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Tuesday, 31 October 2006 16:00 |
 | | Marc Mullinax |
"I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forgo their use."
ÇƒÏ Galileo Galilei
ï
MARS HILL ¨?ÇƒÓ Writing with you in mind for the past 65 weeks has been a wondrous time of exploring religion, faith, spirituality and good taste. I hope to wrestle with you over some key issues and ideas for a long time. Recently, I heard through third parties that some of these columns have hit raw nerves, and there has been some grumbling about the chair of the Religion Department at a Baptist school writing as I have.
First,
a true Baptist is a critic. S/He thinks. Baptists led the struggles to
distinguish and then to separate individual soul freedom away from
government and cultural authorities in the past. Have modern Baptists,
by the sole but questionable virtue of being the majority religion in
these parts (and thus a culture-broker), forgotten their sacred roots?
One of my tasks here is to post a huge "Think" sign before my own
spiritual kindred, inciting us to self-reflection.
Second, in every
age dissenters from cultural religion arise. Writers such as Friedrich
Schleiermacher, Karl Barth and Paul Tillich have done eloquently what I
attempt poorly here: engage in a "loverës quarrel" with the faith of
which he is a part. The logic of the following statement may sound
twisted, but there is truth in it: I write to make faith more difficult
in order to make it more possible.
Too-easy faith
yields lazy spirituality. If we are serious about faith matters, close
inspection of our so-called non-negotiables of faith are always
necessary, if for no other reason than to render our witness more
accountable. I recognize such examinations are often uncomfortable. So
be it.
Third, most
people come to their faith via emotional paths. Tugs of family,
community, and personal histories are intricately tied to the pulls of
faith. Fine. I write, however, assuming that we are more than emotions,
and that full, mature faith is a muscle that requires regular exercise,
calling for the "utmost of our highest" in intellectual, rational, and
all other human prowess. If one believes God gave us all that we have,
then the mind is a terrible thing to waste, not a terrible thing.
I teach at a
liberal arts college. It is neither a Bible nor a "Christian" school in
the styles of Bob Jones or North Greenville College. Situated in the
Christian tradition, we emphasize the liberal arts as a viable way for
people of faith to live faithfully in a democracy. Believers of good
will and faith have disagreed on most issues, and always will. I
introduce readers to a conversation ÇƒÏ not the last word ÇƒÏ about any
given topic. Truth, when dictated, loses its attraction. Conversation
forms the core of a liberal arts curriculum.
This brings me
to my last point. I invite all readers to engage in a larger
conversation about matters that this column weekly addresses. Above, I
mentioned third-party intelligence about dissenters to some columns. I
call upon those who disagree with me to disagree WITH ME, not exchange
gossip and slander without my presence, which then reaches my ears long
after the fact. Not convinced? Read Matthew 18:15-17.
"Come, let us
reason together." I will travel to your favorite restaurant or meeting
place, and engage in dialogue with you. Call me.
We have two
metaphorical eyes or ears, organs each of faith and of reason. I write
to help each remain as open as possible, especially when itës
unpopular. One eye or ear alone (whether of faith or of reason) cannot
penetrate so far, nor as deep, as the two naturally combined.
ï
Dr. Marc S.
Mullinax, chairman of the philosophy and religion departments at Mars
Hill College, can be reached at mmullinax-at-mhc.edu.
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