Depersonalizing the Supernatural

I just finished watching the old Star Wars series this week with Heidi.  One of the most important elements of the movie is the pervasive "Force" ...which is something like a supernatural energy that permeates the universe.  The force doesn't have its own thoughts or emotions, its just... well... a force.  It's an impersonal power and energy that can be mastered or controlled by those with either good or bad intentions.

It got me thinking.  Every religion and most worldviews maintain some belief in the reality of the supernatural.  There is something beyond chemicals and matter.  There is something beyond atoms and electrons.  There is something beyond our world or something that perhaps permeates into our world.  But what sort of supernatural things are there?  The answer to this question is where the similarities usually end.  Is the supernatural a karmic energy that balances out the injustices of the world?  Is true reality just a hidden supernatural force underneath everything that we have forgotten about?  Is the supernatural a bunch of human-like gods with their own righteous (or sometimes cruel) agendas?

Most people have not given up on the supernatural.  Many seem determined to say there is something out there.  But most seem equally determined to depersonalize the supernatural.  What do I mean by that?  Most explicitly is of course how so many in the last 50 years have been particularly drawn to eastern worldviews and religions whose beliefs center on declaring that the true supernatural reality of the universe is something impersonal.  The supernatural is a force, an energy.  It is not something that has feelings or beliefs.  It is not something that has a will or emotions or self-awareness.  It is an "it," not a "he" or "she."  Even though monistic Hinduism, atheistic Buddhism, even New Age metaphysics all have personal gods way back in their historical roots, the greater emphasis today is the mystical and esoteric truths which focus in on the core belief of an impersonal ultimate supernatural reality.  It's not just that people have been specifically drawn into these beliefs (although many have), but how as a whole our tolerant western culture seems to find eastern visions of impersonal supernatural forces as much more agreeable/open-minded, than say a personal Christian God.  The culture is slowly and methodically leaning toward a more depersonalized vision of the supernatural.

But there are also less obvious ways the supernatural is being steadily depersonalized across the world and even within theistic religions.  We can think about this better if we think about marriage for example.  My marriage is a very personal relationship.  I know my wife.  She knows me.  Taking care of my wife is not like taking care of my car.  If I plan perfectly all my various marital duties and do them exactly on schedule, that does not mean I have a healthy marriage.  That's because my wife is not a machine, she is a person.  I have to deeply understand her, and come along side her, and truly feel things toward her and our marriage that she can sense.  Marriage is something significantly more than duty.  My car doesn't care about what I feel or my motivations; it just cares (in a manner of speaking) about whether I'm doing my due diligence in a timely way.  And so the question is: Is interacting with the supernatural more like how I should interact with my car... or more like how I should interact with my wife?  Even for those religions who believe in a personal God, the unfortunate answer to this question is that people often believe the interaction is more like my car.  

From pagans to Pharisees to everything in between, religious people seem to actually prefer a depersonalized interaction with supernatural reality.  It is about religious duties and practices that really form the center of people's interaction with the supernatural, even if the supernatural is personal.  There are lots of reasons perhaps, but the one that immediately presents itself is that a personal interaction is significantly more difficult to manage, predict and control than interacting with a depersonalized set of duties and requirements.  (Need we mention marriage again!)  If I can reduce my interaction with the supernatural to simply a set of manageable rituals and behaviors that will bend the world (or the afterlife) in my favor, it will be substantially easier for me to control the outcome.  Or so it seems for many.  As you might sense, this propensity to depersonalize our interaction with the Supernatural brings under the umbrella a lot of theistic religion and practice.

There are other reasons we depersonalize the supernatural as well.  It provides a pretty simple account for the existence of suffering and evil in the world.  Forces are not moral agents, only a person can be a moral agent.  So safely putting the supernatural into the impersonal category disallows it from being morally accountable for the existence of moral or existential evil.  Additionally, people prefer depersonalizing the supernatural so that the notion one's own ultimate moral accountability loses its edge.  After all, you can't really offend a force.  You can only offend a person.  Forces are quite a bit safer to manage along those lines as well. 

There are of course objective reasons that would say this trend is not leading us toward an accurate picture of the Supernatural.  But as I hinted at, it's not really a set of objective reasons that are drawing us as a culture away from it anyway.  A husband who treats his wife like a impersonal robot needs more than a lesson or two on the value of healthy love and intimacy.  His heart needs to taste and be captivated by the beauty of true leadership and intimacy.  He needs to see it lived out in front of him in an attractive, healthy, winsome, and joyful way.  So it is with us who love our personal interaction with the ultimate supernatural Reality of the universe!  Our lives need to be a unique display for a world that is growing more favorable toward a robotic or even 'a force' vision of the supernatural.  We all love Star Wars; but I can't imagine anything better than living as a second-tier servant and son under the personal God (as I know him), than even living as a first-tier Jedi that has made the supernatural serve me!

What about you?

The Power of an Idea

"Sow a thought, reap an action. Sow an action, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap a character. Sow a character, reap a destiny."

– William James

Endurance: A Fading Reality

Two worthy excerpts from The Roots of Endurance by John Piper:

"There is a mind-set in the prosperous West that we deserve pain-free, trouble-free existence.  When life deals us the opposite, we have a right to not only to blame somebody or some system and to feel sorry for ourselves, but also to devote most of our time to coping, so that we have no time or energy left over for serving others.  

This mind-set gives a trajectory to life that is almost universal -namely, away from stress and toward comfort and safety and relief.  Then within that very natural trajectory some people begin to think of ministry and find ways of serving God inside the boundaries set by the aims of self-protection.  Then churches grow up in this mind-set and it never occurs to anyone in such a community of believers that choosing discomfort, stress, and danger might be the right thing -even, the normal, biblical thing- to do.

Later in the book, Piper offers additional observations about our churches, his own tendencies, and the value of imitating people of endurance:

"I need this inspiration [for endurance] from another century, because I know that I am, in great measure, a child of my times.  And one of the pervasive marks of our times is emotional fragility.  It hangs in the air we breathe.  We are easily hurt.  We pout and mope easily.  We blame easily.  We break easily.  Our marriages break easily.  And our commitment to the church breaks easily.  We are easily disheartened, and it seems we have little capacity for surviving and thriving in the face of criticism and opposition.

A typical emotional response to trouble in the church is to think, 'If that's the way they feel about me, then I'll just find another church.'  We see very few healthy, happy examples today whose lives spell out in flesh and blood the rugged words, 'Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds' (James 1:2).  When historians list the character traits of America in the last third of the twentieth century, commitment, constancy, tenacity, endurance, patience, resolve, and perseverance will not be on the list.  The list will begin with an all-consuming interest in self-esteem.  It will be followed by the subheadings of self-assertiveness, self-enhancement, and self-realization.  And if we think that we are not children of our times, let us simply test ourselves to see how we respond when people reject our ideas or spurn our good efforts or misconstrue our best intentions.  

We all need help here.  We are surrounded by, and are part of, a society of emotionally fragile quitters.  The spirit of the age is too much in us.  We need to spend time with the kind of people -whether dead or alive- whose lives prove there is another way to live.

What's with the singing?

There are many flavors of Christianity.  But despite such a wide variety, one of the many common threads you will find among them all is a strange propensity to sing.  Whether there is the full worship band with modern instruments or the organ-led hymns of traditional churches or even the good-ol hand clapping and dancing in African and Asian churches, across the spectrum Christians are always singing in some measure or other.  An interesting question is why?

Other religions have singing to be sure.  But singing is not as central, nor as universally prolific across cultures and traditions as it is for Christianity.  Some religions center on recitations and rituals, some on fasting and offerings, some on meditation and chanting.  Christianity has these customs as well.  But Christianity is a religion whose worship is more characterized by singing than any other.  And more than that, it is so prolific that you will actually observe people that you would think the least-likely to take part in public singing and popular music (like the older and conservative no-dancing churches for example) still finding reason to joyfully lift their voices together.

The answer to why is more than sociology –it is more than just tradition.  Christianity has proven to allow very unique expressions of its beliefs across the spectrum.  The meaning of worship has proven to be more significant to Christians than the various forms of worship.  This is not true of many other religions.  And so if this is true, saying singing is just a traditional Christian form is too simplistic of an answer.

I submit that the most important reason is a specific (and unique) aspect to its beliefs that produces this propensity to sing.  There is something at the heart of what Christians believe that demands community-wide celebration.  Every religion, including Christianity, has a path and a destination for its followers that at least has the potential for a hopeful ending -a nirvana, a heaven, a new world.  But Christianity, as far as I know, is the only one where the eschatological new age has already been set in motion.  An enduring hope, that has already (in some measure) been realized.  What do I mean?

First, lets talk theology.  Contrary to all the endtimes sensationalism and speculation, the theological center of what the new age is really about in the bible is three things:  new resurrection, eschatological judgment, the return of God's presence and Spirit to be amongst His people.  This was and still is the Jewish hope for God's new creation.  Then Jesus marches on the scene and says the kingdom of God is here (Lk 17:20-21, Matt 12:28).  Here now.  Right now.  God is starting to fulfill the long-awaited promises. The new age is dawning.  And so it did.  End times judgment for sin actually began then on a wooden cross.  The first-fruits of humanity's new resurrection also happened three days later.  And 40 days after that, God's long awaited presence returns in a whirlwind.  It has already happened.  But of course not in its fullness.  The New Testament teaches the new creation has already been set in motion, but its full consummation is still yet to come.

For this reason, there is not just promises and hope in Christianity.  There is also fulfillment.  Jubilee.  There is new creation.  There is forgiveness.  There is God returning and literally dwelling in and amongst His people again.  Right now.  Christians say not just that Jesus will save us one day.  They actually say he has saved us (notice the past tense).  And if these aspects of fulfillment are at the center of Christian belief across the centuries and across the continents, there is only one thing to do.  Celebrate.  Sing to the Lord.  Make a joyful noise!  Rejoice.  The new life, the new creation, the new age is not just to come.  Look around... it is already sprouting around us!

It is remarkably unique.  And for this reason, it becomes a beautiful invitation for others to touch and taste something that for most people is only a distant hope.

A "Retired" Christian... ?

In a television interview actor Peter O'Toole was once asked, "Are you a believer?"

His unique response was "I am a Retired Christian."

He seems to mean that he doesn't practice anymore, but he's still "cool" with God (whatever that means).  He does admit to reading the bible because of "the beauty of the language" and also comments on his admiration for the faith and belief of those people within the bible.

A perfect dodge.  A delicate sidestep away from any denial or acknowledgement of whether the faith of those people in the bible is actually built on something true.  If I was in the interview chair I would have asked two follow up questions...  Since I don't like dodges no matter how playfully colorful, I would have asked again: So then are you a believer Peter?  Do you believe the teachings of the bible to be true?...  Another interesting follow up question would have been:  What do you think it takes –as you say Peter– to be "cool" with God?  His answer to that probably wouldn't be that unique, but still worth asking.

I remember in High School a teacher was "cool" the more he or she for the most part let us do whatever we wanted.   If the teachers joked around a lot or used a few profanities for effect, they were really cool.  Basically a teacher being "cool" was a teacher being quite like the students themselves.  I wonder if Peter O'Toole might be going along the same track about God.  I'm cool with God.  God's cool with me.  God doesn't get uptight or really take anything too seriously.  For the most part, God just lets us go about our lives and maybe He just throws us a few tips along the way...

It is a perspective that provides plenty of room for the idea that someone could actually "retire" from God.  A notion so dramatically disconnected from anything resembling the beautiful, life-giving teachings that O'Toole says he reads every night, that the only logical thing to say is this understanding of Christianity is pure projection.

Saying I can "retire" from Christianity is like saying a Cocker Spaniel can retire from being a dog.  It would show more that I don't actually know what a Cocker Spaniel really is. In the same way, saying Christianity is the sort of thing you can retire from (like a hobby or a summer home or a vocation) shows Mr. O'Toole missed the basic category of the sort of thing Christianity really is.

Your World, A Poem for Nathaniel

Nathaniel likes to wake up while it is still dark.  While I held him yesterday morning his eyes were wide open, but they were moist, swollen and red.  He had been crying.  He had his first fever yesterday along with a few other symptoms of illness.  Like most of us, he was uncomfortable and frustrated.  But there was a curious look on his face as well.  A surprised and bewildered look.  Almost as if he was looking up and asking, what is this pain?  Why do I feel this?

And so I thought to write something for him…

___________________________

Your World

Looking into your worn eyes,

It's as if today is the first day,

The first day you feel that something is not right.  

As you look back at me,

You seem to sense

The world is not as it should be.

This is our world little one.

This is your world.

So many smiles and laughs.

So many new tastes and new adventures.

The joys you feel with every new discovery are so incredibly pure.

But not everything you find will be joyful.

Not everything you taste will be delightful.

Something has happened.

This is our world Nathaniel.

This is your world.

Trees and ferns, 

Flowers and fruits,

A forest of delight surrounds you.

But something else has grown up alongside.

A parasite never intended.

A disturbing overgrowth overshadows everything.

This is our world my son.

This is your world.

We often ignore the shadows,

Or minimize them.

But it waits for us all the same.

We isolate ourselves,

We insulate ourselves,

But the corruption you feel today needs another remedy.

This is our world Nathaniel.

This is your world.

Thrills and astonishing beauty,

Heroism and renewing hope.

Every day they live together with

Injustice and ceaseless warfare,

Betrayal and bitter words.

It is two worlds, but it is one world.

This is our world little one.

This is your world.

The darkness hangs above us, deeper still

The darkness lives inside us.

Precious little one, don’t let your eyes adjust.

When the thorns surround you, don’t prune them.

See it around you yes,

But see it inside of you first.

And tho’ the remnants of beauty have not vanished, look closer,

Something more magnificent has begun.

Precious little one, the corruption itself is being remade!

When thorns surround you, see more than silver linings.

See hope that stirs within you, yes,

But see the hope that is stirring outside of you first.

This, my son, this is our world.

This is your world.

Greater than Angels

First-century Judaism had a thorough-going hierarchy of spirits, angels, and demons.  Some Jews would wear amulets around their necks in order to invoke the protection of angels from evil spirits.  One amulet for example was published as saying: “Michael, Gabriel, Ouriel, Raphael, protect the one who wears this... Flee, O hated one, Solomon pursues you.”

Even the Qumran community, which was outside mainstream Judaism at the time, also had quite a vast understanding of the rank and function of angelic hosts.  In a text called the War Scroll, the “sons of light” fight valiantly at the end of the age against the “sons of darkness” with angelic forces leading both armies.  Another text called 11QMelchizedek interprets the Melchizedek figure in the book of Genesis as an angel.  They weave him into an intricate eschatological plot where this angel comes to have certain functions that would later be interpreted as distinctly messianic.  He is to return at the end of the age to bring liberty to the captives and to defeat, once and for all, the forces of darkness.  He is the “Prince of light” and they often seem to equate him with Michael the Archangel.

For a Jewish context that had a very high regard for angels, this is fascinating background for the opening chapters of the book of Hebrews.  The author of Hebrews wants his Jewish readers to know who they are leaving behind if they trade Jesus for Judaism.  And he starts by arguing Jesus is greater than “angels.”  And since angels meant something more to Jews in this period than the harp-playing, cloud-hopping, halo-donning anecdotes we see today, than this argument has an edge we are prone to miss.  It is about rulership.  The delegated authority of God is not given to an angel.  It is given to “a son” (1:5).  Slap one.  The one sitting at the authoritative right hand of God is not an angel; it is the living messiah (1:13).  Back slap again.  The one who will fight God's enemies (the forces of darkness), the one who will rule God's kingdom with a scepter is not an angel; it is the living Jesus (1:8,13).  Double slap!

Although there are aspects to Jesus' superiority in Hebrews 1 that go all the way back to Jesus' fundamentally superior nature and being (1:2-3, 1:8,10), the primary argument is that Jesus has become superior to angels because the name that he has inherited is superior to them (1:4).  Jesus has inherited a rulership over something that angels are merely servants within.  He is forcing his readers to understand that leaving Jesus means you are leaving the commander of God's new kingdom –the very kingdom which is at the center of their enduring hope.  If you long for God's ultimate victory over evil, you probably shouldn't leave the one who holds God's scepter.