A Finite God?

Does God know the future? Seems like a pretty simple question. God is omniscient - He knows everything, so of course He knows the future. But there are those that believe that the future is as yet undetermined, and thus unknowable by God or anyone else. The main issue is that whole freewill thing. We obviously determine, in a sense, at least part of future with the decisions we make. And God certainly appears to change His mind at times. He bargained with Abraham regarding the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. He regretted creating mankind and all but wiped them out with a flood. That whole Adam and Eve doesn't seem to have gone all that well.

First of all, let me reassure those of you reading that, yes, I do believe God is all-knowing. And I understand the concept of anthropomorphism, that we often attribute human characteristics to God for the sake of our puny human understanding, and so did the authors of the Bible. And there is certainly plenty of scriptural evidence that God knows the future; i.e. a buttload of prophecies that went down exactly as foretold. But do you think that somehow, God is (and I use this term veeerrrrry loosely, for fear of lightning strikes) limited in His view of the future? I've always believed that God lives concurrently in the past, present, and future, but does that mean that the future is already determined? Then what of freewill? Can God be both omniscient and have limited knowledge of the future? Any thoughts? Hello?

I am not a heretic, so put down those torches.

No, life is not fair

Today marks the 15th anniversary of my brother's death. Sean Douglas Rhinehart was 21 years old when the boxtruck that he was driving rear-ended a tractor-trailer, likely a result of Sean falling asleep at the wheel. He was survive by a wife, Starla, a son, Colton (2), and a son who was to be born just two weeks later. My brother and I were never close. He was five years older than me, and we were quite different. Sean took crazy risks, like jumping off of our roof into our above ground pool with a depth of about four feet. I do have some great memories of him (like when he was 15, chasing a potential home intruder down the street with a screwdriver), but I mostly have regrets, regrets in not taking advantage of the opportunity to have a brother. I miss Sean, but more than anything, I'm sad for all that he missed out on. What would he be like? What kind of father would he be today? Could we have been close after all? How would his kids' lives be different had he not been killed? Would he have provided them with the stability that their lives have sorely lacked? I don't know. Sure, he's "in a better place." But I can't help but wonder about the man he would be, the brother he would be, and how we would all be different. It's true--life is not fair. If it was, the world would never have suffered this loss. But God is faithful, and His grace is sufficient.

"The Wounded Healer"

I've decided recently to take a break from reading new Christian books, and take some time to connect to some of the classics, because basically, Truth hasn't changed. I love Brian McLaren and Donald Miller and Rob Bell and such, but for the most part, they aren't saying anything new. So I'm starting with The Wounded Healer, Henri Nouwen's 100-page answer to the question, "What does it mean to be a minister in contemporary society?" It's a little dry and heady at times (Nouwen was a professor at Yale Divinity School after all), but it's a great view of the future from 1971. Nouwen was a Catholic priest, but his works continue to have broad appeal to Protestants and Catholics alike. I really loved this quote about a pastor's vulnerability being the key to his ability to help others:

"Pastoral conversation is not merely a skillful tool of conversational techniques to manipulate people into the Kingdom of God, but a deep human encounter in which a man is willing to put his own faith and doubt, his own hope and despair, his own light and darkness at the disposal of others who want to find a way through their confusion and touch the solid core of life."

Of course, I believe this applies to all of us in the Church, but that a pastor should be open and vulnerable is a message come should here. Many believe that the pastor is an untouchable, unapproachable person, because, well, some of them are. Some prominent Christian personalities teach that it is their purpose to hear from God for their flock, and they are simply not to be bothered with the tedium of such tasks as washing their own cars or cleaning their own houses. The problem with this is that if you want to lead people, you should be able to relate to them. But enough about that. I'm trying to be more positive these days . . .

We so often make the mistake of underestimating the power of our own vulnerability. I think being able to be open and honest about our struggles as well as our triumphs, our messes as well as our successes (OK, I swear I didn't mean for that to rhyme. That would be lame. And that's no game.) is the one of the keys to effectively living in community. Not to mention it keeps us humble if we bear in mind how thoroughly we screw things up sometime.

Wrestling

I recently decided that, after a little time away, that I do indeed want to pursue being a full-time worship leader, but I'm not sure what that means. I don't have much interest in sending out resumes to random churches, hoping they like me and, just as importantly, I like them. And honestly, I don't feel like I'm ready. I've come through some painful church related experiences in a the last few years, and God has done a tremendous amount of healing in me. There remains only a trace of the bitterness that was once so prevalent. I have forgiven those that I needed to forgive, and God's grace has filled the cracks that covered my heart. But a few issues do remain, issues that could be potential stumbling blocks to my effectiveness as a worship leader.

First, as my blog "Something Corporate" revealed, I still have major questions regarding the function and understanding of worship in the post-modern matrix. Why is worship often limited to music? To what extent is encouraging the congregation appropriate? Perhaps most importantly, how much of what we do is Christ- or Bible-oriented (check out Brian's current blog series on this very topic). And personally, why do these questions present such obstacles to me? Am I too sensitive? Should I proceed with business as usual and adjust accordingly when understanding comes? Or should some modicum of a grasp on these realities take hold before I can truly progress?

My second major issue is that I just don't know what church is anymore. I mean, I read so many books and have a great idea of what I don't like that some churches do, and even some grip on some things I do like. And I love the church I'm at right now. It is an absolute Godsend. But it's been so long since church had any ring of normalcy to it for me. After I left Calvary Temple, I went to my dear friend Brian Richardson's church, and even had opportunities to lead worship there, but I never seemed to find my niche. I was still so burnt out from years of unhealthiness that it never clicked for some reason. Then I went to Bethany and didn't attend church until my second year, leading worship at a veeeerrrrrry small church plant, which was cool, but there was still no kindredship, no unity of vision--again, no click. Now I'm here in Texas and really finally feel like I'm in the right church. But it's going to take a while to get acclimated to church as healthy, functional place of relationship and community, all those things I preach, but fail to represent.

So, although God has graciously granted some clarity in the last few weeks (thanks in no small part to my amazing wife, who encourages me to not only wrestle with these issues, but to take action and initiate some degree of movement), I still think it's going to take some time before I'm ready to take that leap toward full-time ministry. It's frustrating, because I see myself getting older, and part of me wants it to happen NOW, and the other parts of me don't want it to happen at all, mostly out of fear. Why couldn't I be called to sleep full-time? I kick ass at that.

My Enemies Are Men Like Me

Peace by way of war
Is like purity by way of fornication
It's like telling someone murder is wrong
And showing them by way of execution

- from "My Enemies Are Men Like Me" by Derek Webb

On his second solo project, Mockingbird, Derek Webb tackles some tough issues head on. This entire record, along with Jim Wallis' book God's Politics, changed my life dramatically. I seriously used to think that if you are a Christian, you vote Republican and don't ask any questions. It seems, however, the older I get, the more liberal I get (one of my favorite professors at Bethany said that was because I was getting smarter. Maybe so . . .). The intersection of politics and religion is unavoidable for a couple of reasons: first, if you are earnestly serving Christ, then His message will impact the way you see everything, including politics; second, Pat Robertson, et al. You don't have to watch CNN for long until you hear the term "religious right." Heck, John McCain sold his soul to John Hagee for an endorsement (shouldn't that endanger his church's tax exemption?). The religious right is a powerful group, and I'm not sure that's a good thing. Webb and Wallis really made me evaluate my views, particularly on war and the death penalty, and weigh them in light of the message of Christ. So I ask you, should a Christian ever be pro-war? How should a Christian feel about the death penalty? Can a Christian support a candidate who has a pro-choice stance?

A New Law

Don't teach me about politics and government -
Just tell me who to vote for.

Don't teach me about truth and beauty -
Just label my music.

Don't teach me how to live like a free man -
Just give me a new law.

- from "A New Law" by Derek Webb

Funny thing, freedom. We love freedom. Freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom of religion, you name it. We're even told that our nation is such a bastion of freedom that other cultures hate us because of it. But when it comes to freedom as a Christian, things get complicated. We want parameters. We want the line of demarcation between sin and not sin to be clearly defined for us. The problem is that living under grace rather than law messes with our heads. Can a Christian listen to secular music? Can a Christian watch R-rated movies? Or, God forbid, can a Christian vote for a Democrat (gasp!)? The Bible doesn't advise us directly on these (and a million other) subjects, so what's a Christian to do? Do we just avoid the difficult question of life and faith and culture and the intersection of such? Do we do what the hell we want because, we're free, dammit?

"You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You keep meticulous account books, tithing on every nickel and dime you get, but on the meat of God's Law, things like fairness and compassion and commitment—the absolute basics!—you carelessly take it or leave it. Careful bookkeeping is commendable, but the basics are required. Do you have any idea how silly you look, writing a life story that's wrong from start to finish, nitpicking over commas and semicolons?" Matthew 23:23-24 (The Message)

Perhaps even our consideration of these things is the issue behind the issue. In all our religious fervor to be "good", we often miss the point. We strain out a gnat and swallow a camel, Jesus said. Keeping all the rules, most of which are man-made anyway, doesn't amount to anything if you don't have compassion. Tithing is great, but not if you don't love your neighbor. What do you think? Does focusing on the "weightier matters" preclude living according to a man-made moral code? Or does striving for moral excellence still play a role in the life of a Christian in today's culture?









OK, so a I missed a day. Did you not read all that anti-legalism stuff I just wrote?

D-Webb

Tonight I had the fortune of seeing Derek Webb, one of my favorite singer-songwriters, in concert. If you haven't heard Derek's stuff, it's stunning. Start off with his first solo project, "She Must and Shall Go Free", a concept album about the relationship between Christ and the Church. It's full of profundity and hard truths we should all face so boldly. Consequently, my next few blogs will be based on Derek and his brilliant lyrics. Starting tomorrow. Daniel tired.