I do not know how to describe it, but there are times it feels like I am the only one who notices. There are days when I find myself pondering over the sermon I just heard for hours. There are weeks when I find myself musing on why we use particular words when we talk about the Divine. There are times that it feels as though I am the only one who notices the words we use and whether or not they are the best ones for the job.
Yet…
I do not think that I am the only one. Not only that, but I have a sense that the current exodus of people from American Christianity is potentially an exciting time rather than a time for lamenting. I understand that may sound odd, but it is all a matter of perspective. Christianity is at a unique crossroads that will require the presence of these three things; faith, hope and love. Perhaps you recognize these virtues. Perhaps you know personally of their value and the influence they can have on a life.
I hear comments around me that are calling for nostalgia, a return to how things were. I hear comments of, “If only we had a culture where people took the faith seriously again!” Well, here is a thought… It is up to every generation to find out, through some trial and some error, how they will go about doing the faith.
Framing the Story
Everything depends on how we tell our histories to ourselves. Our lives are livable because we have found a way to interpret the events of our lives in a way that is at best, inspiring, or at bare minimum, palatable. In equal measure, everything depends on how we tell our futures to ourselves. This does not mean that we sugarcoat everything, but it does mean being honest.
Here is the story (dominant cultural narrative) as I understand it as it is told today.
Back in the day, everyone was Christian. No stores were open on Sundays and everyone went to church. Today, people question everything. There is no respect for tradition or the way things are supposed to be. People don’t have the faith anymore and now the church is dropping in numbers. If only things could go back to the way they were.
Here is my retelling.
Back in the day, a lot of people identified as Christian. Sure, most people went to church on Sundays but now people are realizing that the whole world is spiritual, not just the spaces within church walls. People are ready to improve on the tradition, and refine it. People have a different expression of faith and so the church doesn’t know what to do with them. We have an exciting time ahead of us as we try to lead the next generation into owning their faith.
I have a thought, a potentially unique thought that is invigorating and at the same time iconoclastic. Some sociologists are calling America “post-Christian,” meaning “a time after which Christianity was the main influence.” I think in some sense, these sociologists are as right as they are wrong. Yes, we are living in a time that seems “after” Christianity, but what if that means an improvement on the old form of the faith? What if the “post-Christian” are in a very real sense Christian (dare I say even “more Christian”), they just do not fit the classic model?
St. Bonaventure
For a good number of months I read and reread the works of St. Bonaventure. He was a unique person from church history. Known primarily as the second most important person of the Franciscan order (after St. Francis himself), he was also a professor of theology in Paris at the same time as St. Thomas Aquinas. What kept me reading and rereading him was that he found a way of maintaining the Trinitarian theology alongside deep experiential faith. His understanding of the faith was fantastic because it was alive and yet never fell into the trap of being wholly concerned with theology or wholly concerned with experience. I believe that this is what we have failed to do well, understand the dance between doing theology in a vocabulary that means something to people all the while encouraging and not dismissing personal experiences of the Divine.
Listening to a Pro
Once upon a time, I worked at a church just south of Philly as the youth director. One month I was told to find a new speaker for the upcoming Men’s Breakfast. This was out of my job description but I was not burdened by the task. On a whim, I contacted the first chair violin of the Philadelphia Orchestra, Daniel Kim. To my surprise, he was willing to come.
When that Saturday morning came, he spoke a bit about his own life and his own personal faith journey through it all. To close, he opened up his case and revealed a beautiful violin that was a couple hundred years old. I was stunned. As he stretched his fingers he casually mentioned that this violin was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars and my jaw dropped. He then played a number of pieces from Bach and Mozart from memory. I tried to record the audio on my phone but it failed in comparison to just being present in the moment. In his hands, he was able to produce marvelous melodies that touched all the men present that morning.
Getting Back to the Essentials
We have gotten a bit mixed up the past few decades about what is the faith. The faith is not the violin. The faith was not even his hands. The faith was the music that was produced. Our rich theology is the expensive and beautiful violin that is passed down from generation to generation. Our experiences, our emotions, our life story is what gives motion and passion to the fingers. But the Christian faith is the music that graces the ear. The music is a combination of the two things coming together. Daniel Kim was not the first person to play that particular violin, nor will he be the last, and that is a good and wonderful thing.
When one generation passes the violin to the next, they have to be careful to not to care too much about the violin because what really matters is the music that comes out of it. At the same time, the next generation to inherit the violin has to be careful not to think that it is their hands alone that makes the audible sound. It is somewhere in between the two, somewhere in the interaction between the life experience of the next generation and the rich theology of the older one that the faith is allowed to be the melody that inspires, transform us and lead us dancing into the next day.
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