Caregivers of the Dead

     A short while ago, I responded (with my FD crew) to one of the more gruesome motor vehicle fatalities I’ve seen so far in my time as a fire department chaplain. Sure I’ve seen dead bodies before, but not so many that I’ve “gotten used to it.” This one stuck with me for several reasons, mostly due to the time it took to free the victim from the vehicle. Three hours is a long time to stand around in the Florida heat while a deceased human is slowly extricated from an overturned van.    

     Such times can test your internal constitution, and reveal your capacity to stay focused on the job you need to perform. For me as a chaplain, my job has many layers, most of which are intangible. There can be specific functions to the role, but most often my job is to be randomly encouraging with reassuring smiles, human contact, and what is called “the ministry of presence.” So being “present” for my Seminole County fire crew, the Seminole County Sheriff’s deputies and Florida Highway Patrolmen on scene was really what was on my mind.

     That changed, though, when another team arrived on the scene with whom I had not interacted before: the medical examiner and coroner. I was struck by the meticulous detail the M.E. had to document concerning the entire scene, the apparent cause of death, and even the body itself. Photographs were taken from every angle so as to preserve each view of the vehicle and the deceased. Her singular focus was that of capturing every relevant detail so that the story of the victim’s death could accurately be told. Who would later need that story to be told correctly? The victim’s family? Law enforcement? A jury? The M.E. carries a tremendous responsibility reporting to the living how a soul left this Earth; a story that will have a far-reaching impact, and that will endure through all the generations of the victim’s progeny.

     Another “caregiver of the dead” that gave me pause, however, was the man from the coroner’s office whose role was to transport the deceased away. I imagine that such a profession could become taxing. It’s never your job to transport the living or be involved in their rescue. No…all of your “clients” are dead. Your passengers, whether meeting their demise in peaceful or violent fashion, calmly or through much suffering, all have the same state of lifelessness. These keepers of the dead bear a burden which most are uncomfortable discussing. In film (especially westerns) they are portrayed as macabre characters all clad in black, randomly approaching the stranger in town with a tape measure so as to get a head start on building their coffin. They’re never featured as the happy individual with a normal family, a burgeoning romance, and a network of friends they meet down at the pub. We don’t like thinking about the dead, so we imagine their caregivers as someone we’d rather not be. This is very unfortunate.

     I must confess that I, myself, have been guilty of the above misconception before…that is until this encounter. As I observed the gentle care and attention to dignity shown for the dead by this man, I felt myself developing an entirely different view. With great personal alarm I realized how under-appreciated he has been, and others like him with the same job. My great hope is that I was able to be of some encouragement to him on the spot, for it was in the flashing minutes of standing there in the middle of the road that the epiphany of his necessity struck me. Flooding my mind was all the Biblical references to his role that I had read before, and the great need for his role across cultures.

     To some it might have seemed odd that I wanted to help him carry the body to his vehicle, but to me it had suddenly become a great privilege to assist him in any way. Overwhelmed with this new revelation, I wrote the following Prayer for the Coroner (shown below):

Our Father in heaven…

Who gave to our forefather, Joseph,
    faithful brothers that would carry his body
    to his final resting place in the Promised Land;
Who inspired women to care for the body of our Lord
    before He rose from the dead,
Grant, we ask, your Grace upon those that,
    with gentle care and respect for the departed,
    transport the earthly remains of those that have died
    as such souls leave for their heavenly journey.
Comfort those who must examine and report
    on the remains of people now gone
    in order to tell the story of their passing,
    that the living will know the truth how the deceased left this world.
By Your Spirit, remind these workers of respect for the dead
    of the great importance of their profession,
    and fill them with assurance that their example
    inspires the respect and reverence of others as well.
These things we ask on account of Him who first revealed his Resurrection
    to those who came to care for his body, Jesus Christ our Lord.       

Amen.

    Hopefully we all are able to better appreciate what these people do for us. When the dead leave us behind, our mourning process is facilitated by a chain of dedicated individuals that must care for our deceased loved one along the way; from the M.E. and coroner, to the funeral staff and even those that carry out what is done with remains (burial digging, cremation technician, etc.). Care for the dead is one of those bedrock practices that makes us human, separating us from animals and revealing culture in the archaeological record. Let us show our appreciation for these “caregivers of the dead” and consider the great calling they carry for our benefit.

The Theology of a Cadaver?

In my capacity as a Chaplain for the Seminole County Fire Department, it’s often a privilege to be present when personnel are training, honing the skills they need for any given call and emergency. Such training can include everything from hose and hydrant drills to high angle rescue, to medic emergency procedures. For paramedic practices, various dummies have been manufactured to help train personnel for protocols in CPR and airway intubation, and everything in between. These synthetic dummies, however, cannot replace the value of practice on the “real thing”: the human body.

This presents a challenge for designing training. How much of that can be practiced on a live volunteer? People might willingly be dragged across smooth floor, lifted into a rescue basket, or have their “broken” leg splinted, but they won’t agree to be intubated (airway tube), shocked (AED) or have someone practice drilling into their bones. For those later exercises, willing people have willed that their bodies be donated to science; and for purposes of the medic training, that resulted in the “Cadaver Lab.”

As chaplain, such moments make me question just how much of the fire department’s training do I really want to attend. On the surface, it seemed unwise, but brave the Cadaver Lab I did, and I’m now grateful to have been included. What’s more? I think that such training resources like the Cadaver Lab need to be incorporated into a theology of the body that permeates Christianity.

I’d like to offer a different take on the concept taught among Christians that comes from the book of 1st Corinthians. “Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price. Therefore glorify God with your body” (1 Cor. 6:19-20, NET). The context of this statement was the Apostle Paul’s admonition for the reader to abstain from sexual immorality, arguing that there’s no such thing as a “victimless crime;” that sexual sins violate the mandate of your design, and the intent of your body’s rightful owner…God.

This concept of the body as “God’s temple” has, in some circles, been expanded to prohibit other vices indulged with the body as well (i.e. gluttony, drunkenness, and some have gone on to apply to it smoking as well). In any event, the “body as God’s temple” concept has been applied to encourage abstinence; abstaining from sexual sins or any other vice that debases one’s own body from its intended dignity and purpose. This is a good and right message, and one sorely needed in a culture that indulges every appetite and whim.

The discipline of abstaining, however, is only half the message. Studying the spiritual disciplines intended for Lent (the penitential season that precedes Easter in the Christian calendar) will lead you to authors such as Richard Foster and Dallas Willard, who have written about both the abstaining AND engaging disciplines. Abstaining disciplines offer categories of things to DON’T do, while engaging disciplines point toward things to DO. On the one hand, examples of abstaining disciplines are things like fasting, silence, solitude, and frugality. On the other hand, examples of engaging disciplines include things like generosity, fellowship, or study. Some will think that this is a stretch, but I think the complementary categories of abstaining and engaging disciplines also can be applied to the “body as God’s temple” concept.

If there are things to NOT do with “God’s temple,” surely there are things to DO with God’s temple as well. This seems to me an important teaching that, while lacking a clear Bible verse as its referent, permeates the Christian notion of service. The manner in which you serve the purposes of God are all done in the body. In other words, every way you serve God you do so with “God’s temple.” When you show appropriate affection to a loved one, you assure them of their value using “God’s temple.” When you carry a heavy load for someone moving boxes, you serve them with “God’s temple.” Likewise, when you give blood in times of need, you offer life-giving assistance using “God’s temple.”

Imagine offering, in your last will and testament, “God’s temple” for the furtherance of life-saving knowledge for firefighters, paramedics and nurses in training. That is what these people did who gave their bodies for the Cadaver Lab. The instructor took a moment of silence at the beginning of the class to honor those that had donated their bodies for the lab, which I found to be an appropriate and fitting homage. It seemed to me, though, that a Christian perspective can go even further.

As with an organ donor, upon death the body is donated to give life. As for things to DO with “God’s temple” (as opposed to things NOT to do), I can think of few more praiseworthy uses for “God’s temple.” Were any of the people, whose body helped to teach medic procedures, Christians? I have no idea, and it holds no bearing on the nobility of their choice. I do think, however, that Christians, having been taught the “body as God’s temple” concept, should be particularly open to such final acts of service. As one’s final choice with what to do with their body, surely advancing knowledge and giving life should be high on the list of things to do with “the temple of the Holy Spirit.”

Without Wind, There is No Flight

Come Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove,     

    With all thy quick'ning powers; 

Kindle a flame of sacred love 

    In these cold hearts of ours. 

See how we trifle here below, 

    Fond of these earthly toys: 

Our souls, how heavily they go, 

    To reach eternal joys. 

In vain we tune our formal songs, 

    In vain we strive to rise: 

Hosannas languish on our tongues, 

    And our devotion dies. 

Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove, 

    With all thy quick'ning powers; 

Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love, 

    And that shall kindle ours.    Amen. 

Hymn# 369: Hymnal 1940 

    One of the more interesting things I learned from getting a drone pilot's license was having to know how actual aircraft work. To pass the exam to achieve a commercial license to operate an small Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (UAV), you had to learn about much that normal pilots of manned aircraft have to know. Details such as weather patterns, navigation, and airspace regulations (particularly important) were among the required knowledge, but so was something seemingly less applicable to small droves: airspeed. 

    Fixed-wing aircraft achieve flight because air passes over and under their wings at such a speed to produce lift. The airspeed is the speed with which the air is flowing over and under the wings and doesn't correspond directly to ground speed. An aircraft with a headwind might have an airspeed that is significantly greater than how fast they are traveling from point A to point B. For this reason, a strong tailwind can undermine the aircraft's ability to even stay in the air. A phenomenon known as "wind sheer" can abruptly reduce the aircraft's airspeed, causing it to stall and fall out of the sky. Airspeed, not ground speed, is what enables the aircraft to take off from the ground and stay in the air once it's up. 

    Without airspeed, the aircraft is not an aircraft at all. It's instead (at best) a rather awkward and inefficient vehicle for driving (taxiing) from one end of the airport to another, or (at worst) a harmful object falling out of the sky. It's certainly not able to operate as designed: as an aircraft. 

    Such is the case for the Christian, who can be likened to an aircraft. The Christian has a design, a purpose, and function in the world, and requires the enablement of "wind" in order to achieve that function. Now many sermons have been given before about the "wind" that blew through the room where the Apostle's were gathered together in Acts 2:2. These are often a bit awkward since the texts says "Suddenly a sound like a violent wind blowing came from heaven and filled the entire house where they were sitting" (NET). Nevertheless, while Acts 2 emphasizes the "sound" of a mighty wind, rather than the wind itself, other passages associate the Spirit of God with a "wind" that passes over the primordial Creation (Gen 1:2), or that is "breathed out" by Christ onto his disciples (John 20:22). Such is the association of the Spirit of God with "breath" and "wind" that we categorize our study of the Doctrine of the Holy Spirit as "Pneumatology." (pneuma = Greek for "breath" or "spirit"). 

    So the analogy of wind to describe the movement of the Spirit of God is not only reasonable, but frequent in the Scriptures. For this reason, this last Sunday as we sang Hymn #369 for the Pentecost, it occurred to me that Isaac Watts was describing the operation of an aircraft. Without the airspeed provided by the Divine "wind," the aircraft (worshipper/Christian) doesn't get off the ground at all. The two center verses describe with glaring theological accuracy the complete inability to worship as we ought to, function as we must, or accomplish anything for which we are designed without the enablement of the Holy Spirit. Such is our dependency on His "airspeed" passing over our wings. 

    I once had a young man tell me, "It's hard to be a Christian," to which I corrected him, "Well, the further you get, you realize it's actually impossible. We're totally reliant on the enabling of the Holy Spirit to fulfill the most basic parts of our design." I may have sounded insightful at the time, but such truths can be easily forgotten, and I, myself, need reminders like Hymn #369 to put things back into perspective; especially on days such as Pentecost, when we remember that Christ did not leave us comfortless, but instead sent to us a Helper, an Advocate, and Comforter to provide the "airspeed" needed to fly as we must in His service. 

Mary as a "Church Growth" Model

As an Anglican Christian (or "British Orthodox" as my friend Johnny Simmons puts it), I maintain a position on certain matters firmly in the middle-ground of historic Church debate. Regarding the nature of the Sacraments, particularly the elements of communion, the Roman Catholics have asserted the "real presence" of Christ in them with Transubstantiation, while the Baptists have asserted the "real absence" of Christ from them with "memorialism." The Anglican position has been to declare them both falling victim to the folly of over-explaining what remains a mystery. Likewise, regarding authority in the Church, the RCC has over-emphasized papacy and church canons to a place arguably equal to the Holy Scriptures. On the other end, Baptist tradition has over-individualized the Faith by suggesting anyone owning a Bible is as authoritative as anyone else. The Anglican view is to see the Scriptures as supreme and uniquely authoritative, yet interpreted within the context of a faithful episcopate; a middle ground.

In addition, another "middle ground" taken by Anglican tradition is a view of Mary, the "theotokos" (the "God-bearer"), the mother of Jesus. From an Anglican view, the RCC takes the veneration of Mary to an unhealthy level, elevating her to co-redeemer, ongoingly influential with the Savior, worthy recipient of the prayers of the devout. The Baptist tradition however, at least in the American Evangelical strain, is to avoid her veneration at all. On the contrary, often Baptists will consciously avoid any hint of reverence regarding Mary because of fears it can appear "Catholic." The Anglican view does not suffer these fears though, for the Church of the 1st millennium venerated the memory and example of Mary without the imbalance that Rome would later fall into.

It is no small matter to remember the Saints like a tribal custom of venerating the ancestors. In fact, many cultures that revere their ancestors consider their lives and examples of such import as to see them as living concurrently with the living. Archaeologists frequently find burial of these ancestors below the floor of the house because the living wanted to keep the honored dead nearby. The Church knows much of this custom, with burial crypts often located under the floor of historic churches, or at least nearby in the courtyard. "Tribal Christianity" has been among those cultures keeping the ancestors of the Faith ("Saints") front of mind in this manner, and among those Saints few can be more relevant - apart from Christ himself - than Mary, the mother of Jesus. For this reason, her life is rightly examined for examples of how the Church is to operate; chief among them being "His mother told the servants, 'Whatever he tells you, do it'" (John 2:5), when she articulated the Church's timeless message to the world.

While there are many ways that Mary, the mother of Jesus, serves as an example to the Church and to believers everywhere, her life also offers a paradigm of "church growth" in the midst of a world full of corporate fads and business seminar models imposed upon the Bride of Christ. Since first entering Bible college over twenty years ago, I've spent my time since then in and around church ministry paying close attention to the trends and directions churches take in the ever-present pressure to grow their ministry, extend their influence and establish systematic methods for perpetual expansion. In other words, I've been an attentive student of the "church growth" models, paradigms and plans that have been fed churches of varying sizes, ages and demographics. Over these 20 years I've observed that most attempts to grow "a church" are based on corporate business models that, when applied to a church, rob it of essential characteristics of the Body (as described in New Testament texts, usually containing a "one another" phrase). Instead, churches grow most legitimately when they mirror the example of Mary. I'll offer a summary of this below and flesh it out after...

Mary was a young woman "betrothed" (sort of like "engaged" but more serious than our culture treats it) to Joseph. By all Gospel accounts she was a virgin, having engaged in no activity from which she could expect to become pregnant. Nevertheless, on a particular occasion an angel shows up and tells her - a faithful Jewish maiden - that due to no effort of hers, she's going to have a child - a son, to be specific. It seems God has caused new life to spontaneously grow within her, so that from her, no thanks to her, God's chief new work will be born. None of the cause is attributable to Mary, other than her faithfulness as a Jewish woman at the time. She had not prayed to get pregnant, as in the case of Hannah in 1 Samuel. She had not planned for it, for indeed the angel's announcement was a surprise. She had not worked toward it, for Matthew is specific that this was BEFORE she and Joseph "came together" (Matt 1:18). She's called "the virgin Mary" and Jesus is referred to as "born of a virgin" because this is well-establish tradition in Scripture.

Let us now consider the physiology of a young woman. When she becomes pregnant, she grows and expands. Her body swells and it is clear she is "with child," but this is for the specific purpose of growing an entire other person waiting to leave it in a few months. Can we be frank? When a woman grows and expands like that, and it is NOT because another person is soon to be born, we call that "getting fat." Mary was NOT about to expand and grow due to obesity. She WAS expanding and growing because from her would be born the Son of God, the Messiah, the unique work of God into the world, Emmanuel..."God with us." Mary's "growth" was not attributable to her activity, planning or preparation. It was all a work of God who had designated her from which to birth his Work.

Most "church growth" models are interested in growing "a church" more than "The Church." Lacking a strong Ecclesiology, they default to business paradigms most familiar to their Evangelical elder boards stacked with corporate middle-managers and executives. The marriage of north American Evangelicalism and a free-market economy is on full display when church consultants advise pastors to "structure for growth," develop your "5 to 10 year plan," consider locations and buildings as transient, develop strategic processes and "remain visionary." The advice typically resembles something similar to the following plan:

• examine the congregational makeup (demographics, distance, etc.)
• determine the congregational values (actual vs aspirational)
• formulate the congregational mission that will most likely affect ministry success
• articulate the congregational vision to be pursued into the future
• plan and execute the congregational strategy for realizing the vision by pursuing the mission

The congregational elders love it because it so resembles the process whereby their respective businesses have achieved success in the marketplace. The consultants love it because it appeals both to the church and corporate marketplaces. Because of the cross-pollenizing that naturally occurs between pastors and corporate peers, it appears a "win-win" all around (homage to Stephen Covey). Businesses do well following the principles outlined in advanced strategic planning, but do churches do just as well? Is all growth for a church positive when they strive for it as businesses do?

Remember, Mary was not planning to "grow," nor was she doing anything to cause it. It was an act of God. She was simply being faithful, and God decided the timing. If a church experiences spontaneous growth, due to no effort of its own, this may be Providential timing to expand "The Church" by starting a whole new Body. Otherwise, bodies are designed to be a certain size, and beyond that they are unhealthy. Most "church growth" models, by applying business growth paradigms to an organic entity are simply a "weight gain program" (as opposed to a weight loss program). Somehow, having a fat, sedentary, "expanding" body is a mark of success. In some societies this is actually the case. The fat chieftain's obesity is a sign of the abundance supposedly enjoyed by community. Is that the type of "body" that a church should really pursue?

Not to dive too deeply into a fitness analogy, but we know that when bodies become too obese they lose much of the abilities that a "normal body" is supposed to have in terms of running, jumping, climbing, digestion, health, circulation, etc. My experience has been that churches can grow too big, to expansive, too "obese" to perform those tasks that the New Testament describes for a local church body. Churches in the New Testament, particularly those to whom is addressed the Pauline epistles, are normal sized "bodies," fit and able to perform all the "one another" admonitions...having the "body" of a normal sized Galilean woman (a.k.a. Mary). If they expand due to a spontaneous decision of God, then it's to send out people and start a new church, not just get fatter, bigger, larger.

In twenty years I have witnessed churches grow and lose their capability to "be a church" in the process because of numerical "obesity." I've witnessed other churches TRY to grow in the same manner, only to die off because people perceived this move toward business models and decide they'd rather go to a "church" down the road than become part of a corporate flow chart. I've also witnessed churches remain faithfully the same size, and IF they experienced any growth, it was Providential for them to "birth" some new work out from them (a new church, sending out missionaries, training new clergy and sending them out). In this the last category was following the example of Mary, though without calling it that.

Corporate growth models are fully appropriate for businesses, but when applied to churches they have a negative effect often not perceived by those elated by the expansion of the enterprise. After all, in a culture where success is always interpreted as "Divine blessing," success is seldom scrutinized as to whether we succeeded at the right things. Particularly in relationship to the Body of Christ, it's frequently true to "climb the corporate ladder, only to discover it was leaning against the wrong wall." If there is ANY business model than can be applied to churches, it should be noted that under the "Starbucks model," the Church overtook the Roman Empire  - the most powerful regime in the world for it's time. Under the "Walmart model," however, Evangelicalism in North America has been a "flash in the pan," experiencing rapid decline after a relatively short period of cultural dominance.

A church is a "body," not a business; and like a body, it's designed to be a certain size, with certain capabilities that require a certain size. The Church conquered the Roman Empire by making many such bodies, not by making any of them in particular obese symbols of abundance. A church is a body, and even resembles a "body" in the young, Galilean, Jewish woman sense. If, for reasons which seem good to him, God causes her to expand, it is with the intent to "birth" some new work (a church, a missionary, a minister). If she is "pregnant" with new life, then that church must plan to "birth" that new work by training those families they will send out as a new church, training the missionaries they will send out into a new culture, or training those clergy they will send to lead a new congregation. But they are content that they are the size of a normal body, and should not expand beyond it otherwise.

Let's talk real numbers... with 100, or 120+/- (150 maximum) members (accounting for seasonal attendees), a church is a "normal sized body," able to operate in a manner described in Pauline Epistles. At this size a pastor is still a pastor; able to know names, be present in peoples' lives and keep the pastoral connection to people without the need to delegate pastoral duties to other staff. I once had "church growth" professor suggest that visitation was no place for a pastor, but instead that should be assigned a staff member or volunteer so that the "senior pastor" is free to focus on vision-casting and strategic planning; that a congregation should not get tied down to a building because it restricts the possibility for growth; that worship processes should remain fluid, and be regularly evaluated for widest appeal; and that supposedly everything "but sound doctrine" was "on the table" for a church dedicated to strategic growth planning. When I asked him, "What about developing a sense of 'scared space' for the congregation in a building through reverential architecture?" His response..."Sacred space? Where do you see THAT in the Bible?" This prof, who had little to no sense of sacred space, sacred times, sacred offices, sacred objects or sacred rites was a church growth and strategic planning professor, author and consultant whose influence has been widely felt in Evangelicalism. His advice fit well in the halls of Dallas Theological Seminary, but is wholly out of place in an Anglican context, or any other church wanting to resemble the triumphant Church of the 1st millennium.

A healthy, local church should strive to resemble Mary, the mother of Jesus. It remains faithful as a local body, not planning to grow by any effort of it's own. However, should God decide that it begins to swell, it is in preparation for "birthing" new life, a new ministry, a new minister. In this way, "The Church" grows even though "a church" does not. "Purpose-Driven" churches, strategic planning churches, seeker-friendly churches, "cell group" churches...all are striving to be the fat chieftain, symbolizing abundance. They no longer fit among the warriors, the maidens or the sages. They are the "fat man" sitting at the far end of the smoke-filled tent. That's what "strategic growth" churches are working to resemble, not Mary. Instead Mary, the "God-bearer," gives us an example for growing The Church that local churches should learn from.

Does America's "God" Even Exist?

The problem with using the term "God" as a proper name is that it's akin to how people speak to or about the "President." All U.S. presidents have had proper names in the past (i.e. "George Washington," "Abraham Lincoln," "Dwight Eisenhower" or "George Bush"), but in addressing them protocol demands people say "Mr. President." In the future, someone might actually needed to use the term "Madam President." But that use of the title as the proper name only works when addressing them directly, or speaking of them in a conversation wherein all that are part of the conversation know which "president" you're referring to. It doesn't work to simply say "back when the President ordered the buildup of American troops..." because another will rightfully ask, "Which 'president' are you referring to? Lincoln during the Civil War? Roosevelt for WWII? Bush '41 or Bush '43?" The use of the title as a name only works when everyone knows which entity you mean when using the title, either by direct address or through conversational context.

No one would question this principle in referring to U.S. Presidents, yet this truth is assumed not applicable when referring to "God." The title of "god" has, prior to monotheism becoming dominant in the West, been ascribed to those deities that a culture venerated and worshiped, entreating said divine entities for favors related to war victories, health, propagation and timely rains for yielding abundant crops. The famous pantheons of Rome, Greece and even the Vikings have latent cultural influence, shaping our calendars and being preserved in the names of our weekdays (Thor's Day = Thursday); yet none of the proper names of those ancient cultures find their way into our modern descriptions of "God" when we say it. We acknowledge that those bygone cultures had their "gods," but our culture means something very different when we say "God." Or do we?

What exactly is meant in American culture when people use the title "God" as a proper name?

In a house of worship, when everyone is in concert together over a mutual understanding of what is meant by "God" or which "god" they're referring to, then the use of the generic title of "God" is no problem. In a mosque, all of those praying to "God" know that they are referring to Allah as described in the Muslim tradition. Likewise, in a synagogue, referring to "God" has the shared understanding of Jewish traditions and Hebrew Bible to give shape and meaning to the title/proper name. In a Christian context, all in attendance understand that by "God" they mean the Triune God that has revealed himself to eternally be three persons as one (the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit) and clarified this agreement with frequent references to "the Lord Jesus Christ." Thus using the title/name "God" isn't problematic in the least because of the shared meaning in the gathering or religious context.

This shared understanding, though, cannot be assumed too broadly. In an increasingly pluralistic society, the number of world religions represented in the population are growing exponentially. This is not the greatest challenge to a shared understanding of what is meant by "God" though. What makes shared meaning of "God" so improbable is the triumph of individualism in matters concerning faith, religion and spirituality in American culture. Ask one hundred people, who profess belief in "God," and you will get at least seventy-six different descriptions of "God" as people make up, on the spot, a deity that is an amalgamation of all their favorite virtues. "I think of God as being like" they will begin, and then proceed to craft a deity that (1) makes sense to them, and (2) gives them the most comfort and affirmation. Whether or not such a "god" is attested in any ancient literature, or is represented in any of the world's major religions, is not relevant. It IS the deity that they can imagine when using the term "God," and therefore the authority of their own pronouncement is all that is needed to construct it.

The challenge we face, though, is that the deity they have described may not have "existed" prior to them describing it. (1) Is it attested in any literature prior to this person imagining it? (2) Is it represented in any religion other than merely in this person's own mind? If the answer is "no" to both, then it can reasonably be concluded that the person asked "what is God like?" just made it up on the spot. This might be taken as not the most tolerant position to assert, but I think it can responsibly suggested that if you make something up, there's a good chance it's not true (Yikes!). Some atheist skeptics might assert that all descriptions of "God" are made up, but I'd like to suggest that along a sliding scale, the probability increases something is "made up" when someone - on their own - makes it up.

Now, in all fairness, many in America "make up" their "God" having already inherited a Judeo-Christian framework out of cultural exposure. They will "name drop" things like "Bible," "Jesus" and "Father" without any doctrinal association to those terms, not knowing where they first heard them. Nevertheless, even with Judeo-Christian cultural assumptions as a guide, many still make up the rest, often with little regard for how credible their beliefs might be, or if their descriptions of "God" resemble any deity previously worshiped in history. What's more? "God" is the only proper name used along with the elective ignorance as to the history of that "God."

The triumph of individualism, as applied to peoples' views of "God," has been fully realized in America, in that I can make up my ideas of "God" on the spot, unconstrained by the specificity of having to NAME him, or cite historic ideas about him as my heritage. Generic theism is the default setting, and greater specificity is a divisive pursuit to be avoided. In fact, affirmation of the generic "God" is necessary for smooth interaction in the American civil society where the Constitution requires government not legally endorse one religious tradition over another. So then...what is meant by "God" when we say, in the Pledge of Allegiance, "one nation under God," or "In God We Trust" on our money? What "God" comes to mind at sporting events when people hear "God Bless America" sung? Well...frankly...anything you want.

Making up your own "God" is not just a right; in America, it's expected. "Can't you think for yourself?" comes the charge to anyone confessing to adhere to historic doctrines that predate their culture. In addition, keeping God generic is needed as to appear accepting of other religions one encounters. "Tolerance" is such a foundational doctrine of American civil religion, that monotheism (the belief that there exists just one God) must give way to henotheism (the belief that there are many gods, but one is loyal to just one of them; or that yours is your favorite; the "high god"). Though American culture would not revert to polytheism (the belief in many gods; pick your favorite; mix and match; assign each to geography and natural elements), what IS encouraged is a form of relativism in descriptions of "God" to mean whatever people want it to mean. It is distinctly "American" to keep "God" generic and undefined.

To invoke any proper names (e.g. the Lord Jesus Christ) beyond the "proper name" of "God" is seemingly to disenfranchise those that would not call "God" by that name, and to render uncomfortable those that would rather not delve into that specificity. Thus, America's "God" must, by necessity, be the generic construct that anyone - individually - can mean when they hear that "name" mentioned in nationalistic events (i.e. Pledge of Allegiance, money, "God Bless America," etc.). At the time of the nation's founding, a much more common understanding might have been enjoyed that "God" meant that deity traditionally taught in the Christian tradition. Now though, individualism has taken root so that America's "God" must instead be the what one makes up on the spot.

Unfortunately this generic, individually constructed, "God" is not well attested in history and does not enjoy a vibrant following in any religious subculture even today. Within the doors of mosques, synagogues and churches, "God" enjoys a high degree of specificity. Proper names are invoked and God's history with people is rehearsed to differentiate "God" as distinct - NOT generic. America's "God" does not exist outside of the spiritual ambiguity needed for nationalistic elements.

I am not a relativist. I'm a Christian; which means I own the "closed-mindedness" of being not only monotheistic, but also believing that the ONE God has revealed himself through the Incarnation and ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ, which was subsequently (and faithfully) explained through the writings of New Testament authors ("Apostles"), which have been reliably interpreted in the collective mainstream of later followers (The Church). Christian traditions have differed on some peripheral matters, but enjoyed two millennia of agreement in the doctrine of the Trinity*, codified in ecumenical creeds and confessions of Christian traditions throughout the world. And as a Christian, I belong to a "tribe" that confesses that the God who IS is Triune; and there is no other.

[*Can we finally dispense with the tiresome rebuttal "The word 'trinity' isn't in the Bible"? Neither is the word "gravity," yet evidence of it is found ubiquitously throughout its pages.]

But even if I were not a Christian, but instead were Jewish or Muslim, I still would scratch my head at the American instinct to keep "God" generic and unspecified, so that it can mean whatever anyone wants it to mean when they say it. Such a "God" is not historical, has no houses of worship, has written no sacred texts, has called no clergy into service, pronounces no moral codes, offers no redemption, provides no comfort. America's generic, made up, "God" does not exist.

Oh God exists alright...and he has existed long before I began trying to imagine him in forms I can manage with my finite categories. He existed long before the invention of American civil religion. He existed long before our culture came into being, and will exist eternally after it has vanished from the Earth. Not only this...but as a Christian I am also Trinitarian (there really doesn't exist a different type). So everyone should know what I mean when I say "God," but I'm also kinda weird that way.

Nevertheless, this new imagining of "God," as an individual creation of any given American, is a fairly recent concept; only about 200 years old. This new "doctrine" has grown though, causing conflict with those seeking to maintain historic specificity. It's not just Christians that may find themselves at odds with the American doctrine of generic theism though; Jews and Muslims may find similar conflicts (but I can only speak as a Christian). I can't be the only one that, when hearing the words "One Nation Under God," wants to ask "Which one do you mean?" Those advocating the return of school prayer never seem interested in specifying "prayer to whom?" Allah? Adonai? Jesus Christ? Odin? Amun?

The conversation goes like this...
Well meaning post: "We, as a country, need to put God first?"
Me: "What do you mean by 'God'?"
Posting person: "Well, to me God is like..." (and they proceed to make something up)
*sigh*

Admittedly, "One Nation...Under the Lord Jesus Christ" doesn't roll off the tongue quite the same, and I don't see any school board adopting that level of specificity anytime soon. However, if that's not what's blaring in the Christian's head as they say the Pledge of Allegiance, then it's possible they are slowly becoming more American than they are Christian, replacing the specific Triune God in their mind with the generic deity required by the culture. The uncomfortable conclusion is this...if the generic "God" of America, the creation of the individual, doesn't really exist, then adherence to American civil religion is - by necessity and practice - a functional "atheism" that is increasingly producing "One Nation Under no 'god' at all."

Spiritual vs Religious

Why pretend? It's confession time. I've never really thought of myself as all that deep. Peers have said they thought I am, but I think they're just acknowledging my attempts to sound like I'm deep. Seriously. It's probably some sort of compensation mechanism. Freud would have a field-day with it. I think I like to sound deep...it sounds deep when I can really come off sounding deep. Do I think I'm really as deep as I can sound? Oh heck no! Yeah, yeah. I know. Kind of a funky self-image for someone bent on an academic career. TELL me 'bout it!

Here's a problem that goes with that though...Spirituality is deep.

At least it is in experience-driven North American evangelicalism. The inward experience, the transcendent journey, the connection to the Divine is viewed as paramount. For this reason, the person of exceptional piety, of regular Bible study (I'm speaking within the Christian context), of verse memorization, of ubiquitous artwork and inspirational reminders following an uplifting saturation principle, of negligible faults and flaws is lauded as the greater believer.

Now, don't misunderstand. Those traits are all quite positive. But when they are juxtaposed against the "religious" person that finds the trappings, traditions, gatherings, history and structure of Christianity comforting, that's when spirituality - unfortunately - can actually be net negative.

How could I assert such a "heresy?"  Isn't life all about my personal relationship with Jesus Christ and my assurance that I'm saved by grace through faith? Again, I say there is nothing wrong with that at all. However, it often is used as an excuse to perpetuate the triumph of individualism in the America, which has done more to erode the work of the Church in the West that perhaps all other exterior attacks combined.

Years ago, when I was becoming increasingly disillusioned with how little my spirituality resembled the "Christian experience" a millennium ago (American Evangelicalism often prides itself on being un-moored from tradition and history), a friend of mine admonished me to consider a different tack. I often spoke of martial arts as holding value far beyond the mere pragmatism of fighting skills, but also containing history, heritage, tradition and trainer successions that I was pleased to be a part of. I spoke of the necessity to find these things within The Art, as opposed to just learning some MMA moves and then calling one's self a "martial artist." He challenged me, saying, "Aaron, if you ever get to the point where you think of being a Christian the way you think of being a martial artist, you'll find yourself in a liturgical tradition (Anglican, Catholic or Orthodox)." He was right.

Developing as an Anglican Christian, some of the old individualism is starting to come into stark relief against the backdrop of the Church in its communal and historical (even "tribal") glory. Increasingly I am recognizing the interlinked needs to both believe AND belong. Growing in my faith is fine, so long as it runs parallel to growing in The Faith. They are two sides of the same coin. Heads=belief/tails=belong. A coin lacking the validating image on either side would not be legitimate. Both sides are needed for the coin to have value.

This "balance" of believing and belonging, though, is seldom the focus of those touting their spirituality. On the contrary, great pride is taken in the fact that "I can believe in Jesus without having to go to church." They typically don't like it when I reply, "Indeed. Similar to how I have encountered many a firefighter that can fulfill their dream of fighting fire without having to belong to a department." Yes, so foreign is the concept of considering one's self a part of "the family of God" (enjoying all the benefits) without any regard for belonging to the visible "family of God" that the idea of a Christian not belonging to a church would have stymied the ancient church fathers of the 1st millenium. Their bewildered glance would have conveyed the rhetorical: "Who would claim to be THAT who did NOT?"

Nevertheless, many who seek to be "deep" and "spiritual" often do so specifically to differentiate themselves from the rest of the mindless simpletons that blindly attend services week in and week out, just committed to a tradition and ritual that seemingly doesn't help them grow. What the "deeply spiritual" person fails to account for are the advantages that the simple, tradition-driven person (whom that often denigrate) has over them; namely, continuity, community and comfort. In those churches services whose praxi fide is all about the individual's spirituality, countless sermons on "achieving" a sense of community are constantly necessary. Whereas those that already have a sense of belonging through a communal faith find it happens more naturally anyway.

In the choice between being "spiritual" or "religious," a balance is always the bulls-eye. But in a culture that already champions individualism and personal autonomy, I don't benefit from my faith discipline echoing that message. Considering what is most often meant by "spiritual," I find I'm better off weighing more heavily as "religious." In that case, I can belong to something that transcends how I feel any given day, that has a sense of tribal ancestry (Church Fathers), and meets my needs of socio-cultural integration without even having to try very hard.

I encounter often the person that confesses, "I consider myself spiritual, just not religious." Without batting an eye, I declare back, "That's fine. I consider myself religious, just not very spiritual." In this way, I can quickly concede that they are the "deeper" of us two, and move on without much debate. Of course, in my mind, I know I have a sense of belonging (regardless of how my belief fluctuates any given day), and that they will likely struggle with that once the effort needed to maintain "their faith" all the time starts to wear on them.

Christians in the Academy

Early in the 20th century, as American Christian fundamentalists perceived a growing threat from modernism, the divide between science and religion, that started in the 19th century (thanks in no small part to the diverse applications of Charles Darwin's theory of evolution) began to rapidly widen even further. Having largely abandoned the arts as a "secular" pursuit following the Second Great Awakening, fundamentalism was already pulling away from higher education in the mainstream. The Scopes "Monkey" Trial of 1925, however, sealed the fate of hopes for the populist devout considering the bastions of science and art to be a welcoming environment. The perceived gulf betwixt science and religion was fueled by fundamentalist and atheist hostilities alike until it became clear that Christians needed their own "safe" schools; thus giving rise to the Bible college movement.

An interesting dynamic evolved from this mixture of antagonizing currents: both the "sacred" and the "secular" seemed to agree that neither territory was right place for each other. This informal truce resulted in science being held with suspicion in Bible colleges (after all, aren't all scientists just atheist, evolution evangelist bodysnatchers intent on undercutting everything our teens learned at Youth Group?), and Christian fundamentalists saw Bible colleges as the preferred (if other options were even considered) option for higher education following graduation from the private school conducted in the local Baptist church. "Don't send your kids to that secular college," grew the refrain, "they'll come home all eat up with the science and won't believe not'in you taught'em." The arts, the sciences and literature were fed them within the confines of the fundamentalist sub-culture of the Bible college movement. In like manner, because of the Fundamentalist pulling away from the universities, mainline institutions became progressively more accustomed to operating without them. Thus, a Christian behaving and thinking like a Christian on the university campus became increasingly counter-culture, out of place and odd.

My own experience is testifying to this rift between education and fundamentalist religion on various fronts. It's one thing to enter an arena deciding not to argue evolution with anyone, but it's another thing altogether to realize that the evolution they're teaching in the mainstream science disciplines doesn't remotely resemble the "evolution" I was taught to hate at the Bible college. To imagine a theological equivalent, it would be as if university professors teach that Christian preachers are still using Bible verses to argue in favor of slavery. The Fundamental Baptist response would be, "What? That hasn't been the case for 150 years!" And yet, Bible colleges similarly misrepresent universities as a means of demonizing the "other." The resulting effect is that when a Christian actually enters the university setting who can "play nice with others," it's something of an anomaly.  But surprisingly, it hasn't taken a lot of "bravery." The "attacks" to my faith simply have not materialized that I was taught were lurking around every marble-columned corner. The "monsters" of M. Night Shyamalan's "Village" just are not pouncing like I was trained to expect.

It's a shame that more Christians (that haven't also shed their faith in order to enter academia; thus confirming the fears of the parents sending their kids to Bible college) aren't moving back into the academic arena. Genuine faith has a legitimate voice among the messages of circulating around campus, and the "ivory tower" could use more input from those that didn't leave their piety at the entrance  - like shoes that are left in the lobby so as not to track dirt into the house. All it takes is an willingness to operate within the unique cultural dynamics of academia, which the proudly counter-cultural fundamentalism is ill-equipped to prepare you for. Many evangelicals are willing to do to this for the sake of missionary work. They adopt the language, fashion and many customs of the "culture" they wish in "infiltrate." The result might not be a rash of growing new churches in the target culture, but at least they will have demonstrated that Christians can function in that culture, being friendly and intelligent. Not that I think Christians should approach academia with the "hidden agenda" of converting those they find here; it would be enough just for more Christians to demonstrate they can function here, advancing the research and contributing positively to the education of young people off of the evangelical "reservation."

My experience is proving positive, and I haven't had to shed my faith to get it. I can only imagine that both academia and the Church would be served well by more having my experience also.

Inventing Your Religion

Regarding one's belief and faith, it recently occurred to me that at the philosophical level the choices are twofold: you either are (1) a devout and consistent Atheist - a materialist that considers that nothing exists apart from the matter and energy of the physical universe, or (2) in the most basic manner, accept that an immaterial, spiritual (even divine) reality exists that transcends the material universe. Since many don't want to place themselves firmly under the "Atheist" label, they fall into the "faith" category - willingly accepting that something may exist or be true that cannot be proven through experimentation with matter and energy.

Now if you fall under the "faith" camp, then the options become (again) twofold: to (A) adopt an established faith previously attested in history, which has likely organized itself into a codified believe system (typically represented by an organization as well), or (B) invent your own beliefs that will secure for you (i) positive interaction with the transcendent now (i.e. God, "gods," spirits, etc.) , (ii) a moral code satisfactory to those transcendent forces and works well in the world as it operates, and (iii) a favorable afterlife when the present existence transitions to it at the end of the body's life cycle. When I encounter people desirous to invent their own "religion," I encourage them that the belief system they develop really needs to meet the above criteria, and do it well enough to convince themselves they've arrived at something better than anything previous attested or practiced in history. They'll need to be confident that they're more spiritually attuned, theologically insightful and sensitive to the transcendent than any who have come before. They will need to feel a high degree of certitude regarding the afterlife and how one can be assured a pleasing one. It will help if they have the testimony of a credible witness who has been there and come back to describe it, and how one's "place at the table" is reserved.

If you're not a devout and consistent Atheist, and you eschew an established religion, then the religion you invent for yourself needs to have a way of including others, since it's unlikely you'll enjoy yours much in isolation. After all, how does one expect to relate well to a spouse that you cannot share at least some religious conversation with? Nevertheless, even if one doesn't share their religion with their spouse, the inevitability of our communal nature compels us to seek a group (or form one) in which people of like minds on a matter can gather to affirm pursuit of the common belief. Encouragement is a universal necessity, so people naturally "congregate" to encourage one another to pursue the common cause. All religions, whether attested since ancient times or recently invented mere years ago, develop followers (plural).

Your new religion will likely develop some type of natural hierarchy. Yes, I know, why the need for hierarchical structures? Isn't that the "organized religion" you're trying to escape anyway by inventing your own? Good question. But what will you do if, after a group begins to collect, an attendee seeks to persuade others in the group to think differently than you or in some manner inconsistent with your new belief patterns? Yes, even if the group gathers to affirm that each member has their own beliefs and that none can be the same, inevitably there is bound to eventually enter that one ornery person that loves to debate and hope to win others over to believing like him. Who will be the one to enforce the integrity of the group? Who will say to that person, "Look. Believe as you want, but you can't come here and spend the time upsetting others like that. Either tone it down or you'll have to leave." Who is entrusted with that kind of voice? that kind of (dare I say it) authority? *cringe*

Ok. Let's ask something else. This new religion of yours... is it all in your head, or does it interact with stuff such as symbols, talisman's, charms or fetishes? Does is have any spatial or geographical specificity? Does it involve accessing the vibes emanating from a mountain or field? Will you utilize a structure, a house or a meadow to facilitate your religious practice? ALL religions wind up developing SOME type of praxis. It's a natural human instinct. Don't worry about the money. Your basement could suffice, or you could build an ornate building. It's up to you. It is YOUR religion, after all.

What about times and seasons? Humans have historically regarded time as their most precious possession. It's a non-renewable resource that is heading toward total depletion. Therefore, religions have typically gravitated toward specific times and seasons when their practices were most effective at interacting with spiritual forces, or at least different times and seasons resulted in different nuanced interactions with the divine throughout the day, week and year; yours will be no exception. Whether it be the summer solstice, the winter solstice, a specific day in spring or a moveable date in fall, "high" days naturally will occur as the followers of your system believe they're having particularly meaningful experiences on those days. Oh, and by the way, is this religion more a daytime system or nocturnal system? Yes, I'm serious. You need to think about this. Do the spiritual realities you want to interact with seem to respond better in the dark or in broad daylight? No, it's not dependent upon whether you're a "night owl" or a "morning person."

What procedures or protocols will you invent to prepare adherents of your new religion for interacting with the divine or the spiritual? We all go through our little "rituals" of some type to "get our head in the game" concerning an important activity. Whether you're getting ready for work, going through security at the airport or respectfully witnessing the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, we all interact with rituals here and there that convey the gravity of the occasion, adhere to protocols of approaching authority and get us in our right mind for participating. So what "rites" will you introduce in order to prepare your own mind, facilitate others with you doing the same, and invoking the presence of God, the gods or the spirits for your benefit? Will you standardize this set of "rites" so that others that believe as you do follow them to have the same effect that you do also? Will you right them down? What will THAT book be titled? Who can perform these rites for optimal effect? Anyone? Designated people? Is the designation gender specific? Many religions of the world have long standing reasons for why one is sex is preferred over the other in the context of religious rites? What would yours be?

Ok. We've covered the potential sacred times, sacred space, sacred offices, sacred objects and sacred rites of your new religion. What about a sacred text? Do you plan to codify into writing this belief system you're inventing? What will be the literary genre of this writing? Will it have one or many genres? Are you the sole author, or will you welcome the contributions of like-minded people? If a multi-author work, how will you ensure message continuity? Will you reserve full editorial authority to yourself? By what rationale do you claim such authority? Yes, I know, it's YOUR religion, but remember that it's bound to gain a following if you're serious about this. Will this "sacred text" contain poetry, history, myth, correspondence from you to like-minded people in another city? Does your religion attempt any predictions about the future? Does it express those predictions symbolically or with a high degree of detail? Do you include your rites in the sacred text, or are they contained in a separate companion volume? To what degree must your group of like-minded followers consider this sacred text "authoritative?" What I mean is, do they HAVE to believe, behave and practice according to what is written, or can they pick and choose according to personal preference? Just how "sacred" is this sacred text anyway?

Whew! That's a lot to think about. I don't mean to overwhelm you, but if you're going to invent your own religion, there's a lot to consider. I mean...if indeed you're really serious about this. Some may say that they have their "personal belief system" and "don't like organized religion" merely as a way of avoiding accountability and throwing a spiritual tantrum like some teen that refuses to grow up, but I don't think that's what you're doing. When you say that you have your "personal beliefs," I take you seriously and assume that you want to conscientiously approach the categories of religion we've considered above. If you're going to invent your own religion, there's a lot of work ahead. I don't envy you.

By contrast, I took the comparatively lazy route of simply being a Christian, and belong within that historic stream of Faith. Because I am a Christian, I derive comfort from finding my place in that "tribe," trusting those before me in history regarding the categories discussed here. Does it call for mindless adherence? Far from it, for each generation has to evaluate the extent to which tradition aligns with prescriptions and prohibitions of the sacred text (i.e. The Bible). Since I'm a Christian, the aspects of religion that you will have to invent are all pretty much invented for me already and are well attested in history. I suppose you could decide to take the "easy route" as I have, but I know you're committed to inventing your own religion.

You've sure got your work cut out for you.

Good luck with that.