Thursday, March 19, 2015

Twisted History

"He who controls the past commands the future. He who commands the future conquers the past." 
                                                 George Orwell

Few people would dispute the fact that "traditional Christianity" finds itself increasingly under pressure in the United States.  This stems, at least in part, from the reality that some traditional Christian values are squarely at odds with a culture that increasingly embraces "relativism" -- the idea that that knowledge, truth, and morality exist in relation to culture, society, or historical context.   "Truth" in this brave new world is neither absolute nor objective.  Morality too is relative -- changing with the times (and with either the will of the majority or the oppression of the minority).

After his resurrection, Jesus commanded his followers to "go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you."  Matthew 28:19-20.  Even this most basic command to share the good news of Jesus is repugnant in a relative world.  Who are these Christians, after all, to impose their religion on a culture that celebrates "self" -- and whatever reality one chooses to embrace? 

In this relative world all religions are fundamentally the same.  If there is a god, diversity in religion just shows that there are many paths to "salvation."  If there is no god, who cares about religion anyway.  So, can't we all just Coexist?

In many instances the attacks on Christianity are obvious.  In others, however, the effort to chip away at Christianity in America is more subtle.  One of the ways this takes place comes in the form of efforts to change, or at least reshape, history.

A couple of years ago a Professor of New Testament and Early Christianity from the University of Notre Dame published a book titled The Myth of Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom.  As the title implies, the premise of the book is that accounts of martyrdom in the early church are exaggerated, and in most cases entirely fabricated.

More recently, an Assistant Professor of History at Saint Louis University published a book called Coming Out Christian in the Roman World in which he downplays the role of persecution and martyrdom in the explosive growth of the early church.  Instead, he suggests that growth of the church depended not so much on the radical Christians as on those who conformed to the Roman culture around them.  Those who he describes as living "hyphenated" lives.

Undermining the impact and extent of the persecution of early followers of Jesus serves both historical and contemporary social and political agendas.  As a historical matter, it is widely accepted that the unshakable faith of so many saints was a key catalyst for growth of the early church.  After all, would Peter and the other Apostles really have been willing to die for a Jesus who they just made up?  Or is it more likely that they would have been willing to die for a Jesus who they actually saw raised from the dead?  Undermining the history of early persecution in the church is essentially intended to cast doubt on key evidence of the historical reality of the resurrection of Jesus.

From a contemporary point of view, undermining the historical persecution of Christians provides an argument for challenging the extent of Christian persecution in the modern world.  In other words, the argument can then be made that if Christian persecution has been exaggerated and fabricated since the beginning of Christianity itself, one might assume that contemporary stories of persecution are exaggerated or fabricated as well.  Further, such historians of necessity seek non-spiritual explanations for the incredible growth in the early church -- removing God and faith entirely from the equation.

In an article titled How Christianity Really Started, our professor friend from Saint Louis compares the rise of Christianity in the ancient world to the "stunning successes of the LGBT community" in the United States in recent years.  Ultimately, he suggests that "conversation" rather than "conversion" explains the growth of the early church -- just as it has in the case of LGBT rights and marriage equality today.  The key to acceptance, it is suggested, is to blend in so that the movement is seen as nonthreatening. 

What is the point here?  Basically, if one can show political and social acceptance of any movement that is comparable in scale to the rise of early Christianity, it shows again that the phenomenon of the early church can be explained in purely human terms -- and replicated.

I raise all of this to point out that it is not necessarily the frontal attacks against the Christian faith that should concern us, but the subtle efforts to "reeducate" Americans to a secular worldview.  The problem is particularly acute when it comes to young people -- especially those who are college bound.

On a final note, there is a thread of truth in the article written by our friend from Saint Louis that warrants comment.  While I am confident that "radical" Christians -- those willing to endure persecution and even martyrdom -- were a primary cause of the rise of the early church, inevitably the huge number of converts in later centuries came about not because of conviction, but because of compromise.   In other words, the church grew exponentially because of the Christians who lived "hyphenated" lives; those who conformed to the culture around them.

 In his sermon "The More Excellent Way", John Wesley noted that from the earliest days of the church there have been two kinds of Christians:

It is the observation of an ancient writer, that there have been from the beginning two orders of Christians. The one lived an innocent life, conforming in all things, not sinful, to the customs and fashions of the world; doing many good works, abstaining from gross evils, and attending the ordinances of God. They endeavoured, in general, to have a conscience void of offence in their outward behaviour, but did not aim at any particular strictness, being in most things like their neighbours. The other sort of Christians not only abstained from all appearance of evil, were zealous of good works in every kind, and attended all the ordinances of God, but likewise used all diligence to attain the whole mind that was in Christ, and laboured to walk, in every point, as their beloved Master. In order to this they walked in a constant course of universal self-denial, trampling on every pleasure which they were not divinely conscious prepared them for taking pleasure in God. They took up their cross daily. They strove, they agonized without intermission, to enter in at the strait gate. This one thing they did, they spared no pains to arrive at the summit of Christian holiness; "leaving the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, to go on to perfection;" to "know all that love of God which passeth knowledge, and to be filled with all the fulness of God." 

It is my personal belief that while those Christians who have chosen the more excellent way have also always sustained the church and moved it forward, the great numbers have from the earliest days of the church consisted of those who chose the easier way.  In this respect our historian friend is quite right in his observations about the rise of the early church.  Where he fails, however, is in his implicit understanding that the success of the early church is or should be measured by the numbers. 

At the end of the day, the rise of the early church was not due to anything that man did or did not do.  It resulted from the power of the Holy Spirit working in the lives of people who decided to surrender whole-heartedly to Jesus.  It is that power that changed the world.  Unfortunately, this is something our secular historian friends will never even consider -- much less comprehend.




 






Monday, February 2, 2015

Year One


There were a couple of times last night, I have to admit, when I wondered in passing about the score -- or at least about which team was winning.  With all of the hype surrounding the Super Bowl, I expected it to be a pretty good game.  And, I even knew some of the story lines.  Avoiding awareness of it completely, after all, would have required living under a rock for the last couple of weeks.  But looking up the score on the internet, or God forbid turning on the television, was simply not an option.  For millions of Americans the Super Bowl is a great party and a great escape.  For me, it is a bitter reminder of our new reality.

A year ago today, not long after this game had ended, we got word that Jonathan was no longer with us.  The details of that night are still far too painful to recount in their entirety.  Maybe that will always be the case.  I can say that my first reaction to the news was shock and disbelief.  My second thought was that the information was just wrong.  I thought if I jumped in the car and raced to where he was Dad could still fix things.  There was still time for a miracle.  Even when the police officers told me I was too late I still didn't believe it.  I remember asking them three times if they were sure.  Three times I asked -- three times they gave me the same answer.  

Of all of the milestones of this year -- the birthdays, the holidays and other family events that will never be the same -- the passing of one year has been the most unbearable in many ways.  It is a difficult thing to completely understand or to rationally explain.  In part, I am sure, it is because the "anniversary" has made it almost impossible not to think about the details of that terrible night.  There are so many reminders.  So much is familiar -- the chill in the air, the football chatter ....

I also think that with the passing of a year my ability to pretend it didn't happen -- denial -- becomes that much more difficult.  Reality seems to be setting in.  And then there is this fear that with each passing day my memories of him become more faded -- more dependent on home movies and photographs than on actual recollections.

As a family, we continue to struggle to find our footing.  As of that February night, none of our kids had really left home.  None had gotten married, moved away (except for school) or really started their lives independent of the rest of us.  We were constantly together.  And, Pam and I were in no hurry to see that change -- although it was evident those kind of changes would soon be upon us.  But then, of course, everything changed.  Our perfect family of five became a broken family of four.

Having said that, I marvel at how Pam, Dani and Christian have made it through the last year.  Dani and Christian not only lost a brother that night, but he was also their best friend.  And Pam endured the worst thing that any woman can endure -- losing a child.  But, we continue to find our way -- painful step by painful step.

And, somehow, some way, God continues to bring healing, and even to use our pain to help and minister to others.

I hope that today our family, and the many others who knew and loved our son, will find a way to look beyond the tragedy that this day represents and remember the good times ... his huge smile, his unbridled excitement, his ridiculous sense of humor, his generosity and his overwhelming impact on all of our lives.

I was recently thinking of one night in particular when Pam's Dad ("Papa" to the kids) was in town and Jonathan wanted us all to go to an Italian restaurant he had found in Addison.  It turned out to be a very nice place -- one of these places with white table cloths and older gentlemen waiters.  It was also really pricey.  When "Papa" tried to get the bill, Jonathan had already taken care of it.  There was no way the kid should have been paying the bill -- honestly he really couldn't afford it.  But when Papa protested, Jonathan just said "Papa, you do so many nice things for all of us, I just really wanted to do this for you."

I have only seen Papa cry like that a couple of times in my life.






 

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