Miranda Rights for Theology

Everyone should at some point in their lives be read a version of their Mirada Rights. 

No, I am not a pastor suggesting everyone endeavor to be arrested. Instead, I am wondering if we could encourage everyone to read or hear a theological version of the Miranda Rights. 

The part of the Miranda Rights usually recited by an arresting officer that I’m interested in for this extended analogy is the part about an attorney: “that a defendant has a right to an attorney and that if he/she cannot afford one, then one will be appointed to him/her by the court/state.” Three options are typically presented by an arresting officer. The first two are less than preferable in either side of this analogy. The final one option is preferable; were this not the case, there would not currently be a television show about how O.J. (allegedly…cough…cough…) got away with murder because of amazing lawyers. 

First, we are able to represent ourselves. The old saying bears repeating: “a man who chooses to be his own lawyer has a fool for a client.” Nothing is more dangerous than thoughtlessly attempting a spiritual life by yourself. It is the singular arrogance of our generation that we believe we can create our own systematic theology (or atheology or something vaguely and agnostically in between), believing that one’s spiritual life can be created, like microchips, in a vacuum. Yet, both the intellectual vacuum and our ability to create something truly original in this spiritual realm are equally delusional. We are all influenced by and under the influence of countless people. Some of us are passively under the influence of a family member, teacher, friend, peer, or institution.  Some of us are aggressively reacting against someone or something else. It is truly rare for me to find anyone who doesn’t fit one of these two options, a person who remains truly untouched by the spiritual imprint of anyone. Ecclesiates recurring lament is that “There is nothing new under the sun.” The more I study, the more I believe this to be true in theology. Although new composites and mixtures are always possible, I believe we are, like any chef, work with limited ingredients. Yet, we should not despair, for many chefs have won incredible awards using the simplest ingredients. This inability to be uninfluenced and original is the reason this first option is unappealing and also why it often devolves into the second option.

Second, you are able to accept the free lawyer offered by the state. Our culture and world is more than happy to offer a palatable and simplistic spirituality. It will be convenient, easy, and do all the thinking for you. So long as nothing truly terrible or traumatic happens to you, sadly, it will usually work. There is a reason people make so much money on self-help books and vanilla New-Age mysticism. We are more than willing to eat it up. And just because you don’t buy any of those best-selling books or listen to them on the talk shows on the TV and radio doesn’t mean they aren’t already influencing you. These ideas are deeply embedded within the narratives we daily consume at movie theaters and Netflix and on Spotify and Pandora. This truth is worth unpacking at a later time and many of my future blog entries will be devoted to a theology of modern pop film and music (search for “The gospel according to _____”).  

Third, you choose your attorney and you pay the hefty price. The price for good theology is time and thought. Something we seldom seem willing to give to the most important thing in our lives, our relationship with God. Even if we don’t believe in God, it seems worth the effort in defining at least what kind of God (or gods) we don’t believe in, if only to be clear and honest with ourselves and others. 

So, here’s the challenge. Join me on this journey of translation, this spiritual journey of discovery of both old and new and figuring out what it all means. I will spend most of my time on this blog trying to unpack the meaning of old words and seeing what (if any) relevance they have for us today. I will try to keep it as straightforward as possible and follow Jesus’ example of using analogies or parables whenever possible (like the Miranda Rights one for today).   

You have the right to remain isolated in your spiritual journey, to have shallow and uninformed views about humanity and God, trusting only yourself in this challenging spiritual walk. You are welcome to choose to ignore centuries of sages, mystics, and prophets. They wouldn’t know anything about your world or how to navigate it anyways. 

You have the right to remain passive and under the influence of our culture, adopting a cheap, lazy, bargain-basement approach to the most important asset in your life, your soul. You can simply base your moral or spiritual compass upon whatever flavor of the month Oprah or whoever you follow is serving up. 

But you can do better. You can make an informed choice. You can read widely, hopefully wide enough to include a few that are a little less Modern/Western, and deeply. You can have conversations over a beer at a local pub like the greats did (C.S. Lewis, Tolkein, and Luther to name a few). You can even read the Bible, hopefully at least a gospel or two, and meet Jesus. 

PS. That reminds me of a story Jesus told of two men who built houses. One built his house on the solid foundation of bedrock, while the other foolishly chose sand. The one who built in the sand is like a person who bases their spiritual lives on something other than scripture.