FAITH HOUSE Manhattan

Four Stories of God

~ by Samir Selmanovic

For more than 20 years since my baptism (a ritual by which one signals publicly that one has become a follower), people have often given me the opportunity to “tell my story”—to “give a testimony,” as we Christians like to call it. Despite the fact that my life with God was not only passionate but also conflicted and complicated, the story itself was easy to tell. It was all one story. One life. One song. 

But it is not that easy anymore. Today, as early Hasidic Rav Kook did long ago, I find myself wondering which song I should sing. Should I look into my own soul and sing the song of the struggles and joys I encounter within? Or should I move beyond myself and sing the song of my people, my religion? Or maybe I should rise above my Christian story and sing a song of all songs of humanity? Or should I spread my heart still wider and sing a song with all creation?

Is the story of God a story of my own soul, a story of my religion, a story of humanity or a story of all that is? To accept all these stories as the stories of God is to imply that my religion then becomes only a part of the ultimate story of the world, not the ultimate story itself.

Orthodox rabbi David Hartman, concerned with the perennial conflict in Jerusalem, insists that different melodies of one God must be cherished: “Each group feels that its way is the only way: there is one God, therefore there has to be one truth. Christians build their story on the Jewish story and therefore feel they are inheritors of Judaism. Muslims built their story on the Bible, and therefore they feel that they are the perfect expression of monotheism. Now, we’ve got to get out of each other’s story. We can’t feel that in order for me to tell my story, your story has to end. . . . In other words, affirmation [of my story] does not require that I demonise those who are different from me. I don’t have to build conviction out of hate and fear.” If my identity depends on annihilation of other stories, I cannot really sing all four songs of God.

What if God measures our religion by the way it contributes to stories other than one’s own? What if our religions will be judged by the good they bring to their non-adherents? Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel says this succinctly: “When in the afterglow of religious insight I can see a way that is good for all humans as it is for me—I will know it is His way.”

In the same vein, The Quran reads, “Had God willed He would have made you into one religious community; but it was his will to test you in what He gave you. So compete with each other in doing good works” (Quran 5:48). Seyyed Hossein Nasr of George Washington University contends that “there’s no more crucial problem for our day than to be able to cross religious frontiers while preserving our own integrity. In fact, I think this the only exciting intellectual adventure of our times.”

So I find it hard to “give a testimony” today without offending people of my own religion whose identity depends on a divided and conflicted world. As a follower of Christ, I have grown to believe in a world that is larger than Christianity. Jesus called this larger world the kingdom of God. It is the symphony made of all stories, individual and communal, our magnanimous God is involved with in this world.

Only God is God. And Christianity is not. Nor Judaism. Nor Islam. Paradoxically, this realization about the greatness of God is a deeply Christian, Jewish and Muslim teaching.

When I pray the Lord’s Prayer, I begin with the first word, “Our . . .” (see Matthew 6:9) and I stop and ask myself, “Who do I include in this Our?” I remind myself that the story of God is bigger than my personal story, bigger than the story of my religion, bigger than the story of all humanity, and bigger than the story of all creation. In the kingdom of God, these four stories are all really my stories—all at the same time—woven together, giving meaning and life to each other.

(from Signs of the Times, Australia, September 2007, adapted by the author)

Faith House Writing Awarded

~ by Nathan Brown

An article written for the Faith House website has been awarded by a Christian publication in Australia. "A Letter to the Three Friends I Wish I Had" by Roy Naden was awarded the Hindson Award for "Best devotional article" in Record in 2007. The article was originally posted on the Faith House web site on March 6, 2007, and was reprinted in Record with permission of Dr Naden and Faith House.

The Record editors' comments with the award read as follows:

"As one of our editorial team commented after reading this article at the time of its publication, 'That article made me want to become a better person.' Now retired, Dr Naden reflected on his working years, both professionally and personally, and expressed regrets for some of the opportunities and friendships missed, before committing to using his remaining years to make the world a better place and support younger people who are now trying to live in a different way."

Dr Naden is originally from Australia, but in retirement lives in Seattle area, Washington. Record is the weekly news magazine of Adventist Church for the South Pacific region, based in Melbourne, Australia.

NOTE: To read "A Letter to the Three Friends I Wish I Had" click HERE.

Seeking Good in Good News

~ by James Mills, a husband, father, member of the Emergent Village coordinating group, and pastor of a newly forming community of faith called Straight Street Commons in Colorado, blogging as Ecclesial Dreamer

Almost two thousand years ago, a man was breaking out of his cocoon of faith in pursuit of a more excellent way. He is remembered by many as an Apostle and Evangelist for the Christian faith. But certainly Paul would not have thought of himself as a Christian in the same way we think of Christianity today. Equally lamentable is the fact that the Good News Paul proclaimed has become so transformed into a narrow reflection of what it once was that it leads many who encounter it in its current form to ask, “What's so good about it?”

As a pastoral steward who stands in the Christian tradition I have not always been comfortable with that question. I find that one of the most challenging obstacles to answering this query is that many in my own tradition have taken ownership of faith in such a way that insights from other traditions have been completely excluded from the process. While the entrance of Jesus Christ into human history was originally proclaimed by heavenly host to be “good news for all people,” some have attempted to make it applicable only to a select few. Some have mistakenly come to believe that faith as a communal way of life can only be experienced within our carefully controlled belief systems. In the process we not only expect all people to become like us, but we fail to open ourselves to the redemptive influence of those who are not like us.

When we close ourselves to the other it affects all of our senses. We refuse to acknowledge the diverse scents and flavors found in other cultures and as a result we cannot honestly “taste and see that God is good.” We lose our ability to see the good in those who our own faith tells us are image bearers of God. We reach but fail to touch (or, even worse, to be touched). Thinking we are the only melody of faith, we no longer hear the harmonious voice of the Holy. To those who are seeking Good News it is painfully obvious that something has gone tragically wrong. It is easy to understand why many feel alone or believe that such a community of Good News in our moment of history is seemingly impossible.

Through my involvement with the coordinating group of Emergent Village I have met people who give me reason to hope for my community in Parker, Colorado. People like Samir Selmanovic and communities like Faith House Manhattan are creating spaces for people to seek Good News together. These people take the call to be ambassadors of reconciliation seriously and remind us that it is not good for independent subsections of mankind to make the journey alone.

As we dream together I am beginning to welcome the question, “What’s so good about the Good News?” This change of heart did not come about because I have the answer, but because I am confident that when we ask this question together we discover things we cannot find on our own. Most times, even as you are seeking Good News for your own journey, others discover that you have plenty of your own to contribute. If you have not yet found a place to share it with others, I encourage you to start right here, right now. Leave a comment on the Faith House website and join in the task of exploring, creating, and learning with a community who needs you as much as you need them. I know they will be happy to participate in your conversation. Together you will discover Good News and might come to share these hope filled words of Vaclav Havel:

“We must not be afraid to dream the seemingly impossible
if we want the seemingly impossible to become a reality.”

The Hole in How We Do It

~ by Nathan Brown, author, Editor (Signs of the Times, Australia / New Zealand)

How we connect our beliefs with our everyday lives and how we connect our beliefs with the lives of those around us in ways that make sense to them and to us, must be a constant challenge to our faith.

And it is in this aspect of Christian religious practice that it seems we have a growing hole. I think for many believers we are victims of history—the history of our belief system itself and of changing social attitudes and beliefs. And it is our success in meeting the challenges of previous generations that has left us exposed when trying to connect in the present.

My faith tradition began in a time and place in which the majority of the population were practicing, church-going Christians of one variety or another. In this environment, the emerging faith community focused on demonstrating to other Christians why some aspects of their traditional faith were not in accord with the teachings of the Bible. We didn’t always convince them, but at least we could engage in a worthwhile discussion and they would have some understanding of our point of view.

In the 20th century, our tradition—and Christianity generally—faced new frontiers. With the growing acceptance of evolutionary theory and atheism, we felt the need to employ scientific methodology to describe our faith and to bolster the foundations of our beliefs. We readily employed the rationality of Christian apologetics and the science of creationism to challenge the assumptions of non-believers. We didn’t always convince them, but at least we could engage in a spirited debate and at least had a hearing for our views.

Today, both these “strategies” have their place and their appropriate audiences. But as the audiences most receptive to these approaches diminish in many societies around the world, the hole in how we do this grows. With an increased interest in spirituality but a declining interest in formal religion, the majority of the population has shifted away from both entrenched Christianity and avowed atheism. This same shift has also been seen as our faith tradition has expanded into non-Western cultures in which these two extremes are not necessarily mirrored.

Reflecting on both of these approaches, it seems we have always been good at telling others how and why they are wrong. In looking for a new approach, perhaps we need to learn to tell others how and why they are right, to share and celebrate their faltering steps toward spirituality as they share and celebrate ours. We bring our treasured beliefs and lifestyle and demonstrate the value and meaning these bring to our lives. At the same time and without compromising our own beliefs, we respect and recognise the meaning others find in the understandings they bring.

This is a challenge, but the scope of our understanding and concern gives a breadth of commonality with a wide variety of people and communities. And from this threshold of shared beliefs, hopes, and life practices, we can set off as fellow pilgrims, trusting the strength of our distinct beliefs and the power of God working in our lives to lead us to a greater understanding of His goodness and purposes in our lives and our world. “His purpose in all of this was that the nations should seek after God and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him—though he is not far from any one of us” (Acts 17:27, NLT).

Pitching Our Tents

~ by Ryan Bell who is the Senior Pastor of the Hollywood Seventh-day Adventist Church and is currently completing his Doctor of Ministry in Missional Leadership at Fuller Theological Seminary. You can read his blog, Intersections at www.ryanjbell.net

Why should Christians participate in the Faith House Project? I believe that Jews, Muslims, atheist, and others will each generate solid reasons for their participation. Such reasons will be rooted in their story/worldview. For us Christians, it is the incarnation that can most powerfully and creatively shape our imagination towards an answer.

For generations missionaries from the West (the US, UK, Australia & New Zealand) have entered communities of people profoundly different from themselves. These missionaries were taught to enter these communities as learners. This learning encompassed everything from language to food to social norms. Our short hand for this is “culture.” In short, these missionaries knew they were entering a world of which they had almost no understanding. As they learned about the people to whom God had sent them they were engaging the profound theological practice of “paying attention” – paying attention to God’s Spirit, being attentive to their own hearts and souls, and watching for evidence of God’s initiatives in the community.

Naturally, missionary engagements almost never went that smoothly. The modern missionary movement has become known for its arrogance and colonialism. Nevertheless, missiologists and responsible missionaries the world over know that they must be, at some level, anthropologists as well as theologians.

We have assumed that a learning posture toward our own native culture is unnecessary. After all, this is our home. However, as the world has come to us (especially in the urban centers) and the social fabric of Western societies has worn thin and come apart, we find ourselves in a vastly different world than that of our parents and grandparents. The realities of this changed world have led some authors to declare, “The Sky Is Falling” (for a more extensive treatment see Alan Roxburgh’s book by that title on this website).

In the midst of the church’s confusion about its place in this unhinged world, we are (or should be) driven back to our core narratives. And, at the very outset of those narratives we find the story of God showing up in our world at the most unlikely time and the most unlikely place. Theologians call this the Incarnation – divine become human. St. John said this about this mystery: “The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood.”

So, the primary mission question of our time is, can we live among the people of our neighborhoods? Can we “pitch our tent” in the pluralistic village as a neighbor and learner without coming with all the answers in our pocket? Can we open ourselves to the possibility of learning as much from our neighbors as they will learn from us? My contention is that much that has passed for evangelism and/or mission work in the US and elsewhere has been shaped more by a colonial than by an incarnational imagination. It’s high time we have our imaginations shaped by the story of God’s missionary encounter with us.

Why then should we participate in the Faith House project? First, to learn and to receive, and then perhaps to teach and to give.