I Had a Religious Experience (A Few Thoughts)

Monroe, In the Country

Fifty-three years ago I had a religious experience. Someone said these words to me: "God loves you." Hearing them set off an inner revolution.

I had heard those words a bazillion times before, and they meant nothing to me, functioning at most as a kind of greeting, like "Have a nice day." I awarded them no intellectual assent. But on that day, in that moment, these three beautiful words kick-started a movement in me that has not stilled.

That was my beginning with Jesus. It was not phenomenally the same as what happened to C.S. Lewis, but qualitatively similar. Lewis wrote:

"As the dry bones shook and came together in that dreadful valley of Ezekiel's, so now a philosophical theorem, cerebrally entertained, began to stir and heave and throw off its grave cloths, and stood upright and became a living presence. I was to be allowed to play at philosophy no longer. It might, as I say, still be true that my "Spirit" differed in some way from "the God of popular religion." My Adversary waived the point. It sank into utter unimportance. He would not argue about it. He only said, "I am the Lord"; "I am that I am"; "I am." People who are naturally religious find difficulty in understanding the horror of such a revelation. Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about "man's search for God." To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse's search for the cat." (From Surprised By Joy)

God found C.S. Lewis, and God found me. I was receptive. I was ready to hear that he existed, and he that loved me. 

This did not happen in a vacuum. The soil of my heart had been softening for some time. I had started to look for God. Then, it happened. What shall I make of this?

• If this event had not happened I cannot be sure I would have become a Jesus-follower. It was that important to me. I needed something palpable, tangible, experiential. I don't know if everyone needs such a thing. But I, and Lewis, did.
• The Day of Experience was not only the day God came to me, but it marked the last day of three years of constant drug and alcohol abuse. My pursuits of girls for sex came to a halt,except for one time in the first year as a Jesus-follower where I went back to Egypt and blew it. That failure hit me hard, raising deep questions about who I had become, and what God wanted for me.
• The fact that others in the world religions have religious experiences does not diminish the value of my own. I know, in my study and teaching of comparative religions, that persons in other religions claim religious experiences. I have lines of books on my shelves of comparative religion literature containing testimonies of people of other faiths. I've visited and taught in countries that are predominantly other-religious. But this does nothing to refute the experience I had and, BTW, still have, to the present day. I agree with William James who, in his Varieties of Religious Experience, writes: "A mystical experience is authoritative for the one who experiences it. But a mystical experience that happens to one person need not be authoritative for other people." I'm good with that. (With this exception: the mystical-religious experiences of certain other persons have carried authority with me because of their credibility. For example, my wife Linda has experienced many things, from God, that amaze me.)
• The initial religious experience ripped me out of non-reflective deism, weak agnosticism, and practical atheism into full-blown Christian theism. Historically, this is undoubtable. I now believed in God, and in Jesus. I changed my undergraduate major from music theory to philosophy (fortunately for me the philosophy department at Northern Illinois University was excellent!). I viewed Philosophy as the intellectual agora for addressing and discussing life's Big Questions. I now believed. This experiential belief had an evidential quality for me, and propelled me to go after an understanding of what had happened. Fifty-three years later, this has not stopped. Today I am a deeper believer in God and Jesus than ever. 
• I think true religion (not the jeans - they are way too expensive) necessarily includes experience. In my studies of world religions, experience is paramount. Hebrew-Christianity, for example, is essentially about a relationship with God, a mutual indwelling experiential reality. This includes praying-as-dialogue with God, the sense of God's presence, being-led by God, and so on. As well as worship. Worship is experiential and logical in the sense that: If God is love, and God is real, and love is about relationship (love has an "other"), then it follows that one will know and be known by God. ("Know," in Hebrew, means experiential intimacy, not Cartesian subject-object unfamiliarity.) (See Matthew Elliott, Faithful Feelings: Rethinking Emotion in the New Testament.)
• I realize certain atheists claim to have no religious experience at all. John Allen Paulos, for example, in his Irreligion, claims to not have a religious bone in his body. I don't doubt this. This fact does not rationally deter me, just as I am certain C.S. Lewis's religious experiences don't move Paulos from his atheism. (I'm now thinking of Antony Flew's recent conversion from atheism to deism. Flew was moved by the logic of the fine-tuning argument for God's existence. And the case of the famous and brilliant British atheist A.J. Ayer who had a vision and began to be interested in God.)
• I am often taken back to my initial God-encounter. It functions, for me, as a raison d-etre. Philosophically, it's one of a number of "properly basic" experiences I've had, and still have, and may quite well have tonight. See here philosophers like William P. Alston.
• Since that original encounter I've supplemented it with ongoing biblical, theological, and philosophical studies. These are important to me. For example, if I thought that Jesus did not actually exist, I would abandon Christianity. (About ten years ago a teacher at one of our local high schools told his students that Jesus did not actually exist. One of our church kids was in his class. She called me, crying. "The teacher told me that he would consider evidence to the contrary if I could come up with some and bring it to class." I told her: "Why not bring me in?" It happened. I spoke in the high school auditorium to 170 students. The word had spread, and some other teachers allowed me to make my presentation. I spoke for 90 minutes on the actual, historical existence of Jesus. That was so much fun! I had students come to me saying things like, "I saw someone on the internet claim that Jesus never existed, but now I see that their reasoning was wrong." For some stuff I've posted on this go here.)

My initial life-changing encounter with God has led to a lifetime of Jesus-following and God-knowing and seeking. I remain forever thankful that God did and continues to reveal himself to me. 

And that it's not sheerly logical and theoretical, but relational and experiential.

*****
For further reading check out I (Still) Believe: Leading Bible Scholars Share Their Stories of Faith and Scholarship, John Byron and Joel Lohr, eds. 

Heaven, the Soul, and the Afterlife

 

This 4-session class will meet in person at Redeemer Church in Monroe, and will also be live-zoomed.

HEAVEN, THE SOUL, AND THE AFTERLIFE

RENEWAL SCHOOL OF MINISTRY

Dr. JOHN PIIPPO

 

You may have heard it said that some people are so heavenly minded that they are no earthly good.  But turn this on its head and we see that some people are so earthly minded that they are no heavenly good. In this class we will focus on a Christian understanding of heavenly-mindedness, and hope in, life after death.

We will respond to questions like these.

What happens to us when we die?

What will the afterlife be like?

How does the Bible describe the afterlife?

Why is it important to understand that you have a soul?

How can we know that persons have souls?

Will we be with our loved ones in eternity?

What will we do for all eternity?

How does belief in everlasting life inform how we now live on earth?

How do we talk with our children about death and the afterlife?

This is a four-week class. Monday nights. 8-9 PM EST. Begins Monday, Sept. 16, 2024. (9/16, 9/23, 9/30, 10/7)

Class sessions will be simultaneously in person at Redeemer Church in Monroe, Michigan, and live-zoomed.

Registration begins in August. $10 for the four class sessions.

INSTRUCTOR: Rev. John Piippo, PhD

John Piippo has taught spiritual formation, prayer, and presence-driven leadership in seminaries, conferences and retreats, around the United States and the world. John has written six books: Leading the Presence-Driven Church, Praying: Reflections on 40 Years of Solitary Conversations with God, Deconstructing Progressive Christianity, 31 Letters to the Church on Discipleship, 31 Letters to the Church on Praying, and Encounters with the Holy Spirit (co-edited with Janice Trigg).

John currently is a Visiting Professor at Faith Bible Seminary (Chinese) in Flushing, NYC, and an Adjunct Professor at Payne Theological Seminary (A.M.E.) in Wilberforce, Ohio.

John was Adjunct Professor of Philosophy at Monroe County Community College for eighteen years (Logic, Philosophy of Religion, Western Philosophy)

John and Linda have been pastors at Redeemer Fellowship Church in Monroe, Michigan, since 1992. 

John has a PhD in Philosophical Theology from Northwestern University, and an M.Div. from Northern Seminary. 

John regularly blogs at johnpiippo.com.  

Why I Am Against Abortion

 

(We must keep this ball in play.)

The reason I, and others like me, are against elective abortion is this: I/we believe the inborn conceptus/embryo/fetus is a human life. No human life is more defenseless and innocent than an inborn human life.

I believe it is morally wrong to kill innocent, defenseless human lives. I believe if you saw the inborn entity as an innocent, defenseless human life, you would feel the same as I and others do.

You would see abortion as human-killing. This would make you feel angry. This should make you feel angry.

I do not believe I, or you, have a moral right to kill innocent, defenseless human lives, no matter how they were conceived, no matter how inconvenient their existence is to us, no matter how unprepared we are to nurture them.

I see the following reasoning as immoral.

1. I am not prepared to care for you.
2. Therefore, I must kill you.

1. You do not fit into my life plans.
2. Therefore, I must kill you.

1. You are a product of rape.
2. Therefore, I must kill you.

1. I have the right to do what I want with my body.
2. You were part of my body. (This premise is false because incomplete.)
3. I did not want you as a body part.
4. Therefore, I killed you.


Here's one I heard this week.

1. People who are against abortion should care for unwanted babies.
2. People are not caring for unwanted babies.
3. Thus, people who are against killing babies are hypocrites.

Which leads to,

1. No one was there to care for you.
2. Therefore, we killed you.

If you are angry that not enough is being done to care for unwanted persons, perhaps God is calling you to do something about this, and not use it as some justification for killing persons. Thankfully, in Southeast Michigan, some people have taken this on. Several in our church family have responded to the call and are doing something for these unwanted babies.




***
See also...

Against Abortion: A Logical Argument

Abortion and the "Whatever" In the Womb

Christopher Hitchens Against Abortion

"Viability" Is Irrelevant to Personhood (and Abortion)

Elective Abortion has Nothing to Do with Health Care

Trust Disables the Agitated Heart

 

(Linda, at Weko Beach, Michigan)

In John 13 Jesus' disciples have just:

•  seen Judas leave them, 
• heard Peter confronted with his future denial of Jesus, 
• and heard Jesus tell them he's leaving soon, by way of a horrible death. 

Understandably, this leaves their hearts "troubled," and they will encounter even more reasons to be disturbed in the hours to follow.

Knowing this, Jesus tells them, "Don't let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God. Trust in me." 

The word "troubled" can be translated "agitated." Some washing machines have an "agitator." It moves back and forth, back and forth. When a heart is agitated, it moves back and forth, back and forth. It is disturbed. Troubled.

Trust stops the inner agitator. 

Trust concerns an unknown future. It relates to things we have little or no control over. Which are: most things.

Trust and control do not go together. To do both is to be agitated.

The Greek word used in John 14:1 is pisteuo, which means: "personal relational trust" (Andreas Kostenberger, John, 425). I put my trust in someone, or something. I place my trust in a person, or persons. 

I have a friend who is a police office. He recently told me, "John, I don't trust anyone." I think he trusts me. It's taken him years to come to this. His work takes him into untrustworthy situations, every day. Trust implies risk. Can we trust this person?

No trust means no rest. No trust equals no peace. But where a person trusts, there is rest and peace. 

Where trust is, troubledness is not. Trust and troubledness do not logically coexist. Any place you are trusting is a place of non-agitation. 

This is good. We all need a refuge.

In life, trust in God; trust in Jesus. He then becomes the Quieter of our Souls. We find rest, in Him. 

Worry

 

(Sunset, Monroe County)

Here are some thoughts about worry.

Of all the things I have worried about in my life, I estimate that less than 5% have come to pass. I have spent too much time worrying about things that came to nothing.

Worry, anxiety, fear… I’ve experienced them all. You have, too. What kind of person would not worry? One answer is: someone who had their brain removed. But then, of course, they wouldn’t be able to enjoy their worry-free life.

How is it possible to have the brains we have and move into greater freedom from worry? The answer Jesus gives is this: a person who trusts in God would not worry. “Trust” and “worry” do not go together. 

Jesus speaks about this in Matthew 6:25-34. Slow down and re-listen to these words.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 

Are you not much more valuable than they? 

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? 

And why do you worry about clothes? 

See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 

So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

So... 

1. Worrying adds nothing to our lives. I’ve read studies that claim worrying actually subtracts from the days of one’s life. Worrying is non-productive. Worry, anxiety, and fear immobilize, and lead to non-action. Worrying makes worrisome situations worse. If today you are worried about something, rest assured that “worry” will not make the situation better and, in some cases, will make it worse because of the resultant non-activity.

2. Trusting in God will lead to basic needs being provided. We must distinguish between basic needs, and personal wants and desires. I have found myself, at times, worrying about something that I don’t even really need. This is a true waste of emotional time and energy!

3. Some run after material things as a cure for worry. But even acquisition can be worrisome. Richard Foster, in A Celebration of Discipline, argues that the more material things a person has, the more things they have to worry about. 

Here I am reminded of research I’ve done on materialistic cultures and levels of anxiety. Dr. David Augsburger wrote a brilliant study showing how some cultures, who have little materially, do not have a lexical entry for “anxiety,” because the condition is nonexistent. These cultures are tribal. In them, the community absorbs the worry. 

Thankfulness is an antidote to worry. I have found that when I am thankful for what I have, rather than needing to have more things to be thankful for, I am more at peace in myself.

“Worry” is the tip of an iceberg. Melt off the tip, and more surfaces. To get rid of the tip, get rid of the entire iceberg. 

Spiritually, this is about our heart. I am asking God to heal my heart that is still too consumed with the cares of this world. Only then can He use me to help others with their cares and concerns. The more self-obsessive I am, the less good I am to others.

Here are some things to get help and healing from worry.

- Keep a spiritual journal. Write down your fears and worries, and give them to God. 1 Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your anxiety on him for he cares for you.”

- Re-read your journal periodically. Remembering how God has been with you in the past gives hope for the present.

- Saturate your heart, soul, and mind with God-things. Do not let the news surrounding the reporting of the pandemic occupy every room of your heart. I have found that when I make it my first priority to fill my heart and mind with God-things, I gain an eternal perspective on world-things. While the coronavirus is real, surely some of the fears accompanying it will not happen.

- Separate your real needs from your mere wants. Observe how our American materialistic culture works to create false needs within us that lead to false anxiety over a) either not having such things, or b) over having them and needing to care for them, protect them, store them, worship them, etc.

- Follow Jesus more intently and more intensely. Read Matthew 25 about what Jesus says in regard to helping the poor and needy. Take His words seriously and move towards others. As you begin doing this, you will find that your own cares and worries diminish.

- Make a list of blessings you are thankful for. Carry it with you, pull it out occasionally, and re-read it.

Trust God. Trust is not an emotion, but an action. Trust in God and worry cannot coexist in the same human heart.

Elective Abortion has Nothing to Do with Reproductive Health Care

(Bolles Harbor, Monroe)

(I'm keeping this ball in play.)

Crimestop means the faculty of stopping short, 

as though by instinct, 

at the threshold of any dangerous thought. 

It includes the power of not grasping analogies, 

of failing to perceive logical errors, 

of misunderstanding the simplest arguments 

if they are inimical to *Ingsoc, 

and of being bored or repelled by any train of thought 

which is capable of leading in a heretical direction. 

Crimestop, in short, means protective stupidity.

George Orwell

1984

P. 132

For example:

Abortion is Reproductive Health. 

Princeton jurisprudential professor Robert P. George, in Conscience and Its Enemies, argues that abortion has nothing to do with "reproductive health." So, the Reproductive Health Act, in an Orwellian move, is misnamed and, as such, misleading.

George writes:

"The question at issue in abortion is not “reproductive health” or health of any kind, precisely because direct abortions are not procedures designed to make sick people healthy or to protect them against disease or injury. Again, pregnancy is not a disease. The goal of direct abortions is to cause the death of a child because a woman believes that her life will be better without the child’s existing than it would be with the child’s existing. In itself, a direct (or elective) abortion—deliberately bringing about the death of a child in utero—does nothing to advance maternal health (though sometimes the death of the child is an unavoidable side effect of a procedure, such as the removal of a cancerous womb, that is designed to combat a grave threat to the mother’s health). That’s why it is wrong to depict elective abortion as health care." (Kindle Location 2777; emphasis mine)

Elsewhere George writes:

“A huge irony: The NY law authorizing the killing of babies in the third trimester PROVES that the aim of the abortion lobby is NOT the protection of maternal health in circumstances of hazardous pregnancy, but is rather the right to destroy an unwanted child whose existence poses no risk to maternal health (in any sense of the term ‘health’ that amounts to anything other than a rationalization for killing unwanted babies). The only reason to kill rather than deliver a child in the third trimester of pregnancy and gestation is that the woman (or someone who is pressuring her to abort) wants the child to be dead rather than alive. It's the child's *existence*, not the pregnancy, which poses the alleged, ‘health’ risk. The pregnancy can be ended (‘terminated’) by delivering the baby alive, rather than killing him or her. So do you see the see the sophistry in the argument for abortion here? It's glaring.”

In other words, if the mother's health is at risk, and the third-trimester child is **"viable" outside the womb, why not deliver the child rather than kill it? 

Because...   this baby is unwanted.

_____

* "Ingsoc" - The English Socialist Party, better known as Ingsoc, is the fictional political party of the totalitarian government of Oceania in Orwell's 1984.

** I see no good reason to accept "viability" as the tipping point for determining human value. "Viability" is another example of Orwellian "newspeak," meeting the ideological requirements of a secular political culture.

How I Abide in Christ

 

(April 17, 2020 - my front yard - SNOW!)

Jesus told his disciples that, if they abide in him, their lives will bear much fruit. "Abide" can be translated "to dwell."

Imagine Linda and I knock on your door. "We've come for a visit," I say. Presumably, you will let us in and put on the coffee. 

But if we knock on the door, and I say, "We've come to dwell with you," you are wondering if we are homeless.

To visit is a microwave, to abide is a slow cooker.

To abide in Jesus is to connect. Like a branch is attached to a vine. Jesus is the vine; I am the branch.

As I am a branch, the resources of the vine flow into me. I begin to produce the life of the vine. I produce VineLife.

To produce VineLife I must choose to do something. I cannot just sleep in my recliner while half-watching Netflix and expect to do what Jesus did. I must connect!

Here are ways I connect. And remember, when you connect to Jesus the Vine, your life will be fruit-bearing. It just will. You cannot be connected to Jesus and not be fruit-bearing. 

1. I meditate on Scripture. I read Scripture. When I read something that speaks to me, I assume this God, trying to tell me something. This makes me a slow reader! If you could see me reading Scripture you would see moments where I've got my eyes closed, my hand on my chin, and my body is still. 
When God speaks to me through a passage or verse in the Bible, I stop reading, and start meditating. I may write the verse in my journal. I often write it on a 3X5 card, place it in my pocket, and carry it with me.
For example, weeks ago, while reading through part of Proverbs, I came to this.

2. I keep a record of what God is saying to me. This is a spiritual journal. I often take time to re-read what God has been saying to me. I have gone through a lot of journals in the past fifty years! I recently bought a new one, which I like. Here it is.

3. I practice spiritual disciplines. The apostle Paul spoke of exercising in the spiritual gymnasium (going into "strict training"). Paul told me that, if I want to compete in the game of life, I must "exercise unto godliness." 
In 1981 a friend of ours, Dr. John Powell, gave me a copy of Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline. John has been one of the most influential persons in my life (Linda's, too!). As I began to read this book, God was speaking to me. I read many books. But only a few have transformed my heart. This was one. My abiding life in Christ took a quantum leap forward! The connection-disciplines in this book became my spiritual DNA.   
The spiritual disciplines themselves don't produce the fruit. They provide the attachment. The Holy Spirit produces the fruit.

4. I pray. I have a praying life. I have done this for so many years Foster's book helped me here, too. He also wrote a beautiful book on prayer. (Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home) 
In praying I speak to, and I listen to God. I have conversations with God. The discipline of choosing to pray has moved from my head ("I need to pray!") to my heart ("I pray to live!").
An excellent book on listening to God is Hearing God Through the Year: A 365-Day Devotional, by Dallas Willard.

In this season of my life I continue to read, slowly, Proverbs. And Psalms. I am also reading Ezekiel, slowly, from the Old Testament. And I am re-reading, slowly, the four Gospels - Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

One more suggestion. My book on prayer can be read devotionally. Praying: Reflections on 40 Years of Solitary Conversations with God.

I hope this helps - blessings!

To Abide in Christ Is to Trust Him

(Store in Soho, NYC)

This quote is from my book Leading the Presence-Driven Church.

***

Abiding is a type of trusting. 

I bought a new chair for my home office. I had the previous chair for twenty years. I trusted it. I knew it would hold me. Therefore, I had no anxiety about it. It would be contradictory to say, “I trust the chair I’m sitting in, but am afraid it won’t hold me.” 

To abide in Christ is to trust him. I “put my trust in the Lord.” Which means, 

• If God was a chef, I would eat his cooking. 
• If God was a shepherd, I would listen for his voice and follow. 
• If God was a rock, I would stand on him. 
• If God was a fortress, I would make my home in him. 
• If God was a river, and I a tree, I would send my roots to him. 
• If God was a vine, and I a branch, I would attach myself to him. 
• If God was a fire, I would be consumed by him. 
• If God was water, I would drink of him.
• If I was a cup, I would be filled to overflowing by him. 
• If God was a hidden treasure, I would seek him. 
• If God was a word, I would read him. 
• If God was my Lord, I would obey him. 
• If God was a chair, I would sit on him. 

I would do these things every day… after day… after day. 

There is a cumulative effect that results from a lifetime of trusting in God. A psychological confidence, a certitude, emerges. It is like the confidence I had because of sitting in the same chair for twenty years, and finding that, through it all, it still holds.