John Meunier

In his pamphlet “The Doctrine of Original Sin” John Wesley argues that nearly all unhappiness can be traced to sin.

If you inquire into the troubles under which your neighbor, your acquaintance, or one you casually talk with, labours, still you will find the far greater part of them arise form some fault, either of the sufferer or of others; so that still sin is at the root of trouble, and it is unholiness which causes unhappiness.

Note, he is not strictly “blaming the victim” here. He imagines that the sins that lead to unhappiness are sometimes inflicted upon us rather than brought upon ourselves. Yet, it is still sin.

Many families are miserable through want. They have not the conveniences, if the necessaries, of life. Why have they not? Because they will not work: Were they diligent, they would want nothing. Or, if not idle, they are wasteful; they squander away, in short time, what might have served for many years. Others, indeed, are diligent and frugal too; but a treacherous friend, or a malicious enemy, has ruined them; or they groan under the hand of the oppressor; or the extortioner has entered into their labours. You see, then, in all these cases want (though in various ways) is the effect of sin.

And the effects persist because of sin.

But is there no rich man near? none that could relieve these innocent sufferers, without impairing his own fortune? Yes; but he thinks of nothing less. They may rot and perish for him. See, more sin is implied in their suffering.

The point of the tract is not social diagnosis, but it suggests to me a Christian way of talking about social problems. Whether it is lack of health care or poverty or drug abuse or sex trade or neglect and abuse or murder, the Christian question is not “what sociological or cultural factors were at play.” The Christian question is “where is sin at work in this situation?”

Finding an answer, the Christian works to destroy the work of the devil by removing sin through conviction, confession, conversion, forgiveness, baptism, eucharist, prayer, and the other means at the disposal of the people of God.

Have I mentioned lately that you really should read my daughter’s blog?

Here’s a wing-dinger of a post for you: The United States of Disposable Income

A Stanford University researcher who studies persuasion offers an interesting insight into the nature of certainty and expertise. It has me thinking about the nature of preaching.

It is kind of complex, so hang with me.

In the research, it appears that when an expert expresses uncertainty about an opinion it can be more persuasive than an expert who expresses ironclad certainty.

Conversely, a non-expert who expresses certainty is more persuasive.

Listen to the podcast linked above for a description of the research that led to this conclusion.

The research theorizes that the persuasive power arises from the unexpected contrast between the role (expert/non-expert) and the state of certainty. We expect experts to be certain, so when they are not, it surprises us and causes us to focus more on what they say. The unexpected certainty or uncertainty leads us to chew over what they say more carefully, which leads to greater persuasion.

This finding would tend to support the pattern of contemporary preaching that is based on doubts and questions and encourages the pastor to open up his or her own confusion about the Scripture and about God.

There are, however, some significant caveats.

First, this is only true when the person speaking is perceived as an expert. The pastor who overplays that “just one of us” card might find his or her uncertainty having the opposite effect. It is also important to point out that the expert in the research still had an opinion. The expert was trying to persuade the audience of something. Total lack of opinion, obviously, is not persuasive of anything. The issue is whether the expert shared some level uncertainty or not.

But there is even a bigger caveat.

It appears that uncertainty is only persuasive on matters in which the audience believes there is not an objectively true answer. In cases in which the audience believes there is a true answer – a right or wrong report – uncertainty is not persuasive. For instance, research on court testimony shows that juries find experts who are uncertain less persuasive. This is presumably because the jury believes there is a true answer – either the defendant killed a man or not.

If this is true, it could explain why the certainty of some preachers is persuasive. If the audience believes questions about God are answerable and knowable, then, like the jury, they want experts who do not express doubt.

These research insights suggest some interesting observations about the mix of preaching styles and congregational beliefs about God and what can be known about God’s will.

An overly simplistic schema looks like this:

In turns out, perhaps, that the reason why some preachers embrace doubt is because that is what persuades their congregations, who fundamentally believe that God’s will cannot be fully known. This is a hypothesis that might be interesting to test.

I stumbled on this interesting conversation started by a blogger who is upset that theological and biblio bloggers are not writing enough about the events in Egypt.

I’m not wise enough to know what to write about these events. Of course, I am not an academic theologian. When I spend 20 minutes trying to get up to speed on the events of the world, I am immediately struck by the fact that the cable news fails to capture the complexity of the world.

Here are some of the latest updates from the region this morning.

Protests continue to dominate downtown Cairo.

In Yemen, protests raise questions about stability of that nation’s leadership.

In Sudan, nearly everyone in the Christian South voted to separate from the Muslim North, which might bring about a new country and bring an end to years of bloody conflict. Meanwhile, violence in the Darfur region continues unabated.

In Tunisia, a high profile Islamist opposition leader who had been exiled by the overthrown dictator returned to the country.

A post-election crisis in the Ivory Coast continues as West African neighbors debate what to do.

In Nigeria, a Taliban-like sect is suspected of killing the governor of a state.

In the face of this, I think the faithful prayer is the one we pray every Sunday. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.”

As we are able, we Christians should do good to all people and resist all evil it is in our power to resist. Most of what is happening in Egypt is beyond our personal reach for good or ill. Nothing is beyond the reach of our prayers.

That may not be a sufficient response for the blogger who got me thinking about these issues, but it is the most Christian response I can see.

Here is some of what I did today.

I read Scripture (Jeremiah). I prayed briefly in the morning and twice during the day. I spent a few hours grading papers and writing lesson plans for my class on Monday. I spent a good deal of time reading things online and watching news and entertainment on TV. I made cookies with Luc. I Skyped with JillAnn. I made lunch and dinner for Luc. I read a chapter in the novel I’ve been reading. I started about four blog posts that were all deleted because they had no point. I ate too much, again. I exercised too little, again.

It is now nearing midnight and time to sleep.

Was this a day pleasing to God? How do you tell?

There was much time during the day that was not redeemed – idle and wasted minutes that were not used for the good of one of God’s creatures or the closer communion with God. The temple of this body fell a bit further into disrepair.

It was not all failure, of course. Caring for Luc is surely doing good to God’s own. I did my work. I did spend time in study and prayer.

On the road to holiness, I have miles to go, but have gone at least a few. Let me not be so pleased with where I am that I forget to keep following the Christ who has crossed this way ahead of me.

I do not understand what this is or does, but some of your more techie types might.

Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness. (Acts 4:29, NIV)

I know people for whom this is no challenge. They do not need any grace from God to speak boldly of their faith. But this is not my nature. In the words of the personality tests, I have an “almost toxic” reaction to disharmony and conflict. The books tell me that this is just who I am. It is neither good nor bad. It just is.

But it often feels like cowardice in the moment. When a space opens up for something bold to be said or done, shrinking back can be justified. Preserving a relationship has value. Breaking the unspoken taboos around you will not persuade people. You don’t want to be viewed as a fanatic.

Of course, this was not the way of Jesus or the apostles. It was not the way of John Wesley, who I admire so much.

In worship, among fellow Christians, on this blog, and from the pulpit, it is easy to be bold and to wear my cross outside my shirt – as it were. On the job, in the marketplace, and even among friends and family, it is often a source of potential tension or conflict. When you claim not to live as the pagans but still live among them and live in an increasingly pagan culture, simply trying to live into your baptism is a potential source of conflict.

This has come home to me again since leaving the pulpit. Pastors often experience the bubble the world places around them as confining. The notion that they are “on duty” all the time and therefore expected to live out their vocation in all aspects of their lives can be grating. But it is also a permission slip. The pastor has a free pass to act like a Christian all the time. Indeed, he or she is often the designated Christian in any social setting. The culture gives the pastor a free pass for being a religious kook. It is an occupational expectation.

For social cowards, such as myself, being stripped of that deference throws me back on the grace of God. With the apostles, I pray for boldness. And since I am aware that I face nothing quite so grim as Pilate or Herod, I find even that prayer something of a defeat.

I am not proud to write that, but confession is the first truth. I need more truth.

8 This is what the LORD says:

“As when juice is still found in a cluster of grapes
and people say, ‘Don’t destroy it,
there is still a blessing in it,’
so will I do in behalf of my servants;
I will not destroy them all. (Isaiah 65:8, NIV)

As I listen to us talk about the shortcomings of the United Methodist Church, as I read the books and blog posts about our decline, I almost never encounter words that remind me of the biblical prophets. Isaiah and his kindred had an explanation for the weakness and scattered condition of Israel. The prophets put a clear name on the problem. It was the work of God to rebuke a rebellious people.

We in the United Methodist Church have been weakened and scattered. That is not debated by anyone is it? If so, then what is the nature of our rebellion?

What false idols have we set up in the hills and the high places? In what ways have we turned our back on God? In what ways do we huddle together and say to each other, “It does not matter. God will not notice. God will not act.”

The biblical answer to the question “Why do we keep losing members?” starts with God, doesn’t it? Our decline is a work of God. Either we are stripped from the vine because God has some use of us as a remnant people or because we have rebelled and cut ourselves off from God. Is there another biblical reason God sends his people into exile or death?

Does anyone in the leadership of our denomination read the prophets when they are looking for answers to our ailments?

Living near a college campus – and working on one – I can’t help but see the difference in energy and passion generated by sports and religion. This is the scene last night after the Indiana University basketball team knocked off Illinois. Coach Tom Crean came out into the lobby to celebrate with the fans.

I’m not sure how to relate this scene to religion. Some of our churches seem to be trying to capture and channel this kind of energy and excitement. They use all the tools for secular organization and entertainment.

Other churches view this kind of passion itself as dangerous. There is just a thin line between this kind of crowd passion and the mob violence or debauchery that might be found on campus at other places and other times.

It is not lost on me that early Christians were the objects of entertainment for this kind of crowd passion as they gathered in Roman Coliseum to watch the Christians being killed. It is not lost on me that in Nazi Germany they were masters of manipulating crowd psychology. But crowds can also be inspired to greatness. Crowds can be a sea of joy.

What is the proper Christian attitude toward such passions?

Self-professed liberal Christian Bruce Reyes-Chow has a list of 10 ways he says liberal Christians lose credibility.

Read the whole post.

Here’s one paragraph from it.

We must be able to articulate a Christology that informs our liberalness.  Too often I have been in conversations where it seems that our positions inform our understanding of Jesus.  Yes, this is hard to separate for humans, but if we call ourselves Christian and in order to be taken seriously, we must be able articulate how Christ informs and grounds our beliefs.  If we do not, then we run the risk of turning Christ into the vehicle through which we live our beliefs rather than our own selves being the vehicles through which we live out our faith in Christ.