Grace vs. Truth

I am currently reading Dan Kimball's book that is making a splash right now--They Like Jesus but Not the Church. (Even as a devout Christian, I can connect with that title--the Church can often frustrate and infuriate me to a degree nothing else can!) Overall, I've been pretty impressed with Dan's ability and commitment to understand both his Christian reader and the non-Christian acquaintances whom he interviewed for the book. In earlier chapters, he was even adept at speaking to both more conservative and more progressive church leaders, particularly in the chapter on the treatment of women--he argued his points in an intelligent way that would be useful to both "complementarian" and "egalitarian" congregations (that is, those who only allow women to teach women and children, and those who believe women can also be called into the same preaching and teaching roles as men).

As I'm now in later chapters, I'm disagreeing with some of the things he says, but those issues aren't the point of this post. I want to talk about something Dan says while discussing how church leaders can compassionately reach out to homosexual persons. "Church leaders need to find a balance between grace and truth," he says, arguing that pastors should present their views on homosexuality without being legalistic or overtly condemning. I understand that Kimball strongly believes that homosexuality is unequivocally wrong, and thus "the truth" equals the "your lifestyle and love are sinful." His definition of grace, then, would be a message of "we are all sinners and in need of God's forgiveness." The question that immediately came screaming to mind: Can grace and truth really be at cross-purposes?

If religious truth is defined as God's message to humanity, wouldn't grace be truth itself? How can there be such thing as a balancing act between grace and truth when the ultimate truth is that God loves us all, and that we should do likewise? Shouldn't the truth that church leaders express to people (even those whom they believe are committing more egregious sins that the rest of us) be the truth of grace?

I know that the flaw of my argument here is that many church leaders would not define the ultimate truth of God as love, but rather as righteousness, and I actually think in that flaw lies the answer to my original question. We all have our own understanding of truth, and chances are, none of us has it exactly right. (That's why I use little-T-truth, because I don't think any of us can fully grasp God's big-T-Truth in this earthly life). So, with our limited human understanding, there may very well be a gap between our understanding of truth and our expression of grace (as Dan implies), but I hope that when faced with this choice, we'll choose to err on the side of grace.

Florez: Music to Theologically-Reflective Ears

I spend two hours a day in my car, now that we live so far from my workplace in downtown Nashville. It’s not so bad, though, since I am a person who needs a lot of alone-time, and since I’ve always been an unabashed car-singer. I’m the one rocking out in the VW next to you at the stoplight. The last few days, I’ve been listening to my favorite album by a band that got its start at Furman University while I was there—Florez, their second album In Flight, released in 2005. Florez is led by Alex Florez, a fellow religion major of the Class of 2003. He and I even proofed one another’s term papers for our senior seminar. I wish I still had a copy of it to sell on eBay when they get really big.

The personal connection is very cool, but they’re also just really talented musicians. I didn’t personally know the other band members, though I ran into one of them at the post office one day, now that they’re based in Nashville, and we recognized each other as fellow Paladins. Their songs are witty and energetic, eclectic rock with elements of bluegrass (thanks to the electric-banjo), Latin, and hip-hop thrown in. What I really love, though, are the religious references and imagery throughout. Take the song Behold, for example, which is about human fallibility (AKA sin):

He’s who saved us from our troubles in the first place
Like when the serpent dangled fruit in front of her face
He’s the last one standing even in the worst case
But his promise is to help you forget just how bad this curse tastes

While the above lyrics seem to adhere to a very orthodox doctrine of original-sin, most of the imagery they use is reflective of a imaginative and deeply passionate Christian spirituality. I sense that in many ways, they are responding to the brand of extreme conservativism professed by some of the dominant Christian groups at Furman, while Alex's outstanding education in religion and theology is evident throughout. Consider the song Live Instead, which objects to many Christians’ obsession with the afterlife. The chorus expresses the beautiful irony of atonement and communion.

Eat the bread and drink the wine
Partake the fruit of the vine
Drink the wine and eat the bread
Swallow death and live instead

Later in that song is a verse so obviously inspired by a downside of the Furman experience—the fact that more moderate or liberal Christians were essentially considered non-Christians, and real dialogue between more conservative and more liberal Christians was difficult, if not non-existent.

I’ve heard your sermons and all of your philosophies
And I won’t forget ‘em ‘cause you just won’t stop accosting me
I’m done hearing your lessons until you end your condescension
And agree to sit across from me and talk to me
And try to get along with me
Admit you’re not alone in trying to plant the sowing seed
But your pedestal’s so high that I just won’t be surprised
If the air up there gets too thin and it’s hard for you to breathe


The last song I want to mention is Forgiving You, which originally was not one of my favorite songs musically, and I initially assumed it was about an interpersonal relationship. As I’ve listened to the lyrics more closely, though, I think it is about man forgiving God for ways he’s been hurt by the church or other things for which he blamed God, and not only that, but I think the song is two-sided, in that parts may also be from God’s perspective, forgiving man. In any case, I think it’s an intense song of reconciliation. Anyone who knows this song want to throw his or her two cents in?

That’s the end of my review/viral marketing effort. Bottom line, Florez is treat for the mind and soul as well as the ears, and a must-listen for theologically reflective people and music-lovers everywhere.