Tuesday, February 18, 2020

The Trinity of Inquiry

I remember going to a hockey game in St. Louis back on March 22, 1994, at the old Arena on Oakland Avenue. Partly because of my devotion to the visiting Philadelphia Flyers and partly out of feisty desire to rile others around me, I wore my orange Flyers jersey and hoped my boys would break their four-game winless streak. 

I didn't need to wait long for the Flyers to take control on their way to a 6-3 win. A dish of the puck from Mark Recchi and Brent Fedyk fed Rob DiMaio for his ninth goal of the year two minutes after the opening face-off. With animal exultation, I leaped from my seat, pumped my fist into the air, and screamed "YES!"

Needless to say, Blues fans around me weren't pleased. In fact, their responses are unprintable for this blog. The truth was, by my clothing and my actions, I stood out in marked contrast to those around me.

It's one thing to do that at an NHL game. You can do that or not, and the world will go on. But when you write a book in a subject area where there are scores of volumes covering like material, you need to stand out. How was I going to do that when I wrote my book on Christian ethics?

It's not necessarily because of what you write. I've previously mentioned the various topics in the book, which you can glance at here. But as I read other tomes on moral living, I began to notice a trend. Some authors do a great job of describing--in great depth--what the issue is. Pages and pages have been written on racism, abortion, murder, homosexuality, and other matters. Some authors write with a clear agenda to convince you that "X" is what you should believe about a moral issue, and at the very least you should embrace why it is so critical.

In other words, some authors declare, "This is what it's all about!"

Other writers declare, "This is why it matters!"

In the process of reviewing all these varied takes on ethics, I noticed two things: (1) It was hard to find someone who gave equal shrift to explaining an issue and demonstrating why people should care, and (2) hardly anyone spilled ink on practical applications for how to put moral understanding into everyday action.

I often come back to a definition of faith coined by Brian McLaren. There's probably more of what McLaren says that I'd distance myself from than what I'd embrace, but he's spot-on with his definition here (keep in mind he's talking about faith in general and not Christian faith, though the latter is a more specified subset of the other). McLaren says that, "Faith is a state of relative certainty about matters of ultimate concern sufficient to promote action."

I remembered that saying and thought, "Bam! There's my approach."

We have to know what are the components of a moral issue ("state of relative certainty"). But if we leave it there, then we just have factual data with no gas in the tank. What have to answer the question, "So what?", so that people can sense why this is so critical, so they can have buy-in ("about matters of ultimate concern"). But if we leave it here, we stop at passionate sentimentality. Our beliefs need to have legs; they must be "sufficient to promote action". Therefore, we are driving toward thinking "Now what?" What are some practical ways we can apply this and be involved if this is true and this matters? We have to believe, then believe in, and then be living it out.

To that end, all chapters except one will be structured around this what-so what-now what format. I am convinced that consideration of Christian ethics means a commitment that what makes sense in our head must move our souls and find expression with our hands and feet. It's an approach that I believe will truly stand apart from others. And I am ever grateful that my publishers, Christian Focus Publications, believes in taking a chance on someone who believes in this approach.

[Next post: "Double-Edged Sword"...Why a concise volume can gladden and frustrate your readers.]

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