Same Spirit, many spirits . . ..

I guess we all wonder from time to time how it is that a gospel whose very essence is the reconciliation of person to person, person to creator, person to cosmos so often fails to reconcile us to each other, so often fails to reconcile us to creation, so often leaves us at odds with the cosmos. The conservative vs. liberal worldview provides no really satisfying answer. Jesus—our founder and pattern—was conservative with that which needed conserving, was liberal with that which needed to change.

Or we can worry away at this question choosing either the tools of Aristotle or Charles Fox Parham: syllogistic reasoning vs. charisma. Maybe a traditionalist/modernist distinction is at the core of divisions, or something even less obscure, like the question of whether the gospel approves of beards and mustaches, beards but no mustaches, or no beards or mustaches in men, head coverings (black or white?) in women.

Whatever peg we hang our reason-to-quarrel on, the truth persists: we Christians routinely miss the entire point of the gospel and cling to obscure nuances that (we assume erroneously) justify our childish perception that the Christian world is made up of two parts—MINE, and myriad imposters.

Just maybe, God gave us both Aristotle and Charles Fox Parham to bless the church, not to divide it. But then, the possibility that He guessed wrongly on this grates against the doctrine of God’s omniscience. Just for a moment, let’s toy with the idea that the inspiration of the Holy Spirit teams up with the rigours of reason to provide us with the discerning of God’s will when controversial choices must be made in a Christian community.

Jonathan Swift wrote an essay in 1729 called A Modest Proposal, which most English major undergraduates have studied since. It illustrates satirically the dehumanizing among the English gentry of poor people in Catholic Ireland while, at the same time, shocking us into seeing that reason devoid of charisma is absurd. The “modest proposal” is that since poor Irish families live in appalling conditions and go hungry, and since they are known for having large families, the selling for food of their children would resolve both their hunger and general overpopulation problems. (The essay barely falls short of providing recipes, although it does speculate on the price-per-pound that would be reasonable.)

It’s a logical solution.

Based on Old Testament admonitions regarding the consumption of blood, some Christian religions have so strongly embraced the charisma, the voice and authority of an external Godhead, that they have denied their children blood transfusions that might save their lives. In effect, their obsessive-compulsive clinging to supernatural, external judgment renders them merciless while ostensibly serving a merciful God. Reason and logic sense the irony in this. Even a little reason would go a long way in the panic of the emergency room.

But—human as we are—we seem to prefer to split into Aristotelian or Parhamian (Pentecostal-like) churches; United Church of Canada or Assemblies of God. Not both together. Apart.

Inspiration motivates and energizes while logic concretizes and organizes. I can’t think of any project—be it missional, entrepreneurial, social or political—that doesn’t depend for success on the marriage of the two. Neither can I think of any enterprise that succeeds without it.

And yet, when it comes to the work and worship of a faith community, my God, how we sometimes come to despise each other!

“There are many gifts, but the same Spirit.”

If only, if only.