Last week at the theology reading group we discussed Forming Christian Communities in a Secular Age: Recovering Humility and Hope by Tim Dickau.
Three narratives are inter-weaved throughout the book: the personal, the congregational, and the socio-structural. Dickau describes his recent recovery from burnout and alcohol abuse after three decades as pastor of Grandview Church in Vancouver, Canada. During this time the church moved from a declining "commuter" church to a vibrant and creative community that was engaged with and in solidarity with its local neighbourhood. This led to significant relationships with marginalised neighbours, including the homeless, refugees, and the poor. In collaboration with local community organisations, the church birthed several social enterprises, including converting the church parking lot into a low-income housing project.
The more theoretical dimension of the book is the analysis of the social secular character of large cities in the Western world. Here there is substantial engagement with the philosopher Charles Taylor and his books, This Secular Age (2007) and Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (1989). Dickau also engages with the theologians William Cavanaugh and Willie James Jennings.
With regard to secularism, it is important to be clear on terminology. Taylor considers three distinct forms of secularism, focusing on the third form.
Moreover, both belief and non-belief have become optional, contested, and pressured so that believers and non-believers alike are “fragilized,” where expressions of both belief and unbelief are regularly challenged and therefore not as
certain (20–27). In this new age, we all live with “cross-pressures”
(15), where any believer, atheist, or anything in-between will be challenged by sensible people who think differently
Taylor defines the social imaginary as “. . . the way ordinary people imagine their social surroundings, and this is often not expressed in theoretical terms, it is carried in images, stories, and legends.” (172).
The social imaginary for this secular age is an immanent frame that by assumption precludes any role for transcendence. Dickau helpfully calls this "functional atheism," suggesting that today many clergy and church members operate within a framework where everything is framed, even if subconsciously, in terms of human action. This is reflected in church "business" meetings, strategic plans, policies and procedures that are strikingly similar to those of modern business corporations.
I greatly appreciate this book. Dickau embodies honesty and humility. It is written by someone who has spent decades in the trenches and does not shy away from the complexity and messiness of life, ministry, mission, community, politics, and relationships. Dickau is able to weave the three narratives (personal, communal, socio-structural) together with some synergy, as each one increases the credibility of the others.
I found three ideas in the book personally challenging. The greatest challenge was realising the extent that which I operate in an immanent frame. Too often I am a functional atheist.
The discussions about racism draw on the writing of Willie Jennings and Grandview's engagement with First Nations people issues locally and nationally. I need to wrestle with this issue more.
Dickau advocates a commitment to place, i.e., a local neighbourhood. This stability is counter-cultural and necessary for lasting change. Will I make such a commitment? My wife and I are aiming for that through our involvement with Village Mosaix, as part of Village Church in Brisbane.
Here are some specific things that I appreciate about the book.
a. Dickau's honesty and vulnerability could be a wake-up call for many church leaders. Many tend to "workaholism" and some congregations enable this. These issues resonate with those identified by Pete Scazzero in Emotionally Healthy Church.
b. The descriptions of Grandview activities provide concrete models that may inspire other churches to emulate, provided there is sufficient adaptation to local context. Dickau stresses this latter point. I was inspired by the account of how the activities of Kinbrace in refugee advocacy did not just help some in the local neighbourhood but eventually led to changes in Canadian government policies and procedures.
c. Seeking the welfare of the city. Seek the common good. Dickau is inspired by Jeremiah 29. This goes against the natural tendency of churches to be like most human institutions and to be parochial and inward-looking. [Although I agree with the conclusion, I would like to see this concern with the common good, justified by some New Testament passages.]
d. Practical care for the marginalised.
e. Grandview fosters creativity. This is done by tapping into the energy, gifts, experience, and passions of the laity.
f. Respect for tradition without slavery to it. Grandview is a Baptist church, but was once characterised as "Bapto-Catholic". It does not appear to be constrained by narrow denominationalism.
g. Beyond an individualistic Gospel and mission. Confession, repentance, and action need to be at the individual, corporate (congregational), and systemic levels. This is integral mission. I appreciate this for two reasons. Foremost, this is how mission is presented in the Bible, from ancient Israel to the early church, as nicely documented by Chris Wright. Second, as a scientist who studies emergence in complex systems, I often argue that issues, whether mental health or poverty alleviation, must be addressed at multiple levels, from the individual to the societal.
Although there is much to admire about the book, here are a few reservations.
Is the book too Taylor-centric?
I am no expert on Taylor, having only read the potted version, How (not) to be secular by James K.A. Smith. I greatly admire Taylor, particularly because as a distinguished academic, A Secular Age, has created waves in the academy, particularly in the humanities and social sciences. Nevertheless, I have many questions and concerns about Taylor and the amount of authority he is given. Taylor is a philosopher, not a historian or a social scientist. I wonder whether the historical narrative is really as simple as he presents. Similarly, I wonder if secularisation is actually thicker, more complex, and diverse than Taylor presents, particularly when one considers multi-cultural neighbourhoods. As a Catholic, does Taylor lay too much "blame" on the Reformation for fostering secularism and destroying enchantment?
Is Taylor wistful for a former age, such as Christendom? Does his work foment the desires of those who pine for an earlier age that actually may never have existed? Does it feed the fantasies of those who want to "Make America Great Again"?
Arguably, secularisation, in some of its forms, is not always bad. Sometimes maybe it is the best, albeit imperfect, solution to a complex problem for democracies in pluralistic societies. It has kept at bay religious wars, theocracies, and kept pseudo-sciences such as young-earth creationism and Vedic "science" out of public school systems.
Given these concerns is Taylor really essential to the arguments of the book? Could we get to the same point as Dickau, with regard to missiology and ecclesiology, by just going back to the radical teachings of Jesus and the radical lifestyle of the early church? In some ways, Dickau does head in this direction when he discusses the potential of the "new monasticism" movement.
A problematic identification of "the powers of this dark world"?
Two thousand years of church history might suggest that Christians are not good at cultural analysis, particularly with regard to identifying what elements of their current culture is a result of the work of God's Spirit, or of Satan, or of human rebellion, or the "spiritual forces of evil." Perhaps indicative of the lack of nuance is the three options presented by Reinhold Niebuhr in his highly influential Christ and Culture: Christ in Culture, Christ against Culture, and Christ above Culture.
Dickau identifies the following "powers of our secular age": individualism, consumerism, economic globalisation, racism, inequality, and the human-induced climate crisis.
I agree that all of these are important issues. I am very concerned about each and all can embody evil. But, I am nervous about having a completely negative characterisation of the first three "powers." Subtlety is needed. For example, consider globalisation. I agree that globalisation has had many negative consequences. But, one can argue that it has lifted hundreds of millions of people, especially in India and China, out of poverty. I do lament the corrosive effect of individualism on the West. However, it's opposite, communitarianism can also have negative effects. Consider a young Asian woman is living in the West. She may be positive about the individual freedom she has to change her religion, choose her spouse, and employment.
The Bible presents an ambivalent picture of money, sex, power, authority, freedom, knowledge, speech, and emotions. They are neither intrinsically good nor evil. Thus, it is reasonable to be ambivalent about culture and institutions, whether in science, technology, government, education, military, or business. Each can be a good gift from God that can be used to bless others. Each can also be distorted and twisted by sin (individual, corporate, and structural). They can then be used as instruments of violence, oppression, slavery, and idolatry.
Charles Ringma pointed out to our group that Karl Barth was ambivalent about the nation-state. Perhaps this is surprising because Barth experienced the nation-state in the evil form of Nazi Germany.
There is an essay "Karl Barth’s theological politics", by David Haddorf, that was published as a new introduction to Community, State and Church: Three Essays, by Karl Barth. Haddorf states.
Barth develops a political perspective based entirely upon God’s action in and through the revelation of the Word of God. His commitment to the word of God led him to be a dialectical thinker moving between absolute Yes and No, between absolute positive or negative views of the state, between absolute Christian claims of the legitimacy of the state and anarchial denial of legitimacy, between Marxist socialism and free-market capitalism, and between right-wing nationalism and left- wing revolutionary politics.
Similarly, I embrace a good-bad dialectic with regard to much that our complex world presents. Holding the concepts of Creation and Fall together presents a paradox. They must be held in tension. On the one hand, the created world is good. On the other hand, it is corrupted and “groans for redemption.” (Romans 8:19-22). This is a world of sin, death, disease, natural disasters, and of altruism. Common grace is everywhere. On the one hand, humans bear the image of God, including innate rationality, relationality, morality, and spirituality. On the other hand, this image has been marred by sin. Paul’s personal moral struggles (Romans 7:23) also reflect the human paradox. It requires great wisdom and discernment to correctly identify any specific human activity as a power aligned with the forces of darkness.
Unfortunately, hard copies of the book are only available in Canada. I do hope this will change soon as the book deserves a global readership. Electronic (Kindle) copies can be bought on Amazon.
To complement reading the book I recommend an interview with Dickau in a recent podcast episode.
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