Folk theology

In discussing the difference between academic and folk theology Richard Beck writes, "....even if we had better theology in churches we'd still be awash in folk theology. Mainly because Christian theology tends leaves too many details unspecified or uninvestigated."

He gives two examples, one relating to sin and one relating to the Devil, and what is believed by many Christians about both these matters. What he's pointing out is that many people in the pew have to have a kind of theology (his 'folk' theology) in order to live in the day to day. This theology isn't provided from the pew (when did you last hear anyone preach about the Devil at all, let alone about what sort of state he exists in, where he might actually be and so on?), and it certainly isn't provided by academics, whose books are often not read because they're just too darned hard for the average brain in the pew - even if the aforesaid brain was inclined to read them. (Anyone without academic training tried to read Elizabeth Schüssler-Fiorenza lately? Even apart from her tendency to give words different meanings to the norm, she's hard going...)

Consequently, the folk have to work out some things for themselves. What can preachers do about this?

The rumblings continue

The other day I posted a brief note about Rob Bell's video in which he seems to espouse 'universalism' as a reasonable theology. What he actually does in the video is ask questions - always a good way to start a discussion. And boy, has it started a discussion. On the basis of the video alone (well, not quite alone, on the basis of the video and the blurb on the back of the as yet unpublished book) all manner of people have started discussing the rights and wrongs of what he's said, and whether he's a heretic and is leading people astray and why does Rob Bell get to influence so many people and is he really going to say this in his book (which none of us have read yet) ...and so on.

Richard Beck has been writing about it - he's now on the second of a bunch of posts that will appear on the topic. The first is here.

Tim Keller hasn't written recently about it, but has tweeted back to an earlier article he wrote on the subject - and the way in which traditionalists and postmoderns see Hell differently.

And then there are the Reformed people, who've really gone to town on the whole issue. They're exceedingly up in arms.

What's great about all this is that people are talking theology, that is, they're talking about God, who He (okay 'She' for some of you) is. And they may be arguing like billyo, but at least the subject is out there in the blogosphere for all to see....and that can only be good.

Sorry, who killed the church?

In the middle of last year Richard Beck wrote a post called How Facebook Killed the Church, which has just taken off on the blogosphere again. It's a provocative title, and it's true in relation to what he actually says in the article, where he talks why people who went to church primarily for the social element find it's no longer necessary when there are umpteen technological ways to make contact. I quote:

No doubt, the vast majority of the people in a friend list on Facebook are strangers, acquaintances, or old school friends you haven't seen in years. But no user of Facebook is confused enough to think that she is "in relationship" with any of these people. These are just the penumbra around the core of our Facebook interactions, connecting with people we actually know and are friends with.

In short, Facebook isn't replacing real world relationality. Rather, Facebook tends to reflect our social world.

Beck isn't saying that these people who no longer go to church were thoroughly involved in being disciples - at least I don't think that's what he's saying. There are a great number of very comments to this post, and these clarify and deepen the discussion in a variety of ways. These are as much worth reading as the original post.

More on giving

Back on the 7th of this month I mentioned some blog posts Richard Beck was writing relating to a different view of giving in our churches. He thinks giving in a way that connects with what we're actually giving to might be more helpful than just tossing something in a plate or offering bag.

He's now onto his third post on the subject. Here's an extract:

The most spiritually formative giving that my church does occurs around Thanksgiving when, on Sack Sunday, the church members take up to the front sacks of food for our food pantry. By the ending of the service the stage is packed with food. Then, after the service, we all grab the sacks and take them to a waiting truck. I expect lots of churches have giving times just like this.

The most spiritually formative aspect of this is the shopping during the week in preparation for the service. It's particularly meaningful for my boys who love to go up and down the aisles of the grocery store picking out food items. As we do so we get to talk about giving, poverty, gratitude, and what all this means for someone who follows Jesus of Nazareth.

It's well worth reading the rest because of the way he develops this argument....

Thinking about Giving

Richard Beck doesn't call himself a theologian, but he does a lot of theological thinking. He's just started a series called Thoughts on Church Giving and begins his comments in this fashion, going on to say that while he appreciates the value of church buildings insofar as what they allow congregations to do, he also appreciates being able to give directly to people's needs as they arise....

If you are regular church goer I'm wondering if you have been experiencing something similar to what my wife and I are experiencing. Specifically, it seems harder and harder to drop money in the collection plate.

To be clear, we tithe. But we don't drop all 10% in the collection plate on Sunday morning. We devote some portion of our tithe to the weekly offering, but the rest we spread around to charities or needs where we can give more directly and/or interpersonally.

And that got me wondering. My hunch is that a lot of people give the same way. A small portion goes to the church and the rest is given directly to people with no "middle man."

A rift between the males in church?

Circuitously - in other words, via the sustain-if-able kiwi blog - I came across a piece by a blogger I'd never discovered before, but will definitely be keeping an eye on: Richard Beck, on his blog, Experimental Theology.

The piece is entitled: Thoughts on Mark Driscoll...while I'm knitting, and looks at whether educated men in churches tend to dismiss, or lose track of, the guys who are 'blue collar'. There's a video of Driscoll doing his usual in-your-face thing about what the church isn't doing right - and, as Beck says, he's mostly right on this. However Beck has more to say on the subject, and he's right too. Here's a quote from it.

Most church leaders are highly educated. This means that most church leaders are culturally divorced from the average NASCAR [National Association for Stock Car Racing] fan. The very group Driscoll is targeting.

But here is the very important point about all this. A lot of the reaction to Driscoll isn't even about gender. We are actually talking about the little discussed fissure running through many churches: Education.

I see this everyday in my own church. The educated teach, preach, and have the public leadership roles. The uneducated are marginalized. Worse, if you are an uneducated male, you are force-fed those feminine metaphors. Educated males, being chickified, don't mind or even notice the feminine metaphors. But Joe Six Pack notices the metaphors. All this creates a disjoint in the church. Two groups of males who find each other alien and weird. So when Joe Six Pack wants to start a Wild at Heart study the chickified church leader just blinks uncomprehendingly. Or, if you are me, turns back to his knitting...

I've added the word, chickified, both my spellchecker and my personal vocabulary. Read the rest of Beck - and watch out that you don't get distracted by a host of other pieces he's written, such as those on Calvin and Hobbes, or one on 'pants.'