Apostasy is turning away from a belief, either to another faith or to atheism. It’s a crime punishable by death in some (all?) countries with Islamic legal systems. In civilized places, it’s a free choice people exercise daily.

As it happens, Yousef Nadarkhani isn’t even an apostate. He never was a Muslim. But Iran set its barbarism knob to “11″ back in 1979. Their so-called judges say, that’s okay, because Nadarkhani is of Muslim ancestry. Even though he never was a Muslim, some of his ancestors were, and his “apostasy” consists of turning away from the faith of his ancestors. (Seems to me there was a fellow in Mecca in the 600′s who did that, PBUH.)

What can be done now? First, we can pray for Nadarkhani and his congregation. Pray for all Christians suffering under the heels of repressive governments, and pray that their oppressors develop a conscience.

Second, we can publicize his case. Jesus said “All who do evil hate the light” (John 3:20). The Iranian clerics judging Nadarkhani think they can perpetrate this evil in the dark, with nobody seeing. They’re wrong.

Now here’s the thing: I appreciate he isn’t just responding with a knee-jerk “God said it / I believe it / that settles it.” It’s a tough problem. I see people in church struggling to do what’s right when their spouse has dementia.

But “disability is vocation.” We believe that God is sovereign, and if the road we walk is a tough one, we should walk it nonetheless, because if God didn’t want us to, he wouldn’t have made the road that way. We say the road can be walked because God is with us on the way, and, if it comes to it, God will carry over the worst parts. We say that if (or when) we fall down, God will pick us back up and set us on our feet.

Difficult circumstances aren’t license to sin, they are our calling. Slaves are to obey their earthly masters, even when the master is cruel (Ephesians 6:5, Colossians 3:22, 1 Peter 2:18).

That’s what we say to teens who are tempted to premarital sex. It’s what we tell homosexuals about any kind of sex. It’s why women should submit to their husband’s authority, and why men should should give their lives for their wives.

But do we believe it when the tough circumstances are our problem, or just when they’re other people’s problems?

(A separate observation is that Robertson seems to be using worldly wisdom here. How does the Gospel of Jesus Christ change the equation? I know a non-believer who is taking care of their spouse partly from residual affection and partly from a stubborn unwillingness to break their marriage vows. What are they to make of Christianity when a popular preacher holds them not to a higher standard, but a lower one?)

Finally, let me answer an obvious question about vocation. Must we bear up under whatever our circumstances, or may we seek to change them? If I’m born with poor eyesight, am I forbidden to wear glasses? If there’s a medical breakthrough that cures dementia, can I use it? I’d answer those questions no, no, and yes.

The hardest Scripture on this subject is probably 1 Corinthians 7:20, which says:

Let each of you remain in the condition in which you were called.

Here’s how John Calvin and I interpret that:

Now it were a very hard thing if a tailor were not at liberty to learn another trade, or if a merchant were not at liberty to betake himself to farming. I answer, that this is not what the Apostle intends, for he has it simply in view to correct that inconsiderate eagerness, which prompts some to change their condition without any proper reason, whether they do it from superstition, or from any other motive.

Farther, he calls every one to this rule also — that they bear in mind what is suitable to their calling. He does not, therefore, impose upon any one the necessity of continuing in the kind of life which he has once taken up, but rather condemns that restlessness, which prevents an individual from remaining in his condition with a peaceable mind and he exhorts, that every one stick by his trade, as the old proverb goes.

If you’re not a fan of Calvin, here’s what Wesley said:

Wherein he is — When God calls him. Let him not seek to change this, without a clear direction from Providence.

(It’s amusing that the Armenian says to do nothing except if God directs you, and the Calvinist says you’re free to act. But that’s a completely different topic for another day.)

In the 1980s, the researchers found, there was little difference in religious participation between high school- and college-educated whites. But by the 2000s, a gap appeared. Today, 46 percent of college-educated whites go to a church, synagogue or equivalent institution at least once a month, compared with 37 percent of high school-educated whites.

Whites without a high school diploma were the least likely to attend church in the 1970s and remain so today. In the 1970s, 38 percent attended church at least monthly. Today, only 23 percent do. (Blacks and Hispanics do not show the same declines.)

I wonder why this is. Are better-educated people more responsive to outreach? Do churches seek out and minister to better-educated people? And is there a difference between those questions? How can churches be more effective at communicating the gospel to people who aren’t as well educated?

P.S.: the question I missed was about an eastern religion, and I didn’t know which one it was. Like Reverend Lovejoy, I had to file that question under “miscellaneous.”

Well, technically, I wasn’t on a retreat. I was at the 2010 Academy of Missional Preaching (Southwest). But it was held at the Serra Retreat Center in Malibu, and there were retreat-ish aspects to it. If you needed to work on a sermon, you could go sit in a garden like the one above and think about what you were trying to say. It was a pretty harsh existence, but we must all be prepared to sacrifice for the Kingdom.

Of course, it was not only about preaching, it was about missional preaching. (Missional is the idea that the church exists as an instrument used in God’s mission to the world. See John 20:21, Acts 1:8, etc.) In addition to preaching, we also got to hear various speakers including John Dally (Choosing the Kingdom) and Darrell Guder (Missional Church).

The pull quote you see here isn’t quite a quote; if you watch the video you’ll see they “punched it up” a bit. What he actually said was,

“It’s a reasoned faith. I don’t believe we should check our heads at the door when we go to church. That’s one of the reasons I’m a Presbyterian, I guess.”

I sighed when I read that, but the way the page looks, you can hope it’s dynamic content and different visitors will see different quotes. But so far, it appears to be stuck on this one. That’s regrettable.

Back when I was in college, I used to hang out with the chess club. I never was any good at chess, but some of my friends were. One day, as I was watching some people play, M.S. suddenly stood up and shouted, “Why must I lose to this idiot!”

Now, M.S. is one of the most brilliant people I’ve met. He went on to do postgraduate work at M.I.T. He certainly didn’t check his head at the door. But that day, he was losing at chess, and handling it badly.

That’s what this quote on the PC(USA) web page reminds me of.

Now, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a reasoned faith, and I hope people don’t check their heads at our church door.

After all, Jesus added “minds” to his restatement of the great commandment to love God and neighbor. (Compare Mark 12:30 with Deuteronomy 6:4.) In the Sermon on the Mount he radicalizes the Law to teach us that it applies to our psyches as well as our actions. “You have heard it said… ‘You shall not murder,’ but I say to you that if you are angry….” etc. (Matthew 5:21-22 and what follows.) I don’t believe Jesus wants anybody checking their heads at the door. “Wisdom cries out in the street,” etc. (Proverbs 1:20)

For when one says, “I belong to Paul,” and another, “I belong to Apollos,” are you not merely human? What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you came to believe, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. (1 Corinthians 3:4-6)

One problem with the quote on the PC(USA) website is that it’s divisive. But it doesn’t have the nerve to say who those less-intellectual Christians might be. (My guess? The big church across town that all your members left to join.)

If our website had the nerve to name names, people could respond and make their case. They could argue in favor of an anti-intellectual position. Or they could argue that they are just as intellectual as Presbyterians. Instead, we just tar everyone who’s not a Presbyterian as a know-nothing, while maintaining plausible deniability should someone (very reasonably) take offense. “Oh, we didn’t mean you.” Faugh!

It’s also a strawman. I don’t know of any church that makes a point of their anti-intellectualism. (Although no less an intellectual than Tertullian asked what Athens had to do with Jerusalem.)

After 2000 years of division, you would hope that the church has gotten to the point where we don’t mischaracterize each other’s theology. You would hope that, even where we disagree, we don’t bear false witness against each other. (For one thing, it’s simply too easy these days for people to refute you, as C. Michael Patton argues over at Parchment and Pen.)

“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” (Matthew 7:1)

But this is the real problem with what our website says. It’s judgmental. First, it suggests (although it doesn’t quite say) that God loves us best because we’re so smart. Even if that were true, “all who exalt themselves will be humbled.” (Luke 18:9-14)

But Jesus made it pretty clear that brains alone aren’t what he’s looking for. He concludes the Sermon on the Mount saying, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21) What’s in your head isn’t enough. His brother James points out the folly of a theology that is correct but doesn’t lead to discipleship. “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe–and shudder.” (James 2:19)

The other way it’s judgmental is that it looks down on people who do check their heads at the door. This reminds me of C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters:

When [the Christian] gets to his pew and looks round him he sees just that selection of his neighbours whom he has hitherto avoided. You want to lean pretty heavily on those neighbours. Make his mind flit to and fro between an expression like ‘the body of Christ’ and the actual faces in the next pew. It matters very little, of course, what kind of people that next pew really contains. You may know one of them to be a great warrior on the Enemy’s side. No matter. Your patient, thanks to Our Father Below, is a fool.

(This from chapter 2.) Or consider the discussion of different gifts in 1 Corinthians 12. (Or the whole letter, not neglecting chapter 13.)

In short, this is an appalling thing to put on your denomination’s website. It’s the sort of thing you do when you’re losing a game of chess to someone you think is an idiot.

Several of you have asked me that question. As you know, I’ve worn a minister’s robe in worship since arriving at Desert Hills. But I quit this summer. Now fall has come, and soon winter will be here, and I haven’t resumed wearing the robes. Why not?

I guess I’m not really sure. There are arguments for and against ministers wearing robes. On the one hand, it’s certainly convenient for the minister. It keeps his or her clothing from being a distraction. I can go right ahead and spill my coffee on my tie, or wear the same clothes two Sundays in a row, and nobody will know.

The robe also symbolizes my education. I got a fancy frame for my diploma, but you have to go to my study to see it. The robe is like a diploma you can wear. I doubt if that’s why Calvin began the practice. He supposedly began wearing his academic gown because his church was cold and drafty–or so the story goes. I suspect it was really for the same reason a chef (still) wears a tall white hat: in the middle ages, everyone wore unique clothes to indicate which guild they belonged to.

I’m not entirely persuaded by either of those reasons. It’s true that some people still wear uniforms — chefs, police and postal workers, and of course people in the armed forces. Doctors wear lab coats and carry stethoscopes. But nurses, on the other hand, don’t wear uniforms any more. I mean, they wear uniforms, but they aren’t uniforms: they’re all different. Where they used to be white and austere, now nurses’ clothes are laid-back and colorful. The idea seems to be that sick people are tense enough; the nurse doesn’t need to add to it. I think the same is true for when you see your pastor.

As for education, things have changed since Calvin’s time. Few back then could even read, and they couldn’t afford a Bible anyway. Today, at least in this country, everyone can afford a Bible, and if someone can’t read, there are always audiobooks.

But beyond that, the robe isn’t effective as a symbol of education, because even professors don’t wear robes any more–except on graduation day. I’d hazard to guess that more people associate the robes with how Bible characters dress than with scholars.

That’s dangerous. It’s one thing to say someone went to school. It’s another thing to put them on a pedestal and say they’ve got some special religious “juice.” The person on the pedestal is supposed to be Jesus. You can have someone ship you water from the Jordan River, but we discourage people from being baptized in it, because water is supposed to be ordinary water. The bread we eat in the Lord’s Supper is just regular bread. The whole point is that God uses ordinary stuff to do extraordinary things. The same is true about ministers.

Ultimately, the question of robes is a judgment call, like your preference in Bible translations–there is an element of personal preference. But there’s also a deeper question: does it help or hinder in carrying out the mission of the church? In that sense, having robes is more like the decisions our Session makes when it schedules the church’s worship services, or how frequently we celebrate communion.

What do you think? Should ministers wear robes? Why, or why not? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Give me a call — let’s talk!

The talk was by Andy Stanley, who spoke about leading a church in uncertainty (e.g., the economy). There was a lot of good advice in his talk, but the best piece of advice was — duh! — you’ll do better in uncertain times if you know what you’re trying to accomplish.

What is your mission?

Our church does have a mission statement, but I doubt if anybody knows what it says. I don’t. Developing one we can all take to heart is something our Session needs to devote some serious time to discussing and praying about.