by Steve | Jan 21, 1989 | Archive - 1989
Archive: Fake Fruit
By Mark Rutland
Desperate for employment, a depression-era farmer applied at a passing circus. At the circus office door he made an impassioned plea.
“I’ll do anything,” he begged.
At this the manager’s eyes lit up. “You’re hired,” he nearly shouted, embracing the shocked indigent. “I need a new gorilla. The old one has died, and we cannot afford to import one. We have skinned old Kong out, and I need someone to wear the suit and do the gorilla act.”
The farmer’s reluctance dissolved at the mention of a sizable salary. Pride gave way to necessity, and his new career was launched.
As it turned out, the wheat-farmer-turned-ape-man rather enjoyed it. His act was dramatic and crowd-pleasing. He would swing out over the lion’s cage on a rope and chatter excitedly at the enraged beast below. The rope was carefully measured, and any actual danger seemed minimal.
But during a kiddie matinee in Oklahoma a miscalculation brought catastrophe, and the gorilla tumbled into the lion’s cage. The lion leapt upon him immediately and, placing a massive paw on either of the gorilla’s shoulders, began to roar in his face.
“Help,” screamed the man in the gorilla costume. “Help me! Someone please save me!”
“Shut up, you fool!” the lion whispered in his ear. “You’ll get us both fired.”
Unfortunately a great deal of what passes for true Christianity is nothing more than monkey-suit religion. The calamitous condition of the contemporary church is that she has a fair idea of what a Christian looks like. Hence, she can, if only for short periods of time and with varying degrees of success, imitate it. Granted, the criterion may vary because of local or cultural differences, and some may be more gifted than others at articulating it, but the fact remains that an immutable portrait of a Christian has achieved something of a universal, if somewhat shadowy, consensus.
Revival Turns to Riot
The primitive church at, say, Colosse in the first century A.D. had no such luxury. The word Christian had never existed, and the pedantic definitions of churchmanship awaited the arrival of the 20th century.
As Paul preached revival, power exploded in the streets of a Turkish seaport named Ephesus. The flames of burning magic books lit the blue-collar neighborhoods near the waterfront. There was an initial outpouring of the Holy Ghost accompanied by a variety of spiritual gifts which gave rise to a general spark of conviction. The longing for holiness among Ephesus’ new converts began almost immediately to cut into the profits of the local purveyors of idolatry.
Revival quickly turned to riot, and Paul reluctantly yielded to the pleas of his friends and moved to higher ground. He did not leave, however, before the seeds of revival were airborne.
The Church bloomed wild. Without benefit of proper clergy or church-growth experts, the churches of Colosse and Laodicea sprang to life in the white heat of revival. Later, as wolves came upon them with the impossible burdens of law, the precious innocence of early faith began to erode.
In Colossians 1:27 Paul moved past the basic problem of the law versus grace for salvation and dealt with an even more fundamental issue: How do I live as a Christian? What does it mean to live a holy life? What is the secret of true holiness?
The secret, Paul said, “is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
The secret of the gospel and of holiness, which was hidden from Moses and Abraham, is now revealed in the Church. The secret is simply the indwelling fullness of Christ in the earthen vessels of human beings.
Some have called it the “second blessing,” the “second work of grace,” the “deeper work,” the “higher path” or the “fullness of Pentecost.” John the Baptist called it being baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost (Luke 3:16, KJV). Jesus used the same terminology in Acts 1. Call it the baptism with the Holy Spirit or call it the second touch. It does not matter so much what you call it; it matters very much that you have it.
The filling of the Holy Spirit is not an option. It is God’s command that we receive the Holy Spirit, and it is God’s promise that we may.
The heart baptized in the Holy Spirit becomes a spring of living water. As the inner heart of a person is changed, his or her outward life will necessarily change. Holiness becomes less a matter of obeying rules and more a matter of partaking of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4).
Weeping Into the Dishwater
The absolute necessity of the baptism of the Holy Spirit is not being preached in America. Consequently there is a host of nice, decent, saved, church-going housewives who find themselves weeping into the dishwater every morning after the kids leave for school, with no idea why. They know something is missing, but they do not know what to ask for.
It is for their sakes and for businessmen, high school students, missionaries and believers of every age and station who cannot seem to find the flow of real life in their faith that the baptism with the Holy Spirit must be preached.
They have believed for salvation and often can articulate their assurance, but they are unable to love, live, give and forgive with any liberty. They probably are even aware of the Holy Spirit as a comforter, guide and companion. They have not, however, found the great release of the Spirit whereby He flows from them in a river of life.
Most teachings on the fruit of the Spirit only document what the fruit is and leave its production to the hearers. So, naturally, disciples despair because, try as they might, they never seem able to manufacture the fruit.
The fruit of the Spirit, much like nectarines and bananas, can be artificially duplicated to an extent. Such fruit is, however, a waxen, tasteless and not-nutritious deception because it is manufactured, not borne. Its artificiality is manifestly and nauseatingly apparent at first bite. It is only in untouched repose on the coffee table that ersatz bananas dare to pass themselves off as genuine.
Just so, the lives of many in the Church are a constant whirl of polishing and posing-shiny, plastic apples with a dark inner reality. The genuine fruit of the Spirit is not for still life arrangements on dusty pianos. In the crucible of daily life the indwelling Holy Spirit buds, blossoms and bears the true fruit of the character of Christ.
The key to Pentecostal power is Upper Room brokenness. To come fully alive in the supernatural power of God, one must die to the world’s grasp. The corrupting clutch of worldliness will not be shaken off easily; it is a fight to the death.
Masterpieces Smashed to Pieces
I once read an anthropological study of an ancient temple in Asia. Its altar area was literally buried under shards of pottery. The study explained that the people in that region were pottery makers who regularly sacrificed the fruit of their craft to their god.
Having created their masterpieces, that work which stood to gain them the most fame and profit, the craftsmen would take the vessels into the temple and smash them to pieces before their stone god. The broken fragments were mute testimony that in sacrificial worship the craftsmen had given up all hope of gain from the vessels.
This is the perfect picture of what Hudson Taylor called “the exchanged life.” Only when I am a broken vessel on the altar of a living God can I know the power of His life in and through me.
David Seamands once said, “We receive the Holy Spirit broken in our brokenness.” I cannot, of course, know all that those words meant to him.
To me, however, they seem to say that brokenness is our lot by virtue of the Curse and our own wretched sin. As long as we cling to our brokenness, owning it to ourselves, imposing on it some fleshly semblance of wholeness, we will never know His power.
When the pride of self-ownership is broken by our brokenness and we see ourselves as we really are, in utter self-abandonment we can cast the shards of our lives before I AM; and He will receive and restore them to wholeness. God longs to fill every believer with the Holy Spirit
We must understand there are two sides to sanctification. There is that sense in which I sanctify myself to God. At the same time my dedication must be fully met by His work of grace.
In addition, He must sanctify me to Himself. The miracle is not that sinners cast their poor, broken lives on His altar; the miracle is that He receives those lives and declares them acceptable in His sight
The few verses at the end of Zechariah are provocative indeed; they speak of a new day of holiness.
On that day HOLY TO THE LORD will be inscribed on the bells of the horses and the cooking pots in the Lord’s house will be like the sacred bowls in front of the altar. Every pot in Jerusalem and Judah will be holy to the LORD Almighty (14:20-21a, NIV).
To the ancient Jew these must have been strange words indeed. Everyone knew the sacred, golden bowls and vessels dedicated for use in the Lord’s house were not the same as saucepans in a squalid hut. In this passage the prophet brings new light to holiness.
Holiness is not just for the religious parts of life. Peeling potatoes, no less than prayer, belongs to God. Saturday night, no less than Sunday morning, must bear the sacred inscription, “Holy to the Lord.”
Zechariah says that even the tiniest, ornamental bridle bells must be no less consecrated to God than the altar vessels. In our lives this must mean that the most peripheral, unreligious aspects in our lives must be as dedicated to God as our thoughts at a prayer meeting.
The Holiness Hounds
The frivolity of many charismatics with respect to worldliness and sensuality is an embarrassment to the body of Christ It is as though some charismatics believe that speaking in tongues is all that matters.
We have all excused much in the name of the newness and liberty of the Spirit Now, however, it is past time we lovingly confront some garish inconsistencies in the body of Christ
At the risk of being accused of legalism, surely there is some way we can point out that Spirit-filled women really ought not look like streetwalkers, and Spirit-filled businessmen and attorneys must not participate in the cut-throat ethics of the world. Immoral, materialistic slaves to fashion hardly bespeak the fruit of the Spirit of Jesus.
We cannot sanctify our hearts by changing our wardrobes or not using tobacco, but surely if our hearts are clean our wardrobes and ambitions will eventually reflect that condition.
What, however, can be the rationale for Spirit-filled people leaving their spouses because “God doesn’t want us unhappy”? How can we justify television preachers lavishing two-million-dollar homes on themselves “because God has been mighty good”?
Ironically, the holiness set has seen the ethical side of heart holiness quite clearly, yet has often missed some profound implications. Quite frankly, some of the most cold-blooded, steely-eyed, gossipy, backbiting, unloving, waspish, uncharitable people in the Church are virtual holiness hounds. I have seen some folks shout, run the aisles and hold up one hand while singing old holiness hymns, only to stomp out in fury if someone dared hold up both hands. That, they believe, is charismatic!
No wonder many in the mainline denominations no longer take the holiness message seriously. If this generation is going to experience a sustained move of the Holy Spirit it must hear a gripping message of love and power.
Neither loveless holiness dogma nor flippant charismatic disregard for holy living will open the door to revival. The message for this day is nothing more nor less than scriptural Christianity.
It is the message of the changed heart, baptized in love, separated unto God and ministering in apostolic power! The primitive, unfettered, sanctified holy Church with all its graces and gifts intact is the only sufficient instrument of power to address this confused generation.
Mark Rutland is an approved UM evangelist and is president and founder of the Trinity Foundation. This article is excerpted from Mark Rutland’s book The Finger of God, published by Bristol Books in 1988.
by Steve | Jan 20, 1989 | Archive - 1989
Archive: What in the World is America?
Is our example of freedom an inspiration to the world? Or is it an impediment?
By Richard John Neuhaus
Unlike most other historic powers, America is not a nation by demographic and geographic accident, nor is it demarcated by the force of arms. America is a people on purpose and by purpose. America is self-consciously an invention in need of regular renewal by re-invention. It is an idea restlessly in search of and always falling short of secure embodiment. And the central idea animating the search is that of freedom.
This may seem to be a romantic view of the American experience, but I believe America is, to most people, an idea. Between those who believe freedom is a truth to be advanced and those who believe it is a myth to be debunked, there is no dispute that freedom is the issue.
A century ago it was routinely asserted that America was the chief source of the hope for universal freedom and felicity. Today among some Americans it is as routinely asserted that America and its influence in the world are the chief obstacles to universal liberation and equality.
Americans need an excuse for their country’s being so very big and so very blessed. American leaders have regularly articulated America’s sense of singular, even providential, moral purpose. Today, statements made by our Founding Fathers are both parodied as pretentious and reverently recalled in an effort to “turn America around” to its constituting vision.
Lincoln called America “the last best hope of man on earth.” In this century Woodrow Wilson has been scorned as well as cheered for a similar intuition regarding the American mission. But almost every presidential administration has engaged itself in national missiology.
Some evidences of this are Roosevelt’s “four freedoms,” Carter’s regard for human rights and Reagan’s trumpet call for a “crusade for democracy.”
Until recently the Protestant mainline—those churches belonging to the National Council of Churches and the World Council of Churches—had unquestioned leadership in relating religion to culture, society and politics. That leadership has eroded as more and more of those who speak for the mainline have succumbed to the “great reversal” of world history. That is, though America was once considered the bearer of a universal promise, it is now condemned as the carrier of the disease of imperialist capitalist oppression. It is both fair and accurate to say that among the bureaucrats most responsible for “church and society” issues this assumption about America’s vicious influence in world history is pervasive.
A recent Roper survey done for This World magazine proposed: “On balance, and considering the alternatives, American influence is a force for good in the world today.” Among the teachers of theology and religion who responded, barely half agreed with the proposition; the rest were unsure or in disagreement.
The mainline Protestant elite have wearied of providing a religiously-grounded, moral legitimation for the American idea of democracy and its defense and advance in the world. (Moral legitimation does not mean uncritical affirmation. Rather, it refers to that sense of purpose by which the experiment can be criticized within the context of essential affirmation.) There is a large sector of the American religious community, however, that is not at all shy about moving into the vacuum.
This group is called the Religious New Right and is best known as the Moral Majority. Since its appearance many in the “liberal mainline” and the secular media have declared that it is a momentary aberration in American life—a blip on the screen, as it were. Those who believe that the moral majoritarians will soon go away are, I believe, whistling in the dark. Emerging from the worlds of evangelicalism and fundamentalism, the moral majoritarians represent millions of Americans who are coming in from a 50-year exile.
For decades it was assumed, with some justice, that these folks were politically and socially quietist, resigned to the reign of “unbelievers” in this world while focusing their attention on the world to come. Today a substantial part of this community has gone political, making a strong bid to become the new elite in the moral legitimation of American life.
The Religious New Right is now strident and confrontational. It is curious that the idea of “Christian America” is almost the exclusive property of what is viewed as the radical right. Yet as recently as 1931 the Supreme Court of the United States (in U.S. vs. Macintosh) observed that America was a Christian nation.
From a sociological view it is evident that the majority of Americans are Christians, and they consciously attribute their values to the Judeo-Christian tradition. Until the 1960s the assertion that America was a Christian nation would also have been considered indisputable in most mainline and liberal Protestant churches.
The idea that America is a “secular society” is of relatively recent vintage. The militant religionists of the New Right charge that the idea is propagated by a small cabal of secular humanists who have, with the collusion of the courts, interpreted the doctrine of “separation of church and state” as the removal of religion from public policy. However extreme the charges from the Religious New Right, I believe they have alerted us to troublesome changes in our culture.
Today, unless democratic rights are undergirded by religious values, they provide a feeble opposition to the excesses of majority rule. In historical terms the democratic ideal is naked to assaults from other belief systems, notably of Marxist-Leninist rule. It may be that among those who have experienced Marxist-Leninist rule firsthand, few find it a plausible belief system. Lacking that experience, however, many American intellectuals and religious leaders are enamored with what Peter Berger terms an alternative “plausibility structure,” an alternative way of “putting the world together.” This explains in part the excitement and sense of fresh discovery with which sundry versions of “Christian Marxism” are being embraced.
The task today is to re-establish the links between Judeo-Christian religion and the democratic experiment It is not enough that there is a general religious revival. Unless the ideal of democratic freedom is conceptually revitalized, the energies of religious revival could also be moved into antidemocratic directions.
The connections between religion and democracy in the European context are different in many respects. Note, for instance, the dramatic difference in the vitalities of institutionalized religion in Europe today. I make no apology for dwelling on the American situation, however. It is what I know best.
In addition, America and its influence in the world are, for better or worse, the chief bearers of the democratic ideal today and for the foreseeable future. This is not a statement of hubris but an acknowledgement of the fact that, in the absence of American example and influence, it is hard to see how the democratic proposition could be a significant agent of world-historical change.
This returns us then to the idea of an American moral purpose, even a kind of destiny. The notion of “manifest destiny” is widely pilloried today, yet destiny is but another word for purpose.
The American destiny may not be manifest today. Lincoln spoke of America as an “almost chosen” people, and he agonized over the ways in which providential purpose may have been entangled with the conflicts of his day. With the same modesty, but also the same urgency and courage, we must reconsider the meaning of America in a global context.
Wolfhart Pannenberg, a theologian at the University of Munich, is doing this with great care. In Human Nature, Election, and History he dares to propose that we reconsider the meaning of election as a category for understanding contemporary politics among nations. If America is elected by God, he suggests, it is not because of any inherent moral superiority. Rather, it is because America has a singular opportunity, and therefore a singular responsibility, to advance human freedom.
This is an audacious line of inquiry that runs counter to prevailing biases in American and Western thinking. But for a people incorrigibly religious, for a nation with the soul of a church, it is a line of inquiry that must not be evaded. The alternatives are an increased corrosion of confidence and a more severe de-legitimation of the democratic experiment, so that the field of world-historical change will be left to ideational forces that are hostile to freedom. The corrosion may already be too far advanced. The “naked public square” may be so entrenched that it will successfully resist redirection by religiously-grounded values.
Yet I believe ours is a moment, perhaps even a biblical kairos, in which we are called upon to resume Lincoln’s explorations into providential purpose.
America may not be the last best hope of man on earth, but for men and women who are committed to democratic freedom, the world’s future would be bleak without America’s example and influence. Islands of democratic freedom could be sustained in an otherwise totalitarian and authoritarian world, but the hope that humanity’s future will be one of democratic freedom could not be sustained. For this reason much of our future depends on the moral and religious re-legitimation of the most democratic idea in America.
Malcolm Muggeridge has written:
“If I accept, as millions of other Western Europeans do, that America is destined to be the mainstay of freedom in this mid-twentieth-century world, it does not follow that American institutions are perfect, that Americans are invariably well behaved or that the American way of life is flawless. It only means that in one of the most terrible conflicts in human history I have chosen my side, as all will have to choose sooner or later, and propose to stick by the side I have chosen through thick and thin, hoping to have sufficient courage not to lose heart, sufficient sense not to allow myself to be confused or deflected from this purpose and sufficient faith in the civilization to which I belong and in the religion on which that civilization is based, to follow Bunyan’s advice and endure the hazards and humiliations of the way because of the worth of the destination.”
Is America really that critical to our world’s future? Yes, I believe it is. As an American, I wish it were not so.
Richard John Neuhaus is director of the Rockford Institute Center on Religion and Society. This article is excerpted from his essay in the book On Freedom, edited by John A. Howard. (1984 Copyright by Devin-Adair Publishing, Inc., Greenwich, CT 06830. Used by permission.)
by Steve | Jan 19, 1989 | Archive - 1989
Archive: In Search of Heaven
By James S. Robb
Funerals affect people in different ways. Some people are tearful; others are depressed. A few brave spirits try to be joyful.
I’m usually awestruck.
We Christians are expert rhetoricians. We talk endlessly about such weighty things as assurance of salvation; sometimes our talk seems abstract, even unreal. But not at funerals. Seeing my friend lying dead in a steel box takes all the carelessness out of me. I find myself whispering, “They’re about to put him into the ground,” like I’d never heard of that happening before.
And I think, while staring at the body, that the ultimate promise of our faith isn’t so abstract after all. The subject of heaven becomes immediate.
Right then, when my interest in heaven is piqued, comes the letdown; the pastor preaches the standard sermon. Heaven is mentioned only sparingly. When the funeral is over almost everyone wants to change the subject. That’s just the way it is.
One afternoon while sitting in my office I flipped over to Phil Yancey’s column in Christianity Today titled “Heaven Can’t Wait.” He had the same concern I did! Yancey questioned why we modems, even we evangelicals, say so little on the subject of heaven. He then presented a challenge, stating, “It seems to me Christian communicators have a clear responsibility to project a new understanding of heaven into modem consciousness. If we fail we forfeit one of our faith’s greatest features.”
A new understanding of heaven? Quite an order. But if the gauntlet was being thrown down, I couldn’t resist picking it up. Having a solid excuse to explore the afterlife would be the chance of a lifetime. I decided to launch a search for heaven.
I got myself invited to interview a Sunday school class of five-year-olds on the subject of heaven. The answers they gave revealed some colorful ideas of what the preschool set thinks of the eternal city.
“Not even the space shuttle can get there,” observed one boy.
“Probably you’ll just fly around. Probably it will be boring,” a girl theorized.
The children seemed to have a pretty good grasp on what you had to do to get to heaven, although they erupted into a debate on whether it was God or Jesus who died for our sins.
On my way out, Charles Howell, a friend of mine who teaches the class with his wife, Jean, startled me with this observation: “A lot of people never grow out of those five-year-old concepts of heaven.” I think he is right.
It seems most of us have trouble advancing from our early-childhood view of heaven as an everlasting rest home—antiseptic, gleaming and dull. When I envision heaven, it’s hard to see anything but a white walled, Mediterranean city. Most people I know see it more as a quiet, country resort—certainly a nice place to visit, but would you really want to live there?
Few Christians today are taking time to think much about heaven. Many don’t seem particularly interested in the subject and allow outdated imagery left over from childhood to substitute for serious thought. This is unfortunate.
Believers of other eras generally showed more interest in the place they expected to spend eternity. But we residents of the 20th century tend to focus exclusively on short-term, material matters.
Why is heaven given so little attention, even by evangelical Christians? To find the answer to this puzzle I recently talked with a number of creative Christian thinkers as well as sounding out some other sources. My goal was to update my fuzzy ideas on heaven—not so much what it looks like, but what kind of place it is.
Early in my study I discovered that some people don’t dwell on heaven simply because they don’t believe in it. Fishing for lay opinion about heaven, I placed a little ad in a local shoppers’ weekly. In response, Geoffrey Young dashed off a post card with this message: “I think no ‘heaven’ could be more blissful than this earth, and no ‘hell’ could be more tortuous than this earth. Why bother your mind thinking about some ‘heaven’ that may exist somewhere else? Heaven and hell are within you.”
Lutheran theologian Richard John Neuhaus believes such sentiments are spreading. He told me, “One of the great public, even political, events of the modern world is the widespread loss of belief in immortality and eternal life.” He observed that nonbelievers are forced to place all their stakes on the “transient moment” we call earthly life. “They overload the circuits of what earthly life can sustain in terms of hopes and expectations,” he commented. “Therefore they are frequently embittered and fearful people.”
That analysis is certainly true for much of Europe and Asia, where atheism is spreading, yet surely America is a different case.
George Gallup tells us that 71 percent of Americans believe in heaven. What’s more impressive, 66 percent think their chances of going there are “good” or “excellent” (Religion in America, 1984). These amazingly high figures far exceed the number of serious Christians in America.
Paradoxically, there is a dearth of good contemporary literature on heaven—a couple of books and a smattering of periodical articles nearly exhaust the supply. If Americans largely believe themselves to be heaven-bound, why the slack interest?
Presbyterian church historian Richard Lovelace gave me one possible reason for the apathy concerning heaven—increased life span. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Lovelace noted, “you had to have virtually 15 children in order to have three or four survive. You were constantly up against the raw fact of death.” Heaven could hardly be overlooked in those days; most of your family probably lived there.
But we shouldn’t ignore heaven simply because we live in the 20th century. Death might be less noticeable these days, but it is just as certain. Since life ends, it stands to reason we should give some thought to the afterlife. As D. L. Moody once observed, “If I were going to dwell in any place in this country, if I were going to make it my home, I would want to inquire about the place, about its climate, about the neighbors I would have, about everything, in fact, that I could learn concerning it” (Heaven, F. H. Revell, 1880).
According to some of the thinkers I consulted, such heavenly curiosity may be inborn, even if it’s neglected. Peter J. Kreeft, philosophy professor at Boston College, writes, “There is great beauty and value and goodness and meaning in life under the sun—why do we want more? Why do we keep asking: Is that all there is? We are like children opening a thousand beautiful Christmas presents and asking after each one: ‘Is that all there is?’” (Heaven: The Heart’s Deepest Longing. Harper and Row, 1980). Kreeft says the discontent is nothing but our suppressed longing for heaven.
C. S. Lewis put his finger on it when he wrote, “There are times when I think we do not desire heaven, but more often I find myself wondering whether, in our heart of hearts, we have ever desired anything else.”
One pleasant discovery I made was that meditation about heaven can be more than mere speculation. With numerous passages on the subject, Scripture lays a solid foundation for further thinking. Jesus cleared away a lot of the fog surrounding heaven. He confirmed that each person would not only live again after the grave, but each person would be judged. To the righteous, Jesus said the King (Himself) would say, “‘You have my Father’s blessing; come, enter and possess the kingdom that has been ready for you since the world was made’” (Matt 25:34, NEB). The wicked, of course, would be thrown into hell. Jesus further described heaven to His disciples shortly before His death: “In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). Jesus informed the repentant thief dying beside Him on the cross that he would be in paradise—heaven, presumably—that very day.
With this biblical evidence as a base, I asked several thinkers to elaborate about heaven. Some of them took a mystical approach. Richard John Neuhaus told me that to learn about heaven you must concentrate on God. “The question,” he said, “is what does one think of God, and why is it that one loves God? The answer, I think, is the love built within us that responds to His creating and redeeming love. Heaven is that union, that mystical communion, in its fulfilled form.”
On the other hand, Neuhaus does not put down what some call the “Islamic” view of heaven which stresses pleasure. “Heaven is everything splendid, glorious, intriguing, celebrative, that in our human condition we can possibly imagine,” he said. “Having said that, we have to say that it is more. It is that pleasure or that delight or that joy greater than which cannot be thought.” All of that will be heaven, says Neuhaus, because heaven is union with God.
Robert Schuller took a similar, but more graphic, approach. “When I see heaven, I don’t see a material place,” he stated. “I’ve said [the] Andromeda [galaxy] might be it, because it’s 2.5 million light years from here. So if we develop a rocket that could travel at the speed of 186,000 miles per second, it would take us 2.5 million years just to get to the outside edge of it. So it might be a place, but I don’t see it as a place.
“I see it as a state of being,” he continued. “I would equate the quality of life there to the psychological and emotional state of what Adam had before the Fall. If I understand the Bible in Genesis and classical theology, when God created the earth and put Adam and Eve there, He intended it to be heaven on earth. So what was the consciousness of Adam before the Fall? I think it was one of glory—harmless glory, reflecting the glory of God like the moon reflects the sun.”
As good as all that sounds, it doesn’t answer one common misgiving about heaven. That is, will heaven be boring? It’s possible on earth to become quite bored during a one-week vacation. And forever, after all, is a very long time. As great as being with God is, does anything happen in heaven?
Peter Kreeft describes the problem well. “The popular head picture of heaven is one of changeless perfection, sometimes in imagery of harps, halos and clouds, sometimes in imageless concepts of abstract spirituality. That may be heaven for angels, but it’s more like hell for humans.”
Quite right. Methodist missionary E. Stanley Jones often told audiences he wasn’t planning to sit around in heaven. He claimed that when he died he would give himself 24 hours to rest and 24 more to visit friends, then it was off to work. He planned to approach Christ and say, “Haven’t you a world that is fallen, that needs an evangelist?” (A Song of Ascents, Abingdon, 1968).
Fortunately for our eternal happiness, nearly every thinker I talked with strongly challenged the idea of a boring heaven.
“Unless we are radically changed,” Richard Lovelace commented, “we’re going to be creative beings who have a drive to exercise dominion. I think of the eternal state as our ability to take all these drives built into us by God and exercise them without the distortion of sin.” What this could mean is that heaven might be full of glorified farmers taking centuries to develop better crop varieties or redeemed musicians creating new and greater forms of music. The possibilities are endless.
Lovelace believes the dull heaven concept was imported into Christian thought by Augustine, who picked up on Plato’s view of an ethereal, non-material afterlife. This idea has no basis in Scripture, Lovelace said.
Indeed, the apostle Paul taught that, though the bodies of the redeemed in heaven would be unlike bodies on earth, the new models would be a great improvement rather than ghostlike. “The first man [Adam] was made ‘of the dust of the earth’: the second man [Jesus] is from heaven,” Paul wrote. “As we have worn the likeness of the man made of dust, so we shall wear the likeness of the heavenly man” (1 Cor. 15:47, 49).
When I interviewed Sheldon Vanauken, author of A Severe Mercy, he suggested that earthly senses such as smell and taste will be carried over into eternity. For example, he believes we will eat (or something like it) in heaven.
Thinking about what we will do in heaven may draw a blank, writes Kreeft, because we may not be considering all the possibilities. He points out that on earth there are two basic postures—working and resting. When we’re not doing one, we’re doing the other. Both are necessary, but they get tiring when overdone. However, Kreeft notes a third option—play. Not ordinary play, but joyful, creative play. This sort of intense play pushes aside thoughts of weariness or boredom. According to Kreeft that’s how heaven will be. We won’t be conscious of the passage of centuries, for we will be caught up in heavenly joy. As C. S. Lewis once observed, “Joy is the serious business of heaven” (Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, Harcourt, Brace and World, 1963).
Does a clear view of heaven have any relevance here on earth? On two or three counts, the answer seems to be yes.
Although we normally think of heaven only in terms of our future home, Jesus spent much time talking about a kingdom of heaven in which all His disciples were citizens. Picking up on this idea, Sheldon Vanauken states, “It begins now. It’s been said that both heaven and hell are retroactive. That is, when we die and see our lives clearly for the first time, we will see, if we are in heaven, that everything has been heaven leading up to there even though we’ve gone through much pain and sorrow.”
Schuller attributes much of his optimistic outlook on life to his belief in heaven. “On a subconscious level I know I can’t lose. We talk about winning or losing, succeeding or failing; but we’re only talking about certain rounds in the battle, right? The fifteenth and final round is the eternal destiny of my soul. I know I’ve got that one licked.”
Furthermore, Neuhaus believes faith in heaven is necessary to give proper perspective to our worldly work. “I think that other-worldliness is an absolute requisite for genuine engagement in the tasks of this world. That is, if one really believes that this brief span we call life on earth is all that there is, then that person is set up either for self-delusion or for despair.
“But if one has a sense that this brief span is not everything, that the enterprise we are involved in is part of a much more encompassing and mysterious project of God Himself, then one can work at his or her earthly task with a high degree of confidence. Of course we’re not going to build the kingdom of God on earth.
“But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that during this time of pilgrimage and testing, one is found faithful.”
James Robb is executive editor of Good News and editor-in-chief of Bristol Books.
by Steve | Nov 22, 1988 | Archive - 1988
Archive: Black UM Leaders Urge UM Growth
Teams from 50 inner-city, metropolitan, small-town and rural churches, each representing an annual conference, met in August in Atlanta for the first national United Methodist Black Church Growth Consultation. The consultation was organized by Black Methodists for Church Renewal, an unofficial caucus of black lay and clergy leaders. Workshops, plenary sessions and worship services centered on the conference theme, “Black Pentecost: Saving Souls and Making Disciples.”
The consultation was inspired by the 1984 General Conference goal to double the denomination’s membership by 1992. Black churches, long touted as bastions of growth and vitality, discovered that sagging membership and lethargic programs were a problem for them as well as white churches. Church leaders set out to identify problem areas and help churches reverse the decline.
“We find ourselves losing black membership at the highest rate of any denomination—more than 140,000 since the dissolution of the [racially segregated] Central Jurisdiction in 1968,” said Bishop Forrest C. Stith, Syracuse, N.Y., in his keynote message. He said the historic role of the black church as an anchor that sustained its community has diminished.
Bishop Roy Nichols, Oakland, Calif., said growing numbers of non-church members are complaining that most churches seem more concerned about organizational matters and money than about social and spiritual needs.
“Jesus offered new approaches and various facets of the same messianic message to different people depending on who they were—whether a prostitute, a rabbi or a thief—and what their particular needs were,” said the bishop. The retired episcopal leader has researched trends and characteristics of growing churches for a book to be published next spring. “Churches now exist in a highly competitive environment,” he explained. “We have to be more aggressive, more visionary and more sensitive to people’s real needs if we’re going to invite them to come share the gospel.”
He urged the black leaders to explore new ministries for latch-key children and single-parent families, more prayer and nurturing groups, more training of lay people and more educational programs on topics such as personal financial management, parenting and marriage enrichment.
Workshop leaders emphasized the importance of spirited and innovative worship and music, encouraging participants to use and promote Songs of Zion, a hymnal in the black tradition, and the new United Methodist Hymnal, due out in. November 1989, which will contain music and worship resources from black and other ethnic traditions as well as standard church fare.
Participants like Preston Weaver, lay leader of St. Paul UMC, Dallas, called the consultation “a godsend.” His 115-yearold, 600-member church is a mostly middle-class congregation, but he hopes the church will expand its outreach program with tutorial and self-improvement classes for the large number of high school drop-outs in a nearby, low-income housing project.
Consultation planners will report their evaluations and other research data to the fall meeting of the Council of Bishops, according to Deborah Bass, consultant and coordinator for the event. They also will track the progress of many of the participating churches for two years and consult with the bishops and annual conferences who sent representatives.
Support for the consultation came from the United Methodist Council of Bishops, the General Council on Finance and Administration and the General Boards of Discipleship and Global Ministries.
United Methodist News Service
by Steve | Nov 21, 1988 | Archive - 1988
Archive: Storey Clarifies South African Crisis
South Africa remains at the forefront of world controversies. Most United Methodists know they oppose apartheid, the racist system which defrauds black South Africans of their rights. However, many find the details of the crisis in South Africa confusing. Dr. Peter Storey is the former president of the South African Council of Churches and former head of the Methodist Church of South Africa. On a recent visit to the United States, Dr. Storey stopped in at the Good News headquarters and gave the following interview about his troubled country.
Good News: What is the racial makeup of the Methodist Church in South Africa?
Storey: Eighty percent black, twenty percent white.
Good News: How large is the church?
Storey: Membership is approaching one million and constituency two million.
Good News: How many Christians are there in the entire South African population?
Storey: The population is supposed to be about 70 percent Christian.
Good News: What is the Church’s condition in South Africa?
Storey: God will ask one question [to those of us in South Africa]: “What did you do about apartheid?” I’m afraid that means there’s a large body of sincere Christians who are not witnessing to Christ. They are avoiding the Christ who speaks with anger and compassion about the oppression of black people in South Africa.
If you were to ask what the Church’s priorities are in South Africa, vis a vis apartheid, I would say the first priority is to go on making Christians. Evangelism is not irrelevant in a time of political tension and violence. Political repentance in South Africa would mean a surrender of privilege by the 10 percent in power, so there’s a sense in which the [surrender] dynamic of Christian conversion has deep implications for the situation in South Africa.
Evangelism is not irrelevant, provided it is prophetic. Pietistic, personal-salvation evangelism, if not linked with the challenge to be involved in social transformation and justice, is, in fact, a dangerous thing for South Africa.
The second priority for the Church should be to tell the truth, to reveal what is happening. This is crucial because of the amount of control the media now has in South Africa. We only know what is happening because of reports we get from local parishes saying, for instance, “We were having a service, and the police came and smashed the church up and arrested 200 people.”
The next priority is to bind up the broken. There is a ministry in caring for and repairing people, which can sometimes be done by counseling ex-detainees who have been through a severe trauma. Some of these ex-detainees are 15- or 16-year-olds who have been in solitary confinement for 90 days.
Good News: What impediment has the Dutch Reformed Church’s support of apartheid placed upon the spread of Christianity?
Storey: The Dutch Reformed Church has recently moved from support of apartheid to a form of qualified neutrality. But you cannot be neutral and be a Christian in South Africa. If you are neutral, you are for apartheid, and you are being used by the powers of evil.
But there is a difference between neutrality and independence. I believe the Church must retain sufficient independence from political movements so that it is able to prophesy into those situations and not be so identified that it no longer has prophetic integrity
Good News: It seems there is a growing feeling that it’s only a matter of time before apartheid is dismantled.
Storey: The South African government is now committed to a multi-racial South Africa. It is willing to make any concession on the level of race and color as long as no one seeks to take away its power. It is more a power issue than a color issue now. As long as the white Afrikaner retains the power, he does not mind making some concessions on the issue of race. Whites can marry blacks, whites can sit with blacks in buses and eat with them in restaurants—these issues are irrelevant. The essence of apartheid is who’s running the show. It is a power game. In the maneuvering to deal with that power center, there is no question that the group with the largest support in the South African black community is the African National Congress (A.N.C.).
Good News: Is that even larger than Mangosuthu Butheleizi’s [Zulu tribal chief and chairman of the South African Black Alliance] support?
Storey: Yes. Butheleizi is limited because he has made the fatal error—short-term advantage, long-term error—of establishing his political base in an ethnic tribe, which immediately raises the suspicions of every other tribal group in the country. Many Zulus would support the A.N.C. rather than Butheleizi’s movement.
Good News: Regarding disinvestment by American corporations, I read that South Africa has the largest black middle class in Africa. It seems some of those corporations might have had an impact in raising the conditions for some blacks. Is that a misunderstanding?
Storey: No, but I think our people realize those changes happened soon after the first threats that the corporations might be losing their profits and have to give up. The commitment to change was sudden and happened just recently, but that does not mean it is not important.
Good News: What are practical ways Christians in America can be of help to South Africa?
Storey: The first practical way is to pray, and that is not impractical. Prayer is a political act. You should pray for South Africa not just because it is the last outpost of racism; pray for South Africa because it represents what lies under the surface of your own society.
The second thing you can do is maintain a sense of moral outrage. People say there are other situations in the world which are bad. I say, “I know that, but I am grateful that the moral outrage is directed against the evil in my own situation.” In whatever way possible, stay mindful that apartheid is condemned in the counsels of God.
Third, I would like to see every Methodist congregation (because I am a Methodist) bring one young person out of South Africa and expose him or her to a free society, democratic values and the opportunity to get away from the pathology of a hate-sick society.
Good News: If an American church wanted to know how to do this, would the Methodist Church of South Africa be able to help?
Storey: I’m not the boss of our church right now, but I’d say yes, we would.
Good News: One of the problems Americans have with processing reports of strife in the world is figuring out who has done what to whom, especially when information does not come clearly, and there are both right- and left-wing viewpoints.
Storey: I understand that. In South Africa today right-wing violence is increasing. On the other hand, there are bombs going off in white shopping centers which are either from the A.N.C. or some other liberation group, so we are confused about where the A.N.C. stands on the issue. Publicly they have condemned it.
Good News: What have they said about necklacing [putting a gasoline-soaked tire around someone’s neck and burning them to death]?
Storey: They condemn necklacing.
Good News: That’s interesting; I have never heard anyone say that.
Storey: There is an awful lot of literature that says the opposite. Necklacing was a horrible phenomenon which arose as a disciplinary method of execution; young people organized themselves in townships to resist the troops, and this was their punishment to collaborators. The A.N.C. did not initiate or control that uprising, but when they began to encourage it, it became an issue. In the end the A.N.C.’s answer was, “No, stop that.” And it stopped; it is not happening anymore.
Good News: One of the things we hear is that a significant chunk of the A.N.C.’s leadership has Marxist connections. Traditionally that has not been a good omen for representative government. How valid is that concern?
Storey: I think it is a valid concern; it is never easy to be sure who is calling the shots. My knowledge of some of the individuals in leadership indicates that they would say, “We will make up our minds about where we will go, and we certainly won’t have our program programmed for us from Moscow or anywhere else.” They mean it.
I also think it is odd to hear the West express such anxieties and then refuse to show interest in or support for these movements. If your house is on fire you borrow a hose from anyone; you don ‘t ask him what his politics are first. It was, in fact, the socialist countries—the communist countries—that offered support [to South Africa]. I think that is forever to the detriment of the West. If western democracies had given more attention and support earlier to movements like the A.N.C., they may never have abandoned their long-held, non-violent stance.
