Jul 15, 2014
Mental Illness and Spiritual Struggle
Among evangelicals, you will find some who are very open to dealing with mental illness as a physiological reality, but you will also find others who think that there is no other value to be gained from listening to the world.
As will surprise no one, I want to urge us to abandon such either/or thinking. When I checked my mail, I saw the link to this article which I would urge you all to read: [click here]
In the article you will find this quotation from Tim Keller: We must beware of giving people the impression that through individual repentance for sin they should be able to undo their personal problems. Obviously, we should not go to the other unbiblical extreme of refusing to acknowledge personal responsibility for sinful behavior as well...While we can't fall into the reductionism of believing all problems are chemically based and require medication, we also cannot fall into the reductionism of believing all problems are simply a matter of lacking spiritual disciplines. Schizophrenia, bipolar depression, and a host of other psychological problems are rooted in physiological problems that call for medical treatment, not simple talk therapy.
My advice is that if you have a parishioner who needs counsel beyond your own training, do not refer them to a Christian counsellor who sees psychiatrists as the enemy, or a counsellor who tries to diagnose things they have no training to diagnose. I’ve seen terrible harm done by such well-meaning counsellors. Before I refer to any Christian counsellor, I would want to talk with them and learn about their training and whether they have a psychiatrist to whom they refer clients whose needs are beyond their expertise. If you hear blanket criticism of psychiatry, or that they never refer to a psychiatrist, you know you are dealing with an incompetent counsellor.
Now someone will want to cite the circumstance where a psychiatrist had a bias against people of faith and did harm that way. I’m sure that such persons exist too. But my contacts with psychiatrists in my 15 years in hospital chaplaincy has been with none of that kind. And there is a growing consensus (typified in the linked article) among evangelicals that psychiatrists are God’s gift, just as are other physicians.
How I pray that pastors will not compound the problem of mental illness by steering people away from the medical professionals who can help them. I know I grew up with a bias against psychiatry, and have listened to enough conversations to know that the bias is still around.
May 20, 2014
Building a Better Baby
May 6, 2014
Ten Words that will Make or Break a Church (a belated Advent reflection)
Apr 22, 2014
Wisdom: Blessings for Life and Ministry
Apr 8, 2014
Focus on the Family
Mar 18, 2014
Early Church and Women – Now that’s Missional
Mar 6, 2014
Our Church and Alcohol
Mar 5, 2014
Alcohol and the Church
Jun 24, 2013
The Cross and the Kingdom
Imagine you are living in a beautiful house. The house is spacious and full of people. In the east end of this mansion, there is a spectacular view of the sunrise, if you care to wake up early enough to see it. On the west side: an equally stunning vista at sunset. The residents, though, have begun to argue. Those in the east end start talking among themselves: “The sunrise begins the day; it is full of pinks and yellows. It’s not just breathtaking, it is the first, best way of seeing the world out there.” Those who live in the west end protest: “Looking west at the end of the day is mesmerizing. The red and orange and blue – really, who needs the sunrise when you have this?”
It’s an odd argument to be having.
As Christians, we are one house, so we are told. Naturally, there are different viewpoints on all sorts of issues, but our foundation is the same. But within this house there are two distinct ways of looking at the world “out there”.
We are not speaking of denominations, but about fundamental approaches to Christian life and ministry that are often rooted in our personalities and our experiences of life. Let’s give names to these groups, and, in broad strokes, define them. We’ll call the first group “Cross Christians” and the second group “Kingdom Christians.” Cross Christians look out on the world and see sinners who are unreconciled to God; human beings who need salvation before dying. Eternity awaits! But what will it bring for all the people out there? Kingdom Christians look out on the world and see human beings living in God’s world, but with all sorts of damage brought to that good creation. Life awaits, but what about all the pain and brokenness and sin and injustice? What does Jesus say about those things?
Both groups have strong Biblical support for their positions, and both feel that their emphasis is very important in the overall Biblical teaching. And both are right. The problem is that, instead of being united with each other, some members of each camp push their emphasis in such a way as to minimize the other perspective; emphasizing the sunrise at the expense of the sunset.
The practical outcome can be that Christians who should be together, and could be together, are not together; what ought to be a solid alliance is only an uneasy truce. Further, some of these Christians can become suspicious or defensive or argumentative — perhaps you have met some on one or the other end of the house. (Unfortunate souls may have met some from both ends of the house!) We are convinced that this is neither good nor necessary. We believe that both viewpoints are correct in what they claim, and only go astray if they deny the validity of the other. We want to show, briefly, that both truly are solidly rooted in Scripture. And, working from the principle that Scripture does not contradict itself, we want to affirm that the great themes of Cross and Kingdom do indeed complement each other — that each side needs the other for the greatest health and strength of the church.
Consider what God’s Word says. You could start by looking up the word “kingdom” in a concordance. It occurs frequently in the Bible, doesn’t it? More particularly, it occurs with great frequency in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Why does this matter? Because the fundamental message of Jesus had to do with the “kingdom of God.” Matthew, Mark and Luke all portray Jesus as announcing the good news of the kingdom of God (sometimes called the kingdom of heaven, especially in Matthew). Not only did he announce it, Jesus told many parables about it. He used similes: “The kingdom of God is like … ” He talked about those who were the greatest in the kingdom, he talked about entering the kingdom, he talked about the nearness of the kingdom, and he even used the expression “my kingdom.” John’s gospel, although much different in style from the first three, nevertheless includes important kingdom teaching. These statistics explain why some readers who focus on Jesus find the theme of the kingdom of God pervasive – not just a theme, but the theme.
It gets more interesting. Looking further at a concordance, you can see that the occurrence of the word “kingdom” is much less frequent after the gospels. In fact, both Mark and Luke have more occurrences of the word “kingdom” than are found from Acts to Revelation, inclusive. This does not mean that the idea is no longer important in those other books, but the difference is striking. Something else emerges as we scan our concordances and the New Testament: the death of Jesus (as seen in such words as “cross,” “blood,” “death,” and “sacrifice,” for example) assumes much greater prominence from the book of Acts onwards. If a reader concentrates on, for example, the letters of Paul, or the letter to the Hebrews, he/she will naturally conclude that the death of Christ — and its explosive ramifications — is the primary theme of the New Testament.
Here is a simple observation: the Biblical teaching about the cross, no matter how important the cross actually is, was not likely to be very extensive before the actual event. Although Jesus predicted his death, and explained some of its meaning to his puzzled disciples, they did not understand it very well, and (to some extent), didn’t believe that Jesus was right. It was only with the resurrection of Jesus that the message of the cross became understood by the apostles, and made sense as a presentation of God’s good news. It is important to understand that before the cross, Jesus was proclaiming good news — the good news of God’s saving intervention in history — but that he used the language of the kingdom, which would have been very familiar to his listeners, raised as they were with the Old Testament Scriptures.
The book of Acts uses transitional language, simply saying that the good news was about Jesus. By the time we get to the book of Romans, the term “good news” is relatively rare; it has been replaced, in a sense, by the word “gospel.” (And, of course, the word “gospel” means “good news.”) The New Testament sequence is something like this: the good news of the kingdom of God, the good news about Jesus, the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The good news in the New Testament is about Jesus Christ, his kingdom, and his cross. They are all indivisible. The New Testament authors were writing in the midst of this unpacking process, grappling with the unexpected way that God, in Jesus, had become the Messiah. There is a King, there is a kingdom, and there is a way of entering that kingdom. We are not born as citizens, and our sin disqualifies us from citizenship. In his cross, Jesus provides the way for us to enter his kingdom family. This is God’s way of doing it; we are required to repent of sin and believe in King Jesus. The message of the cross speaks clearly to those who know they are outside the kingdom, know why, and want to find their way in. From a different (not contradictory!) perspective, the message of the kingdom speaks to those who know something is drastically wrong with the world, and long for a new order, ruled by a good King, characterized by justice and peace.
Surely these themes are not in opposition. The truth that they belong together can be seen from the phrase that begins the majority of the New Testament epistles: “Grace and peace to you… .” Grace is God’s free favour to undeserving sinners, nowhere seen with more clarity than in the atoning cross of his Son. Peace is the resulting state of health, well-being, and harmony that Jesus envisaged when he prayed, “your kingdom come.” He not only prayed for it, he achieved it in his ministry and death, and will bring it to completion when he returns. Cross and kingdom, kingdom and cross. Christians today need to connect these themes, not separate them; see their Biblical underpinnings, not close their eyes to what God has set forth, and rejoice that both are completely part of God’s big story. One Christian might find the kingdom theme deeply motivating and spend his life working for justice in a particular area. Another Christian might find the idea of the cross and justification so moving and powerful that she spends her life telling others about the Easter story, and what it means for eternity. Both are doing God’s work, in the way that makes sense to them. And, though different, they can be fully united, each recognizing the value of the other, and both seeing the bigger, wider picture.
To return to the house once more: we must be people who, together as a body, don’t just theorize about which view of the world is the best or the more urgent. We need to be thinking and living “outside the house,” interacting with the world in a way that honours our unique wiring as individuals, and participating corporately in both evangelism and the restoring of justice and peace, for now and forever.
Apr 3, 2013
Gutenberg's Revenge and Other Thoughts
Not that I would want to go back to the gloom of the pre-Gutenberg era, mind you... any more than I would want to go back to my pre-HTC Dream life... but perhaps if we can name the unintended effects of our technology, we can make more informed choices about when, why and how to use it.
So, off the top of my head, here are a few possible "revenge effects" of technology in the Church:
In an effort to make our preaching more effective, we've introduced a variety of presentation technologies behind the pulpit. Has this had the unintended effect of shackling our sermons to ideas that fit neatly on to PowerPoint slides and shackling our preachers to what's written on the screen?
In an effort to make our music more engaging, we've replaced hymnals with screens. Has this had the unintended effect of alienating people from the songs they're singing because they no longer have the music in front of them?
In an effort to make worship more dynamic, we've amplified everything. Has this had the unintended effect of deafening us to the voice of God and the voices of each other in our gathered times?
In an effort to make our faith more "relevant" we've introduced a wide variety of media to our worship, from video montage, to film clips, to Christianesque imagery moving behind the song lyrics on the PowerPoint slide. Has this had the unintended effect of making us less able to recognize the deeply relevant but counter-cultural aspects of life with God (things like stillness, Sabbath, quiet, simplicity)?
These are real questions, not just rhetorical points. And even if the answer is "yes" to any of them, that doesn't mean the technology itself must go (*just wait, I'm getting a call on my phone*). But if we can see the "revenge effects" of our own cleverness like this, we will also begin to see, I think, the limitations of our cleverness. And to see our own limitations is to take a humble step towards deeper dependence on God.