Faithful Thinking, Thoughtful Believing

I don’t want to dance around this today, so let me just put it out there and see what you think: There is a deep, abiding, anti-intellectualism present among evangelicals in general and Baptists in particular that regards thinking itself as an act of unbelief. There, I said it. I feel better…I think. Some, eager to champion Christian orthodoxy, have smuggled in the notion that because critical thinking (which just means asking questions about your subject) has been the locus of liberalism’s attack on orthodoxy, they're determined never to be caught doing it! It’s as though Paul said: “We walk by faith, not by thought,” rather than, “We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor. 5:7). To “blind faith” we’ve added “dumb faith.” Faith doesn’t ask questions. Faith doesn’t think; it believes. Never mind that it was Jesus who commanded us to “love the Lord our God with our minds,” and not just our hearts.

The World is Ending Tomorrow! Absolutely...definitely...maybe...well maybe not.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, but since everybody else is talking about it, I may as well. Harold Camping, who is president of the California-based (no comment) “Family Radio,” a Christian radio “ministry,” has caused quite a stir with his prediction that the “Rapture” will happen tomorrow, May 21, 2001, at 6:00 PM, Pacific time, I presume. There are billboards announcing the end of the world; people are putting their plans in order for their imminent departure; and those who hold Christianity and all things Christian in contempt are planning “Rapture Parties” for tomorrow to celebrate their having been “Left Behind.”

Let me say three things about it.

And Teach Them

We're grandparents! Well…kinda…sorta. We've been raising bluebirds at our house. We watched the mom and dad bluebird build the nest in our bluebird box, and then waited with excitement and anticipation for the eggs to hatch. Daddy Blue dutifully fed Mom Blue on the nest each day. When the eggs hatched, she joined him as they scurried back and forth to the box feeding the littles one. Life was good. Then, the unthinkable happened. We woke one morning to find Daddy Blue belly up on our drive - victim of some terrible fate, natural or otherwise we do not know, though we suspect “foul play.” In any case, now we had a crisis on our hands - a single mom trying to raise three little blueies on her own. We sprang into action. To Wild Birds Unlimited to buy meal worms. We fed her as she fed them. I'd call her every morning, and she dutifully answered and appeared at the feeder for breakfast. Same ritual at night. Then, yesterday morning when I went out to feed her, I noticed that she was not as friendly as she had been. Soon I found out why. The baby blues had fledged and she was trying to get them into the trees to safety. I went in and told Cheryl, and we congratulated ourselves on the successful “birth” of our new “grandbabies.” Little did we know that while our job was nearly over, hers was just beginning. Now Momma Blue had to teach them all the things they would need to know to succeed as bluebirds - flying, perching safely, roosting at night, and, of course, hunting food. In many ways, she's busier now than she was when they were in the bluebird box. Every day we see her shuttling back and forth from this branch to the next tending and teaching and training her little “pupils.” It's really something to watch. And it occurred to me: It never was her job to produce hatchlings or fledglings. It was her job to produce bluebirds, and for that she must teach them, not just birth them.

Camo Christian

Todd Brady, minister to the university at Union University in Jackson, Tennessee, tells a story about driving around town with his two-year son, Jack, while Jack does the two-year old thing and “names” everything in sight. “Police car!” “Hospital!” “Water tower!” “Doggie!” “School bus!” Todd dutifully responds with the appropriate parental praise: “Yes, Jack. That’s right.” But things get a bit complicated when they pass a brick, ultra-modern, rectangular, nondescript office building, and Jack, thinking he recognizes it, shouts: “Church!”

While architecture is no fail-safe method of determining a church’s faithfulness to the Gospel, it can say a lot about who we think we are and what it is we believe we’re doing in there.