News Flash: I Could Be Wrong

My wife knows that it is sometimes difficult - she'd probably say impossible - to get me to admit that I might be wrong. Granted, I sometimes ham it up a bit when we're discussing something (I love to get a rise out of her), but, truth be told, I have a hard time admitting when I'm wrong. Maybe it's the Scot in me, but I like to plant my feet firmly on an opinion, and take on all comers.

If you look at my first post, you'll notice that I deleted an anonymous comment. I didn't delete it because the poster disagreed with me, but because the person who left it was anonymous. I think the internet provides too much anonymity, and anyone who doesn't have the gumption to leave his name and contact info probably doesn't have much to add to the discussion. After thinking about it, though, I think it might be good to reproduce what he wrote, so that I can respond. Here's what he wrote, in its entirety:

"what your [sic] describing is socialism, not religion"

I presume he's referring to my observation that the modern, Western church looks nothing like the church as described in Acts. As noted in my comments (which were based off a selection of Scripture from Acts 2), the early believers were selling all they had, putting the proceeds into a common good, and distributing as each had need. They were eating together, praying together, and enjoying the good will of the people in general. I simply noted that no one I know of - and I included myself - has ever sold off a dear possession in order to give the proceeds to others. I noted that we - the modern church in the West, that is - severely limit our interaction with each other. We do not hold all things in common, and we don't generally enjoy the good will of the culture at large.

The simplest response I could offer - and the one Mr. Anonymous set himself up for - is this: Your issue isn't with my observation, it's with the book of Acts, and the behavior of the early church. If you have an issue with Scripture, take it up with Scripture. (I'll lay aside my suspicion that Mr. Anonymous has no grasp of political theory, because socialism, particularly as practiced in the modern world, has about as much in common with the behavior of the church in Acts as the Cleveland Browns have to do with winning football games.)

That said, I think another response could be offered, and I'll try to do that as succinctly as I can.

In Steven King's book On Writing, the author advises aspiring writers to "kill your babies." What does he mean? He means that sometimes in the writing process, the author has to be willing to strike out anything and everything that does not further the plot, develop the characters, or add to the overall mission of the story. In other words, no matter how much I might like a particular turn of phrase or foray into beautiful prose, if it doesn't move things along, it has to come out.

It would appear - in light of the dearth of additional commentary he left me - that Mr. Anonymous does not like socialism, and his dislike of socialism is so strong that he cannot bear the thought of the early church acting in any way that is not similar to the "every man for himself" ethos we've come to embrace in modern American culture. Mr. Anonymous may have to kill one of his babies - his dislike of socialism - in order to accept the witness of Scripture: the early church just didn't act like a modern, Western, North American church. Sorry, Charlie.

Mr. Anonymous is not alone. I have very definite, firm political opinions. I have strong opinions about lots of things. I love the Steelers, and can't stand the Browns. I despise large government, and cherish limited federal power. I am suspicious of foreign entanglements, and don't like seeing American soldiers overseas in wars that are not in our direct national interest. I despise Yankee culture, and cherish Southern gentility. I believe abortion is murder most foul. I don't like contemporary worship services; I want my hymnal and a pew. Like Mr. Anonymous, I despise socialism. I have my opinions, and I'm sure you have yours. But if I hold a conservative point of view that I later find to be contrary to Scripture, doesn't the viewpoint have to yield? Wouldn't I have to "kill one of my babies?"

Scripture sometimes has this annoying way of walking up to me and slapping me in the face. For example, when confronted by folks who would describe themselves as "environmentally conscious," I automatically get my hackles up. I believe much of their point of view is based on demonstrably shoddy science. I view much of their agenda as an avenue by which government and its proxies become even more meddlesome in the private lives of its citizens. I get ticked off - so much so, that I view any benign, reasonable conservation or recycling effort with suspicion. I think we should care for our natural resources, but some of this nonsense (especially the pabulum from the UMC's General Board of Church and Society) feels like thinly-veiled Gaea worship.

So, here I was at work today, listening to my iPod, and enjoying a talk from Asbury's worship chapel about the Wesleyan heritage (it was part of a series). The speaker was discussing how, through Christian history, God's creation - all of it - has been systematically diminished in light of His salvation. In Judaic thought (particularly later Judaic thought), the resurrection was all about the body and soul, since the two were inextricably linked (the thought of a soul without a body was impossible on its face). Thus, Paul looks forward to his whole person - body and soul - being raised up incorruptible. As time went on, Neoplatonism took hold (I would add Gnosticism, but I digress), and the material world came to be viewed as evil, or at least of very little account. In the Middle Ages, artists portrayed heaven as some destination in the clouds, away from the New Earth, and its inhabitants as disembodied spirits, without physical form, and unaccompanied by any of the vestiges of life on earth, like plants and animals. Well, what does the Scripture say about that?

My wife and I were reading Genesis 1 last night as part of our devotions, and I was impressed by the beauty, perfection and inherent goodness of God's creation. When God created the earth, the plants, the animals and man, He called it "good." Wesley went deep into the Old Testament and demonstrated that all creation - all of it - is under God's sovereignty and subject to His redemptive plan. We are part of God's creation, and He is going to redeem all of it. All of it. No city up in the clouds, no floating incorporeal through the air. No, I'm going to be resurrected with a new body - a glorious body! - and I am going to witness the redemption of all of God's creation: the earth, the plants, the animals - all of it. It's going to be a big zoo, without the bars, and the concessions are free. A new heaven and a new earth.

Paul said that all of creation is "groaning" for redemption. As Wesleyans, we have always believed that salvation is not limited to a single encounter of God's forgiveness alone. No, it's about the whole person. Wesley's was not a theology of cold, dispassionate detachment from the world around him - his was a dynamic, hands-on, "sleeves-rolled-up" kind of faith that was to encompass the whole man. Our hearts were changed, our behavior was changed, our way of looking and dealing with our fellow man was to change, and our outlook on the world was to change. We - the redeemed - were to be agents of change. Look at the words of Paul in the 12th chapter of Romans:

"Therefore, I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. For through the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think; but to think so as to have sound judgment, as God has allotted to each a measure of faith."

On the personal level, I'm to present my heart, soul and body to God as a sacrifice, as a service of worship. I'm not to conform to the world anymore, but be transformed - changed - by the renewing of my mind. What my mind was like before I met Christ has to give way to what my mind must be like after I met Christ. My haughty opinions must submit to the Lordship of Christ. I'm to be completely and totally converted.

So, in light of what I've pondered today, I admit that I have to kill one of my babies. I was wrong to view every single member of Greenpeace as a tree-worshiping pagan, bent on the destruction of liberty, private property and free enterprise. I may not agree with the more nutty propositions of those on the Left, but I admit that I was wrong to take such an extreme position against those folks who advocate taking care of the world around us. My position was so extreme that I would not listen to any part of their points of view.

I viewed salvation as having to do only with my soul - who cares about my body? I viewed it as having to do only with me - who cares about creation? But as a sinner redeemed by grace, I am not separate from God's creation - I am part of it - and He intends to save it all! Why would I care for the sick or the poor, but not care for the rest of His creation? The least I can do is take care of it all, as an offering of thanks and appreciation to God. I can look after all of His creation, while looking forward to His total, irresistible, imminent and certain salvation. If God cares enough about His creation to completely redeem it all, I should care about it in the here and now.

I've taken much pride and perverse pleasure in cackling and heckling those who are "going green" to "save God's creation." Poking fun at the green crowd has been one of my babies, and perhaps I've been more wrong than right on that issue. So, I'll recycle my cans and try to save energy, and you'll not pass a law forcing me to paint my roof white to delay the effects of man-made global warming. Deal?