Information vs. Transformation in Church Class Curricula

Though I don’t have the research to prove it, I suspect the American church has an increasing tendency toward biblical illiteracy. It seems to me that we no longer have the luxury to say in our sermons and conversations, “You know the story….” Indeed, if this is the case then we have something of a fresh slate to work from (in some cases). It is likely worthwhile to consider the possibility that relating texts like they’ve never been heard before has a power all its own. Such is something to consider both in the sermon and in the classroom. If we are less familiar with the Bible as a whole than we used to be (which I believe to be true), then a certain portion of the class ought to be informational. This may also be generally true: we come to class to learn something new. However, our church is at something of a disadvantage because we do not have a long-term plan for engendering biblical literacy or mandatory attendance like a school. However, the idea for a long-term plan is another discussion entirely. The point for the moment is that new information is given in the class format. A counter question arises: “To whom is the material new?” Let’s say the class is over the book of Job. If there is no previous exposure to the text, then the course could be spent gaining familiarity with Job’s story and the considerable dialogue. This could be a chance to explore basic issues like the time period of the events, the time of the writing, and other historical issues which affect the reading of the text. But which part do you begin with, the text or the background? If, however, there is a basic familiarity with Job’s story but not the dialogue, the story can be done briefly and focus could be given to the speeches, their ebbs and flows, their purpose, and the implications. If whole familiarity is already achieved, the interpretation and application of the text becomes a more probable reality. Becoming acquainted with Job, his friends, and God is not part of the process any more since this has already happened. That information could belong more to the realm of review.

But this is all dealing with the passing on of information. On the other end we have the issue of transformation. One of the most basic goals of Bible study is the building of faith. We are not saved by information, but by the grace which produces transformation. We can have all the information in the world but never act on it. If information does not influence belief and result in action, has the presentation of information actually accomplished anything? Theology is not solely information gathered, compiled, and published by scholars, but transformation and evolution. The purpose of the text is communication, to be sure, but the communication must have a result or we are left with naught but words on a page or scroll. A dear friend of mine once said, “The Bible is more than words on a page; it is also what happens between the page and your nose.” By this he meant that the Bible must be interpreted; it is also true that faith must produce fruit. Discussing Trinitarian theology and yet having an individualistic worship service simply means the discussion did nothing (though this is a drastic exaggeration, to be fair).

So here’s my problem: where is the balance between information and transformation in the creation of a curriculum for “Sunday School”? It appears both are necessary, but how much of each is best? Does this vary from group to group (also church to church, among denominations, even continents and hemispheres)? I think it does, but the question remains: Where is the balance?

Real life example: I am currently working on a curriculum for my congregation over the Minor Prophets (hence, MPs). I have the luxury of assuming a relative unfamiliarity with the text on the part of the church as a whole, along with apparent freedom to create the material as I see fit. However, I’ve gathered a group of people into conversation on the matter (who have been most helpful and will certainly be thanked profusely) to ensure that the curriculum is not just mine, but the church’s. I wouldn’t mind a lecture setting like a college course where information is passed on and the students have to take tests or get homework. But I have been reminded by some of the group that transformation is a key element in biblical study. They may not have said it in as many words as I have lavished upon this post, but they have redirected my intentions (as I has hoped they would) toward a more transformative goal.

If our congregation is studying the MPs, of whom they know little or nothing, how much information can the curriculum give without overwhelming and overruling the potential for transformation? What is the transformative power of the MPs? How does what these 12 prophets have to say matter to the church today, and to what use can they be put?

Again, I believe there must be a balance, but it must be reached carefully. For others in similar situations, I applaud you for the delicate work you have pursued and pray blessings upon your work that it may be used by God for the transformation of his church. As always, leave comments below and get the conversation going!

Truth and Time

A couple days ago, something incredibly normal happened. As we were about to go to bed, my wife asked me whether I had locked the door. I responded in the affirmative (while glancing around most suspiciously), at which point she looked at the door and discovered I had, in fact, not locked the door yet. She promptly called me out on this, and I had a goofy response: "Well, it's about to be true!" What I didn't realize when I said this was that my response would spawn a convoluted path of thoughts and possibilities within my mind. I began to consider whether truth had a temporal dimension.

At first, it was kind of an exercise in language: In which tenses does truth exist? Obviously, truth can exist in the past and present tenses: "I locked the door," or "I am wearing pajamas." But can truth exist in the future tense? "I will finish my homework" can have two outcomes: completion or non-completion. The issue is whether the statement will become true, because it is neither true nor false at the moment of speaking. These were some of the initial thoughts, and they only got more complicated from there. (Feel free to skip a few paragraphs; it might be a while before I get to anything resembling a point.)

Next, I began to wonder how things are true. "This bag has 30 jelly beans left." The statement is true, until a jelly bean is added or removed. Does this mean once an addition or subtraction occurs that the previous statement is rendered false or that the truth has changed? This has become a question of assertions. The circumstances have changed, so the claim must change with it. This is a key element of scientific pursuit. Even if I believe there are actually only 12 jelly beans, that does not change how many jelly beans there are. Likewise, belief in a geocentric solar system or a flat earth does not alter reality. The issue with the jelly beans is an issue of quantitative truth.

But what about qualitative truth? If I claim, "God is ancient," the claim states a quality. In this case, the quality cannot change, because the quality is inherently time-bound and God does not become less ancient as time progresses. If we claim something is new, however, that claim can change. "This is my new book." The newness of the phone will decay over time, eventually leaving me with an old book. Again, this is a temporal quality, but the quality changes. If I claim an object is made of silver, a quality of material, can that quality change? The silver can become tarnished, be crushed and melted, frozen, or worn, but it has not stopped being silver. What about qualities such as "good" and "evil"? A good thing can become bad, and vice versa; so does the claim have to be revised with the circumstances?

As far as I could tell, it was possible for truth to change. But this seemed only to apply to verbal assertions: one could make a claim that, at that moment, was indeed true, but the factors contributing to the truthfulness of the assertion could be altered. So I considered whether there is actually such a thing as absolute truth, truth that does not change with circumstance. If all things can and do change, with change being the only constant, then why not truth? But this thought is bound up in words: the things which are believed to be either true or false are found in words. Whether observed or not, whether stated or not, the earth does not cease being spherical. It may in some point in the future become otherwise (pending some enormous disaster that breaks it apart), but the truth is not found in the words, but in the reality that shapes them. (And this all is by no means all that crossed my mind; it's simply all I could remember pondering.)

If you were skipping around, here's where you should pick back up. One of the key elements of the Christian faith is a future claim. We are told Jesus will come again, that bodies will be resurrected, that heaven and earth shall be remade and God's kingdom rightfully restored to the returning king. But is this truth? By faith we believe it to be true. But can it be called "truth" if it hasn't happened yet? At this point, it's an assertion. An assertion we believe to be true, but an assertion nonetheless. I'm not debating God's faithfulness; quite the contrary, I hope to affirm it. By saying, "God is faithful," I make a claim about the past and, through the past, about the present. While past evidence does not necessarily predict the future with absolute certainty, God does not appear to have given me reason to suppose he has been unfaithful. So, with the past in mind, I look to the future, however uncertain it may be. I continue searching for truth and its complicated dimensions, only to be reminded occasionally how simple the truth can be. Can truth exist in the future? Maybe, but if it does, it has not happened yet. Whatever future truths our world holds, may we encounter them with faith in God's faithfulness. For with uncertain apprehension and trust in that faithfulness may we step boldly into each new moment.

She Talks to Angels

Suffering is a part of life. We may ask why suffering exists, why there is evil, and why such things must occur within nature and humankind. In the realm of natural evil we find destructive weather and disease, and they seem to be part of a neutral, impersonal chaos. But if God permits such events to occur, then they hardly seem neutral.

As a result of such natural evil, a girl was born with cystic fibrosis. As Amanda's parents struggled through her affliction and ultimate death, so too do we struggle with the problems of evil and suffering. At this point, I would invite you to help with the creation of a film to fashion a narrative out of Amanda's story. Ross, the director over at G&H Media, has a Kickstarter campaign running (click here to check it out), and the film desperately needs more funding. If this story is to come to life it must have a better budget than it has currently. Give it a look, check out the promotional video, and offer others the opportunity to learn more about those who suffer, specifically from cystic fibrosis. The campaign closes May 29th (just 18 days away), so help these guys out; help this family tell their story!

More Than You Can Handle

I heard many things about God and the Bible growing up: what God wanted from me, how I was supposed to act, and the necessity of going to church, among other things. And while my understanding of these particular concepts has changed over the years (drastically, in some cases), there are a few cases where what I heard was downright false. I don't think I would go so far as to say I was intentionally lied to, since so many of the people I knew then meant well and surely love God. Even so, there are a few points where claims were made that have no foundation in a biblical text or even within most of Christian history. This is one of those points.

Now, while this image is meant to be humorous (which, I admit, it is), it poses a serious problem. First, this is not in the Bible. The text we usually mean to reference is 1 Corinthians 10.13, which deals with the issue of temptation, not the terrible crap that happens in our lives. Second, if it were in the Bible, I firmly believe that human experience has proved otherwise. God consistently gives people more than they can handle. It seems to me that if God throws stuff at people "because they can handle it," it portrays him in a slightly sadistic light. But the other day, my brother (who had a pretty similar upbringing to my own, as it turns out) made an excellent observation: If we could handle everything, what need would we have for God? This is a valid question.

Believing God will not permit temptation beyond our capacity is most assuredly different from believing God will not give us more than we can handle. For J. M. Hicks (Yet I Will Trust Him, 1999), the question of divine permission is key to understanding God's place in a suffering world. This appears to be true both in terms of what God permits in our temptation and in our trials.

But I've had times where it was more than I could handle. Some pretty terrible things befell me in elementary school: verbal abuse from a teacher, being bullied by students as a result of that teacher, and the school administration turning a blind eye from my suffering. It was more than I could handle. And God let it happen. I wasn't tempted to curse God; in fact, I was too young to know what that was. Even so, it was so much that, at 8 years old, I was considering suicide so I couldn't hate those people any more. I had a friend who died from a heart condition at the age of 16. I've lost several great-grandparents during my life, my living grandpa has had multiple kinds of cancer, and I've finally had to think through the possibility of losing one of my parents.

My own personal sob stories aside (and I'm certain others have much more difficult tales than I), the Bible's reaction to God's actions are more than enough evidence to show how God consistently seems to let people down or put them through unspeakable things. The lament witness throughout the OT (Psalms, Job, Lamentations, sections of the Prophets) and small portions of the NT (references to the previous  shows the authors and nation of Israel to be in a position of finding themselves having been given by God more than they could handle. But even Job, when placed in a situation beyond what many of us will (hopefully) ever understand, could not turn from God.

God gives us more than we can handle. And whether we continue obstinately chanting, "God is good," or we ask, "God, why have you forsaken us?" let us not abandon the conversation with him. At least, not permanently. We may all experience times when we can no longer sing the Lord's song (Ps. 137), but a time will come when the song returns. And what a glorious day it will be when the song returns.

Simple vs. Simplistic

Those in higher education as well as those who have lived longer understand that things are rarely as simple as they seem. Science is complex, as are math, engineering, cartography, psychology, and a great many other disciplines. Theology is no exception. I know firsthand the possibilities of seeing complicated problems with simple statements. But few of us begin with such a complex understanding of things. When children ask, "Why is the sky blue?" it is acceptable to reply with, "God made it that way." But later on, while the original answer may still be true, a deeper answer will become appropriate. "It's the reflection of light against the oceans back into the atmosphere." This is still true, but it is a truth that takes into account the cognitive growth of the questioner.

I have voiced elsewhere how I think this is true in the realm of religion as well. When someone immature in faith asks, "What did Jesus say?" it is acceptable to point to a single passage and read it. Later on, however, we (should) learn to ask, "Why did Jesus say…?" We move deeper from the "what" to the "why," the "how," and other questions. (In truth, this post was borne out of having recently heard the phrase, "Jesus (or God or the Bible) said it, I believe it, and that settles it.")

In a similar fashion, when we do God's work in the world, we may start by asking, "What does God want us to do?" As faith deepens, so do the questions. "Why is this God's goal? Why should this be my goal? How does our understanding of the goal affect how we view God?"

With this in mind, this developing nature of the questions and the faith that drives them, we shouldn't forget the simple places where we began. Paul grew up and stopped being childish (1 Cor 13.11), but this doesn't mean he stopped being childlike. It is with childlike wonder that we continue to ask questions. Jesus values children and says those like children inherit the Reign of God (Mark 10.13-16; parallels in Matt 19.13-15; Luke 18.15-17).

Children are simple. But they are not simplistic. We are baffled by their deep questions for which we have no answers. They constantly ask questions, and as they grow the questions develop as well. As we grow in faith, our questions deepen, but as children do, let us never cease in asking questions. When we do, let's not mistake simplicity for simplification and avoid difficult questions in the process.

Facebook's Recent "Science vs. the Bible" Table

I came across a peculiar image on Facebook recently. I’ll let you read it, then I’ll address the problems I see. But here's the assumption: I'm not trying to make claims about science and the Bible, but more about what the texts used say. I am less concerned with how the Bible and science do or don't match up and more troubled by what the chart claims and alters in the biblical texts. So, for your consideration, here's the fun little table, followed by my observations.

1. Isaiah 40.22: The phrase is “the circle of the earth” (NRSV, NIV, ESV). This does not mean a sphere. If there is any sort of sphere to the earth, it is in the conception of a dome above from Genesis 1 and Sheol beneath. If the earth is spherical, why did the ancients believe in supporting pillars underneath or above it (cf. the point under Job 26.7)?
2. Jeremiah 33.22: Innumerable stars, yes. Unmeasurable sand, no. There is a finite mass to the earth, and it is theoretically possible to measure the sand on the earth. While it is impractical to do so (gathering up all the sand in the world? Really?), it is by no means impossible. Do not ignore another “scientific” statement in the text for the sake of your argument.
3. Job 28.25: The text says the weight of the wind, not of air. Either this is a metaphor for force (NIV) or something else, but no one would argue that wind is weighted. Air has weight since it has mass within a gravitational field. But wind is just a shift in temperature and pressure between two locations, a moving of air.
4. 1 Corinthians 15.41: This one, at least, is true. But it appears to be less a statement of the nature of stars than a glorification of the power of God.
5. Job 38.19-20: This may imply movement of light, but it also suggests light has a home. What’s scientific about that?
6. Job 26.7: This is similar to the Jeremiah 33.22 situation, where one situation is used for the sake of the table’s argument but the other is flatly ignored. The stretching of the north is strange language, but is not something we take literally. The rest of Job 26 has some interesting takes on reality. For instance, in v. 11, since when does heaven (i.e., the sky) sit on pillars?
7. Ecclesiastes 1.6: Okay, first, I assume the writer of this table meant either “cycles” or “curves” and not “cyclones” (unless they take “cyclones” to mean a system of rotating winds rather than a type of storm system). Second, while the text may claim the wind moves on a circuit, does it do so on a scientific or rhetorical basis? This may also be informed by the constant repetition of “chasing after wind,” a situation that ultimately proves fruitless, as well as the other comparisons immediately before and after (coming and going of generations, the sun, streams and seas).
8. 2 Samuel 22.16; Jonah 2.6: The text of 2 Sam 22.16 mentions “channel, stream, brooks,” with the most likely translation being “channel” (though the NIV renders it as “valley”). If this is meant to be understood as ruts in the deep of the ocean, then why not use the word for valley? The question of whether Jonah 2.6 understood the “roots of the mountains” to be underwater remains, but I wonder whether it is more the language of completeness (that God is inescapable whether under the sea or near the mountain). Either is possible, I suppose.
9. Leviticus 17.11: Not much to be said here, except that life can exist without blood. The Bible does not appear to understand plants as living, nor does it have a concept of bacteria or other organisms invisible to the naked eye. This passage is there for the sake of the purity laws, the reason Israelites could not consume blood but were allowed to sacrifice it.
10. Hebrews 11.3: The claim that God made the seen from the unseen could come from three angles (at least off the top of my head). First, in a religious arena, this could be a statement of the creation as being ex nihilo, out of nothing. God made all things which can be seen out of nothing, which cannot be seen. Second, also religious, the creation narrative could be understood as God’s fashioning of the world before the existence of light, because without light all things are invisible. Third, in the secular realm, the Greeks postulated the idea of atoms before any Christian or Jew did, and such a notion was not completely foreign to India as well. These were the case at least 400 years before Christianity. It is possible that the author of Hebrews adopted this philosophical understanding of the universe for the sake of his argument (which is not unheard of in Christian circles; check out Justin Martyr, for example, who absorbed secular philosophy and reformed it for the cause of Christianity in his day).
11. Job 38.16: The claim that the seas have springs is intriguing and, now, understood to be factual. However, a cursory glance at the rest of Job 38 reveals that it is not exactly a scientific book (8: shutting in the sea with doors; 17: death has gates?; 22: snow is gathered in heavenly storehouses, apparently; 35: lightning talks).

One final issue to be discussed: I’m glad science changes. If it didn’t, I’d be suspicious. And while there have been changes between columns 2 and 3, aren't we glad for those changes (assuming they're true)? We now understand the universe to be much more vast and magnificent than the authors of the Bible could have possibly imagined! But for those who claim the Bible never changes or never did change, there is a wealth of information that disagrees with such an assertion.

In terms of claims made by the Bible about the nature of reality, some are hard to swallow while others are simply incorrect. Is there a liquid or solid layer between the earth and the water beyond? Nope. Is the moon a source of light? No, it is a reflector of the sun’s rays. Does the sun move while the earth remains still? It is the sun which remains and the earth which follows a path around the sun. So on the off-chance that the Bible makes a statement which lines up with current scientific claims, one must remember the numerous points of disagreement. The church no longer holds to a flat earth as it once did, nor the moon as a light, nor the earth as the center of the universe, its galaxy, let alone its own solar system. But let's not change the text for the sake of a point to be made in the ongoing and frustrating battle between religion and science. These are points for conversation, areas of discussion. So let's have a conversation, shall we?

Progressive Revelation and Homosexual Marriage

In the past few weeks (and let's be honest, years) I've heard various differing positions on homosexuals, their relationships with each other, and positions on their marital rights. Doug Hankins offered his take on what he understands to be the three primary reactions on this particular topic, and I definitely think he's on to something. To be in calm and rational discussion is certainly better with controversial issues than to pursue an aggressive attitude which can shut any communication down among differing opinions.

However, there is one reaction I have yet to read anywhere, which is in some ways more concerned with the progress of theology than what the Bible claims in terms of sexual relationships. There is a concept called "progressive revelation" which roughly claims that later books of the Bible contain a fuller revelation from God. While I have a few issues with this (it can most certainly be misused), I think a nuanced version of progressive revelation can be helpful for the discussion.

Does the view of God change throughout the Bible? Most certainly. With each new generation, the authors of the day brought pen to paper so that they could more fully understand God's character. God in Genesis (or perhaps that book's perception of God) is not quite the same as God in Isaiah, nor is Jesus identical from gospel to gospel. If Hebrews was written later rather than earlier, does a progressive revelatory view dictate that Jesus is indeed of the order of Melchizedek? Most likely, despite the lack of any other evidence for understanding Jesus in such a light. Earlier books have no conception of a physical resurrection or of much of an afterlife at all, or of a Son of God, or many other things which are now taken for granted. Does this mean that the earliest followers of Yahweh did not go to some form of heaven? There are a great many questions to consider.

My question for this discussion is this: If theology in the Bible can evolve over time, why do we tend to assume that it stopped progressing after the Bible's "official" canonization? If we're honest and know just a little of the past, we can admit that the understanding of God has changed continually throughout Jewish-Christian history. The additional understanding of God as Trinity, christological readings of OT texts, and any number of scientific discoveries that we hold as normative which do not agree with biblical evidence (heliocentrism vs. geocentrism; the moon as a source of light vs. as a reflector of light; etc.) are a history of our changing understanding of God.

So if our understanding of God can and has changed throughout the span of history, is it still open to change? Some things haven't changed, because people have almost always held them to be true. The name of God in Exodus 34.5-7 has provided a lens through which other later texts can be understood (which in some ways reverses the position of progressive revelation), but has he ever ceased being the one who keeps "steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and sin"? I would hope not. But as our understanding of God continues to grow, to evolve, we must do the same. It was not too long ago that racial segregation and slavery were met with scriptural support, but such an understanding of scripture was done away with for good reason. It seems a great portion of the world has condemned slavery because it was not justifiable. If we feel the same kind of oppression in whatever days lie ahead, will we allow our understanding of God to grow, or will we attempt to ensure he remains contained and safe? If we seek first the kingdom, will we use it to oppress or to liberate? If NT texts made no mention of homosexuality, would we continue to use the OT texts for our convenience, or would we share in Peter's vision where a voice says, "What God has made clean, you must not call unclean"?