upward; for from Jerusalem a remnant shall go out, and from Mount Zion a band of survivors.  The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

Sometimes scripture describes a remnant as those who are left after God has winnowed the people in order to prove a point:  Gideon, whose army is whittled down by God to 300 men, nonetheless vanquishes the Midian army of tens of thousands so they may know that the victory comes from the Lord.

Remnant theology often represents the need for purification of God’s people.  The prophet Malachi speaks of the Lord coming like a refiner’s fire to make the people fit once again.  Sometimes the people need to be purged, to be sifted, to remove the dross for the people to be refined - to be made holy.

I have been drawn to remnant theology lately, particularly as I have become more disillusioned with the church in the United States.  I am disturbed by the virulent witness of conservative evangelicals, disheartened by the steady decline of mainline Protestant churches, appalled by the Catholic church’s abusive history, and distressed by the internal squabbling of my own denomination.  Yet, I see in remnant theology a sign of hope.  God will have a people.  

In every age, since the time of Abraham and Sarah, God has chosen people to introduce redemption and renewal into the world.  And while God’s people often fall into accommodation, rather than offering an alternative, to the world, again and again in history God manages to use a remnant of holy people to refine and restore God’s intentions for all of creation.  No matter how bleak the historical context, God will have a people.    

I am encouraged by the words of Paul in Romans 11:5, “So too at the present time there is a remnant, chosen by grace.”  Will you and I be among that remnant?