Worldview and lifestyle: What do you really believe?

Every once in a while I try to think about the connections between the different aspects of classic Christianity I blog about — between theology and spiritual disciplines, usually, although sometimes between different aspects of theology. One of the common teachings we find in books about worldview is that our worldview shapes how we live.

If this is true, most of us are atheists, materialists, and deniers of hell.

In the last point, I think David Bentley Hart once pointed out that if other Christians really believed in the hell of everlasting punishment that they profess, they wouldn’t waste any of their time, would they? Wouldn’t Hart’s intellectual opponents be out on the street preaching, giving away their money to mission work, turning conversations to evangelism, that as many would be saved as possible?

But most Christians don’t live like that, don’t live with any urgency that hell is an immediate possibility for ourselves and our neighbours.

In his cutting book, The Golden Cow, John White (author of the children’s fantasy The Tower of Geburah as well as several non-fiction Christian books for adults) says there are two kinds of materialist. There are the secular materialists who say that matter is all that is. And there are those who say that matter is all that matters. Many evangelical Christians, he contends, fall into this second category. We live the same lives as our neighbours. We strive for more money, for more comfort, etc., etc.

For most of daily life, most of us are what I’ve heard called “practical atheists”. We do not live as though the God of the Universe indwells us, as though any insignificant event may actually have eternal significance. We hardly set aside time for prayer. When we make non-moral decisions, we usually simply choose what is easiest or what we like best, not what is most spiritually beneficial. That latter may require discernment — but how many of us even try to discern anything in our lives?

So, if worldview impacts lifestyle, most of us don’t really believe Gospel, do we?

I, myself, attach my mind quite easily to high ideals. Nevertheless, having read Cassian and Jeremy Taylor about gluttony, I still sat down the other day and drank a bottle of sugary pop and ate 125 g of gummy candies. High ideals are nice unless I actually have to change how I live, right?

My main problems are probably acedia — listless despondency — and not even wanting this enough. That is to say, when it actually comes upon me that I should make some sort of decision for spiritual discipline rather than ease, acedia comes upon me. I feel tired. I feel soooo weary so much of the time. I do not wish to add another burden. So prayer, Scripture reading, disciplined eating …. these are set aside. Just for now. Don’t worry — I’ll do it tomorrow.

Some people say a Rule of Life is a cure for this. (Obviously besides the Holy Spirit seizing us.) Maybe that. Probably also community and spiritual friendship.

I’m thinking about how to make a Rule of Life, so maybe you’ll hear from me on that before too long.

What do you think? How can we cure our practical atheism in comfortable western Christianity?

Greater things than these! (John 14:12 & Demonology)

This morning, I read Luke 8:26-39.  This is Luke’s telling of the famous story where Jesus encounters a demoniac in “the country of the Gerasenes” possessed by “Legion” — ie. approximately 6000 unclean spirits.  I have been trying my own little form of Lectio Divina with my daily Bible readings, anointing the time with prayer and reading the passages reflectively.  And there I saw Christ casting out so many demons, setting free the mind of a man that was held in bondage.

I have written before about whether a (post)modern person can believe in demons.  Psychologist John White, in The Masks of Melancholy, seems to think we can even when recognising that so much mental illness is not the work of unclean spirits.  Yet I think even the de-mythologisers of Scripture would have to admit than something mighty happened here (unless they choose to dismiss the story as fairytale nonsense) — Christ cured a man of a mental illness, whether caused by unclean spirits or not.

I’m not about to recommend going off your meds or ignoring the noble work of psychologists, pyschiatrists, therapists, counsellors.  That sort of action is folly; the Lord gives us medicine for what ails us — you would take medication for your kidneys or your diabetes or whatever, so why not your brain?  It, too, is an organ.

Anyway, what I do want to talk about is the power of Christ to do such mighty things — casting evil spirits into pigs rather than “the abyss” (what is this abyss?  where is it?).  Jesus is mighty and strong to save, to set us free from the powers of evil and darkness, to liberate us from sin, to heal us of our spiritual, physical, mental wounds & illnesses — if not now, on the day of Resurrection.  And we see in John 14:12 the following:

Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. (NRSV)

Now, our Lord Christ, being the God-man, is the only One Who can redeem, atone, and save.  Yet if we truly place our faith in Him, we can join Him in healing the sick, opening the eyes of the blind, preaching to the lost, feeding the hungry, partying with tax collectors and sinners, walking on water, and casting out demons.  Indeed, we can do these and more! (Always, as St. Augustine points out, through the power of Christ himself.)

So where are the exorcisms?

An important question, that.  To reference another work by John White, The Golden Cow, I believe that we have succumbed to pragmatic materialism in the church of today — not that matter is all there is, but matter is all that matters.  So we speak piously about spiritual things, and many of us even believe, quite literally, in unclean spirits, but none of us seem to take them seriously.  Do we pray through a new home that it may be pure of the presence of such beings?  Do we pray for discernment of spirits when someone is sick?  Do we pray for the breaking of such spirits when we see the sickness and decay all around us in the world, in what Pope John XXIII called “a culture of death”?  Do we stand before our bedroom windows proclaiming the power of Christ the King as ruler of all we survey, confronting the spirit of the age, commanding him to grovel at the knees of Christ?

If we ever had the feeling something demonic were at work, how many of us would have the faith to dare cast it out?  Wouldn’t you feel some sort of shame to think that a fellow human being might be possessed by some sort supernatural spirit?  Doesn’t it seem silly?  What about the shame of not seeking to liberate a fellow human being who is in bondage?  How do you think the Holy Spirit feels about us ignoring the gifts he gives us?

The casting out of demons did not seem silly or shameful to Christ and the Apostles, to the Church Fathers, to the Desert Fathers, to Early Medieval missionaries, to the Reformers, to those in the modern missionary movement, to Christians throughout all ages?  Where is our faith?

Where are the exorcisms?