This Thursday, our Seminary community will take up what will undoubtedly be one of the most controversial topics ever addressed, let women in office: alcohol consumption by Christians. I've never quite known what to think about this subject, and I'll be the first to admit that my defenses for not drinking have changed over the years. In that light, it might be possible to say that I'm predisposed against alcohol consumption and therefore any argument I try and present is tainted because its simply a new sheath for an old sword. While that might be true, I've found lots of congruency in the holiness movement, understanding their approach to issues of social morality such as this, and I think its a helpful point to consider as I approach the town hall meeting on Thursday.
We have always been taught in Reformed circles that there are two types of people: those who try to earn their salvation (Catholics & holiness types) and those who rest in the election and consequent freedom of God's grace (Calvinists & Lutherans). Those are pretty distinct lines to draw. For one, there's no way that either tradition could totally rest in those categories and have any sort of relevancy. If Catholics and holiness traditions truly had no other purpose in theology than to try and achieve perfection, the movement would have fallen apart. Same with Calvinists/Lutherans: there has to be some moral and social conscience to temper Christian freedom (Paul's admission that all things are permissible for him is grossly expanded here).
I think both sides have their positives and negatives, but in the interest of space and time, I'm going to make an argument for the holiness side in the issue of alcohol consumption because I think it is more legitimate than my Calvinist colleagues are willing to admit.
First of all, we need a redefinition of "Christian freedom" from a holiness perspective. After all, they don't deny Christian freedom, but simply recategorize it. Instead of saying that Christian freedom is the right to do anything God doesn't specifically prohibit, it instead lays the doctrine at the feet of Jesus, saying that Christian freedom is the right to follow Christ more closely. See the difference? One is scouring the Bible for loopholes, while the other is giving the Bible the benefit of the doubt and filling in those cracks. Rather than not doing what the Bible doesn't say we can't do, holiness attempts to do more fully that which the Bible says we should do.
Secondly, the very definition of holiness has its roots in sanctification. Yes, John Wesley went to far at the end of his life, as others have, to promote a perfectionist doctrine. However, if you look at the roots of sanctification, its not pharisitical at all.....its the the same continuing sanctification Calvinists & Lutherans talk about. So if the rule of holiness is sanctification, then there is, at the very core of holiness, a concept of being "set apart". Yes, God sets us apart by dividing us from unbelievers at the last day, but lets think harder about this. How are we "set apart" during the week? Of course, this looks different for all of us. But in some way, we are all attempting to set ourselves apart from the world through moral action as the continuing work of sanctification is applied by the Holy Spirit. Paul continually calls us to a life that is different, a life that is "beyond reproach". In an age where alcohol has become the common currency of our culture, a legal drug, isn't it worth considering that maybe it is worth setting ourselves apart in this area - not in condemnation, but in faithful submission?
Thirdly, this is a different question for those in leadership or in future leadership than it is for laity. Sorry, but its true. In my current charge, my contract specifically states that neither my wife nor I are to drink any alcohol while employed by the church. My wife initially bucked this, not because she's a raging alcoholic (she's mostly given up alcohol for my sake), but because it violated her definition of Christian freedom. The church doesn't have a right to take that away! Well, thankfully, I've found a community that, like I, has chosen to use abstinence from alcohol as one way of "setting themselves apart". Its a very practical one in our congregation - we have several recovered alcoholics, several people with relatives who were victims of alcohol-related deaths, and people who are stuck with alcohol-related birth defects. Our community drinks their problems away - we do not. Now take this seriously, pastors and leadership in churches: you are held to a higher standard. Why are you willing to subject yourself to a suit & tie standard, a living-in-a-stinky-parsonage standard, a roast-pastor standard, a church polity standard, but not an alcohol-free standard? There's lots of things I don't do now that I'm a pastor that I might have done as a Christian in laity: TV shows, language, cigars, reckless driving, being a funny nuisance, playing pranks on Wal-Mart employees....all things I might not consider sinful, but also don't consider to reflect well on my church, reflect well on my congregation. Hanging out in a bar (and I would argue drinking at all) is one of those things.
Finally, there is the issue of the weaker brother. You may have been biting your tongue the entire time you read this, but now want to scream: "Why can't Christians reclaim alcohol for the Kingdom of God? Why can't we model a faithful use of alcohol?" While this is the one point at which I'm usually willing to yield the floor, I have continually been bombarded at the denominational seminary by drunkenness and pressure to drink. To this, I simply have to shake my head. My wife doesn't like it when I smoke cigars every once in a while. What would happen if I smoked them a lot and then blew the smoke in her face? You know. Well, I've got news for you, "Christian reclaimers of alcohol": don't blow smoke in our face. I'll stand with several of my respected colleagues and students who have consciously chosen not to drink for a variety of reasons: mine just so happens not to even be a moral objection. Additionally, Asian students, which comprise an ever-increasing chunk of our seminary community, are more offended by this than I am. There are constantly jokes made in classes and daily conversations at school about how commonplace alcohol is in social settings at our school. After many social invites comes a BYOB or a snicker about getting sloshed. Give me a break. Use that classis money with a little bit more dignity than blowing it on booze and then showing up at our school's food pantry to ask for food you can't afford. I am sad to say that I've had professors, staff people, graduated (& ordained) pastors, and students all joke about alcohol with me - with no acknowledgment that it might be offensive. Luckily, I'm past the point where open comments and joking about alcohol abuse offends me - heck, I'm a hockey player. What I don't like being told is that I would drink if I fully understood Christian freedom, especially when its slurred.
I guess at the end of day, I want for this topic what I want for all topics I post on this blog: recognize that there might just be two legitimate sides to every coin and perhaps we can show more tact and consideration for those who might suffer from alcoholism, have been affected by alcohol-related deaths/problems and those who choose not to drink out of conscientious objection. Are we able to have this debate as people who don't feel like we already know it all? I hope so, but I more so hope that we can have this debate sober.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Ecumenicity: The U.N. of the Church
Once again, my apologies for limited postings. This is a rough quarter for me, but I promise I'll get back at it. Its my last year at seminary, so there's lots of things to consider. And maybe sometime, like Ryan, I'll have to shut down my blog so I'm more marketable :) Until then, read on.
One of the blessings of my current job is that I've gotten the opportunity to dip my feet into the waters of ecumenism like never before. I've had experiences in the past of bi-lateral ecumenical projects, working with one or (at the most) two churches on a mutual interest. The sadness of the Greenville situation is that, with churches feeling the inevitable pocketbook pinch the parishoners are feeling, staff and programs are being cut at such an alarming rate that our only choice is to link up on things. Its a blessing in disguise.
I've gotten the opportunity most recently to be involved with a couple different community-wide youth ministry groups. What I find interesting is that when senior pastors get together, they often meet at a fancy restaurant and function largely as a social support group. Of course, that's needed, but what's been great about the youth groups is that they're very much action-oriented. It makes sense, after all, that we plan events together if our kids all go to the same schools and are faced by the same issues in the community. We get to pool our expertise and get to pool our knowledge.
Theoretically, this works, and, for the most part, I'm appreciative of them, like I said. But like anything, there's pitfalls. So, for as apt as I am to paint rosy pictures of ecumenicity, here goes some ventures of critique.
My main thesis is what my title says: ecumenical bodies look like and function like the U.N. Now why is that bad, you say? My wife will tell me that the U.N. is the greatest thing ever to happen to the world, and I'll agree to a point. The problem, of course, is two-fold. On the one hand, the U.N. gets held captive by the reluctant and the crazy and the rich (or some combination of the three). On the other hand, because the U.N. has the interests of everybody in mind, it really has the interests of nobody in mind. Its very similar in community ecumenical groups. When the senior pastor group runs a community dinner for poor people, the rich people foot the bill, the church with the most volunteers hold the most influence, and the few crazies in the group are the loudest ones of all, wagging their fingers at people, telling them they'll go to hell if they don't repent over their mashed potatoes. When the local ultra-fundamentalist church puts in their bulletin the following Sunday that 25 people "got saved" through the free turkey give-away, and the Methodist Church can't recall anyone coming to faith, you see the heart of the matter. Or consider the other scenario: the community youth pastors band together to host "insert-crazy-youth-event-here". Many kids come, but have no clue who put it on or how to move along in this new fascination they've found. If you allow one youth pastor to hand out business cards, you open the floodgates for crazy recruitment fairs instead of sensitive youth events.
Like everything, the answer has to be somewhere in the middle. If you read my blog a lot, you'll remember my comparison of the CRC folk and the Amish in our community. That's not a good alternative, but polite hand-shaking community events aren't the answer either. I've more and more been leaning on what Steve Anthony is doing in Toledo, OH. He runs an organization which unifies local churches like a denomination.....not based around doctrine, but based around common interests (ie, local poverty, local schools, gospel missions, shelters, etc.). So, you set up an administrator for the "ministry shares" to be dispensed instead of each church fighting the daily barrage of people asking for electric bill payments (my daily exercise of answering machine cleaning). In addition, the churches participate in mutual agreements about encouraging Christian accountability by fighting church shoppers. Each church agrees to not receive members (or even deter visitors) who have not made peace with their former congregation and been "released" by their council/board. Its radical, but its realistic and effective.
In the end, the needs will inform the means. If you're in a community like ours where needs are so great, then a coordinated effort of Anthony's model is about the best thing one can think of. In other scenarios, the needs may be different and so should the means. What this requires is a great degree of trust and a great deal of theological humility. To be sure, we in the CRC can take this lesson to heart, but its just as true of conservative Lutherans or Baptists, as well. We often practice what Pope Benedict preaches: our church is the only true church and the others are a nice try. Make the starting point "The Church" not, "our church" and maybe we'll start getting somewhere.
One of the blessings of my current job is that I've gotten the opportunity to dip my feet into the waters of ecumenism like never before. I've had experiences in the past of bi-lateral ecumenical projects, working with one or (at the most) two churches on a mutual interest. The sadness of the Greenville situation is that, with churches feeling the inevitable pocketbook pinch the parishoners are feeling, staff and programs are being cut at such an alarming rate that our only choice is to link up on things. Its a blessing in disguise.
I've gotten the opportunity most recently to be involved with a couple different community-wide youth ministry groups. What I find interesting is that when senior pastors get together, they often meet at a fancy restaurant and function largely as a social support group. Of course, that's needed, but what's been great about the youth groups is that they're very much action-oriented. It makes sense, after all, that we plan events together if our kids all go to the same schools and are faced by the same issues in the community. We get to pool our expertise and get to pool our knowledge.
Theoretically, this works, and, for the most part, I'm appreciative of them, like I said. But like anything, there's pitfalls. So, for as apt as I am to paint rosy pictures of ecumenicity, here goes some ventures of critique.
My main thesis is what my title says: ecumenical bodies look like and function like the U.N. Now why is that bad, you say? My wife will tell me that the U.N. is the greatest thing ever to happen to the world, and I'll agree to a point. The problem, of course, is two-fold. On the one hand, the U.N. gets held captive by the reluctant and the crazy and the rich (or some combination of the three). On the other hand, because the U.N. has the interests of everybody in mind, it really has the interests of nobody in mind. Its very similar in community ecumenical groups. When the senior pastor group runs a community dinner for poor people, the rich people foot the bill, the church with the most volunteers hold the most influence, and the few crazies in the group are the loudest ones of all, wagging their fingers at people, telling them they'll go to hell if they don't repent over their mashed potatoes. When the local ultra-fundamentalist church puts in their bulletin the following Sunday that 25 people "got saved" through the free turkey give-away, and the Methodist Church can't recall anyone coming to faith, you see the heart of the matter. Or consider the other scenario: the community youth pastors band together to host "insert-crazy-youth-event-here". Many kids come, but have no clue who put it on or how to move along in this new fascination they've found. If you allow one youth pastor to hand out business cards, you open the floodgates for crazy recruitment fairs instead of sensitive youth events.
Like everything, the answer has to be somewhere in the middle. If you read my blog a lot, you'll remember my comparison of the CRC folk and the Amish in our community. That's not a good alternative, but polite hand-shaking community events aren't the answer either. I've more and more been leaning on what Steve Anthony is doing in Toledo, OH. He runs an organization which unifies local churches like a denomination.....not based around doctrine, but based around common interests (ie, local poverty, local schools, gospel missions, shelters, etc.). So, you set up an administrator for the "ministry shares" to be dispensed instead of each church fighting the daily barrage of people asking for electric bill payments (my daily exercise of answering machine cleaning). In addition, the churches participate in mutual agreements about encouraging Christian accountability by fighting church shoppers. Each church agrees to not receive members (or even deter visitors) who have not made peace with their former congregation and been "released" by their council/board. Its radical, but its realistic and effective.
In the end, the needs will inform the means. If you're in a community like ours where needs are so great, then a coordinated effort of Anthony's model is about the best thing one can think of. In other scenarios, the needs may be different and so should the means. What this requires is a great degree of trust and a great deal of theological humility. To be sure, we in the CRC can take this lesson to heart, but its just as true of conservative Lutherans or Baptists, as well. We often practice what Pope Benedict preaches: our church is the only true church and the others are a nice try. Make the starting point "The Church" not, "our church" and maybe we'll start getting somewhere.
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