Privileged, Persecuted, or Participating?

March 2, 2014 / rtrube54 / 4 Comments

As I wrote in yesterday’s blog, I was part of an online symposium on the theme of “The ‘End’ of the University”. Each of the groups (representing faculty and others meeting on eight different campuses across the Midwest) were encouraged to write responses. This is not one of those but a personal reflection on one aspect of Dr. Santa Ono’s presentation. One of the aspects of the changing university landscape he addressed was the increasing diversity represented in the student enrollment as well as faculty and staff of any public university in this country. By 2040 or sooner, Caucasians will be in the minority, and already are in some parts of the country. Universities are incredibly diverse places ethnically, in terms of social class, in terms of gender and sexual orientation, in terms of political persuasions, in terms of countries of origin–and in terms of religious and worldview beliefs. As part of a group of Christians considering our response to these changes, it seems to me that we could (and do) make one of three responses.

The first is to try to hold onto being the privileged majority. Indeed, as I’ve been involved in multi-faith discussions on the campus where I work, I’ve found that others still regard Christians, and particularly Caucasian Christians in those terms. At one time this was most definitely so, particularly before the Civil War, and even in many respects up until the upheavals on campuses in the mid-1960s. Much of the perception of this ‘privilege’ I think comes out of our political scene up through the Bush II years and the close alliance between some segments of the Christian community and the party in power. Vestiges of this sense of privilege may be reflected in our expectation that Christian holidays be recognized on public calendars, that prayers be a part of public events and in the “Christian nation” rhetoric we use. What is most troubling to me is that privilege seems to be utterly antithetical to those who follow the Jesus “who did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant….and became obedient unto death.”

The second is to take the stance of the persecuted minority. This is not to say that persecution is not a real option for Christians. In many parts of the world today Christians are in prison, tortured and killed for their faith. They deserve our prayers and our advocacy. But we should not confuse our present situation in the US with theirs because in so doing we demean their suffering and faithfulness. Certainly, people speak pejoratively of Christian belief and particular groups of Christians. But I’m not certain that this is any worse than some of the speech I hear inside the Christian community about others. In some cases groups have been denied access on campus because of their faith stance. Faced with this, I’ve advocated against such decisions as inimical to the freedoms of all students, not just Christians. But again, I think it is demeaning to call this persecution. Many Christian student movements around the world don’t have “access” and yet have great impact. Furthermore, I think this stance leads us to an attack/defense mentality that turns others into adversaries to be defeated rather than those who differ with us to be engaged who even have the possibility of changing their beliefs.

I would advocate for a third stance, that of participating members in the university community, who seek its welfare and consider themselves co-participants in the pursuit of goodness, truth, and beauty, ideals to which every university aspires. One of the things that this means is that I treat others who are in this same community by virtue of their student, faculty or staff status as equal co-participants in that endeavor. I think this means that we co-labor to make the university good and safe places for everyone present, not just for us. As Christians, we should care deeply that internationals on our campuses are not exploited, that adjuncts receive a just wage for their training and contribution to student learning, that no one should be bullied because of their orientation. We should be among those advocating that the children of all our citizens be represented proportionately in our student bodies, not just the children who enjoyed the advantages of the best schools, and college prep tutoring.

Many of our student and faculty groups actually receive substantial benefit from the university community and we should consider how we are “paying it forward” (in good Woody Hayes terms!). I would hope that we are known among administrators as people who make the university a better place, not as headaches or as isolated groups meeting off in a corner of campus. I would also advocate that we be people who not only forthrightly speak of our own faith and desire that others embrace it but eagerly listen to the dissenting views of others and engage in respectful conversation that promotes understanding and enriches everyone in the dialogue.

Above all, I think this means loving the places where we work. I am neither a graduate of nor an employee of The Ohio State University but people who know me swear I bleed scarlet and grey. It’s not just about sports! I believe when God calls us to a place, he calls us to love the place and its people as mattering deeply to Him. I don’t know how we can possibly give ourselves to the pursuit of goodness, truth and beauty without that love.

[As with all my posts, the views expressed here are my own and reflect neither those expressed in the Symposium nor held by the sponsoring organization or any other entities.]

Color Blind

February 22, 2014February 22, 2014 / rtrube54 / 4 Comments

As a parent, I remember when our son was first tested for color blindness. We were holding our breath, hoping he would be able to see all the colors shown him. Thankfully he did. Physical color blindness is not usually considered a good thing. The inability to distinguish colors means a person with red-green color blindness has to make certain adjustments when driving, for example. And color perception is essential in some jobs, such as mixing paint colors.

Ishihara color test. Those with red-green color blindness cannot see the number 74.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve become aware of another kind of “color blindness”. It is the effort to act as if racial and ethnic distinctions do not exist and do not have an impact on relations between different groups. I have to admit that for a time, I thought this was a good thing. It seemed consistent with Dr. King’s statement that we do not want to ” judge a person by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” This is a great statement of the ideal just society. Unfortunately, this ideal has three problems at least when it comes to my relationships with a person of another race or ethnicity that as a white male I’ve become increasingly aware of. I don’t think these are particular problems of white people alone although I do think we are often the most unaware that we suffer from them.

One is that I am not color blind. I can no more not notice skin color than I cannot notice gender distinctions as they present themselves.

Two is that to try to be ‘color blind’ is to ignore the associated attitudes and experiences I have toward those whose skin color is not my own. I find I most hurt others when I lack self-awareness of these things. As a Christ follower, I believe my false and prejudicial attitudes are connected to my sinfulness–the rebellion against God that leads to estrangement not only from God but from other people. But the hope I have is that as I become aware of these prejudices, I can confess them. The truth is that I am racially prejudiced, and more than I know. Yet I find that the acceptance of Christ gives me courage to face this about myself, and the desire to become more like Christ challenges me to repent of these things and to pray that I can see “color” increasingly with the eyes of Christ.

And this leads to the third problem of being ‘color blind’. To think “mono-chromatically” about others is to miss the beautiful differences that exist among us and the unique gifts people of every race and ethnicity bring to the body of Christ–and to our multi-ethnic society. Recently I wrote about the loss to church and society of not appreciating the difference of “introversion”, and indeed our prejudices against introverts. Speaking as a white, our failure to see the gifts Blacks, Asians, Latino/as and others bring to us is likewise both a deep affront and a terrible loss.

Revelation 7:9-10 describes the future of God’s people in these terms:

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” (New International Version)

I have to confess that this is the scene I look forward to more than anything in my life. It is the place where the dream of a “beloved community” will be fulfilled in all its splendor and beauty. For me to live toward that day is not to strive for some “color blind” ideal but rather to ask for the vision and courage to face the ways I see those of color wrongly and repent. It is to ask for the vision to see those of color in all of their God-given beauty that I might affirm and celebrate the good gifts of God in his multi-ethnic family. I’m not there yet, but one thing I know, color blindness won’t get me there.

Either/Or

February 7, 2014 / rtrube54 / 4 Comments

Yesterday I stirred up a bit of a firestorm of comments on my Facebook page because I posted my son’s blog, Evolution vs. Creation (IT DOESN’T MATTER). I posted it not to stir up a flurry of posts defending one or another theory (although it did–what was I thinking?). Nor do I think the discussion doesn’t matter. Actually, I think it does. Rather, I posted it because I think his post reflects what many of those on both Nye and Ham’s side don’t get–that the way this discussion has been occurring has become tiresome and off-putting. Many scientists would just like to get on with their science. And many Christians feel like we are shooting ourselves in the foot in having these arguments. Even if we “win” the argument, we lose people who conclude we are narrow-minded and anti-scientific. And as Ben pointed out, the center of our faith is the cross of Christ and his call for us to follow him in demonstrating and sharing his sacrificial love in a lost and needy world.

What I think matters crucially in this discussion that I find needed on both sides is a willingness to think about how physical causes that are scientifically observable and the activity of God in creating and sustaining the world go together. I feel both sides of the “debate” are locked into an “either/or” paradigm. Either the universe came about purely through a series of random events and a chain of physical causes, or God created the universe, whether in a shorter or longer time.

The issue is larger than the question of beginnings though. Christians are not deists who simply believe God started the world but that it now runs on its own. Hebrews 1:3 claims this of the Christ who redeems the world: “He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.” That states that God in Christ is continually active in the world. It has been said that “the laws of science are adjectives for the activity of God in the world.” It was this in fact that motivated many of the early scientists in their research, to more clearly understand how through physical causation God was at work in the world.

If in fact we believe that we can both study physical causation in the present and understand something of the mind and working of God, why can this not also be so when we speak of beginnings? Why can we not think in both/and terms? I think part of why both “sides” in debates like the one between Ham and Nye are so entrenched is that the debate is framed almost exclusively in either/or terms. It becomes a zero sum game where if science wins, the Bible loses, or if the Bible wins, science loses.

For scientists like Bill Nye, I think the question is, are you willing to admit the possibility of a universe in which God exists, and in which he actively is involved in the beginnings and continuance of its existence including your very own? Are you willing to admit that such a God is capable of revealing himself and that this, along with the fruits of reasoned observation should shape our view of the world? Good science doesn’t exclude this possibility, only “scientism”.

For Christians, are we willing to live in the tension of believing that Genesis 1-3 is a true account of God’s activity in creation while not forcing a reconciliation between the findings of geology, physics, and biology and our narrative of beginnings that compromises either faith or science? This means living with unanswered questions. The truth is, we live with many unanswered questions in this life and I would rather do that than summarily say that the science around origins is wrong or that Adam never existed.

For those who did not see the debate, Al Mohler, Jr. gives what seems a good account that underscores the real issue of the debate–the worldview clash between what I’ve called “scientism” and the Christian worldview that is open to learning both through reasoned inquiry and revelation. If we can get to a discussion of this, then I think we can have a discussion that “matters”.

Review: Theology of the Cross

February 6, 2014February 6, 2014 / rtrube54 / 1 Comment

Theology of the Cross by Charles B. Cousar
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I was prepared to have a “so-so” reaction to this book, which I found in a bookstore bargain bin. That wasn’t helped when I found that the writer was only going to deal with those Pauline texts accepted by mainline scholars (leaving out epistles like Ephesians, Colossians, and the Pastorals). Instead, I found this a profoundly helpful book in reflecting on the theology of the cross. In a sentence, what made it so was that Cousar stayed close to the biblical texts from which he was developing this biblical theology of the cross. And as a result, he reminded me of how the cross turns everything upside down.

After surveying the field of research including Kasemann’s work, he begins by considering the cross and our theology of God. He observes that we often simply “infinitize” the attributes of God. Instead, he considers the impact of the cross in revealing the righteousness and love of God in God’s willingness to enter the human condition.

He then moves to the question of human sinfulness and how the cross addresses this and explores the different theories of atonement as well as the elements of participation in Christ’s death found in Romans 6 and the idea of reconciliation in 2 Corinthians 5:14-6:2. I would differ with his approach here which seems to hold all on a par. I still believe that the idea of substitution is foundational to making sense of everything else. That, however, is a long discussion and Cousar reminds us that the images of salvation in Paul’s writing are diverse and show us indeed how great Christ’s saving work is.

Chapter 3 considers death and resurrection, and particularly how these two are intertwined in so much of Paul’s writing–together as God’s saving work, our promise for the future, and as a reality in our lives, both dying in Christ and experiencing his resurrection power.

Chapters 4 and 5 shift focus to the significance of the cross in Christian experience. Chapter 4 explores how the death of Christ forms a new people, providing a basis for unity and holiness across our various cultural identifiers. Chapter 5 goes deeper into the experience of identifying with the death of Christ in our experience of weakness and suffering, which the author sees as a major challenge for the North American church, even while this is a comfort to the church in many parts of the world.

His concluding chapter recapitulates the themes of the book, arguing for the centrality of the cross in Christian theology, how this shapes our ideas of God, the church, and the experience of God’s grace and final victory.

This book is part of Fortress Press’s Overtures to Biblical Theology series. I’ve been impressed with each of the volumes I’ve read. This was no exception.

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Paradoxes: Dying to Live

January 27, 2014January 26, 2014 / rtrube54 / Leave a comment

I’ve been thinking of late of some paradoxes of life. Paradoxes are ideas that seem apparently contradictory and yet are true. One of these is at the heart of my faith. It is the idea that to live, you must die. To try to hold onto your life is to lose it. Only if you lose it will you gain it. Jesus put it this way, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self?” (Luke 9:23-25).

The problem with this paradox is that to test its truth, one has to believe in resurrections. In our modern world, when you die, you just die. Period. And so it seems to make sense to hold onto life as long as you can. The only question is, what kind of life are you holding onto? Yesterday, I reviewed Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer, the story of Binx Bolling and a life of quiet, middle-class desperation. And I wonder, is this the kind of life we are holding onto–one of acquiring more things and experiences and wealth in our early years, so that we can buy retirement condos and play golf into senescence? Maybe we sprinkle in some service to humanity and philanthropy. Yet the story is just about us, about living life “my way” (in the words of the old Sinatra song), until we die and are forgotten.

I wonder if at least for some of those who come to faith as adults, it is an awakening from this desperately comfortable zombie-like existence. It is recognizing that we really need resurrection, and for that to take place, first we must really die to running our own lives, to making our selves supreme. This seems hard. But isn’t this what we do when we go under the knife for a major surgery for a life-threatening condition? We could die, but if we do not undergo the surgery, we will. This is what following Jesus means–to die to directing my own life to follow the direction of another.

I’ve been on this journey most of my life and it is still hard. Jesus speaks of taking up the cross daily. At present, one of the things this means is shifting attention in my work from some of the things I’ve really loved to some necessary but less glamorous “behind the scenes” work that I know how to do and may multiply our work in the long term. It involves a kind of dying but what I’ve also thought about as I begin to lean into this change is the promise of new life that could not be had any other way. It means living afresh into the paradox that is at the heart of the gospel.

I end with a quote I first heard years ago by Jim Eliot, a missionary martyred in South America by a tribe who eventually found faith, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

Review: Athanasius: The Life of Antony of Egypt

January 24, 2014January 24, 2014 / rtrube54 / 2 Comments

Athanasius: The Life of Antony of Egypt by Albert Haase
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Voices from the past can be like a bucket of cold water awakening us to realities to which our own age renders us oblivious. Reading Athanasius, particularly in this vivid paraphrase is like that. Part of this is the subject matter for most of this work, the life of Antony. Antony was a desert monastic–holy but hardly tame. Most striking in Athanasius narrative on Antony is his spiritual combat with demonic beings. Were it not for the wisdom and discernment Antony shows elsewhere, one might think him a bit deranged. Yet perhaps this reflects our own obliviousness to the spiritual powers and that they may lull us with subtleties and not need to attack directly. Here is one quote from Antony that gives a sense of this (and of Haase’s paraphrasing):

“If you really had guts and power, only one of you would have come. But since the Lord has conquered you, you had to gang up on me like schoolyard bullies. In reality, your bark is worse than your bite….If you really have guts and power, then come on and have at me! But if you are a wuss, why disturb me? For faith in our Lord is the strongest of defenses and the best of weapons.”(p.33)

We also see in Antony the combination of the interior spirituality of the desert with the ability to minister with insight with both individuals and groups where necessary. Antony’s life is an account of the physicality of spiritual formation as he deals with lust, fasting, physical suffering and more and how facing these dependent upon Christ can immeasurably deepen our love for God.

The book also includes several shorter pieces by Athanasius. The letter to Ammoun gives pastorally wise counsel to a young man about the normal physical excretions of the body (including nocturnal emissions) and that since God made the body, these are not evil or unclean but normal and good. The letter to Dracontius challenges one fleeing a call to the bishopric to courage and obedience. And the fragment of Festal Letter 19 is an important piece of evidence from the early fourth century to the already forming consensus of the church on the canon of scripture.

The book includes a study guide for reflection or discussion, and an annotated bibliography on the works of Athanasius–all in 128 pages!

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