Thinking Christian

Sometimes I wonder whether, in all the debates about whether Christianity is true, we have our terms defined well enough. Atheists tell me often that atheism is not a belief system. Christianity is. But just what is this belief system?

Chuck Colson says “Christianity is the explanation for everything.” That’s a statement of scope, though, not of definition. It’s an important kind of statement, but not for the purpose of clarifying what Christians believe. By “Christianity” here, I am referring (and will continue to refer) to historic biblical Christianity, commonly expressed in the Western world in the form of Evangelicalism, and also present in Catholicism, Pentecostalism, Orthodox Christianity, and other branches of Christian belief. (Though these groups have some differences of opinion, generally they are not with respect to the topics coming in this series.)

So what is Christianity? It’s going to take some time to answer that, and what I write will be imperfect. But the answer must begin with God himself.

What I write about God, in particular, will be incomplete and imperfect. There are some who say God is so completely other that we cannot affirm anything at all about him. But he has made his own affirmations about himself. He is not unable to communicate with his creation, made in his own image (Genesis 1:27). So we can speak truly about God, even though not exhaustively. We cannot understand a fraction of God’s majesty, power, and greatness, but we can understand what he has enabled us to understand.

God stands at the center of our beliefs and of our worship, for he is Creator; eternal, all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good, all-loving, all-just, all-wise. He is the only God.

Let’s try for a moment to taste of his majesty. Before the world began there was God, and he created the universe out of nothing, by the word of his command. This speaking could not have been like ours; there was nothing physical about it, no mouth, no voice, no sound waves. Just as it is no great effort for healthy humans to speak, though, the Bible indicates that God’s creative word did not tax him. He spoke and it came to be.

It was creation; it was creative. From the intricacies of the cell to the glory of the galaxies, God’s artistry and craftsmanship are displayed with great glory.

It was magnificent in its extent. Here’s a field trip you can take to your own back yard, to get a picture of this (and you really need to see this for yourself in the sky, not just in a photo). In a few months you’ll be able to see the winter constellation Orion in the evening sky. Orion is one of the easiest of all constellations to find and identify; for centuries we’ve seen it as the hunter, with his belt and his sword. In his shoulder there is one star that is quite noticeably redder than the others (you can see this even from most city locations). That star is Betelgeuse (no relation to the movie of the same name). It’s just a tiny pinprick of light in the sky. Not much to look at, perhaps? But this pinprick of light is larger than our sun, which could hold 1.3 million earths. It’s larger, in fact, than the orbit of the inner planet Mercury. Larger than that, actually: it would encompass the entire orbit of Earth around the sun. But no—larger yet! Our fourth planet, Mars, has an orbit smaller than the diameter of that tiny pinprick of light. If my math is correct, Betelgeuse could contain up to 70 million of our suns, or 9 trillion earths.

And it’s just one very small point in a much, much larger universe.

It was creation out of nothing. Not to trivialize the point, but maybe you’ve heard the old joke in which the scientist challenges God, “I could make a man!” God says, “Okay, let’s put it to the test.” God reaches down and picks up a handful of dirt, and so does the scientist. God interrupts him: “Hang on there, now—get your own dirt!”

I’ll bet you haven’t thought of it this way, though: God didn’t take nothing and make a universe out of it. There was no nothing. There was only God, “who fills all in all.” In a sense God created nothing, for had he not created the something that is the universe, the conception of nothing would be meaningless. Has any human artist matched that? Or perhaps we could say the first step in God’s creative act must have been to come up with the idea of otherness, for there was no other than God. Has any other artist approached such a bold leap of creative ingenuity?

I realize there is ineffability here, some incoherence in try to speak of God’s logic, or of sequences “before” time. These do not, however, diminish the reality of God’s creative genius. His creativity is but one aspect of his multi-faceted majesty.

There’s so much more of God to explore. I strongly encourage you to continue studying God, and for that I highly recommend DiscoverGod.com.

References: Genesis 1, Revelation 4:11, Psalm 41:13, Exodus 34:6-7, Deuteronomy 10:17, Habakkuk 3:6, Isaiah 40:10-26, Psalm 33:9, Ephesians 1:23.

A new survey finds that many Americans can’t define the term “evangelical Christian.”

[Link: Americans have difficulty defining 'evangelical' (OneNewsNow.com) ]

Apparently it’s a timely question.

At the core of Christianity—at the core of everything—there is God, uniquely revealed in Jesus Christ. From the earth-bound, human perspective, Christianity is primarily about being in a right relationship with God through Christ. This is a many-faceted relationship involving reconciliation with God, experiencing his forgiveness and intimate love, learning his character and living consistently with his ways, studying his works, reflecting his creativity through our own expressiveness, and more.

Wrapped around in all of this is worship.

I suspect that’s a concept that seems foreign, even a little weird, to non-Christian readers. (It’s hard enough for us believers to grasp!) If I could present a good non-religious analogue to worship it would help, but I’m not sure there is one, especially in egalitarian America. The closest parallel I can think of is the historic regard with which kings and queens have been treated by their subjects, but even with that there are problems. First, among American readers there is the instant gut reaction, “But all men are created equal!” (Women too, but I was quoting the Declaration of Independence.) We can’t bring ourselves to believe it’s right to bow the knee to another person. Second, in spite of differences in station, it’s true: we are all of equal worth, so it really isn’t right to bow before another.

So then who is God that we should bow the knee to him? Is he any different? The question seems ludicrous on its face, yet we’ve gotten it wrong. It was the quest to be like God, to be independent of him, that was the downfall of the first humans (Genesis 3; especially Genesis 3:5; see also Ezekiel 28:1-19, which most commentators believe also refers to the fall of Lucifer). It’s a mistake that has been at the core of all our problems since then. The same desire for independence from God runs rampant still.

True worship begins in seeing God for who he is, and ourselves for who we are: the unfathomable distance between Creator and created, Infinite and small, Holy and sinful, Self-existent and contingent (we derive all that we are from him, while he is who he is necessarily and of himself). Worship in other words is a natural response to seeing the Supernatural, recognizing its infinite and personal reality.

It is moreover a love response to a loving God, who gave himself for us so that we could be brought near to him. As we read in Colossians 1:13-14:

He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

To worship is to take a stance of submission, of yieldedness to God. A professor I had in college, himself an atheist, related something an Episcopal priest had said to him. It was a cute yet very appropriate twist on a familiar phrase: You worship God your way, and I’ll worship him his. For how could anyone say, “I’ll worship God my way,” and be thinking of anything remotely like real worship? It would be like saying, “God, I acknowledge your great majesty and supremacy, how marvelous and loving and awesome you are; and yet if you don’t mind, sire, I’ll decide for myself how I think I ought to follow you, because I think I can figure you out for myself..”

I’m not saying Christians have it all figured out how to worship God in the way that pleases him most. What I’m saying is that this is our goal, our quest, our intention. We believe God knows himself truly and has revealed himself truly, and that to some extent we can truly know him and grow in that knowledge. We seek to understand God for who he is, not for who we may think him to be. We know that such understanding is given to us not through our wisdom but by his grace.

Worship, then, is based in our relationship with God and in experiential knowledge of who he is. Churches often speak of having a “worship time,” meaning a time of singing and praying together. That’s fine as long as we don’t misunderstand: true worship is expressed through the whole life. We practice it through the gladness of song, yes, but also through the bodily expressions of submission (one word for worship in the Bible means literally “to bend the knee”), the intimacy of prayer, the view we have of God in fellow believers, and the regular disciplines of seeking to know him better and follow him more fully.

Back to the core again, then: God is at the center. Worship is about recognizing that reality, and expressing it through all that we are and all we do.

I’ve been spiritually dry lately. This morning I decided to let God’s word remind me of Jesus Christ’s position at the center of everything,  for which I turned to Ephesians 1:3-14. It begins, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places. . . ” It continues by listing some of those blessings: forgiveness, sharing in God’s holiness, being adopted into the family of God, knowing the mystery of his will, experiencing the promise and presence of the Holy Spirit, and more. One phrase sums it up: “the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us.”

Read through this at the link above, and you may get the same sense I do: that Paul (the author) was fairly tripping over his words, trying to express the inexpressible. Translators have trouble telling where one sentence ends and another begins (the original Greek had no punctuation). The passage is packed with meaning. Paul uses some rather technical language to accomplish this, so some readers will prefer to read Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase in The Message instead of a more literal rendering. Even there, though, Paul’s sense of praise and glory overflows; the computer screen (if that’s where you are reading it) is fairly dripping with the deluge of Paul’s gratefulness for God’s blessing.

It is all centered in one place: six times in this passage it says “in Christ” or the equivalent, “in him.” All of this goodness we receive, we receive in Jesus Christ. Jesus had said (John 10:10), “I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly,” or to the maximum.

Somehow, incomprehensibly, some people have gotten a picture that following Christ is dull, rule-bound, and restricted. Nothing could be further from the truth. My dryness of late has come from being distant from him as the source, not from following him! It’s like life without music, without trees and grass and flowers. But the closer I’m connected to him, the more alive I am!

Contemplating Christ is uplifting just because of who he is. No person in history has taught such a high standard of love and giving; and no person has so clearly lived out that standard. There is something energizing in thinking thoughts of greatness. There is more than that going on here, though. It’s not just Christ’s example, it’s his actual gift of life to us. He is not just an uplifter of life, he is the source of all true life. Fullness of life comes only in him, for he is Creator, Redeemer, the only true Son of God.

We have passages like this in God’s word to remind us of this. We grow dull (as I have) by forgetting (or rejecting) his gift of lavish love and grace, thinking that we have what it takes apart from him. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve talked to who attest to the huge, qualitative change when they have committed their lives to Christ, as if the scales fell off their eyes and they saw and felt what’s real for the first time. I experienced the same. I continue to experience it, and I can (once again) attest to the difference it makes when I draw close to Jesus Christ as my source of life.

The truth, explained by God in his word, and demonstrated in the experience of millions of Christ-followers, is that real life is in Christ alone. And what a great life it is!

We are hearing increasing reports of Christians being persecuted in Sudan, Indonesia, the Philippines, Belarus, India, and elsewhere. Even in North America, what seems to be incipient persecution has increased of late, possibly a sign of more to come. In light of that, let us consider the “living hope” of 1 Peter 1:3-7 (ESV).

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

There is a hinge point in this passage: “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while … you have been grieved by various trials.” Another translation uses “distressed” as an alternate for “grieved.” The author (Peter, a disciple of Christ when Jesus walked on the earth) wanted his readers to know that no matter how bad it may get, believers in Christ can still rejoice. Jesus himself said (e.g., Matthew 5:10-12) that we can be glad in him even if it is our belief in him that increases our difficulties, that is, even if we are persecuted for following him.

Following Jesus Christ may (for some people) cost a lot, but the cost will always be more than worth it. The living hope that we have in Christ makes it worthwhile.

Hope, in New Testament usage, is rarely (if ever) of the maybe-but-I-don’t know sort, as for example, “I hope Michigan State wins the football game against Penn State next Saturday.” It is rather a confident expectation of a good future. It is the emotional encouragement provided by faith, the inner heart uplift that enables one to keep going.

It has been said that the greatest single predictor of suicide is hopelessness. I went through a rather profound period of depression once, lasting somewhere between six months and a year. There were times I dreaded getting up and facing the day. Yet by the grace of God I knew there was hope, and that it would get better. I cannot imagine the blackness of depression for those who have lost hope as well as joy. For that period I was certainly hindered by the depression, but I was able to keep on going. That’s the emotional power of hope.

Without some sort of solid grounding, the hope of which Peter speaks would be no better than my hope that my college will win the game next week. The resurrection of Jesus Christ provides that assurance. The game has already been played; the fight has already been fought. Life wins, and death is defeated.

This is reality. Resting in that reality is a matter of faith. The reality is not dependent on our faith; but our confidence, our joy, our rejoicing (why is that word so out of place in today’s culture?) are. Peter speaks of faith’s “tested genuineness.” Most of us reading here have faced tests of one kind or another; if not persecution (of which nothing approaching the real thing has yet reached the Western world), then health problems, economic struggles, conflict, crime, separations, war, injustice. To the extent that we continue to have joy in Christ, to that extent our faith has “tested genuineness.”

We can imagine genuine persecution, the sort that really tests us with a choice: follow Christ and face death (or death of a family member, which to me would be far worse); renounce him and “all will be well for you.” Peter is saying that the former is better than the latter. Trials and distress in Christ are better than apparent peace apart from him.

For many in history this has been a real decision to be made. For many today it still is.

Let us focus a moment on that word “real.” People are really choosing pain, separation from family, imprisonment, economic loss, and death, because they believe the living hope of Christ’s resurrection is real. Peter himself, who had first-hand opportunity to know whether that hope was real, made the same choice.

This is not virtual-world stuff, and (a reminder for all of us bloggers!) it’s not just an intellectual game to play. The living hope of Jesus Christ makes all the difference in the real world, in good times and in distress. For followers of Christ, there is “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you.” We can count on it; we can live by it; we can stand firm in that good hope.