God Delusion, Part 1: Nominal Christians

I love to read. To those who know me well, this will come as no surprise. I actually have trouble reading just one book at a time. For example, I am currently reading C. S. Lewis's Perelandra, Sinclair Ferguson's Heart For God, and Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion. It's this last book that this post (and probably more than just a few to follow) is about.

Quick summary: it's pretty much the Atheist Manifesto of this decade (published 2006). It's been wildly popular, especially with college-age religious studies majors and anti-right wing (as opposed to just left-wing) journalists, lobbyists, and more. Dawkins first gives his own view of religion and where he stands, then explains the God Hypothesis, focusing on the theistic view, then he gives some arguments for the existence of God, and from what it looks like, the rest of the book is about why those arguments are wrong.

Obviously I'm not reading this book because I like having my particular viewpoints reinforced. There are reasons, though. First and foremost, I think that our beliefs and convictions are better described as leanings and tendencies until they are strengthened by opposition. When we have to defend our views against someone who disagrees with them, we are forced to truly think about and critique what we claim to believe. Does it make sense? Are our beliefs reasonable, or are we buying into what our itching ears love to hear? By looking at this educated, well written attack on religion (which he usually identifies as Christianity), I am forced to articulate, in my head and the margins if nothing else, my own educated, reasoned defense.

A secondary reason that I'm reading this book is that so many people I know are reading it, mostly non-Christians. I want to be able to have an informed discussion with people about the book and its claims on God, Jesus, the Bible, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Atheism, Darwin, Creationism, Einstein, and everything else that he talks about. In a similar vein, there are plenty of nominal Christians out there who read a reasoned attack such as The God Delusion, and because it sounds good to them (it is a well-written book) and because they aren't practiced at reading critically and identifying some of the faulty, unmentioned, underlying assumptions that his arguments are based on, they try and fit the book into their worldview.

Obviously, this jump from Christianity to Atheism (two wildly incompatible worldviews) seems extreme. But, you'll notice, I used the qualifier of "nominal." By that I mean a person who calls themselves a Christian, but lacks firm belief in the basic tenets of Christianity. This begins, in my opinion, with an underlying assumption that the goal of Christianity is to make us into nice, unoffensive people who never cause arguments or ruffle other's feathers. Because of this spreading mentality, more and more people are willing to accept small compromises in the ethos of Christianity in order to avoid a dispute. These Christians lack the courage to say or believe something that culture disagrees with: in short, they think more of the opinions of men than of God. More and more compromises leads to a blend of so many conflicting statements and ideas in a belief structure that it loses any semblance of structure it may have had.

At this point, it is possible to fit anything into a worldview. Thus, Atheism and Christianity become compatible. It sounds like an oxymoron to me, but there are people out there who seriously call themselves Christian Atheists and see nothing wrong with that identification. John Shelby Spong's secular humanism blended with Christian morality (and what I see as Zen Buddhism) combines with Joel Osteen's health and wealth gospel that perverts the promises of scripture and Richard Dawkins's conception of a 'deeply religious non-believer' ("Spiritual, not religious" is an increasingly common self-identification these days) to produce a worldview that sounds great to the non-Christian and retains enough of a Christian terminology and morality (at least in the non-offensive areas) to come off as truly Christian but is completely devoid of the heart of Christianity. Nominal Christians.

I've kinda strayed a little, but that's how these things go. As I read the book I'll post my thoughts and reactions and the rabbit trails that come off of those. If you're up to it, go get the book and read it too. $15 in paperback. Admittedly, it's kind of a selfish request: it's one thing for me to read and wrestle with this stuff on my own, but I covet conversations about this kind of thing. Again, it's only after we've examined, defended, and expressed our beliefs that they truly hold weight for us.

Sunday Hymn - The King of Love My Shepherd Is

This is a less familiar song, and the melody is a little... different, but the words are some of my favorite. I'm working on (for my own personal pleasure) a more singable melody so that I can enjoy the lyrics and the music, and through that, worship God more fully. I think so often we forget that that is the point of worship. We get caught up in what makes us feel worshipful, what we are doing for God, and forget that our focus should be on God and what He has done and is doing and will do. We change, and if our worship is based on our feelings and thoughts, it will be as effective as a gnat standing up to a charging elephant. But if our worship is God-centered, we are able to simultaneously give thanks to our great God, proclaim the truth to others, and remind ourselves of that same truth.

PS. There are some words in here you probably don't know. Be responsible: look them up.

The King of love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never,
I nothing lack if I am His
And He is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow
My ransomed soul He leadeth,
And where the verdant pastures grow,
With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love He sought me,
And on His shoulder gently laid,
And home, rejoicing, brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill
With Thee, dear Lord, beside me;
Thy rod and staff my comfort still,
Thy cross before to guide me.

Thou spread'st a table in my sight;
Thy unction grace bestoweth;
And O what transport of delight
From Thy pure chalice floweth!

And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never;
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house forever.

When to Say When

Pleasure is something that our culture is very concerned with. And whether for better or for worse, that concern imposes itself on all of us. The advertising that surrounds us, the materialism that goes unquestioned, and casual way people look at debt all contribute to and derive from our longing for pleasure. Yet, this obsession with and longing for pleasure is... assumed. We feel like we have a right to pleasure, satisfaction, and personal, usually instant, gratification. Like somehow we've earned it.

C. S. Lewis is the one who started me thinking down this track. I just finished the first of his Space Trilogy, Out of the Silent Planet. In it, Ransom (the protagonist, and a human) is taken against his will to another planet. There, after escaping his captors, he meets a new species of intelligent life. As he learns their language, he begins to investigate the philosophy of this new race. Speaking with Hyoi (the alien friend he first meets), Ransom finds an unusual, and in my opinion, refreshing, view of pleasure. The conversation goes like this:

"But why? Would he want his dinner all day or want to sleep after he had slept? I do not understand." (Hyoi)
"But a dinner comes every day. This love, you say, comes only once while the hross (the alien race) lives?"
"But it takes his whole life. When he is young, he has to look for his mate; and then he has to court her; then he begets young; then he rears them; then he remembers all this, and boils it inside him and makes it into poems and wisdom."
"But the pleasure he must be content only to remember?"
"This is like saying 'My food I must be content to eat.' "
"I do not understand."
"A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing."

I can think of no better example of this than the joy that, as Christians, we are to find in our salvation. It happens at one instant in life, and in that instant, when a soul recognizes the corruption within the flesh, joy at our justification before God in spite of our sin should drive the new Christian to tears of joy. (Side note: It is amazing to me that there are those out there who deny that we live in a fallen world and that we are a species in need of a savior. I can understand that people see and seek salvation in different things, but in a world
where evil is a reality, where murder, rape, abuse, and more are so prevalent that we are seldom moved by report of them, and where death reigns, it is foolishness and a senseless denial of the reality of our condition to suggest that our highest calling is to be nice to people.) This salvation happens once. Christ's work is enough to make us right before God. But our joy in this salvation is made complete as we are sanctified. As we look back and see how we have grown in character, love for Christ, and love for others, we are to be thankful for the work of Christ in our lives and, as in that moment of conversion, overwhelmed with joy. The moment of pleasure ends, and the enjoyment of it continues forever.

This is also illustrated in the second book of the series (I started it this morning), Perelandra. Ransom arrives on a different planet, and within he first few hours, is faced with the challenge of finding food. He finds what a 'gourd' and drinks from it: the pleasure can only be described as other-worldly. Here is Lewis' narrative of what happens after Ransom finishes the first gourd:

"As he let the empty gourd fall from his hand and was about to pluck a second one, it came into his head that he was now neither hungry nor thirsty. And yet to repeat a pleasure so intense and almost so spiritual seemed an obvious thing to do. His reason, or what we commonly take to be reason in our own world, was all in favor of tasting this miracle again; the childlike innocence of fruit, the labours he had undergone, the uncertainty of the future, all seemed to commend the action. Yet something seemed to oppose this 'reason.' It is difficult to suppose that this opposition came from desire, for what desire would turn from so much deliciousness? But for whatever cause, it appeared to him better not to taste it again. Perhaps the experience had been so complete that repetition would be a vulgarity - like asking to hear the same symphony twice in a day."

I don't think that Lewis is saying pleasure is bad. The Father sends the Son to earth because it was His joy to save us. The problem comes when pleasure becomes our god. When our trust in God's provision over our lives becomes so weak that we obsess to the point of distracting anxiety, there is a problem. When, as a car commercial suggests, we have trouble settling for anything less than the 'best', there is a problem. When meditation on the work of the Son and the gift of the Spirit and the plan of the Father does not move us to overwhelming joy, even laughter, it should be a hint to us that we are seeking our joy in something other than the face of the Father. We need to learn to be content in the blessings God has given us, finding joy in the Giver and not the gifts.

Sunday Hymn - In the Shadow of the Glorious Cross

I've found that it is easy for me to get comfortable with what I know and what works for me. Whether it be what I read, the way I operate from day to day, or the meals I cook, familiarity often wins over a new option. This weekend I especially thought about this truth in respect to worship. I have, over the past 3 1/2 years, become familiar with the hymns that we sing at RUF and in church. And there is nothing wrong with that: the songs are deep, the attitude is not self-focused, and the lyrics are taken from scripture, the depths of which are only matched by the vastness of the Spirit.
This is a new song that we sang (and I had the privilege of playing) in church this morning. Like the hymns I've grown so close to, it has depth and speaks truth. God sings over us. God is more than enough for us. Christ is worthy to receive all of our honor and praise. I love this song.
Unfortunately, had our pastor not been the one to pick this, it probably would have gone unnoticed by me. Even if I had heard it, I probably would have listened first to the style of music, not taken time to actually hear the truths that are being proclaimed. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, and this is more a reminder to me than an accusation for anyone else, we should never get too comfortable with the songs, and more generally the patterns, of our lives: God is at work. His truth doesn't change, but there are new ways that it can be expressed. This, I think, is one of them:


In the shadow of the glorious cross,
Compelled by grace to cast my lot,
I'll discard the loss and bear your name:
Forsaking all for your own fame.

Your hymn of grace sung over me,
Abounding forth in glorious streams,
My thirst is quenched by you my Lord,
Sustained am I, redeemed, restored.
Sustained am I, redeemed, restored.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

When death's dark shadow's at my feet,
When I am plagued by unbelief,
You place my hands into your side:
By precious blood identified.
By precious blood identified.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

These crowns I've clenched with fisted hands,
I cast them down before the throne
Of Christ my God, the worthy lamb,
Christ crucified, the great I AM.
Christ crucified, the great I AM.
Christ crucified, the great I AM.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

The Left Foot

So, we're supposed to start things off on the right foot, right? Well, I don't know what the right foot is, at least not for this little slice of cyber-space, but I'm guessing that it isn't what follows. Some might ridicule me for making the inaugural posting on this site one of such unimportant drivel as what will follow, but I stand by my decision. (In all fairness, I'm saying it's the left foot.) For those of you that are still reading (why?), hang onto your hats.

Not 15 minutes ago, I was in my living room, playing my housemate in the greatest game ever invented. By humans. It goes by a little name of Super Smash Brothers. And yes, the 64 edition. I don't need those hyped up GameCube graphics. 64-bit puts food on the table. Anyway. I am Samus. Not 'I play as Samus' or 'I'm really good as Samus.' No no, I am Samus. And my housemate plays Fox. We're playing at the Donkey Kong place (you know, the one with the barrel on the bottom) and he is winning. Computer Jigglypuff was gone ages ago, and Computer Donkey Kong is hanging on by a thread. I pick up the Home Run Bat, and Housemate Fox falls into the barrel. At the bottom right of the platform, CDK is standing at the bottom of the ramp, and I, glorious Samus, am up the slope from him.

I tap towards + A. The anticipation builds. A shining star appears at the sweet spot on the Home Run Bat. A tingle runs down my spine. Donkey Kong raises his hands in the air for a gorilla-style ground-beating. Breath catches in my throat. The barrel (containing Housemate Fox) squishes in anticipation of firing as it slides to the right. I begin to swing forward. DK's hands are at eye level. Fox's head appears from the barrel.

Time slows down.

I connect! Donkey Kong's arms never reach the ground. Fox never gets a chance to land. All that is left on our 8-foot diagonal projection screen is Samus, magnificently performing the perfect follow through, two diminishing trails of smoke leading off the screen and into the heavens. I, Samus, rock.