Thoughts on conversionism

There are a couple unhelpful ways of thinking, or even errors, common amongst American evangelicals which presbyterians would do well to avoid.

First is an overemphasis on a conversion experience. Several people in the Bible clearly have a conversion experience (such as the Philippian jailer), by which I mean that at one time they were not Christians, and then became Christians. However, that’s certainly not the case with everyone in the Bible, not even in the New Testament. (Timothy seems just such an example.) Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with having a conversion experience. It should be equally obvious that there’s nothing wrong with not having a conversion experience. Unfortunately, overemphasis on the importance of a conversion experience has led some to question whether they truly have been saved, and that should not be. As I remember someone telling me sometime ago, “It doesn’t matter when you became a Christian; all that matters is whether you’re trusting in Christ rignt now!”

Secondly, some appear to think that genuine Christians do not sin, or at least do not commit particularly unpleasant sins. That may not be their doctrine, but that is their assumption when they question whether a particularly heinous sinner (or just someone who one finds unpleasant) is "really a Christian." The Bible does not teach us to think or talk this way. Peter confessed Jesus as the Christ, and then committed what was probably the worst sin of his life: denying Jesus during his trial. The simple truth is that Christians are perfectly capable of not acting very Christian, but that, by itself, is not evidence they are not converted. Faith in Christ is the only thing that makes one a Christian.

I think of chapter 18.4 of our Confession of Faith: “True believers may have the assurance of their salvation divers ways shaken, diminished, and intermitted; as, by negligence in preserving of it, by falling into some special sin which wounds the conscience and grieves the Spirit; by some sudden or vehement temptation, by God's withdrawing the light of His countenance, and suffering even such as fear Him to walk in darkness and to have no light: yet are they never so utterly destitute of that seed of God, and life of faith, that love of Christ and the brethren, that sincerity of heart, and conscience of duty, out of which, by the operation of the Spirit, this assurance may, in due time, be revived; and by the which, in the meantime, they are supported from utter despair."

A related thought has occurred to me as I’ve thought about my own life. There was a period of time when I did not act like a Christian, and claimed not to believe in God. But I was baptized as an infant, and certainly did believe in God before that time. I wandered in sin, but then again professed saving faith. If I were to say I did was not really a Christian prior to that spiritual renewal, what would that say about God? That would seem to imply that he was not part of my life at all before that time, that his Spirit had done no work in my baptism despite my childhood faith, and that he did not seek after me as a shepherd after a lost sheep. It would seem to imply that I was saved because I chose to believe again, not because the Lord was more faithful to my baptism than was I. In other words, to deny that I was a Christian for some portion of my life seems to me to detract from the magnitude of the Lord’s grace in my life, and therefore to take away some of the glory which is rightfully his.

The Hon. Steve Hogan

Steve Hogan, mayor of my hometown of Aurora, Colorado, died yesterday. He went fast; it was only two months ago he announced he had cancer. I didn't know him well, but he struck me as a kind and decent man. 

When my Cub Scout den was required to visit a public official, I found the mayor's e-mail address on the Aurora government website. I was surprised that he personally replied to my request, given that Aurora is the 54th largest city in these United States. He took it upon himself to meet my Cub Scouts on a Monday evening and personally gave us a tour of the city council chambers, the municipal building, and his office. He was patient with my boys, who seemed most interested in a candy dish.

I'm sorry he's gone. We need more of his sort in high office and public life.

Regarding "American War"

American War: A Novel by Omar El Akkad. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2017. Clothbound, 352 pages.

For me, reading American War was an exercise in cognitive dissonance. Though Omar El Akkad's intended audience clearly includes Americans, he is not a citizen of these United States, and so his depiction of our future is designed to make us reconsider our world's present, not my nation's past. I, however, have only ever been an American, steeped in reflection on our history and the meaning of the Civil War since high school, and so a novel about the Second Civil War must read, for me, as a commentary on my nation's past.

By 2075, rising waters have drastically altered this country's geographical and political landscapes, driving coastal populations inland and the nation's capital to Columbus. South Carolina, as is its wont, threatened secession and so was subjected to a viral agent by the national government which led to a quarantine of the entire state. Mississippi, Georgia and Alabama actually did secede, with Louisiana and east Texas hotly contested. Secession's pretext, apparently, was the criminalization of fossil fuels, but one gets the impression it had just as much to do with all our old grievances.

That's where my cognitive dissonance settled in. The politics of American War have enough echoes of our past that I kept looking for analogies to the 1860s. However, El Akkad tells a story of refugees and radicalization, presumptuous interference by foreign governments, and the cultivation and molding of terrorists. In other words, he tells the story of the wars America has created in the rest of the world, particularly the Middle East. He sets it in my country, apparently, in order to draw from us a deeper sympathy than we might otherwise give to persons from foreign lands with foreign-sounding names.

Read that latter way, it's a fairly effective book. The dialogue is a little clunky, and I think he failed to get inside the heads of his female characters in a believable way. At the same time, all his characters and their choices make sense, including the one who commits the worst terrorist attack in history. I was reminded of the inherent offensiveness of the American presumption that we may interfere in other nation's affairs in order to gain what our leaders think to be an advantage. 

Despite what one of our presidents liked to say, they don't hate us because of our freedoms. They hate us because we've colonized their countries. If you don't understand that, then maybe it's time for you to read American War.

"The Who's Tommy" at the DCPA

I may be the only person introduced to the Who by Pete Townshend's solo work, but that's what happens when your parents' musical tastes run toward West Coast cool jazz and show tunes and you're the oldest kid in your family. My attention was caught by tracks from The Iron Man: The Musical on Washington D.C.'s classic rock station; when I bought the album, I found the Who's tracks less interesting than Pete Townshend's performance of "A Friend Is a Friend." I went on, as only an obsessed teenager can, to collect all his solo albums and carefully analyze and annotate every song. It was only after some years that I decided I should probably pay some heed to the music he wrote for his band as well.

Tommy needs no explanation (and there's no point explaining it to the people who might need it explained). The Who's legendary concept album has again been revived as a stage musical, this time by the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. Theatre Companion and I found cheap tickets and so brought along Thing 1 for a show the other night; the latter is now at the perfect age (14) to be introduced to the incomparable rock'n'roll genius of Pete Townshend, and was appropriately impressed by the music and lyrics. Tommy's plot, while convoluted, is relatively easy to follow. At the same time, its philosophical points are comprehensible only through a close reading via the lens of the rather incomprehensible Meher Baba, so I had no concerns that Thing 1 might be led down the perfidious path of eastern mysticism.

As Thing 1 observed, this production of Tommy is better characterized as an opera than a musical, as there are only a few lines of spoken dialogue. Some of the album's songs were dropped, while others were rewritten or given additional lyrics to better fit this version of the story. I had no complaints on that front other than with "1921," which makes no sense in that this production is set after World War II, whereas the original was set after World War I. (During "1921," I was so confused that I though I must have been misunderstanding the actors. I wasn't.)

Once one gets past the fact that one is watching a musical, rather than listening to the Who, the performances in this production are uniformly strong. The three actors playing Tommy at different ages appeared together on stage more than once, enabling the audience to participate in Tommy's hallucinatory take on his reality. Given my druthers, I'd have preferred to see the musicians, who were hidden from view. I imagine they might have distracted from the action, but I find it exceedingly difficult to listen to "Pinball Wizard" without watching a guitarist.

This production of Tommy proves the material's strength: one need not be a fan of the Who in order to be thoroughly impressed.