Robert Munson's Blog, page 18
June 21, 2024
Presuppositional Apologetics— A Really Bad Idea?
I must admit, as I have before, apologetics— at least as it is commonly done— is really not my thing. I went to college in a Christian school that seemed to really like apologetics, and I got interested in it briefly but lost interest. A lot of apologists I read seemed like people who acted in bad faith. They would make a strong statement (often one I would agree with) and then would throw a single verse that was meant to be “prove” the statement. Often the verse did little to prove anything. Verse-dropping gives comfort to those who already believe (except for people like me, I guess), but less than impressive who don’t.
Presuppositional Apologetics seems to be something quite different. In some ways, it appears to be an improvement. It assumes that any belief system (or, arguably, any belief) has core presuppositions. Rather than arguing the details of the doctrines or practices, argue the values and beliefs that undergird the faith. If one shows that it makes no sense… is irrational, the person will understand that their faith is built on sand not on a firm foundation. Certainly then they will change their mind. Often this form of apologetics also involves a “for argument sake” method of the Christian acting as if the faith perspective of the other is true and then see if it passes the rationality test.
I don’t have problems with the method… except that (1) it seems like a waste of time, and (2) does not really do what it promises. Let me break those down into a few point.
A. People don’t really relate to their own religion that way. The number of people who base their religion or belief perspective on a logical set of non-contradictory propositions has got to be pretty close to zero. Most people choose their faith due to community, morality, or practice.
B. Most major faiths, at least, have a certain level of logical “resilience.” In other words, they have tended to have worked through the major issues. I have studied a number of different religions. In them, I have often found glaring contradictions. In some cases, I know how people in those religions have worked through them. Sometimes they do it in a logical way— while in others they may pull an seemingly unfair wild card out of the deck (“Well… God works in mysterious ways”, for example). In some cases, I have no idea how they work out the contradiction, but I am pretty sure that if I brought it up with someone who was well-grounded in their faith, certainly I would not be shocking them or creating a crisis of faith.
C. Contradictions look more glaring to outsiders, but rarely are seen as problematic to insiders. Goldingay speaks of 4 major types of contradiction— formal, contextual, substantive, and fundamental. Of these, only fundamental should really challenge one’s faith. And yet most people probably would not see a contradiction in their faith as being fundamental. I remember having a Mormon friend of mine try the old chestnut on me, “If God can do all things, can he create a stone too heavy for him to lift.” I am sure for a Mormon, that is a “slam dunk.” But as an insider, the question is so flawed as to be embarrassing. I don’t presume that God can do all things. The Bible says that He is unlimited in power, but that in no way means He can do all things. Additionally, to establish a question based on an inherent self-contradiction is… well, really weak. To say, for example, “Is God so powerful that He can fail to do something due to power” just doesn’t work as a statement. “If God is omnipresent, at all places at all times, is He even where He isn’t.” I am not trying to practice sophistry here. I am just saying, that there are few if any logical traps that a reflective and knowledgeable practitioner of a faith would be stuck by.
D. Christianity is not immune to the arguments of presuppositional apologetics, and is also not particularly hurt by those arguments either. If one sought to embrace a fully logical, rational, faith perspective… what would it look like? Would it look like Christianity? To some people, I think it would. But for others… probably not. Consider a well-known issue— the nature of God. Historical Christianity is Trinitarian Monotheistic— one God, one substance, three persons. Two groups that find this utterly contradictory are Muslims (Unitarian Monotheistic) and Mormons (Tritheistic). Both groups have said that Christianity (historical, that is) is inherently contradictory. Muslims may say that 1 is logical. Mormons may say 3 is logical. Both would, I think, say that 3 in 1 is a contradiction. I would argue against this. There is nothing inherently contradictory to say that God is different from us. There is nothing contradictory to say that one can discern different characters/characteristics within God. I might even argue that if God sought to provide revelation to us, it seems reasonable that in so doing, we learn something about God beyond simply ineffability. As such, Islam to me doesn’t appear particularly logical. I might also argue that the fine-tuning of Universe does not give the appearance of being built by a committee (unlike Mormon’s view of many gods). In the end, however, each of us (Christian, Muslim, Mormon) is likely to go back to our own corners unimpressed by the other views, and undamaged in our own commitment to our respective faiths.
E. Mystery is good. God may know all things, but we aren’t God… or god, as far as that goes. If a person is presented with something that he or she cannot answer… what has one proven? That that person is not God. Not an impressive result. As Christians, we should never be “The Bible Answer Man.” My favorite answer in the seminary classroom is “I don’t know… but here are some thoughts. Don’t argue with someone who thinks they have all of the answers… and don’t be that person who thinks that they have all the answers.
But does this mean that presuppositional apologetics is indeed a waste of time? Not really.
#1. It is important to know merely know what a person believes, says, and does, it is helpful to know the why and where of their faith. There may or may not be value in studying other religions. There is, however, absolute value in studying people… and faith is part of people. If you want to reach someone, try, in part, to understand what they believe— not as a member of some theoretical group, but as an individual.
#2. The act of trying to stand in the shoes of the other person is a good thing. In Presuppositional Apologetics, this is not really done in good faith. And in some ways, I am not suggesting it be done in full good faith. One can, however, bracket one’s beliefs for a moment, to understand empathetically what it means to see the world through another’s eyes.
I think that if one tries honestly to embrace these two aspects of Presuppositional apologetics, one is well on the way to positively impacting the other person.
So, I do NOT think that Presuppositional Apologetics is a really bad thing. There are good aspects of it. Of course, if one does the good aspects correctly, one is in key ways NOT doing this type of apologetics.
June 20, 2024
It is Never JUST CAKE. An Inter-religious Reflection
Many years ago, before I went into Missions… I worked at a manufacturing firm as a mechanical engineer. I had a friend who was JW (a member of the Jehovah’s Witness faith). He had tried to convert me— he was a Pioneer, which meant that he was supposed to commit a certain number of hours a month to evangelizing for his faith. I will admit that many of my colleagues (and sometimes myself included) found him to be a little lazy and prone to cutting corners. Now, having looked into the hours that were supposed to be given to being a Pioneer, and the JW tendency to not honor work that is not directly associated to their mission, I understand that what we saw as laziness was a religious battle in him regarding time and priorities.
We had some interesting religious discussions over the years. However, one of the last (or maybe the last) real conversation that related to faith before he left the company struck me.
In the Engineering Department where we worked, the head secretary would always buy a cake when it was someone’s birthday. Then there would be an announcement that everyone was welcome to come down to her office, to get some cake in celebration for someone’s birthday. We would grab some, perhaps wish that someone a happy birthday, or not, and then scurry back to our own little cubicles to get a quick sugar rush before getting back to work.
On this particular day, my friend (I will call him Ricky although that is not his name) said to me, “Bob, you know I am struggling with this. The cake… well, there is really no party. One just goes by there and takes a bit of cake. They may call it a birthday cake… but I mean, it is just sitting there and one can take a bit and go. It doesn’t really mean anything thing, does it? I am saying this to you because you would understand.”
And I did understand. He was having a ethical struggle. JWs hold that birthday celebrations are “Pagan,” and so participation in such celebrations are sinful… forbidden. Ricky, however, was wondering where the line was. There is really no celebration per se. There is just a cake that one can take a piece of or not. If someone happens to call it a “birthday cake” does that suddenly make it “Pagan?”
It is kind of like that issue in the New Testament of meat sacrificed to idols? If meat is sacrificed to pagan idols but one does not know that it was, did one do something wrong? St. Paul would say “No.” Paul, in fact, seemed to embrace an early version of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. But if one suddenly finds out that it was sacrificed to idols… now one has a bit of an issue. What if there is a young believer who struggles with how to relate to the pagan gods in society? Would he misunderstand… would he be confused… would he have his conscience pricked? But suppose one did believe that knowingly eating meat sacrificed to idols is wrong… does it suddenly become wrong just because someone says so? What if someone lied? What if it wasn’t sacrificed to idols at all. If I ate meat that I knew was sacrificed to idols, would that be morally different than if I ate meat that I mistakenly THOUGHT was sacrificed to idols. Actually, one could spend all day looking at all of the possibilities.
Getting back to Ricky. How could I have responded.
#1. I could say, “Ricky. Lighten up. It is just cake!” But that does not help. For him it is not just cake… it is about trying to live a life pure before Jehovah. He fears that Jehovah is looking down on him to see whether or not he partakes of a pagan ritual. He said I would understand NOT because I would agree with him (Pagans have never had that great of power over God’s own) but because I would never step all over his beliefs by either attacking them or trivializing them. Considering a slightly different case, if I had a friend who chose to be bound by dietary ethics, and was worried about whether the cake was fully plant-based and cruelty-free, or whether all steps in production is done without exploitation, or unnecessary pollution, just because I don’t share those concerns, does in no way negate the fact that it is important (perhaps even critical) in that person.
#2. I can’t remember exactly what I said… and I don’t want to put words into my 24 year ago self. However, I believe I said something vaguely supportive. I think it was something like this. “Yeah Ricky. I think you have a point. It was bought for someone’s birthday, but it is really not a celebration. It’s a cake sitting on a desk at work. I will respect whatever you decide to do.”
I think that Ricky did not share his struggle with me ONLY because I was a (fairly) devout Christian and so I would be one who could relate to ethical struggles. I would like to think that he also saw me as one who would not belittle him for his beliefs— even if I don’t share them. I also would like to think that he saw in me someone who would not judge him for being either legalistic or libertine— excessively strict, or ethically weak.
In faith, and life in general, little things can often loom important— even vital. When talking to a person of another faith— respect them and respect their struggle.
It is never just cake.
June 18, 2024
Interdisciplinary Apologetics
I have been reading a long paper (over 200 pages long when including endnotes)— APOLOGETICS, MISSION & NEW RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS: A HOLISTIC APPROACH, by Philip Johnson. It is in Sacred Tribes Journal, Vol. 1, #1.
I must admit that I would have preferred a “Reader’s Digest” version of it, but it is excellent. I had written before that I found his speaking of the Heresy-Rationalist Model of Apologetics. Johnson notes some of the strengths of this model, but also some of its weaknesses. A couple of weaknesses really struck me:
#1. While apologetics of this form often claims to be evangelistic, often it devolves into boundary setting or boundary guarding. That is, it doesn’t reach out to people of other faiths. Rather it tries to define Us versus Them. This is probably very much tied to the second reason.
#2. Apologetics of this type tend to be the specialization of theologians— or more specifically, systematic theologians. Such theologians like to focus on the abstract and in establishing taxonomies of doctrine. Apologetics does not typically draw people to the Christian faith, because those who specialize in it have a very different agenda (even if they don’t know it.).
Johnson described what he called a holistic approach. I am going to call it an interdisciplinary approach (he used this terminology as well). In section 7, Johnson notes the importance of people in apologetics who are trained and skilled in pastoral care and pastoral theology. They are needed to reach out with empathy and concern for those who are struggling with faith and religious culture. Counter-cult experts often are better at traumatizing those who are in a crisis of faith rather than “curing the soul.”
Additionally, Johnson notes the importance of a missiological focus in apologetics. In my book, Dialogue in Diversity, I note three broad interreligious dialogue— one is what I call the Apologetics models. These are typically of the Heresy-Rationalist variety. At the other end is the Common Ground models— which focus on mutual understanding, but without focus on truth and transformation. In between are Clarification models. This seeks common ground and contextualization, while still focusing on influencing the other. This seems to be what Johnson is getting at. He notes that apologists today rarely quote missiologists. I certainly don’t normally quote apologists. There is a wall of separation.
I remember talking to my friend about Paul in Athens. My friend thinks that Paul really messed up in Athens. For myself, despite the fact that I believe that Paul messed up a number of times in the New Testament record, I don’t believe Athens is one of them. Reading Philip Johnson, I see that my friend sees things through a heresy-rationalist lens. I see things through a missiological-contextual lens. I don’t think I am putting words into my friend’s mouth to suggest that he would want Paul to quote from the Bible even though the hearers would not consider it authoritative, ignore or repudiate pagan sources, and generally focus on differences. This is pretty good if one wants to show the men of the Areopagus to be wrong (at least in the eyes of any Christians that may happen to be there). However, it is unlikely short of the miraculous work of the Holy Spirit working against the method rather than with the method that the people of Mars Hill to be moved to change.
A missiologist will seek to understand the differences between the belief system of the other with himself (or herself) but only after truly seeking to understand their belief system, including areas of common ground. The missiologist would seek to interview people of that faith to understand what is practiced, not simply what is believed, and to understand how the range of belief differs from the “official beliefs” of the faith. The missiologist would deal with people rather than people groups.
Actually, on this last point, that may not be true. Missiologists have perhaps fallen too deep into the “people group” framework. Probably time to start stepping away from that. It is actually with the Pastoral theologians and pastoral care providers where one finds the focus being on the individual, connecting of individuals and groups, rather than abstract categories.
I must admit, I am not very interested in apologetics… at least not as it is commonly carried out. But if we can move it toward an interdisciplinary model— guided by principles of pastoral theology and missiology— it is possible that that there may be evangelistic and missional value in apologetics (something I thought I would never say).
Johnson notes that where there is some communication between apologetics and missiology, it is the interaction between apologetics and pastoral theology where there is much work to be done.
Prayerfully, that will soon change.
June 17, 2024
Christian Ministry: Priority without Duality. Part Two
If you haven’t yet, please read PART ONE first.
While tensions rose between more theologically liberal and pluralistic views of missions with more conservative and exclusive views, things hit a bit of a boiling point in the 1960s.
With the IMC becoming incorporated into the World Council of Churches, there was a rapid move away from evangelism or proselytism, and towards a sort of “presence” mission that identifies what is God or godly in a culture, rather than seeking to preach the gospel message of Christ.
Evangelicals such as Billy Graham, Peter Wagner, Ralph Winter, Donald McGavran, and others supported a mission organization like the IMC (or what was the IMC) but with a conservative focus on missions as proclamation. This, however, did bring into question the role of social ministry in missions. I have been told that Donald McGavran supported social ministry in missions— but at least up to now, I haven’t really seen evidence of this. Certainly, such a message did not seem to stand out in a time when many of the conservative missionaries and missiologists were pushing to identify missions in terms of spiritual ministry only. Some, like Ralph Winter, seemed to be seeking to take it even further, limiting the term missionary to those who were working where the gospel had not been heard or at least where the church is not firmly established.
I don’t think any of them would say that they were against social ministry per se (except those that used the dubious argument that “Christ was returning any day” as an argument that quick superficial projects were the way to go in missions. Most I think were like the people in my previous post who thought that good things would happen naturally (or supernaturally) to people and societies if they transformed by the gospel. As I noted before, however, if people are taught that A is important and B is not, it is likely that most will practice A and not B, and train up the next generation that A is important and not B. This view was shown in my previous post as—

The group that did the most, I think, to undermine this view were often the conservative missiological side of the Church of England. The Church of England was part of the World Council of Churches, and so these missiologists (like John Stott, Stephen Neill, Leslie Newbigin, and Max Warren) had one foot in the WCC and one in the conservative side that would eventually become the Lausanne Movement. (There were others like Ronald Sider who were not Anglican, were key in this as well.)
John Stott pushed strenuously for a more holistic view of missions. He used the analogy of the two blades of a pair of scissors or two wings on an aircraft. Ministry “cuts” or “flies” with both. It is foolish to say which is needed— both are needed. Perhaps one could show this as follows:

With this, Christian ministry is seen as BOTH spiritual and social. One is incomplete without the other.
But even if one accepts this, that still leaves an important question— which is more important, or which should be given priority. This, in my mind at least, is the tougher question. One quick answer is that it depends on what specific ministry one believes called to do. So if one believes one is called to be involved in community development, then the social side takes priority, while one involved in church planting may give spiritual ministry priority.
But is that a “cop out”? Many groups have sought to be vigorously spiritual AND social and gradually drifted towards one side of the other. Should that be accepted as normal?
Up to this point, although I have been giving my own opinion… I feel it stands up well to scrutiny. Explicitly spiritual ministry that is only implicitly social may be fine, but it is still at some level sub-biblical. The same could be said of the opposite, explicitly social ministry that is only implicitly spiritual. But where do we go from here? I feel that view can hold its own against those who hold one of the two alternative views.
For me, however, I do have a perspective on priority. I do believe that as a missionary, priority should be recognized, on some level at least, to spiritual ministry— or perhaps better stated, spiritual transformation. I believe this to be true based on a simple truth. Spiritual ministry that lacks a social component IS CHRISTIAN MINISTRY— even if it is in a sense sub-biblical. Social ministry that lacks a spiritual component, while in many ways good (it is always nice to be nice), may not necessarily be Christian ministry.
But if spiritual ministry has priority… it is priority with quotation marks around it. After all… spiritual transformation rarely occurs only through preaching, teaching, or arguing. People commonly can identify God’s love only if it is demonstrated to them through acts of kindness. Jesus healed the sick and cast out demons for (at least) two reasons— compassion for the people, and as a sign of his Messiahship. Both of these were key to spiritual transformation. Is is even correct to say that meeting their physical or psychoemotional needs is not a spiritual ministry. A little exercise I have given my students in the past was to read Luke 10 and the instructions given for the disciples to go out two-by-two to minister. I asked them to decide whether each of these instructions had a spiritual or a social purpose. In most cases, it is not clear whether it is one or the other or both. For example, was the instruction not to bring money with them a spiritual instruction… ensuring that they place their trust in God? Or maybe it was a social instruction… forcing them to interact with the people as a guest cared for by their hosts?
I do believe that spiritual officially has priority over social… but social is so important to the carrying out of spiritual ministry that it is somewhat problematic to speak of priority. Additionally, there is no clear line between social and spiritual. Finally, the two support each other— social supports spiritual ministry and spiritual supports social— so it is best not to think of them as wholly separate things. Perhaps it could bw shown as follows:

I guess as one final thought— if a social ministry is seen to slow down spiritual ministry, I would suggest that the spiritual ministry is meant to go slower. As I noted in my previous post, I don’t see speed as being a virtue in Christian ministry. Meeting physical and other social needs is a clear Biblically-identified virtue.
June 16, 2024
Christian Ministry: Priority without Duality. Part One
It has been a long argument in Evangelical circles about how to relate “spiritual” ministries and “social” ministries.
For centuries the two seemed to have a relatively peaceful (even if, perhaps, unexamined) coexistence. The church is supposed to deal with the spiritual needs of its community, AS WELL AS the physical, relational, and often economic needs. There were many problems over the centuries for sure, but it seems like it was simply understood that the church cannot just be the distributor of sacrament and homilies. It must be intertwined with the broader human and social fabric of a community.
One of the problems comes exactly from the broadness of the mandate of the church. If the church has a role in so many aspects of society, there is the potential of having a great deal of power or control over society. To some, this may seem like a wonderful thing— a theocracy or sorts. However, in practice, a theocracy is nothing of the sort. It is power located in the hands of a few religious, and very human, leaders— a “hierocracy.” Such power over spiritual and social affairs pretty inevitably to corruption. In religion, much like in politics in general, it is often the people who seek power who are least to be trusted with that power. This has not changed over time because people haven’t really changed.
Later on, as we move into 18th and 19th centuries, we see the growth of secular governments, such as the United States and France, as well as “free churches”— religious bodies that reject the concept of the State Church (or the Church-State)— new concerns arose. Social and Spiritual care were both supported but now is a question of what are the boundaries of church ministry. Things are somewhat easier to define where there are no boundaries. But well-defined boundaries lead to healthy relationships. While I think this is a good thing, as soon as one says that there is an acceptance that some boundaries are good… one must wonder what things are the under the purview of the church and what is not. For example, if being a member of the church and being a member of the state are no longer equivalent, baptismal records can no longer be seen as the only documentation for birth in a government’s jurisdiction. The church, likewise, cannot be the only place for documenting marriages. And as social welfare becomes identified as a role of the civil government, where does the church fit into this new landscape?
With the growth of the Social Gospel Movement in the early 20th century, and Hocking’s “Laymen’s Report” in 1925, there was a move with churches both locally and missionally to address this issue. At its most extreme, the result is like the following:

Christian ministry is essentially social ministry. There are some things that might be considered spiritual ministry, but they are ill-defined and still defined mostly within the context of serving God through social work. Essentially, spiritual ministry is implicit to doing explicit social ministry.
There was a fundamentalist revolt against this. It took some different forms. One form is a Spiritualist perspective. In it, REAL ministry is spiritual ministry. Social ministry something else… most commonly a distraction. I recall a book I read on churchplanting movements (CPM) where the question of social ministry was brought up. The writers recommended against doing social ministry since it would “slow down” church planting. Personally, I see NOTHING in the Bible to suggest that speed is a command of God, or even seen as a virtue. However, one of the keys for CPM is Rapid Seed Sowing, so if one thinks that CPM is a good thing, perhaps one could argue that social ministry is bad. Maybe. We can explore that more later.
Perhaps a more common attitude is that Social ministry is implicit in Spiritual ministry. I don’t have the quote in front of me, but I recall Billy Graham expressing the belief that the way to transform society and cure social evils is spiritual transformation. If enough people pray to receive Christ, social problems will start to fade away. I have heard others defend this— often with anecdotes. Zaccheus was spiritually transformed and immediately wanted to act in an economically benevolent way, righting matters of social injustice. That is not a very good case however, since Jesus regularly modeled social ministry, and preached social justice (along with his more explicitly spiritual message regarding the Kingdom of God).
However, generally, I don’t think this works all that often. Part of the problem is that you reap what you plant. If you are an evangelist or church planter who does not express concern about social or economic injustice, or physical, relational, or psychoemotional health of those around him, he is likely to develop Christians who do not express that concern. If Christians are taught that things don’t matter as to what is happening around, because Jesus is returning ‘any day’ and will fix everything that is wrong, people are going to start believing that, even if the Bible makes it clear that we are to care about those exact concerns. I have a friend who is a Bible study leader. He does a good job in that role. But often it gets funny. When someone in the group mentions something about how it is good to do good things for others, he was almost invariably go into a mini-sermon on how we are saved by faith and not by works. Of course, the comment had nothing to do about salvation. My friend, however, is so focused on the spiritual aspect (conversion to Christ) that anything that is seen as a lesser concern is minimized, nearly out of existence.
This perspective could be seen in the following figure:

Christian ministry is essentially spiritual. However, in response to spiritual transformation it is hoped that social evils will, at least to some extent, be addressed.
This is enough for now. Part II will continue this reflection.
June 12, 2024
“Heresy-Rationalist” Apologetics. Quote from Philip Johnson
Philip Johnson speaks of a couple of forms of Christian Apologetics. One of them he describes as the “Heresy-Rationalist” Model. I will just use “HRM” for it. This model focuses on the accepted dogma from a logical (rationalist) perspective. While Johnson sees value in this model, he also sees its limitations. Here are a couple.
#1. HRM tends to be unconvincing because it puts the beliefs and thoughts of one religion into the framework and concepts of another. If Religion A has its beliefs evaluated by the concepts of Religion B, what would the result be? Well, adherents to Religion B are likely to say, “Wow! Religion A is really messed up!! I am so glad that I am not so stupid as to believe that.” On the other hand, adherents to Religion A are likely to say, “That doesn’t sound like what I believe at all! They have distorted our faith.”
The following is a quote from Johnson,
Take it a step further. Suppose a Buddhist apologist sought to analyze evangelical beliefs, and charted our doctrines according to the categories of Buddhist belief: dukkha, tanha, nirodha, magga, anicca, anatta,
nirvana etc. The resulting portrait would be a strange one indeed precisely because the principle teachings of Buddhism address different questions, conceive of reality in a vastly different way, and operates under a different “cultural logic” from those we find in say the Westminster Confession or the Lausanne Covenant.
Now the same basic issue holds true for evangelical apologists who observe any non-Christian faith, including the new religions. If we intuit that an outsider will not have an adequate or comprehensive appreciation for what it is to be an evangelical Christian simply by reading doctrinal statements, or as in the hypothetical Buddhist’s chart of doctrinal comparisons, then we too must realize there are implications for the way we narrowly seek to understand any non-Christian faith. It is not enough for us to draw up a chart of what a non-Christian group is deemed to believe, especially when the criterion for classifying dogmas is organized on the sole basis of abstract contrasts with orthodox Christianity.
—Philip Johnson, “Apologetics, Mission & New Religous Movements: A Holistic Approach.” Sacred Tribes Journal. Vol. 1 #1 (2008), pg 40.
#2. Religious operate more from a mythical rather than doctrinal mode. In terms of Bloom’s Taxonomy, people are more in the Affective Domain than the Cognitive Domain. They feel their faith more than think it. This is not bad in itself. This is how people operate generally. Thomas Kuhn has noted that even scientists tend to do this when it comes to development of theories— theories that theoretically are developed, challenged, and modified empirically through application of inductive and deductive reasoning. But when I say, myth, I am not referring to myth in terms of truth or falsity, but in terms of culture and story. HRM does little to challenge where religions actually operate in people’s lives.
Irving Hexham and Karla Poewe have discussed the importance of mythological thinking in new religions.
They define myth as:
“a story with culturally formative power. This definition emphasizes that a myth is essentially a story – any story – that affects the way people live. Contrary to many writers, we do not believe that a myth
is necessarily unhistorical. In itself a story that becomes a myth can be true or false, historical or unhistorical, fact or fiction. What is important is not the story itself but the function it serves in the life of
an individual, a group, or a whole society. Myths are stories that serve specific social functions. They enable members of different societies and subgroups within societies to understand themselves
and their world.”
–The quote in this broader quote is from Irving Hexham & Karla Poewe, New Religions as Global Cultures: Making the Human Sacred, Boulder CO: Westview Press, 1997, 81.
Mormonism is a good case study of this, (and the one that was being addressed in the paper at that time) but most if not all religions (and probably ideologies in general) operate mythically more than logically. Returning to Mormonism, however, I recall reading an article by a Mormon women. She described how as a young person she did her missionary service and told people so many things. Then years later, she found out that much of what she taught has been shown to be untrue— not even in terms of untrue by non-Mormons, but even untrue by Mormon scholarship. She listed all of the things that she believed before only to be found untrue. The list was quite impressive, and I would wonder if that would be enough to cause a crisis of faith. In actuality, it sounded like it did— but not a change of faith. The story ended with what I would be tempted to describe as an emotional shrug, and commitment to a faith that she holds onto with emotional strength even though with much less intellectual confidence.
Johnson lists other concerns with HRM, especially the tendency of some to have lack of rigor or intellectual honesty in their work. Does this mean that HRM is useless? Nnnnnooooo…. I guess. I think there is a need to understand other faiths… and one simply cannot rely on the adherents of other faiths as the only source for such understanding. Much like studying a culture (and Johnson does recommend in some cases to look at other faiths more as a ‘culture’ than ‘cult.’) one gains a more nuanced picture from connecting to both insider and outsider perspectives. The insider should be knowledgeable, articulate, and experienced. The outsider should be knowledgeable, articulate, … and fair.
Johnson speaks of five other “models” used by counter-cult apologists. These are:
–End-Times Prophecy & Conspiracies
–Spiritual Warfare
–Apostate Testimonies
–Cultural Apologetics
–Behavioralist Apologetics
I am still reading through this LONG article so I cannot speak to these yet. Hopefully later.
June 11, 2024
Sermon: It Won’t Be the First Stone (I Samuel 17)
I would like to share with you one of the great mysteries in the Bible.
I Samuel 17: 38-39, 48-49
“I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off. 40 Then he took his staff in his hand, chose five smooth stones from the stream, put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag and, with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine.
….
As I am sure you know, this is two snippets from the story of David and Goliath. David tries on the armor, puts on the helmet, and fastens the sword over his tunic, tries them out. They just don’t work. He wasn’t used to them. Instead he takes his sling and his staff gathers five stones from a stream. He runs out to the battle, takes a stone out of his pouch, launches it at Goliath, and kills him.
This is an amazing story of how a young man, David, with a sling and five stones, and don’t forget the staff, killed a giant of a soldier. And he did it with only one stone. But here is the mystery— which stone was it? Was it the first? Second? Third… fourth? Maybe it was the fifth one. We don’t know. But maybe we can logic it out.
Let’s think about some possibilities.
1. In terms of probability, each one is theoretically equally likely. Therefore, each has a 20% chance of hitting. Let me tell you this… I have used a sling before. In the artwork in Bible story books, they always show David using a sling over-head. Maybe that is the way he did it. I don’t know. From personal experience, that it is extremely difficult to aim that way. I would do it underhand. I suppose it could also be done overhand. Doing it this way, it is easy to control azimuth— moving towards the right or the left. But it is still hard to control height. Letting go of the strap even a fraction of a second early or late will affect the angle of release and the height it achieves. The overhead method I find even harder because you don’t have good control of either height oe azimuth. Maybe David was really really good with a sling. But clearly he knew he wasn’t perfect. That was why he chose five stones… not just one.
2. From a ballistics standpoint, the ideal stone would be the third stone. One of the odd jobs I had long ago was that I was a gunnery director officer. Our ship had Mark 42 gun. This gun used shells that weighed about 30 kilograms. We would fire at a target. My job was to spot where the shell hit and give guidance to the gunnery crew on how to adjust the gun so that the shell hit the target. I did this by bracketing. So if the first shell was long, I would intentionally adjust so that the next one would be short. Now the target was bracketed, and it was relatively easy to then adjust and hit it on the third shot. So maybe David did was able to bracket his shots to hit Goliath with the third stone.
3. From a storyteller’s point of view, the ideal shot is the fifth. It is a waste for a storyteller to leave any stones still in the bag. There is a principle called “Checkov’s Gun.” It states that if there is a gun in the first act of a play, it needs to be used in the third act. Remember, even though this is history, it is also a story— a story that people would tell their children and neighbors. The number of stones provides structure in the story where one can add details and build tension. Another good example of this is with Samson when his hair was cut. The story said that he had seven braids. One can imagine a storyteller sharing with a group. He may say, “Now Samson was sleeping, and the Philistines snuck into his room. They were so quiet because the Spirit of the Lord was mighty upon him. Samson’s hair was in seven braids. Carefully, so carefully they began to cut his braids. Samson took light his Nazarite vow and SNIP, the first braid was gone. Samson used God’s empowerument for selfish and fickle purposes— SNIP goes the second braid.” The story continues and builds until “Samson rejected Adonai, the Lord God of Israel— SNIP the final braid was gone and the Spirit of the Lord left him.”
Perhaps with David and Goliath, the storyteller used the stones to build tension. “David ran into the field of battle 15 meters from the giant he stopped. He put down his staff and reached into his shepherd’s pouch and pulled out a smooth round stone. He placed the stone in his sling, set his feet swung the sling and launched the stone at Goliath…. But he released it too early. The stone hit the ground, skittering across the rocks and settling near the feet of his enemy. Goliath laughed. David quickly reached into his bag. He found another stone… not as good as the first stone— not as round but still good. Again he set his feet and launched it. This one drifted right missing him by inches. The third stone was far from the mark, but the fourth hit Goliath straight in the middle of his chest. It made a small divet in Goliath’s armor. He laughed and bellowed, “Is that the best you got, boy?!” He started to move forward as David reached into his bag and pulled out the worst stone. While hard and smooth, it was far from round, likely to fly off-course. Still David put it into his sling, whispered an impassioned plea to God and launched it at the giant with all of his strength. The stone flew true and embedded itself in Goliath’s forehead. With that the great man fell, never again to arise.”
That would be one way… but just because the storyteller might say it that way does not necessarily mean that this is how it happened. For me, I would like to think David hit his target with the fourth stone. I don’t think it would be the first stone, but I would I feel the panic I imagine that David might feel if he got down to his final stone. For me the fourth seems about right. Here, is some of my thinking on this.
#1 God rarely gives us success with the first stone—
1A. Success with the first stone may lead us to think it is all about us. We are prone to hubris— or ungodly pride. Proverbs says that Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall. And that is so true. It is not just with war heroes. Christian ministers can fall for the trap of thinking that our success is all about us. Maybe we put our name on every ministry we are involved in. Go around as celebrity ministers. Or perhaps run for president, or start calling ourselves the appointed Son of God. We ALL need a few failures in life for our moral and psychological health.
1B. Success with the first stone may lead us to think it is all about the stone. Stones are not all the same. A good stone should be as close to spherical as possible… as smooth as possible, and as dense as possible, and lacking in defects that might cause it to shatter. Certainly David would choose what he thought was best for the bag. And he would choose the best of the best as his first stone. He might think that it was that stone that brought the success.
In Christian ministry, we can also fall in love with the first stone and think that it was the secret of our success. Write books and lead seminars how we have found the secret and blame others for not being as visionary as us.
1C. Success with the first stone means we have less opportunity to learn and grow. When things are good the first time, we tend to be believe we have nothing more to learn. It is our nature. When things go wrong… we are fully focused on learning and improving. 17 years ago, the first time I was the team leader for a medical mission, in Kapangan, I left one quarter of the team in the wrong village almost sabotaging the second mission site. In the end, things came together and it was a successful trip. I can assure you, however, that I did not come back from the trip thinking I had nothing to learn.
1D. Failing with the first stone helps us rely on God more. I am sure that David prayed as he prepared to use his first stone. But I am confident in saying that he was REALLY praying by the time he got to the fourth stone. He understood that he could not depend on his skill… he could not depend on the stone he chose. He could only depend on God.
#2. You don’t know which stone will work.
David trusted God that He is benevolent and will care for His people, but David did not know which stone would work. In fact, he did not even know if any of the stones would work. That was why he also brought his staff out there with him. He was prepared to go against Goliath’s spear and sword with a stick. Even before this, he tried on King Saul’s armor, helmet and sword. According the text, he rejected them… not because of faith that they were not needed, but because he thought they would be of no help since he was unpracticed with them.
You don’t know which stone will work for you either. You don’t know what courses here at seminary will prove key in developing you for what God has for you. In fact, you don’t know what God has for you. If someone asks you— what is your sense of calling— what do expect you will be doing 5 years from now, let me give you a good answer… free of charge. You should say, “I expect to be surprised.”
#3. It is not a lack of faith to have multiple stones.
Some would say that having a back-up plan, a plan B, contingencies is a lack of faith. Some believe that if you have an outdoor activity, having a rainy day venue as an alternative demonstrates lack of faith. Faith that you can control God is not the same as having faith in God. Faith that you fully understand the mind and the will of God is not the same as having faith in God. I am reminded of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego when threatened with the fiery furnace, say to the king… our God can save us even from this fiery furnace. But even if He doesn’t we will still not bow down to the golden image. That is faith in God not in their ability to control God or know His will.
#4. God will give you a chance to use the second stone. God wants you to learn and grow… so have a second stone with you. If you do, and you mess up with the first one, don’t worry. God will give you another chance. God is the God of the second stone, God is the God of the third stone… and the fourth. Maybe even the fifth stone. So be prepared.
So I don’t think we solved the mystery of which stone killed Goliath. But I hope there was value in trying to figure that out together.
June 10, 2024
Hope Versus Optimism
Sometime back, I had written a post called “The Hopeful Optimist.” It is AVAILABLE HERE. I have always liked the article. However, I wish I had seen the following quote, before I wrote it.
Hope is by no means the exclusive preserve of religious people or the Christian community, but a universal phenomenon. As a reaction to the challenges and difficulties of life, hope exists at a pre-reflective level of human awareness and activity. Hope, as some theologians have rightly pointed out, belongs to the very essence of the human condition, and is the presupposition and motivation of everything we do. As an “outlook and attitude that influences and shapes and colours all human experiences and activities,” hope is thus essential for human flourishing. In order to attain a proper understanding of hope, a distinction must be made between hope and optimism. Optimism is the naïve and blind acquiescence to the principle of human progress that ignores the ambiguities of our world and the ubiquity of pain, suffering, and evil. Optimism refuses to acknowledge the vulnerability of the human enterprise, preferring to embrace a triumphalism that has lost touch with reality. Hope, in contrast, confronts the world as it is: it embraces a stark realism, struggles with the ambiguity of life, and “responds to it by taking up a particular posture of imagining new possibilities and other alternatives, inspired by the pulses of human experience.”
“Eschatology and Hope in Asia” by Roland Chia. In Asian Christian Theology: Evangelical Perspectives, edited by Gener, Timoteo D.; Pardue, Stephen T.. (pp. 168-169). Langham Creative Projects. Kindle Edition.
Missions is a Often a Dead-end Job… Thankfully
The title above doesn’t always apply… but often does. Usually does, I think.
A missionary, as noted by others, is a person who works himself out of a job. He (I am going to use “he” although missions is one of the most egalitarian roles in Evangelical Christianity, so feel free to substitute “she” or “they” if you want) does a job training up local people to do the work so that he is no longer needed. Then he moves to another place and repeats the process. Alternatively, he may stay in one location and people come to him and he trains them up. This is still a repetitive process where there is little of what one might call “advancement.” In some large mission organizations, one may move to being a team leader or mobilizer, or a regional director. This might be seen as professional advancement. At the same time that advancement is very niche. I have talked with missionaries who have served many years in the field. Several have noted how their work in ministry in the field is given almost no recognition back home. Often they go back home where if they want to serve in ministry, they start at the bottom.
I recall talking to a retired missionary who had been one of the top, perhaps the top, missionary of his denomination in a country with LOTS of missionaries. He noted that he was considered a bit of a celebrity in the country where he served… but back in the United States, he was “nothing.” That might be strongly put, but I have known enough others who have returned to the US or Australia or England and who had similar stories.
For me, a few years ago, our family suddenly lost most of our financial support to serve overseas. I really did not want to go back. I believed what I was doing was valuable, but I also wanted to support our family. I was teaching missions in a seminary in the Philippines, so I was looking if I could teach missions in a seminary in the United States. I quickly had a rude awakening (although I had actually been warned of this previously). I had a ThD, but in the US I was expected to have a PhD. The doctorate was not from one of the denomination’s premier in-country seminaries, but from a “developing world” school. I had written tons of training materials for students, missionaries, theologians and pastoral counselors in Asia, but had never once written for a peer reviewed journal, or a recognized publishing house (admittedly by choice). I had, at the time, served as a missionary in the field for 11 or 12 years, but I had never applied for research grants.
In other words, my qualifications for teaching missions was severely hampered by the fact that all of my training and work was in, and for, the mission field.
But… you know…. that is not that bad of a thing.
The fact drove me to make the decision to stay in the mission field and trust God to provide for our family. And He did. (I am not trying to universalize my situation… many missionaries do feel the need to go home, and I have no reason to think they were in error for doing so). But if being a missionary made one super-employable back home… I expect that it would be a rather unhealthy lure for many who should stay where they are.
Additionally, I would like to talk a bit about my own unique situation in teaching missions in the mission field. There are many advantages for being in this situation. But I must note that it is a dead end position in some ways. I am mission faculty and as such, there really is not upward mobility. The seminary, understandably, wants to be led by locals rather than foreigners. At one time, the seminary was exclusively run by foreigners… but thankfully, that has changed. There is much good in this. There are good things teaching in this setting.
#1. I am evaluated by my ability to teach, supervise, and serve as a missionary. This is in contrast to being judged by grant money and publishing. (I still remember attending my first day in the Department of Mechanical Engineering at the State University of New York at Buffalo. The dean was introducing the faculty. For each faculty member he shared three bits of information— Name, Specialization, and how much research money the person has brought into the department. Would you like to guess what the department’s focus was?)
#2. I am expected to invest my time with my students, and support their holistic development. Research in study are encouraged but not a substitute for developing the next generation of ministers in Asia. (I also remember trying to go to my assigned faculty supervisor at SUNY. After a couple of attempts and being told just to “talk to the department secretary” I reaslized that my supervisor was useless— only giving time to his masters and doctoral students.)
#3. I am encouraged to publish… but if I don’t that is not really a problem. I am not encouraged to get my name put on the work of my students. Actually, the biggest thing that I am evaluated for by the Board of Trustees is the counseling center that my wife and I co-lead. Essentially, how I transform lives as an educator and a missions minister are the key areas of interest in the seminary. Right now, I have been given a side task of overseeing research and creative writing at our seminary, so my job is to help to empower such publishing— but again, this is encouraged, but does not drive hiring or retention.
I have heard so many in academia around the world express their distaste for the politics, finances, and pressure of the academic grind. While I am pretty busy, and sometimes pretty worn out, I love the fact that what I feel passion to do is what I am being asked and expected to do. The activity I like the least at seminary is the annual “SportsFest”— but it is the “cross I must bear”. (Half joking)
I am almost 59 (strange… I don’t feel a day over 57) and there really is no higher positions in my job track. I will be where I am until I hand off my roles to others. Then I retire (or “retire”— we shall see). I hope that many of you in ministry will have the opportunity to have a ministerial dead-end job as well.
June 6, 2024
Maybe Ethnic Religions Do Make Sense…
When studying religions, one simple classification is between “Universal Religions” and “Ethnic Religions.” There are religious perspectives that don’t clearly fit into either, but these two are useful categories.
Universal religions are a system to identifies with all people. As such, there is an evangelistic component normally. Ethnic religions, on the other hand, identify with a specific people group or governance. As such, there is a low evangelistic component. In some such groups, it may even be forbidden for outsiders to become part of it.
Not all religions fit clearly into these two, and there are many that sort of bridge the gap. Judaism was (and is) often seen as more as an ethnic religion. There are proselytes, and some members may even be somewhat evangelistic, but the efforts are rarely vigorous. Members of the Samarian Israelite faith originally actively prevented outsiders from joining, but that has relaxed somewhat in recent years. Traditional mystery cults were not evangelistic as this is commonly pictured, but they were open to selective recruiting.
But I always struggled with ethnic religions. For me, I tend to think about religions as answering the great questions of life. Who am I? Why am I here? What is our future? Do I need to be saved/rescued, and if so, how? These are universal questions. For me, then, if they give answers to universal questions, then the answers should be universal answers. And if that, how could adherents to that faith be comfortable about keeping those answers to themselves only.
I kind of knew the answer, but reading Nijay Gupta’s book, “Strange Religion,” he looked at Christianity through the lens of Roman State Religion (I suppose I could use “RSR”) for short. Gupta notes that RSR was not so much about faith, or about beliefs. It also, generally, was not about ethics, or a relationship with the divine. The two PRIMARY functions for RSR was:
Pax Deorum. This is Latin for “peace with the gods.” Rituals and sacrifices were done, first of all, to maintain a peaceful coexistence with the supernatural world— the gods who can be benevolent or malevolent, depending on how well we treat them. Magic. We are not talking about legerdemain here, we are talking about doing things so that we can manipulate supernatural beings or forces to work for us. Rituals, sacrifices, amulets, talismans, and more can be used to seek blessings, or to give curses.Suppose, you were a Roman, you are pretty sure you want everyone who lives within the borders of your empire to practice the rituals and sacrifices of RLR. You don’t care what people believe. You don’t care what people do particularly, as long as they do the bare minimum to appease the gods so that they support the peace, and strength of the empire. As such a Roman, you would have little interest in the German tribes, or the Parthians, sharing the same religion. In fact, you might not really want them to do that at all. If they are the enemy and they start doing things to curry favor from your gods, what if your gods start to support your enemy? Really, you want only people in your group to be the ones who know how to keep your gods happy— in fact, keep your gods as YOUR gods.
A similar things applies to magic. You want the special favor and the blessings of your gods to be on you, and your friends, and perhaps your countrymen. You certainly don’t want them to be helping out the enemy.
Christianity, while not, strictly speaking, wholly unique in its initial setting, was pretty revolutionary in the Roman Empire. Its view of religion tied to relational devotion to God, faith/belief, and addressing universal questions, with universal answers, put it into a place that unique place— in a world where religion was commonly FAR different.