How Will Technology Affect the Church?

In 2011 the Christian world celebrated the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible. The publication of this volume made the Bible available to the common people who could read and gave everyone access to its instructions and judgments. They no longer needed a preacher or teacher to interpret it for them. The Roman Catholic Church looked at this as dangerous. If the people could read the Bible they may not need the preacher or the Church. That was not the way history records the following events. People still needed formal, congregational worship and the insistent reminder from the preacher that their sins were both formidable and forgivable.

On CNN’s Belief Blog roll, Lisa Miller, the former Christian writer for Newsweek, asked this question, “Will technology bring down the church as we know it today?” Andy Braner answered the question with, “No.” He stated that the access to the Bible on an iPod or Smart Phone did not replace the people who worship together and share in the blessings of the church congregation.

While it is true that you can get a sermon from almost any source, phone, TV, radio, video, etc., until you share that experience with other people in personal contact, you have not experienced the full measure of being part of the Body of Christ.

I doubt the football teams worried about the loss of an audience in the bleachers when their games were broadcast on TV. Well, maybe they did. For a while games were not broadcast within 100 or 150 miles of the stadium because they did not want to give people the option of staying home to watch. I don’t think they do that anymore. I think the true fan enjoys the hoopla and excitement of attending the game in person too much to let convenience steal the show.

This is true of the church too. Participation in the activity is so much more than watching TV or reading a text on the iPod or listening to a recording. It’s like the difference between seeing a picture of the Matterhorn and climbing its heights. Is it more fun to watch a snowball fight or get snow down your shirt?

I think Lisa Miller has missed the point, but most of the observers of church behavior miss it too. You don’t really understand until you join in the fun or challenge or struggle. Look for another post on this subject. I'm not through yet.

Read Lisa Miller's article here http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/05/15/my-take-how-technology-could-bring-down-the-church/

Read Andy Braner's response here
http://www.andybraner.com

My Problem with Reality

People, and I include Christians in this category, want to rationalize events and behaviors to make some kind of logical sense.  I think most of us use logic to mean something that makes sense to us.  It means we can justify the way we want to view the world. 

We often find people wanting to believe in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, but they want to base their belief on historical facts and physical realities.  I love to read history, and finding artifacts from biblical events thrills me.  Reading about excavations of ancient cities or battles is exciting.  Understanding the engineering of the water systems and the building of walls reveals technology I had never expected.  It makes those stories in the Bible real and present, but it is not the basis of my faith. 

The truths the Bible teaches do not depend on our understanding of history.  We make a severe error when we depend on the provable, physical reality to explain or prove a spiritual truth.  Some things cannot be proven in physical reality, but the spiritual significance cannot be jeopardized because we haven't found the DNA.

We claim to experience the presence of Jesus when we pray based on his promise in Matthew 18:20 that "where two or three are gathered" in his name he will be with them, but then we want to see a fluttering of the curtains to indicate his presence.  If this is a faith based event, then we must take it by faith that he is with us.  We don't need the curtains. 

I cannot explain miracles.  I believe they happen.  I don't know why.  Some people dedicate themselves to investigating events that defy explanation.  I don't even argue with that, but explaining the event does not make it miraculous or prevent it from being miraculous.

It seems counter-intuitive to expect a spiritual event to express itself in a physical form.  Those things that are spiritual have spiritual consequences in people.  Understanding the Holy Spirit means that he moves me to act in the physical plane, but I do not need to see physical actions to believe he is present.  It is true that the Bible records dramatic events like mighty winds and tongues of flame accompanied his descent.  I believe that, but I don't put that requirement on him.  He is free to act as he chooses, and I am obliged to believe in him however he comes.

How would your understanding of God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit change if it depended totally on physical realities?

The 400th Anniversary of the King James Bible

         May 2, 2011 marked the 400th anniversary of the delivery of the first edition of the King James Version of the Bible to the Puritan fathers who pled with James the first of England to give them a Bible in their language.  The work had taken the translators about six or seven years to complete, and it came at a critical time in the history of England.
         The Puritans were a group of reformers who sought to purify the practices of the Church of England.  The Bible translated from  Latin was one concession James was willing to make to pacify them.  Nine years later they took it with them to the New World. 
         The King James Version of the Bible made a profound and lasting mark on English-speaking nations.  Its words have echoed from pulpits around the world and from space: “In the beginning God created heaven and earth.”
         In the middle of the 20th Century some clamor arose about the antique language and difficult passages.  I actually guess in my childish mind I agreed with the pastor who proudly proclaimed: “If it was good enough for the Apostle Paul, it’s good enough for me.”  I thought the Bible was the KJV and any changes would be sacrilege. 
          As I matured and grasped the enormous importance of having the Bible available in the common language, I simultaneously came to appreciate the grandeur of the King James English.  Now we have a huge variety of modern English translations with some adaptations to slang and vernacular speech.  I often use other versions when I study a difficult passage.  Sometimes I even like to go back to the Vulgate.  
           I return to the magnificant tones of the KJV for reading and for poetic emphasis.  KJV is largely metered in the easy iambic rhythm that lends itself to reading aloud.  Phrases like, “And so it was that while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered…,” have become a staple in our language.Perhaps because the KJV was the Bible of my childhood, and that is the version I memorized, I enjoy reading about the impact it has had on the our society and the world at large. 

Homo Unius Libri

I have just come to a new understanding of a phrase I've been hearing and misapplying:  spiritual formation.  I have heard it for several years, but I never dug into the meaning or the practice until today.  I thought it was a good thing--people were seeking to become spiritual and to recognize God in daily life.  Well, maybe not.


Maybe they were seeking candles or aromas or things of nature to provide a peaceful and meditative mood.  To feel the sun on the skin and the cooling breeze does not make one spiritual.  It may make you sunburned or cool you off, but this is not a spiritual experience. I have read Thomas Merton who was a contemplative monk.  I valued his insights, but I don't intend to retire to a monastery or a convent and stare at the wall waiting for God to speak to me.  


God speaks to me through the words in the Bible.  Sometimes I get inspired by other people who read the Bible and express opinions and revelations.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer is one who inspires me a lot, and Andrew Murray, Mother Teresa; these and others I read speak of the Bible, not rituals or manufactured evidence of peace and harmony.  Their writing and their lives reveal God, not some vague concept of peace floating on a cloud.


Homo unius libre means "man of one book."  This is a phrase John Wesley used meaning that he sought inspiration and guidance from the Bible.  We may read other books, but they must align with the Bible and be judged by it.  


I think I have even done some of the "spiritual formation" in classes or speeches.  I have given the instruction to clear you mind of everything and wait for God to speak to you.  This is really dumb.  Better if we read a scripture and focus on it and memorize it so we can carry it with us.  Then God's word may become a "lamp for the feet and a light for the path."  


The next time someone tells you about "spiritual formation," be very cautious and question what kind of spirit they intend to form.  Seek the Bible's truths and God's path for you, and don't be lured to the nothingness of a vague filmy expanse of highway that leads nowhere.  Become a man or woman of one book.

Rain in Winter

Image by protoflux via Flickr

I love a rainy day, but rain in winter has a singular feel.  When the temperature is low, but not freezing, and the air is piercing, the time has come to reflect on the benefit of this unpleasant state.  It's not a day to enjoy the smell of the flowers or the light of the sun.  It is a time to review and anticipate.

We have had a drought of some consequence.  Many people have sold livestock because they didn't have pasture and couldn't afford to buy hay.  Fishermen have agonized over the lake levels and concern for the fish populations.  Homeowners have watered the foundations of their houses to prevent shifting and cracking.  On sand that is of less concern, but on the Blackland prairie it is real threat.

Rain in winter is a time for a warm comforter and a book of Robert Frost or Emily Dickinson or the Psalms and maybe even a fire in the fireplace and memories.  

I remember walking with my father as he started to work and I went to school.  It was not freezing, but the wind in our faces was biting and the mist stood on the skin piercing like needles.

"Nothing is colder than a wet. east wind," he said as we crossed the yard.  He had his hands jammed in his pants pockets and his suit coat flapped in the wind.  I knew the temperature was probably 38 or 40 degrees F, but I understood his statement, too.  The power to chill to the bone lay in the moisture and the air movement.

When we turned the corner and followed the sidewalk south the wind was no longer in our faces, and the weather and the complaints stopped; we accepted this as winter time in East Texas.    

The retreat to the couch with a blanket and a book is a long held dream.  I do it sometimes, but the mood or the atmosphere are more real than the event.  The rain will soak the ground after the long dry spell, and planting will be followed by budding, growth, and harvest.  For me, the books will be absorbed, and the long thoughts of winter afternoons have the hope of blossoming into new thoughts as winter passes.  Dormant seasons give rest from activity and offer the possibility of new crops or projects.

Dry Well

Sometimes I feel like the well has gone dry--I just don't have much to say, so today I'll write about that.  I must begin to keep a pad in my pocket or purse to note the ideas that flit through my mind but don't stay long enough to get discussed and explored.  Maybe it's old age again--my mind doesn't retain things long enough--no, I don't think so.  I think I allow distractions to move in.

My new distraction is Pinterest.  It is really clever for people who are interested in crafts, decorating, fashion, hair, nails, make-up, etc., but I am into the things you have to write about rather than the things you look at.  I have had fun assembling some kite pictures, dogs, bread, Christian writers, Carnival--click over here to see what I did, but I wanted to give all the details and make comments.  This is the place for me.

I don't know what to call myself; less visual comes to mind.  I'm not good with fashion and trends.  They look great on others, but I have neither the vision nor desire to pursue them.  Ideas and meaning and consequences are the trails I like to follow.  It all goes back to my mother and my father.  They liked to read.  Somewhere along the way, I caught the bug too.  Writing something that communicates with other people is fabulous.  Not that everybody agrees--no, it's a conversation, an argument, an exploration--remember, it's communication.  The pictures and images are too, but they are not my medium.

A Memory of Mystery and Surprise

When I was little, my mother's brother was a frequent visitor to our home.  He was gregarious and talkative and enjoyed games and tricks.  Occasionally, I became an unwitting part of his trickery.  


Daddy sometimes had meetings in the evenings, and Mama and I were left to our own devices for entertainment.  She always loved to read so it wasn't such a problem for her to entertain herself for an hour or so.  I was less easily satisfied, but I was an obedient child, and I was satisfied with coloring for a while.


On this particular evening Mama was sitting in her chair reading and I was engaged with the coloring book when we heard footsteps come in the front door through the living room to the bedroom.  I looked up and there was my Uncle Jimmie with his finger to his lips in a hushed and secret posture.  I sat back down obediently with my colors.  He sat down in a chair near me and continued to indicate silence.  I waited impatiently, tensely, and Mama continued to read.


Presently, we heard footsteps enter the front door, cross the living room, and enter the bedroom again.  Mama looked up to see Daddy enter.  Her face revealed fear, then horror.  If this was Daddy, who was the other one?  She scanned the bedroom quickly to find a slyly grinning Jimmie seated calmly in the corner.


She didn't know whether to be angry or relieved, but she was accustomed to his tricks, and she loved him as an adoring sister.  After her heart recovered it normal rhythm, she laughed with him, but I'm not sure she thought it was really that funny.