Being Reborn (Cause Daddy Said So)

As a Christian, if you think like an adult, you will act like a child.

Conversely, if you think like a child, you will act like an adult.

Let me explain.

I've talked with a lot of people. Especially Christians. Usually it happens that they want to hang out and talk, and, inevitably, the conversation will turn to them ranting about some issue in their lives that is causing them trouble, and I usually end up playing some kind of de facto counsellor (usually because my charge is a large double-double rather than a small mortgage). And often times, the problem is somewhat self-inflicted.

A dude who is so desperate for sex that he'll look to marry even if the woman is far from a Proverbs 31 woman, sometimes her salvation even being questionable. A woman who is so desperate for affection and intimacy that she'll consider dating a guy, even if he's not mature spiritually, even sometimes a non-Christian, but who is "interested in finding out about Jesus" or "is just struggling right now". These are the two primary problems I've encountered among professing Christians.

For those who aren't, the issues are far more varied, but usually involve some sort of ineffective defence mechanism they've built up in their life to deal with whatever pain and hardship is currently affecting their lives, be it drugs/drinking, sex, work, family, etc.

However, this is in regards to those professing to be Christians. In my last post I made note of a huge shift in my entire thinking process that God really started blowing my head up with a week or so ago. Since then, I've been struggling to articulate what exactly happened, how exactly my entire mental framework readjusted and what the actual shift was. Not an easy task. Especially for someone who likes working out every detailed angle, and so I do tend to confuse myself once in a while, thinking through every word choice and working out the logic piece by piece. What I was trying to work out was how one views God as a non-Christian or immature Christian versus one who is a mature Christian, and for a while, I was coming up blank.

And then a particular verse came to mind:

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3)

And it hit me.

The analogy is like that of a parent and a child. When the child is young, the child trusts the parent absolutely. The parent is the ultimate authority, and the parent is the one who decides what is best for the child, and the child has no choice but to follow, for that is all he/she knows. Yes, a child will disobey, but wise and loving discipline will often correct the path of a child gone astray. Ultimately, the child has no real will of its own that is able to subvert the parent, for all a child knows initially is instinct, and all it learns, it learns from the parent. (This is, of course, assuming ideal parenting with a typical child)

However, as an adult, a child will often times take the parent's advice into consideration, but will have usually formed opinions of their own, stemming from sources beyond how their parents raised them. Parents' authority and wisdom are seen as finite and conditional, rather than absolute. Yes, the parent may have good things to say, and may have some influence on decisions made, but there is the freedom to obey or disobey, to agree or disagree, because that person is "capable of making their own decisions." Their logical and rational capacities have increased to the point where they no longer see themselves as dependent on their parents but are, rather, independent beings working on their own life.

What the Bible is saying, what Jesus is saying about becoming like a child is not in action or in thought, not being "childish", which, in regards to action or thought, is usually understood in the Bible as a synonym for foolishness. (ex. 1 Cor. 13:11) Rather, it is meant in relational terms, meant to explain how one who is a worshipper of God is to view that interaction and relationship. The ESV study note for Matt. 8:3 explains this as "a childlike trust, vulnerability, and the inability to advance his or her own cause apart from the help, direction, and resources of a parent." Essentially, the entire framework of the mindset of a Christian is one that surrenders the authority and autonomy an adult assumes they have over their own life, and viewing God the way a young infant child views a mature, loving parent: completely dependent in every sense. There is no real, rational room for disagreement or independence; such children are not capable of such things.

When I talked with those Christians who were making those foolish decisions, they viewed God as an adult child views their parents. They knew what the Bible said, and had a decent grasp on Biblical theology. And what I would hear would be that, yes, God had things to say about what they were doing, and yes, He really did disagree. Sometimes they would even nod their head and agree that yes, they had to change what they were doing. But ultimately, whether they could admit it to themselves or not, they felt that what they were doing was right, and although they would never say it, their life was saying for them what they couldn't admit, what an adult child says of a parent with whom they are at odds: they just don't get where I'm coming from, they just don't understand, they should be tolerant of the fact that I don't agree with what they say, they'll love me either way, and in the end, I know what is best for myself.

And in the end, apart from a miracle of grace and mercy, it almost never works out for good.

But when I've talked with Christians who have walked faithfully with Christ, grown to be wise, and have made good decisions, what I often hear is reminiscent of a young child: that's my parent, they love me, they know what's best for me, they know more than me, I have no reason to think otherwise, and so even when it doesn't make sense, I obey them. Or, to sum it all up, in the eyes of a child full of affection and respect for their parents, "cause Daddy (or Mommy) said so." And that's why, in the following verse, Jesus said that to be greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, one would have to humble themselves like a child.

For so long as we try to hold on to any independence from God in any sense, we will continue to find ourselves stumbling into folly. So long as we view God as the parent who's too old-school to have any real idea of what we're dealing with, we'll continue to hurt both ourselves, those around us, and the God who redeemed us for the very purpose of making ourselves His children. This is what makes it huge when, of any title God could have chosen to reveal Himself as, He chose to reveal Himself as "Father", because whether we want to admit it or not, we are every bit as dependent on Him as infant children. And He is far more loving, wiser, and generous than any parent we could find on earth.

And this is the change that the Holy Spirit is continuously causing in my own mind.

Up until recently, if anyone asked why I believed what I did, and why I acted how I did, the truest answer would probably sound something like, "Well, logically, after all I've observed in both the Christian life and non, this is really the best and most fulfilling life, since I see the effects of sin and it doesn't hold much sway to what the Bible teaches is right and wrong."

Now, more and more every day, the truest answer I could give would be simply,

"Cause Daddy said so."

Nothing Makes Sense, And Everything is Wonderful

In the past couple weeks, I've spent some of my time engaging with those in what has been coined by most the "New Atheist" movement. For those unfamiliar, think Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Sam Harris. The process itself is the intellectual equivalent of trying to break a brick wall by bashing it with ones head. However, probably unknowingly to them, God used them to force me to actually think about the faith that I hold as true, and the Bible that I hold as authority.

Every day moreso than the last, I'm convinced that God must be the world's greatest comedian.

But I digress.

Inevitably, a common point of antagonism for most people are the laws of the Old Testament. Of course most of this comes from a misunderstanding of the Biblical story as a whole, and particular themes woven throughout the Biblical narrative in particular, but it got me thinking. Sent me down an alley as to what my own understanding is of the Old Testament and its law, and the path God chose to use. And I have learned a great deal.

But where I hit a roadblock, was the mindset with which to approach the Old Testament. Essentially, in exactly what state of mind must one approach the Old Testament to be able to see it in its proper light? How does the Bible present itself in a way which allows us to better understand it?

And then, tonight, sitting on my couch watching Criminal Minds and playing out a fictitious apologetic conversation in my head, it hit me.

It doesn't. The Bible doesn't present any path by which somebody who is not a Christian can logically look at the Bible and recognize its logic and authenticity. This is because the Bible starts where none of us will ever begin. The Bible starts by the assumption that God exists. More specifically, that He is a person, and He has a will, and, simply put, God is God.

The Bible gives no basis for this. It gives no "10 logical reasons that you will accept and understand that the Bible is true" manual at its beginning. It simply says, "In the beginning, God..." It gives no room to question it, no insert for epistemological arguments. And I believe the reason why this is, is a reason that none of us are capable of accepting by our own strength or reasoning.

God is God. He is the all-knowing, all-powerful, all-sovereign God of the Universe, and He does not need to prove Himself to anyone. He has no need for us to agree with Him, He has no need for us to accept His reasoning, He has no desire to submit Himself to any inkling of our own authority, and that kind of being is absolutely terrifying to a finite, limited, insecure, egotistical human being. Regardless of the creeds we recite, regardless of the doctrine we possess, regardless of what we know in our minds, our human nature cannot take the crippling, fatal blow of insignificance. God does not need us, God does not submit to us, and God would be perfectly fine and well if we had never even existed. And our human minds, craving for need and significance (usually by our own terms) just cannot accept a relationship with Someone with complete power, complete authority, and who will do what He wants, how He wants it, without the need to take any consideration to our own input.

This is a God to whom we are completely indebted, with whom we have no bargaining chip, and against whom none could even hope to thwart. This is a God who does not have to answer for the morality of His decisions, for He is the ultimate judge. He is what defines right and wrong. And this God is terrifyingly, terrifyingly holy. Unsettlingly, unimaginably good. This is the God of the Bible.

And this is a terrifying God. This is an unsettling God. This is the God we cannot manipulate. The God we cannot control. The God at whose sight we should have no other natural response but to tremble and beg for undeserved mercy, because we are unsettlingly, unimaginably evil.

This is not a God a human can accept.

This is a God beyond anything our pitiful minds could imagine.

And this God answers to no one.

Of course, thankfully, the Bible doesn't end there. But that is where it begins. And that is the foundation on which the entire Bible is built. And ultimately, this is where everything had its beginning, and where it will find its end.

I'd heard these words before. I'd said them to others before. But for the first time, the Holy Spirit took those words and began to make them into a reality.

And suddenly, it feels like my mind is starting to twist upside down. Like to suddenly actually believe this reality in one's soul requires such a drastic rearrangement that it feels as though the brain is flipping inside out. It doesn't make sense to me, and it doesn't add up in my head, but it is the truest thing I have ever begun to know.

And suddenly, the Bible begins to make a lot more sense.

And it's this realization that I say with even more resolve, tongue firmly in cheek, that I didn't choose to be a Calvinist.

The Guy In The Corner

Allow me to first begin by saying that I am a freak. My Apple dictionary defines a freak as: a person who is regarded as strange because of their unusual appearance or behaviour. I am a person who can't seem to fit in regardless of where he goes. I am a Christian, and yet I stand out among the church-goers because I smoke, drink, watch rated R movies, and think 98% of Christian music is a misnomer. Among non-Christians, I stand out because I believe the Bible, love Jesus, acknowledge the existence of Hell, and openly proclaim that I believe there is such a thing as right and wrong, truth and falsehood. In short, I'm a liberal among the conservatives, but too conservative to fit in with the liberals.

And if that didn't make things uncomfortable enough, I am an introvert. I don't have a lot of friends, I don't make friends easily, I seclude myself often, and, unless I am with people that I am very comfortable with, I get increasingly uncomfortable in groups of more than 2 or 3 people that I don't know very well. And it's a vicious cycle, because introverts often seem to have a giant "fuck off" sign written over their heads because of their behaviour, and so others are far less likely to approach them and make an attempt to befriend them. All the while, many of us long for meaningful friendships and relationships but cannot seem to find a way to cultivate them.

Being a freak and an introvert has led to one regular outcome: loneliness. I've even noticed that within the Christian church, there doesn't seem to be a place for people like myself. For a long time I thought there was something wrong about myself, something that needed to change about my personality, until, thank God, I found an article that felt like the first cool breeze in the scorching sun I'd been sitting in for years.

www.experimentaltheology.blogspot.com/2007/06/walk-with-william-james-part-8.html

It's nice to finally realize that sociability does not equal spirituality.

Looking Ahead

I'm not even going to pretend like I'm a man. I know full well I'm not. I'm a boy with a beard, who yearns for the benefits of a man without the responsibilities. I know myself well enough to know that much, and by the grace of God I know the difference well enough that simple ignorance is not an option.

I also know that He loves me. I know that deeper than anything else I hold in the vast vault of useful/useless knowledge in my inflated frontal lobe. I know that God does love me, and the men that He loves He does not allow to remain infants. Those He justified, He sanctified, and will glorify. It is, unless my love for Christ is mere inflation in and of itself, inevitable that He will chasten and discipline me to become more like Jesus. Whether I go willingly or kicking and screaming is my prerogative. (weird spelling in my opinion)

And if I know myself at all, it will not be all that willingly.

And so, if we do a little theological calculation, there arises an almost certain probability:

God's love, sovereignty, and will + my stubborn rebelliousness = Pain.

I can almost put money on the fact that the next year, if not longer, will be a period of periodically intense, constantly throbbing, self-inflicted pain. I spent several years experiencing physical growing pains, coming a year or two earlier for me than most, having shot from four foot-something to just over six feet tall in two and a half years. And now, my soul has some catching up to do, and I have a feeling it will make physical growing pains feel like a rug burn feels in comparison to a gunshot wound.

But do not mistake this for complaining.

The thought of the probability of incoming pain and discomfort has never been so calming in my life. Occasionally borderline exciting. Not in the way a masochist anticipates their next lashing, but how a fresh recruit anticipates his first day of training, his first deployment, his first battle. You know what pain likely lies ahead and your body often trembles at the thought of what is yet to come. For men of God are called to be soldiers, and the best of their kind. And the training soldiers are called to undergo will test their every fibre. And yet it is the anticipation that through that tribulation you will know the taste of honor, the taste of glory, and that through what others consider Hell you will become something beyond what is currently in your grasp: you will become a man. Your spine develops an iron core, your chest develops a gentle spirit, your mind becomes a razor with which to cut the teeth of the ignorant and foolish, and your whole being stripped of all juvenile ambition and replaced with a dose of reality, molded to a cause of something beyond even yourself.

And so I sit, a fresh-faced recruit. Bright eyed and occasionally ignorant of what lays before me. Pain, discomfort, abandonment, betrayal, scars, casualties, loss, gain, victory, defeat, exhaustion, despair, depression, trauma, struggle, and what keeps the blood flowing is a vision. A vision of things that are yet to come and yet make everything now seem worth it. I see the promise of what lays at the end of the road. I see the face of a loving Father and the joy His purpose will supply with endless measure.

I see the storm coming over the horizon, literally and metaphorically. I know what lies ahead. And in everything, what sustains us is the knowledge of what lays on the other side.

I Normally Don't Do This

I normally keep personal stuff out of my blog, basically because I don't think it's the entire world's business to know my personal stuff. But I feel like screaming at the world and this is my only real way to do so.

I am tired. I'm tired of being in the middle. I'm tired of getting involved with groups of people, drama ensuing, and me always getting the short end of the stick for it. It doesn't seem to matter what city I'm in or who the people involved are. Somehow, something always happens. Some gigantic rift in some form occurs. And suddenly, I'm the one getting demonized and accused or implied in picking one side over another. Or I'm stuck there against my will with no explanation. Or I get ripped because I see the error in both sides and thus have both sides turning their sights on me. Or, because I'm associated with someone, I get shoved to the sidelines and am isolated because me being around reminds so-and-so of so-and-so and that creates awkwardness and it's better to just ignore the spare piece than to risk any awkwardness.

If I thought it would actually solve anything I'd give the finger to everywhere I've been and nearly everyone I know and move somewhere where nobody knows me at all. But it would happen again some time in some way because that's just simply what happens. And I know there will come a time, probably the following morning or week, that things will settle down, or at least my mood, and I'll be humbled by some reminder or some expression of my own pride and prejudice, lost within these feelings of self-pity, practically begging for God to smack me in the face and remind me of my place. I'll be able to suck it up and bear through another week. I've been through this before. I'm used to shit hitting the fan and splattering me in the face. I'm used to being ignored and forgotten about. I'm used to good intentions with no backing actions.

I am a Leaf's fan after all.

And, despite what Raine Maida says, I'm not all that innocent myself.

The Fatherhood

I've been thinking a lot about fatherhood lately. The idea of God as Father, the impact of human fathers on our lives, positive and negative, the responsibilities of fathers and how it's all tied together.

I grew up with a non-Christian father. A father who had a horrible example of what a father was to be, like his father had before him. A father who was determined to be a better dad than what he had experienced. Growing up, the only real place my Dad and I really connected was with sports. I became a Maple Leafs fan because of the many nights as a kid sitting on my Dad's lap watching Mats Sundin and Felix Potvin, being filled with youthful excitement at every save and goal, talking with my Dad about the players, the coaches, critiquing plays and enjoying that me and my Dad had "our thing". I played many different sports as a child, from ball hockey, to baseball, to basketball, to golf, and my Dad was always alongside me in those pursuits, being my own personal coach (for better or worse) and always encouraging my pursuit of whatever game I was involved in.

Growing up, I became ever more aware of whatever deficiencies my Dad had in his fathering skills. Over time, I began to realize that outside of sports, I had no idea how to relate to my father. He had (and has) many deficiencies in his character, ones I grew bitter towards the older I became, in reflection probably because I saw many of those deficiencies in myself. I always felt that my Dad had a wall up around him, keeping himself at least partially guarded so no one could ever truly see everything that was under the surface, in retrospect probably because of so much of what he had been through. When my interests branched outside of sports, particularly into music, his withdrawal was noticeable. Observing this only caused me to become more bitter towards him over time, not realizing that it was probably because, not being very musically inclined at all, he had no idea whatsoever how to relate to this new passion I had thrust myself towards.

As my bitterness rose, it became outwardly noticeable. Lashing out at him for no good reason, poisoning my motivation to do well in school, since that was one area he was always pushing me hard towards, talking down to him, stealing things to get back at him...all because I felt like I had somehow been betrayed. My prime example for what it meant to be a man was, in my eyes, a failure, and, seeing as how I felt owed this one necessity of growing up, felt (in my mind) properly vindicated for my acts of aggression in retaliation for what I considered to be the cause of so many of my problems growing up. I was a young man, clueless in the ways of the world, and the one person who was supposed to help me figure it all out felt distant and often uncaring, leaving me to feel like I was fighting an uphill battle all by myself.

In the Bible, God describes Himself as Father. As Christians, the job of a Christian dad is to model, albeit imperfectly, something of what God is like as our Father. In scripture, men are given the leadership role in the Garden, called to work and cultivate all that is around them, reflecting the role of God as creator and cultivator, as He created all things and sustains it by his very will. Men were given the responsibilities over their wives and children, to lead and cultivate their families to be God-loving and fearing people. For example, in Deuteronomy 22, if a young woman fornicates with a man, she is to be put to death on her father's doorstep, since she is his responsibility. According to 1 Timothy chapter 5, any man that does not provide for his household is denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. It is the responsibility of every man who desires a marriage and children to model Christ in his relationship to his wife and God as Father to his children.

I ask myself, "why does God identify himself as Father?" It is a curious question, since he could have identified himself as "mother" or as "the ultimate parent, genderless in identification". And while John 4 tells us clearly that God is spirit, genderless in identification, the Bible calls God "He" and God identifies "himself" as "Father". Some have called this chauvinism and claimed that this shows that the Bible is sexist and degrades women, and that anyone who follows the Bible, at least fundamentally, will have a lower view of women than men. Yet I would greatly disagree. And here's why.

I don't think the Bible is trying to raise men up or lower women in terms of worth or value by identifying God with one gender and not the other. I don't think its meant to affect gender values, at least in the greater sense, at all. I simply think that the Bible, by calling God "Father", is revealing to us the answer to our sociological problems: that, regardless of whether you like it or not, although men and women are of equal value spiritually, everything is won or lost with the men. That the world is designed in such a way that the quality of the men really does determine the quality of life in general. For example:

-How many women become strippers or prostitutes because their mothers abused or neglected them?

-How many men become violent thugs because their mothers never gave them approval or cared about what they were doing?

While not all become so for such reasons, and perhaps a small percentage of them may have been caused by defective mothering, I would almost guarantee that the majority of problems in the lives of people in general are caused by men neglecting or abusing their role and responsibility. Would feminism be as prominent as it was if men actually loved, lead, and provided for their families, encouraged their sons, protected their daughters, cherished their wives, paid the bills, worked responsibly and cultivated as much as they could around them? Would there be a need for women to take many of the roles they do now if men simply started acting like responsible, cultivating, Godly men?

I've heard some say, "well yes I've failed as a man/husband/father, but it's okay because that is not a sin." First off, sin is not just doing what you're not supposed to do, but it's also not doing what you ARE supposed to do. Technically, it's defined as sins of COmission and sins of Omission. And systematic theology aside, you're seriously going to tell me that you can fail at your duty as Father, when GOD HAS TAKEN THAT TITLE ON HIMSELF?? That by failing as a Father, you throw dirt on the image of what God defines himself as?? That when your children look to you as a failing, impotent husband and father, and then read about God as Husband and Father, that it makes them want nothing to do with God at all?

By God's grace, He has allowed me to catch glimpses of what a perfect Father really is. So much of the damage that was done to me by my earthly father, whether intentional or not, has been healed by the glorious picture of the Father God describes himself by. The healing of those scars has resulted in the slow, painful sanctification in my attitude towards my Dad. I am nowhere near to where I should be, but day to day God patiently disciplines me, making me a tiny bit more graceful, a tiny bit more compassionate, and all the more convicted when I fail in those areas. I've learned to realize that I cannot expect someone who is not a Christian to act like one, and that my heart should not be for fixing him, but rather loving him with Christ's love and hope that God will change his heart.

I've been given the heart of God to be a husband and a father, and my knees tremble when I begin to comprehend the responsibility I will have, and the effect my job as father will have in the lives of whatever children God blesses me with, should he will me to have them. It is a terrifying thing to desire the title by which God Himself as taken on. And yet I am convicted of that duty for myself and any man desiring a family, and as my heart is being changed by God's grace, continue to look forward to it with joy knowing that with the Holy Spirit powering me, I am capable of doing such a job to the glory of God. I know I will fail to some degree, as I am human. I will not be the perfect father, the perfect husband. I will sin, will have to repent, and will have to rely on God's grace to enable me to repair anything I damage. But He who has started a good work in me will follow it through to completion, and by His grace I am able to do all things. And I am comforted that even in my trials and sufferings, his grace is sufficient, that his power is made perfect in my weakness.

To end this, let me just beg with anyone out there who is or may become a father. Please do not take your responsibilities lightly. You may never be able to comprehend the effects your role will have on any children given to you by God. For the sake of the men being raised up in your care, you may be the biggest blessing and example God will use to save and sanctify them. For those women in your care, you provide the example for the kind of man she will think is normative, the kind of man she will look to marry. As a man trying to figure out his way as a man, who loves a woman who has struggled to figure out what a Godly man looks like, I am begging fathers to do their jobs well. For the sake of the generations to follow, do your jobs well.

Seperation.

I'm baaaack. Not much surprise there.

On my mind today is marriage. Actually, marriage is on my mind on a regular basis, as anyone who knows me and my girl would know; today, my specific thought is on the topic of marriage in relation to separation of Church and State. This is not a thought I spontaneously came up with, it's more what I would consider a suggestion to a blog written by a buddy of mine, Kevin, who was responding to a blog post by Tony Jones, a prominent pastor in the Emerging Church movement. Now Kevin and myself agree on many theological issues as far as I am aware, and neither one of us is usually in agreement with Tony Jones or that movement in general, but Jones did bring up a legitimate point in his blog.

In that blog post, he stated that he believes that pastors should give up the right to perform legal marriages. For Kevin's comment on the post, click here. The point in question is that while we are commanded by Romans 13 to obey the government as far as is possible, it is hard to challenge it when necessary when you are an agent of said government, which is exactly what clergy and the church becomes when you are granted the power to legitimize legal marriages.

Now, I will not go out of my way to fully explain what the others articulated in their posts, since it would be easier for you to go and read them yourselves. But I do have a suggestion as to a possible solution, and I'll leave it to you reading to decide its merit and comment accordingly, since this was a random, spontaneous thought while headbanging to As I Lay Dying. It would go as follows:

(In case you didn't notice, I do enjoy numbers and lists)

1. Obtain a legal marriage license.

Since we are to obey the government, a couple would go to a Justice and become legally married.

2. Enter into Sacramental marriage.

Obviously, what culture defines as a marriage and what scripture defines as a marriage differ. Therefore, after becoming legally married, the couple would have a sacramental wedding. What I would propose (and I realize this may all seem horribly redundant to state but in case it isn't I'm posting it anyways) is that the couple would go through the wedding ceremony the same as they do, except instead of signing a marriage license, they would sign, along with the pastor and usual witnesses, a covenant agreement for their marriage, much like churches do with those becoming members. In the covenant would be the agreement on what the Bible defines as true sacramental marriage, the Biblical definitions of the roles in marriage, each spouse's responsibilities to the other, and agreeing to open themselves to church discipline in their marriage if needed.

Now obviously this is a little rough, unspecific, and I'm sure there are many "what if"s and "what about"s that could arise from this process, particularly since I mentioned nothing about the processes leading up to marriage, but that is, in a sense, why I'm posting this in the first place: feedback.

The Regulative Principle

On my prior post I talked about worship idolatry and it brought up what is called the Regulative Principle of worship. To those who don't know, the Regulative Principle is one of two possible principles held by Bible-believing Christians that regulates what we can and cannot do in gathered worship settings (Church services). They are the Regulative and Normative principles. They're defined as follows:

Regulative: In church services, only that which is commanded in scripture, or that which is a good and necessary implication of a Biblical text, is allowed in organizing a service, and nothing more. (i.e. communion per 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, prayer per 1 Tim 2:8 as one example)

Normative: In church services, what God commands is to be be done, but as long as something is not forbidden by scripture it can, by the discernment of the leadership, be practiced in gathered church services.

Many debates have been made on this issue, with the question being which should we follow? My personal answer to the question of whether I agree with the Regulative or Normative principle is: Yes.

Not A or B.

Yes.

Why? Because I think they are the two halves of one answer and are much closer together than the extremists on either side will often recognize or admit. At least if defined properly. One defines the means and the other the methods. The Bible holds both commands and principles to follow in regards to how a service, and life in general, is to be conducted. Are we to sing in celebration? Yes. (Ps. 96:1) Are we to pray? Yes. (Eph. 6:18) Is there to be preaching of the word? Yes. (2 Tim. 4:1-2) There are many things that, in principle and by command, we are to incorporate into the service. Likewise, there are things which are forbidden in worship to God, such as copying specific religious rituals from other religions (Deuteronomy 12:30-31). In this way, we hold to the Regulative Principle of worship.

However, while we do get many principles and commands from scripture, many of the commands are not very specific as to their practice, and the principles do not give specific methods. Those who adhere to a strict Regulative Principle say that if the Bible doesn't explicitly say what to do, we shouldn't do it. But this presents a few problems. For example, we do not have a fully detailed, practical example of a New Testament temple meeting by which to measure our own meetings by. And while we are told to sing, what do we sing? What instruments do we use? Exactly how long should the preaching be? What time should services start? How many people make a most effective community setting? In the example of singing, we are told to sing to God psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs (Col. 3:16) while told elsewhere to sing to the Lord a "new song". (Ps 96:1) So how do we decide which, how long, and with what? If we hold to a strict form of the principle, we're stuck. Also, consider the following: the Bible does not mention anywhere chairs, organs, greeters, suits, ties, or children's care/nurseries. So, by that definition, any church that contains any of the above things is unbiblical.

So how do we get these cultural adaptations to scriptural principles?

The Normative Principle. The faithful applying of a biblical command or principle culturally adapted to the situation at hand. If we realize we have the freedom to apply the scriptures faithfully within different cultures so long as scripture does not forbid it, we have the new space available to move around as would best suit the forward movement of the Gospel. We have the opportunity to contextualize within culture to reach as many as possible, as Paul did upon Mars Hill, while still remain faithful to the scriptures. Like with the other principle, some take it too far and begin filling their services with meaningless forms of entertainment (is there a way to justify a mime in a service?), or confusing the priorities as to which should hold more ground in a service (i.e. the church that shortens its sermons to make room for a drama).

In saying all of this, I believe there are things we can remember in order to remain faithful and relevant at the same time.

1. Worship is God-focused, not people-focused.

Our worship is not about what gives us the most pleasure or what we would necessarily enjoy or be entertained by. It is our response to the realization of the gospel, of our forgiveness of sins by Christ dying on the cross, and the expression of the joy that is brought with the realization and fruitition of this amazing truth. Therefore, our decisions must always be dictated by the question, "what will glorify God the most," then diving into Scripture and prayer to find what God has said will do so most effectively. This realization is, I believe, what will mainly help avoid a misunderstanding of cultural contextualization, and will keep us from sacrificing faithfulness for being "hip", which is the common over-reaction of the Normative Principle. Like Deuteronomy 12:8 says, worship is not "everyone doing whatever is right in his own eyes."

2. Worship is a life-consuming responsibility and activity.

What we do in a service is simply a continuation of what has occurred during the rest of the week. To quote a well-known pastor, worship is a lifestyle. Therefore, we cannot live by one set of rules during the week and another set on Sunday. The problem with strict Regulative Principle adherents is that they betray their own philosophy by misunderstanding the principle of worship itself. What we do on Sunday should not differ from our lives the other 6 days of the week, and during the rest of the week these people, at least I'd hope, brush their teeth, drive a car, use a computer, wear socks and pants, and use deodorant, none of which is even mentioned in scripture. We cannot be hypocrites, living one way during the week and another on Sunday. All of life is worship, regardless of what day it is on. Therefore, we should treat all worship with the same reverence and guidelines, no matter whether we are with the church singing on Sundays or home alone taking a shower.

3. Just because a freedom is abused does not mean we should abandon it, but rather redeem it and use it as God intended.

In a world filled with sinful human beings, everything, whether it is neutral or good on its own, will be abused in some form. All the freedoms we are given in Christ, be it worship style, alcohol, sex, or money, will be abused in some sense by someone. Often times, these abuses are made popular and many fall in line, believing they are just "exercising their freedom in Christ" even when their actions are explicitly forbidden by scripture. But that does not mean we should villify and/or abandon them. For hyper-liberals, scriptural principles are abused and abandoned, including biblical male eldership, church discipline, sound theology, and even the authority of Scripture itself. For hyper-Conservatives, the cultural contextualization of the gospel is often abused and abandoned, including such things as the use of alcohol, music style and taste, clothing, the entertainment industry, and even dialect.* Just because something, including a freedom, is abused does not mean we abandon it, but rather we seek to do the work of the Gospel in redeeming the whole world, and take that which has been defiled and redeem it and use it as God originally intended.

*While one might say that the former is more serious than the latter, may I suggest that if God deemed the New Testament to be written in Koine Greek, the language of the common man, and to include verses from Roman mythology, it should be safe to say that God values the contextualization of His gospel. Also, both lead to equally perverse forms of religion: License, where we value culture over conviction and do whatever we want, allowing ourselves to be our own gods, and Legalism, where we begin making rules and standards not found anywhere in the Bible, and begin enforcing them, relying on things other than the cross to redeem us, and the fruit of the Spirit to identify us.

4. Our ultimate allegiance and identity must never be to a specific denomination, worship style, teacher, or church building, but to Christ first and foremost.

One of the biggest problems between theologies and denominations is the common mistake of human beings to idolize their church, their pastor, their style, or that denomination, and make it so that they alone have the ultimate connection to Christ and everyone else is either wrong, or altogether demonic, even if they agree on the foundational truths of scripture. While it is okay to identify with a specific theological group, pastor, style, or denomination, we must be defined above all as Christian, as a "mini-Christ", and have the humility to not make secondary issues primary issues in regards to theology. Far too often we have the tendency to define ourselves as "Calvinists" or "Arminians" or "Baptists" or "Catholics", and when we define ourselves primarily by that, we make it easier to demonize other Jesus-loving, Bible-believing Christians. There is always room for debate and discussion, but on the secondary issues there are no good reasons to divide and demonize. Even Paul, when asked about those preaching Christ out of selfish ambition and rivalry, said that "whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice." (Philippians 1:18)

So, do I believe the Regulative Principle is good? In the sense where it requires scripture to be our conscience when defining our worship, including our large gatherings. And I believe the Normative Principle is also good, allowing us the freedom to contextualize in order to reach as many peoples as possible. In fact, it would be safe to say that when properly understood, these positions are much more parallel than either side might think. Whaddya think Mark? :P

My Biggest Problem With Pentecostalism That Maybe Shouldn't Be, At Least Not Personally

I was at work recently, and my mind happened to wander back to a specific situation I found myself in. Here was I, sitting in a car on a ride to Hamilton along with two of my cousins Nairn and Sherry, and a friend of my cousin from her church who the three of us were dropping off on the way to my other cousin, Carry's house for a Christmas party.

The interesting piece of information?

I was the lone Reformed guy in a car full of full-on Pentecostals.

Charismatic prophecy, miracles, speaking in tongues Pentecostals.

Talk about a fish out of water.

Some background information on me pertaining to this situation: my experience in the charismatic spiritual gifts is VERY limited, and outside of scriptural study on them I've never really experienced, in my opinion, a truly Biblical expression of the more flamboyant gifts. I do believe they still exist and are used by God, and I am most certainly not what one today would consider a culturally conservative Calvinist. I love metal music, a good pint of beer, I smoke, and I like more mainstream movies and music than Christian (I often say that Christian music is an oxymoron), and yet I do love my theology, believing that orthodoxy does lead to orthopraxy. Under today's definitions, I would most likely be grouped in what is called today the New Calvinism. Yet the gifts themselves tend to make me a little nervous, since according to Biblical standards, I have yet to see a true, Bible-guided expression of those specific gifts.

Back to the story.

Halfway to Guelph, where we were dropping this other young lady off to an evening service, I started chuckling. My cousin Nairn saw me and immediately laughed as well, since she knows my stance, and, in that creepy, family-way, can tell almost immediately what was running through my head. Our respective theological positions are not a secret, as we have talked extensively at times about mine and her respective positions on the gifts, and have, thankfully, been able to disagree agreeably, with respect still held on both sides. But of course, our laughing catches the attention of our fellow riders.

When my cousin, Sherry, inquires as to our seemingly-out-of-nowhere fit of laughing, and I respond, "I'm just rather amused that I'm the lone Reformer in a car full of Pentecostals." Sherry begins to laugh, as does our fellow rider (whose name I cannot remember). Up until this point things were good.

Then our unnamed compatriot, who had been rather untalkative for most of the trip, started talking. And while most of what she said I cannot now remember for the life of me, one particular sentence rattled my bones in a way few things often do:

"It's just too bad you aren't able to freely worship God."

(Cue the oooohhhhh's and "oh boy"s from those who know anything about my personality and my feisty opinionated-ness)

When I began to inquire (not quite so calmly) as to the reason why my specific Calvinistic convictions limited my ability to worship, I got little response, as she had launched into a crusade right there in the car, praying and rambling words I couldn't quite catch, as my two cousins up in the front seat were nearly in tears from laughing so hard at the scene emerging from the back seat.

Thankfully, the length of the ride from her comment to dropping her off at the church was less than a minute. Otherwise, I was feeling rather tempted top grab her shoulders, try to shake her senses back so that we could have an actual discussion, and proceed to completely grill her into a corner as best as I could, which probably would not have been very Christ-like...or maybe. Jesus had a good freak out every now and then, so maybe I could have somehow justified myself as to my desire to scream the air clear of Charismaniacism.

Now, I do not dislike Pentecostals, nor do I hold a grudge or consider them unChristian. Me and my cousin Nairn get along great and, while jokes are sent both ways on the issue, we do respect each other. My roommate, who has become one of my best friends and a dude I insanely enjoy and respect, in Bible College, is, or at least was raised Pentecostal. I've even written a blog critiquing what I consider to be great strengths of the Pentecostal movement while mentioning my concerns. But there is still something about it, often times my seeing a service, that almost provokes a nervous twitch.

And it is all summed up in that one sentence:

"It's just too bad you aren't able to freely worship God."

Why am I not able to freely worship? Because I don't expect a healing of every disease and ailment while we're still in this age? Because I can't prophesy on command? Because I speak in a legible tongue and not in something that, quite frankly, sounds like a bunch of drunks at happy hour trying to mimmic an African tribe? (no disrespect to those who may actually have the gift, I'm talking about the churches who practically command everyone in service to do so) The fact that I don't dance around with a praise banner shaking a tambourine looking like Jefferey in 12 Monkeys?

Okay, breathe Eric.

I'm not even going to go into what I consider wrong with the specific theology of worship they present. (Nope. Not gonna go there. Not gonna whip out 1 Corinthians 14:23. Not going to. Nope. Not gonna. No. Uh Uh. No.)

*Sigh.*

Here is my primary beef:

It's worship idolatry.

It's taking a specific type of worship (Pentecostal, Baptist, etc), and proclaiming it to be THE way to worship, THE best way to commune with God, and "if you don't do things the way we do

then you're not worshipping fully", which often has undertones of "you're not getting as close to God as I am". Hogwash. Bull****. Crap. Take whichever term you prefer and ignore the one(s) you don't.

That's placing the means before the end. That's taking the way to commune with the Father out of the mediation Christ by the ability of the Holy Spirit and placing it in a style, or a song choice, or the music volume. Like how high you jump or how loud you sing or scream or whether you can or can't babble incoherently in a crowd, like someone put too many poprocks on your tongue. (Insert another exhalation here) It's completely inconsistent with Christ, who says that HE is the only way to the Father.

I've seen this more blatantly in Charismatic churches than anywhere else. Which is why I often have a problem with Pentecostalism in general. But I know I cannot get too worked up. The same exists in Lutheran, Wesleyan, Catholic, Baptist traditions, and, yes, even my own treasured Reformed (or Reformissional, 'cause it sounds catchier) tradition. In fact, thinking about it now, many non-Charismatic traditions do the same thing, many are just more subtle about it. Thus my extended comment as to why I should not just have a problem with Pentecostals, or at least personally.

I spent so much time relishing in relaying the story that most of my steam has been blown out to follow it up, but I think that's all I want to say. Now I'm craving relish. And a hot dog. And salad dressing. And onio-*fades out into the distance*

*He's gone.*