I Told You So

Back in 2007, in the hey day of "The Counter Hour Movement" and other such collegic oddities, I wrote a blog entry titled “The Direction of a Certain Liberal Arts College,” or something like that. In it I said basically everything that a friend of mine said (although she said it with much more detail and passion than I). In this long lost entry, I made a prediction of sorts that went something like this: due to the current misguided and destructive administrative agenda foisted upon the college, within ten years Crichton College will be no more.

I made that prediction at the end of ’07. Crichton officially folded at the beginning of ’09. I suppose a little over a year is “within” ten years.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I seem to recall that Crichton didn’t have financial problems. Yes, we were a small college. Yes, we sometimes felt like we were running on a shoestring budget at times; but ultimately the college soldiered on with fresh tuition and interested donors. Why? My fervent claim is because we knew who we were and what we were about, and that identity gave us strength.

What exactly were we? Well, we were not an urban missions hub. We were not an open door, pandering, lackluster academic institution. We were not a ‘jonnie-come-lately” to bigger, badder Christian universities. We were not a collection of “recovering racists.” We were a Christian Liberal Arts college, dedicated to academic excellence and strong spiritual development. We were dedicated to the bizarre and absurd proposition that our students could change the world, not through racial reconciliation, not through education to all regardless of their academic credentials (e.g., can they even write?), not through urban development, not through “reaching upward,” but through critical thinking and spiritual growth. That, of course, is the hidden truth behind Crichton’s old motto (does anybody even remember it?): “Think Critically, Grow Spiritual, Change the World.”

This sense of academic excellence and strong spiritual development, this love of learning and love of God, was the sole tie that bound us together. We didn't need racial reconciliation awareness, we didn't need “red revolutions,” we didn't need open dialogue. All we needed was that beautiful scholasticism, the dance of faith and reason. We were united as thinkers and saints; we became divided as whites and blacks, “snobs” and “victims,” “Pharisees” and everyone else, and a house divided against itself never stands. Perhaps, just perhaps, if Crichon had not lost that initial vision and purpose, if it had not lost its mind, then perhaps the board of directors (when deciding the fate of Crichton's Liberal Arts program) would have found something worth saving. Apparently, they didn't, and that to our shame.

Farewell, dear Crichton. We knew thee well and loved thee more, though many loved you less.

Real Racial Reconciliation

Last Thursday evening, I was sitting in on a lecture about atheism when I nearly exploded out of my chair with excitement. My reasons for this is that, without warning, one of the speakers (a professor at my college, who I will dub Dr. P) demonstrated real racial reconciliation. In speaking about the origins of atheism, Dr. P launched into the logical consequences of atheism, specifically nihilism. While talking of nihilism, Dr. P (who is black) addressed the black people in the audience: "I do not want colored people to think that nihilism is a white problem. I have spoken before on the 'nihilism of the hood'." He then went to demonstrate how urban gang mentality is directly related to nihilistic thinking, and then brought his point home with an example of "nihilism of the hood" by referencing the Lester Street Murders. After he made his point, the whole audience, white and black alike, sat unified in our minds and hearts in regards to nihilism and atheism.
That is real racial reconciliation, and I here defiantly post it as testimony against all previous logic in regards to racial reconciliation. Real racial reconciliation is not the continual awareness of and making others aware of the racism that divides us. Real racial reconciliation is the continual awareness of and making others aware of the commonalities that unite us. Any racial reconciliation effort that does not base itself on that logic will lead its followers hopelessly into side eddies, or into further racism (for how reconciled can we get if we are constantly reminded that we still hate each other?).

Church vs. Chapel

This blog is based off what was said at the Crichton Chapel on 8-22-07:

I would say that our speaker was amazing today. His brilliantly sarcastic approach delivered with thunderous yet easy impact the truth about the difference between Christianity and religion, a favorite subject of mine. His point (paraphrased): Christ came to give us life, not religion. Don't be religious. As he put it, "Religion will make you so stuffy that your own mother won't want to be around you." Oh, and did I mention that he called Paul a "religious smartass" before meeting Christ on the road? That was hilarious in its wonderful mixture of honesty and truthfulness.

I would say all of that...but I cannot, because (according to A.T.) the point of chapel is not the message.

Before we were delighted to our guest speaker's wondrous discourse, A.T. had a statement to make. Apparently (God knows who), some people are under the horrid delusion that chapel is supposed to be like church. Well guess what: it's not. That was A.T.'s point: chapel is not church. And exactly what makes chapel "not-church"? These were A.T.'s qualifications:

1. There is a time of music and worship, but that is not the point of chapel.
2. There is a message, but that is not the point of chapel.
3. Chapel is to glorify Christ.
4. Chapel is to reconcile people to each other through glorifying Christ in what is said and done during chapel.

Points one and two are bizarre by themselves: if the music and message are pointless, if our time of worship and edification (of giving back to and receiving from God) are fundamentally irrelevant to chapel, then what is their purpose? Are they subterfuge? Are they cliche? Are they just there? Since the context of these qualifications is in regards to how chapel differs from church, we can assume that giving to and receiving from God are meaningful in church, but in chapel they are...what? There is no answer given.

Point three is mind-boggling. Remember: the context of these qualifications is in regards to how chapel differs from church. If the point of chapel is to "glorify Christ," we are left to assume by inference that the point of church is not to glorify Christ. This makes absolutely no sense.

Point four is a complete contradiction of the whole set of qualifications. How exactly can we glorify Christ through what is "said and done" in chapel if what is "said and done" in chapel (i.e., the music and/or the message) is irrelevant? There lies the contradiction: points one and two have already established that what is said and done in chapel is irrelevant to the purpose of chapel, and yet point four says that the purpose of chapel is to reconcile ourselves to each other by glorifying Christ through what is said and done. That completely negates what was previously said.

The larger issue here, of course, is a question that has plagued this school for years now: what is chapel? According to what A.T.'s statement, it is and is not about what is said and done, and (as opposed to church) is about glorifying Christ. Um...what?

I am surprised that such a school as Crichton, which hails that it challenges its students to "Think Critically, Grow Spiritually, Change the World" is not thinking critically about this. If we were in a class room setting with one of our illustrious professors, and the question was presented "What is chapel," there would be a required reading of the history of the word and idea of chapel as well as the history of the usage of chapel throughout church history: how did chapel originate? How did the Church use it? What did the Church Fathers or authorities say its use was? How did they differentiate it from a regular church service? Did they differentiate it from a regular church service? What biblical backing is there for such conclusions? What has church history and authority said about chapel? If we came back to said professor with a response like A.T.'s, we would flunk, and flunk hard.

As a disclaimer, I should say that it is possible that A.T. was told to say something at the last minute, and that he tried to articulate what is very hard to say, i.e., what is chapel. What this incident demonstrates, however, is that the answer to that question is not as easy as some would assume. Any attempt to make a simple, cliche answer results in a quick slide into the ridiculous.

The Condescension of God

This blog is based off what was said at the Crichton Chapel on 8-15-07:

I must admit: A.T. is becoming a good speaker; he improves every time he steps before us. Although sometimes it felt like he was struggling for words a bit, I understood and appreciated his point: the condescension of Christ.

Here's the gist of it: Christ, being God, was not lower than man and therefore our servant. He was greater than man, and therefore He chose to become a servant (Philippians 2:5-7). He was the higher willingly becoming the lower. As C.S. Lewis put it in Miracles, God went down to the depths so He could bring all that was there up with Him: He descended so that we could ascend with Him. Christ is the condescension of God.

The word "condescend" carries with it many negative connotations in our anti-establishment generation today, which is a shame. To "condescend" means for the higher to willingly reach down to the lower. We focus too much on the "higher/lower" part and less on the "reach down" part, which is far more important. For a king to reach down into the world of the peasant is not an act of arrogance, but of love, or at least of great magnanimity. With God it is the same. God demonstrated His love for us, in that while we were vile sinners, He reached down into our lower state, became a man, and died for us (Romans 5:8). As Christians, because Christ did this for us, and now that Christ lives in us, we too have the power to "condescend," to reach down into the lowest depths and bring others up with us, to descend into trials and tribulations and ascend purer than gold.

The condescension of God is the gospel. The condescension of God also has meaning for people into living after salvation That is what was preached in chapel today, and if that is what our first chapel was, then I am excited about what will happen later on in the semester.

A Modest Rambling

Let us be honest with ourselves: 99% of the time, chapel...I mean, THE HOUR (da da da, ominous music) somehow manages to successfully suck and blow at the same time without missing a beat. Cheesy (and sometimes horrid) worship mixed with mediocre and oft repetitious messages, or pep talks, or guilt trips, or whatever they are, make up the usual fare.
In addition, 99% of the time these "whatever they are's" fall into three separate categories:

(1) CREW: Let's be honest again--ANY talk on CREW is merely social gospel in disguise (see below in this entry for rantings on social gospel). Do this, do that because that's what Christians do (of course, the Cross cannot be found). Coming from a extremely fundamental conservative Christian background, I must say that talks on CREW always sound suspiciously like the legalistic mantra I'm used to: "Do this, do that because God will frown on you if you don't, you bad Christian you!"

(2) Sex, Love, and Dating: Sometimes good, sometimes bad, and always the same thing over and over again (wait till your maweed!). One shining light of hope came last week when the bioethics expert (Dennis Hollinger? His last name escapes me) treated sex as more than a biological function. Typical SLD messages revolve around sex as a biological function only, and that we should wait because God "says so." In today's post-modern world (both Christian and secular), "say so's" don't count for squat anymore. People need to know why (and God's reason's for why are amazingly deep and mysterious, treating sex and humans as sacred and spiritual things/beings). And, of course, the Cross cannot be found.

(3) Racial Reconciliation and Diversity: In the last "The Hour Live Show" version of chapel, the host decided to kick off the event with a little RRD. His weapon of choice? A typical "White Man Guilt Trip" story that played the same old card: black person got gypped by a white person of authority. Shame on you white man; shame on you all--that's the message that was received. Let's be honest AGAIN: no one is going to dispute that the injustice happened (I certainly don't), but does our RRD department really think that races can be reconciled by creating racial tension by constantly bringing up examples of racism? All "The Hour Live Show" accomplished was to make the racial relations between blacks and whites seem stuck in the 1930's (and can we PLEASE mix it up a bit? Why not a story of black injustice on white people? Or Latino injustice on blacks? Or Latino on Asian? Or Asian on white? Or Arabic on white? Or White on Arabic? Or Latino on white? Or White on Latino? Or Asian on Latino? Or White on Asian? The list of examples seems endless, and endlessly untapped).
Most RRD begins with a guilt trip story whose moral is "Shame on you, white man" and ends with everyone being reminded that we still hate each other. And, again, the Cross cannot be found (A friend of mine once asked a RRD lecturer how we as races are made one together in Christ. The lecturer laughed nervously, called my friend "brother" a bunch of times, and then kindly ignored the question).

Oh, there is some kind of "gospel" that gets presented at chapel, but it is not the gospel of Christ. The "gospel" that gets presented can also fall into three separate categories:

(1) Prosperity Gospel: Oh sure, sure, we had that little seminar on the subject a week ago, and nominal consensus around campus is that Prosperity Gospel is a load of horse manure. But it still can sneak in. Mostly, it sneaks in during what feels like a underglorified Christian pep rally. The speaker quotes some obscure passage from II Chronicles and uses it as a springboard to launch into a "You can do it!" dish with Christendom on the side. There is no accounting for suffering, and therefore, again, the Cross cannot be found.

(2) Social Gospel: This one is deadly because it sounds so, so...Christian. It follows St. James command to a "T": they take care of the fatherless and widowed and sick and helpless. It seems so holy, so righteous; how can one speak out against it (and its children: SOS and CREW)? Here's how: the Cross cannot be found. "What profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul?" Paraphrase: What profits people if we remodel their house, buy them clothes, read to them, cure AIDS, or end world hunger when they still die and go to hell? I doubt the horror of separation from God will be lessened by their freshly upholstered furniture.
"But, Jesus met people's physical needs before he met their spiritual ones." That's bologna. Before Jesus healed the paralytic, He said, "Your sins are forgiven." Jesus' entire life was bound up in the Cross and the redemption of the world so that suffering is no longer meaningless or the end of all things. Ask yourself, What is more Christian: fixing some one's broken house, or leading someone to the One who can fix a broken soul?

(3) Love Gospel: Perhaps the most devilish of them all because it sounds even more Christian than Social Gospel: God sent His Son to die because He loves you. Okay. Right on target. However, why should we accept such salvation? Because...God loves you! He's crazy about you! He's foaming at the mouth practically! Can't you see how much He loves you?! He's going crazy! I'm going crazy! AAAHHH HA HAAAAAAAAAA!
Love Gospel is missing two things: (1) sin, and (2) repentance. The devilishness comes in the fact that there is NO CROSS, and yet there is a silhouette, i.e., Jesus' death is acknowledged, but its reasons are twisted. Why did Jesus die on the cross? According to one previous chapel speaker: "Because God wanted a dramatic way to show that He LOVES YOU! HE'S CRAZY ABOUT YOU! WEE HEE HEE!" No sacrificial love, no "without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins," no Christ being "made sin for us," no nothing. The violence of the Cross was because God wanted you to know His love? Good grief! Either God is a sadist, reckless, or BOTH. A simple reading of John 3:16 would have sufficed to all that bloodshed. Love Gospel strips the Cross of its power and its glory, and just like its prosperity and social cousins, it leaves no room for the reality of suffering or the reality of God being made one with our suffering.

Oh, and don't get me started on the music. One time the singing was so bad it even made me grimace. That is a profound thing. Usually when musical garbage is being pounded into my ears, I remain quiet and politely stand still while others who like that stuff proceed to enjoy themselves (and it is themselves that they are enjoying). But I will not lie: I was raised by a college trained pianist for a mother, and thus have a musical ear. The "worship" presented one time was so horrid that a keeled over, clamped my hand over my mouth, and physically shook to keep in the laughter. Hoo, boy--these people where flat, off beat, and out of tune at the same time while singing in the key of Q. It didn't help that they were singing a song nobody knew, leaving even the praise and worship crowd to awkwardly shuffle back and forth while forty-somethings sang noise at us. Christianity needs a Simon Cowell. The only time I can remember when the worship music actually put people in a worshipfully state was when Josh Smith lead us in old hymns of the faith. What a coincidence. And an ignored fact.

Take heart, though. There is still the 1% of the time when chapel does not suck/blow, but actually is a place where the Spirit of God moves freely: times like Stuart Briscoe, Brian Loritts, or Dennis Hollinger. Even today's chapel was good. Why? Because the Cross was there, and there boldly, without apology, without flinching, without fluff, without fear, without a sugar-coating, and without the key of Q.