My grandfather's last name is Paul, like the apostle. Sometimes names are like prophecies to be fulfilled. Like Princess Diana whose name is an anagram for "die in a car spin;" like the man who made off with billions of dollars whose last name is Madoff; like the woman whose name was Neda, which means "voice" in Farsi, whose death on YouTube made her the voice of the Iranian protest of the latest elections; my grandfather, whose last name is Paul, became a highly successful preacher, baptizing perhaps a thousand people into the Church of Christ, a denomination that used to have pretensions of not being a denomination, because it claimed to be the one true Church. My last name is Tarpley. As far as I can tell, this just means my family originated in the village of Tapeley in Devonshire. There are no prophecies for me.That my mother went to church, given who her father was, is no surprise. That she took me to church when I was young is also not surprising. What surprised us all was that my mother married my first step-father, who is the complete opposite of my grandfather in almost every way. My step-father was an anthropologist, a man with deep respect for every culture, every religion on the planet. And with so much respect in his heart, how could he hold one religion over any other? Instead, he showed reverence in every church, every temple. His religion was humanity, and I inherited this religion.
As a 14-year-old, I suffered the angst of any teenager, but I stacked on-top of this: anger over my mother's second divorce, culture-shock (I'd lived in Central America on and off for 5 years, and had to re-integrate into U.S. society as an awkward young man), and a growing resentment toward my grandfather's religion. Many of my fellow middle-schoolers were Christians, and I self-righteously asked them the following questions: Why believe in the mythology of the book of Genesis when the Big Bang and Evolution were enough to explain our existence? Where did Cain's wife come from? Why would God create us only to send the majority of us to Hell? Who would want Abraham as a father, when he was so willing to kill Isaac? Who would worship a God who asked Abraham to kill Isaac? Who would worship a God who commanded the Israelites to commit genocide on the peoples of "The Promised Land?" Out of all the people on the Earth, why did God appear only to the Israelites? If God is omniscient and omnipotent, why would he allow innocent people/animals to suffer?
Over the years, in order to refine my arguments, I read Skeptic Magazine. I purchased an anthology of atheist writings. I tried to understand Nietzsche. When I got my first computer, I read and posted on the alt.athiesm Usenet group. A friend and I attended the Bible club at middle-school in order to disrupt their meetings. Before Richard Dawkins ever mobilized his New Atheists, I was a militant young religion hater.
My anger and teenage rebellion boiled over the pot, and I spent a night in juvenile detention for setting a bonfire on a neighbor's driveway at 3:00AM. I failed the eighth grade. I looked at the wreck my anger had caused, and decided to calm down, to press pause for awhile. We moved to Tyler, Texas in order to be near my grandparents for various reasons, and in order to keep up appearances, we went to church. I hated every minute of it.
I hated every minute of it, until I befriended members of the youth group. As shallow as it sounds, I was thrilled to be around a group of people who thought I was unique because of my circumstances. I received attention, and soaked it up like a selfish sponge. Soon I was surprised by how much I cared for my newfound friends, how little I minded what they thought or believed. I became culturally indoctrinated into the church; I learned how to say the right things and act churchly. I think had the person I'd been six months before been watching me on video, he would've shaken his head and said I was being brainwashed. He might've been right: what's the difference between adapting to your environment and brainwashing?
Regardless of the amount of adaptation I underwent, at my core I remained highly skeptical. I still frequented the alt.atheism group. I still vastly preferred the sermons I heard on Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Soundgarden albums to anything I was hearing from the pulpit. I was "playing church" and becoming quite good at it, but I was hypocritical at best.The skeptical, reasoning, rational part of me would love to say that I eventually worked out all of the problems I had with Christianity before becoming a true believer. The reality is that I was attacked from behind, I was snuck-up on, swept up, and irrevocably changed before I knew what hit me. The cliché idea of a "religious experience" embarrasses me. The idea of "finding Jesus," of being "born again" was hilarious to me before I became a Christian. What happened to me, however, was 100% emotional, and to borrow a line from one of my favorite movies ("Playing by Heart"), trying to write about what I felt is like trying to dance about architecture. But here's my feeble attempt.
The youth group had taken a bus to Nacogdoches, Texas in order to have a "retreat." For kids in a youth group, a retreat is an occasion to retreat from one's parents, to pretend for a number of days that one is an independent person. For me, it was a retreat from my bedroom, a full immersion into this churchly world I'd only been dangling my feet into. It was a Saturday night. The lights were switched off. The time was approximately 11:30PM. The youth minister and the counselors decided we'd all stay up and sing songs until midnight so that it would be Sunday morning, and we'd all take communion before going to bed. A caricature of church people sitting in a circle, holding hands, and singing "Kumbaya" exists in our culture. This doesn't approximates what it feels like to be surrounded by a group of people who have grown up singing a cappela, harmonizing at the top of their lungs. This is what I experienced that night, in the darkness. Inside, a great tidal wave of emotion broke loose. I felt ashamed of all the anger I'd felt. I felt silly for having mocked what these people believed with all their heart. I felt a question quietly presenting itself before me: Why? Why had I expended so much negative energy? Why couldn't I listen, why couldn't I truly consider what this first-century Jew had given his life for? What had he given his life for? Wasn't it love? Hadn't he stood up against the religious establishment and shouted that unless they were feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and helping the poor they were whitewashed tombs?
It felt as though there were a giant, cosmic question that up until that point I'd answered with a "no," and now I was answering with a maybe, with a half-hearted, sheepish whisper of "yes." Had I said "yes" to the existence of God, to the infallibility of the Bible, to the doctrinal stances of the church? I don't think so. I think I was saying yes to Love, and the best example I could find of this love was in Jesus Christ, a man whose story spans a mere four out of the sixty-six books in the protestant Biblical canon.
Since high-school I've had a love/hate relationship with my Church of Christ heritage. I've had moments of religious zeal (I was the president of my high school's Bible club, I went to a private Christian undergraduate institution, I've preached at congregations, I was a member of a mission team headed for Peru); I've had moments where I couldn't stand to step inside a church building. While I'm good at being churchly, I also use salty language, drink beer, and hold liberal political views. I love Jesus Christ; I hate right-wing, politically infused Christianity. I love the bride of Christ (the Church); I hate the fact that the churches in my heritage are (implicitly) racially segregated places where (explicitly) women can't hold anything resembling authority. I get tired of being disappointed, of watching while the "good news" of Jesus Christ is pushed aside by petty squabbling. I get tired of being hurt, of having to be tactful when I'm in church. So why do I go at all?To Learn
I've found that the majority of the questions I've struggled with have been picked apart for thousands of years by people who have devoted their lives to religious study. It is arrogant of me to assume I know all there is to know about these matters. Church is a lot like an Easter Egg hunt – sometimes the nuggets of wisdom are hidden deep in the grass, but once you find them, it's very sweet.
To Build Relationships
This can be the hardest, but most rewarding part about church. It's a lot like a family get-together. There are plenty of people in the room you don't like and have nothing in common with. For some reason, however, once you break that barrier and learn to love people you wouldn't have loved otherwise, you treasure those relationships deeply. It's proof that Love really can transcend.
To Recharge Spiritually
Spirituality is an ambiguous thing. Is it being in-tune with God? Is it simply stimulating a particular part of the brain? Both? I wouldn't presume to know. I just know that I've experienced it, and just like that feeling of healthiness and energy you get from working out, recharging spiritually is addictive.
To Further the Kingdom
Most people would read that title and think "evangelism." I'm not talking about converting people to Christianity. I'm talking about expanding the boundary of the place where the hungry are fed, the sick are healed, those who mourn are comforted, and the poor are provided for. These things are what characterize the Kingdom of God for me.
To Change the Church
If I want church to be less painful, I've got to work on changing it. I may be a single pebble on the road attempting to stop a runaway semi-truck. But if enough pebbles build a wall, maybe we'd have a chance?
Do you say "yes" to Love? If so, how does this look in your life?
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10 comments:
Congratulations on the better place you are at now. I only want to comment on one matter you raised. It's kind of a hobby with me. The definition of denomination you used--seems to be the one I more or less grew up with. False churches are denominations. We are not false. Therefore we are not a "denomination." Denying denominational status therefore was another way of saying "we are the one true church." So to say that we are a denomination is a way of saying, we are no more true nor false as a church than any other religious body. That is another whole issue to be discussed. However, the English word denomination in its religious definition, according to the dictionaries, means "an organized group of congregations." A denomination has a hierarchy or umbrella organization over it. The churches of Christ are hardly organized--at least anymore. They do not have an umbrella organization over them. Therefore they are not, by definition, a denomination. I believe that this is the original claim by churches of Christ (still valid), a claim that became muddled over time by misuse of the word. I value the church and the truth and would like to see both rescued from this usage. I suggest that it is unhelpful to take a word and use it in a non-standard manner. It certainly brings obscurity to any discussion. Regards.
Frazier,
Thanks for reading! I also appreciate your willingness to dive in and offer your thoughts on the idea of the Church of Christ not being a denomination. I think I understand your argument. You're saying that the dictionary definition of denomination implies top-down organization, and therefore (because CfC congregations claim to be autonomous) the CfC is not a denomination. It's a good argument, but I have two things to say about it.
1. The definition of denomination, like any word in the English language, is in flux, and is determined by the context in which it is used. As an English professor, I can't tell you how many times I've been frustrated by the way students "misuse" words. In the end, you have to ask yourself, who's in charge of language? The dictionaries, or the culture? The answer, as much as it pains me to say, is the latter. Therefore, within CfC conversations, the word denomination has become code for the debate over whether or not the CfC is the only true church. I find that discussion embarrassing, arrogant, and damaging.
2. The CfC may not have an official, top-down governing body, but the reality is we've always been connected and culturally normalized, whether through the old tracts (like this one, ironically: http://www.churches-of-christ.net/tracts/job054u.htm), or through our network of universities. The end result is that when you walk into a CfC anywhere in the world, you pretty much know what to expect. This is also why when a church "goes rogue" like Richland Hills in Dallas when it instituted an instrumental worship service, it receives letters from other CfC members asking it to remove the words "Church of Christ" from its sign. How is that autonomy? It may not be official, top-down organization, but it's effectively normalizing just the same, and is in my opinion, very much a denomination.
Hello Brian! I don't have much to offer, except thanks for such an honest, brave and well written piece. I am glad to know these details about you. I have so much respect for your beliefs and the journey that brought you to them. Thank you for sharing your ideas - I hope you never stop. :)
An English professor! Better watch my p's and q's. Of course you are correct about usage being the true norm for word definitions. The reason I think it is important to try to be precise here is because it relates to the original intent of the Restoration Movement. The original aim was to unify Christians. The solution was to ground all common faith and practice in Scripture, specifically the NT. One could not ground the usage of incense in Scripture, so it was not to be used. Likewise for infant baptism, instruments of music, -- you know the list. But on that list would have been supervisory bodies such as are found in the Roman Catholic church, Presbyterian church, Methodist, etc. Such organizations were unknown in the NT.
Early on in the Restoration it was not so much, "We think if you employ such bodies or practices you are going to hell." But rather--"we can all agree that the Lutheran synod is not in the NT, why don't we all just abandon such practices and have unity on the NT" Later this evolved into--if you add any single belief or practice to the NT you are surely going to be lost--and said sometimes with bitterness. I am happy going to church where I go because we don't compel one another or visitors to engage in worship practices unknown to the NT, or submit to organzations unknown in the NT. And we try to be charitable to bodies which choose to add them. I think the original plea was a good one. The later development of attitudes became much too presumptuous about the eternal judgment coming on those who didn't agree.
So far as there being an informal supervisory body--a limited case can be made, but it is far from the Roman Catholic organzation, and almost as remote from many other denominational structures.
For my part, I try to get all my faith and practice from the NT only. This is probably more than you wanted to know.
Regards
@chrissy: thanks ;)
@frazier: i'm aware of the restoration movement's idea that throwing away all creed-books and only relying on the NT would bring about unity. i think that idea is problematic for these reasons.
1. it has not brought about unity. instead of unifying all denominations, we endured a major split 100 years ago over instrumental music, and we've since become a tiny, dying denomination. 2 out of 3 people that grow up in the church of christ leave before 25.
2. when three people read the NT, they come away with three different ideas for how the church ought to be. the "command, example, necessary inference" hermeneutic is reductive and insufficient.
3. why "restore" the church to the first century? it is arrogant of us to throw away 2000+ years of biblical scholarship by christians all over the world.
4. almost every aspect of our worship, from full-time paid preachers, individual plastic cups filled with grape juice, parking lots, "bible school," etc are practices unknown to the NT. we need to wake up and quit pretending that we can restore the first century. we need to learn what it means to be context sensitive, to read and apply the Bible in a culturally sensitive way.
Bryan,
I did not intend to provoke a debate on “traditional” “Church of Christ” theology. I can only speak for where I am personally.
I will try to address some of which you raised. I would suggest that Christians generally need to come to a better understanding of exactly what religious unity is. I personally think it is fundamentally congregational in nature. I can hardly have religious fellowship with people 500 miles away in a congregation I never heard of. My true fellowship is with those I commune with every Sunday.
I would not necessarily agree with your summary of Restoration Movement history, although as a growing movement we have certainly stalled out.
I guess we will just have to agree to disagree on the use of “denomination” to describe my local congregation and others like it.
We probably are losing a lot of our youth. I don’t know if this is the fault of some theory about attaining religious unity or other flaws that are evident among some elements of our movement or the secular age in which we live or what.
So far as hermeneutic is concerned I would suggest that this is the second question to be asked. The first question is what shall a Christian take for his religious authority. (As the Lord once asked, is it of God or is it of man?) In the Middle Ages it was the papacy. In other words, it was a human based authority. Later of course, people decided that had been a bad idea and desired to make Scripture the authority. Once that decision has been made then the question of hermeneutics becomes a little easier. Of course if people want to place themselves back under human words, they are free to do so. My opinion is that this course is unsound and unwholesome.
Actually I would suggest that people who consistently desire to ground their faith and practice in sola scriptura have come to much more similar beliefs and practices than those who defer to human authority—at least in major matters. There are after all huge theological chasms separating the beliefs and sometimes the practices of the major denominations.
I do not feel it necessary to defend or critique the “command, example, inference.” I apologize if I am arrogant in seeking to rely on Scripture only. But so far as Biblical scholarship is concerned I study from the whole world of scholarship past and present almost every day for their insight into Scripture. For example, scholarship of the first order has known and said for centuries that baptizo means immerse in water. Since I desire to be a NT Christian that is what I practice. The same scholars may say that they don’t practice immersion exclusively. But they also have no desire to ground their baptismal practice only in Scripture. They feel it is their human prerogative to do otherwise. I don’t think such an opinion is sound and wholesome.
(I have reached a limit. I will post my additional comments shortly)
Cordial regards--F
Bryan,
I see full time preachers in the NT. I also see the principle of supporting religious workers. I really did not know that serious NT scholars have suggested otherwise. Maybe I will do some study on the matter. If I become convinced that I cannot ground a paid local minister in the NT I will abandon the practice. If I could ground in the NT that individual plastic cups were a part of NT worship I would insist on them. I only desire to drink of the fruit of the vine. My religious practice does not consist in using any particular container—I have used one cup, glass cups, and drank directly from a bottle. Nor does my religious practice consist in parking lots. I have parked on grass. I have walked to church. My religious practice which I ground in the NT is assembling with the saints. Bible schools are not a part of my religion. Bible study is. I have been to the Lord’s day assembly without Bible schools, and with Bible schools. Sometimes Bible teachers use chalk, sometimes digital projectors, sometimes flannel boards, etc. This is not my religion. Bible study is.
It seems that you have implied that I need to “wake up” and “quit pretending” that I can restore the NT church. I have not couched my comments in the way you depict them. I never used the phrase “restoring the NT church.” I have consistently said that I think it is wholesome to seek to ground all of one’s faith and practice in the NT, rather than in the words of human beings. I cannot see what is so objectionable about that goal. My primary reason for doing this is so that no one will have to come to our service and be compelled to engage in a worship practice or place themselves under religious structures entirely foreign to Scripture.
For the record, I am all in favor of observing context and interpreting Scripture in a way sensitive to culture. But when I get through doing all of that I reserve the right to keep my practices within the boundaries of what I have found in Scripture. I repeat, if someone desires to believe and practice according to the pope, or to a regional synod, or to a Conference or to their own private human inclinations or whatever—I will not stand in their way. But I might remind them that they are hindering from their fellowship anyone else like me who wants to flee human authority and desires to resort to Sola Scriptura.
I am surprised our discussion has taken this turn. I was seeking to engage in specific statements you made. And I was hoping you would engage me in what I had written. I have no wish or intention or ability to defend “traditional” “Church of Christ” positions. My loyalty is to Jesus Christ alone as presented to me in Scripture alone.
You know, if we could agree that grounding all of one’s religious faith and practice in Scripture is an acceptable goal—then we could concentrate on what the real message of Scripture is, and it certainly is not on church organization and a number of other items that people spend time on.
Cordial regards--F
Your old blog is still cached on google. So Catholic Peru is like Iraq, eh?
<3
i have no bloody clue what you're referring to. send me the link, or copy&paste what i wrote, and i'll put in proper context for you, sir. by the way, eralda and i were talking today, and we decided you must get a phd, or we're hiring the organization formally known as blackwater to kidnap you and place you in front of a lecturer.
http://74.125.95.132/search?q=cache:L0v5IPrcyNUJ:www.teamarequipa.net/blog/bryan/+%22Bryan+Tarpley%22&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us&client=firefox-a
You explain yourself fine, though.
I can definitely see the roots of your earthquake story in there.
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