Thoughts on Renewals--Again

I fear I am entering that phase of my life in which I merely repeat myself. This entry is another approach to a topic that I rehash and rethink every few months.

The only success I’ve had in ministry was in a charismatic fellowship. I am a charismatic. I would rather hang out with them than any other brand of Christians. I know the language and its nuances, and I remember the glory days of the 1960s and 70’s.

The miracles and excitement of those days appear to be resurfacing in our local church. But I have apparently been warped by other experiences and movements, because I have a certain reticence about it all. Some of that is native (I might as well say sinful)—the usual reluctance to answer the altar call when people are falling out under the power of the Spirit—I go forward just because I need to conquer my self-consciousness. I also have to confess a bit of envy. No one falls down when I pray for them—a mark of anointed leadership within the movement.

So there they are. Selfishness and envy. Having admitted those, let me confess an even deeper habit of standing outside the movement (both historic and current) and looking at it in a broader context—a habit that I have not yet decided is a gift, or mere judgmentalism, a worse sin that the others. I don’t know yet. Anyway, here is a rehash of thoughts about renewals that float through my head, usually on my way home from church.

First: God likes to do New Things. The charismatic movement is fifty-three years old. I remember reading about Smith Wigglesworth’s vision of the ocean: every new wave broke against the retreat of the previous one. Wigglesworth’s point was that movements often resist a new wave, and even create a reaction that brings the new forth. This is a difficult thing to bring up, because no one professes to long for a new movement more than charismatics. But the fact is that a charismatic vision for a new movement consists in a repetition of the old familiar phenomena. This is a blind spot. I remember visiting Pentecostal churches during the high days of the charismatic movement. The manifestations in both groups were similar, but there was a nuanced difference. The charismatic meetings were fresh and exciting; the Pentecostal meetings felt stale and old—“free” forms had become a learned ritual, and there was a sense of “we have arrived and sooner or later you’ll do it our way.” We need to remember that the charismatic movement is as old as Pentecostalism was when the charismatic movement broke out. It would be easy to fall into the same mindset.

I am not yet convinced that the New Thing is upon us. It may be the Emergent Church. It’s too early to tell. Right now I perceive Emergence as more of a reaction than a positive movement. It is still trying to find its voice. But whatever occurs next, it will probably contain something that offends charismatics. That is why we need to keep our eyes open and be aware of that fact. What can be newer that healing, deliverance, and salvation? Perhaps new forms, but definitely something wonderful, something outside the box. I don’t want to miss it.

Second: Renewalists describe church history in terms of renewals. That means that charismatics view the dry times between renewals as, well, evil. They are our fault. If we would pray more or be more zealous, or return to our first love, renewal would reoccur. The assumption is that perpetual renewal is normative for the church, and the lack of the normative is a human failure. I take issue with that at a personal level. My life in Christ (from my side) is more like a mountain road with high views, and low valleys without much vision past the next step (the classic kataphatic/apophatic tension). Neither the high nor the low has taught me to walk with Jesus; but their combination has. High times give vision; low time increase endurance and strength. I believe the same is true of the church. To repudiate low or “dry” times as a wasteland between the really important high points wipes out opportunities for the church to stretch her faith. It may be that the Lord is closer to her at those times than she realizes.

Third: There is a relationship between the church and culture. The first Great Awakening transformed the areas in which it occurred. Taverns emptied. The morality of those areas coincided more readily to a biblical standard. There was also a connection between the abolition movement within the evangelical community and the preaching of later Awakenings. In light of that, I have wondered from time to time how much influence the charismatic movement has had on American culture. To be fair, the Great Awakenings were revivals in which numbers of people converted to Christ, while the charismatic movement would be more accurately called a renewal within the church. Nevertheless there has been little lasting effect by the movement on government, economics, social issues (other than abortion), or the arts.

While there have been positive changes in American culture during the last fifty years, especially in relation to civil and women’s rights, my observation as a Christian is that traditional morality has declined significantly and secular humanist ethics have increasingly dominated since the 1950’s (everybody say “duh!”). It is interesting that this decline has coincided with the life span of the charismatic movement. Nothing in the movement slowed the death of biblical morality. I have a suspicion, which may get me in hot water, that there is a latent Gnosticism among charismatics that separates between Christ as Lord of my inner experience and Christ as Lord of nations and cultures. Many thinking charismatics have struggled with this conflict, and may be helped along their way to cultural change by other Christians, particularly in the Reformed camp. I hope that in the next Move of God the life of the Spirit spills out into the surrounding culture, producing not a renewal, but a Reformation.

In Defense of my Job

When I was sixty years old, I found myself out of work and looking for a job. The folks at the local probation office had mercy on me, hired me, and eventually moved me into the role of intake officer (seeing probationers for their first visit after court) and Community Service Coordinator (working with local non-profits and hooking up probationers who have been ordered community service with the proper work site). Our office deals with misdemeanor offenders who are sentenced in General Sessions (County) Court. Common offenses are DUI, Possession of Drugs, Shoplifting, and Domestic Assault. I like what I do, and I like the people I work with. They are committed professionals who care about each other and about the people that make up their case loads. However, we are not always perceived that way. More often the profession is regarded with suspicion and even contempt. Here is my response as an “outsider” who wandered into the probation office from another vocation.

A probation office is sort of like a garbage truck. Everyone wants us to do our job, but they don’t want us parked next door. We are perceived as tainted. That may be true of all law enforcement agencies—guilt by association. The equivalent would be fear of a doctor because the diseases he treats may rub off on other patients. I tried several times to get our local newspaper to do a human interest story on some of our successes, or on the service provided to the community through the work of probationers at the local food bank and rescue ministry. Whenever I called, the reporter ignored my request and began immediately digging for dirt. Apparently, only an article that fed the negative perception of our office was newsworthy. I gave it up.

The negative perception of the probation office can be summed up in three statements, to which I want to respond.

1) “I don’t have time for this crap.” Translation: “Probation is a way for local government to harass and oppress me.” The assumption behind this statement is that probation is a right, not a privilege. It has been a common practice in most counties for so long, that it is perceived this way. But in reality, probation is an alternative to 30 days to twelve month’s jail time. It allows the convicted offender to stay with his family, maintain employment, and provide some form of pay-back service to the community which he has in some form endangered. Those who complain about having their lives interrupted seldom consider the alternative. Neither, apparently, does a segment of the community.

2) “It’s all about money.” Well, in some ways, it is. Our office uses electricity, buys equipment, rents a building, and pays employees. (Case workers of any kind, by the way, are on the low end of the American pay scale. No one goes into such a profession for the money. Most of them are idealists.) All probation offices in Tennessee, whether private or part of a county system, charge probationers a fee that is set by the state Board of Probation. Some folks see this as unjust. I have had clients tell me that “the government should pay for this.” My response is, “Friend, I am the government.” In other words, if a probation office does not collect fees, it will come out of the pockets of local taxpayers. How about a referendum in Sevier County to see how local citizens would feel about that? Let me add here that there is a process for truly indigent probationers to have this fee waived by the court.

3) “My probation officer is mean.” Law enforcement philosophy in our culture has two poles: retribution and therapy. Is justice a matter of punishment, or an opportunity to change lives for the better? Most court systems and their probation offices walk the middle ground between the two. Either way, the job of the probation officer is to see that the probationer completes his court ordered obligations, which may include retribution (such as trash pick-up) or therapy (such as addiction treatment). Failure to complete obligations will result in a violation of probation, which means the probationer will be back in court and face even more severe obligations, often jail time. That means that, if the officer presses the probationer to complete his obligations, that pressure is in the probationer’s best interest.

It is also my observation that only @10% of our clients are deliberately malicious or dangerous. The remaining 90% are simply irresponsible. That means that the probation officer is a surrogate parent. The term “mean” should be more justly translated “stern.” It’s interesting that “mean” is often a child’s response to a parent who loves him enough to provide structure and discipline. Success in our office is defined by personal growth and the willingness of our clients to take responsibility. Those successes are too rare, but they provide the impetus to keep officers going. Caring probation offices provide another chance for people who missed loving parental or pastoral authority. I realize that that statement raises a host of questions about church-state-family issues, which can be discussed at a later time. My point here is that our office acts as a safety net, not only to protect the community, but to salvage lives. Thank God for some “mean” folks.