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.