This is the Middle Way

 

In this glorious break from classes and routine, I’m listening to one of my favorite books, Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. Again. I keep making my family listen with me, and if they’re too distracted during the good parts I back it up and try again. It was recommended to me by one of the pastors of a home church network through the Church of the Nazarene known as The Table and it has become one of my favorite books. It’s the kind that sticks with you, long after you finish. The suggestion first came during the most polarizing election seasons of my lifetime. The extremes were tearing God’s beautiful Church, and therefore my heart, into pieces. But Shane’s words offered an unearthly third option, which was neither this nor that.

In one of many memorable quotes, Shane says, “My goal is to speak the truth in love. There are a lot of people speaking the truth with no love, and there are a lot of people talking about love without much truth.”

I wish the same. Usually by aiming towards the middle, I hope to “live peaceably with all” (Romans 12:18). However, sometimes this backfires, and I just end up offending all, which is not my intention. But I do hope, whether you agree with me or not that we can ponder these things peacefully together.

I am a Nazarene, which means, I’m a spiritual ancestor of John Wesley, who championed both compassion and the via media, or the middle way. Grace, humility, and open mindedness in non-essential doctrine. It also means I share the heritage of a people group who prided themselves on being a “Big Tent” denomination, leaving room for many different types of Christians within our churches. So, maybe this is why I have such a struggle inside. Because I see two camps within Christianity forming that are wildly different, and no where near the “middle way.”

There’s this popular take on Christianity, especially in Western culture, which says, “More than anything, God wants me to be happy.” This sounds very nice. But the problem is, first of all, it’s not what I see in scripture. Not when Matthew writes, “Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:24) or “Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” (Matthew 8:20). What kind of a commercial for Christianity would that make?

But all that aside, this view is problematic in a very practical way as well. What happens when what makes me happy is exactly what causes someone else’s unhappiness? Whose happiness does God show preference for then? For example chocolate makes me incredibly happy. But what if I know that the chocolate I am eating was not ethically produced? What if my support of this company contributes to and benefits from modern day slavery, exploitation of farmers in poor countries, or the mistreatment of children around the globe? What if my habit of chocolate eating is contributing to poverty and enabling greedy companies to continue paying unfair wages? These are the things I’m still trying to figure out.

Therefore, I can not simply make a blanket statement that “More than anything, God wants me to be happy.” Who am I, that my happiness should cost someone else theirs then? This way of thinking will only destroy us.

I’m tired of pushing and shoving our way towards our own version of “happy.”

However, on the other end, there’s been this reactionary movement bubbling back up within Christianity which is pushing for a return to our Puritanical roots which applauds Edwards’ “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” as one of the best sermons ever written. I’m not kidding…I heard this recently. It’s as though the push back to the “it’s all about me and my happiness” perspective is to try our best to be unhappy and help others experience that same unhappiness. They often explain that “biblical love” is brutally honest. “Out of love”, I have seen believers go after others with their “righteous” vitriol, slandering those they disagree with, such as Timothy Keller or Ann Voskamp (yes! Sweet Ann for goodness sakes) on social media. (For the record, I don’t share all the same theological views as Tim and Ann, but I love them. I live in a “Big Tent” shaped by the via media).

I’ve also seen pastors publicly call for another’s credentials revoked simply because their compassion looked too “woke.”  This is love? Have we forgotten who the true enemy is? That our battle is not against flesh and blood? Brothers and sisters, this kind of discourse is nothing but a resounding gong and clanging cymbal. And it’s putting up roadblocks between our loved ones and Christ.

I’m just so very tired of all the meanness. Can we normalize peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and self control?

Speaking of which...

Those on this end of the spectrum also usually insist God most definitely does not want us to be happy. Joy, they say, does not mean happy.

But what if the answer isn’t found in either of these sides. What if it’s not that God doesn’t want us to be happy…it’s just that He’s not preoccupied with it. What if His real aim is transforming our hearts into carbon copies of His own, until the same things that make Him happy make us happy too? What if happy has less to do with comfort and more to do with meaning? His disciples didn’t rely on comfort. You know…the whole “no place to lay their head” thing I mentioned. But they sure had meaning. When Jesus tells us that if someone asks for our cloak, to give them our tunic as well (Luke 6:29-30), I doubt that would be comfortable. In fact, it might be really cold. I’ve heard plenty of stories of Christians who’d give the shoes off their own feet, or food from their nearly empty pantry, and I confess I haven’t lived out this kind of thing very often. But in those rare occasions I have given sacrificially in some way, I have experienced a kind of joy transcends comfort.

Although not a Christian book exactly, Victor Frankl addresses this topic in Man’s Search for Meaning. He discovered that those who made it through even unspeakable atrocities with more resilience were those that sought out meaning in their suffering rather than clinging to earthly comforts. Frankel’s book was simply an observation of what our creator already knows about us.

I don’t see any reason why we need to live in such an either/or dichotomy.

I believe we can be truthful without being a jerk.

I believe God can care about our happiness on earth, while still telling us to take up our cross and follow him.

I believe we can experience even more joy and happiness once we let go of our scarcity mentality and embrace greater meaning over personal comfort.

I believe all of this is possible, because “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32)