Faith, Hope, and Theology

Sometimes we make theology the discipline of thought or study. The greatest theologians, however, have always been those facing the real issues of their days. St. Augustine faced a crumbling way of life, church heresy, and a collection of pastors asking, "How do we live as Christians in this time?" John Calvin lived in the aftermath of Luther's Reformation and the wars that plagued Christians because of disagreement in doctrine. Karl Barth pastored and taught during WWI and II asking how a Christian lives and acts in Germany in his time.

Great theology, you see, is done in the nitty-gritty of life, where God is involved for radical and life-giving change. Those who have faith, who have love, and who have hope are in the best vantage point to do theology because faith, hope, and love are the attitudes that truly show us God; and when can you hope, but when hope seems lost? When do you best love but when loving is difficult? And when do you have faith but when there seems to be no road? It is in these times that God proves himself strong.

So, with that in mind, I close with this quote:

"Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future; faith is having the courage to dance to it today." ~Peter Kuzmic

How does love fit in with hope and faith in this music analogy?

new kid in the story

Well, we'll see how this goes, but I wonder if people would mind sharing some stories that tell the personality of Calvary Community Church. I am trying to jump into the story of the gospel exemplified in our church, and would be greatly helped by hearing some of the stories that are the exemplification of the gospel in this church. How have we condemned sin? Forgiven of sin? Embraced sinners? I guess I could also ask, "Who is this church?"

The brutal necessity of honesty

In his book Till We Have Faces, a fiction book, C.S. Lewis highlights the nature of real relationship. The book's main character, Orual, demands a meeting with the gods regarding the unfair death of her sister, Psyche. The relationship between Orual and Psyche is a strange one: Orual is ugly, while Psyche is beautiful; Orual is militaristic and a strong leader, while Psyche is sensitive and well-liked. Yet Orual, in spite of the jealousy, loves Psyche and so demands a hearing. Through the jealousy, however, Orual puts on a mask and wears it almost constantly. Finally, the gods will hear her complaint about Psyche's death. Yet in this hearing Orual doesn't receive an "answer" to her sister's death, but the realization that she will never understand the gods "face to face" until she herself takes off the mask.

This got me thinking about the masks we wear--and the vast majority of us do wear them. Sometimes they are necessary. Sometimes they are a hindrance. They always hide who we really are, though. A week ago I heard John Ortberg say that to experience God we must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from our lives. I think it's also true to say that to experience God, we
must ruthlessly take off our masks. C.S. Lewis once said that next to the sacraments of baptism and communion that the face of another human is the closest we come to God. How important to have people with whom we must never wear masks! How can we see God face to face, until our face is no longer hidden from other people?

Sinners, saints, and the struggle

Sitting in Wild At Heart (WAH) group yesterday, I was reminded of a quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. (Actually, I was also reminded of it during Class 201 on Saturday. But WAH brought it all together. Great group, great leader.) The following is a paraphrase, but it's close:

"We must remember that we are first a community of sinners before we are a community of saints." This is true.

What triggered the quote was something one of the guy's said in WAH. What he said was quite profound. He said, "The courage is not implying that we live perfectly; the courage is in admitting we're weak and we struggle."

I agreed wholeheartedly (his point was right on; what I am about to say only springs from it). The only thing I would have changed is to say: It's even worse! We don't just struggle; we sin. We're not just weak; we're sinful. We're not just 'not good enough;' we're sinners.

Now, this is emphatically not the last word--that we are sinners. It's the first word--and likely the intermittent word as well--on the road to becoming the community saints by God's grace. If we only struggle, we can try harder. If we're only weak, we can get better coping mechanisms and become stronger. If we're not good enough, then we can get better--or give up. **But** if we're sinners, then we're the people Christ died for (Rom. 5:8); we're the people he gives his Spirit to (Acts 2:1-4); we're the people he's called and justified (Rom. 8:30).

This is why the gospel is not self-help, but is good news.