Tag: Henry Neufeld

  • Of Process (not Theology) and Results

    by Henry E. Neufeld

     
    FactsOver the last few weeks U. S. Presidential candidate Donald Trump has complained a great deal how the rules of the Republican Party are unfair and he is thereby being denied delegates that are rightfully his. Despite the evidence that the rules may actually be helping him, many voters are convinced that Donald Trump is being cheated. They vote for him. He doesn’t get delegates. The system is somehow rotten.
    At the same time United Methodists prepare to gather for their general conference. The United Methodist Church has a relatively complex polity with delegates selected by churches to annual conferences and then by annual conferences to general conference. Sometimes the people in local churches feel that they are not represented, even though this process started at the local church, where members have many opportunities to participate and influence policy. Our church, they will say, has become quite distant from us, the church members.
    These two situations have at least one thing in common: People who participate in a process believe the process is in some way unfair because the results of the process are not what they desire..[ene_ptp] One solution we might consider is explaining the process to the people. If we try to do that, we’ll likely find that people have very little patience for an explanation of the process. If it gets complex, people begin to think it’s a conspiracy against them. Unless, of course, it is producing the results they want to see
    I recall once trying to explain to a group of people what they would need to do to change the direction of their local United Methodist Church. I’m not expert on the United Methodist Discipline, but I do know the basic outlines. Changing the policy of a church involves changing the people on committees, and much of that occurs over the course of at least three years. One needs to attend Charge Conference to be involved in electing the nominating committee. One needs to attend all the committee meetings. Yet even if one does this, the church will not turn on a dime. It’s more like steering a large ship than a car, and some would say it’s more like trying to steer a train. The tracks get in the way. The folks I was talking to basically gave up. If a year wouldn’t do it, they weren’t willing to make a move.
    The process of changing the process is even harder, because one needs to convince more people over more territory and over more time. To the shock of many, something that seems obvious in your local church may not seem nearly so obvious to someone in a church across the world—or even across the county! So more people have to be convinced of something that is more complex and will have uncertain results.
    Let’s consider another political issue: Filibusters in the United States Senate. Filibusters were, at one time, carried out most often by one senator who started to speak and refused to yield the floor. As long as he could stand there and talk without leaving for any reason, he could hold up everything. These days action is often blocked for anything that cannot muster 60 votes out of the hundred member body.
    This is a process issue. Is it a good idea to require 60 votes minimum to bring legislative actions to a conclusion? And here we have an example of how results tend to overcome process. When Democrats have been in the majority in the Senate, they have commonly opposed filibusters, and the Republicans tend to support them. When the situation is reversed, so are the positions on filibusters.
    Many people are simply impatient with a process, particularly a complex one that they don’t understand, and consider the results only. A good process is one that produces a good result, whatever I may think that is. Trump voters don’t like the Republican delegate rules and Cruz voters do for the simple reason that Senator Cruz’s campaign operation is getting a better result out of the rules.
    For a similar reason many people have little patience with the process of a trial. They decide based one whatever news they may have heard whether a person is guilty or innocent. A person commonly perceived as guilty “got off” if the jury finds them not guilty. They were railroaded if the jury finds them guilty against the assumptions of the crowd.
    But just like all the process for electing delegates to the Republican Convention or the United Methodist General Conference, or the process for considering legislation in the United States Senate, the process for carrying out a trial was created for the purpose of allowing real people to conduct business and give many participants an opportunity to have their say. Even the much-maligned filibuster is a way for a minority to prevent the majority from absolute power. All of those processes are important.
    I don’t mean that all of them are perfect, or even very good. They may even be unfair. They may be excessively complex. But general they have become that way as people adapt the process to the people it needs to serve. This can result in some very odd procedures that may seem completely without reason or merit. A process that has been adapted over and over, such as the combination of rules that result in courtroom procedure, may seem grotesquely complex. And indeed it may well need reform. But we do well both to remember that it grew up in response to needs, and that it would be a good idea to understand it before we tear it down.
    Now I’m not defending the particular processes I’ve discussed. They may all need reform. In fact, for every process I’ve mentioned, I can think of things that, in my opinion, would improve the process considerably. But having a set of rules and a process is critical to making decisions that will stand up over time.
    It is possible to like a process and dislike the result of the process. Or, the reverse, one can like the result, but dislike the process. Similarly, in our individual thinking we have a process of logic. We might not spend a great deal of time thinking about it, but we’re going to come to a conclusion somehow. If we do so with little thought, we may be headed for problems, even if we like our current conclusion.
    I encounter this in discussing biblical interpretation. “Just tell me what it means,” someone will say. I don’t think it’s very important for someone else to know what I think a passage means. What is important is to learn how to think about what it means. But often people have little patience for thinking about how a conclusion is reached.
    I often hear sermons in which the preacher invokes biblical languages. It’s particularly annoying to me when I hear someone make a good point and then try to back it up with a faulty understanding of the source language and even how language works. Some preachers have put me on the spot, realizing I read Greek and Hebrew. They try to get me to give the “Amen” to their comment. I try to dodge! In one church, after I successfully avoided commenting on the pastor’s sermon, he caught me during the Sunday School hour while I was giving a missions presentation and asked me outright. He made a good point, but when he invoked the language—discussed the process—he was in error. He didn’t leave me any option but to say so!
    That could be important. If the process is faulty, we can’t rely on coming to reasonable conclusions if we use the same process. We may need to align our compass, change our course, mend the sails, maybe even replace the rudder.
    You may be impatient about process. You may feel that the complexity is a conspiracy against you. But this is a case in which following your feelings could definitely do you harm.
    Take the time, have the patience, to consider how things have come to be, not just what has come to be.
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  • Toward a Biblical Church

                                        by Henry Neufeld, owner and publisher of Energion Publications

    banner 2The word “biblical” is one of the most misused words in theological discussion, possibly even more abused than the word “church.” As a linguist I must note that calling a word “abused” is itself a mite linguistically abusive, as the meaning of words is determined by the way they’re used. What I mean by “abused” in this case, however, is that these words are used in such a way, or such a variety of ways, that it’s nearly impossible to determine their meaning.

    So when I title this post “Toward a Biblical Church,” I’m intentionally being obscure. What on earth (or in heaven, in the sea, or under the sea), can I be talking about? Depending on where I go in scripture, and how I approach its interpretation, I can find (or produce, as if ex nihilo) very different views of the church.[ene_ptp] Cue expressions of horror.
    If we can’t discover what the church is from scripture, or precisely how we should do church, then what good is any of it? Why read the scriptures if they do not inform us of what to do, particularly on such an important point? Yet we have honest and well-meaning people who differ profoundly on how we should be the church and how we should organize ourselves to be whatever we should be. When Allan Bevere, right here on the Energion Discussion Network, suggests we should perhaps be celebrating 50 days of Easter, Dave Black notes that his church doesn’t really do Lent at all. And they’re co-editors of the same book series at Energion, not to mention friends!
    By now you’re all nodding or shrugging or getting annoyed at yet another post telling you that you can’t really know what the Bible says. What good is it in that case? But that’s not my point. In fact, I think we can get quite a lot from the Bible. It’s just that quite frequently the Bible doesn’t tell us what we want to know.
    No, I’m not referring to the fact that the Bible (or the God of the Bible) will frequently challenge our comfortable assumptions and suggest that we ought to do things we’d really rather not. It does that from time to time. Rather, the Bible often doesn’t answer the questions we want answered.
    In this case what many of us would like would be a divine guide to church structure. How should I structure my church so that it will fit God’s directions? Should we have bishops who appoint pastors or a congregational structure? Who should be in charge (at the human level) in a local church congregation? We take these questions to the Bible, and when it fails to answer them, we find a way to bend it to our will.
    I’ve been writing a series of posts going through Dave Black’s book Seven Marks of a New Testament Church. You may be thinking I’d anathematize such a book based on the preceding paragraphs. No, I publish and personally recommend it. I am nearly done blogging through it, in fact. I’m including quotes from two other books, Thrive: Spiritual Habits of Transforming Congregations by Ruth Fletcher and Transforming Acts: Acts of the Apostles as a 21st Century Gospel by Bruce Epperly. Dave is a Southern Baptist. Ruth is a Disciples of Christ district superintendent. Bruce is a United Church of Christ pastor. All of them are writing about how we should do church. All of them consulted the Bible in the process. In addition we have Dave’s book The Jesus Paradigm, and forthcoming this month The Jesus Manifesto: A Participatory Study Guide to the Sermon on the Mount by David Moffett-Moore. Lots of people are looking at what it means to follow Jesus and to be the church.
    Are there differences? Yes. Are there similarities? Yes, remarkable ones. I find it distressing how few people are likely to read all three, often because they presume theological differences will negate the value of one or the other book.
    There are a number of perspectives on Jesus that we find in the Bible, though all lead to the idea that we should be following Jesus. Following Jesus has many details, as well, but also many similarities. The Bible never gets around to straightening out all of those possible understandings. The way the Bible is structured tends to prevent neatly ordered answers to all our questions.
    And that in itself is something I think is one of the clear messages of scripture. We have many perspectives that are understood differently by many people. We moan and groan because the church isn’t unified enough, because we haven’t figured out the same answers to so many questions.
    Perhaps it’s time we consider the possibility that the Bible is accomplishing exactly what God wants it to. We complain that His Word is coming back void, and not accomplishing the purpose for which God sent it out when really the problem is that it’s not accomplishing our purpose.
    God may be just fine with lots of people doing their best to follow Jesus in their own, limited way, organizing themselves in very human fashion do try to do God-sized things, and learning new lessons about working together with every passing day. Perhaps what we need in order to be more in unity is not greater doctrinal or organizational likeness, but more Christlikeness in the way we respond to our differences.
    God made people in amazing variety. Maybe he wanted his church to be that way too.
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  • In the Embrace of Change

    by Henry Neufeld, Publisher

    Henry picI believe the greatest fear we have of change is the way that changes cascade. One thing leads to another. We experience this in daily life when a simple change to our routine impacts other activities. My decision to go to bed later changes my morning routine, which changes the outline of my day, which impacts my family, friends, and co-workers. Those of us who are very careful about such things can get very annoyed with spontaneous people. How dare they change things in moment and alter so many other lives, even in only small ways.
    This fear extends to ideas. We may not work out all the consequences of changing our belief on one point, but we can feel those other changes looming. If I change my belief about one scripture, how many others will follow? We each have created a structure of beliefs, whether we did so consciously or unconsciously, and we tend to fear challenge.
    Of course, some of us like that feeling, just as some people like to pursue high risk recreational activity. It’s an intellectual version of free climbing. Though we hear frequent stories of a change from a more conservative to a more liberal position, change can move one in any direction, which only gets to make it more frightening—or more exciting and enjoyable!
    My story today is about cascading change. It didn’t look like it when I started, but it turned out that way. I’m a theistic evolutionist. I don’t really like the label—theist is a weak word for my beliefs about God, and evolutionist is merely the acceptance of a scientific theory—but it will have to do. I believe in God. I believe that God is the creator of everything, and the ultimate cause of everything.
    When I say that in Christian circles I am commonly challenged to investigate creationism in one of its various forms, from young age creationism to intelligent design. I am told that the only reason I can possible accept evolutionary theory is that I was brainwashed in college and never had an opportunity to hear the truth.
    But my cascading change was in the opposite direction. Both my BA and my MA degrees were granted by institutions with doctrinal statements that included a firm, young earth creationism, generally without even the 10,000-year wiggle room some young earth creationists use. The earth was created in a literal seven-day week of 24 hour days just like those in the present, so I learned from preschool age through graduate school, with a few questioning exceptions.
    As an elementary school student I memorized Genesis 1-3. I knew the names and ages of the patriarchs of Genesis 5 & 11 from memory. I could give precise dates for the creation, the flood, and of course later biblical events. I even memorized lists of texts from elsewhere in scripture supporting this view of creation, at least in the opinion of those who created the lists.
    Not satisfied with what was required, I began to collect and read materials by creationists, especially those in the Seventh-day Adventist church, such as George McCready Price and Frank Lewis Marsh. Creationism was not just a doctrine that I believed; it was the foundation of my doctrinal system. It was a cornerstone. This creationism was not a general belief in God as creator, but a combination of all the specifics: God created the entire universe in seven literal days of 24 hours each about 6,000 years ago.
    So I wasn’t indoctrinated into evolutionary theory by secularist instructors at a university. [ene_ptp] The next suggestion I hear is that I must have eventually taken a course or read a book in which I learned about evolutionary theory, found that it contradicted the Bible, and then chose evolutionary theory over the Bible. This suggestion (or accusation) is generally followed by the question of how I can reject God’s Word in favor of a scientific theory. That’s not what happened. It would be simpler if it had. One enormous change, over and done with. New worldview neatly put into place. Traumatic, but only for a moment!
    The change started with an assignment in college. The class, if I recall correctly, was titled “Problems in Exegesis.” It was designed for students who had a good deal of biblical studies and was designed to give us practice in looking at a disputed passage, looking at the options, researching the available information, and then proposing and defending a solution. Sort of thesis practice completed in less than five double-spaced pages. Yes, we used manual typewriters. Whiteout was new.
    The problem I chose to write about was the text of the genealogies of Genesis 5 & 11. I mentioned that I had memorized all these patriarchs and their reported ages. In my reading for another class I had discovered that the genealogies differed between the Hebrew Masoretic Text (MT) and the Septuagint (LXX). A trace of the differences can be seen in Luke’s genealogy.
    Which was right? I studied. I created charts. I examined the dating that would result for major world events. I realized that, unless on could do some major reworking, the Great Pyramid had gone through the flood. I calculated population growth rates required if the flood occurred on the date I thought it had and noted that simply having the people available to build such a major project would require some truly astounding growth rates.
    This was going well beyond the assignment. I was just supposed to propose a solution. Which text would I translate were I to translate the Bible?
    The bottom line? I thought I’d still translate the MT, though I could not be absolutely confident that it truly was the original text. I thought it most probable (and still do), but doubt remained.
    It’s likely that some readers are jumping to conclusions, and assuming that I immediately looked at evolution and a 4.5 billion-year-old earth, and became a theistic evolutionist. In reality, I didn’t actually start looking at evolution until I was out of graduate school.
    But there was a big change that took shape in my life at that point, bigger than a change in what I believed about how God created the universe. I came to understand that interpretation involves uncertainty.
    When I read my college papers, most of which I have kept, I am amazed at how arrogant I could be. But at that point I began to grant more and more credence to the idea that people could disagree on significant issues of interpretation. If we could disagree, how could we start to consider people heretics because of such disagreement?
    Now my beliefs about origins did change, and those changes also had their own cascade. At first I thought that it didn’t really matter how God created, but then further study of the fascinating way in which a universe created and empowered by God functions, changes, brings forth within it creatures who have freedom. That change, in turn, led me back to a study of God’s grace and the wonderful power of the incarnation, which I now hold as my central theological belief.
    I believe that my faith in God became deeper as I realized my own fallibility. There were many struggles to come. Losing some of my faith in my own ability increased my faith and my trust in God, the only one whose perspective is not limited.
    But my realization that interpretation involves uncertainty changed the entire way I looked at the Bible and the way I looked at nature. I went into that paper with the firm belief that I could find an answer for every question, an absolute answer, one that no reasonable person could question. I came out of it realizing (or rather with the beginning of the realization) that my finite knowledge was shockingly—finite! Limited. Imperfect. Subject to change.
    That was, I think, the most important change of my life. Many people have helped me learn about many things. They have helped me work my way through problems. But nothing has been more profound than learning that I might not only be wrong, but I might not be able to find a demonstrably right conclusion.
    Appearances to the contrary notwithstanding, I’m not a person who embraces change. I have learned to live with it, because having realized my limitations, I know I have to keep on doing my best to learn. If I can be in error, I probably am, and I want to learn how to be less in error.
    I may not embrace change, but change embraces me.
    I think that embrace is good.
     

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