VE Part 2. Repainting and Luther

Rob Bell has an interesting section in his introduction which follows:

Around 500 years ago, a man named Martin Luther raised a whole series of questions about the painting the church was presenting to the world. He insisted that God's grace could not be purchased with money or good deeds. He wanted everybody to have their own copy of the Bible in a language they could read. He argued that everyone had a divine calling on their lives to serve God, not just priests who had jobs in churches. This concept was revolutionary for the church at that time. He was articulating earth-shattering ideas for his listeners. And they heard him. And something big, something historic, happened. Things changed. Thousands of people connected with God in ways they hadn't before.

But that wasn't the end of it. Luther was taking his place in a long line of people who never stopped rethinking and repainting the faith. Shedding unnecessary layers and at the same time rediscovering essentials that had been lost. Luther's work was part of what came to be called the Reformation. Because of this movement, the churches he was speaking against went through their own process of rethinking and repainting, making significant changes as a result.

And this process hasn't stopped.

It can't.

Rob Bell's view of Christianity is one of repainting and rethinking. A process he further refers to as "exploring", "shaping", "forming", and "bringing in new perspectives". I agree that Christianity is in constant change -- change because people change, times change, perspectives change. Old generations die and new generations take their place. In this regard, Christianity is no different than cultures, governments, and societies: they all, by virtue of being human institutions, change.

The anecdote that Bell is referring to however, is not the general constant change of humanity, but rather a disruptive, violent event. To borrow a term from evolutionists, the "punctuated" in the equillibrium. And while the anecdote is accurate, it is incomplete: wars were fought, people gave their lives, and harsh accusations (antichrist, anyone?) were made. This was not a discussion on contemporary vs. traditional worship service, nor a planning session on how to be more relevant in the community. This was a battle for the definition of what Christianity was. Repainting is a woefully inadequate term. Bell is right to use the words "revolutionary" and "earth-shattering", but they apply to more than just concepts and ideas.

Secondly, Bell doesn't go into any depth with the topic of heresy. Luther was not exploring and recreating with the full blessing of the church. Eventually for his troubles, Luther was excommunicated and declared anathema. Luther wasn't the first, either -- the early church dealt with Arianism (briefly: denying the divinity of Jesus) and Gnosticism, labeling these as heresies, and not orthodox belief. This begs the question: are all paintings good? The Apostle Peter has a lengthy description of false teachers and their ultimate end in 2 Peter 2. Clearly, the Bible does not look at all paintings being equal. So it's not enough to paint, the painting has to be "right", and this is where art and Christianity diverge. Art isn't right or wrong. It just is. It can be good or bad, but that's a subjective matter of taste. Christianity is not about taste, but of truth. Bad art doesn't go to hell.

So if all repaintings of the faith aren't good, at least they can all get along, right? Maybe some of them should, but the Bible clearly states that some of them shouldn't. This reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from Fiddler on the Roof:

He's right and he's right?

They can't both be right.

You know, you are also right.

God has a lot to say about unity amongst believers, but also has no compuction calling false teachers what they are. To me, Christianity is not so much an exercise in synthesis as analysis and application. While analysis and application require a synthesis of their own, note that it is always focused around something that already exists. Critiquing a book is a creative endeavor, but it's not the same as writing a book. There is always a reference, something to compare it to. And the critique can always be compared to the original source -- just because it's a critique doesn't mean it's correct or superior to the original work. And this is where Bell and I diverge, and where I emasculate his meaning of repainting. Repainting to me is primarily the analysis/application, a poring over of the ultimate work that has been done, and secondly studying those who have been good students.

New perspectives are an unavoidable side-effect of being new organisms, each in a different time and place. And whereas I embrace the existence of perspective (I don't really see how you can't), I'm also critical to what it truly is: there's plenty of synthesis masquerading as perspective.

VE Part 1

After reading Bell's introduction over again, I am struck by the fact that writing about religion or philosophy (or the philosophy of religion!) is a difficult thing. It's difficult for two reasons:

1. Foundational truths have to be established.
2. Words have to be defined.

I say this because readers aren't tabula rasa. (sidenote: I suppose one can argue that at we begin that way, but you'd be hard-pressed to prove that by the time you're reading a book about religion this would be the case.) As such, the truths are either those to be universally understood within the tradition of the philosophy (e.g. presuppositional or axiomatic) or they have to be introduced and explained carefully. The same goes for words: either the meanings are agreed upon, or they are rigorously defined. Bell, in his introduction does neither.

The introduction is literally peppered with assumptions and undefined words. To paraphrase a few:

• Art, as a practice, has to continue evolving (p.10)
• People instinctively realize that art must continue evolving (p.10)
• Christians have the same understanding regarding their religion (p.10)
• For Christians, the *point* is to live in harmony with God and man. (p.10)
• The "Christian faith tradition" has had change and growth. (p.11)
• Jesus took part in the change/growth by calling for a rethinking (p.11)
• This change/growth process is endless (p.11)
• God created us to live in a particular fashion (p.11)
• Christians should live with "great passion and conviction" and be "open and flexible" (p.11)

I could go on, but these three(!) paragraphs are indicative of his style, that is to say, conversational rather than rigorous and exhaustive. The problem with this is that it is difficult to follow his line of thought to his conclusions when there's so much room for disagreement in his assertions:

• What if I don't agree that art must evolve? I can or cannot. It may or may not. But has to?
• What if I don't think that people instinctively realize this (if I agreed with the original statement in the first place)?
• What if all Christians don't have the same understanding of change and transformation regarding their faith?
• What if I disagree about the assumptions of the Christian faith (the necessity of change, people created for a purpose, etc.)?

As for definitions, what do terms like "exploring", "new perspectives", "change", "growth", "transformation", "rethink", "flexible" mean, much less imply?

To avoid these difficulties and confusion, I am introducing a framework by which I will evaluate the rest of the book in which I assume the Bible as basis of accuracy of any statement -- a traditional orthodox Christian position.