A Practical Question
Brothers, sisters:
If the preacher during a Methodist worship service manages to squeeze two trinitarian heresies into one sermon, what should someone sitting in the pew do? What is her responsibility as a disciple in that situation?
Take another situation. Say a preacher has proclaimed overt, nasty racism, sexism, something like that. I have to think that if I were sitting in the pew, and the pastor did something like that, I wouldn't be able to just sit there. I'd have to do something. Right?
Or, say the pastor gets up there and starts talking about how all religions are really just various expressions of one underlying faith in the divine being. Now, granted, this is a UMC congregation, not a TEC. You guys don't believe that stuff, you're Christians. So, I'd have to do something, right?
So, what if the pastor--in the same sermon!--says that God has three parts (tri-theism), and that the one God has expressed himself in three ways (modalism), all in the same sermon? Does the pew-sitter who recognizes the problem have a responsibility to do something about it?
Now, I'll lay my cards on the table. Yes, this just happened last Sunday, "Trinity Sunday." No, I didn't make a scene; I did try to correct his heresies, however, during Sunday School. But here's the thing: why is it that--I'm guessing here, and I know that's dangerous--why is it that most of us probably agree that something needs to be done in the first situation, less so in the second, and even less in the third? Does that worry anyone besides me?
Apparently St. Nicholas punched Arius in the face at Nicaea after the heresiarch had declared that there was once when the Son was not; he later apologized, and now... he's a saint! So... maybe...
If the preacher during a Methodist worship service manages to squeeze two trinitarian heresies into one sermon, what should someone sitting in the pew do? What is her responsibility as a disciple in that situation?
Take another situation. Say a preacher has proclaimed overt, nasty racism, sexism, something like that. I have to think that if I were sitting in the pew, and the pastor did something like that, I wouldn't be able to just sit there. I'd have to do something. Right?
Or, say the pastor gets up there and starts talking about how all religions are really just various expressions of one underlying faith in the divine being. Now, granted, this is a UMC congregation, not a TEC. You guys don't believe that stuff, you're Christians. So, I'd have to do something, right?
So, what if the pastor--in the same sermon!--says that God has three parts (tri-theism), and that the one God has expressed himself in three ways (modalism), all in the same sermon? Does the pew-sitter who recognizes the problem have a responsibility to do something about it?
Now, I'll lay my cards on the table. Yes, this just happened last Sunday, "Trinity Sunday." No, I didn't make a scene; I did try to correct his heresies, however, during Sunday School. But here's the thing: why is it that--I'm guessing here, and I know that's dangerous--why is it that most of us probably agree that something needs to be done in the first situation, less so in the second, and even less in the third? Does that worry anyone besides me?
Apparently St. Nicholas punched Arius in the face at Nicaea after the heresiarch had declared that there was once when the Son was not; he later apologized, and now... he's a saint! So... maybe...
4 Comments:
CLARIFICATION:
1 = Trinitarian, 2 = Sexism, Racism, etc., 3 = Unitarianism
Your conclusion sewuence ranks these as highly urgent, less urgent, not at all urgent. But I think the order is changed.
I presume that with respect to your penultimate paragraph's interogative, the order should be 2, 1, 3. That is, we would not at all stand for racism, we'd be kind of miffed about modalism, and we probably wouldn't care about unitarianism.
Is that it, or do I have the wrong end of it?
Two observations:
1. Something needs to be done about all three situations. They are all damaging. Nevertheless, the damage done by overt racism and sexism that goes unchecked is much more difficult to correct than the damage done by misguided Trinitarian teaching if it is not addressed immediately. Only people with trained theological sensitivities will stop going to a church if they hear mistakes in Trinitarian doctrine. But if racism or sexism is preached, people will either get disgusted and leave (and might even swear off Christians altogether), or they will begin to embody those attitudes themselves, further compromising a crucial part of the church's witness. Just to reiterate, I think all three problems need to be corrected; it's just a matter of how. I might compare it to dealing with cancer (Trinitarian problems) vs. dealing with a gaping, gushing wound. Both are deadly and need to be dealt with, but you need to jump all over the latter in a different manner than the former.
2. It's interesting that your pastor seems to hold to both tritheism and modalism (mutually exclusive heresies). At least he's trying to hold to both "threeness" and "oneness"! He's just gone off the deep end in both directions. This makes me think that he doesn't mean to express a heresy; he just doesn't know how to properly express orthodoxy. Someone like this would be a lot easier to correct than someone who resolutely stands on the side of either "threeness" or "oneness."
Tom
To be clear: I meant that (1) most of us would, rightly, feel the need to immediately respond to overt racism (2) less to mushy-gooshy unitarian universalism (3) even less to trinitarian heresy.
Tom, I found your comments very helpful, thank you, I like the medical metaphor. Also, you're spot on in the diagnosis of where the pastor is coming from: he's only an unwitting heretic, he means well.
What still concerns me is that I think that, unlike Tom, many of us assume that #3 is not ultimately as important as #1. If Tom is right, then whether it's a gaping, gushing wound or cancer, it's gonna get us in the end.
The biggest, hardest question of all, then, is how a pastor helps his/her congregation believe in the Holy Trinity. We're not going to solve that one on the blog, but are there any ideas?
Phil,
First, let me respond to the point about the need for urgent action when one hears overt racism/sexism from the pulpit or in some other setting from one to whom shepherding responsibilities are entrusted.
You bring up an excellent example. And I agree that Tom, as usual, points the way for us. However, I think it may be helpful to dig more deeply into your question to some of its presuppositions.
I am increasingly convinced that my sense of urgency when I encounter any of your three examples is symptomatic of my own sin of hubris. And it is also symptomatic of my own unbelief. The adrenaline surge is not of Christ, I believe, but of Adam. It all depends on me, I imply. If I don't intervene in that moment, quickly, before those sitting near me leave their pews, evil will triumph in the time and space that is my destined location of ministry. I think that is most often the honest appraisal of what I am thinking in such instances. God's justice depends on my immediate action. It all depends on me.
That is a very dangerous and faithless mindset to which each of us is vulnerable. We clergy-to-be need each other - we need to hold each other accountable theologically so that we don't unintentionally undo God's work with our good intentions. If we truly believe that we live within God's story that has a movement towards the defeat of death and evil, then perhaps we build stairways to heaven when we give in to our righteous anger.
In short, I question whether what you describe is in fact "reality" or a representation distorted by the hubris to which we are both susceptible. What does your description suggest about your own assumptions about those around you who heard the same words? Were others in the church so unable to recognize racism and sexism that you so easily recognized that your own intervention was necessary? Did others not have the same eyes and ears to see and hear that God has given you? I don’t know the answer, and I suggest that the answer may sometimes be “yes, no one but you or me will have the eyes and ears in that particular moment.” But most of the time, I suspect that God has distributed the gifts of discernment more broadly than we like to think.
I am not suggesting that taking a stand is unnecessary at times. However, I am suggesting that an important fruit of true faith is the gift of patience. Prayer of discernment is necessary before we engage in battle; else we risk fighting a battle that is not God's but our own (I have King David's great sin in mind here). This causes me to appreciate greatly the ethical habit of “overaccepting” as Sam Wells describes it fully in “Improvisation.” I think cultivation of that habit insulates people like me, an insufferable warrior admittedly, from surrendering to the hubris that would otherwise launch me out of me seat in the pew. I think "overaccepting" is the answer to your question about "what to do" in each of your three examples. Of course, that begs the question about the content of "overaccepting" in each instance. But I don't believe we can prescribe that content in advance. We have to commit to the principle and take the risk of executing it wrong.
With regard to your question about teaching the Trinity:
You and I have already argued about our differences with regard to the efficacy of proclamation that precedes incarnation of the Word. You know I am quite skeptical about the notion that intellectual teaching about God's nature in any way fulfills our mandate to proclaim the Gospel unless it is preceded by our concrete participation in the crucified life that receives all others as gift. That is, our lives must manifest the new reality first so that others encounter Christ concretely in us, and then, and only then, does the proclamation of intellectual statements about God's nature have any substance or purpose. Only when we are in the Spirit - indicated by relating to others through Christ - do our words about God become the Word of God. I don’t think our utterance of words from the Bible or liturgy have Gospel power unless spoken “in the Spirit.” And “in the Spirit” implies participation in the new reality that defines the nature of our relation to others in every moment. Words about God are empty if we utter them “out of the Spirit.” I know we disagree on this. But given my premise, it follows that the way to teach others about the Trinity is not at all to talk about it but to live it.
As you know, I am doing an independent study on church planting. In that project, I have gone deeply into cell church efforts in Asia and elsewhere. I am convinced that the way to teach disciples about the Trinity is by inviting them into participation in intimate organic units in which the life of the cell-like community denotes the triune God. The point is that you may be asking the wrong question. It is not, "how do I teach disciples the doctrine of the Trinity?" The question is "how do I lead disciples to live a communion life that is the image of Father, Son, and Spirit?" The answer, I am increasingly convinced, is located somewhere in the constellation that includes cells and Wesleyan-like accountability groups that are outward-focused on evangelism and mission.
If you draw people into such a life, then you gain the credibility to point out how that life corresponds to this abstract depiction of what God has revealed of God's nature to which we give the name, "Trinity." When we live it, the abstraction we use to describe it has a concrete reference that is both of God and points beyond itself to God.
That's my operating theory today, at least.
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