Work and Pray

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

“. . . work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” (NASB Php 2:12b–13)

Does having a business plan, using marketing strategies, or taking lessons on how to raise funds for a mission on ministry mean that we are not living in faith and trusting God? Several times in the last month, I have heard Christians indirectly talking about this question. I know people who land on both the positive and the negative side of the answer to this question. A new missionary wants to practice his “spiel” on me to see how it flows and if it will be effective in getting financial commitments. We have a discussion among faculty, and one faculty member asserts that marketing strategies demonstrate a lack of faith that we are engaged in God’s ministry and that he will provide. What are we to believe about this?

When I was a brand-new Christian, before I had read this passage in Philippians, my spiritual mentor encouraged me to “work as if everything depended on me and pray as if everything depended on God.” When I read Philippians, I had an aha! moment. I can work as if everything depended on me because God is working in me, both giving me the desire to fulfill his will and enabling me to do the work to accomplish his good pleasure.

So many times, Christians argue about whether the ultimate is one thing or another (for example, God’s sovereignty versus human responsibility, or here, works versus faith). When I read scripture, it becomes clear to me why it’s so difficult for us to reduce it to one ultimate thing. It is because the Bible teaches both. God is sovereign and we are responsible. Our salvation is by faith and we must do works as evidence of and response to that faith and salvation provided by God. We must resist the temptation to seek a single ultimate, bottom line assertion.

This verse is a great comfort to me because it assures me that I can step out in faith and use all of the gifts, resources, skills, and education that God has given me to plan, strategize, and execute these plans and strategies, knowing that it is a God at work in me, giving me these gifts, resources, skills, and education so that I may follow the desires he has implanted in me to accomplish his good pleasure. Of course, one of the gifts we must always exercise is discernment. I believe God guides us into what he would have us do, but also when and how and with whom. But as I plan and move forward, I pray and I trust God that I am moving forward in his plan.

When Dr. Sid Bradley, former dean at Charlotte and founder of the counseling program of which I’m the director, talked about utilizing psychology as a Christian counselor, he talked about the Exodus, and how the Israelites when they left Egypt, at God’s command, “plundered the Egyptians.” When we learn strategies and approaches from the world (compatible with biblical principles of living), we are plundering the Egyptians. We are taking the gold, silver, and precious jewels of the world and utilizing them for Kingdom work. So may I also encourage you to “work is if everything depends on you and pray as if everything depends on God.”

What Would It Mean to Err on the Side of Life?

By Roy Ciampa, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

In a recent debate between Republican presidential candidates, one of them defended their executive order requiring (with a parental opt-out option) adolescent girls of his state to receive the vaccine protecting against the human papilloma virus and thus some forms of cervical cancer by saying, “I will always err on the side of life.” That’s an argument that would normally resonate strongly with traditionally pro-life evangelicals. In this case it didn’t really work that well for the candidate. But it does raise the question again of what it would look like if Christians did consistently tend to err on the side of life.

But when it comes to the death penalty there is no recognition that a consistent commitment to erring on the side of life would mean recognizing that there has been a history of erring on the side of death and that that reality will continue as long as we deal with imperfect legal systems and imperfect evidence or witnesses. Why would one be prepared to err on the side of death in these cases?

In the constant attacks on the EPA one hears that the agency has a negative impact on businesses and the economy. But the EPA estimates that the changes that have been proposed “could save up to 2,500 lives,” not to mention that other negative impacts on human health and the health of the environment. Perhaps their number is inaccurate. But anyone who is committed to always erring on the side of life would have to weigh how much 2,500 lives (and further damage to the environment) might be worth in business expenses.

One presidential candidate has excoriated “Obamacare,” arguing that if his care had been entrusted to Obamacare during his recent fight with cancer he would be dead today. I confess that I find this argument (repeatedly used) outrageous, deceptive, and outrageously misleading. The point of Obamacare is not to make people who can afford better care to “settle” for something less than what they now have available. Those of us who already have good healthcare can continue to use what we have. The point is to find ways of making healthcare affordable for millions of Americans who are currently without any healthcare at all (a 2008 estimate put the number at 45.7 million people). So instead of contrasting his care under his high-end healthcare coverage with his imagination of what it would be like under Obamacare, the only appropriate comparison is one between the treatment that 45 million people would receive right now with no healthcare, and what those same people would receive under Obamacare (see the informative article on healthcare in the US on Wikipedia, where it is pointed out that ours is the “only wealthy, industrialized nation that does not ensure that all citizens have [some] coverage”). How many millions are more likely to survive under one of those scenarios than the other? In this case, what would it mean to consistently err on the side of life?

The abortion issue, which monopolized so much evangelical political involvement in recent elections, has hardly been mentioned at all this time around. But it is fascinating to me to notice the strange way in which evangelical-focused rhetoric (and rhetorical coming from some evangelicals) on various political issues relates to profound issues of life and justice. Three years ago Tony Campolo (and others) argued for an approach to consistently erring on the side of life:

[W]e should be consistently pro-life, which means that life is sacred and should be protected not only for the unborn but also for the born. This requires that there be commitments to stop wars, end capital punishment, and provide universal healthcare for all of our citizens—in addition to stopping abortions.

He referred to this as a “consistently pro-life position.” Unfortunately, in my view, Campolo’s approach to erring on the side of life hasn’t found much traction in many Christian circles either. Proverbs 18:21 reminds us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” That should be enough to motivate us to think carefully about what we do or do not say (and the critical assessment we give to what any politician says) about topics that have consequences for the lives (and deaths) of people in our nation or another.

Primitive Doesn’t Come Cheap: A Few Thoughts on Avatar

By Sean McDonough, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

In a fractious world, it is always nice to see a consensus emerge…even if it only concerns a blockbuster film. James Cameron’s much discussed Avatar has received pretty uniform reviews: great special effects (floating mountains!) and solid action sequences (a giant burning tree falls!) are balanced by a hopelessly derivative plot (Pocahontas in outer space) and a risible utopian ideology (primitive society=good/technological society=bad). The fact that most film critics (hardly a theologically orthodox bunch) seem to have been unimpressed with the movie’s shallow philosophizing was especially heartening: it was a small victory for common sense in the public square.

I would add only two points to the emerging consensus. Both of them are rich ironies lodged in the very heart of Cameron’s utopian vision. First, Cameron makes his case for the superiority of a natural, non-technological culture by using the highest of high-tech paraphernalia. The planet Pandora (Cameron is no Tolkien when it comes to name creation) is stunning to look at, but it is just an illusion; a digitized paradise that is lost the moment the projector turns off. A longing for Eden is natural enough, but we can’t simply wish ourselves back there, no matter what our CGI budget might be. There is a reason the Bible never provides a map back to the Garden. The way to God’s presence lies forward, not back.

The second point concerns Cameron’s relentless assault on capitalism, and especially on what used to be known in radical circles as “the military-industrial complex”. There is nothing particularly complex about Avatar’s portrayal of business – or at least the dirty business of obtaining Pandora’ s prize, the floating substance unobtanium (sic). Gargantuan tractors chew up most of Pandora’s flora, while military machines napalm the rest. As the remorseless capitalists firebomb the virgin forest, our hearts are meant to burn with vaguely Marxist rage.

The problem with this, though, is that Avatar cost anywhere from 250-500 million dollars to make, and I presume Cameron did not borrow the money from friends or hold an Avatar bakesale to fund the project. No, he is enmeshed in one of the most ruthlessly capitalist industries this side of Pandora, the Hollywood film machine. Consider among many angles on this Fox’ sly strategy to maximize Avatar’s profitability:

“Fox is also reportedly catching a break on the marketing side through deals with companies such as IMAX and Panasonic. And then there's also the chipmunk factor -- specifically Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel,, which opens a week after Avatar for the studio and is considered a ‘relatively safe sequel to a chipper family comedy that cost about $60 million and took in $217 million at the domestic box office when it was released two years ago.’ Thanks for the solid, Alvin!” (Scott Cellura, “How Much did Avatar Cost?” http://movies.ign.com/articles/104/1043543p1.html)

So if you want an interesting night out at the cinema, you can go ahead and see Avatar (Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel will by most accounts prove a bit disappointing). But if you want any substance, don’t turn to Cameron; you will only find yourself enmeshed in a thicket of self-contradiction.

By David Horn, ThD
Director, The Ockenga Institute

It’s like wandering through the mall. That’s the landscape of the evangelical church today in America. In our part of the country we have Nordstroms and Macys and Marshals and Sears. These are the economic pillars of the mall, the anchor stores. Surrounding these commercial behemoths is a myriad of lesser lights: bookstores, jewelry stores, electronic stores, game arcades, build-your-own-teddy bear shops, the food court.

And we have our mega-churches, churches with multi-million dollar budgets that shore up huge bureaucracies of pastors and support staff, which, in turn, facilitate layers of programs designed to meet every conceivable need of the consuming public. The vision statements of these organisms are now large enough, apparently, to encompass the future of entire countries in Africa. For better or worse, these mega-organizations now anchor our movement.

As I work with churches and pastors, I am increasingly finding that the real impact of these organizations is not limited to their obvious assets. Not only have they become bigger-than-life in real terms; they have become bigger-than-life in our minds and hearts. Whether we want to admit it or not, the mega-church has become the standard by which we define success.

It’s annoying, isn’t it? We have all heard the statistics; it seems like 50% of church attendees in America attend about 5% of our churches. And yet, in the back of our minds as pastors, as we put our new fall programs together or drag our congregations through another envisioning process or consider a new evangelism campaign for our churches, there exist the notion that this just might be the year that God does in our church what He has done in what is described on the back cover of books written by one of a few meg-pastors.

But, the cold hard reality is that for most of us in ministry, we are called to manage a Lids Store or a Hallmark card shop on the far end of the corridor, not one of the anchor stores. How do we live with this reality while seeking God’s best for the place God has called us to serve? How do we long earnestly for growth and change and renewal in settings resistant to growth and change and renewal?

Several years ago, I had an extended yearlong conversation with fifteen pastors from mainline churches around New England on the nature of renewal within their theologically compromised contexts. We met monthly to discuss what it would take to change the climate and attitudes of congregations in need of spiritual renewal.

After our yearlong conversation, we summarized our time together into sixteen precepts that describe what it takes to turn a church around. I have wondered more recently whether many of these precepts relate equally to small, struggling evangelical churches as well. Here they are:

16 Precepts for Turning a Church Around

1. “Called to obedience, not success.”

2. “Longevity matters.”

3. “There will be a point of crisis. Get through it.”

4. “Look for the remnant.”

5. “Old guard, new guard: It’s a matter of critical mass.”

6. “What’s more important: bylaws or vision statement?”

7. “Leadership is generational.”

8. “De-code the battle: personality or theology.”

9. “Conserve your energy” or “Choose your battles carefully.”

10. “Finding the thread that leads to renewal in YOUR church.”

11. “Sometimes the point of absolute death is the point of opportunity.”

12. “Wheat and Tares: Evangelism within.”

13. “Patience, patience, (gasp), patience.”

14. “Renewal: A never-ending story.”

15. “Know when to leave.”

16. “It’s not ultimately you. It’s the Spirit!”

As I have overheard pastors talk about their churches in more recent years, I would add to the above sixteen the further observation that churches are oh-so-very-fragile creatures. In the current marketplace economy of congregational life in America, I am continuously amazed at how quickly churches can loose their momentum. Whether through conflict or through more subtle attrition, seemingly vital churches loose their vitality. It is only through God’s grace and power that our churches--flawed as they may be—become renewable resources for His greater glory.