I first read Ordering Your Private World by Gordon MacDonald while still in college in the late 80s, and I've been a fan ever since. From early pastoral success to public sin to healing and restoration, I've enjoyed his writing and been inspired by his life. I still remember a somewhat heated "discussion" I had with a now well-known pastor/evangelist at an FCA retreat about whether or not someone caught in adultery had forfeited the opportunity to pastor, and Gordon was my exhibit A for "yes, God uses broken people." (NOTE: I wanted to say God ONLY uses broken people, but that's for another post.)
Now, in his newest book, Going Deep, Gordon once again impresses me. The 3.5 consistent readers of my blog know my struggles with the modern-traditional church in the US. I teeter on the line between emergent and irreligious, while still basically staying connected to my church. My ecclesiology leads me to see many of today's US churches as too large, too unrelational, and too trapped in "where would you go if you died tonight?" programs OR so far moved away from biblical truth that they've become irrelevant. I've always wondered what it might look like for a modern-traditional church/pastor to adopt wholeheartedly a biblical view of community and discipleship and work to reform his/her local church.
Enter Going Deep. I don't know enough about MacDonald's church to know how accurate the book is on implementation, but from the standpoint of how it might look, it's right on. Written in the same semi-fictional style as Who Stole My Church? and Brian McLaren's A New Kind of Christian series, Going Deep tells the story of a fictional New England congregation pastored by GMac (Gordon) and his wife Gail, who he says are the only two non-fictional characters in the story. The plot revolves around Pastor GMac's engagement with his neighbors, his Bible, and his own congregants about becoming "deep" people. An overarching early theme is that teachability is important, but growability is key. Like plants, we all need to grow deep roots in order to flourish outwardly. We need to be deep people.
The congregation goes through a 1 year process that takes a group of willing believers and challenges them in weekly gatherings of community to become deeper men and women. There are difficult commitments that are asked for and made (could "take up your cross" not involve difficult commitments?). Prior to the group starting, Gordon explored what it means to be a deep person, connecting with people from various walks of life, including a Jewish rabbi and an HR leader tasked with training "up & comers" in her company. All in all, this little group becomes what in my ecclesiology IS the church--a small group of people living life together and seeking to participate in and expand the kingdom of heaven.
But the most amazing thing about the book is how Gordon puts in the context of the modern-traditional church (which I define as the prototypical late 20th century evangelical USAmerican church) and shows how this might work. I've said many times that most large churches today are NOT churches, they are weekly gatherings of many smaller churches, along with some religious people, some bystanders, some outsiders, and some lone-wolf Christians. The senior pastor is often not pastoral at all, but a gifted communicator and leader. This book codifies that thought, and works to build one deep church within the congregation (including some outsiders), and then after that first year the members of that church will start their own churches, with new members from within and without the original congregation. It's a phenomenal concept that I'd love to see more current churches try.
I highly recommend this book. I give it 5 out of 5 bellybuttons in the Phatter book club.
Stimulating thoughts on a bunch of topics, but mostly about how I see God working in the world.
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Monday, January 02, 2012
Monday, October 10, 2011
Book Review: "Why God Won't Go Away" by Alister McGrath
In the past 10 or 15 years, a new breed of atheist has sprung onto the scene. With Christopher Hitchens somewhat at the front of the pack, this group of atheist thinkers seem to be more about anti-religion thought than they are truly atheistic in nature. It reminds me of the phrase that I once heard someone say about these neo-atheists (I think about Richard Dawkins, but I could be wrong): "There is not a god, and I hate him."
I like Alister McGrath. He thinks well and deeply, and has a great way of taking that deep thinking and making accessible to the public at large. In this book, McGrath dissects the writings of the 4 leaders of the new atheist group: Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris, and Christopher Hitchens. And instead of the same old apologetic critiques of atheism, he puts out some great initial thoughts on counteracting the new atheist arguments against God and religion.
If you're looking for a book that dives deeply into the arguments for theism, with all the nitty gritty details, this probably isn't it. But for the average church-goer, this is a great primer on the basics of new atheism and the arguments to counter that teaching.
Probably the most important thing I can say about McGrath's book is that it is full of love. Not wishy-washy stuff, but genuine love and concern for these 4 men and the others who follow them. He knows them personally in some cases, prays for them with what appears to me to be sincerity, and truly wants to get to the truth. That alone makes the book unique and worthwhile in our vitriolic era.
The book is in 3 sections: a description of "new atheism", a discussion of 3 core themes to engage new atheism about, and a little look at what he sees as the future of new atheism. As I already said, the first section is not an in-depth philosophical examination, but meant for the average church goer, and as such does a great job introducing us to the common themes, elements and players on the new atheism stage.
The real value of the book is in section 2, where McGrath explores what the new atheists say about the Christian religion's history in 3 areas: violence, reason, and science. McGrath is honest--truly much idiocy has been done in the name of religion, and even in the name of Jesus. But he also looks at the things done in support of atheism, which certainly isn't any better of a track record. In fact, both of these support the biblical truth of innate depravity within human beings. We are bound by evil in many cases, regardless of how religious or irreligious we might be. One quote: "Maybe it's not that religion corrupts humanity but that a corrupt humanity creates a look-alike religion." (p. 92)
One great quote from the science chapter: "If science is hijacked by fundamentalists, whether religious or antireligious, its intellectual integrity is subverted and its cultural authority compromised." (p. 108) And in praise of science, McGrath says "science is about giving us reasons for believing that certain things are true, while at the same time insisting that we realize that future generations my rightly want to challenge those beliefs. That's why science is so successful: it's willing to change its mind in response to new evidence." (p. 115)
We all must be looking to how new evidence changes what we believe. We believe in an unchanging God, but not in an unchanging understanding of him. May he enlighten us with all truth because of our hope in him (Ep 1.17-18).
I like Alister McGrath. He thinks well and deeply, and has a great way of taking that deep thinking and making accessible to the public at large. In this book, McGrath dissects the writings of the 4 leaders of the new atheist group: Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris, and Christopher Hitchens. And instead of the same old apologetic critiques of atheism, he puts out some great initial thoughts on counteracting the new atheist arguments against God and religion.
If you're looking for a book that dives deeply into the arguments for theism, with all the nitty gritty details, this probably isn't it. But for the average church-goer, this is a great primer on the basics of new atheism and the arguments to counter that teaching.
Probably the most important thing I can say about McGrath's book is that it is full of love. Not wishy-washy stuff, but genuine love and concern for these 4 men and the others who follow them. He knows them personally in some cases, prays for them with what appears to me to be sincerity, and truly wants to get to the truth. That alone makes the book unique and worthwhile in our vitriolic era.
The book is in 3 sections: a description of "new atheism", a discussion of 3 core themes to engage new atheism about, and a little look at what he sees as the future of new atheism. As I already said, the first section is not an in-depth philosophical examination, but meant for the average church goer, and as such does a great job introducing us to the common themes, elements and players on the new atheism stage.
The real value of the book is in section 2, where McGrath explores what the new atheists say about the Christian religion's history in 3 areas: violence, reason, and science. McGrath is honest--truly much idiocy has been done in the name of religion, and even in the name of Jesus. But he also looks at the things done in support of atheism, which certainly isn't any better of a track record. In fact, both of these support the biblical truth of innate depravity within human beings. We are bound by evil in many cases, regardless of how religious or irreligious we might be. One quote: "Maybe it's not that religion corrupts humanity but that a corrupt humanity creates a look-alike religion." (p. 92)
One great quote from the science chapter: "If science is hijacked by fundamentalists, whether religious or antireligious, its intellectual integrity is subverted and its cultural authority compromised." (p. 108) And in praise of science, McGrath says "science is about giving us reasons for believing that certain things are true, while at the same time insisting that we realize that future generations my rightly want to challenge those beliefs. That's why science is so successful: it's willing to change its mind in response to new evidence." (p. 115)
We all must be looking to how new evidence changes what we believe. We believe in an unchanging God, but not in an unchanging understanding of him. May he enlighten us with all truth because of our hope in him (Ep 1.17-18).
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Book Review: Tea With Hezbollah
I have a new favorite Ted Dekker book.
The 3.5 faithful readers will know that Ted is pretty much my favorite fiction writer. Okay, so he's pretty much the only fiction writer I have read in the past 10 years. His writing, while fiction, is so stimulating theologically that I suck it dry when I read it.
But this new book is not fiction. Far from it. It's all too real.
Ted, and his friend Carl Medearis, travelled a few years ago to the Middle East, on one specific quest: to discover if the teaching of Jesus--that we are to love our neighbor as ourself--is being talked about, taught, or even followed. And specifically when that neighbor is your enemy, what then?
Ted & Carl sit down with many people that leaders here in the US (and can I say, most people who call themselves Christians) would clearly define as enemies. Muslim teachers and leaders. Hezbollah. Hamas. Regular people like cabbies and tour guides. And in between the great writing of Ted, they post verbatim what these "enemies" have to say about life, about what makes them laugh, and what they think about Jesus' teaching to love your enemy. And at the end they even get to meet some of the remaining 700 or so Samaritans still living in Israel.
This book is, as my friend Thom Wolfe said on the back cover, irreverent. But it is full of truth. And it point to Truth in the man from Nazareth.
Muslims, Jews and Christians have several things in common. A couple of them are (1) they claim to worship the God of Abraham; and (2) they by and large ignore the actual teachings of Jesus.
This book gets the coveted 5 bellybutton rating. 00000. Read it. And take another look at what Jesus calls us to.
The 3.5 faithful readers will know that Ted is pretty much my favorite fiction writer. Okay, so he's pretty much the only fiction writer I have read in the past 10 years. His writing, while fiction, is so stimulating theologically that I suck it dry when I read it.
But this new book is not fiction. Far from it. It's all too real.
Ted, and his friend Carl Medearis, travelled a few years ago to the Middle East, on one specific quest: to discover if the teaching of Jesus--that we are to love our neighbor as ourself--is being talked about, taught, or even followed. And specifically when that neighbor is your enemy, what then?
Ted & Carl sit down with many people that leaders here in the US (and can I say, most people who call themselves Christians) would clearly define as enemies. Muslim teachers and leaders. Hezbollah. Hamas. Regular people like cabbies and tour guides. And in between the great writing of Ted, they post verbatim what these "enemies" have to say about life, about what makes them laugh, and what they think about Jesus' teaching to love your enemy. And at the end they even get to meet some of the remaining 700 or so Samaritans still living in Israel.
This book is, as my friend Thom Wolfe said on the back cover, irreverent. But it is full of truth. And it point to Truth in the man from Nazareth.
Muslims, Jews and Christians have several things in common. A couple of them are (1) they claim to worship the God of Abraham; and (2) they by and large ignore the actual teachings of Jesus.
This book gets the coveted 5 bellybutton rating. 00000. Read it. And take another look at what Jesus calls us to.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Book Review: "God Took His Coffee Black"
Happy New Year, to the 3.5 of you who read my blog. I would say I've resolved to blog more in 2011, but I don't make resolutions. I do make goals, but I have a hard time following them. Maybe I'll share them with you for some accountability this year.
Or maybe I'll just adopt the theology of G. W. Drum's book "God Took His Coffee Black." Because since it's just your basic new age drivel, it's okay that I don't reach my goals, because God is not judgmental. We only judge ourselves too harshly. When bad people die, they go to a part of heaven where they are "schooled" in how their "sin" affected others, then sent back to the "earth-plane" to see if they can get it better the next time around.
Uh huh.
I was asked to review this book by the publisher, so I'm reviewing it. It gets zero bellybuttons, something I've never done before. It's terrible theology, and not much better writing, to be honest. The author admits early in the book to one of his many visitors (which include God, played by George Burns, Elvis, Karen Carpenter, Adam & Eve, Marilyn Monroe, and several others) that he wouldn't be good at writing a book, then just so you know he's serious he proves it.
I'm sure the author will feel like I'm being too harsh and judgmental, but I'm just exercising my free will, and if he's correct I'll learn later what I did wrong.
But with all the free will I can muster, I cannot recommend anything about this book.
Or maybe I'll just adopt the theology of G. W. Drum's book "God Took His Coffee Black." Because since it's just your basic new age drivel, it's okay that I don't reach my goals, because God is not judgmental. We only judge ourselves too harshly. When bad people die, they go to a part of heaven where they are "schooled" in how their "sin" affected others, then sent back to the "earth-plane" to see if they can get it better the next time around.
Uh huh.
I was asked to review this book by the publisher, so I'm reviewing it. It gets zero bellybuttons, something I've never done before. It's terrible theology, and not much better writing, to be honest. The author admits early in the book to one of his many visitors (which include God, played by George Burns, Elvis, Karen Carpenter, Adam & Eve, Marilyn Monroe, and several others) that he wouldn't be good at writing a book, then just so you know he's serious he proves it.
I'm sure the author will feel like I'm being too harsh and judgmental, but I'm just exercising my free will, and if he's correct I'll learn later what I did wrong.
But with all the free will I can muster, I cannot recommend anything about this book.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Book Review - 5 Cities that Ruled the World by Douglas Wilson OOO of OOOOO
Wilson's "5 Cities that Ruled the World: How Jerusalem, Athens, Rome, London & New York Shaped Global History" (Thomas Nelson Publishers) is my kind of history book. In a similar vein as Mark Noll's "Turning Point", one of my favorite history reads, Wilson does a snapshot look at how various aspects of each of these 5 cities have come to influence our world today. Woven around the metanarrative of "freedom," I learned enough history to make the book worth the time.
Jerusalem, that city that struggles to birth peace today, is shown as the birthplace of religious freedom. God has done amazing things in and around Jerusalem, from Abraham and Melchizedek to David and Solomon to Jesus and Paul. Athens is presented as the birthplace of democracy, where men first saw fit to rule themselves. Rome is the birthplace of freedom under a law, the pax romana. Rome took the fledgling ideals of democracy and encapsulated them in the empire. London was the birthplace of artistic freedom, particularly literature. And New York became the place of financial freedom, the pinnacle of American capitalism.
The history in the book is impeccable, just the kind of overview that many Americans in particular will find entertaining enough to read (God knows Americans need to read more history!). Snapshots is the right way to describe it--it never feels like Wilson is trying to cram too much history into his pictures. And his notes offer plenty of follow up reading if one chooses to do so.
Probably the most challenging thing Wilson attempts is the recurring comparison of the Roman Empire to the American one. Are there corollaries, are there parallels? Wilson make an attempt at that answer, and without giving too much away, it's a decent attempt, albeit one that can get a little preachy about American freedom being more tied to biblical Christianity than I would be comfortable with. It's not quite as deep on this subject as say Claiborne and Haw's "Jesus for President" but that's because it's more of an emerging theme for Wilson than the reason he wrote the book.
One shortcoming--most of the thought and history is Western. I think I understand why Wilson would work this way--he's writing to Westerners and helping them understand their own history and how it has evolved them into who they are and why they think as they do. One chapter on a non-Western city (Jerusalem is non-Western in the time of Abraham and David, but I didn't feel Wilson dealt with it in that way) contrasting Eastern and Western thought might have added a good deal to the book.
All in all worth the read. Phatter Book Club gives it 3 bellybuttons out of 5.
Jerusalem, that city that struggles to birth peace today, is shown as the birthplace of religious freedom. God has done amazing things in and around Jerusalem, from Abraham and Melchizedek to David and Solomon to Jesus and Paul. Athens is presented as the birthplace of democracy, where men first saw fit to rule themselves. Rome is the birthplace of freedom under a law, the pax romana. Rome took the fledgling ideals of democracy and encapsulated them in the empire. London was the birthplace of artistic freedom, particularly literature. And New York became the place of financial freedom, the pinnacle of American capitalism.
The history in the book is impeccable, just the kind of overview that many Americans in particular will find entertaining enough to read (God knows Americans need to read more history!). Snapshots is the right way to describe it--it never feels like Wilson is trying to cram too much history into his pictures. And his notes offer plenty of follow up reading if one chooses to do so.
Probably the most challenging thing Wilson attempts is the recurring comparison of the Roman Empire to the American one. Are there corollaries, are there parallels? Wilson make an attempt at that answer, and without giving too much away, it's a decent attempt, albeit one that can get a little preachy about American freedom being more tied to biblical Christianity than I would be comfortable with. It's not quite as deep on this subject as say Claiborne and Haw's "Jesus for President" but that's because it's more of an emerging theme for Wilson than the reason he wrote the book.
One shortcoming--most of the thought and history is Western. I think I understand why Wilson would work this way--he's writing to Westerners and helping them understand their own history and how it has evolved them into who they are and why they think as they do. One chapter on a non-Western city (Jerusalem is non-Western in the time of Abraham and David, but I didn't feel Wilson dealt with it in that way) contrasting Eastern and Western thought might have added a good deal to the book.
All in all worth the read. Phatter Book Club gives it 3 bellybuttons out of 5.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Quick thought on patriotism
Over the past decade or so, as I've struggled with applying the teachings of Jesus to societal structures and not just on my own individual faith, I've thought a lot about national pride. I come from a wonderful family with many who served in the military, and who love this country. My wife, who is Argentine but became a US citizen in the 90s, has commented many times over the years at my patriotism, usually because she has seen how much I love the national anthem (and get really bothered when people start cheering at a sporting event before the song is actually over--it's very somber for me).
I've also spent time with many people from other countries and cultures, and think really about how much "God so loved the world", and wonder about the proper sense of national pride for one who lives in two worlds, one whose ultimate loyalty belongs to the King of kings, not to any man, woman, creed or ideology. I'm reading 5 Cities that Ruled the World: How Jerusalem, Athens, Rome, London and New York Shaped Global History, and came across this quote, which I wanted to share:
When patriotism goes to seed, becoming a jingoistic nationalism, it gives patriotism a bad name. It is the difference between gratitude and arrogant pride. Patriotism stifles the spirit of war, nationalism breeds wars. Patriotism is catholic, nationalism is sectarian. Patriotism understands and enters into the affection that others have for their place.
What do you think? How does a lover of Jesus loyal to the kingdom of God live a patriotic life in the US? What about those believers who live in Argentina, or Spain? Or Iraq or Palestine?
I thank God for the freedom I've been able to enjoy in this life. May I never take for granted political and economic freedom, or the spiritual freedom that comes only from Jesus.
I've also spent time with many people from other countries and cultures, and think really about how much "God so loved the world", and wonder about the proper sense of national pride for one who lives in two worlds, one whose ultimate loyalty belongs to the King of kings, not to any man, woman, creed or ideology. I'm reading 5 Cities that Ruled the World: How Jerusalem, Athens, Rome, London and New York Shaped Global History, and came across this quote, which I wanted to share:
When patriotism goes to seed, becoming a jingoistic nationalism, it gives patriotism a bad name. It is the difference between gratitude and arrogant pride. Patriotism stifles the spirit of war, nationalism breeds wars. Patriotism is catholic, nationalism is sectarian. Patriotism understands and enters into the affection that others have for their place.
What do you think? How does a lover of Jesus loyal to the kingdom of God live a patriotic life in the US? What about those believers who live in Argentina, or Spain? Or Iraq or Palestine?
I thank God for the freedom I've been able to enjoy in this life. May I never take for granted political and economic freedom, or the spiritual freedom that comes only from Jesus.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
A short book review: Chasing Francis by Ian Cron OOOOO
Yes, 5 out of 5 bellybuttons. For only the 2nd time ever (the first being Dallas Willard's The Diving Conspiracy) I give all 5 bellybuttons up. The book is that good.
I've always thought that I didn't get enough out of my books. There are 20 or 30 that I think I should just read over and over, instead of buying new books. So last week I picked up Chasing Francis off my shelf and read it through for a 2nd time. And it's still just as good.
Cron writes one of those semi-fictional accounts like Brian McLaren's New Kind of Christian. And the topic is similar--a New England pastor named Chase Falson blows a fuse about his misgivings concerning Evangelicalism and has a total meltdown in front of his congregation. Chase has been a successful pastor, growing a massive church and doing great things, but has increasingly become cynical about the whole USAmerican evangelical culture. (Sound familiar?)
So the elders give him some time off, and he travels to Italy and with the guidance of his Uncle Kenny, gets to know the little saint from Assisi, Francis. No matter how familiar you are with the story of Saint Francis, this book is worth the read. The newer versions even come with a study guide for individual or group digestion.
But here's the quote that convicted me this time around:
It was the communal example of Francis and his followers, rather than rhetoric, which offered the critique and provided the challenge...For the past few years I've been a self-righteous critic of the church and all of Christendom, and I need to give that up...Maybe I should try to live the gospel without gloss and keep my mouth shut? Chase Falson
I guess I need to say and pray those words myself. A lot. I think I've said it before; one of the most challenging things about Rich Mullins was that while he lived Jesus he loved the church, no matter her shortcomings. I need to give that up myself, and simply live the gospel without gloss.
Like Francis. I hope you read the book.
I've always thought that I didn't get enough out of my books. There are 20 or 30 that I think I should just read over and over, instead of buying new books. So last week I picked up Chasing Francis off my shelf and read it through for a 2nd time. And it's still just as good.
Cron writes one of those semi-fictional accounts like Brian McLaren's New Kind of Christian. And the topic is similar--a New England pastor named Chase Falson blows a fuse about his misgivings concerning Evangelicalism and has a total meltdown in front of his congregation. Chase has been a successful pastor, growing a massive church and doing great things, but has increasingly become cynical about the whole USAmerican evangelical culture. (Sound familiar?)
So the elders give him some time off, and he travels to Italy and with the guidance of his Uncle Kenny, gets to know the little saint from Assisi, Francis. No matter how familiar you are with the story of Saint Francis, this book is worth the read. The newer versions even come with a study guide for individual or group digestion.
But here's the quote that convicted me this time around:
It was the communal example of Francis and his followers, rather than rhetoric, which offered the critique and provided the challenge...For the past few years I've been a self-righteous critic of the church and all of Christendom, and I need to give that up...Maybe I should try to live the gospel without gloss and keep my mouth shut? Chase Falson
I guess I need to say and pray those words myself. A lot. I think I've said it before; one of the most challenging things about Rich Mullins was that while he lived Jesus he loved the church, no matter her shortcomings. I need to give that up myself, and simply live the gospel without gloss.
Like Francis. I hope you read the book.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Book Review - The Next Evangelicalism by Soong-Chan Rah OOOO (4 of 5 bellybuttons)
I do a book review every so often here, but lately have been wanting to revive the olden days. A decade or so ago I would do a book review for all the youth pastors in El Paso. It was called the Phatter than Oprah book club, and books got 1 to 5 bellybuttons based on my preference. Not wanting to be too insensitive, we're just gonna shorten it to Phatter than O, but the bellybuttons are back.
So, at the risk of opening a big can of worms...Soong-Chan Rah's book "The Next Evangelicalism" is worth the price. It's an intentionally provocative book (as shown by the quote from it that I put as my Facebook status a couple of days ago; you might want to stop reading now if you felt that was divisive and unnecessary), and for many people it will feel harsh to read. But I recommend you pick it up.
There are two ways to consider the interplay between gospel and culture. The common assumption is that the gospel is somehow supra-cultural. The other idea is that the gospel doesn't exist in a vacuum, but takes root in a culture and begins to redeem it, becoming something beautiful without losing any truth. The closest metaphor I can think of is an peach tree. The gospel is represented in the seed--all the DNA of the tree is there. But what the tree looks like as it grows is determined also by the climate, the soil, the food, etc. The gospel is pure and true, but it grows within the contexts of the environment (culture) of the people being redeemed. So the problem with the supra-cultural view is that we can become ignorant of how our own culture shapes and interprets the gospel for us, and we begin to equate the way the gospel redeems our culture with the way the gospel always works. This can lead to an elitism that is a hindrance to the community of believers, where we think all peach trees should look exactly the same.
Rah's main point is that the USAmerican church is by and large captive to a western, white culture. I cannot do justice to his defining this here (and I'm sure that just the way Rah says it offends some, for which I apologize, but hope you will push through), but a short definition would be that several centuries of consumerism, materialism, and individualism combined with the less than stellar record we have on treatment of racial minorities have led to a church that at times displays unredeemed or unbiblical values but equates them with redemptive living. His chapter on racism being inherent in the system is particularly challenging.
After discussions of the church growth movement, the emerging church, and other examples of what he terms the "cultural imperialism" of the USAmerican evangelical movement, Rah makes 3 challenges. First, we need to learn from African American and Native American Christian communities. The value of suffering in the scriptures is clear. The suffering of these two communities over the past 400 years has shaped their belief and practice in ways from which white Christians can learn much. Second, Rah challenges us to embrace the alien and stranger among us and learn from the immigrant church. Finally, Ray pushes us to a multicultural understanding of the gospel by learning from the second generation immigrants, who live in two or more cultures--something that from experience I know to open incredible insight into God and the gospel.
The main negative I would suggest about the book is that I wanted a few more practical applications for the lofty principles Rah discusses; for instance what does it look like for a church today to ask forgiveness for racism? What is the best way for churches to embrace a multicultural environment? But if you like to read a book that will challenge your thinking, this is a good one.
So, at the risk of opening a big can of worms...Soong-Chan Rah's book "The Next Evangelicalism" is worth the price. It's an intentionally provocative book (as shown by the quote from it that I put as my Facebook status a couple of days ago; you might want to stop reading now if you felt that was divisive and unnecessary), and for many people it will feel harsh to read. But I recommend you pick it up.
There are two ways to consider the interplay between gospel and culture. The common assumption is that the gospel is somehow supra-cultural. The other idea is that the gospel doesn't exist in a vacuum, but takes root in a culture and begins to redeem it, becoming something beautiful without losing any truth. The closest metaphor I can think of is an peach tree. The gospel is represented in the seed--all the DNA of the tree is there. But what the tree looks like as it grows is determined also by the climate, the soil, the food, etc. The gospel is pure and true, but it grows within the contexts of the environment (culture) of the people being redeemed. So the problem with the supra-cultural view is that we can become ignorant of how our own culture shapes and interprets the gospel for us, and we begin to equate the way the gospel redeems our culture with the way the gospel always works. This can lead to an elitism that is a hindrance to the community of believers, where we think all peach trees should look exactly the same.
Rah's main point is that the USAmerican church is by and large captive to a western, white culture. I cannot do justice to his defining this here (and I'm sure that just the way Rah says it offends some, for which I apologize, but hope you will push through), but a short definition would be that several centuries of consumerism, materialism, and individualism combined with the less than stellar record we have on treatment of racial minorities have led to a church that at times displays unredeemed or unbiblical values but equates them with redemptive living. His chapter on racism being inherent in the system is particularly challenging.
After discussions of the church growth movement, the emerging church, and other examples of what he terms the "cultural imperialism" of the USAmerican evangelical movement, Rah makes 3 challenges. First, we need to learn from African American and Native American Christian communities. The value of suffering in the scriptures is clear. The suffering of these two communities over the past 400 years has shaped their belief and practice in ways from which white Christians can learn much. Second, Rah challenges us to embrace the alien and stranger among us and learn from the immigrant church. Finally, Ray pushes us to a multicultural understanding of the gospel by learning from the second generation immigrants, who live in two or more cultures--something that from experience I know to open incredible insight into God and the gospel.
The main negative I would suggest about the book is that I wanted a few more practical applications for the lofty principles Rah discusses; for instance what does it look like for a church today to ask forgiveness for racism? What is the best way for churches to embrace a multicultural environment? But if you like to read a book that will challenge your thinking, this is a good one.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Book Review: The Great Emergence by Phyllis Tickle
It's probably no surprise to the 2.3 of you that I really enjoy reading books that I disagree with the premise. As long as they are well written and well thought out I like opposing points of view.
It may be a surprise that I really, really like reading books that say what I've tried to say, anticipate questions that I've had, and lay out a reasoned point of view that codifies my own thoughts. The Great Emergence is definitely the latter.
I've read books before that point out the appearance of radical change in church and surrounding culture about every 500 years. (Note, the first time I remember reading it was in a Pat Robertson book--please don't hold that against me.) You can look back through history, really even before the greatest of all upheavals--the life and death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth--and find that just about every half millennium the underpinnings of society, so often reflected in the dominant religious system, are undermined, examined, rethought and reformed. Tickle refers to this as a "rummage sale", where the church and society at large take a look at the "stuff", the accouterments, of worldview and purpose, and "sell off" pieces that don't seem to fit anymore. Here is an overview of the major rummage sales as we refer to them today--keep in mind that these are broad generalizations:
The unraveling happens really in response to one question: where now is our authority? In her words:
The question of "where now is our authority?" is the fundamental or foundational question of all human existence and/or endeavor, be it individual or that of a larger, social unit. Without an answer to it, the individual personality or the personality of the group at large alike fall into disarray and ultimate chaos. It is Hell where there is no answer to that question.
In our time, the Great Emergence is questioning the worldview that emerged in the Great Reformation, namely sola scriptura. That is not to say that the Bible is unimportant to emergents, but that the way we approach the Bible will be redefined. The rules we use to obey God's authority are changing.
Tickle takes some shots at defining what that emerging thing looks like, and I'll try to get to that in my next post. Until then, what do you think about this idea of where authority comes from? In my own tradition, there was in the past decade heated debate about whether the Bible is our authority or whether Jesus was our authority. Is there a difference?
It may be a surprise that I really, really like reading books that say what I've tried to say, anticipate questions that I've had, and lay out a reasoned point of view that codifies my own thoughts. The Great Emergence is definitely the latter.
I've read books before that point out the appearance of radical change in church and surrounding culture about every 500 years. (Note, the first time I remember reading it was in a Pat Robertson book--please don't hold that against me.) You can look back through history, really even before the greatest of all upheavals--the life and death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth--and find that just about every half millennium the underpinnings of society, so often reflected in the dominant religious system, are undermined, examined, rethought and reformed. Tickle refers to this as a "rummage sale", where the church and society at large take a look at the "stuff", the accouterments, of worldview and purpose, and "sell off" pieces that don't seem to fit anymore. Here is an overview of the major rummage sales as we refer to them today--keep in mind that these are broad generalizations:
- The exodus of the Jews from Egypt
- The anointing of a human king over Israel
- Return from exile and eventual Maccabean revolt
- The life of Jesus Christ
- The papacy of Gregory the Great and the monastic movement he helped perpetuate
- The Great Schism between Eastern and Western churches
- The Great Reformation
- The Great Emergence
The unraveling happens really in response to one question: where now is our authority? In her words:
The question of "where now is our authority?" is the fundamental or foundational question of all human existence and/or endeavor, be it individual or that of a larger, social unit. Without an answer to it, the individual personality or the personality of the group at large alike fall into disarray and ultimate chaos. It is Hell where there is no answer to that question.
In our time, the Great Emergence is questioning the worldview that emerged in the Great Reformation, namely sola scriptura. That is not to say that the Bible is unimportant to emergents, but that the way we approach the Bible will be redefined. The rules we use to obey God's authority are changing.
Tickle takes some shots at defining what that emerging thing looks like, and I'll try to get to that in my next post. Until then, what do you think about this idea of where authority comes from? In my own tradition, there was in the past decade heated debate about whether the Bible is our authority or whether Jesus was our authority. Is there a difference?
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Those rare moments when I think "I am a Baptist..."
Let's be honest. I've often not been proud of my Baptist heritage.
I grew up in Texas Southern Baptist (SBC) churches. Multiple generations of SBC members and ministers in my family. But in the past couple of decades as an adult, I've shied away from self-identifying as a Baptist.
Part of it is my postmodern bent, I guess, or the times in which we live. Brand loyalty is gone, especially in religious communal choices. Our pro-choice, consumeristic church world has left us skeptical of any labels. Especially labels that come with the baggage of Southern Baptists.
Last week I read Christine Wicker's book from last year called "The Fall of the Evangelical Nation." I thought I was cynical. Wicker, who I heard speak at last year's Cooperative Baptist Fellowship (CBF) general assembly, was for more than a decade the religion editor at the Dallas Morning News. My guess is you learn enough in a job like that about the human frailties of supposed holy men and women that cynicism almost sounds optimistic.
The book by and large was good, written primarily to introduce a non-evangelical-church-going world to the realm of Evangelicalism. She makes the case that the conservative Christian movement is not what it has claimed to be, not a powerful force of maybe 50% of the population, but in reality something more like 7% at best. But that's not really the point of this little thought. Just wanted to note that I read that back and was reminded again of my shame at my traditionally Baptist brethren, or at least at some of them.
But tonight, back at this year's CBF assembly, I heard a man speak that always makes me think "I AM a Baptist." His name is Bill Leonard, and he's the founding dean of the divinity school at Wake Forest.
Bill Leonard is a historian, maybe the premier Baptist historian of our time. Okay, not maybe. I say he is. The first time I heard Dr. Leonard speak at Baylor University a few years ago, it was at a conference discussing among other things, how the Baptist influence has waned and the Christian light has dimmed at several traditionally Baptist schools, and Wake Forest was listed among them. This physically small man in a bowtie stood before the crowd and challenged the supposition that because a university no longer touts a certain line, it means that God has departed and the light has left. He basically said that he would wait right there for a few moments for an apology, and if one was not forthcoming he would return to North Carolina without delivering anything further of his speech. An apology was offered, and he continued, showing only grace and wisdom in the rest of his speech.
As a Baptist historian, he understands about the last 400 years since the first self-identified Baptists returned to England and opposed the state church there. (NOTE: Happy Birthday, Baptists.) Baptists have from the beginning been dissidents, who believe that religious liberty is not true of anyone if it's not true of everyone. Baptists were kicked out of most of the colonies, tried and often killed as heretics. My forbears believed that the church was a local community of believers who were called to prophetically bear witness to the grace and love and liberty found in Jesus Christ.
When I hear Bill speak, I think that perhaps I am a Baptist.
Perhaps. But then I think of stuff like this, and I think perhaps not. At least not in today's vernacular.
I grew up in Texas Southern Baptist (SBC) churches. Multiple generations of SBC members and ministers in my family. But in the past couple of decades as an adult, I've shied away from self-identifying as a Baptist.
Part of it is my postmodern bent, I guess, or the times in which we live. Brand loyalty is gone, especially in religious communal choices. Our pro-choice, consumeristic church world has left us skeptical of any labels. Especially labels that come with the baggage of Southern Baptists.
Last week I read Christine Wicker's book from last year called "The Fall of the Evangelical Nation." I thought I was cynical. Wicker, who I heard speak at last year's Cooperative Baptist Fellowship (CBF) general assembly, was for more than a decade the religion editor at the Dallas Morning News. My guess is you learn enough in a job like that about the human frailties of supposed holy men and women that cynicism almost sounds optimistic.
The book by and large was good, written primarily to introduce a non-evangelical-church-going world to the realm of Evangelicalism. She makes the case that the conservative Christian movement is not what it has claimed to be, not a powerful force of maybe 50% of the population, but in reality something more like 7% at best. But that's not really the point of this little thought. Just wanted to note that I read that back and was reminded again of my shame at my traditionally Baptist brethren, or at least at some of them.
But tonight, back at this year's CBF assembly, I heard a man speak that always makes me think "I AM a Baptist." His name is Bill Leonard, and he's the founding dean of the divinity school at Wake Forest.
Bill Leonard is a historian, maybe the premier Baptist historian of our time. Okay, not maybe. I say he is. The first time I heard Dr. Leonard speak at Baylor University a few years ago, it was at a conference discussing among other things, how the Baptist influence has waned and the Christian light has dimmed at several traditionally Baptist schools, and Wake Forest was listed among them. This physically small man in a bowtie stood before the crowd and challenged the supposition that because a university no longer touts a certain line, it means that God has departed and the light has left. He basically said that he would wait right there for a few moments for an apology, and if one was not forthcoming he would return to North Carolina without delivering anything further of his speech. An apology was offered, and he continued, showing only grace and wisdom in the rest of his speech.
As a Baptist historian, he understands about the last 400 years since the first self-identified Baptists returned to England and opposed the state church there. (NOTE: Happy Birthday, Baptists.) Baptists have from the beginning been dissidents, who believe that religious liberty is not true of anyone if it's not true of everyone. Baptists were kicked out of most of the colonies, tried and often killed as heretics. My forbears believed that the church was a local community of believers who were called to prophetically bear witness to the grace and love and liberty found in Jesus Christ.
When I hear Bill speak, I think that perhaps I am a Baptist.
Perhaps. But then I think of stuff like this, and I think perhaps not. At least not in today's vernacular.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Rock, Paper, Scissors
I started reading this interesting book by Len Fisher a few weeks ago. It is subtitled "Game Theory in Everyday Life." It takes different facets of game theory (Nash's equilibrium, the prisoners' dilemma, etc) and shows how every day we make decisions that show game theory to be true.
What I really find interesting though, is that--even though Fisher makes it a point to say that religious authority hasn't been sufficient for changing behavior--I find it interesting that applying the teachings of Jesus would throw game theory "win-lose" or "lose-lose" situations out the window. This is the subversive teachings of Jesus--make yourself a servant. Take care of others first. Do what's best for your neighbor. We too much make these out to be not doing the negative version, e.g. when we say we love our neighbor what we really usually mean is that we don't hate our neighbor. Instead of looking out for others good, we try not to have a negative impact on others while looking out for our own good.
But following Jesus demands the positive, proactive version of actually loving and serving.
Back to the book though, it's worth the read. I thought it had some challenging mathematical concepts, and was taking the time to read it well to hopefully understand it.
Then my 14 year old genius son read it in 2 days and we had some great conversations.
What I really find interesting though, is that--even though Fisher makes it a point to say that religious authority hasn't been sufficient for changing behavior--I find it interesting that applying the teachings of Jesus would throw game theory "win-lose" or "lose-lose" situations out the window. This is the subversive teachings of Jesus--make yourself a servant. Take care of others first. Do what's best for your neighbor. We too much make these out to be not doing the negative version, e.g. when we say we love our neighbor what we really usually mean is that we don't hate our neighbor. Instead of looking out for others good, we try not to have a negative impact on others while looking out for our own good.
But following Jesus demands the positive, proactive version of actually loving and serving.
Back to the book though, it's worth the read. I thought it had some challenging mathematical concepts, and was taking the time to read it well to hopefully understand it.
Then my 14 year old genius son read it in 2 days and we had some great conversations.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Anne Rice's "Christ the Lord"
Anne Rice is best known, at least by me, for "The Vampire Chronicles." But apparently a few years ago, she became a Christian, and wanted to write something about Jesus. The result is "Christ the Lord", a novel that describes the year before Jesus publicly announced his ministry.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the book. It's a pretty easy read (I read it all yesterday in 4 hours of airplane travel). The plot involves Jesus' interaction with his family and kinsmen and the difficulties of being "Yeshua the Sinless", the name they (often derogatorily) call him. The absolute best thing about the book is the portrayal of Jesus' humanity without compromising on the deity. Jesus really struggles with the temptations of life--anger over people's treating each other poorly, desire for marriage and family, responding to untrue accusations, and the like. When the writer of Hebrews talks about Jesus being tempted in every way as a man but still without sin--Rice describes that in a real and understandable way.
I have always wondered what was on Jesus' mind as he grew up--what did he know and when did he know it? When he was 6 or 12 or 20, did he know everything about his calling and nature? If not, how did he learn it? Does having to learn it somehow deny his deity? The book approaches this from the standpoint of "choosing not to know" certain things, which I think is pretty good theology, and the story works well.
On the downside, I thought there were too many characters, none of which is developed as well as they could be. This is especially true as she introduces the first disciples of Jesus. For example, she talks about Jesus' renaming of Simon to Peter, and calling James and John the Sons of Thunder, but it's like he just made it up on the spot and there wasn't any meaning to it. I picture those nicknames being come up with in circumstances where everyone there understands why Jesus calls them that. But she apparently wanted to get them in, so that's all crammed into one short chapter at the end of the book.
Again, overall I really enjoyed it. It's definitely within Roman Catholic theological realms as it deals with Jesus, Mary, and their family situation, but non Catholics shouldn't find anything that makes the book disagreeable on foundational issues.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the book. It's a pretty easy read (I read it all yesterday in 4 hours of airplane travel). The plot involves Jesus' interaction with his family and kinsmen and the difficulties of being "Yeshua the Sinless", the name they (often derogatorily) call him. The absolute best thing about the book is the portrayal of Jesus' humanity without compromising on the deity. Jesus really struggles with the temptations of life--anger over people's treating each other poorly, desire for marriage and family, responding to untrue accusations, and the like. When the writer of Hebrews talks about Jesus being tempted in every way as a man but still without sin--Rice describes that in a real and understandable way.
I have always wondered what was on Jesus' mind as he grew up--what did he know and when did he know it? When he was 6 or 12 or 20, did he know everything about his calling and nature? If not, how did he learn it? Does having to learn it somehow deny his deity? The book approaches this from the standpoint of "choosing not to know" certain things, which I think is pretty good theology, and the story works well.
On the downside, I thought there were too many characters, none of which is developed as well as they could be. This is especially true as she introduces the first disciples of Jesus. For example, she talks about Jesus' renaming of Simon to Peter, and calling James and John the Sons of Thunder, but it's like he just made it up on the spot and there wasn't any meaning to it. I picture those nicknames being come up with in circumstances where everyone there understands why Jesus calls them that. But she apparently wanted to get them in, so that's all crammed into one short chapter at the end of the book.
Again, overall I really enjoyed it. It's definitely within Roman Catholic theological realms as it deals with Jesus, Mary, and their family situation, but non Catholics shouldn't find anything that makes the book disagreeable on foundational issues.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
The 5 Dysfunctions of a Team
I had skimmed this book several years ago, but moving into a new role prompts new learning desires. I like Patrick Lencioni's writing style. He spent 95% of the book telling a fable, a story about a new CEO coming into a dot.com company. The old CEO was still on the team, and the new one was not from the tech industry. But in a series of off-sites and through their work she led them to see working as a team was the most valuable asset they could have. The book could have slid into pollyanish feel good stuff, but Lenioni navigated around that pretty well.
Here are the 5 dysfunctions, from the most basic up:
Absence of trust: this leads to a sense of invulnerability and the building of silos within an organization. Trust is key to any team, and it can only be earned and given over time.
Fear of conflict: this leads to an artificial harmony as team members avoid the difficult discussions.
Lack of commitment: this leads to ambiguity in decision-making and no follow through.
Avoidance of accountability: this leads to low standards of excellence.
Inattentiveness to results: this leads to a focus on status and ego of the individuals instead of the team, because there is no focus on the team's results. Often this can be disguised by individuals hitting their own goals irrespective of the team's success.
Overall a good book. It's a quick read, too, probably just an hour or two.
Here are the 5 dysfunctions, from the most basic up:
Absence of trust: this leads to a sense of invulnerability and the building of silos within an organization. Trust is key to any team, and it can only be earned and given over time.
Fear of conflict: this leads to an artificial harmony as team members avoid the difficult discussions.
Lack of commitment: this leads to ambiguity in decision-making and no follow through.
Avoidance of accountability: this leads to low standards of excellence.
Inattentiveness to results: this leads to a focus on status and ego of the individuals instead of the team, because there is no focus on the team's results. Often this can be disguised by individuals hitting their own goals irrespective of the team's success.
Overall a good book. It's a quick read, too, probably just an hour or two.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Things I Overheard While Talking to Myself

I started reading Alan Alda's book last week, not so much because I'm a big Alda fan (I am a Hawkeye Pierce fan, and loved his Arnie Vinnick character in the last season of West Wing--for more than just the name), but because I love the title. And the book takes a nice twisting of the memoirs thing by weaving in old speeches Alda has given at various points along the way. Here's a couple of quotes I like:
"Terrifying myself, it turns out, is one of the ways I have of feeling alive. It gives a sense of accomplishment to my life."
I find myself here too. It's why I like roller coasters and scary movies. It's why I want to jump out of an airplane someday. There is really a sense of accomplishment in facing down fear.
On meeting holocaust survivor Simon Wiesenthal:
"No matter what the world had done to [the Jews], through their tears, they could find something to laugh at. There was almost no pain that couldn't be eased by humor. The ability to translate misery into something else gave them power over it."
There's a lot of truth in that last sentence! Translating misery into something else--that's the real definition of joy, I think.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The 2 Questions...Everything Must Change (2)
Brian asks himself and us the two big questions:
#1 What are the biggest problems in the world today?
#2 What does Jesus have to say about these global problems?
Unfortunately, too many of today's Evangelicals would answer #1 as something to the effect of "people are dying and going to hell." And there's no question that's a problem. But the tendency is to focus on the "going to hell" part and not the "dying" part. I think Brian's trying to change that tendency. We have allowed the kingdom of God to be redefined as going to heaven when you die. But Jesus talked about the kingdom at hand, the kingdom here and now, the good news for us today. I have adopted as my own metaphor Brian's use of "God's dreams coming true" as how I try to describe the kingdom of heaven. God has dreams for this world, as we have dreams for our kids. He wants those dreams to become reality. But they don't always do so. I think that this is better than talking about God's "will", which can be a confusing topic, especially when you deal with evil and suffering. But talking about God's dreams for this world brings a fresh perspective into the discussion. Yes, he could snap his fingers and make his dreams come true, but he's not into that. For some reason, he has chosen to work in and through us to make his dreams come true, his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.
For Brian some of this came to a head when he was visiting Africa to speak in a pastor's conference. He had many discussions with those pastors, and they referred to the kingdom of God often in terms of colonial and post-colonial worldviews. Colonial thinking led to certain attitudes and actions from both the colonizers and the colonized. Post-colonial thinking changes those radically for both groups of people. Put yourself in either group, and let your imagination wonder for a few minutes, and you'll get the picture.
In the same way, colonialism is like "the gospel of avoiding hell" and post-colonialism like "the gospel of the kingdom of God." The reason "everything must change" is because the old way of looking at the gospel as hell-avoidance led to many wrong conclusions about how to approach this life. As one participant in the African conference said "Today, for the first time, I see what Jesus meant by the kingdom of God. I see that it's about changing this world, not just escaping it and retreating into our churches. If Jesus' message of the kingdom of God is true, then everything must change. Everything must change."
So what does Jesus have to say about the world's greatest problems? What does he say about war, poverty, slavery, human-trafficking, AIDS/HIV and other epidemics, and the like?
#1 What are the biggest problems in the world today?
#2 What does Jesus have to say about these global problems?
Unfortunately, too many of today's Evangelicals would answer #1 as something to the effect of "people are dying and going to hell." And there's no question that's a problem. But the tendency is to focus on the "going to hell" part and not the "dying" part. I think Brian's trying to change that tendency. We have allowed the kingdom of God to be redefined as going to heaven when you die. But Jesus talked about the kingdom at hand, the kingdom here and now, the good news for us today. I have adopted as my own metaphor Brian's use of "God's dreams coming true" as how I try to describe the kingdom of heaven. God has dreams for this world, as we have dreams for our kids. He wants those dreams to become reality. But they don't always do so. I think that this is better than talking about God's "will", which can be a confusing topic, especially when you deal with evil and suffering. But talking about God's dreams for this world brings a fresh perspective into the discussion. Yes, he could snap his fingers and make his dreams come true, but he's not into that. For some reason, he has chosen to work in and through us to make his dreams come true, his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.
For Brian some of this came to a head when he was visiting Africa to speak in a pastor's conference. He had many discussions with those pastors, and they referred to the kingdom of God often in terms of colonial and post-colonial worldviews. Colonial thinking led to certain attitudes and actions from both the colonizers and the colonized. Post-colonial thinking changes those radically for both groups of people. Put yourself in either group, and let your imagination wonder for a few minutes, and you'll get the picture.
In the same way, colonialism is like "the gospel of avoiding hell" and post-colonialism like "the gospel of the kingdom of God." The reason "everything must change" is because the old way of looking at the gospel as hell-avoidance led to many wrong conclusions about how to approach this life. As one participant in the African conference said "Today, for the first time, I see what Jesus meant by the kingdom of God. I see that it's about changing this world, not just escaping it and retreating into our churches. If Jesus' message of the kingdom of God is true, then everything must change. Everything must change."
So what does Jesus have to say about the world's greatest problems? What does he say about war, poverty, slavery, human-trafficking, AIDS/HIV and other epidemics, and the like?
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Everything Must Change

It's no secret that Brian McLaren is one of my favorite writers. When a friend recommended "A New Kind of Christian" to me years ago as being reflective of my own journey in following Jesus, I immediately knew I had found a close friend (only in writing; I've never met Brian, but I will use his first name a lot because McLaren is harder to type...). In the semi-fictional New Kind of Christian series, Brian introduces us to some characters that are grappling with following Jesus without the constructs of modernity. Some of his other books regurgitate earlier material, but last year's "Everything Must Change" is, I think, a groundbreaking work for what followers of Jesus ought to be doing in our world today.
So since I'm nearly finished reading the book, I want to spend some time blogging on it as a review for myself and hopefully a challenge for you, the 3.4 readers of this blog.
In chapter 1, Brian introduces some of his (awesome if you ask me) metaphors used throughout his speaking and writing. He talks about our "framing story" or worldview, or what Lesslie Newbiggen called "plausibility structures" as what really needs to change. Throughout the book he confronts us with places where we've bought into an unbiblical, even ungodly framing story and somehow baptized it with a few Christian pieces and claim it as belonging to Jesus.
He also uses the term "suicide machine" to describe the corrupt systems that infiltrate our world--particularly the economic, political and military systems--and reprograms them to work for evil instead of good. He alternatively uses "an undetected storm, an undiagnosed disease, an unacknowledged addiction, or a machine that has gone destructive" metaphors to describe "our plethora of critical global crises" in our world today.
What are those crises? Let's end today's post with Brian's list:
1. Environmental breakdown directly caused by corrupted, unsustainable economic systems in the suicide machine (prosperity crisis).
2. The huge and growing gap between rich and poor (equity crisis).
3. The danger of cataclysmic war we constantly live with (security crisis).
4. The failure of the world's religions to provide a framing story capable of healing or reducing the three previous crises (spirituality crisis).
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Modern Physics and Ancient Faith, book summary
Okay, a few weeks back I promised some thoughts on Stephen Barr's book. Well, let me first of all say that it's great reading, and it's stimulating information. And while I'm sure he worked at getting it all down to a less scientific reading level, it's also challenging! There are lots of technical explanations of various processes and theories, so I do recommend it, but let's just say I've had to renew it 3 times from my library 'cause it ain't no 1-hour read!
The book revolves around what Barr calls 5 "plot twists" along the way of trying to write off religion and approach the universe in an exclusively materialistic philosophy. He introduces these early, then the remainder of the book is opening up each plot twist from a scientific point of view.
#1 The Big Bang points to a beginning. Materialism had posited an eternal universe, where matter had always existed. This wasn't a new thought (ancient pagan Greeks also thought this) but much of the 19th and 20th century scientists pushed the idea. But evidence pointing to the Big Bang points to a beginning.
#2 The complexity and beauty of the mathematics underlying the laws of physics and the even deeper laws that seem to govern those laws does not answer the question of "why the universe?" In fact it seems to beg the question even further, moving it to the front of discussion.
#3 "The universe and its laws seem in some respects to be balanced on a knife-edge..." Movement either way, and life doesn't exist. There are a series of "anthropic coincidences" that defy the chance-requirements of naturalistic materialism.
#4 The existence of human intellect pushes us to see the human mind as more than just machine.
#5 Quantum theory has brought about a revolution in the scientific determinism inherint in materialism.
This is obviously a very brief summary of the book. But if you're interested in learning some scientific facts and seeing how those facts point for or against materialism as a philosophical explanation of the universe, I recommend this book.
The book revolves around what Barr calls 5 "plot twists" along the way of trying to write off religion and approach the universe in an exclusively materialistic philosophy. He introduces these early, then the remainder of the book is opening up each plot twist from a scientific point of view.
#1 The Big Bang points to a beginning. Materialism had posited an eternal universe, where matter had always existed. This wasn't a new thought (ancient pagan Greeks also thought this) but much of the 19th and 20th century scientists pushed the idea. But evidence pointing to the Big Bang points to a beginning.
#2 The complexity and beauty of the mathematics underlying the laws of physics and the even deeper laws that seem to govern those laws does not answer the question of "why the universe?" In fact it seems to beg the question even further, moving it to the front of discussion.
#3 "The universe and its laws seem in some respects to be balanced on a knife-edge..." Movement either way, and life doesn't exist. There are a series of "anthropic coincidences" that defy the chance-requirements of naturalistic materialism.
#4 The existence of human intellect pushes us to see the human mind as more than just machine.
#5 Quantum theory has brought about a revolution in the scientific determinism inherint in materialism.
This is obviously a very brief summary of the book. But if you're interested in learning some scientific facts and seeing how those facts point for or against materialism as a philosophical explanation of the universe, I recommend this book.
Monday, November 05, 2007
From this morning's reading of Merton...
"Our ability to be sincere with ourselves, with God, and with other men is really proportionate to our capacity for sincere love. And the sincerity of our love depends in large measure upon our capacity to believe ourselves loved. Most of the moral and mental and even religious complexities of our time go back to our desperate fear that we are not and can never be really loved by anyone...
"The real reason why so few men believe in God is that they have ceased to believe that even a God can love them. But their despair is, perhaps, more respectable than the insincerity of those who think they can trick God into loving them for something they are not. This kind of duplicity is, after all, fairly common among so-called 'believers,' who consciously cling to the hope that God Himself, placated by prayer, will support their egotism and their insincerity, and help them to achieve their own selfish ends. Their worship is of little value to themselves and does no honor to God. They not only consider Him a potential rival (and, therefore, place themselves on a basis of equality with Him), but they think He is base enough to make a deal with them, and this is a great blasphemy."
Thomas Merton, "No Man is an Island"
"The real reason why so few men believe in God is that they have ceased to believe that even a God can love them. But their despair is, perhaps, more respectable than the insincerity of those who think they can trick God into loving them for something they are not. This kind of duplicity is, after all, fairly common among so-called 'believers,' who consciously cling to the hope that God Himself, placated by prayer, will support their egotism and their insincerity, and help them to achieve their own selfish ends. Their worship is of little value to themselves and does no honor to God. They not only consider Him a potential rival (and, therefore, place themselves on a basis of equality with Him), but they think He is base enough to make a deal with them, and this is a great blasphemy."
Thomas Merton, "No Man is an Island"
Monday, October 22, 2007
Sincerity and truth in postmodernity

I'm still reading "No Man is an Island" by Thomas Merton for my morning devotionals. I say "still" because like most books I use for devotional stimulation I muddle through them. I'm nearing the end, though, and Merton has really been in my journals a lot, even though I haven't blogged much about it.
But today I wanted to through a few thoughts down on paper, or on a blog, as the case may be. Actually, it was both since I already journaled several pages on this topic. Merton is discussing sincerity, in particular in it's comingling with truth, or as he says "sincerity in the fullest sense must be more than a temperamental disposition to be frank. It is a simplicity of spirit which is preserved by the will to be true. It implies an obligation to manifest the truth and to defend it."
It has become too easy to lie in our culture. "Life has become so easy that we think we can get along without telling the truth. A liar no longer needs to feel that his lies may involve him in starvation. If living were a little more precarious, and if a person who could not be trusted found it more difficult to get along with other men, we would not deceive ourselves and one another so carelessly." Lying is interwoven into our politics, our work, our marriages, even our religious activities, and especially our self-talk. "...the whole world has learned to deride veracity or to ignore it. Half the civilized world makes a living by telling lies. Advertising, propaganda, and all the other forms of publicity that have taken the place of truth have taught men to take it for granted that they can tell other people whatever they like provided that it sounds plausible and evokes some kind of shallow emotional response." (Keep in mind that Merton wrote this in 1955!)
"Americans have always felt that they were protected against the advertising business by their own sophistication. If we only knew how naive our sophistication really is! It protects us against nothing. We love the things we pretend to laugh at. We would rather buy a bad toothpaste that is well advertised than a good one that is not advertised at all. Most Americans wouldn't be seen dead in a car their neighbors had never heard of.
"Sincerity becomes impossible in a world that is ruled by a falsity that it thinks it is clever enough to detect. Propaganda is constantly held up to contempt, but in contemning it we come to love it after all. In the end we will not be able to get along without it...
"The arguments of religious men are so often insincere, and their insincerity is proportionate to their anger. Why do we get angry about what we believe? Because we do not really believe it. Or else what we pretend to be defending as the 'truth' is really our own self-esteem. A man of sincerity is less interested in defending the truth than in stating it clearly, for he thinks that if the truth be clearly seen it can very well take care of itself."
This is exactly why I like living in the post-Christian, post-modern type of world. Because truth has been deconstructed, people don't think that there is absolute truth any longer. We debate people as to whether or not this is true (it is not), but we have an opportunity, a kairos moment, to learn how to state the Truth that is life in Jesus of Nazareth in a way that does not carry all the baggage of the past. And it can (and does!) speak for itself.
The old sermon story of the pastor's notes that reminded him that a particular point was weak, so he should raise his voice and pound the pulpit to emphasize it comes to mind. This is what our telling of the Jesus story becomes without sincerity. It becomes pulpit-pounding, and people often see it for just what it is: an insincere attempt to manipulate someone into the truth instead of a clear telling of the Truth--what Jesus called lifting up himself to the world--and letting that Truth draw people to it.
While I admit that pomos take this idea too far and throw out any sense of "truth", to me this is the epitome of authenticity.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Recently read book reviews
I finished two books last week--"Who is My Enemy?" by Rich Nathan, a pastor in Columbus was a decent book, written by a conservative pastor encouraging a more neighborly approach to those we think of as enemies of the church. It would be a good practical read to give someone who is having a hard time believing that God calls us to love people in close proximity, building relationships with them, whether they are postmoderns, homosexuals, or new-age believers (the categories Nathan) discusses.
A better book was Ted Dekker's nonfiction work, "The Slumber of Christianity." His main point is that we have missed the best that this life has to offer precisely because we have focused too much on ONLY this life. We have lost our sense of heaven. If we truly have a living hope for the next life, the pleasures of this one become that much more real, that much more satisfying, because we're not looking to them for ULTIMATE satisfaction. They bring pleasure in their proper context, in the way that God intended for them to.
He describes catching a glimpse of heaven as being like in a dark room where you can't see anything. You have to fumble around and find food and drink, but since you can't see it, some of it is good and some of it is bad. Then one day a brick falls from the ceiling and a shaft of light penetrates the darkness, and you realize that your dark room is not all that exists in life. There is something outside, something beyond the walls. Unfortunately, you get used to this shaft of light, and it too becomes just something to help you see better inside the room, instead of pointing to what will come when the walls fall completely down.
Dekker also talks a lot about the role of imagination in our relationship with God, something that is spot-on. He recommends 3 disciplines: meditation on the hope God offers, reading on the hope of heaven, and the corporate discipline of encouraging the hope of eternal life, especially through singing.
All in all, I like Dekker's book. In my opinion he comes close to throwing the baby out with the bath water with his focus on eternal life after we die, because eternal life begins now and here, in this world. But he's right in this sense: the evil that is real in this current existence makes us only see darkly the truest pleasures of etneral life in the kingdom. There is something to the idea that after death--or maybe better to say after resurrection--the walls fall down and we're living in the light, instead of in the darkness.
Here's his four point summary of the book:
1. We should intentionally set our minds on heaven.
2. We should enjoy pleasure as it was intended because it draws us to heaven.
3. We should allow the pain that comes our way to push us into our Creator's arms.
4. Because our hope is made real by a fully fleshed vision of a reality that awaits beyond this one, we shoudl fan that vision to life through songs and reading and meditation.
A better book was Ted Dekker's nonfiction work, "The Slumber of Christianity." His main point is that we have missed the best that this life has to offer precisely because we have focused too much on ONLY this life. We have lost our sense of heaven. If we truly have a living hope for the next life, the pleasures of this one become that much more real, that much more satisfying, because we're not looking to them for ULTIMATE satisfaction. They bring pleasure in their proper context, in the way that God intended for them to.
He describes catching a glimpse of heaven as being like in a dark room where you can't see anything. You have to fumble around and find food and drink, but since you can't see it, some of it is good and some of it is bad. Then one day a brick falls from the ceiling and a shaft of light penetrates the darkness, and you realize that your dark room is not all that exists in life. There is something outside, something beyond the walls. Unfortunately, you get used to this shaft of light, and it too becomes just something to help you see better inside the room, instead of pointing to what will come when the walls fall completely down.
Dekker also talks a lot about the role of imagination in our relationship with God, something that is spot-on. He recommends 3 disciplines: meditation on the hope God offers, reading on the hope of heaven, and the corporate discipline of encouraging the hope of eternal life, especially through singing.
All in all, I like Dekker's book. In my opinion he comes close to throwing the baby out with the bath water with his focus on eternal life after we die, because eternal life begins now and here, in this world. But he's right in this sense: the evil that is real in this current existence makes us only see darkly the truest pleasures of etneral life in the kingdom. There is something to the idea that after death--or maybe better to say after resurrection--the walls fall down and we're living in the light, instead of in the darkness.
Here's his four point summary of the book:
1. We should intentionally set our minds on heaven.
2. We should enjoy pleasure as it was intended because it draws us to heaven.
3. We should allow the pain that comes our way to push us into our Creator's arms.
4. Because our hope is made real by a fully fleshed vision of a reality that awaits beyond this one, we shoudl fan that vision to life through songs and reading and meditation.
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