Candour is an on-line journal for people in ministry in the Presbyt Church in NZ - I was editor of it years ago. Recently I was asked to submit an essay on hope in a climate of fear... here is what I came up with...
Fear: the enemy of hope that dances to death’s tune.
As I recall it, Alvin Tofler predicted in his 1970’s book Future Shock that fear and anxiety would be some of the by-products of our crazy fast-changing technological world, with people getting left behind because the future will come at them too fast. It looks like he was right… the proliferation of Prozac and other anti-depressants among people in the so-called developed world would suggest that depression and anxiety are part of the cost of change.
But I wonder if along with fear being a by-product of our peculiar society fear is also being used as a mechanism to manipulate people. Here are a few examples I can think of:
- the fear-mongering about a possible bird flu epidemic. A year or so ago we were ‘done for’ and people were stockpiling tamiflu pills, even though there was next to no evidence that those pills would be able to treat a virus that didn’t yet exist. Why the panic when there wasn’t anything we could do about it anyway?
- the projection of worse-case scenarios as actuality – we saw an example of this last month with President Bush announcing that inaction against Iran will likely result in nuclear holocaust. But more commonly we see this in the use of statistics as a way of projecting the future, and the results are almost always bleak. We even see these worse-case scenarios being used to provoke certain kinds of mission-action in the church. I find this use of statistics to predict the future of the church highly speculative and rather manipulative. A colleague listening to such stuff was reminded of a frequent comment from one of the characters in Dad’s Army who, speaking out of his congenital pessimism, would announce in almost every episode: “We’re doomed Captain Mannering.” Statistics are usually suggest we are doomed – and they get us all scrambling around in a dance of death . I think it was Lloyd Geering who suggested in the 1960’s that the last Presbyterian and Anglican would be meeting to close the door of the last church in the year 2000. Um… not quite, I like to think that God had another idea about that.
- fear of the enemy being used to stimulate nationalism and economic growth. This has been a consistent feature of the way successive United States administrations have behaved since World War II. As I understand it, from my geo-politics studies at university, the US has operated on a war economy since 1941… the economic growth from being almost constantly involved in warring has been astounding, and has, in the eyes of the powers that be, justified hideously large sums being used to manufacture the machinery and armaments of war, as well as popping up to the moon and back. Whether the enemy exists or not isn’t all that important – enemies can be created… (do you remember President Reagan invading Grenada?) Iraq is once such creation. The irony of the first Gulf War was that the missiles being directed at US aircraft by Iraqi forces were made in the US! It turns out that for many years Iraq had been supplied US arms as a buffer against Iran. While I am cautious about conspiracy theories, is it too much to imagine that the first President Bush deliberately left Iraq’s leadership intact for another day when it would be more convenient to invade? But then a problem emerged… there needed to be a reason to invade. Umm… what if we say that Iraq had Weapons of Mass Destruction? Now we are being told that Vietnam wasn’t so bad, but that it was the leaving of it that was a problem!
- the proliferation of end times theory as fact (the worst of these can be found in the hideous Left Behind novels), and the associated justification of violence, prejudice, intolerance, scape-goating and ignorance, as well as a laziness when it comes to attending to the tasks of making peace, caring for the environment, loving one’s neighbour, etc.
Of course there are many more examples, but what is most disturbing is the complicity of the church in this fear-mongering. I believe that hope is the attitude that Christians are called to exhibit in a fearful world that seems to bow to the triumph of death. Christian hope is not blind optimism or reality avoidance, but a living demonstration of there being a bigger story – a meta-narrative as some theologians describe it.
This big story is the narrative of God’s saving work in the world; the presence of the kingdom of God among us, yet still to come in its fullness; and a living into the reality of the victory of Christ over the powers of this world that seek to dominate us [see Colossians 2:13-15].
I believe that there is an explicit call for the people of God, who find themselves to be strangers in a strange land, to nevertheless live fearlessly, confidently and hopefully in God’s promises [Isaiah 43 etc].
It is our calling as the church of Jesus Christ to demonstrate to the fearful world that there is another way of seeing things for live this side of the incarnation, we live this side of the ministry of Jesus, we live this side of his death on the cross, we live this side of his resurrection and we live this side of his ascension. Thus we live hopefully, not fearfully. We live to the tune of life in its fullness and not to the march of death in all its fearfulness.
William Stringfellow, a lawyer and theologian, offered these words for the church in a world where the powers of fear and death seem to be reigning:
“In the face of death, live humanly. In the middle of chaos, celebrate the Word. Amidst babel… speak the truth. Confront the noise and verbiage and falsehood of death with the truth and potency and efficacy of the Word of God. Know the Word, teach the Word, nurture the Word, preach the Word, defend the Word, incarnate the Word, do the Word, live the Word. And more than that, in the Word of God, expose death and all death’s works and wiles, rebuke lies, cast out demons, exorcise, cleanse the possessed, raise those who are dead in mind and conscience.” [An Ethic for Christians and Other Aliens in a Strange Land 1973 p143]
20 September 2007
on Christian political parties
I've submitted the following letter to the editor of The Press in Christchurch...
Destiny & Future NZ
I believe that the gospel of Jesus Christ cannot be reduced to political slogans or a set of policies, thus the notion of Christian political parties bothers me.
Destiny/Future NZ say they want to put families first, bring ‘morals’ into the political arena, and that ‘life means life’ in relation to how we treat violent offenders. But how can this be done in a way that doesn’t a)marginalise people who don’t fit into traditional categories; b) look out for those who are different from those in the Christian party, and c) restore offenders to a meaningful life with the possibility of release being the incentive for the changes they make? Aren’t these also gospel imperatives?
Jesus associated with those who the religious powers of his day marginalised. He challenged those who tried to enshrine God into a set of laws. Jesus never formed a party, instead, he called them to account. Herein lies what Christians can offer in the political arena: a voice among the voices, influence, encouragement, a reminder of what is important, and a challenge when necessary.
I have a few friends in Parliament and a colleague standing for Council who are all Christians. They are good people who I trust to bring an important and necessary gospel-informed perspective to the debates of the day. But they are not there suggesting that the gospel can automatically be turned into policy nor are they saying that their perspective represents what it means to be Christian.
Destiny & Future NZ
I believe that the gospel of Jesus Christ cannot be reduced to political slogans or a set of policies, thus the notion of Christian political parties bothers me.
Destiny/Future NZ say they want to put families first, bring ‘morals’ into the political arena, and that ‘life means life’ in relation to how we treat violent offenders. But how can this be done in a way that doesn’t a)marginalise people who don’t fit into traditional categories; b) look out for those who are different from those in the Christian party, and c) restore offenders to a meaningful life with the possibility of release being the incentive for the changes they make? Aren’t these also gospel imperatives?
Jesus associated with those who the religious powers of his day marginalised. He challenged those who tried to enshrine God into a set of laws. Jesus never formed a party, instead, he called them to account. Herein lies what Christians can offer in the political arena: a voice among the voices, influence, encouragement, a reminder of what is important, and a challenge when necessary.
I have a few friends in Parliament and a colleague standing for Council who are all Christians. They are good people who I trust to bring an important and necessary gospel-informed perspective to the debates of the day. But they are not there suggesting that the gospel can automatically be turned into policy nor are they saying that their perspective represents what it means to be Christian.
14 September 2007
a story I'm thinking of using on Sunday
Christian counselor Dennis Linn tells this wonderful story about how his mind was changed about God. He describes how his image of God was like stern old Uncle George, that Good Old Uncle George was the sort of person that people respected the old fashioned way [raising arm and fist to indicate 'respect' by brute force]. Then he tells this story of how his mind was changed:
One day Hilda came to me crying because her son had tried to commit suicide for the fourth time. She told me that he was involved in prostitution, drug dealing and murder. She ended her list of her son's "big sins" with, "What bothers me most is that my son says he wants nothing to do with God. What will happen to my son if he commits suicide without repenting and wanting nothing to do with God?"
Since at the time my image of God was like Good Old Uncle George, I thought "God will probably send your son to hell." But I didn't want to tell Hilda that. I was glad that my ... training had taught me ... to [instead] ask ..., "What do you think?"
"Well," Hilda replied, "I think that when you die, you appear before the judgment seat of God. If you have lived a good life, God will send you to heaven. If you have lived a bad life, God will send you to hell." [In other words, Hilda's God punishes and rewards. Our image of God has changed much since Moses, has it?!] Sadly, she concluded, "Since my son has lived such a bad life, if he were to die without repenting, God would certainly send him to hell."
Although I tended to agree with her, I didn't want to say, "Right on, Hilda! Your son would probably be sent to hell." I was again grateful for my theological training which taught me a second strategy: when you don't know how to solve a theological problem, then let God solve it. So I said to Hilda, "Close your eyes. Imagine that you are sitting next to the judgment seat of God. Imagine also that your son has died with all these serious sins and without repenting. Your son has just arrived at the judgment seat of God. Squeeze my hand when you can imagine that."
A few minutes later Hilda squeezed my hand. She described to me the entire judgment scene. Then I asked her, "Hilda, how does your son feel?" Hilda answered, "My son feels so lonely and empty." I asked Hilda what she would do. She said, "I want to throw my arms around my son." She lifted her arms and began to cry as she imagined herself holding her son tightly.
Finally, when she had stopped crying, I asked her to look into God's eyes and watch what God wanted to do. God stepped down from the throne, and just as Hilda did, embraced Hilda's son. And the three of them, Hilda, her son, and God, cried together and held one another.
I was stunned. What Hilda taught me in those few minutes is the bottom line of healthy Christian spirituality: God loves us at least as much as the person who loves us the most.
[as told by Paul J. Nuechterlein in a stunning sermon I am going to have to borrow heavily from http://girardianlectionary.net/year_c/proper19c_1995_ser.htm]
One day Hilda came to me crying because her son had tried to commit suicide for the fourth time. She told me that he was involved in prostitution, drug dealing and murder. She ended her list of her son's "big sins" with, "What bothers me most is that my son says he wants nothing to do with God. What will happen to my son if he commits suicide without repenting and wanting nothing to do with God?"
Since at the time my image of God was like Good Old Uncle George, I thought "God will probably send your son to hell." But I didn't want to tell Hilda that. I was glad that my ... training had taught me ... to [instead] ask ..., "What do you think?"
"Well," Hilda replied, "I think that when you die, you appear before the judgment seat of God. If you have lived a good life, God will send you to heaven. If you have lived a bad life, God will send you to hell." [In other words, Hilda's God punishes and rewards. Our image of God has changed much since Moses, has it?!] Sadly, she concluded, "Since my son has lived such a bad life, if he were to die without repenting, God would certainly send him to hell."
Although I tended to agree with her, I didn't want to say, "Right on, Hilda! Your son would probably be sent to hell." I was again grateful for my theological training which taught me a second strategy: when you don't know how to solve a theological problem, then let God solve it. So I said to Hilda, "Close your eyes. Imagine that you are sitting next to the judgment seat of God. Imagine also that your son has died with all these serious sins and without repenting. Your son has just arrived at the judgment seat of God. Squeeze my hand when you can imagine that."
A few minutes later Hilda squeezed my hand. She described to me the entire judgment scene. Then I asked her, "Hilda, how does your son feel?" Hilda answered, "My son feels so lonely and empty." I asked Hilda what she would do. She said, "I want to throw my arms around my son." She lifted her arms and began to cry as she imagined herself holding her son tightly.
Finally, when she had stopped crying, I asked her to look into God's eyes and watch what God wanted to do. God stepped down from the throne, and just as Hilda did, embraced Hilda's son. And the three of them, Hilda, her son, and God, cried together and held one another.
I was stunned. What Hilda taught me in those few minutes is the bottom line of healthy Christian spirituality: God loves us at least as much as the person who loves us the most.
[as told by Paul J. Nuechterlein in a stunning sermon I am going to have to borrow heavily from http://girardianlectionary.net/year_c/proper19c_1995_ser.htm]
13 September 2007
fridge magnets
And while I'm at it here at St Stephen's we have a little mission to a village in Ethiopia where we help care for 60 elderly people with a modest amount of money, as well as helping the odd village with their water supply. This year as part of the mission report in our Annual Report we are including a fridge magnet for people to stick on their... fridges...
U2 communion thingee
In Christchurch we're working towards a kiwi version of the U2-charist worship service containing music by U2...
A group of us Presbyterians are holding it on 7 October (World Communion Sunday) at 5-45pm in the Hornby Community Presbyterian Church. I've tried to reproduce the poster for the blog...
Elections coming
I'm about to go and take a picture of my colleague Glenn Livingstone's billboard... he is standing for the local community board and the City Council... what is annoying is that he already has a moustache thus it is hard to deface the billboard - not that I have ever done that kind of things before but never before has it been a friend who I can make fun of in this way!
Before I go and get it here's a Leunig cartoon that kind of illustrates the path that politicians take... be careful Glenn! [source: The Age webpage]
Before I go and get it here's a Leunig cartoon that kind of illustrates the path that politicians take... be careful Glenn! [source: The Age webpage]
11 September 2007
Emerging from the wilderness
Not only have I not blogged since my return from Vanuatu, but I have been without the internet. Five weeks off-line has been ok actually.
The Vanuatu experience was fantastic - the highlight was the week at Talua Ministry College and the warmth of the people, their generosity and their searching questions. I also enjoyed the snorkelling opportunities.
The night-time dogs and early-morning roosters incited murderous thoughts, and the stolen passport was a bit of a problem but otherwise... it was great!
I am currently reading Chris Crump's story of her 18 years on Nguna Island near Efate where her husband Ken was a minister, doctor, dentist, farmer, mechanic, and whatever else, in the late 1930's to 50's. I knew Chris and Ken and know some of their family as well - the story is all the more interesting because of my trip.
My ten days have nothing on those years of commitment and at times great sacrifice, but it was good to be there and remember them and the many others who have served over the years in that lovely country, as well as make friends with the Meier's and Parkes who are serving over there at the moment.
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