Saturday, November 29, 2008

Back to Jerusalem

Please watch this short video about the Back to Jerusalem Movement, based in China and inspired by the revival in China. Brother Yun speaks briefly.

A Revelation from 1976: Lost

While attempting to clean up my office and make more room for books and writing, I found some notes I took on a plane trip from Anchorage, Alaska, back to Greeley, Colorado, where I attended my first year of college at University of Northern Colorado. It was in early January 4,1976, and about six months before I became a Christian. I had just turned nineteen. I wrote, "I've just gotten that bizarre spontaneously-occurring feeling of thinking in circles...It may stem from not having a firm base to look out and around from." The prose is less than stellar, but it reveals my sense of intellectual need. At that time, I was on a fast in order to try to find something beyond myself. I would later begin to study Eastern religions and philosophy more seriously.

Since becoming a Christian, I have labored to find "a firm base" for my worldview and my living in the world. Nearly my entire adult life has been committed to that end. I am convinced that Christianity is both the best way of life and a true and compelling worldview. May Christians reach those like me, who in 1976, are starting to realize that they are lost.

Desperation for Today (Introduction Added)

[I wrote this in the context of many years of frustration about the American church and my own experiences within it. It was prompted more than anything by the visit of Brother Yun to Denver Seminary about two months ago. He is a Chinese Christian who, until he had to flee China in 1997, was part of the underground church there. These comments in no way indicate doubts about the truth of Christianity; they rather concern the spiritual state of the church today.]


What can we do about the hyperactive deadness of so much American Christianity? We can enter into the desperation and radicality of the underground Chinese church, as exemplified by Brother Yun. Yun engages in strange, strenuous activities in pursuit of God’s Kingdom. As a new convert in his teens, he fasted and prayed for 100 days to get his first Bible, eating only a small bowl of rice each day. He went on a supernaturally long fast in prison, seeking God’s release and blessing. He is willing to take up the cross and deny himself in dramatic ways in search of what is uniquely from the Holy Spirit. (See his biography, The Heavenly Man.)

Why is it that God seems often to require such intense devotion before he manifests himself supernaturally? Why cannot we simply ask God for something, and then get it—even miraculous healings, mass conversions, and more? The reason may lie in the fact that because God is the superlative being in the universe, he deserves all of us. We should love him with all our heart, soul, strength and mind (Matthew 22:37-39). We should “hate” our family in comparison with our love of God (Matthew 10:32-39). We are to take up our cross and follow Jesus (Luke 9:23-25). The cross killed people; you did not survive a crucifixion. We are commanded to take up our cross because Christ took up his on our behalf. We must die to our sinful selves and live to God, because Jesus died to sin and lives to God (Romans 6:10). This theme is everywhere in the Bible. Paul says:

14 For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. 15 And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again (2 Cor. 5:14-15).

How can we miss it? But we do. We look past what is right before our eyes. This is because we are stupefied by worldliness and compromised Christianity—Christianity lite and undemanding, a Christianity denatured by consumer values and lifestyle choices.

How can we press in and press through into the supernatural realm? In True Spirituality, Francis Schaeffer wrote that we live in a supernatural world, but often act as de facto naturalists, thus demonstrating our “unfaith.” How can we find a faith that moves mountains in Jesus’ name? I believe it will take protracted desperation demonstrated in desperate and radical acts of obedience, especially prayer and fasting—in season and out of season. This needs to be done alone in the prayer closet (Matthew 6:16-18) and in groups of God-seekers (Acts 13:1-3) open to the move of the Spirit (John 3:8). We need open seasons of seeking God together, times of worship, Scripture reading, and earnest calling upon the name of the Lord, as David did in the Psalms. Even Jesus himself called upon his Father:

7 During the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. 8 Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered 9 and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him (Hebrews 5:7-9).

We must pour out our hearts and souls and minds before our Maker, for he is our God and we are his people, the flock of his own hand.

In order for God to hear and answer, we must repent as never before. God cannot bless a divided and unrepentant heart. It would violate his own holiness (Isaiah 6:1-8). Yes, he saves us out of that condition—spiritual death (Eph. 2:1-7)—but those who bear his name must do all in that name. Living in the name of Jesus does not merely mean tacking on “In Jesus’ name” at the end of prayers. It means living in the entire spirit of Jesus in all we think and feel and do (Col. 3:17).

Actions prompted by these considerations will all seem strange and silly to business-as-usual, status-quo-for-all-we-know American Christianity. We have not experienced significant renewal, revival, and reformation for many decades. We have grown cold and hard, despite our large churches, big budgets, and Christian celebrities—or perhaps because of them. Therefore, God-seeking, world-denying, flesh-hating actions—individually and corporately—will be belittled as extremism, for we are extremely worldly and lukewarm. The resurrected Jesus has an extreme word for us:

14 "To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God's creation. 15 I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! 16 So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. 17 You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see. 19 Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. 20 Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and they with me. 21 To those who are victorious, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I was victorious and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22 Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches” (Revelation 3:14-22).

We need to hear the words of holy and loving rebuke from the One seated on his heavenly throne. Who has ears to hear? Who will let Jesus in to take over completely? What is required of us?

I am not sure, but I care deeply to find out. The example of Brother Yun, the Bible itself, and great Christians in the past tell us to pursue God with all our being. Jesus said, “Seek first the Kingdom and its righteousness and all this will be added as well” (Matthew 6:33; see also 1 Cor. 10:31). Seeking first the unshakeable Kingdom of God means forsaking lesser alignments and allegiances and entanglements. It means, as Francis Schaeffer taught us, depending on Jesus Christ moment by moment. “Not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit says the Lord” (Zech. 4:6).

We need to regain a Christocentric and cruciform existence. This is nearly unknown in the postmodern world. We keep Christ at arm’s length. We try to domesticate him. We have invented a designer Jesus. We must cast aside comfort and respectability, cast aside “leadership principles” inherited from the world and the flesh (perhaps even the devil) and stop leaning on the arm of the flesh, no matter how muscular and impressive it might be (to the world). This means radical, sustained devotion to God alone. May God help us. May he shake the world again through us, yielded vessels of his transcendent power (2 Cor. 4). Apart from Christ, we can do nothing; but in Christ and with God, all things are possible (John 13-15: Matthew 19:26).

Mobs and Discounts

When materialistic shopping becomes an idol, people may die, as did this poor Wal-Mart employee.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Ergo, ergonomic

Does anyone out there use an ergonomic keyboard? A wonderful friend purchased one for me--in light of shoulder problems triggered by writing--and I got the nerve to hook it up; am using it right now. If anyone could give me some tips on adjusting to it, let me know. The Constructive Curmudgeon must write--or the world will go wrong.

Don't Need, Need

We don't need expert advise,
but Good News.

Don't need relevance,
but Revelation.

Don't need a coach,
but a King.

Don't need a make over,
but a take down.

Don't need self-help,
but self-death.

Don't need more effort,
but a Cross.

Don't need positive thinking,
but godly believing.

Don't need the world,
but the Lord.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Christianity, and Culture

I wrote this book review a few years ago, but wanted my readers to know of this sensitive and unique book. I know and love several people who suffer in the ways he describes. I am also wanting to contact Dr. Rotholz, since I lost his email.

James M Rotholz, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Christianity, and Culture: Between God and an Illness. New York: The Hawthorne Press, 2002. 141 pages.

This short and insightful reflection is unique and uniquely needed in at least two ways. First, it is a near-miracle that the book exists at all, given the fact that the author was struck down with chronic fatigue syndrome (or CFIDS, chronic fatigue immune dysfunction syndrome) several years before writing it. Those familiar with this cruel disorder know that mere survival presents a challenge to its sufferers. The rigors of writing a book elude most healthy people. Producing a book while imprisoned in a state of chronic fatigue (and its attendant ailments) requires extraordinary tenacity and pluck. Second, the subject matter is (to my knowledge) unique. There are many books on treating chronic fatigue and coping with chronic fatigue and there are a few books that attempt to help loved ones understand this disorder in order to provide intelligent and caring assistance. However, this is the first book to put the experience of chronic fatigue into a larger cultural and theological framework.

There are also numerous books on the problem of evil (of a philosophical and theological bent) and books on the vicissitudes of suffering through evil (of a pastoral and psychological bent). But these efforts nearly always ignore a category of evil and suffering that afflicts millions of people: chronic illness. Those in the vice grip of chronic illness—whether chronic fatigue, lupus, MS, irritable bowel syndrome, or other disabilities—must often endure a double malady. They not only lose their health, their dreams, and any semblance of normal life; they also end up becoming opaque mysteries even to those closest to them. This phenomenon lies in the nature of those chronic illnesses that are "invisible" to the uncaring eye. An invisible illness is one that is real, but not easily detectable visibly. Many who endure the life sentence of chronic illness "look fine" but feel miserable—more disconsolate than can be imagined by those not stricken. Many unsympathetic friends and relatives put pressure on the sufferers to "buck up" or "stop feeling sorry for themselves" and "just get on with life." After all, they are not in a wheel chair, they can see and hear, they have all their limbs, and they don't have cancer. So, what, exactly, is their problem?

Most people can understand and sympathize with episodic illnesses in which the afflicted eventually get better. The bone mends; the scar heals; the pain subsides. These problems require special attention only for a relatively short season; then folks return to normal. Fatal illnesses are tragic, but they have a destination: death. Then the problem ends, whatever grieving remains to be done. But chronic illnesses are neither episodic nor terminal. They stubbornly refuse to heal or to kill their hosts. There are no established protocols for their cure. After exhausting the ineffective options of conventional medicine, the victims are often thrown back on alternative remedies of uncertain value. Symptoms may—or may not—be managed or ameliorated by drugs and treatments. Sadly, some risky procedures desperately engaged end up relieving nothing and only adding new symptoms to the sufferer. This was the case with the author himself, who sought relief in a surgery that only added to his pain and debility.

James Rotholz writes from a place of understanding and wisdom. Trained as an anthropologist, he knows the dynamics of cultural values. As a Christian, he knows that pain and suffering are part of a universe that groans in travail awaiting its final freedom. He further knows that in Christ there is hope and meaning for even the most debilitated human being. As a chronic fatigue victim, he knows the fear, disappointment, anger, and frustration of this dark fate. After his wife fell ill with chronic fatigue, this young professor succumbed as well. (His wife eventually improved.) He was forced to leave the academy, yet try to provide for his family and carve out a meaningful existence in spite of it all. Rotholz tells his story without lapsing into either self-pity or pious platitudes. Those not touched by chronic illness need to listen to his tale—especially pastors and caregivers.

Consider the grim reality as Rotholz explains it:

The disability of CFIDS brings out all that is nasty and negative in one's personality. The illness has a way of making it all but impossible to express those qualities that are admirable in oneself. There is a direct relationship between the way one feels (happy, sad, sick, tortured) and the way one relates to others. In that PWC [people with CFIDS] feel sick so much of the time, it only stands to reason that their interactions with others are often characterized by irritability, frustration, and short-sightedness" (22-23).

Rotholz grants that many believers and non-believers have suffered nobly. Nevertheless, chronic illness is a bitter pill that must be swallowed again and again.

But the kind of mundane suffering that many disabled Americans face is in a way more difficult to bear [than other forms of suffering]. It is the day-in and day-out, unrelenting pain that serious illness and disability often inflict. This kind of suffering requires more than a moment's grit and grace. It requires a sustained battle against a ubiquitous foe, and all too often within the context of ridicule. Even a low level of sustained pain and suffering can be so insidious that, barring God's constant intervention, sooner or later even the most iron will and noble spirit must break. The concept of "Chinese water torture" is based on this understanding of the complex nature of the human psyche (24).

Rotholz's first-person narrative unveils a world of which most people know nothing. It is a world about which many would rather remain oblivious. His account is not an entertaining read. It is not a diversion from the unpleasant, but an immersion into the unspeakable. Those who are ignorant—willfully or otherwise—of the sufferings of others are exempting themselves from part of the human condition that exists east of Eden and prior to the Second Coming. In avoiding knowledge of the experience of pain, such people cheapen their own relatively painless lives.

After two chapters explaining his descent into the illness and his coming to terms with it, Rotholz utilizes his anthropological background to reflect on the larger questions of how American culture responds to and evaluates chronic illness. He explores the American "culture of success" and how it marginalizes the disabled, who cannot perform economically or culturally in the ways deemed worthy.

But Rotholz is not content merely to level accusations at American insensitivity, however needful this is. The remaining chapters present an alternative understanding of worth and meaning before God. Instead of emphasizing material achievement, the Bible calls us to value character and faithfulness. Instead of valorizing the wealthy, the beautiful, and the influential, God calls us to value all people—no matter how lowly—because they bear the image of their Creator. Our ultimate achievements are not quantifiable, but are matters of qualities—qualities of the soul as it rests in and gives glory to God, come what may. Rotholz cites Lynn Vandezalm's book Finding Strength in Weakness, in which she describes "God's sliding scale." God's concern is that we give him what we have, whatever that may be. He is not concerned with how many achievements we rack up. She writes, "Sometimes I'm too sick even to open my Bible for weeks. And yet I'm still loving God with all my strength. And he knows it" (97). God knows the widow's mite, and the disabled person's heart.

Rotholz wrestles with some of the deeper philosophical and theological problems in the concluding chapter, "Called to Dignity." As a philosopher of religion, I was not entirely impressed by his arguments, and noted a tendency toward fideism. There is a wealth of apologetic resources that he could have brought to bear on the problem of evil. However, this is but a small blemish on a significant and needful book. The author, until stricken, was an anthropologist—not a philosopher or theologian. Having been stricken, he has very limited strength for new research. Rotholz finds meaning through his suffering in the wise providence of a sometimes mysterious God. As he notes in the previous chapter, "A New Vision of Success," naturalism offers exactly no meaning or explanation for human suffering. "Any view of human life that is devoid of God must ultimately be dehumanizing, for it means that human life has no real purpose, thus, it is meaningless. Suicide would then become a reasonable response" (101). Only God can give objective meaning and direction to a world suffused with suffering.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Christianity, and Culture will never be a bestseller. Odds are that it won't even stay in print very long. It is not a feel-good, self-help manual. It doesn't tell you how to be "successful" in a worldly way (or how to be successful in a worldly way while pretending to be spiritual). It is not a "success story" as our culture defines it. The author is not a celebrity. Instead, this book tackles a subject most people would rather ignore or forget. But never mind that. By composing a contemplative book on a neglected topic, James Rotholz has won a moral and spiritual victory. His readers will find a story that ends not in despair, but in hope. This is a book for all those who want to honor and minister to a largely forgotten subsection of "the least of these, my brethren"—the chronically ill.

Tolerance

My article, "Thinking Straight about Tolerance," originally from Moody Magazine, has been posted on a web page.

Somewhere/here/then

Somewhere:

between the quixotic and the titanic,
between the quotidian and the cosmic,
between the pedestrian and the fantastic.

Here:

Under the beyond.
Over the below.
With and against.
For and forlorn.

Here and then:

Foreknown
and unforgotten.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Muslims Ban Yoga

Malaysian Islamic leaders have issued a ruling against Muslims practicing yoga. They recognize its Hindu essence and claim that Islam should meet all of its adherents needs. If only more Christians realized the Hindu nature of yoga and relied exclusively on Christian spiritual practices.

And, by the way, the enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend. Nor should yoga be legally proscribed. Freedom of religion means the right to chose a false religion, the right to be wrong.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Doug Groothuis on ID in "Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith"

My paper, "Intelligent Design and the State University," was just published in Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith, Volume 60, Number 4, December, 2008, pages 233-240. An earlier version of this paper was posted at Access Research Network (www.arn.org) and on my web page. My article is followed by Walter R. Thorson's article, "A Response to Douglas Groothuis," a paper of about equal length. Suffice to say that Dr. Thorson's does not accept my view and holds to a theistic version of methodological naturalism.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Doug Groothuis Lecture on Natural Theology on Line

My lecture, "A Defense of Natural Theology," is now on line. It was given at Denver Seminary on November 19, 2008, and is a chapter from my in-process ("How Long, O Lord?") book, What Matters Most (an apologetics textbook). In it, I rebut nine arguments against natural theology. I have a short outline to go with the lecture. Let me know if you would like one.

Abortion activist heads Obama communications team

Here we go. Unborn humans, take cover! Sadly, they cannot--unless their parents care.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Coming Down: Beware!



Notice the fine form of TV delivery to the ground.

Sermon Audio from Doug Groothuis

My sermon, "Spirituality: True and False (Acts 19:1-20)," given at Calvary South Denver on September 9, 2008, is now on line. If you'd like the outline, let me know at DougGroothuis@gmail.com.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Facebook Be-Gone

Let none of my burgeoning list of "friends" be offended, but I have disabled my Facebook account. I think I was on for about two weeks. I was troubled by some of the photographs and really did not see any point to it. The signal to noise ratio did not cut it. It was also a bit taxing to keep up with "friends" requests and to develop a rationale for what a "friend" was and, thus, who should be a "friend." It was all too virtual for me, I afraid.

Back to embodiment:

1. Face to face conversations
2. Telephone conversations
3. Meals together
4. Time alone, unplugged, focused
5. Reading books, magazines, not screens
6. Time and space with real friends here and now
7. Time and space with real students from my classes here and now

In other words, back to faces and books, not Facebook.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Suicide--On Web Cam

A nineteen-year-old Florida man has committed suicide on line before a web camera. Some of whose watching urged him to do so after he made the threat. May they realize the gravity of their evil.

How on earth can this happen? I have heard of people yelling at suicidal people to jump off of bridges and buildings. Now it is being done from the comfort of your computer. Why? Reality has retreated from the minds and hearts of many today. Everything is a customized image, a game. There is no I-Thou relationship for them, no real Other (human or divine). Therefore, the video suicide become a video game, a recreation, an entertainment.

But a young man has killed himself--for all to see. A family grieves. The news covers another story. Blogs are written. Could the chatroom participants have stopped him? God only knows. Apparently, some tried; other urged on his suicide.

So often, technology eviscerates humanity. As McLuhan said, "Everyone is no one at the speed of light"--or so it seems. But not to God, and not to those who refuse to sleepwalk through technological transformations. "Awake, you sleeper, and let Christ shine on you!"

"Therefore, chose life"--Deuteronomy 30:15.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Politics 101

Let us consider how terms are used in politics today. There is more than what typically meets the ear. This reflection may help us cut to the heart of two contrasting political philosophies.

Political liberals speak of "government" when they mean the entity that extracts taxes, makes laws, and enforces them. Conservatives speak of "the state"when they mean the entity that extracts taxes, makes laws, and enforces them. Conservatives also tend to use the term "civil government" for the state. What is the significance of these terms?

Liberals views "the government" as the primary means of ordering common life. It is "the government" that creates opportunities, rights wrongs, and brings about good. Conservatives view the state as one of many spheres of government, including self-government, family government, church government, and more. Most conservatives (of a principled kind) also consider God's government as the final reality. Liberals, however, minimize or deny these other spheres as legitimate areas of order apart from civil government. This is because liberalism is statist: the state is the giver of meaning, order, goodness in the world. All must fall under and be regulated by the state.

Liberalism, in its nature, also tends to be secular. There is no God who exercises His government and who has delegated the various spheres of government: self, family, church, and so on. Therefore, the humanistic state must absorb the functions of all other spheres into itself, baptizing and confirming them according to its autonomous command. "We have no king but Caesar," one might say.

By the way Barack Obama is a political liberal, very far to the left (of the truth).

For more on these themes, see Abraham Kuyper, Lectures on Calvinism; Francis A. Schaeffer, A Christian Manifesto, R.J. Rushdoony, The Politics of Guilt and Pity; William F. Buckley, Up From Liberalism; Herbert Schlossberg, Idols for Destruction; Richard John Neuhaus, The Naked Public Square.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Goodbye to TrueU

Sadly, TrueU--an apologetics-oriented web page, geared toward college students--is going out of business. The entire page will be down by the end of the year. I have about ten articles here and there are more by J.P. Moreland and other notable Christian thinkers. I encourage you to visit this site and download as much material as you can before it is no longer available.

The end of TrueU is part of Focus on the Family's huge layoffs of recent weeks. It is very sad indeed.

Buddhism, Nondualism, Christianity: Preliminary Thoughts on Love and Ontology

During a lecture today, something came to me. Theravade Buddhist ontology (that of original Buddhism) teaches that there are no substances, only attributes that arise and pass away ceaselessly. This makes personhood (with its enduring self: a continuent) impossible. If personhood is impossible on this ontology, so then is love, since love requires a lover a loving and a loved (a triadic arrangement by necessity).

On the other hand, nondualistic ontology (that of Advaita Vedanta Hinduism and Zen Buddhism) affirms that there is a substance (Brahman), but that this substance has no qualities or attributes: Nirguna Brahman. So, there is purportedly a Universal Self, but lacking any determinable nature, since there are no qualities. (Keith Yandell rightly argues that the idea is incoheren; if something exists it must have at least some qualities or features of its existence.) But a substance with no qualities cannot allow for persons either, since there is but one substance (no pluralisty; all is one) and that substance cannot be considered personal. If it were personal, it would have the qualities of personality. If nondualism disallows persons, it excludes love as well.

Thus, both Buddhism and nondualism evacuate reality of persons and love, each in its own way: attributes without substance (Buddhism: all is many) or substance without attributes (nondualism: all is one).

Christianity asserts that God is one substance in three persons (one and many). God possesses both essence and attributes. God is personal, even tri-personal (without being tri-theistic). Love, therefore, has an ontological rootage and explanation. "God so loved the world..." (John 3:16).

Therefore:

1. If love is real and valuable, a worldview should be able to explain or account for it and not eliminate it. This is a necessary (but not sufficient) condition for the truth of a worldview.

2. Neither original Buddhism nor nondualism can fulfill (1)

3. Therefore, both original Buddhism and nondualism are false.

4. Christianity, however, can account for the reality of love, based on the very character of God as love.

5. Therfore, Christianity fulfills (1) and passes a necessary test for the truth of a worldview.