Blue Like Jazz, Chapter 11

First, Happy New Years. You can see that my wife and I have no life, because I am blogging on New Year's Eve. But, it could be worse. I could be reading my blog on the evening of New Year's Eve ;-).

Chapter 11 is titled "Confession." It is an interesting chapter, to say the least. In it, Miller defines "Christian spirituality" for us. In my opinion, Miller hijacked the term Christianity to mean something that it does not mean. He tells us, "Stop ten people on the street and ask them what they think of when they hear the word Christianity, and they will give you ten different answers." I'm sorry, but in all likelihood, the ten people you stop on the street probably are not going to be Christians either. Should we use the ignorance of a lost world to dismiss using a term rich with both diversity and history?

Sure, many people in the past have had horrible experiences with those who claim to be ambassadors of "Christianity", but that doesn't mean we should abandon the term Christianity. In fact, when we define the term correctly, we must face and address the sinful parts of our faith's history.

For me, the beginning of sharing my faith with people began by throwing out Christianity and embracing Christian spirituality, a nonpolitical mysterious system that can be experienced but not explained. Christianity, unlike Christian spirituality, was not a term that excited me. And I could not in good conscious tell a friend about a faith that didn't excite me. I couldn't share something I wasn't experiencing. And I wasn't experiencing Christianity...It felt like math, a system of rights and wrongs and political beliefs, but it wasn't mysterious; it wasn't God reaching out of heaven to do wonderful things in my life... [Page 115-116]

If Christian spirituality "can...not be explained", then why write a 240 page book about it? I couldn't, in good conscious, tell a friend about a faith I couldn't explain, either. There are aspects of the Christian life that are subjective to one's own experience. If there is no experience of conversion, it makes no sense to say that conversion took place. Every good and honest theologian has experienced the Christian life, the difficulties and the blessings. There is no feeling in the world like that of knowing that you have been redeemed from your sin and that you stand approved and love in the sight of God. Before that feeling, there must be a inward experience of conviction, remorse, and dread due to sin, "Turn your wrath from me, a sinner." (Luke 18:13)

But, a good theology is not rooted in experience, rather it is meant to explain the experiences of the Christian life--to define what experiences are of God and which are not. To Miller, experience defines truth. Biblically, truth should define and qualify experience. To me, Miller is an intellectual and attempts to portray himself as an intellectual, but he embraces contradiction at many turns. We wants to tell his friends about an unexplainable faith. Belief is something that chooses us and something we choose. He tries to make fashionable a belief that is, by nature and his own admission, unfashionable. This is either anti-intellectualism or doublespeak to please all of his readers.

For the rest of the chapter, Don tells us of the time when he and his friends built a confession booth on Reed's campus during Ren Fayre, a festival in which the campus is shut down and the students party to their hearts' content. Anything goes, too. Sex, drugs, binge drinking, all sorts of stuff. The confession booth is not what you may think, though. The booth is for Miller and his friends to confess the sins of the church to the students at Reed. An interesting idea, but it bothers me that he feels obligated to apologize on behalf of the Christian faith in order to share his faith. I understand the need to break the ice, but this is not the way. Nowhere in the New Testament do you see preachers and evangelists apologizing on behalf of those Jews who got things wrong about the Messiah. This approach to win converts is to make the unbeliever feel good about the Christian faith, not to make unbeliever aware of his sin and understand his need for God's provision.

Blue Like Jazz, Chapters 9 and 10

Chapter 9 is titled "Change." In this chapter, Miller discusses his transformation from a fundamentalist variety of Christianity to one that is more "personal" and "authentic"--the time in which he made his true commitment to Jesus Christ. Miller paints a nice picture with his words concerning his experience in the Grand Canyon, under the vast amounts of stars, making his peace with God.

However, the interesting part for me came at the end of the chapter.

As I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there [beyond the stars in the sky] somewhere...this time I felt it, I realized it, the way a person realizes that they are hungry or thirsty. The knowledge of God seeped out of my brain and into my heart. I imagined Him looking down to this earth, half angry because his beloved mankind had cheated on Him, had committed adultery, and yet hopelessly in love with her, drunk with love for her...

...I am wanted by God. He is wanting to preserve me...

To describe God as "drunk with love" more than bothers me. To me, this sentiment makes God seem emotionally out of control. God's actions are not driven by emotion. If this is Miller's "knowledge of God", then He doesn't know the God of the Bible very well. God is not "in love" with creation. Matter a fact, God is more than "half-angry"; He is wrathful. To say that God is "in love" transforms God's love from something that is expressed in selfless action to that which is expressed in mere romantic feelings. Such romanticism may make the reader have warm fuzzies, but it does not express God's hostility, wrath, and judgment towards sin. A depraved sinner has little problem believing in a God who overlooks sin, but only those sinners convicted by God's grace accept a God whose holy (a word yet to be discussed by Miller) love still demands a propitiation for sin...

Miller opens chapter 10 like this:

My most recent faith struggle is not one of intellect. I really don't do that anymore. Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don't believe in God and they can prove He doesn't exist, and some other guys who do believe in God and they can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now it's about who is smarter, and honestly I don't care.

This is one of the most arrogant and judgmental statements in the entirety of the book (besides the consistent stabs at Republicans). The now all-wise Miller dismisses--in a mere half-paragraph--the need of a field of study that generations of brilliant Christians have devoted their entire lives to: apologetics. Augustine, Anselm, Pascal, Luther, Calvin, C. S. Lewis, Van Til, Clark, Ravi Zacharias (a name mentioned favorably by Miller later in the book), and a host of others all have wasted their mental capacities in demonstrating that they are smarter than the atheists. Of course they had no genuine devotion of Christ--as least not a strong as Miller's.

Honestly, I wanted to stop the book review at this point. This run-on sentence is completely irresponsible and hypocritical--the smugness of the tone implied that he was smarter than those whom he was critiquing.

...I realized that believing in God is much like falling in love as it is like making a decision. Love is both something that happens to you and something you decide upon.

This is the definition of synergism without using theological terms. There are many astute theologians (Norman Geisler, for example) that are synergists; they believe that conversion is the result of a cooperation of the human will with the divine. If the human will does not cooperate, there is no conversion. I am a monergist; I hold that the human will cannot cooperate with the divine influence, unless the divine manifests a change within the obstinate heart of the human being. Ultimately, conversion is the result of God's providential influence over the heart of the sinner--not the sinner's cooperation.

According to Miller, belief is something that "happens to you" [the divine will] and something "you decide upon" [the human will]. To justify this theology, Miller cites no Scripture, no astute theologian; only anecdotal evidence based solely in his experience as a Christian.

Can you imagine if Christians actually believed that God was trying to rescue them from the pit of their own self-addiction? Can you imagine? Can you imagine what Americans would do if they understood over half of the world was living in poverty? Do you think it would change they way they live, the products they purchase, and the politicians they elect? [Page 106-107]

God is not trying to rescue us from "the pit our own self-addiction." God does not try to do anything--He does all He intends to do (Isaiah 46:10). He does not need us to cooperate in order to rescue us, and when He does rescue us, He saves us from the pits of a fiery and eternal hell!

Don, I forgive you for the shameless liberal plug in the second half of this excerpt--even though it is a non-sequitur.

The problem with Christian belief--I mean real Christian belief, the belief that there is a God and a devil and a heaven and a hell--is that it is not a fashionable thing to believe. [Page 107]

Miller then goes on to criticize the attempts of the church to make Christian belief to seem cool--which to me completely undermines a purpose of this book. The whole book is an attempt to make Christianity seem more appealing to his audience--to make it seem exciting, cool, and something that agrees with the political left. Yet again, Miller comes off as a hypocritical to me, and if I were an unbeliever, I would not only think this repackaged Christianity as uncool, but dishonest as well. Kudos on finally mentioning hell, though. It's about time.

All great Christian leaders are simple thinkers. Andrew [an activist friend of his who is known for protesting conservative politics] doesn't cloak his altruism in a trickle-down economic theory that allows him to spend fifty dollars on a round of golf to feed the economy and provide jobs for the poor. He actually believes that when Jesus says to feed the poor, He means that you should do this directly.

More conservative caricatures. Most evangelical Christians who are politically conservative, that loathsome Religious Right, are so because of moral issues like abortion, euthanasia, and gay-marriage--not for economical issues. Most of them don't even know what trickle-down economic theory is. Some do. However, contrary to Miller's stereotype, when compared to any demographic in the nation, this group gives more in direct charitable contributions to churches and organizations that give to the poor--both in numbers and percentages of annual income. They are extremely generous on the whole--save the prosperity theologians. Honestly, these subtle condemnations of Republican Christians are too numerous--and I needed to get this off my chest. I promise to stick to theology from now on.

From here Miller makes some great points: Miller criticizes postmodernity (although he seems a bit post-modern in his theology). It's "another tool of Satan to get people to be passionate about nothing." Agreed. On the last page of Chapter 10, Miller tells us, "Jesus is the most important figure in history, and the gospel is the most powerful force in the universe." Again, agreed. However, what is the gospel? What gives the gospel it's power? These questions Miller has not clearly answered.

James White Answered One of my Questions...

I am honored to have James White, a well known Christian apologist and Reformed theologian, answer a question I submitted to him on his radio broadcast. Here is a link to the recording, and he answers my question starting at 18:43. (18 min and 33 seconds).

As I was reading Matthew, I came across this in 11:20-23:

20 Then He began to rebuke the cities in which most of His mighty works had been done, because they did not repent: 21 "Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. 22 But I say to you, it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you. 23 And you, Capernaum, who are exalted to heaven, will be brought down to Hades; for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. 24 But I say to you that it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for you."

Those of you who read my blog on a regular basis know that I am Reformed in my theology, and have been so since 2002. I believe that the whole counsel of Scripture supports the Calvinist position, and I have heard few credible arguments against it--and no "unanswerable" ones.

However, there are times that I come across verses that seem to support the opposing position. The first "point" of Calvinism is Total Depravity, which describes humankind as completely fallen and depraved in nature. His inclination is always toward sin and rebellion, and because of this nature, man has not the ability to choose God on his own. Left to his own devices and given a choice between himself, an idol, or God, God would never be his choice.

I noticed that an implication could be drawn from the passage above that undermine the doctrine of Total Depravity. So I sent James White this email:

As a Calvinist, I have a question about Matthew 11:23..[Citation of the Verse]...and its implication on Reformed Theology, particularly Total Depravity. I've heard Reformed preachers say that it shows that God does not intend for all to be saved, which I agree with, I see that it demonstrates that God chose not to show them such mighty works and not give them the opportunity to repent.

However, if an opponent of Reformed theology were to use this verse in connection to Total Depravity--not necessarily God's election--and argue the verse in this manner:

"This verse implies that man is not totally depraved, for Jesus even said that if the people of Sodom would have seen his works, they would have believed--implying that they have the ability to believe."

How would you respond?

I haven't personally recieved this objection, but I as I was reading this verse, I noticed that it could be taken in such a way.

Thanks.

Brent Railey, Baton Rouge, LA

Dr. White's response was quite lengthy, about 7 minutes, and it was quite good. It was the approach I would have taken with my deficient ability to analyze the Greek, and the approach is called the Analogy of Faith--let Scripture interpret Scripture. No Scripture should ever be interpreted in isolation to a point that it is contrary to the general teaching of the Bible. Essentially, the opponent has tried to unpack the assumptions behind Jesus' words, and has not done a good job of it.

I know that there aren't cookie cutter answers for every Arminian verse in the Bible, and I wasn't looking for one. I only wanted to see if I was overlooking something obvoius in the text. The overall concern of the text is the proclamation of judgment. Christ makes a comparison of the Jewish cities to those of Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom, and Christ deemed it important to tell them that those cities would have repented had they seen Christ's works. Hence, because the Jews were more hardened, they face harsher judgment.

The works of Christ are not the works of a mere man--they are the work of God. Christ said that it would have taken a work of God to penetrate the hearts of those in Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom and cause them to repent. Without them, they obviously didn't repent. Hence, there is no implied ability in this text, or else Christ would have said "some did believe all on their own." In fact, there is an equal, if not a heavier, implication that it would have required a work on God's part to cause those in Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom to repent.

Even if the above implication [that man has the ability to repent] were true, the opposing postion has not gained any ground on this passage. If God intends and desires all to be saved, why didn't God show Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom his mighty works?

Why "Seeker Sensitive" Does Not Work...

...If by work one means eternal accomplishment. Yeah, it might draw in fantastic crowds and fill the heart with warm fuzzy wuzzies, but "seeker sensitive" pragmatism fails on one of its primary assumptions: the seeker knows his true needs.

Modern day seeker sensitive practices can trace some roots back the pragmatic revivalist movement that began in the 1800s, pioneered by a heretic named Charles Finney.

On this post at www.oldtruth.com, Jim cites Ichabod Spencer's (a contemporary to the mid 1800s) comments on the revivalist movement. My favorite part:

It is better to trouble his conscience, than to please his heart. A convicted sinner is the last person in the world to judge justly, in regard to the kind of instruction he needs. He will seize error more readily than truth, and if his tastes are consulted, his soul will be endangered. In consulting such tastes lies the cunning art deceivers, who lead crowds to admire them, and run after them, and talk of them, while they care not for the truth, "deceiving and being deceived."

Decisions Always Have Consequences

A couple of years ago, I was listening to a radio program on a New Orleans radio station (it could have been a syndicated show) featuring a guest "relationship expert." On this show, a young lady called in seeking advice in her current relationship. She was cohabitating with a man and she wanted to marry him, but he kept refusing. This "relationship expert's" advice was to "get pregnant."

I was completely shocked at the selfishness of this advice. My first thought was, what if that doesn't work, then she is stuck pregnant and alone--and now there are three people involved in the dilemma, not just two. What is she supposed to do, abort? To use a pregnancy to manipulate another person to commit to a relationship is beyond selfish--it foolish depravity without the slightest foresight of the consequences to all those who would be involved.

Last year, my step-brother, who is truly a compassionate liberal seeking to better society through noble causes, asked my advice in an unusual circumstance. He and his wife wanted to adopt an African-American baby, and our shared family was not to excited about that. When he called, he seemed intent on doing it despite the prejudices of our family, simply because he and his wife wanted a child and they wanted to make a statement to both family and society. While I agreed that the cause is noble and such prejudices shouldn't exist, I appealed to the child's perspective. The prejudices do exist and will bring unusual difficulties to parenting that wouldn't otherwise exist. I asked my step-brother if he was prepared to handle the difficulties in raising a black child being white parents, to answer the questions, to comfort the child when he will be teased for having "white parents." I asked if they were prepared to help this child in his or her impending identity crisis, being a black raised by white parents of a wholly different culture with the likelihood of isolation by those of his own race. I noted that the child does not have a choice in participating in my step-brother's cause. I also said that despite our family's prejudices, this child will become a part of it, and he would be choosing for that child a life of great familial tensions that would also not exist if the child were not black.

Unlike the foolish "relationship expert" above, out of compassion, my step-brother decided not to go through with the adoption and place a child in a preventable and difficult circumstance.

Today, I read a great article on the Washington Post (found through this post at Slice of Laodicea). It shows the incredible lack of foresight on the part of the feminist movement in intentional single motherhood. It is quite touching and a great find, and it show how selfish people can be when they consider having children, forgetting to consider the cost of their decision to conceive or adopt on the child. We are called to procreate, if able to do so--but we are also called to sacrifice our own selfishness in considering the prospect of children.

Good Article on Emergent Movement

Dr. John MacArthur has begun a series called "Brian McLaren and the Clarity of Scripture". In this article, Dr. MacArthur discusses McLaren's hesitancy to make any theological assertion with any certainty--which implies that he does not believe the Scripture to be clear in revealing God's nature and purposes.

For those of you who have heard of the emergent movement and have questions about it, this is a good starting point.

To deny the clarity of Scripture (by criticizing those who are certain in their beliefs about God), is to undo one of the principal arguments of the Protestant Reformation. If it were not for the Reformers, such as Luther and Calvin, we would not have translations of the Bible in our own language to read for ourselves. Before the Reformation, the Catholic Church held that biblical interpretation could only be done by the clergy, it did not belong in the hands of the laity. They never translated the Scriptures out of Latin to the languages of their consituency--and never let them read it for themselves.

Luther and many, many other Reformers held that the Scriptures, by the inward dwelling of the Holy Spirit, are clear to all believers, and it was the believer's responsibility--if he could read--to search the Scriptures for themselves. Hence their drive the translate the Scriptures into the language of the people...all of it driven by a dogmatic conviction of the perspecuity of God's Word.

Blue Like Jazz, Chapters 6 - 8

The title of chapter 6 is "Redemption." I was hoping for some discussion of the theology of Redemption (I know this is not a theology book, but even in devotional and inspirational reads, theological concepts are dealt with on a consistent basis). One would think a chapter titled "Redemption" would include a discussion of the purchase that took place at Calvary, but Miller doesn't discuss it at all. It wasn't his intention: The chapter began with the experience of redemption, but never discussed its mechanics, and ended with the struggle with sin for the believer.

Some of the content was good. I loved the honesty about the struggle of sin after conversion, and I appreciated his candid discussion of the particular vices with which he struggled. Conversion does not make the believer sinless. In fact, it amplifies the struggle to level unknown before. Before conversion, the new believer was unaware as to how sinful he truly was. After conversion, God's holy love reveals to us the innermost depths of our sin for the rest of our life. It can be most despairing, to say the least, in the midst of such struggle with sin.

On page 60, Don tells us, "Joy is a temporal thing. Its brief capacity, as reference, gives it its pleasure." Biblical joy is never meant to be a temporal thing, for it rests in the grace and everlasting promises of God to his creatures. Moreover, Miller seems define every Christian experience in merely subjective and emotional terms. Faith is "something we feel." Joy is compared to a new couple "feeling" in love.

The closing paragraph of chapter 6 is one that I empathized with:

My answer to this dilemma [of loving to do sinful things] was self-discipline. I figured that I could just make myself do good things, think good thought about other people, but that was no easier than walking up to a complete stranger and falling in love with them. I could go through the motions for a while, but sooner or later my heart would testify to its true love: darkness. Then I would get up and try again. The cycle was dehumanizing.

This was a nice a segue into the next chapter [7], titled "Grace." At the beginning of this chapter, Don discusses his experience as a "fundamentalist." Then he discusses the experience of his pastor's similar experience. This is the first time that Miller mentions the death of Christ for the forgiveness of sins. [Page 82] It was mentioned during Miller's telling of his pastor's conversion experience--but it was mentioned as a part of the story with no explanation as to its necessity. From this point on, I get a confusing message as to what the grace of God is. Miller does not describe God's grace as necessary for conversion, and he never describes grace in terms of our complete unworthiness of it. Although he does asks himself, "Who am I to think myself above God's charity?" [Page 85], not once does he say that he is completely undeserving of God's charity. He does imply that it can't be earned, but that is something entirely different than saying that man deserves the opposite of charity and love: condemnation.

On the final page of the chapter, we get an interesting message from Miller as to what enables us to love God.

...Rick loves God because he accepts God's unconditional love first.

Rick says that I will love God because he first loved me. I will obey God because I love God. But if I cannot accept God's love, I cannot love Him in return, and I cannot obey him...The ability to accept God's unconditional grace and ferocious love is all the fuel we need to obey Him in return...God woos us with kindness, He changes our character with the passion of His love.

From whence does this ability to accept God' grace and love come? Is it something within the capacity of fallen humanity to do? In reference to Ephesians 2:1-10, Can the dead in sin raise themselves to life? From this, I must assume that Miller thinks that man must enable himself to love God by accepting the free gift of grace. However, biblically speaking, the acceptance of grace by faith is a part to the grace itself. Apart from God's calling, we could neither experience nor desire his grace.

Let me clarify: Is my ability to truly love and obey God contingent upon my ability to accept God's grace? Or, is my ability to accept, love, and obey wholly dependent on the grace of God in which He tames my rebellious heart even when I would not come. In Miller's theology, God apparently cannot change our character unless we let Him. Biblically, God must change our character for us to even trust Him.

Miller is correct in saying that our ability to obey God is wholly dependent on the grace of God--Miller is wrong in saying that accepting God's love is what grants this grace. In fact, accepting God's love is an act of obedience itself, so how can we do it apart from God's grace?

In chapter 8, Miller makes some of the strongest points of the book insofar--and he makes one of his strongest theological assertions yet. He discuss the Christian tendency to use God for their own ends and egos--instead of serving Him for his purposes. In a story in which he dialogues with Moses, Miller says this:

"Don," Moses responds, "...I want you to understand that God has never been nor ever will be invented. He is not a product of any sort of imagination. He does not obey trends. And God let us out of Egypt because you people cried out to Him. He was answering your prayers because He is a God of compassion. He could have left you to Satan. Don't complain about the way God answers your prayers....Your problem is no that God is not fulfilling, your problem is that you are spoiled." [Page 92]

Amen. Then we come to this:

...God is not here to worship me, to mold Himself into something that will help me fulfill my level of comfort.

Not much to more I could say. I only hope this is what Miller actually practices throughout the rest of the book, for the god he has presented so far is a god more of human imagination than revelation.

Update on Recent Events...

I will continue the Blue Like Jazz discussion this week. As for now, I am guest blogging with Jim B. of www.oldtruth.com discussing Michael Bronson's work on "Selective Salvation" at www.biblehelp.org. Here is the blog: http://nobiblehelp-org.blogspot.com/.

Also, my birthday is on Friday...I will be twe--well I'll be a year older ;-).