Make a change for the better.

So I picked up a new book from the library today. Lately – and partly because I want to go into pastoral care and chaplaincy – I’ve been intrigued by the concept of suffering in Christian theology. I’ve been reading C.S. Lewis’ The Problem of Pain, which is certainly a good read,  but I’m now distracted by Douglas John Hall’s God & Human Suffering. In this blog though, I’m not going to talk about the theology of the Cross or about suffering in general. I am going to comment on a very thought-provoking statement Hall made during the first chapter of his book regarding theological truth. He writes:

Theological truth is not static. It must always be discovered afresh. For while truth is no doubt “one,” as the medieval thinkers insisted, life is forever in flux. Truth, therefore, to preserve precisely its unity, its integrity, must always readjust itself to the changing circumstances of time and place. What is eminently true in one social context may in another constitute precisely a way of avoiding the truth. The search for a true theology is thus a never-ending vocation of the church. The gospel, far from being the steadfast, unchanging, and rather obvious “proclamation” that it is frequently assumed to be, is in fact always in need of restatement; for its principal object is to address, engage, convict, and make new; and this can be attained only through a difficult struggle with the spirit of the age.

What is Hall asserting in this paragraph? Something a lot of people I know would deem “radical” or “liberal.” But is it really that far off track? I say no. Really, Hall is reaffirming my strong belief that our Christian theology must – and does – change with the times, as does the interpretation of the Bible itself.

Our theological truths are not the same as the theological truths held by believers – faithful as we are to the ministry of Christ – two thousand years ago. Like it or not, our interpretation of things such as Christology, Eschatology, the Eucharist, heaven and hell, and baptism have changed – however slightly or greatly – over the course of history. And I firmly believe that the theology of my children’s future will be quite different than the theology owned by my grandparents.

As times changes, and as societies move forward in the progression of human rights and equality for all people, our theology has to change. There is no way the Christian belief can remain static while humanity moves forward. And, contrary to what some might think, this is not a bad thing. Society is not molding Christianity into what it wants it to be, and Christianity is not giving in to the pressures of the world. Instead, both are growing together, intertwined with one another, learning from each other, and teaching each other. As society moves forward, so does theology. As theology moves forward, so does society. By changing our theology we are not moving away from God, either. Rather, we are moving toward God, who sees the world changing and knows that Christianity must change with it.

I do not believe that God is a static God; the Creator moves alongside creation just as a parent watches their child grow into an adult. And just as a child does not remain the same for eternity, neither can humanity. We must grow toward a better future, a more tolerant future, a future that will bond our world together in unity. And as we grow toward this perfect future, our theology must grow toward a perfect end.

Learning from the Apostle of Love

So, recently I read the book of 1 John. It’s interesting to note that, while my favorite Bible verse (4:7-12) comes from this book, I had never read the entire epistle before. The letters of 1, 2, and 3 John were attributed to John the evangelist (sometimes known as the Apostle of Love), but many scholars now believe that the Johannine letters were written by one or more teachers who inherited John’s knowledge, not by John himself. Either way, I still consider the epistles bearing John’s name some of the most important “love letters” written to the Christian church conveying the unabashedly powerful love that God has for creation.

Most of my basic theology can be supported (if it truly needs support) from the letter of 1 John. I firmly believe in a God of love, compassion, and reconciliation. I strongly oppose religious leaders and followers who claim that God is wrathful, judgmental, and waiting to “strike down” people and nations because of their sins. To me, God is a creator who cherishes all parts of creation, and who wants an eternal relationship with every living thing in the created world. The image of a parent is one of the most powerful images of God circulating in the church. But, if we are going to use traditional parental imagery, I feel like God has the characteristics of a mother, more so than a father. The father is usually the parent that disciplines his children, and who commands respect and honor in his household. The mother figure is more tender and forgiving. She recognizes the wrong that her child has done, but continues to love and protect him/her despite his/her shortcomings. I’m not saying that a father doesn’t love his children; I’m just saying that to me God plays a more motherly role.

And it is through God’s unyielding love for humanity that we are truly forgiven of our wrongdoings. God – the creator – came to earth in human form – as Christ – and died a humiliating, human death in order to show the world just how much God cared and continues to care. Because of Christ’s sacrificial death on the cross, we are told that God now looks beyond our sins – past, present, and future – to our very spirit and sees the spark of light that dwells within each of us.

One verse that stood out to me as I was reading 1 John was in chapter 4, verse 19 (We love because He first loved us.). Because Jesus (God) loved us so much as to physically suffer and die for all of creation, we are able to love others made in the creation. 1 John also says (quoting from my favorite verse of the entire Bible): Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. As faithful Christians in God’s world, we ought to love all of creation because God loves all of us. This goes back to my “liberal” theology of the inclusiveness of God’s kingdom – God loves all people regardless of their race, nationality, gender, sexual orientation, mental or physical handicap, social status, or any other divisive term used to separate people into categories. God loves us all, therefore we should love all as God does. To me, it isn’t a complex argument.

But, too often I see in this world people to believe the exact opposite of me. There are, sadly, people in our global community who discriminate against Jews, against the poor, against racial minorities, against gays and lesbians, against people of other faiths, and against those who proclaim a “liberal” theology. I’ve heard people say that God doesn’t hear the prayer of a Jew, that God hates homosexuals, that God doesn’t care about the environment or animals, that God is punishing America for its corruptness….the list goes on. My one wish and prayer – above all else – is that our world can come together one day under the love of God and unite in a community of brotherhood/sisterhood. I do not want my own children to grow up in a world that is full of hate, crime, and discrimination – many times committed in the name of God. As the book of John says in 15:13, No one has a greater friend than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friend. God – Creator, Christ, and Spirit – is our friend. We ought to be mirrors of God and reflect that friendship to everyone we meet.

Learning a Lesson about the World

I recently spent my spring break in East St. Louis doing inner-city mission work. I went with the Baptist Student Union at Campbell, and we worked at the Christian Activities Center doing after-school programs. Our team was free to do whatever we felt like during the time the Center was open (normally 3:30-8:00pm), for example: play basketball, help kids with their homework, color and draw, work in the computer lab, or play on the recently-built playground. The week had an extreme impact on my life and my view of the world in which I live. Not only did I learn about what it’s like to live in the inner-city, but I learned more about myself and about God.

Throughout the week, I got the chance to meet nearly a hundred or so amazing kids by tutoring geometry, coloring, pushing little girls on the swing set, playing soccer with some little boys, and giving hundreds of piggy-back rides. The kids of East St. Louis – whether they know it or not – live in the what is considered by some to be the poorest zip code in the nation. Many of the families that live in this neighbor survive on less than $6,000 a year. That’s about 200% below the federal poverty line. Some kids don’t have a dad, some don’t have a mom, some don’t get three meals a day, some don’t have clean clothes, some come from families that could care less, and some come from families that are struggling to free themselves from the hell of living in poverty.

Two incidents had a profound impact on me during the week. The first happened on the playground while I was pushing a little girl on the swings. A boy came up to me and started teasing me about my pink polo shirt (“Pink is for girls!”). I told him that he would like pink when we got older. He asked me if I had worn that shirt the day before. I said no. He asked if I was going to wear it again tomorrow. I said no. He asked me if I wore a different color shirt everyday. I said yes. The boy then told me that he only had one shirt to wear everyday. No different styles, no different colors. Only one sad, dirty shirt. Then he ran away to play tag and laugh with the other kids. The second incident happened as we were saying goodbye to Chet – the missionary in charge of the CAC. He told the BSU group about a girl (around age 10) that lived with a mom who sometimes couldn’t make enough to support her family. This mother wasn’t lazy, she was just trapped in a circle of poverty. So, in order to help make end’s meet, the mom would make her daughter walk the corner and prostitute herself. Yet, this little girl laughs and screams with the other kids on the playground and in the gym.

While serving at the CAC, I learned what true poverty is like – I saw, experienced, and talked with real poverty. I now truly understand how my own country is not doing enough to help those caught in an endless cycle of poverty. While some are certainly poor because of their own laziness, the majority are stuck because of other reasons – such as the social stigma of living in the inner-city and not being able to get a well-paying job because they live in the ghetto or they have a poor education. I learned that the welfare system is clearly not working and a new system of poverty relief needs to be invented. What was amazing to me was the fact that, although the kids at the CAC live in such poor conditions, many of them are happier than I am – a middle-class, privileged white guy from the south. I so carelessly spend my money on things I could easily go without, while people are living minute to minute, day to day in the inner-city in my own country.

East St. Louis also taught me something important about God. I have always been a proponent of the inclusiveness of God’s mercy and grace, and nowhere is this more evident than in the inner-city. The CAC is a beacon of hope and light in a shadow of our world. The ministry that the Center provides is simply amazing, and the kids all know who God and Christ are and that God fully and unabashedly accepts them – no matter their race, gender, social class, or whatever else divides them from the rest of the world. The God that watches over East St. Louis, and the God that I serve, is one of love, compassion, mercy, reconciliation, hope, and grace. God can be found in a fancy Baptist church in rural North Carolina, but God can also be found in the ghetto of one of the poorest cities in America. God is present in the work of the CAC, and therefore present the in the lives of those struggling to survive.

I consider my act of service at the CAC a prayer to God with the community of East St. Louis. We are praying for a solution to the problem of poverty. We are praying for the children of the inner-city. We are praying for the expansion of Christ’s love. We are praying for those we don’t know, yet still love. We are praying for our world and those who live in it.