True, but....

I recently heard a radio preacher use the word antinomy.  It must be a technical word because I have never heard it used in the way he used it.  I am familiar (from my Christian Reconstructionist days) with the word antinomian, meaning someone who rejects the binding nature of the law of God (for a variety of different reasons), but the sense in which it was used on the radio was closer to the definition I found in Merriam Websters dictionary...."a contradiction between two apparently equally valid principles, a fundamental and apparently unresolvable conflict or contradiction."  The speaker was referring to some of the mysteries we commonly hold in our study of the scripture, free will versus divine sovereignty, God is love versus the wrath of God, created in the image of God versus total corruption, and others like those.

We do not naturally feel drawn to such things because we have been drilled that there is absolute truth, that this absolute truth is knowable by revelation, and that this revelation is given to us in the written Bible.  Thus we have the common proverb "God says it, I believe it, that settles it."  But when God says, or does, or shows forth two things that in themselves are true but which are the opposite of each other, then we are forced into the mental and verbal gymnastics that fill even the best of commentaries.  And the argument that these are just two sides of the same coin is an analogy that falls short in my estimation, because anyone who has won or lost a bet on a coin flip knows that which side of the coin lands up takes precedence over the side that is down.  It is that very coin flip that has split arminianism from calvinism, or universalists from fundamentalist.

I don't have much more to comment on this, nor do I remember much of how the radio preacher dealt with the apparent antinomy he had in mind.  I merely think we would be better served if more of our teachers would dare to admit that they do not have a clue as to how two characteristically opposite truths can be true at the same time.  It would be much more honest than cobbling together a system of intricate verbal arguments that seem to me to be nothing but a house of cards waiting for a stray breeze to scatter them.  Let's accept the fact that our "professionals" cannot really adequately explain the tensions in Christian revelation and living to us, and let us seek to live our lives well in the moment, trusting to the one who holds our souls in His hand.

Who is Welcome at the Table of the Lord?

I have recently been doing some historical research into the concept of who is welcome to partake of the table of the Lord at communion after the topic came up at our last elder's meeting.  I was surprised that there are actually three defensible positions that exist in the church.  From most liberal to most strict they are as follows (and I simplify their positions for the sake of presentation because there are nuances to each of them).  Open communion allows anyone in the service who is saved to partake of communion.  Some churches say that those who love Jesus are welcome, or even just those that are seeking God may come.  Using this definition even sincere unbelievers can be included in the table.  Close communion is a middle ground, and restricts communion to those that are saved and baptized, and who are of "like faith and practice", meaning you believe the same things and practice your spirituality in roughly the same way.  In theory a Lutheran could probably come to an Episcopal table, but it is unlikely that a Baptist would (sacramental view versus ordinance).  Closed communion restricts the table to those that are saved, baptized and members in good standing of the local congregation or denomination, period.  So which is right?  Or as it was broached at the elder's meeting, which one is the correct "bible" position?  In theory that sounds good, but in practice it's not so easy to decide since parts of the church hold each of the positions and can defend their practice with Chapter and Verse.

I have practiced my Christianity under each of the three and what I am going to offer now is my own opinion based not on bible verses or even historic church practices, but on what seems to fit the Jesus that I know best.  I know that this may be grounds for immediate dismissal, condemnation for making God in my image and likeness and synthesizing my religion into what works for me.  But sometimes, just sometimes, the old formula "What would Jesus do" works better for me than dogma or doctrine.  And I think that what Jesus would do is say "Come to me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest."  He would choose to eat with open and profligate sinners and tax collectors.  He would break bread saying "I am the bread of life..." while giving it to any that had their hand out.  I don't think that He would have built a fence around His table but would have invited all to taste and see that the Lord and His graciousness is indeed good.

They say we are to worship God in spirit and in truth.  I have worshiped God in truth to the detriment of all else, making every exercise of my faith a division, an exclusion, a marking out, a drawing of lines and deciding what side I am on.  For now, I choose to worship God in spirit, and given the choice between living in truth or living in love, I will err on the side of love.  I for one, am not going to be part of the communion police, deciding who is saved, who is in good standing, who is truly walking in the light.  It's the Lord's table, I will trust Him to sort it out in the end.

Stained Glass Theology

We have this great stained glass window at the front of our church with a glittering bible ensconced at the very center point and the words "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path" arrayed around it.  And while is is beautiful to look at and makes the best use of the prevailing sunlight, I wondered how the Bible became the central focal point of our Protestant worship?  Why has the written word of God displaced the living word of God, Jesus?

I think that if we were Jesus centered rather than word centered (and I know that there are some who would accuse me of splitting hairs), our churches would look different in practice.  Our prayers might have a real power to them as we prayed to and with Jesus, rather than praying theologically correct "in the name of Jesus."  I don't think we would spend much pulpit time expounding deep theological mysteries, or the relationship of law to grace, or correct doctrine.  I think we would spend most of our time in the gospels, telling again the marvelous story of Jesus and His love. And I think we would spend much more time contemplatively, listening at His feet as Mary did, rather than making much ado about nothing as Martha did.

I get the sense that this is the right thing to do.  It says in Hebrews that God spoke to us in many times and ways, but in these last days spoke by His Son.  Jesus said that if we have seen Him, we have seen the Father, and warned that we search the scriptures because we think that in them we have life, but it is the scriptures that bear witness to Him.  I already have significant heartburn about how evangelicals have taken the word of God and put it in the place of God Himself.  If that printed bible was so vital to the life of the church, I wonder how Christianity survived that first 1500 years when people did not have access to a printed bible, when even if they did many might not be able to read and understand the archaic languages.  I would tend to think that their faith was placed in a person, not a page, that right relationship was more important than right doctrine, and that made all the difference in their lives.