Tozer on the sacrament of living and the dangers of dualism
I recently read A.W. Tozer’s classic The Pursuit of God (WLC) as part of a book club at our church. It wasn’t my first time through the book, but like many classic devotional works, there’s plenty to learn on second (and third and fourth...) readings. But while it's wise to learn from those who have gone before us, I think it's also wise to read their work critically.
I love the big message of the book, that there’s more to the Christian life than memorizing certain core beliefs -- the Christian life is to be lived! Even more, God is to be known, not just known about. These are important and timeless reminders for church people.
This time I was especially struck by the book’s final chapter, “The Sacrament of Living.” In it he challenges the all-too-pervasive, unfounded and unhelpful sacred-secular divide many of us live with. It’s been challenged by others in recent years, but that Tozer was calling the church out on it in the 1940s is impressive:
One of the greatest hindrances to internal peace which the Christian encounters is the common habit of dividing our lives into two areas -- the sacred and the secular.
I find most of the chapter (and the book as a whole) very encouraging and challenging. Here's where he suggests that all of life can be a sacrament:
Every act of [the Christian’s] life is or can be as truly sacred as prayer or baptism or the Lord’s Supper. To say this is not to bring all acts down to one dead level; it is rather to lift every act up into a living kingdom and turn the whole life into a sacrament. If a sacrament is an external expression of an inward grace, then we need not hesitate to accept the above thesis.
I like this idea of viewing all of life as a sacrament, or at least having that potential. But I’m not sure about some of his conclusions in the chapter. Though he couches his critique by saying he has “no desire to reflect unkindly upon any Christian, however misled,” he argues that “the Roman Catholic church represents today the sacred-secular heresy carried to its logical conclusion” by driving a wedge completely between religion and life. I’m not convinced by what he chooses to focus on: sacraments and the church year.
While urging us to consider “the sacramental quality of everyday living,” he takes issue with the number of sacraments the Catholic church recognizes; he prefers the Protestant two to the Catholic seven. It's a bit puzzling, in my mind, to insist that all of life is to be a sacrament, but then to make a big deal about the fact that to him, the Catholics have too many. But my bigger beef is with his dismissal of the value of celebrating or observing the church year. He laments the Protestant return to what he calls “spiritual slavery,” saying,
The observation of days and times is becoming more and more prominent among us. “Lent” and “holy week” and “good” Friday are words heard more and more frequently upon the lips of gospel Christians. We do not know when we are well off.
Celebrating or observing the events of Holy Week, in my view, doesn’t constitute spiritual slavery, and ignoring them doesn’t make us any more “well off.” Now, if he’s worried that by observing “days and times and seasons” and considering some more holy than others, we’d be in danger of further reinforcing the sacred-secular divide, I’m at least sympathetic. But I don’t think that’s the biggest danger we’re facing in this regard. There’s so much that could be said about this, but I’ll make just one point.
All of us live lives according to certain rhythms, whether those rhythms have anything to do with our faith or not. By opting to refrain from observing Lent or Advent or the rest of the Christian calendar, we’re not simply leveling out the year into 365 equally holy and “sacramental” days. For one thing, we set Sundays apart as a day of worship and rest. But more than that, in the absence of “Christian” rhythms, our lives are shaped by the “secular” rhythms of our world -- the school year, or sports seasons, or perhaps by the opportunities and limitations of fall, winter, spring and summer, respectively.
To put it starkly, if we refrain from observing Good Friday, do we likewise refrain from observing Black Friday? Or are we content to live with that sort of sacred-secular dualism?
Our lives will be shaped by rhythms of one kind or another; my contention is simply that I think we’d do well to shape them primarily according to the rhythms of our faith, rather than merely marching along, unthinkingly, in parades of consumerism, materialism, nationalism, or any of the other isms that are constantly competing for our allegiance. But moving on...
Tozer concludes,
It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, it is why he does it. The motive is everything. Let a man sanctify the Lord God in his heart and he can thereafter do no common act.
As Tozer says, our motive for our work has a lot more to do with whether it's sacred or secular than whether it's formally considered a ministry, or business, or education, or politics, or science or art. Our motive really matters, but I think that beyond motives, the bigger question is whether our work is contributing to the common good. Consider these big questions for business leaders -- and for all of us -- to better think through how our work can serve the common good. Yes, motive matters. And yes, there is sacred work to be done in every sphere of society. But good motives aren't sufficient to guarantee good results.
Once again, I love that Tozer challenges the sacred-secular divide, and this theme of the integration of faith and work is a big one. I plan to explore it a bit more soon, in conversation with a couple of more recent books.
If you've read any of Tozer's work, what did you most appreciate? What do you think of my affirmations and critiques?
Miroslav Volf on public faith and the common good
The role of faith in the public square is a theme I've been considering a lot lately, thinking about the need for civility in place of the contentious rancor so prevalent on both sides of the aisle, even (or especially) in Christian circles. And not only civility as a sort of quiet, passive alternative to culture wars, but somehow redirecting those energies into something a little more worthwhile, like a commitment to humble service -- not seeking just our own self-interest, but instead working together for the common good.
In early January I read Miroslav Volf's A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good (Brazos), which is basically about all of those things. Byron Borger at Hearts & Minds Books named it the year's "best book on Christian public witness," so that alone should let you know it's good.
Its themes are so big, so timely and so well articulated, but somehow I didn't get around to blogging about it right away. But after hearing Volf speak on Friday night in Portland, and after shaking his hand and thanking him for his talk (confession: despite immediate declarations to the contrary, I have since washed my hands), I decided it was time to say a little something about A Public Faith.
Volf introduces the book by describing the situation in which we find ourselves, religiously speaking: the world's religions are growing, both numerically and in public impact. And unlike earlier days, religions aren't geographically separated anymore; we're literally each other's neighbors. In other words, we're living interspersed with each other, and we each have different visions of how the world should be.
In this context, we face two easy options: imposition or withdrawal. We could favor imposing one's religion on others, or alternatively, we could settle for a thoroughly secular public square -- but both would be malfunctions of faith. Volf, writing "as a Christian theologian to followers of Christ," seeks to show us an alternative.
Unlike the five idealized Christian stances toward culture articulated by H. Richard Niebuhr in his classic Christ and Culture in 1956, the real world is simply too complicated to neatly reduce faithful Christian engagement to any one of the five. Whereas Niebuhr listed them as Christ against Culture, Christ of Culture, Christ above Culture, Christ and Culture in Paradox, and Christ Transforming Culture, Volf points to the real-world complexity we face:
Faith stands in opposition to some elements of culture and is detached from others. In some aspects, faith is identical with elements of culture, and it seeks to transform in diverse ways yet many more. Moreover, faith's stance toward culture changes over time as culture changes.
See the complexity of it all?
Volf goes on to say that faith shouldn't be idle, but active in all spheres of life, though it must not be coercive either. As Christians, he says that we can bring a unique vision of human flourishing and the common good to the public square, along with the resources to realize it. Even so, we must grant to other religious and political groups whatever rights we claim for ourselves.
"Most malfunctions of faith," Volf says, "are rooted in a failure to love the God of love or a failure to love the neighbor." So what does an engaged faith look like? He suggests that we must show how Christian belief actually leads to human flourishing and the common good, and that it springs from loving God and loving our neighbor. It's not just stating our belief -- that God exists, that he loves the world, that he is our hope, that he offers abundant life -- but actually meaning it; that is, living what we believe, and doing what we do precisely because of what we believe:
That, I think, is today's most fundamental challenge for theologians, priests and ministers, and Christian laypeople: to really mean that the presence and activity of the God of love, who can make us love our neighbors as ourselves, is our hope and the hope of the world -- that this God is the secret of our flourishing as persons, cultures, and interdependent inhabitants of a single globe.
I know a lot of Christians who really are seeking to embody an engaged faith in the public square, and by God's grace I really want to be one of them. But if Christians are still so widely known for being culture warriors or killjoys, I see a couple of possibilities that I think warrant honest and prayerful consideration.
Could it be that we are indeed busy seeking the common good, but doing so without bothering to mention the uniquely Christian basis for human flourishing that underpins our hope? Or could it be that for all our grand articulations about doing justice, loving kindness and walking humbly with our God, we've neglected to actually do it?
[Photo credit: BCTGM Local 167G]

Repaso: The reawakening of Bob Dylan; politics of evangelicalism; common good & virtue; religion & race; IMF in 33 A.D.
1. The reawakening of Bob Dylan
Stephen Deusner writes for American Songwriter about Bob Dylan’s “reawakening”:
2. The politics of evangelicalism
Chris Seiple, president of the Institute for Global Engagement, has a piece in Foreign Affairs in response to an earlier article titled “God and Caesar in America,” in which the authors suggest that mixing religion and politics is unavoidably bad for both. Seiple disagrees, writing,
3. Common good, sphere sovereignty and virtue
Clay Cooke, a PhD candidate in ethics at Fuller Seminary, writes for Capital Commentary that for those who pursue public justice, the cultivation of virtue is essential:
4. Race and the Christian
If you missed the recent livestream of the discussion on Christianity and race featuring John Piper, Tim Keller and Anthony Bradley, the video of each of the three presentations and another with the Q&A that followed has been posted at Desiring God. It’s an important conversation.
5. Comparing possibilities for change in Guatemala and Honduras
Duncan Green, head of research for Oxfam GB, recently traveled in Central America, and compares the prospects for positive change in neighboring Guatemala and Honduras on his From Poverty to Power blog, including what’s better in Guatemala, what’s worse, and what’s similar. Here’s some of the (comparatively) good news from Guatemala:
6. The IMF’s mission to Judea
NYU development economist Bill Easterly often pokes fun at the World Bank, IMF and others, as he does here, imagining what an IMF report would look like around Easter, two thousand years ago:
Repaso is intended as a thought-provoking compilation of news and commentary from the past week related to the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As always, I welcome your thoughts on any of the links and ideas in this roundup!
[Photo credit: americansongwriter.com]