Making Satan Real

This review first appeared on the Englewood Review of Books.

Christians view and interpret Christ rather diversely. However, there seem to be even wider discrepancies between understandings of Satan. Is he real or a metaphoric personification? Is he a fallen angel or playing a designated role in God's court? Does he have real power or not? Do Christians need to worry about Satan, or should we have no fear because we live in Christ? Many modern Christians in developed countries seem to avoid the issue, perhaps reading CS Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, but not having much more conscious experience with the Devil beyond that.

In Reviving Old Scratch, Richard Beck's intended audience is the group of Christians who, as he says, are "doubters and the disenchanted." He taps into sociological frameworks with the latter term, referring to the opposite of enchanted worlds, where we see overt supernatural influence all around us. Disenchanted means stripping the magical quality of things, largely via scientific explanation. A good example of this comes from a missionary living in Africa, where a woman had an emergency delivery. When she returned to her village with her newborn, her health quickly declined. The local Christian seminary students were convinced the neighboring village had put a spell on her and started threatening them to release her. Just then, the village received a physician, who quickly identified an infection and medically treated her. The villagers were skeptical, but trusted the physician. A few days later, she was just fine. Those villagers live in an enchanted world. Few Americans would even have a similar thought cross through their minds in the same situation--we have a scientific explanation and solution. Beck cleverly and aptly summarizes our disenchantment process as "Scooby-Dooification," referring to the classic Scooby-Doo plot line of a supernatural threat that eventually gets unveiled as a common person creating fear in the guise of false supernatural forces. The disenchantment process of the supernatural is part of the solution of solving a crime.

This disenchanted world makes belief in anything supernatural, including God, difficult. The idea of Satan is even more challenging to many Christians in the developed world. Yet references to Satan and demons are pervasive through Scripture, and many people talk about the demonic as part of the influence of the world and their lives. People like Elaine Pagels have provided detailed explanations on how Satan is more metaphor and personification (a lecture transcript provides a nice summary of her analysis). However, Beck's foundational thesis is that this isn't a good enough response to Satan. Rather, there is actually something quite useful, powerful, and important about talking about Satan and demons as real. This is summarized nicely when he stated, "I turned the corner in my faith when I adopted a theology of revolt, a vision of spiritual warfare, a posture of action over theological rumination. I got disgusted with how much time and energy I was wasting on my doubts. It was time to get off my theological ass and into the game" (p. 82-83).

The biggest struggle I have with this text is how to categorize it. While categorizing isn't always necessary, it can be helpful to clearly know what the book's purpose is and how to set expectations. While the back of the tome labels Reviving Old Scratch as "Religion/Theology," Beck doesn't actually make any traditional theological arguments. He doesn't try to convince anyone about their theology of Satan. There's a basic assumption that Satan as a conscious force does not exist, which goes back to the disenchanted audience to whom he is writing. Rather, he seems more to provide many examples of how disenchanted Christians can still find value, meaning, and depth in Scriptural and everyday references to Satan and demons. He basically creates a hermeneutic for modern American Christians. That is fundamentally theological. However, it often feels like the book lives more on the Christian Living than Theology shelf. At times, it feels like a devotional, especially in part because while generally logically organized, the book seems more like a series of semi-related stories than building a logical, linear argument. In the midst of all of this, Beck deserves kudos for being able to reason in an academic environment, but write a book that is accessible and bridges both theology and Christian living.

There were two primary areas where the text made helpful theological insights for me:

1. Early on, Beck introduces and seems to support the atonement theory of Christus Victor, which refers to Christ's death as a ransom. Satan holds humanity hostage, and God ransoms us through Christ's sacrifice. One of the biggest theological problems with this atonement theory is that it almost gives Satan more power than God--God is required to pay Satan. That gives many people pause. I found it odd that Beck talked about this theory, particularly from a disenchanted view. If Satan isn't a being, how does Christus Victor apply? Beck ultimately argues that demonic power is real, but he never really closes the theological loop on this point. However, his book triggered other connections in my mind. I've become a fan of Girardian scapegoat atonement theory, which asserts that it is humans who need a sacrifice--a scapegoat--to feel reconciled. It is the absurdity of Christ's sacrifice that breaks this cycle. What if Christus Victor and scapegoat theory could actually be describing the same thing, but Christus Victor from a more a enchanted worldview, while scapegoat is more disenchanted and psychological? If Beck is correct about the reality of demonic power over us, but due to the reality of the human condition, not because of a supernatural conscious force, what if God is actually trying to ransom us from ourselves?
2. From a disenchanted worldview, many Christians struggle with ideas of worship. I've heard people say, "Is God really that insecure that he needs us to worship him every week?" I've also recently struggled with the purpose of singing and music--what is it really supposed to do? Beck provides some excellent examples about how the purpose of worship isn't to stroke God's ego, but it helps us reorient ourselves to refocus our actions. He states, "When life is hard, we must constantly exorcise the demons of despair. And worship, praise, and testimony are how we combat the despair and reach toward hope" (p. 131-132). That fundamentally impacted my experience of worship in the weeks that followed.

Beck's text is a nice addition to the conversation about Satan and the demonic. It won't be terribly helpful for those looking for more traditional exegesis. However, his stories bring Scriptural and theological principles to life in a powerful way. He makes abstract, removed ideas, especially for the disenchanted, real, immediate, and relevant. His framings provide good reminders and ways to consider and approach life. I dog-eared a couple dozen pages because of the many good ways he discusses important, timely topics. While some could think a book about Satan could be depressing, this is a quite uplifting, inspiring text. In fact, I ended the book with tears in my eyes from a touching concluding story.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Does the Building Matter?

Last week, I asked, "Does Dress Matter?" in regards to how we dress at church. This week, I want to look at the relevance of our buildings that (supposedly) inspire worship. Many readers know I was heavily involved in the Crystal Cathedral Ministries. My wife and I had our first kiss, got engaged, and got married on the campus (plus the last Star Trek movie was filmed there, which is awesome! :) ). But it was also regularly criticized for its opulence (okay, the women's bathroom was definitely extreme). Recently, there was an interesting post from a former critic of the building, recognizing some potential benefits of the architecture.

Yes, a lot of hungry people could have been fed with the money from building the Cathedral (and many other buildings worldwide). But how much have such buildings inspired people spiritually (and subsequently resulting in financial donations)? We'll probably never know for sure. However, I can say that these buildings have definitely inspired me over the years and helped keep me focused on the priorities of faith. This can seem ironic since the building can seem so superficial and in contrast to last week's post. But one of the things I loved about the grounds was how they emphasized a connection with nature, being able to see God all around us. The Chapel in the Sky was one of my favorite places, being able to see the surrounding community for miles, reminding me of the importance of touching all of these lives.

Extending one of the arguments from last week about the importance of making worship time different, I think the building really can do that. I've been part of congregations whose buildings are clearly churches, with stained glass windows and history built in, and those whose buildings were warehouses and looked more like theaters. I can't really imagine going back to the latter option. Part of it is in the style of worship that is too performance-driven for me now. But the other part is that those types don't feel like anything special or different. Walking into the Crystal Cathedral feels special. Walking into my current congregation's building feels special. It helps put me into a different mindset. There's a reason the Temple was to be created a certain way with increasing reverence for the increasing sanctity of the divisions, culminating in the Holy of Holies.

But I would resort back to my recommendation from last week. How about we create buildings that are meaningful to our own worship? After all, even buildings are simply social constructions (literally and figuratively). Just like dress, we shouldn't obtain a building to build our egos, but rather reorient ourselves to the reason we're worshipping.

Does Dress Matter?

Just before Easter, CNN's Belief Blog featured a piece entitled Stop dressing so tacky for church. The premise is that people need to dress up better for Sunday because Sunday church should be set apart.

There's something to be said for setting an intentional time of worship aside and making it different from the rest of the week. But I'm not convinced how we dress is necessarily a part of that, especially not in the way argued in the article.

First of all, we have to remember that there is nothing inherently meaningful about any style of dress. It's all about meaning we ascribe to it culturally, for better or for worse. So wearing a suit and tie does not necessarily translate to be something important and sacred to everyone. The analogy the author uses that I think is initially compelling is that we all would dress up nicely if we were to meet the President of the United States. That's likely true (although there are plenty of exceptions in history based on appropriate context). But is that because there is something meaningful about the dress or because there is simply an expectation that we dress a certain way in the White House (there is, in fact, a dress code in many areas).

I, for one, usually find nicer dress like this rather superficial and annoying. Maybe I've just had too many experiences with borderline narcissists who dress up to show off. For me, often times fancy dress is far more distracting than casual attire. Casual clothing often shows much more personality and uniqueness to an individual. I feel like my personality is sucked out of me every time I dress up. It is not a form of self-expression in my case (I know there are some examples of this, but they're usually the cases at the front of this paragraph). Should we display self-expression during times of worship? There's another theological debate. Some would argue yes, some would argue no... But if putting on nice clothes makes some of us feel like we're putting on a front and not being our authentic selves, is that how we should enter worship?

Additionally, the article argued that our dress should be nice so it sets the time apart from the rest of the week. I now have to wear a tie to work daily and semi-regularly wear a suit coat. So if I do the same on Sundays, how is it any different from the rest of the week? In actuality, casual dress sets the time aside much more so than nice clothes. I actually sometimes look forward to which of my t-shirts I can wear that I don't get to wear during the week. Yesterday when I was deciding what to wear to church, I was sad because I felt the need to dress up a little nicer that day (for a few reasons), making my dress feel much more boring and conforming.

Several years ago, I was part of a church where it was almost taboo to wear a suit to the evening service (the opposite was true in the morning). On Easter, I intentionally wore a suit because it was meaningful to me. (This was also a time I never had to dress up.)

So this is what I would propose: Dress in a way that's meaningful to you. Just like so many other behaviors, stop worrying about what other people do or how they dress. If we can get ourselves, individually, into a worshipful posture, that will do far more for both ourselves and our community than putting all of our energy into what other people do.

Star Trek, Star Wars, and Church Worship Style

What's the similarity between Star Trek, Star Wars, and worship styles in Christian congregations? There's people very passionate (and vocal) about how to do each of them right.

A couple of months ago, my wife and I watched the documentary, The People v. George Lucas, an entertaining exploration of Star Wars fans' relationship with Lucas. One of the core elements of the documentary was how long-time Wars fans hated Episodes I-III and how Lucas modified IV-VI because of new technology. The filmmakers recognized that this dislike is not universal. But the conclusion was quite insightful, I thought: People had a strong emotional reaction and bond to Star Wars decades earlier. They wanted and expected the same experience now. Except they are different, Lucas is different, the world is different, and frankly, the Star Wars universe is different. You cannot have the same experience again. Yet many young people are experiencing Star Wars for the first time in the same way their elders did, but with new material. Does that really make the content bad, then?

The same thing is happening in the Trek universe. I'm amazed at how vitriolic some people have been towards the Abrams crew, especially Star Trek Into Darkness (SPOILER warning, if you haven't seen STID yet). Some people HATED it (no, that's not overemphasizing it). People have been ripping apart how the casting was horrible, how none of the characters are right, how the stories are ruined, and how there's too much action. I think what's really going on here is the same thing that occurred with Wars: Here is a new experience with old, beloved characters. Many of us want to recapture the old flame of things we once loved.

In the documentary, people were mentioning how they saw Star Wars as synonymous with the joy of their childhood. Psychologically, it looks like they want their childhood back (some basically said that). Yet there's no way to go back. I think it's the same process with Trek now. STID is actually my favorite of all the Trek films to date. I was never terribly impressed by The Wrath of Khan film and never intimidated or scared by the original Khan. Cumberbatch's Khan is chilling and truly deviously threatening in my experience. But I wonder if I would have had a different reaction if it were my beloved TNG crew. A new Q with a young Picard? Those are characters I have attachment to, while I've never been attached to TOS. Yet I would hope I would be open to a new experience.

Recently, our congregation went from two services each Sunday to one. Not because of attendance issues, but because we want to be one intergenerational church, not split by worship style. The big issue at hand was how to reconcile conflicting worship styles (isn't that always one of the major conflicts in a congregation?). While I appreciate "traditional" music, I don't have much, if any, emotional connection to it. It doesn't evoke worshipful feelings in me. When I see many people sing it, it doesn't look like they have any emotion, either (although that can be said for many congregations singing contemporary music :) ). But I wonder why people get so attached to that style. I think in many ways, it's the same process going on with Trek and Wars. People grew up hearing a particular type of music. They have warm memories of other experiences, which become paired with the music. The music reminds them of the past. And it's hard to let go and have a new experience. The same exact thing can be true for people to stuck on contemporary music. Or any other aspect of worship. During the first Sunday of the new schedule, one of our long-time (as in 50+ years attending) congregants shared about her experience of worship. She was so insightful, talking about how familiarity of style was welcoming, but how something different could be very valuable. Our pastor gave a wonderful sermon explaining the history and philosophy of worship in that congregation. I loved how he ended by saying that he hopes everyone found something they loved in the service. And something they disliked. Because that would be an area of growth to tolerate and appreciate differences.

We can honor the old experiences, but we have to remember we can never go back to before (just as said in the musical, Ragtime). We need to determine what we need now and what experiences will help facilitate that in the present. That may mean we need Chris Pine more than William Shatner. But that doesn't mean Shatner is less valid or less important. Without the Shatner Kirks, there would be no Pine Kirks...

Jesus Deficit Disorder @christianaudio @caReviewers @FrankViola @lensweet

Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola's The Jesus Manifesto looked rather interesting when I got a review copy of the audiobook from christianaudio. I've heard many good things about Sweet and Viola, so I was excited to listen to this book.

For a text that is based in so much passion, I once again was disappointed by the fact that neither of the authors read their text. So much is missed when the author does not read their own text.

I think that would have made a big difference here. Much of the passion was lost. In fact, a lot of the book seemed overstated. Although God can never truly be overstated, the use of metaphor and hyperbolic adjectives was just too extreme. The point was lost.

While I agree with the intended worshipful comments, I got bored with the book.

Also, the basic premise that the church has Jesus Deficit Disorder (a lack of focus on Christ) is just not one I really buy. I agree that many churches and people definitely suffer from this, the communities of which I have been a part have focused a lot on Christ.

The "Jesus Deficit Disorder" is just one example of a metaphor or phrase that appears clever at first, but just comes across as cheesy when paired with so many other such phrases. It gets old.

It's not a bad book. If you want a book that is a devoted worhsip of Jesus, Jesus Manifesto does it well. You can even sign a Jesus Manifesto. These are good things. The audiobook just didn't really move me at all...

Article Round-up 4/23/10

Here's some good articles from this week:

Why We Fight About This. Specifically, it's about evolution. However, the idea of Christians becoming defensive and closed minded due to a challenge to the cohesiveness of our faith is the very point of this blog. The goal here is to challenge ideas without feeling like the cohesion is gone.

The Pastor As Docent. Great article using the metaphor of a docent in order to describe the role of the pastor. I think it's a very creative and good metaphor.

Spirit-Centered Progressive Christianity. This was written by one of the presenters at the TAG10 conference I attended last month. It almost seems like a response to my biggest criticisms of the conference. I doubt Epperly even read or knows of my comments, but I found his article quite interesting.

Truth and Imagination

Today's lenten devotional from Dr. Larry Crabb was particularly interesting and powerful, I thought. He talks about the desire to find and control truth, often to the exclusion of imagination and the dance of faith and relationship with God. It's something many of us struggle with and is often the subject of this blog. If you'd like to read it, visit the archive and look for Day 27.

Theology After Google Wrapup or Where's the Praise? #tag10

Sorry for the delayed wrap-up. I finally scheduled my first licensing exam, so the next two weeks will be extra focused on studying. But no more highly anticipated waiting for my final thoughts on the Theology After Google conference. :)

First of all, the third day was by far the best. It was less focused on convincing everyone to use technology and social media and more of showing people various ways of actually utilizing it. I also appreciated that there was less focus on technology as the end-point in contrast to it being a means to an end.

There were a few points that particularly stood out:

In his presentation, Doug Pagitt (whose writings I very much admire and who I was very excited to meet at the conference) discussed different "Ages" that America has passed through that have affected how the church operates. He noted that we have been in the "Age of Information," which has created a church that is all about teaching. I have discussed before the question of the emphasis on teaching in church, but this really helped pinpoint it, describe it, and put it into perspective, particularly that church (even the organization on Sunday mornings) can and should be much more than teaching.

He also describe a phenomenon that I've noted before about the differences between mainline/progressives and evangelicals. While I have described it as a cognitive/affective split, he named it as open minded and challenging one's own assumptions and theology versus challenging one's aesthetics and mode of presentation. I think we're hitting on the same idea: Mainline/progressives are willing to change their thoughts, but not their mode. Evangelicals are willing to change their modes, but not their thoughts. While there's exceptions to these rules, I find them largely true. The problem is, I still have not found a satisfying answer as to why this is the case.

Further, I'm really sick of this divide. My friend and I both noticed that there was evidence of a very strong divide between evangelical thought and mainline/progressive thought. The conference was sponsored by and dominated by the latter, and there were various comments and such that showed a disdain for evangelicalism. I still want something in between. As I shared in a breakout group, I'm currently going to an evangelical church. I can do the cognitive challenging stuff on my own (I do it anyway). I need the group for the praise element. For some reason, I find that that is something that I cannot do satisfactorily on my own.

In response, Doug Pagitt mentioned how he is out of the mindset of "the God of the gaps," referring to God is only present with what man cannot do. I completely agree with him, as readers of this blog should know. God works incarnationally. However, there is something important about occasionally being explicit and praising God. An analogy I thought of is marriage. I should show my wife how much I love her and live that out. However, I also need to say it out loud. And frequently. I think it's the same with God, for God's sake AND for mine. Probably more for my sake, as I'll forget why I'm doing something.

That's one of my biggest criticisms and complaints from the conference. There was a noticeable lack of praise. I called it "devotion and worship" before, but I realized "praise" is probably a better descriptor. I think that may be an artifact of the mainline/progressive tradition. This is what makes me feel more evangelical than I thought I was. Now interacting with many of the top movers of Emergent Village, I understand why some people, like Dan Kimball have separated and started their own organizations. I don't know or remember the reasons why, but if I were deeply involved, I would consider that on the basis of wanting more explicit praise. Yes, I find it that important.

What do you think? What is the role and importance of praise? What does praise look like to you?

Theology After Google Day 2 or Web 2.0 and Worship #tag10

So Day 2 of Theology After Google is over, and we're about to start the final day. I've had a variety of thoughts and reactions. So here we go, and some of my conclusions will hopefully be helpful to the wider web audience. :)

It's a good conference, and I'm impressed that there have been no bad presentations or presenters. That's rare in a conference. However, yesterday morning I was getting a bit bored, honestly. It was too much repetition and trying to convince us of using social media and Web 2.0 rather than 1.0. My friend and I kind of thought, "We all probably believe that anyway if we're here." After talking with one of the organizers, Phillip Clayton, that does not actually seem to be the case. In fact, it has in some ways been more of a Web 2.0/social media boot camp. That would explain why I'm one of the youngest and one of the few young people there...

If you need or want boot camp, you can also view the conference live or again here. I would recommend the afternoon sessions from yesterday, starting with the video game one. Good stuff there. I like the metaphors, particularly about predestination and free will.

On that note, one of the things I have wanted the most is using Web 2.0 for worship and devotion. That's an element that seems to be noticeably missing. In fact, to me, this conference could go on without God. I'm not sure I've felt God's presence at all. It's more reliant on all of our thoughts and creativity.

The one exception is someone who I have been introduced to in this conference and really like is Callid Keefe-Perry. I'm definitely going to start following his blog. He does a nice job of being incarnational and reminding us that why we do what we do is to connect with God, not just be self-sufficient cognitive beings.

One of the suggestions I thought of last night is using Twitter to share with other people (and remind ourselves) of ways we've seen God in the world around us, using the hashtag #incarnation. That's a long hastag, so if you have other ideas, please share!

What other ways can you see Web 2.0 and social media being used to facilitate worship and devotion?

Finally, both my friend and I have noticed the major divide between mainline/progressives and evangelicals. Both of us feel out of place in both worlds. I personally thought I was closer to the mainline/progressive world. After this conference, I feel closer to the evangelical world, largely because of this issue of devotion and worship. I know mainlines do that, but I'm still puzzled as to why it's been so clearly absent here. It's really sad. These two groups really need to get closer together. I need a way in between...

Theology After Google Day 1 Thoughts #tag10

Last night was the first night of the Theology After Google conference, and I really enjoyed it. It got me thinking about a few things, so like a good blogger, I have to share them with the world, assuming everyone will read them. :)

The conversations my friend and I had after during the TheoPub was focused on social media. Yes, the conference is about the use of social media (i.e. Twitter, Facebook, blogging, etc.), but I don't really think that's the main point. As the speakers said last night, "Google" is really a metaphor for what is changing in the world (primarily America) and theology. In short, the technology revolution and easy accessibility of information, which also allows everyone to contribute to information, is leading to a new democratization of theology. The parallel is the advent of the Gutenberg press and Bible, which paved the way for the first democratization of theology, namely everyone being able to read the Bible.

Social media definitely helps get the information out. That's the way I use it, I realized last night. Social media and technology are more about information and content than really connecting with people. I use the "social" tools, but I realized last night that social media connection feels to me more like a superficial connection. It makes me feel connected, but when I really think about it, I'm not really connected with the others. This may be idiosyncratic to me and part of my introversion, so I'll own some of that, too.

Ultimately, though, I think we need to remember social media is a tool and medium, not the end goal.

As some criticisms (the organizers asked for feedback), I really didn't hear anything new last night. It may have been new to some people, but... That's not necessarily a bad thing. It really was laying the groundwork of the philosophical underpinnings of what will likely be discussed over the next two days.

Additionally, we were encouraged to stay connected online and multitask. I appreciated that, so I tried. However, I found it quite difficult to pay attention to the speaker, read tweets, and tweet myself. I think today I may check tweets and tweet responses occasionally, but focus more on being present in the moment. To me, that's more powerful and something that can be lost in an age of technology and social media (and believe me, I LOVE technology, including my new Android phone :) ).

Finally, my friend and I were both realizing last night that there had not been any prayer. This is a group of Christians. Are we afraid of opening a theology conference in prayer? Or closing it? He also commented that it would be nice to have some musical worship. I have to agree.

Prayer and worship (and yes, discussing theology can be worship) would help us maintain our focus and remind ourselves that this is not all about us, but about God and connecting to God. I realized last night, that night one actually felt more like a celebration of ourselves (i.e. the Academy Awards) than really attempting to worship and connect with God...

It may also be indicative of the fact that most of the organizers come from a more "progressive" background. This just emphasizes what I've observed about mainliners being more cognitive while evangelicals are more affective. Why can't we have both?!

Liturgical v. Contemporary Church, Part 2

Three months ago, I wrote a post noting some observations I had about liturgical versus contemporary churches. I recently read this article, entitled The Living Emerging Movement. Many readers of this blog know that I do consider myself best described by the emerging movement. I appreciate it because (from my perspective and my version of it as it seems everyone's definition is different), the conversation is just that: A conversation. There is the ability to discuss life and theology and be critical thinkers in the search for Truth with the hope and belief that there is an ultimate Truth. I think the emerging movement has also reignited discussions and focus on lively worship.

There is a lot of talk of the emerging church being dead or almost dead. I hope it doesn't, in part because of what the above article mentions. McKnight guessed several years ago that emerging Christians each will go one of three ways: into the mainline denominations, back into old evangelicalism, or leading evangelicalism into a missional direction.

I personally can really feel the tension between these options. I'm not sure where I land, which is why I don't want the emerging church to die. It's something with which I can associate that is the best descriptor of me. And I know many people also feel like they are not accurately described by any movement, denomination, or label.

Anyway, one of the reasons I struggle with this is the feeling of worship and what the mainline versus evangelical churches emphasize. I realized this weekend that mainline churches do a very nice job of being critical thinkers. They nail the cognitive elements of Christianity, usually much better than the evangelical churches. I've been a member and a part of evangelicalism for many years, and I can say it often advocates much less than critical thinking.

However, the evangelical churches historically have done an excellent job of having more lively worship. By that I mean more affective, referring to emotion and the full range of emotion. While some people are very moved by the liturgical, traditional services (I went to a service like that for quite a while myself), these models do often have the implication of displaying less affect. Now, as one of my friends has said, evangelical churches have become rather stale recently, focusing more of inauthentic performance rather than real, affective worship. And that's one of the things the emerging movement has challenged.

So in many ways, it seems we have found ourselves in the age-old cognitive-affective, head-heart, thinking-emotion split. It's hard to integrate the two together (believe me--I've worked with many clients on that issue). Yet I long for a church community that can do just that. They exist, but they're hard to find in my experience. What about yours?