about the name
In this culture, we've been conditioned to assume everything has a black or white answer. We're not really satified with a shade of grey. So we work tirelessly to draw lines between just about any issue. When it's proven that something is neither black nor white, we accept, but think that somone, somewhere must have clear answer that we just haven't heard yet.
No more is this style of thinking prevelant than in many Christian circles, where biblical teachings are applied with mathematical rigor to every area of life. No matter what your problem, someone will be ready to find a verse in the Bible to answer your question, once and for all.
The only problem is, this doesn't work. Not like it used to. I applaud the theologians for attempting to build a systimatic theology -- one that makes sense on as many levels as possible. It's good to do that, but how do we know when we've gone too far?
A man walks into church. Long before the time he crosses the threshold, the elders have worked out exactly when, why and how they might exclude him from their church. They know which sins are too repulsive to allow, which philosophies are too dangerous and which behaviors to watch out for. Before they shake his hand, they've encoded his future into the airtight language of beurocrats. Love one another as you would be loved? Yes, but.
They'll say, "I'm sorry sir, this church isn't for you," and go on to recommend a good christian counseler who can help him with is problem. In most churches, he wouldn't need to be told. The message would be loud and clear, "don't come back until you're one of us".
The problem with love is that it is grey. It is never black and white. No policy can describe it, no book of law can contain it. Every effort spent trying to formulate love ends up circumventing it.
So instead of assuming something is black or white until proven otherwise, maybe we can begin with grey.
No more is this style of thinking prevelant than in many Christian circles, where biblical teachings are applied with mathematical rigor to every area of life. No matter what your problem, someone will be ready to find a verse in the Bible to answer your question, once and for all.
The only problem is, this doesn't work. Not like it used to. I applaud the theologians for attempting to build a systimatic theology -- one that makes sense on as many levels as possible. It's good to do that, but how do we know when we've gone too far?
A man walks into church. Long before the time he crosses the threshold, the elders have worked out exactly when, why and how they might exclude him from their church. They know which sins are too repulsive to allow, which philosophies are too dangerous and which behaviors to watch out for. Before they shake his hand, they've encoded his future into the airtight language of beurocrats. Love one another as you would be loved? Yes, but.
They'll say, "I'm sorry sir, this church isn't for you," and go on to recommend a good christian counseler who can help him with is problem. In most churches, he wouldn't need to be told. The message would be loud and clear, "don't come back until you're one of us".
The problem with love is that it is grey. It is never black and white. No policy can describe it, no book of law can contain it. Every effort spent trying to formulate love ends up circumventing it.
So instead of assuming something is black or white until proven otherwise, maybe we can begin with grey.