Finding faith

What's your story? How we came to putting our faith in Christ is the greatest story any of us can tell. If it's been a while since you've told the story of the difference Christ has made in your life, watch out, I might ask you to type up your story and post it here. That's what I did to my new friend, Margaret Evans. We only met a few weeks ago after she posted a comment at my Mere C.S. Lewis blog. I really liked what she had to say about her experience with C.S. Lewis and so I asked her if she would share her story of finding faith. And here it is, in her words...

I grew up in the south, where going to church was just what you did. Much like voting or joining the Rotary Club, it was part of being a “good citizen.” My parents raised us in the Methodist Church.  We were active members, and it was pleasant and comfortable. But here’s the thing: it didn’t take. I considered myself a Christian – wasn’t everybody? – but I never thought much about what that meant, and it wasn’t particularly important to me. So, like many “cultural Christians,” I went off to college and started reading widely and thinking deeply – and meeting smart atheists, some of whom were my professors – and what little faith I had was shaken. I was an English major at a small, prestigious college with strong ties to the Episcopal Church, but it was there that I began losing my religion. In graduate school, the bulldozing of my faith continued. Along with lit courses, I had comparative religion, philosophy, and critical theory (deconstructionism!), all of which combined to pull the rug out from under this small-town southern girl. Not that I minded. I fancied myself quite sophisticated in my new found “enlightenment,” which consisted, mainly, of a conviction that there’s no such thing as “truth,” that life is a random series of meaningless experiences, and that belief in God is for the ignorant. Looking back, I see that my atheism (which I preferred to call “secular humanism”) was as much a “cultural” thing as my Christianity had been. I was running with a different crowd now – academics, artists, journalists – and scoffing was just what you did. My default attitude in those days was amused scorn.

Fast-forward almost two decades. I’m now married with a five-year-old daughter. Western culture is 20 years more decadent. I begin to experience a nagging concern that won’t let go: I need to take Amelia to church. Christianity is her heritage, and she knows nothing about it. She deserves to be exposed to it, if only for the sake of education. She won’t learn about it in school. It’s my responsibility.

These were my thoughts, three and a half years ago, as I took my child to a pretty little Presbyterian church one Sunday morning in December to hear the Christmas portion of Handel’s Messiah. We sat together on the front row, and I listened. And I remembered. (My parents had sung in the choir when I was a girl, and the Messiah was much loved in our home.) I sat there that morning in December, and something inexplicable – and completely unexpected – happened. Something cold and hard and cynical (my heart?) cracked open, and I wept like a baby on the front row of that church. “For, unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given… and the government shall be upon His shoulders…” I had heard those words a thousand times, and suddenly – for the first time – I knew they were true. And that everything – everything – was about to change.

I had no idea.

That morning in church was just the beginning. I often think that G.F. Handel opened my heart, but it took C.S. Lewis (and plenty of other writers) to bring my mind along for the ride. I’m a natural skeptic, so I needed lots of intellectual back-up after that initial moment of revelation.

Lewis gave me a whole new way of seeing; he addressed my natural skepticism and made it okay to believe in miracles... He spoke to my heart AND my mind and allowed me – no, freed me – to really "go there." Know what I mean? In my heart, it was where I already wanted to go, but I needed an intellectual shove. I guess you could say Lewis was my "closer." I remember reading 'Mere Christianity' on the treadmill at my gym, and just weeping openly with joy (and relief!) and wondering why nobody had ever said it to me like THIS before! It really changed my life. Next, I read 'The Screwtape Letters,' which I still think is possibly THE wisest, most insightful book I've ever read. But I'm no Lewis expert. I've read the 'Abolition of Man' and lots of essays (and, of course, the Narnia books) but haven't read the Space Trilogy or even The Great Divorce. (They're all on my list...)

My point is that “conversion” isn’t a one-time thing... an “event” with a beginning and an end.  It may have a catalyst (like Handel’s ‘Messiah’), but it’s an ongoing process of growth and discovery. Ever since that day in church, I’ve been reading and studying, praying and worshipping… trying to figure out what it means to follow Christ. My husband remains an agnostic, as do many of our friends. I’ve even lost a few friends over my conversion, and have suffered a fair amount of marital strife because my husband simply doesn’t understand. As a writer, I’ve struggled with the compulsion to make my faith the focus of my work, but I’m a columnist for an alternative newsweekly, so it’s not a great fit. In short, it’s been an extremely difficult, challenging time… and absolutely amazing. In spite of everything, I have no regrets. I look forward to each new bend in the road with faith, hope and love.

Thanks Margaret for posting your story. Margaret mentioned that she was a columnist (and she's actually the editor too) and I think you would enjoy reading more of her work, so please visit her newsweekly's website. You can also read Margaret's story at very interesting blog called On The Fence with Jesus which I highly recommend. And, of course, if you'd like to read C.S. Lewis which Margaret would highly recommend, as do I, then please visit the Mere C.S. Lewis site and check back everyday for a new reading.

Technorati Tags: C.S. Lewis,Mere Christianity,conversion

Easter REDUX

Year by year, the truth behind the Christian celebration of Easter, the very heart of Christianity, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, is being progressively challenged. An Easter Redux is underway. Christians be warned!

Richard Dawkins, the scientist, author and campaigning atheist was asked, “What do you think happened to the body of Jesus, and how does that tally with the accounts of the resurrection?” Dawkins answered, “Presumably what happened to Jesus was what happens to all of us when we die. We decompose. Accounts of Jesus's resurrection and ascension are about as well-documented as Jack and the Beanstalk.” (The Independent)

Surprisingly, Juan Garces, British Museum Library curator of the Codex Sinaiticus Project, who should know better adds support to this popular endeavour to rewrite the story behind Easter. When he was interviewed about “the world's oldest Bible,” this is what the Associated Press article claimed:

Handwritten in Greek more than 1,600 years ago -- it isn't exactly clear where -- the surviving 400 or so pages carry a version of the New Testament that has a few interesting differences from the Bible used by Christians today.

The Gospel of Mark ends abruptly after Jesus' disciples discover his empty tomb, for example. Mark's last line has them leaving in fear.

“It cuts out the post-resurrection stories,” said Juan Garces, “That's a very odd way of ending a Gospel.”

The problem here is that Garces was commenting on one gospel; the Bible has four and the other three definitely have all the post-resurrection accounts. Unfortunately, many people have run with Garces' words and understood him to be saying the world's oldest Bible does not document the resurrection. So The Times in London reports, “Mark’s last line has them leaving in fear and makes no mention of the Resurrection.” Or a couple days after the AP news release, Irma Arkus in the Hi-Sci-Fi blog writes,

One interesting fact about Codex Sinaiticus is that one of Christian cornerstone beliefs, the story of resurrection of Jesus is not mentioned. Instead, the story simply describes disciples finding an empty burial tomb, and leaving in fear. This implies that the “resurrection” was addended by later generations of followers.

Let's be clear with the facts. The Gospels of Matthew, Luke and John in the Codex all contain resurrection and post-resurrection accounts. And the claim that the Sinaiticus Gospel of Mark does not mention the resurrection is actually false. I affirm that the Gospel ends very abruptly in the Codex Sinaiticus and in many of the oldest manuscripts, and it does not have post-resurrection accounts, but to say that it “omits” the resurrection is ridiculous. The Codex Sinaiticus records Mark 16:6 as you'll see translated below, including the words, “ηγερθη ουκ εϲτιν ωδε” translated, “He has risen! He is not here,”; you can see for yourself at the Codex Sinaiticus website. It's shoddy scholarship and sloppy journalism to report that Mark (in Codex Sinaiticus) “makes no mention of the Resurrection.”

Review Mark 16:1-8; this is TNIV Bible text, it is a translation following the Codex Sinaiticus and adds nothing not found in the Codex.

Mark 16:1 When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. 2 Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb 3 and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”
4 But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. 5 As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.
6 “Don't be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.' ”
8 Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.

Most English translated Bibles in print today  do not end here, even though the vast majority of New Testament Greek scholars agree that the oldest and best manuscripts end here. The most popular English translation, the NIV, for example, has another 12 verses which gives Mark's Gospel a smoother ending, more like we find in Matthew and Luke. However, in a footnote the NIV points out, “The earliest manuscripts and some other ancient witnesses do not have Mark 16:9-20,” which means we know conclusively that Mark did not pen this ending. His writing ends at verse 8, as quoted above. Verses 9-20 represent an early attempt to finish the story, to give Mark an ending just like Matthew and Luke. We assume that Christians were uneasy with Mark's unique and abrupt ending. I am not uneasy with it. It is my favourite Easter Sunday reading. What can we make of the authentic ending of Mark's Gospel (16:1-8)?

Well, it's ironic, isn't it? “They said nothing to anyone.” All through Mark's gospel, people are told by Jesus not to tell anyone about what he has just done, but they immediately disobey and go tell everyone! For example, Jesus heals a man: Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cleansed. Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: “See that you don't tell this to anyone." Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news. (Mark 1:43b, 44a, 45a)

We may question why Jesus frequently gave this command, why he didn't want too many people discovering who he was, why he didn't want a frenzied mob constantly pursuing him. We do know that in chapter 9, Jesus tells his disciples not to tell anyone until he had been raised from the dead. It is the death and resurrection of Jesus which makes sense of everything else Jesus did. And now, in Mark chapter 16, that time has come! Jesus has been resurrected, but the women are silent! Jesus' repeated command “Say nothing to anyone” is almost exactly what Mark says of the women, “they said nothing to anyone.” It's Mark's final irony.

Looking back at this, we know now that they did get over their fear, and they did tell the other disciples, and they were so effective at telling the disciples and followers of Jesus that over 500 of them gathered together 40 days later and saw Jesus ascend into heaven just after giving his final words to go and tell everyone. Why didn’t Mark tell the rest of the story like Matthew, Luke and John?

Why end the story unresolved as Mark does?

In what I think is an incredibly great book on reading this gospel, Mark As Story, the authors say this about the ending:

It cries out for a resolution, cries out for the hope that someone will proclaim the good news. And who is left at the end of the story to do this?
Not Jesus.
Not the disciples.
Not the women who fled the grave.
Only the readers are left to complete the story! (pg. 143)

The rest of the story depends on us, not them. Mark 1:1 claimed that this gospel was the beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah. The rest of the story is up to you and me. Just as it did not end with the fear and failure of the women, so it does not end even with our fear and failure. Jesus does not give up on us when we fail him. That’s just the beginning of the gospel, there’s more to be told! He's not finished with any of us. This great news of life in Christ will continue to change people’s lives as we share it with them, in spite of our fears and failures.

It's our turn. The Easter Redux is underway and Richard Dawkins gets better press! It's up to you and me to talk about the Resurrected Jesus and the difference he's made in our lives. In thinking about Mark's abrupt ending and the passing of the gospel torch so to speak, I was inspired to think again by a Starbucks coffee cup when I read “The Way I See It”:

There is no end to a story—it goes on indefinitely into eternity.  Every time a story is read, it’s alive and it’s different because the reader is different. 
                                              —Alice Hoffman

Related Sermon

The Rest of the Story
The ironic ending of Mark's Gospel (16:1-9) invites us to continue the story where Jesus’ first disciples left off. The gospel of Jesus Christ continues to transform lives as it is told.

There's Probably Something to Talk About

Atheists are taking it to the streets in Canada, with the Atheist Bus Campaign. Some people are outraged; the ads have been banned in Halifax, but accepted in Toronto and Calgary. For what it's worth, I was reminded of a quote from Philosophy for Dummies which claims that "Atheism is an urban phenomenon."

Global TV's new investigative journalism show, 16x9 The Bigger Picture, ran quite a good story on the bus campaign and debate. Watch it! It might give us something to talk about...

Personally, I think this bus ad campaign gives us an opportunity to discuss something more significant than the Maple Leafs losing yet another game. All too often we spend most of our social time talking about nothing that really matters. This discussion, I think, matters. And on this, it would seem that many atheists in Toronto agree with me, a Christian! In the FAQ section of their website, they give this as the reason for the bus ad campaign:

Through our ads we hope to spark conversations between believers and non-believers so that we may better understand each other and learn from one another.

That sounds reasonable to me. The ads have given me a couple opportunities to have a couple very brief conversations and I hope for more, so here I am blogging about it. Post a reply, let's dialogue.

Now some Christians are among those who are outraged about these atheist ads appearing on buses. I would encourage a more even response. Outrage over Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code only worked to make it more popular. Rage at schools reading Harry Potter books or more recently The Golden Compass books also seems misplaced. We can do better than "rage" as we respond to popular things happening around us, can't we?

A retired professor of Wycliffe College, University of Toronto, who now serves at my church as an associate priest came up with a counter-slogan to the bus ad as well as some advice:

"There probably is a God--so stop worrying, the world is not a runaway bus."

That's theologian David Reed's offering, when asked to give an alternative to the atheistic slogan that's been plastered on [buses] .... Like his slogan, the approach Reed recommends in responding to these ads is creative and non-polemical: “Don't get grouchy and defensive and reactionary; treat it much more lightly.”

I agree with him (the full article can be found here). The atheists sponsoring these bus ads want to spark conversations, not fireworks, so let's talk. Maybe we will find it helpful to better understand where they're coming from, and maybe then they too would like to hear where we're coming from. And maybe we can go there together on the TTC.

P.S. Does anybody remember the bus ad that was all over buses everywhere promoting Die Hard 4? Isn't it odd that it was never controversial? I even looked up John 6:27 before I fully clued in.