Monday, August 29, 2005

God Behind Barbed Wire
How a Nazi-soldier-turned-theologian found hope.
by Philip Yancey | posted 08/29/2005 09:00 a.m.


On a recent visit to Virginia I met one of my heroes: Jürgen Moltmann. I have plowed through almost a dozen of his books, and to my surprise, the German theologian in person exuded a charm and sense of humor that belie his scholarly works.

Moltmann was planning on a career in quantum physics until he was drafted at age 18 at the height of the Second World War. Assigned to anti-aircraft batteries in Hamburg, he saw compatriots incinerated in the fire-bombings there. The question "Why did I survive?" haunted him.

After surrendering to the British, the young soldier spent the next three years in prison camps in Belgium, Scotland, and England. When Hitler's empire imploded, exposing the moral rot at the center of the Third Reich, Moltmann saw how other German prisoners "collapsed inwardly, how they gave up all hope, sickening for the lack of it, some of them dying." As he learned the truth about the Nazis, Moltmann felt an inconsolable grief about life, "weighed down by the somber burden of a guilt which could never be paid off."

Moltmann had no Christian background. He had brought two books with him into battle—Goethe's poems and the works of Nietzsche—neither of which nourished much hope. But an American chaplain gave him an Army-issue New Testament and Psalms, signed by President Roosevelt. "If I make my bed in hell, behold thou art there," the prisoner read. Could God be present in that dark place? As he read on, Moltmann found words that perfectly captured his feelings of desolation. He became convinced that God "was present even behind the barbed wire—no, most of all behind the barbed wire."

Moltmann also found something new in the Psalms: hope. Walking the perimeter of the barbed wire at night for exercise, he would circle a small hill in the center of the camp on which stood a hut that served as a chapel. That hut became for him a symbol of God's presence in the midst of suffering.

Later Moltmann was transferred to Norton Camp, an educational camp in England run by the YMCA. The local population welcomed the German prisoners, bringing them homemade food, teaching them Christian doctrine, and never adding to the burden of guilt the prisoners felt over Nazi atrocities. (Hearing Moltmann's fond recollection of those days—"they treated me better than the German army"—I could not help drawing the contrast to Guantánamo Bay and Abu Ghraib, where we are sowing seeds of hatred that will bear sour fruit for generations.)

Upon release, Moltmann began to articulate his theology of hope. We exist in a state of contradiction between the Cross and the Resurrection. Surrounded by decay, we nonetheless hope for restoration, a hope illuminated by the "foreglow" of Christ's resurrection. Faith in that glorious future can transform the present—just as Moltmann's own hope of eventual release from prison camp transformed his daily experience there.

Through all of Moltmann's dense theological works run two themes: God's presence with us in our suffering and God's promise of a perfected future. If Jesus had lived in Europe during the Third Reich, Moltmann noted, he likely would have been branded like other Jews and shipped to the gas chambers. In Jesus, we have definitive proof that God suffers with us, as Moltmann explains in The Crucified God. (During the war in El Salvador, someone sent Moltmann a picture of one of six Jesuits murdered by a death squad, and next to the body in a pool of blood lay the Spanish edition, El Dios Crucificado.)

At the same time, Jesus gives a foretaste of a future time when earth will be restored to God's original design. Easter is the beginning of the "laughter of the redeemed … God's protest against death." A person without faith may assume from the suffering on this planet that God is neither all-good nor all-powerful. Faith allows us to believe that God is not satisfied with this world either, and intends to make all things new.

Only at Christ's Second Coming will the kingdom of God take shape in all its fullness. In the meantime, we establish settlements of that kingdom, always glancing back to the Gospels for a template. Moltmann notes that the phrase "Day of the Lord" in the Old Testament inspired fear, but in the New Testament it inspires hope, because those authors have come to know and trust the Lord whose Day it is.

In a single sentence Jürgen Moltmann expresses the great span from Good Friday to Easter. It is, in fact, a summary of human history, past, present, and future: "God weeps with us so that we may someday laugh with him."

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Jaci Velasquez Divorced
Married less than two years, Christian music superstar says "the painful truth is that our marriage didn't work out."
By Mark Moring | posted 08/22/05


Less than two years after her 2003 wedding made the news, Christian/Latin music superstar Jaci Velasquez's marriage has ended in divorce.

Velasquez and Indiana native Darren Potuck were married on August 16, 2003, in Franklin, Tennessee. But their marriage later "took a turn," Velasquez told Christian Music Today in an exclusive statement.

"When my husband and I started out as newlyweds, we were like all newlyweds, wanting that dream marriage," Velasquez said. "Somehow, things took a turn and we have ended up in divorce."

Velasquez did not elaborate on the reasons for the divorce.

A Word Records spokesman said Velasquez and Potuck had worked to save their marriage, and Velasquez alluded to that in her statement.

"I sought counseling," said the 25-year-old singer, "but the painful truth is that our marriage didn't work out. I've had such a difficult time with this. My heart hurt so badly that I felt like I wanted to crawl under a rock and just die. I can't say that I have ever felt such pain before. My heart literally felt like it was breaking in half."

Velasquez referenced "Lay It Down," the second radio single from her new album, Beauty Has Grace, to describe what she's now experiencing. The lyrics to that song include these lines: "All of my hopes and my dreams and my best laid plans / Are slowly slipping through my folded hands."

"I am learning how to live out the words of 'Lay It Down' daily and experiencing God's love, grace and mercy like never before," she said. "My God is so awesome, I can feel him lift me up every time I feel like it's all too much for me."

Velasquez further said she has not discussed the divorce "because it is clearly too painful. I am still in the healing process and ask for your prayers and consideration for my privacy."

In a 2004 interview with Christian Music Today, Velasquez had described her husband as "the greatest, the funniest, and the coolest guy you'll ever meet. … Any girl wants a guy that will be hers forever, and that's how I feel with him."

Velasquez, a Grammy nominee and multi-platinum selling artist in both the Christian and Latin markets, recently moved to London, but is still making appearances in the U.S. She will appear at the Soul2Soul Honors 2005 event August 26 in Louisville, and she will appear at a Nashville Hecht's department store August 27 in support of the M·A·C AIDS Fund.

She is currently working on her next CD, an all-Spanish for the Latin market. Velasquez is also the founder of her own Christian music label, Apostrophe Records.

Her divorce is the highest-profile divorce in Christian music since Amy Grant's 1999 divorce from Gary Chapman. Grant—like Velasquez a Word Records artist—later married country music superstar Vince Gill.

After Grant's divorce became public, many radio stations stopped playing her songs and many Christian retailers refused to stock her albums. But Grant has made a comeback in Christian music circles in recent years, especially with her two hymns albums, Legacy (2002) and Rock of Ages (2005).

Regarding Velasquez, a Word Records representative said the label is "not concentrating on radio or retail sales. We love Jaci, and we're concentrating on Jaci and helping her work through this."

Sunday, August 14, 2005

This is a great article on the Eastern Orthodox denomination:

It's All About Jesus
A convert to Orthodoxy reconsiders evangelicalism.
by Sam Torode | posted 08/12/2005 09:00 a.m.


Twenty years ago, Thomas Howard, the brother of devotional writer Elisabeth Elliot, wrote a book titled Evangelical Is Not Enough. His basic argument was that rituals don't necessarily lead to dead religiosity. Instead, sacramental rites and liturgical rhythms can bring us closer to Christ. Howard was an Anglican at the time, and later became Roman Catholic.


I've been on a similar journey. I grew up Baptist, lost my fundamentalist faith, became interested in the ancient traditions of the church, attended a Lutheran parish for a time, and eventually wound up Eastern Orthodox.


Like Howard, I now stand on the opposite side of the liturgical fence from most evangelicals. But I've come to a different conclusion than "evangelical is not enough."

Evangelical Principles
What is evangelicalism, anyhow? Evangelical seems to be an adjective more than a noun. Evangelicals tend not to identify much with their particular churches, preferring to be known as "mere Christians." There are both evangelical Baptists and evangelical Episcopalians, though the Baptist and Episcopal churches are about as far apart as country music is from classical.


For all their diversity, evangelicals hold several principles in common. This list isn't exhaustive, but here are some key emphases of evangelicals:


(1) Salvation is by faith alone, not works.

(2) The Bible is the standard for Christian doctrine and practice.

(3) Everyone needs a personal relationship with Jesus.


(4) "The church" means all Christians everywhere, and there is no "true" or "perfect" church this side of heaven.


When I became disillusioned with the Baptist faith, I eagerly drank up the writings of Catholic and Orthodox apologists (often former Protestants themselves) who challenged these four principles. I took up their arguments and shot off combative e-mails to my evangelical friends. Among other things, I argued that:

• Salvation by faith alone is not biblical. The only time the words justified, faith, and alone appear together in the Bible, it's to say that "a man is justified by works, not by faith alone" (James 2:24).


• Sola scriptura (the idea that the Bible alone is our guide—not church tradition) isn't found in the Bible, either. Since Scripture doesn't interpret itself, we need an authoritative interpretive community to make sense of it.


• The evangelical focus on a "personal relationship" with Christ tends to obscure our corporate identity as members of the church. The New Testament writers don't say anything about "asking Jesus into our hearts." Instead, they tell us to repent and be baptized into the church.


• Jesus and the apostles founded a church, not a loose affiliation of freelance believers. The apostles laid hands on bishops to oversee this church, so as to keep the doctrine pure and prevent schism. This church must still be around today, because Jesus promised that the gates of hell would not prevail against it. I still believe this critique has merit. (So do many evangelicals, who realize that their core principles need some qualification.) But when I consider the four evangelical principles today, I see more to applaud than to disagree with. Why the change?


It's Not About Works
When I became Orthodox, I was tired of what I saw as evangelicalism's "cheap grace." I was ready for some discipline and hard work along the path of salvation.


If it's self-discipline you seek, Orthodoxy is definitely the tradition for you. The Orthodox Church has devised many ways to deny yourself and take up your cross—for example, by abstaining from meat and dairy products every Wednesday and Friday, as well as during long penitential seasons like Lent, Advent, and the Apostles' Fast. Married couples are encouraged to take it a step further, by abstaining from intercourse on these same fast days. (That's not something Orthodox apologists like to broadcast. When I first heard it, I announced to a friend that I could never become Orthodox; later, I learned that few Orthodox follow this custom strictly.)


Faced with all this fasting, it's easy to get obsessive. We joined a parish of mostly ex-Protestants who, like us, were eager to be good Orthodox. We looked down on those "ethnic Orthodox" who still eat their gyros and feta cheese during Lent. During church fellowship times, our conversations often centered on fasting (i.e., "What do I do if my parents offer me cheesecake on Friday?"). Fast-friendly recipes were eagerly exchanged, for everything from "Lenten pizza" (no cheese) to "Lenten chocolate cake" (tastes just like the real thing!).


One Sunday, a friend in the church confided to my wife, "Sometimes, I forget it's all about Jesus." That's when it hit us—we'd forgotten that it's all about Jesus, too. Most of the time, instead of overflowing with God's love, I was just ticked off about not being able to eat a burger. Meanwhile, my wife was feeling guilty about eating dairy products, despite being a nursing mother.


In the process of healing from this legalism, we ended up finding a new church home—a Greek one. Now, we're grateful for the relaxed attitude of our "cradle Orthodox" brothers and sisters. One of the first things our new priest said to us was, "Jesus looks at the heart—not the belly." That doesn't mean we should reject the spiritual disciplines of fasting and other "works," he added, but we need to view them as gifts from God. If you try to grasp a spiritual gift before it's given to you, you'll crash and burn.


The Bible, the Standard
My wife and I like to joke that we became Orthodox because we wanted to belong to a church where we were the "liberals." But for us, the core doctrines of the faith, such as the Virgin Birth or divinity of Christ, are not up for discussion.


Beyond the core doctrines, there is no definitive teaching on many issues of Christian life. When it comes to a disputed issue, you can find an Orthodox saint, monk, theologian, or priest to back up almost any argument. How do you know what's right?


In the front of the Orthodox Study Bible (yes, there is such a thing), there is a section of quotes about Scripture from saints throughout the centuries. Here's one from St. Nikon of Optina (20th century): "Read the Holy Gospel, be penetrated by its spirit, make it the rule of your life, your handbook; in every action and question of life, act according to the study of the Gospel. This is the only light of our life."

When evaluating any notion about the Christian life, we always have to refer to the source—the Bible. In the case of fasting, we Orthodox could avoid a lot of problems by listening to Jesus' words—"What goes into a man's mouth does not make him 'unclean,' but what comes out of his mouth, that is what makes him 'unclean'" (Matt. 15:11).

In the Orthodox Church, no individual saint, bishop, or theologian is considered infallible. Even the greatest have taught things that were later rejected. To give just one example, St. Gregory of Nyssa was a great defender of the doctrine of the Trinity, but his ideas about universal salvation conflicted with Scripture, so they failed to enter the mainstream.


Tradition is not a separate, or superior, source of light from Scripture. It is a commentary on the Light, helping us adjust our eyes to its brilliance.

Christ, Our One Mediator
Many Protestant converts to Orthodoxy and Catholicism are looking for a "final authority" on all matters of faith and life. To them, discerning the truth for yourself sounds like relativism. They are anxious to hand over their consciences to an infallible judge.


This is truer of converts to Rome, who often criticize the Orthodox for lack of a single teaching authority. But some Orthodox cling to a cult-like obedience to their priest or spiritual father. I know of one Orthodox monk who told a follower, "If I tell you to dig a hole today, and then I tell you to fill it in tomorrow, you must obey me without questioning."


In the right circumstances, obedience to authority can be an important discipline. In his letters, Paul certainly encourages us to obey our elders in the Lord. But Spirit-led obedience is joyful, not oppressive. God gifted us with free will for a reason. He doesn't force obedience. Jesus woos us with the beauty of truth and righteousness, and he desires our free response to his love.


I can't hand my free will over to a pope, priest, or spiritual father, even though these can be helpful guides. For example, I greatly admire Pope John Paul II's teachings on marriage and sexuality, but I admire them for the beauty and truth I find there, not because I take them to be divine or infallible. I am responsible for my decisions, and I alone will answer for them.


All Part of 'the Church'
Evangelicals, Catholics, and Orthodox disagree about the exact identity of "the church." But when the smoke clears, we all agree that everyone under the lordship of Christ, regardless of denominational affiliation, is somehow part of the church. That's the important thing. Beyond that, I'd rather avoid judgments about who's in and who's out of the church.


I'm not arguing for relativism, but humility. Objective truth exists, but our human ability to discern it is limited. In fact, Truth is not a set of ideas—it's a person. Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life." We only know Truth as much as we know Christ.


I'm a grateful member of the Orthodox Church, and I'm happy to talk about the glories of this path as well as the struggles. I believe that the "trappings" of Orthodoxy—icons, liturgies, rote prayers, and other things evangelicals often are suspicious of—can bring us closer to Christ. But when these things become ends in themselves—idols instead of icons—we need to step back and remember what, or who, it's all about.


Instead of "evangelizing" my evangelical friends, I now hope to learn from them. Discussing differences is worthwhile, but it's more important to encourage each other as we grow in Christ.


It took me a while, but I think I've finally learned what really matters. Liturgical is not enough, sacramental is not enough, Catholic is not enough, and Orthodox is not enough. Only Jesus is enough.

Sam Torode is the coauthor (with wife, Bethany) of Aflame: Ancient Wisdom on Marriage (Eerdmans, 2005).