Evolving–Original Sin and Death (Repost from Jun. 26, 2017)

This is the final installation on faith and science, as I've introduced the conversation and looked at what evolutionary science has found in the first post, and the second post looked at interpreting Genesis 1-11. I've been looking at some of the main arguments from the book Adam and the Genome by Dennis Venema (PhD in Genetics) and Scot McKnight (PhD in New Testament). Now, I want us to look at original sin, Romans 5, death, and some concluding thoughts.

Original Sin and Romans 5

If Adam and Eve weren’t historical people or weren’t the first human beings, then how then are we to understand the doctrine of original sin, which traditionally has said that human beings inherit a sinful nature that has been passed through the generations because of the disobedience of Adam and Eve as our first parents? McKnight reserves the final chapter of the book for addressing original sin and unpacking Romans 5:12-21, which is the passage St. Augustine used to formulate the doctrine. I include the English Standard Version of this text in full here:

Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned–for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not counted where there is no law. Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come. But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if many died through one man’s trespass, much more have the grace of God and the free gift by the grace of that one man Jesus Christ abounded for many. And the free gift is not like the result of that one mans’ sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ. Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.

McKnight argues that the doctrine of original sin was formed by Augustine, one of the doctors of the church, based on a mistranslation that Jerome made of 5:12. Jerome completed a translation of the Bible from the original Hebrew and Greek into Latin back in the early 400s, which became known as the Vulgate (a Latin word meaning "current" or "regularly used"). Jerome wasn’t always the best with his Greek. Jerome translated 5:12 as saying “in whom all sinned,” while the Greek says “because all sinned.” Notice in verse 12 that death spreads not because we are “in Adam,” but “because all sinned.” McKnight argues that what Paul is highlighting isn’t necessarily a hereditary sinfulness, but a participatory sinfulness. Just as Adam sinned in Genesis and death came into the world in the Genesis narrative, every single human being has followed the moral example of Adam and sinned, which is Paul’s main message in Romans 1-3.

If you assume we inherit sinfulness, then based on the text, with Jesus being set up as the antithesis to Adam, it seems logical to assume universalism as well, that all will inherit salvation. In verses 18-19, it says one act of disobedience led to condemnation for the many (which is a Jewish way of saying everyone), so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for the many. If we inherit Adam’s act apart from our will, then do we not also inherit Jesus’ act apart from our will? I think pretty much everyone agrees the Bible teaches not everyone will be saved, so it seems natural to interpret this as people not automatically inheriting condemnation because of the passing on of a sin nature. Rather, Adam is put forward as a representative of a disobedient humanity, because all of us sin. We are worthy of condemnation when we follow the example of Adam in Genesis and sin, and we receive grace, righteousness, and life from Jesus when we trust him in faith. These two are set up as examples of two different courses of life–Adam representing the life of disobedience to God (whom all of us follow in some way or another), while Jesus is the means of our salvation and the example of a holy life. Is Adam set up here as a historical person from whom we have inherited a sin nature? I find McKnight’s argument convincing that Paul is putting Adam forward here as an example of moral failure, the archetype and representative of all of us in our sinfulness, and that when we choose to sin, we follow Adam. In short, Paul is not teaching hereditary sinfulness predicated on a historical Adam, but a participatory sinfulness following the example of Adam in Gensis. You can see a briefer version of McKnight’s argument here, but the book is much fuller in detail, and I’m afraid what I’ve written doesn’t fully do McKnight justice. McKnight goes to great lengths to show that Adam was not understood in only one way throughout the history of interpretation. Read the book to get the full scope of his argument!

Death

Unless I didn’t see it, one of the big topics McKnight doesn’t address is death. I think that is a miss in the book. A pervasive biblical teaching is that sin leads to death. If we view Genesis 1-11 as mostly mythological in nature, then it’s tempting to interpret death only as a metaphor. However, I think we must say that the Bible gives a physical/biological dimension to sin and death as well.

Yes, it’s appropriate to give a wider meaning to death than just your heart ceasing to beat and breath no longer filling your lungs: Sin can bring about the death of innocence, the death of trust, the death of relationships. Sin can lead to the death of full personhood and dehumanization. Sin can even lead people to take life. Part of the work of Jesus is that he took the worst people and spirits controlled by sin and the power of death could throw at him. They worked to kill his reputation. They worked to kill his relationships with others–he was betrayed by one of his friends and his disciples fled. They worked to kill his sense of self by shaming, stripping, and mocking him. They worked to kill and disrupt his relationship with God, calling him a heretic, a sinner, and demonic. They worked to kill his comfort and quality of life, beating him and crucifying him. And finally, they physically killed him. The long biblical narrative is that sin brings death in the quality of our lives, our relationships, and our physical bodies. Jesus’ bodily death and bodily resurrection prevents us from interpreting death as only metaphorical or relational. To me, biological death seems inextricably tied up with the biblical picture of what sin and death is. Some aspect of physical death is implied as a consequence of sin and is something Jesus has overcome.

If creatures have been dying long before human beings ever showed up on the scene, then how are we to understand death theologically and biblically? Does the badness of death depend upon a historical Adam and Eve? Is death a natural thing God wove into our existence that he doesn’t prefer, a limitation to being human that God can lead us to overcome? Should we look at a primordial, Satanic fall as the true incursion of the badness of death in the world as some have interpreted Revelation 12:7-12? Is there a moment along the evolutionary timeline where human beings became morally responsible to God and a different significance was given to death? As you can see, I have questions concerning death in particular, and it seems there’s still room for biblical and theological development. If you’re aware of some good reflections on death from a theistic evolutionary perspective, by all means let me know. 

Conclusion

You can read the Bible in a way that makes the science and faith irreconcilable, or you can read it in a way that synchronizes them. Science isn't infallible, but when it's true to its method and has been confirmed repeatedly, we would be wise to heed it. After all, if you still prefer a young earth creation view,  you at least need to acknowledge that you pick and choose how you want science to interface with your worldview. You appreciate the advances in medicine, technology, convenience, conservation, etc. that result from the application of the same method that arrives at the theory of evolution, and yet reject that method when it challenges a particular interpretation you have of Scripture. Can you come up with a  convincing explanation for why you should have it both ways? 

When it comes to origins, I think science is helping us read our Bibles better, leading us to ponder more deeply just how God is at work in our world. As I've said throughout these blogs, I think there are good reasons for Christianity and science to be friends. You may or may not agree with me, and I acknowledge I could be wrong on several counts. But I hope we all will seek truth together and not settle for cheap answers. The faith and science conversation definitely isn’t settled, but I’m excited to see how it progresses as we grow in understanding of God and our world.

Evolving–Interpreting Genesis 1-11 (Repost from Jun. 22, 2017)

This is a continuation of my previous post concerning science and faith in light of reading the book Adam and the Genome by Dennis Venema and Scot McKnight. This has been a stimulating book by two scholars in their respective fields of Genetics and New Testament, and they both take an in-depth look at evolution and the Bible, working to see what sort of synthesis might come from the two. Both Venema and McKnight are connected with Biologos, an organization which promotes biblical Christianity and evolutionary creation. In this blog, I want to focus on some aspects of biblical interpretation that often come up in this conversation. What better place to begin than Genesis?

Genesis

Genesis 1-3 are some of the most important chapters of the Bible. By anyone’s estimation, if you were given the exercise of compiling the 50 most important chapters of Scripture, I’m sure these chapters would make just about everyone’s list. They tell us much about God and how he creates, human beings, gender and marriage, the created world, what’s wrong with the world, and God’s response to sin. The question is, how are we to interpret these passages, especially in light of the findings of science?

For any close reading of the Bible, we need to work to understand the genre of a particular text and the background out of which that text arose in order to best interpret it. First, genre. Let’s look at Psalm 22:12-13, which says “Many bulls encompass me; strong bulls of Bashan surround me; they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion.” Knowing that the genre of the Psalms is poetry makes me think that the psalmist isn’t giving a literal, historical account about an unfortunate instance where he was surrounded by bulls that gnashed their teeth at him, although I’m sure that’d be a great story to share at the town watering hole. Rather, he is using metaphor to tap into our emotions and carry us along with him, conveying a sense of fear, danger, and overwhelming odds against him. Genre makes a difference in whether I read this as a historical narrative or a poetic expression. A good question we should ask of any text of Scripture is what genre it is. Knowing the genre helps us know how best to interpret.

Second, background. A good example of background informing our understanding of a text would be women’s head coverings in 1 Corinthians 11, a passage that strikes many readers today as odd. In Craig Keener’s The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, he writes “Women’s hair was a common object of lust in antiquity, and in much of the eastern Mediterranean women were expected to cover their hair. To fail to cover their hair was thought to provoke male lust as a bathing suit is thought to provoke it in some cultures today” (p. 475). There also were tensions between women of different socio-economic statuses in regard to head coverings and hair styles. Knowing the background might help us understand a bit better what Paul was dealing with and the reasoning behind his arguments. It also can help us ask the interpretive question of whether women wearing head coverings is a transcultural command for all times and places or something Paul was dealing with in his context from which we can pull helpful principles to apply in conversations about propriety today, though we wouldn’t implement it in exactly the same way.

With genre and background in mind, let’s look at Genesis. 

The ancient Israelite concept of the cosmos was that there was a dome above the sky and pillars that were holding up the earth below. The earth is kind of like a flat disc, surrounded by water with some stuff above it. Whenever it rained, they thought God opened the floodgates (see Genesis 7:11; 2 Kings 7:2; Isaiah 24:18) and then shut them. Sheol was the holding place of the dead, not quite as developed in theology as what we think of as paradise or hell. The earth is held up by “pillars” or “foundations” (Psalm 18:7; 82:5). A good picture of how they viewed the world is in this image from Bible scholar John Walton:  

With this background in mind, it behooves us to ask: Would God deliver a 21st century science lesson about a big bang, the evolution of life over billions of years, bacteria and cellular development, common descent, a round earth, etc. to people who didn’t have the foggiest idea about electricity, atoms, germs, or the sun being the center of our solar system? It’d be gibberish to them.

As to genre, Genesis 1-11 seems to be in the same mold with other Ancient Near Eastern creation narratives that were around at the time. In chapter 6 of Adam and the Genome, McKnight shows that Genesis has similarities with other early works like The Epic of Gilgamesh, Atrahasis, and Enuma Elish, but it is different from them in some crucial aspects. This goes to show that God speaks to his people in ways they can understand, accommodating us in order to communicate critical truths to us, but also standing against some popular ideas in the air. So Genesis may not be a modern scientific account, but based on the worldview people had at the time, Genesis 1-3 articulates some of the most important things we can know about God, humanity, and the rest of the world. Let a brief summary of some key points suffice here:

God–God alone is the one supreme God and he is creator of all that exists. God creates by speaking and creates out of peace, not out of violence, unlike the other creation narratives. God wants to be in relationship with human beings and cares for his creation, unlike the gods of other creation narratives. God creates human beings with a purpose and is patient with a disobedient humanity, disciplining them for their mistakes but also tenderly caring for them.

People–People are God’s special creation, and both males and females made in his “image.” In the context of the time, idols were images that represented the presence of the divine, and kings would put up images of themselves throughout their empires to remind people of their rule. For human beings to be in the “image of God” probably means they are representations of God’s divine nature in some way and are meant “to rule over creation and to represent God to creation” (Venema & McKnight, 129). Humans are called to work the created world for it to develop and blossom; they bring out some of the latent potential within creation and are co-creators with God in this way. People are gendered, husband and wife are designed for a “one-flesh” union, are created with the potential for procreation, and are called to mutuality with each other (Ibid., 133). Humans are endowed with a measure of freedom and have the capacity to choose something other than God’s desires–we can step outside of our God-given boundaries, which is known as sin. Choosing contrary to God’s will ends up leading to shame, fear, blame, the damaging of relationships, and loving discipline from God in order to limit the spread of the consequences of sin.

Creation–The created world, plants, and animals are good. Human beings are supposed to rule over them like God does, with loving care, and to develop them. Human disobedience has led to damage and frustration in the rest of creation.

Do all of these points require a literal, historical interpretation of Genesis? I don’t think so. I prefer an allegorical interpretation of Genesis 1-3, that it is not a historical, factual, scientific account, but something that is still profoundly true. It is true in the same way that the psalmist saying he’s surrounded by bulls of Bashan in Psalm 22 isn’t a statement of historical fact, but a poetic way of engaging us with a feeling of being surrounded, in danger, and weak. It’s true in the same way that Jesus’ parables aren’t accounts of events that really happened, but are made-up stories that illustrate very important truths about God, human beings, and the created world. 

McKnight goes on to point out that one way of understanding Adam and Eve is that they are archetypes, or representatives, of all of humanity. Each of us was created for a purpose of spreading God’s reign in the world. All of us sin and go beyond our God-given boundaries. All of us need redemption from God in Jesus Christ. He further points out that Adam and Eve are also archetypes of the story of Israel. Let Israel be A.) and Adam and Eve be B.) in the following sentences. A.) The nation of Israel was specially chosen and created by God and given a purpose in Abraham to multiply and be a blessing to all peoples on earth. B.) Adam and Eve were specially created to be God’s image bearers and spread God’s reign. A.) Israel failed at their calling and broke their covenant with God. B.) Adam and Eve broke their covenant with God by eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. A.) Israel enters into exile by the Assyrians and Babylonians as a result of their disobedience B.) Adam and Eve enter into exile and are expelled from the Garden of Eden due to their disobedience. Finally, all humanity as well as the nation of Israel stand in need of redemption to fulfill their original calling. This paves the way for Jesus Christ to fulfill what it means to be truly human and live into the image of God, as well as to fulfill God’s covenant calling for Israel. Jesus Christ is the perfect human being and the perfect Israelite, and he makes a way for all humanity to be restored back into God’s original purpose and to fulfill God’s covenant with Israel through the New Israel, the church.

I know treating parts of the Bible as myth or allegory can be very dangerous and can even lead to denying the substance of the Christian faith if we’re not careful. An essential aspect of Christianity is that God has been active in history, that he did and still does stuff in the real world. It isn’t all psychologizing, or that we should live as though Christianity is true, even though we know it really isn’t. If Jesus’ death and resurrection is just a myth and didn’t happen in real time and space, then Paul says we are to be pitied more than all people, we are still in our sins, and our faith is useless (1 Cor. 15:12-19). God is the God of history and a God who acts in history. I’ve even experienced that up close and personal in my own life and have heard it time and again in other people’s stories–God is alive and active and working in our world. Still, I think we have good reasons to treat Genesis 1-11 as being mythological (in the best sense of that word)–the findings of evolutionary science are showing us that Genesis 1-11 is not history. There are some biblical scholars who start interpreting Genesis as a historical account once chapter 12 starts and we get to Abram. For a take on Noah and the flood narrative, see this article. I fully acknowledge I could be wrong, and I welcome feedback and further instruction if you think otherwise. But I’d rather be wrong in a genuine pursuit of truth than being too afraid to explore real questions.

Further, if we want to interpret Genesis 1-3 as a strictly historical, scientific account for how everything came to be, we bump into problems. In Genesis 1-3, we have two creation narratives set side by side; Genesis 1:1-2:3 is the first narrative, and the second narrative starts at 2:4. In Genesis 1, God creates the trees (1:11-13), then later sea creatures and birds (1:20-23), then the animals (1:24-25), and lastly he creates humans (1:26-31). In our second creation narrative in Genesis 2:4, however, God creates the man first (2:7), then he creates the trees (2:8-9), and then in 2:19 he creates the animals and brings them before the man to name them. The Hebrew word yatsar in 2:19 is past tense (formed), not pluperfect (had formed) like some translations make it in an attempt to smooth over the differences between the accounts (Ibid., 102). If God meant for us to read Genesis 1-3 literally, then couldn’t God at least get the chronological order right between the two narratives? Further, where on earth did Cain’s and Seth’s wives (4:17, 26) come from if Adam and Eve are the only humans? Add to that the findings of science telling us that all forms of life in the universe did not come into existence in 6 days and that biological death was not suddenly introduced when human beings came around and made an unfortunate choice. If the universe was made in six days and humans are only a few thousand years old, wouldn’t you expect that honest inquiry into our world would confirm, not contradict, such assertions if that’s how it really happened? Or are the overwhelming majority of scientists deceived? Perhaps trying to make this text a science lesson or a history lesson is missing the point. I don't think we have to interpret Genesis 1-11 historically, and I don't think we have to make science and Christian faith fight each other on this one.

So, were Adam and Eve real people? I’m open to that possibility, but if they were, it seems likely they weren’t the first human beings, since multiple independent lines of research are telling us we descended from a pool of 10,000 hominins. McKnight argues that the allegorical, moral Adam and Eve get treated as a historical Adam and Eve in the Bible whenever you see genealogies in Scripture (like Genesis 5; 1 Chronicles 1; Luke 3:23-38). It seems likely that other biblical authors did view them as historical people, yet once we reach a certain point in the genealogy, we should perhaps view it as dipping back into the clouds of myth or allegory. If I’m reading him correctly, this seems to be what McKnight is advocating. This could be a way of harmonizing Genesis 1-11 and the findings of evolutionary science, and doing so in a way that seeks to take the Bible seriously.

What do you think?

Next up, interpreting Romans 5:12-21 and some final questions concerning death...

Evolving–Reconciling Evolution and Christian Theology (Repost from May 31, 2017)

“The number one reason young Christians leave the faith [and that non-Christians find Christianity intellectually incoherent] is the conflict between science and faith, and that conflict can be narrowed to the conflict between evolutionary theory and human origins as traditionally read in Genesis 1-2” (Venema & McKnight, pp.104-105).

I just finished reading an engaging book released this year, a collaboration between two first-rate Christian scholars entitled Adam and the Genome: Reading Scripture after Genetic Science. Dennis Venema, who has a PhD in Genetics and teaches at Trinity Western University in Canada, along with Scot McKnight, who has a PhD in New Testament and teaches at Northern Seminary in Chicago, do a bang-up job bringing evolutionary theory and Christian theology into a constructive synthesis. Both of these men have ties to BioLogos, an organization composed of Christians who are evangelical in theology (shorthand for they affirm biblical authority and orthodox Christianity) and believe in theistic evolution, or that God created the world through the mechanism of evolution. I’ve found BioLogos to be the best resource at fostering informed dialogue between the scientific and Christian communities, and it was at a BioLogos gathering in New York when Dennis and Scot first met each other, which has now led to this book. 

Christianity and science have had their ups and downs throughout history. We can point to several positive examples between them. Gregor Mendel, the father of modern genetics, was a monk. Isaac Newton, a prominent scientist who discovered the theory of gravity, wrote that creation points to God. Frances Collins led the team that sequenced the human genome in the early 2000s and is an evangelical Christian. On the other hand, we’ve all heard the story of Galileo. His research supported Copernicus’ theory that our solar system is heliocentric—the earth and other planets revolve around the sun. After he (perhaps intentionally) slighted the pope in one of his works, Galileo was put on trial, told to curse his findings, and placed under house arrest for the rest of his life for contradicting the “clear” teaching of the Bible—that the earth is the center of the universe. 

Heliocentrism remained controversial for quite some time. Venema tells the story of John Edwards (not the famed American revivalist Jonathan Edwards of the First Great Awakening) who wrote an apologetic work in 1696 against heliocentrism, saying it clearly violates Scripture, which teaches the earth is the center of the universe. For, after all, Psalm 104:5 says “the Lord set the earth on its foundations; it can never be moved,” or Ecclesiastes 1:5 “And the sun rises and sets and returns to its place.” And how else could God make the shadow go backwards for Hezekiah in 2 Kings 20:1-11, or stop the sun in the sky for Joshua in Joshua 10:1-15? Edwards also said heliocentrism is contrary to reason. I like one of his arguments Venema quotes:

Nay, truly, if the earth were hurl’d about in a Circle (as these Persons assert) we should feel it to our sorrow, for we should not be able to keep our ground, but must necessarily be thrown off, and all Houses and other Buildings would be thrown down, being forcibly shared off from the Circumference of the Earth, as things that are laid on a Wheel are flung off by it when it turns round (Ibid., p. 10).

Knowing what we know today, it may be a bit humorous to read an argument for being slung off the earth like a ball from a fast-pitch machine if the earth is really rotating and orbiting as fast as those heliocentrists say it is. Copernicus’ ideas had been around for about 150 years by the time Edwards wrote, however, some of the science was still coming in to confirm heliocentrism, and the vast majority of Christians (and probably people in the West in general) had been geocentrists for a long time. Today, that has been totally reversed, and you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who claims to believe the earth is the center of the universe. And what of John Edwards’ claims that the sun being the center of our solar system is contrary to Scripture and reason? The fact is, hardly anyone sees it that way now. Bit by bit, as more and more research confirmed heliocentrism, people started to wonder if they’d been interpreting those Scriptures improperly. Now that we’ve put people into space and on the moon, it’s against all reason to think otherwise concerning the sun being the center of our solar system. While initially some were against it because of Scriptural and rational questions, the church shifted.

In a similar manner, ever since Darwin published his On the Origin of Species, we have been in the midst of another conversation concerning origins, and a similar slow and steady shift has been happening.

Exploring this topic inescapably leads us to the Bible and how we are to interpret it. Most Christians believe the Bible is inspired by God to teach us and help us live a holy life (2 Tim. 3:16-17), and Protestants especially hold that if a doctrine cannot be proved by Scripture, it should not be required as necessary to salvation. To believe or do something contrary to Scripture, properly interpreted, would be sinful.

Genesis 1-11 tells the story of a God creating all that exists in six days, an original human pair (Eve and Adam) who sinned in the garden of Eden, their exile from the garden, a murder of a brother, a flood, the building of a tower, the confusion of languages, and several genealogies. Elsewhere, the Bible depicts much of humanity being descended from Adam and Eve, including big names like Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, and Jesus (Luke 3:23-38). Paul teaches in Romans 5:12-21 that in Adam, sin was introduced into the world and because of that, death came to all people (see also 1 Corinthians 15:21-22).

When it comes to the sciences, physicists are telling us that the universe didn’t originate a few thousand years ago from a six day creation, but from a big bang 13.8 billion years ago. Our universe took shape over billions of years (the earth is estimated to be about 4.5 billion years old), and evolutionary science is indicating that life on earth evolved slowly but surely over several billion years, with modern humans arriving on the scene about 250,000 years ago. It also shows that humans didn’t come from one original pair, but from a pool of about 10,000 hominins during a bottleneck about 150,000 years ago (Ibid., 44; Venema shows there are several independent lines of evidence pointing to this conclusion in chapter 3). 

Evolution is a theory in the science world. As Venema writes, when we use the word “theory” in common speech, we often mean something like a guess, but in science, theories are developed over a long period of time, are verified by many different experiments, and are useful for explaining “why the facts are the way they are” (Ibid., 3). The big bang and evolution aren’t just vague guesses, but have been verified time and time again by a whole host of different experiments. In short, they’re as well established as gravity, as the sun being the center of our solar system, as germs and cells and the laws of planetary motion.

Perhaps you can see the mutually exclusive claims. Which is it? Six days or billions of years? Were there two original humans or a pool of 10,000? Has stuff been dying for billions of years, or did death only come after Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil?  Were Eve and Adam real people? If not, what do we do with other biblical authors treating them like they were, including them in genealogies (Luke 3:23-38) and Paul using Adam as an example of how sin spread to all humanity (Romans 5:12-21)? If Adam and Eve aren’t a historical couple and many Christian traditions hold to a doctrine of original sin (the sinful nature of that original couple has been passed down to every human being in existence), what are we to do with that belief? Moreover, what does it do to our understanding of salvation in Jesus Christ, who by his work is supposed to set us free from death and sin if life has been dying long before humans ever came on the scene?

These apparent inconsistencies have led many to choose either evolutionary science or an anti-science version of Christianity. Person A will take science, its methodologies, its explanatory power, and its progress and leave behind a Christianity she or he considers intellectually vacuous and superstitious. Perhaps another worldview, like atheism or Buddhism, wouldn’t have such a dissonance between the claims of science and claims of religion. Person B, on the other hand, will take God, the Bible, the morality it teaches, and the spirituality of a Christian faith walk, and reject science—at least evolutionary science and certain aspects of cosmology—holding to a literal six day creation. This has often been labeled the creationist perspective. Creationists see evolution and the Bible as inevitably conflicting, and would argue that to unite the two into a synthesis is like trying to make oil and vinegar mix—you can shake things up a lot, but in the end, they just don’t go together.

Some have gone so far as to champion creationist science, a banner carried by people like Ken Ham and the organization Answers in Genesis (there are others as well). Creationist scientists deny evolution and any other scientific data that goes against their literal interpretation of the Genesis creation narratives, and they work to prove that interpretation scientifically. These folks are hailed by many in the scientific community as practitioners of pseudo-science, often presenting technical answers and challenges to largely non-scientifically trained audiences (people like me) who don’t have the foggiest idea of all the data out there. It would be like someone wanting to have an in-depth discussion with me about software programming. I might recognize a few words here and there, but largely I’m going to have no idea what you’re talking about and I’m going to trust that you know more than I do on this one. But for those who do have more background in evolutionary science and are cognizant of the data, they recognize that something fishy and unfair is going on in many creationist critiques of evolution. Venema is quite helpful in this regard in the book, demonstrating that yes, evolution actually can explain fish turning into primates, and lays out the genetic arguments for why that’s the case.

Venema and McKnight give several examples in the book that make a lot of sense according to evolutionary theory, but just seem baffling from a six-day creationist perspective. I’ve included three here. First, when it comes to our sense of smell, humans have some pretty damaged genetic material, which can help explain why our sense of smell is shoddy in comparison to a dog or a cat. What’s interesting is that when you look at the sense of smell of other primates, they too have a lot of mistakes, sometimes down to the very same malfunctioning genes that are in humans, which suggests common ancestry. Orangutans, our furthest primate relative, share one malfunction in common with us, guerrillas share two malfunctions in common, and then our closest ancestor, chimpanzees, share three malfunctions in common with us (Ibid., 34). That sure does look like some of the malfunctions happened to our common ancestors. And if God created us only a few thousand years ago, why did he create us with all this damaged and seemingly useless genetic material? Second, as an example of an intermediate species, Venema points to Basilosaurus, an ancient whale that had small hind limbs that were unable to support its weight, and says there are several other examples (Ibid., 16). Third, McKnight tells the story of someone who noticed the “latent but inactive remains of the Vitamin-C producing gene” shared among humans and primates and wondered: If God created all there is a few thousand years ago, why did he put stuff like this all over the place that seems to point to evolution? (Ibid., 172). There are more examples in the book, and it makes for good reading.

Why have I been rambling on about this topic? Well, my own view is one of theistic evolution, that God created all that exists and developed the world through evolutionary processes. I believe it’s possible to reconcile evolution and the Bible while not downplaying biblical authority. Not everyone will agree with me, and that’s fine. We don’t have to view things the same way to be sisters and brothers in Christ, or at the very least to be friends. And I fully admit that I could be wrong—I don’t know everything there is to know. But it’s for reasons that become apparent when interpreting the Bible itself, when looking at the weight of evidence for evolutionary theory, and especially in consideration of those who feel they must choose either Christianity or science, that I see theistic evolution as a compelling position. Science and Christianity don’t have to conflict. In fact, I think they can help each other and need each other. Science is a wonderful vocation for Christians, and no, you don’t have to check your brain at the door to be a Christian.

In my next post, I want to continue the argument Venema and McKnight lay out in their wonderful book (you should read it—they are much more informed and winsome writers than myself) and look at what the Bible says and how to interpret it as we wrestle with these questions. Stay tuned.

Babel or Pentecost? Seeking Unity in Diversity (Repost from Mar. 27, 2017)

In America today, we are struggling with heavy divides across identity boundaries. In his enlightening Atlantic article entitled “Breaking Faith,” Peter Beinart argues America’s secularization hasn’t led to an end of the culture wars, but rather they are taking a nastier turn, centering on race and politics as the primary battleground. He found regular church attendance connected with an increase in tolerance for other ethnicities and Muslims, as well as a general hope that the political system works (though, unfortunately, increased church attendance is also connected with disdain for LGBTQ people, which isn’t good even if you hold a traditional view of sexuality like I do). He shows that more secularized people tend to favor the populist candidates: Bernie on the left and Trump on the right. Trump did best with conservative voters who don’t go to church (even if they identified as evangelical), while Bernie did best with liberal voters who don’t go to church. Regular church goers who leaned liberal tended to vote for Hillary, while Ted Cruz appeared to be the favorite candidate of regular conservative church goers. In essence, we are seeing some of the effects of a more secularized nation unfold before us, and it isn’t all pretty. More and more, identity markers like nationality, religion, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, socio-economic status, political affiliation, geographic location, etc., are viewed as uncrossable chasms. We are fracturing along these differences, and there is uncertainty as to whether we can move forward.

As a Christian, I believe there are several gifts that my faith offers when it comes to our present challenge. God has given us language and convictions that can showcase a healthy way to embrace diversity, reach out to others who are different, and promote a sense of harmony and cooperation even if we don’t agree on everything. After all, what group can you find in our world that is more diverse than the church, containing followers of Jesus in every country, who speak many different languages, and have a God-given passion to share God's love with every tribe, tongue, and nation?

Reconciliation

Reconciliation is a repeated point of emphasis for Paul in his letters. It is the restoration of a harmonious relationship between people, a removal of tension and grievances. Paul teaches that when we trust in Christ’s good work for us, we are united with God and united with other believers by the Holy Spirit. Paul writes that the cross of Jesus has torn down the hostility and ethnic tensions he saw in the church of his day. “For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of the commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. […] So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God…” (Ephesians 2:14-16, 18). There is a lot to this passage that could be unpacked, but one of the core convictions is that in a mysterious way, Christ’s death on the cross does away with any pride or ethnocentrism we might cling to, so that no matter our background, the Spirit who unites us is more foundational to our identity than any other component of it. In light of biblical teaching, Christians are commanded to be united with other Christians and to reach across boundary lines in friendship. The church should showcase God’s reconciling love, which leads us to be reconciled with each other. You should expect to find very different people together in church. We haven’t lived up to that call perfectly throughout our history, but there are some beautiful examples both in our past and in practice today.

The Image of God

Yet even for those who are not Christians, Christianity has another unifying conviction in that we all share a common humanity. I recently benefitted from reading former president of Fuller Theological Seminary Richard Mouw’s book Adventures in Evangelical Civility: A Lifelong Quest for Common Ground. He articulates well his experience of finding commonalities in surprising places and with surprising people: 

I have regularly experienced a profound sense—in reading a non-Christian philosopher, in engaging in debates on questions of public policy, in debating theological topics with persons of other Christian traditions—that I am standing together on a patch of common ground with someone whose views on serious matters are quite different from my own. The historian David Cannadine recently published an insightful apologia for the importance of holding on to the idea of human solidarity in spite of the attention given these days to human differences—religious, national, racial, ethnic, gender, lifestyle, and the like. I especially like the subtitle chosen for his book: Humanity beyond Our Differences. It is that ‘beyond’ or ‘beneath’ that I often experience. It is important, though, to assess that experience in the light of careful theological exploration. What explains the experience of standing on a patch of common ground? (p. 17)

Mouw goes on to devote a whole chapter to the image of God as a concept that explains the commonness he has experienced. My next sentence is cliche, but it’s important because we’re losing the ability to believe in a shared humanity in American culture. I believe that all of us at our root are people, made in the image of God, holding some of the same hopes, dreams, fears, talents, and weaknesses in our hearts. Believing in a common humanity doesn’t make identity differences go away, but it does give us a framework to point toward a deeper, unifying reality each and every one of us shares. I understand the image of God to mean that each human being is specially loved by God, reflects something of God’s character and power, and is intended to serve as a mediator between God and the rest of creation. So even if you’re on the outside of my particular religious, ethnic, or fill-in-the-blank-here boundary marker, however important it is, that does not negate your humanity, nor does it mean you aren’t worthy of love and respect. No matter who you are, I can connect with you with and learn from you, whether a Muslim chef, an atheist philosopher, a lesbian waitress, a Chinese accountant, etc. Identity differences do not erase our shared humanity. Worldviews with no sense of love or appreciation of the humanity for those who disagree with them further chaos rather than cooperation.

Pentecost

As a last example, I follow Mouw in how he uses the biblical examples of Babel and Pentecost as two different approaches we can have to diversity.

Babel represents one kind of multiculturalism. Babel is an extreme picture of an irreducible diversity, of the loss of common patterns of understanding; Babel confuses, divides, and erects barriers. Pentecost, in contrast, represents a very different kind of multiculturalism. The Pentecostal experience does not eliminate the diversity of tongues, but it provides us with the ability to communicate across linguistic and cultural boundaries. Pentecost heals, unites, and promotes understanding. From this perspective, the fundamental question about cultural diversity today is this one: Are we going to think about this diversity against the backdrop of Babel or against the backdrop of Pentecost? (137)

I see a lot of the Babel mindset in America today. More and more, the voices who hold a narrow view of humanity are growing louder and louder and are pushing us apart, whether in the White House, in the media, in the religious community, or in protest movements. There is only space for my black experience. There is only space for my conservative politics. There is only space for my liberal beliefs. We could go on. All of these are worthy of exploration, some even of being championed, but if there is no reconciling conviction, no appreciation and respect of a shared humanity, then I am afraid such an approach fails to be fully Christian. Heck, I don’t even think it ends up being truly American, since according to the Declaration of Independence we’re supposed to hold that all people are made equal and endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights—life, liberty, & the pursuit of happiness. 

How Can We Build a Bridge?

My own community of Tanner is wonderfully diverse. Some numbers I’ve seen for our local K-12 school is that we are 27% African American, 29% Latino, 39% White, 5% other. What would it look like for my church and for me personally to work toward building bridges and incorporating the gifts of diversity into our lives? I am convinced that it starts with kindness, a willingness to listen and engage, and friendships with people who are different from ourselves. From the place of friendship, a whole lot of things have been birthed: partnerships between churches of different ethnicities, interfaith conversations, community forums, political action, mutual learning, changed lives, and so on. But friendship is necessary for any of this to come from a genuine place and can simply be an end in itself.

There’s a whole lot more that could be said and explored. But as a matter of a starting place for my tribe, the church, I’d like to say that we have the language, mission, and spiritual power that could model a diversity our country desperately needs to see right now. Let’s reclaim Jesus’ push for reconciling people to God and to each other. Let’s reclaim a healthy appreciation of the image of God and the grace of God at work in all people, not just Christians. And let’s reject any conception of diversity that has a divisive, Babel mindset, instead embracing the surprising and challenging truth of the tongues of Pentecost: The God who reconciles us and the humanity we all share is more central to our identity than the markers and narratives we use to push ourselves apart. So how can I be a friend to someone different from me today? 

Our Dance with Authenticity (Repost from Feb. 27, 2017)

“I always keep it 100…”

“I’m just being real…”

“Our church really needs to be more authentic…”

Chances are you’ve heard people speak along these lines before. Authenticity is a virtue being championed in both the church world and in our culture. Since the presidential campaign started ramping up until today, many Americans have been emoting about our political situation. Impassioned social media posts, blogs, news articles, video clips, podcasts, and protests have flooded the internet. More than ever, we are telling the truth as we see it.

I was recently privileged to be a part of a conversation with other clergy in my denomination about authenticity. One person in particular had some questions on the topic. He said he had participated in conversations in the past where people would praise him for being honest, and encourage him to continue in that direction. However, some experiences in leading his church were now making him wonder if authenticity could reach a point where it fails to be helpful. The comments people shared were illuminating.

Authenticity can be good. We need genuine love and relationship—God wired us that way. So in that sense, authenticity is necessary. But I wonder sometimes if we lift up authenticity as more important than it should be, like some kind of ultimate virtue. As long as we’re honest, we can say and do whatever we want, because we’re being true to ourselves. If I say something condemning or spiteful, I can excuse it by saying “I’m just being real.” We can explain away our hurtful actions, our immaturity, or our overly critical words by claiming it was done in the interest of authenticity. Now if we believe in a total, inherent goodness of humanity, then I can see why we’d believe whatever we discover noodling around inside ourselves is a blessing to be shared. But the biblical picture is not so positive concerning human nature. People are mixed bags. I can authentically be a sinner just as much as I can authentically be a saint. Every thought or feeling that I experience isn’t always God’s gift to the world. A relentless authenticity hurts.

The fire and brimstone preachers who go to college campuses and condemn everyone to hell are being true to how they see God, but sure are causing a lot of damage. The worker who is painfully honest with her or his boss might be genuine, but sometimes it isn’t going to help the boss, the company, or (gulp) his or her future prospects with that job. And the ultimate test of authenticity: “Honey, what do you think of my new outfit?” Friends, tread wisely if you ever find yourselves in such dangerous territory.

Truth defined as being authentic to yourself is not enough. Honesty needs to be guided by a higher principle, and I believe that principle is love. Love is the heart of the Christian religion. Love seeks authenticity in obeying God and developing a friendship with him. Love seeks God’s best for others, even to the point of pain and self-sacrifice (John 15:13). Love is patient and it is kind (1 Cor. 13:4). In Christianity, God’s holy love is the foundational truth that holds all of existence together. It is the heartbeat of the Trinity. So if my authenticity needlessly wounds someone else or leads them away from God’s best for their lives, while I may be honest, I am not being loving, and therefore I am not living out Jesus’ truth.

Tim Keller, in his book The Meaning of Marriage, talks about how spouses dance between the values of love and truth. A dose of truth can challenge your spouse, help him or her grow, and can even be encouraging when he or she has done well. On the other hand, showing love can help spouses feel affirmed, supported, and cared for, even when they make mistakes. But an unnecessary, double-shotgun blast of truth can shake your spouse to the core and do a whole lot of damage, sometimes taking years to undo, while a constant attitude of acceptance can coddle your spouse, never pushing for growth or challenging bad behavior. John writes that Jesus was “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). He held these two things together perfectly.

The same dance applies to us today as we seek a holy authenticity in the various spheres that touch our lives. In these tense times, ask yourself: Is my sharing something motivated by love for the other and seeking the best for all involved, or is it just an emotional catharsis for me? Am I sure what I’m sharing is true and from a reliable source, or is it an “alternative fact?” How can I confrontationally love someone in a way that is gentle?

More than ever we are seeing people’s true colors, which creates a wonderful opportunity to talk about important things. Authenticity at its best invites genuine discussion about beliefs, identity, and ideas while minimizing vitriol. I hope times like these help all of us grow into veterans in the dance between love and truth, discerning wisely when a situation calls for a challenging honesty, when it calls for support and acceptance, and when it’s best not to talk at all.

Again, this does not mean truth is unimportant. Hardly. But when we embody a holy authenticity, the chances go up for truth becoming transformative. When our authenticity is guided by love, we will see a higher truth, the ultimate truth, come to bear: that the love of Jesus is the most beautiful and powerful thing in the world. Really.

The Focus of Calling (Repost from Jan. 15, 2017)

My favorite academic Christian book I read in 2016 was John Stackhouse’s Making the Best of It: Following Christ in the Real World, in which he delves deep into the relationship between Christ and culture and makes an argument for something he calls New Realism. I read a story that stuck out to me in the book:

I heard of a faculty meeting at a Christian college in which one professor announced his impending resignation in order to pursue a calling among the poor of that city. It was a moving address, and afterward little knots of conversation formed in the faculty offices. In one such conversation, a distinguished senior professor was overcome by such admiration for his younger colleague’s ministry that he openly doubted the worth of his own career. Yet, as a friend pointed out, this senior colleague had blessed the Body of Christ with decades of fruitful Biblical scholarship, while the younger professor leaving to work with the poor had not been inclined to that form of edification of the Body. Serving the poor is good and teaching the Scripture is good (cf. Acts 6:2-5). Few can do both. We should be content to be mere members of a Body that collectively does many things.

Stackhouse’s words are very apt for our present situation. 2016 was a year of a contentious and surprising election, showcasing very visible signs of our nation’s division. This division is still with us, and everyone wants to be a political talking head, to tell us which way the wind will blow and what our nation must do. I’ve done it myself.

Politics is important—it affects our healthcare, our schools, our businesses, our infrastructure, and a whole lot of other stuff. But it is not the most important thing about being human. Our political persuasions are not our core identity marker, and they cannot meet all our spiritual, relational, and emotional needs, though some politicians would love to promise us they can. And not everyone is called to work in politics. Since so many people are talking about politics, the temptation is that all of us should throw ourselves wholeheartedly into it. But that isn’t true. Only some of us should. Knowing God’s calling on our lives and who we are in Christ helps us know the paths we should follow. If we take the Lordship of Christ over our lives and our governments seriously, then we should take the calling of Christ on our lives seriously too. Sometimes we can be envious of other people’s callings while not recognizing our own and the value it brings. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 12, the Body of Christ has many members with different gifts, talents, and vocations. We are not all the same, and that’s a good thing. Because our different gifts and callings all serve to build up the common good.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t care about politics, just that some of us will be gifted, graced, and called to go heavy into it while some of us will not. And that’s ok. Because serving with integrity in politics is good. Teaching is good. Serving the church is good. Raising a family is good. Metalwork is good. Science is good. And a whole lot of other things are good. And this is why I love Stackhouse’s book. In the midst of his thoughtful musings on the relationship between Christian faith and politics, he challenges us to look at politics and every other worthwhile endeavor through the lens of Christ’s calling on our lives. We must ask, “Who is Jesus Christ for us today?” and then follow it with “Who am I for Jesus Christ today?”

In the midst of a swirl of opinions and the unnerving chaos of change, don’t forget whose you are and his call on your life. Because in a world of competing voices and priorities, his voice is most important.

Impressions of Joel Osteen (Repost from Dec. 15, 2016)

I’ve heard a lot about Joel Osteen. You probably have too. If you’re in the church world for long, then, sure as potlucks and committees, his name is bound to come up as you journey the pilgrim pathway. Some say the pastor of America’s largest church is like Jesus with flawless, gel-covered curls. Others say he’s the devil in disguise, preaching a false message that tickles people’s ears but leads them away from the truth. Me being a rather curious United Methodist pastor, I decided to go see for myself, along with a couple new friends who were kind enough to let me carpool with them. Thanks to a friend at my church scoring me free tickets, we went to Bridgestone Arena in Nashville as part of Joel and Victoria’s Night of Hope tour. Here are some of my thoughts on the event:

What I Enjoyed

There were many positives I took away from the experience. I enjoyed seeing the diversity of the worship team. Men and women of different ethnicities were on the stage, the music was dynamic and celebratory in tone, and their musicianship was top notch. Osteen was able to draw a diverse crowd. I noticed a good mix of African Americans and white people as I scanned the audience, and I even sat next to an Asian couple. In Alabama, it’s a rarity to have a significant presence of different ethnicities at church gatherings. Osteen’s ministry has the boon of communicating across racial lines and empowering people of different ethnicities. I also appreciated how both men and women were enabled to preach—Victoria and Joel taught from the stage—which embraces the Bible’s vision of women and men ministering in the Spirit’s gifts. The production quality was excellent—all the videos were high definition and artsy. The Osteens also have a partnership with World Vision, and a significant plug was given for sponsoring children and families living in poverty in third world nations. World Vision does vital work, and I’m glad the Osteens lend their publicity and influence to benefit World Vision’s mission. Also of note: there was an appeal to the importance of the Bible before Joel’s main message, people on the stage regularly confessed the power of Jesus as our risen Lord, Joel invited people to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior at the end of his message, and he encouraged people to get plugged in to local churches in their area. Joel is a very gifted speaker, whose pace is very easy to follow, he tells a lot of good stories, and he has learned to preach right into the camera so it looks like he’s staring straight into the soul of everyone looking at the screen. In short, there were many good things to take away from the night.

There were also some concerns I had about the night.

Separating God’s Power from God’s Purpose

Joel’s message was based on Gideon in Judges 6-7, how even if it looks like the odds are against us, God can give us a breakthrough no matter the chances. He regularly made mention of “pursuing our dreams,” of “stirring up the gifts within us” so that we can pursue our best life. His focus appeals to the self-serving side of us, putting our dreams and aspirations in the driver’s seat with God being another tool at our disposal in the pursuit of our ideal selves. I did not hear much about God’s dreams for our world, nor do I remember hearing much about the Lordship of Jesus Christ over our lives. Yes, God can best the odds of any difficult situations put before him, but he does it according to his purpose, not ours. We can’t disconnect the power of God from the purpose of God. The examples he used in his talk were of people becoming stars—a pizza delivery guy who became an NFL player, a kid in the foster care system who grew up to be a country music artist, and a woman who earned a very selective scholarship to a prestigious institution. Couple these stories with Joel’s celebrity pastor status, and it seems like the unspoken message is that your best life is a life of fame and fortune. The reality is, God’s purpose for most of us probably doesn’t involve us becoming a celebrity, getting uber rich, and having tons of power. It might look like humble service.

No References to Sin?

Another concern I have heard others raise about Joel is he does not talk about sin all that much. If my ears and memory serve me correctly, he never mentioned sin throughout the night, instead preferring to talk about failure and being held back from our potential, which can be some of the effects of sin. I’ve had sermons where I haven’t talked about sin all that much either, but I still very much believe it’s a reality. I’m not sure where Joel is on this in his preaching, but if he never talks about sin, that is problematic. Sin pervades our world, and, if we’re honest, it often more present in our lives than we like to admit. If our view of the Christian life does not come to grips with the reality of sin, then we are living a truncated, unbiblical vision of the faith that isn’t going to reflect reality very well. In fact, some of our dreams of success, of being the celebrity, of being the star that everyone adores, cheers, and serves, though deeply wrapped in the American psyche, can actually lead to sin. Jesus’ attitude during his earthly ministry was not “How much fame and adulation can I get while pursuing my dreams,” but “How can I best love and honor my Father and serve others?” (Mat 20:28; John 13:12-15). Instead of God cheering us on toward all of our dreams, God might judge some of our dreams as damaging, misguided, perhaps even evil. Calling people to Christ without calling them to recognize and deal with sin will not set them up for the fullness of God’s desires for life.

Prayer, Healing, and the Danger of Universalizing Personal Experience

Earlier in the night, Joel told a story about his mom, Dodie Osteen, getting diagnosed with metastatic liver cancer in 1981. He recounted hearing that the doctors had given her only a few weeks to live, and he remembered seeing how yellow she was turning due to jaundice. Dodie surrounded herself with pictures from earlier in her life when she was healthy, and she prayed for healing and visualized herself getting well, just like she was in the pictures. Eventually, Dodie was healed and the cancer was gone, despite near impossible odds. Later, Dodie came out onto the stage and said what God had done for her, he could do for you. Just keep praying in faith and visualizing your body getting healthier.

I celebrate how God miraculously worked in Dodie’s life. I fully endorse God’s power for miraculous healing and the gifts of the Holy Spirit for today. But sometimes, no matter how much you pray and how much faith you have, you don’t get healed.

What made this example so personal for me is that my mother recently died from liver cancer on October 25 of this year. My wife and I prayed for my mother’s healing ever since we learned the cancer had spread to her liver and other parts of her body in 2015. My mother prayed and fought to get well the whole time. We had people in our local church praying for her. We had friends all over the nation who were praying for her. But she didn’t get better. She died. 

I don’t know why things played out the way they did for us, and I won’t pretend to solve all the mysteries of death, suffering, and God’s will. But I don’t think Mom’s death happened because we didn’t have enough faith in God or Mom didn’t visualize and pray hard enough for her health. I take a lot of comfort in reading about David’s unanswered prayer (2 Samuel 12:15-23), about Jesus’ unanswered prayers (Mark 14:32-42; John 17), and about Paul’s unanswered prayers (2 Corinthians 12:7-12). Teaching people that if you believe hard enough, God will make you well is insufficient and can set people up for shattered expectations and an extra layer of guilt on top of grief–“Did I not have enough faith?” While I celebrate God’s healing power in Dodie’s life and know others who have experienced God’s miraculous healing, taking your experience and universalizing it can be dangerous.

Conclusion

All in all, I was grateful for the experience and the chance to see a big name speaker in the American church world. Joel has a lot of strengths and there is much that I learned from him. I can see how his message appeals to people going through struggles and who feel like life is pushing them down. Joel is right to highlight that Christianity is a positive religion. God is a good Father who gives good gifts. Jesus cares for us deeply and watches over our lives. We are better people when we follow Jesus, or at least we should be. It’s even in our best interests to follow Jesus. But sometimes following Jesus can lead to suffering and delaying gratification in order to choose a later, greater good. Following Jesus calls us toward humility, toward loving and serving others, toward simplicity and generosity with our possessions. It doesn’t guarantee all our dreams will come true or that our life will be easy. Sometimes we have to lose our lives to find true life in Jesus Christ, which really is living our “best life now.” 

It can be unfair to evaluate someone based on one sermon (we preachers know this), so I acknowledge I could be wrong. Some of my concerns might be put to rest if Joel was given the opportunity to give a fuller exposition. Still, I share these as my impressions after the Nashville Night of Hope. But I haven't shared everything about that night. At the end of the service, several people stood up to give their lives to Christ after Joel’s message. He directed them to get plugged in to local churches in the area and to start reading the Bible and praying. There were multiple children and families who got sponsored through people partnering with World Vision. Some of the people were saying they felt inspired as we were leaving. If that had happened at my church, well I’d say we’d had an amazing day. I pray that Jesus continues to use and guide Joel Osteen, and I celebrate that people are coming to follow Jesus through his ministry.