As most of you probably know from reading yesterday’s post on my 2008 reading list, or from the nifty Facebook application, Virtual Bookshelf, I’m currently reading Peter Rollins book How (Not) to Speak of God. It’s one of the last emerging church books I plan to read for a little while — as I’ve been stuck in a rut and need to broaden my horizons a little bit (as in reading on my other favorite topic Globalization and our changing world, as well as some fiction I’ve been meaning to get to, especially political thrillers) — but it’s a book that’s making this genre tough to leave behind.

In all actuality, How (Not) to Speak of God, is the first true theology book I’ve read. Some may laugh at the fact I call it a “true” theology book, but a) Brian McLaren says it is, and b) I’m not a seminary student, so anything with some depth and substance to it makes it a theology book in my eyes. Because of it being a “true” theology book, it took a couple readings and re-readings of the first couple chapters before I could begin to comprehend the thoughts that were being presented by Rollins’.

With that said, this book is astounding. Rollins breaks the book into two parts. The first are his theological thoughts. The second part is a compilation of ten “services” with from within his ministry that emulate his theological thoughts. As of this post I have only finished part one, but I wanted to share some excepts and thoughts with you.

One of the things I appreciate most about Rollins writing, is that he uses examples from other cultures and religions. I whole-heartedly believe that Christianity doesn’t have a monopoly on truth. Rather, truth can be discovered in countless other cultures. I’ll provide some specific examples below.

The first thing that really jumped out at me was Rollins’ stressing of the importance of of being transformed by revelation — using a piece of art as an example. It reminded me of the introduction to Rob Bell’s, Velvet Elvis, just on a deeper level.

What is important about revelation is not that we seek to interpret it in the same way but rather that we all love it and are transformed by it. To fail to recognize this would be similar to an art critic saying that what is important when considering a piece of art is that we interpret it correctly rather than loving it and being challenged by it. Indeed, this is what happens when we see various groups and denominations being set up that are founded upon the supposedly ‘correct’ interpretation of revelation. While joining together in groups that share the same Christian tradition has an important role, the problem arises when we claim that we have the right interpretation while all those who disagree with us are ignorant, deluded or sinfully turning their eye away from the clear light of revelation. (pg. 17)

I recently posted a video entitled “Would You” on this blog and at Epinoia Café (where comments were directed), that asked “What if there was no heaven and no hell (so no reward/punishment system), would you still follow Jesus?” Some people interpreted that as me advocating for Universal salvation/reconciliation, which I’m still studying and contemplating through right now, but the true purpose of the question was along the lines of this passage,

If one loses one’s life only because one believes that this is the way to find it, then one gives up nothing; to truly lose one’s life, one must lay down that life without regard to weather or not one finds it. Only a genuine faith can embrace doubt, for such a faith does not act because of a self-interested reason (such as fear of hell or desire for heaven) but acts simply because it must. (pg. 34)

The next quote, for me embodies what “The Church” is supposed to be, and has failed at, at least since the reformation, if not before, and what “The Emerging” movement is all about,

In contrast to the view that evangelism is that which gives an answer for those who are asking, we must have faith to believe that those who seek will find for themselves… If this is true, then the job of the Church is not to provide an answer — for the answer is not a phrase or doctrine — but rather to help encourage the religious question to arise. (pg. 40-41)

In the fifth and final chapter of part one, Rollins writes several examples pitting “empirical truth” against “transforming truth.”

Rollins gives us an example that takes place in World War II era Germany, where one morning some Nazi soldiers knock on our door checking to see if we’re housing any Jews.

In response to this question we have three options: (a) we regretfully say ‘yes’, acknowledging that we are held under a higher moral law which requires that we do not deceive; (b) we say ‘no’, judging that it is the lesser of two evils, a necessary lie required in order to prevent murder; (c) we say ‘no’ and feel happy that we told the truth. (pg. 57)

He goes on to speculate that most contemporary Christians would choose (b).

However, if we take truth to mean any act which positively transforms reality, rather than describes reality, then there is no problem acknowledging that, while denying there are Jews in the house is empirically incorrect, it is true in a religious sense precisely because it protects the innocent. (pg. 57) Emphasis his.

Probably my favorite part so far was the Buddha story found on pg. 61,

However, there are a myriad situations that arise in life which have not been directly faced in the past. These events often require a response which cannot be discerned via reference to our already existing interpretive maps, and instead demanded a step of creative and loving interpretation. For instance, the advances in life-saving technology in the late twentieth century have cast up numerous problems in medical ethics to which no Bible passage can give a definitive answer. When thinking of this Christlike prejudice of love, I am reminded of the Buddhist story in which a disciple plucks up the courage to point out to the Buddha that some of the things he taught were not in the scriptures. In response the Buddha replied, ‘Then put them in.’ After an embarrassed silence the disciple spoke again: ‘May I be so bold as to suggest, sir, that some of the things you teach actually contradict the scriptures?’ To which the Buddha, without hesitation, smiled and said, ‘Then I suggest you take them out.’

Can’t you just see Jesus saying that? Especially now-a-days with all the “rules” and “traditions” that we go through?

Finally, Rollins closes the chapter with the story of the film, Amen (which has moved to number one on my blockbuster queue after his telling of it), in which a priest, living in WWII Germany, wonders if “it would be possible for every Christian in Germany to convert to Judaism in order to stop the horror, for the Nazis couldn’t possibly condemn such a huge number of powerful and socially integrated people at that stage of war” (pg. 63). The idea is obviously rejected by church leaders, and so the priest gives up his religion and beliefs to take up Judaism in protest to the tragedy taking place. “By taking on the Jewish identity he suffers with the persecuted, voluntarily taking his place on the trains that run to Auschwitz” (pg. 63).

For most Christians, the question, ‘Would you die for your beliefs? is the most radical one that can be asked — to which the faithful will answer with a defiant ‘Yes.’ But Amen asks a more radical question, namely, ‘Would you kill your beliefs?’ In other words, would you be prepared to give up your religious tradition in order to affirm that tradition? Can you give up the very thing you would die to protect, not because of something even more powerful, but rather because of another’s suffering? (pg. 63)

Not that I’m comparing myself to a great martyr, like a man who would give up his beliefs to be thrown into a concentration camp… but maybe, there is some similarity between that, and me feeling called to leave the institutional church, so that I can be in a place that can better serve the poor and those God calls me to serve? The belief system I grew up with (the one that said go to church every Sunday and sit quietly and hand over your money), I’ve put aside, because the IC (in general) doesn’t serve the way God calls them to — and much like in Rollins’ example of the movie, where the church tried to plead ignorance to the whole holocaust issue. Much like now with Darfur, the African Aids epidemic, and even in places like New Orleans, let alone the back alley’s of every American town.

So, yeah, that’s where I’m at after reading part one.

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