Wednesday, December 31, 2008
To really get to the heart of this book, I think you need to understand John Burke's target audience. As I understand it, this book is focusing on two groups of people:
1. People who have never known the healing, transforming, redeeming power of their Creator God, people living lives separate from the God who made them, people seeking hope and comfort and joy in everything but God, and who are becoming desperately aware of the fact that it just doesn't work. Entertainment, sex, booze and drugs, achievements in life, even family - none of those bring true, lasting fulfillment.
2. People who have been "Christians," or at least "church-goers" for some time, but have never been able to figure out how it all transcends Sunday morning. Those who enjoy the company they find at church, the friends, the inspiration from the music and speakers, but who have yet to truly experience the fullness of God's grace and mercy in every facet of their lives. They've gone to classes and tried to read their Bibles. . .but still, life somehow seems incomplete.
Burke writes that Jesus "insisted that God intends for you to live a life that fulfills your deepest desires and transforms you into a life-giving person." The problem, though, is that most people are living lives separated from the God who gives that life. "God wants to meet our deepest needs, but early in life we get wired to meet our needs without God." This is obviously true of those living lives apart from Christ, but often it is true of Christians as well. Most Christians were led into their first steps of faith, and then left with no real understanding of what it means to "abide in Christ." Thus, while they may be "in Christ," their day-to-day lives tend to operate more by the world's methods than God's.
Recognizing this problem, Burke decided to give his church a challenge - he called it the 60/60 Challenge. That challenge is the heart of this book.
In essence, the charge is to spend 60 days conforming every thought to God and his ways. To constantly keep God and his Word in mind, to stay in continual dialogue with God, seeking his will and his desire in each and every situation.
Since even the most devout would have trouble giving every moment over to God, especially in the first weeks of this experiment, Burke suggested that participants buy a watch or timer that beeps every 60 minutes. Thus, at least once an hour, those taking the challenge are reminded to stop whatever they are doing and once again seek the Lord. "Am I pleasing God in this discussion?" "Am I obedient in what my eyes are gazing upon right now?" "Am I behaving in a Godly manner in my relationships with my friends and family right now?" "Is this really how God desires that I treat the drivers around me as I commute to work?"
Over time, Burke postulates, as we slowly seek God on a regular, moment-by-moment basis, God will come to us in new ways, transforming us from the inside out, giving us grace and a deeper knowledge of his love for us, while at the same time using us more and more to be agents of grace and redemption to the world around us.
That is all, essentially, the first part of the book. The second part is an introduction to the basics of victorious Christian living. If you've been living faithfully in Christ for 30 years, if you have a deep, rich, vibrant prayer life, if you gladly serve and love all those around you, if you know God's hand at work deep in your soul, then this is all so much basic review. But for the rest, there is a lot of valuable information here.
Some of the areas Burke covers include
- Prayer (what it is and how to do it)
- How to walk in simple faith and trust as God directs
- How to have healthy relationships (read: conflict resolution)
- Accountability with others
- Spiritual Self-examination
- Overcoming addictions and destructive habits
- Basic spiritual disciplines (Burke calls it a "spiritual workout")
- Service of others
As he works his way through these various thoughts and ideas, Burke assumes the reader is doing the 60-60 experiment, and thus offers questions for thought and reflection as you go about your day, seeking to hear from, and serve, God.
One of the things I appreciate about this book is that it's grounded in real people's lives. Burke pastors a large church in the Austin area, and he fills the pages of this book with the stories of people he knows in his church and community. This is not simply theory, but scriptural truths proven by the experiences of people who have found true hope and healing, who have overcome addictions and negative thoughts, people who have found success as they have turned their broken lives over to the Lord who heals.
I appreciated the simplicity and honesty of this book. I also appreciated its breadth. He covers a lot of different areas, and gives many, many good ideas to the reader, probably too many to handle at once. But there is ample opportunity for anybody to find something helpful within the pages if Soul Revolution. I would have no trouble recommending this book to anybody who is tired and bored and fed up with trying to manufacture happiness through the world's standards, and who is ready to see if God can't clean up the mess of their lives.
On the other hand, that also ties into the one of the complaints I have for this book. In the end, it becomes awfully myopic, awfully singular, awfully individualistic. One could walk away from this book believing that God's main goal in life is to make me happy and content. That it's all about me. In fact, early on in the book, Burke writes, "[In John 10:10-11] Jesus explained that someone out there wants to destroy your life and rob you of joy - but that someone is not God. The whole reason Jesus came was to lead us into life in all its fullness. That's what motivated him to lay down his life for you - so that you would trust him and follow him into a more fulfilling, life-giving experience than you can ever imagine." I might argue against that a bit, especially when he says "The whole reason. . ." I can think of a few other reasons, such as universal redemption, the defeat of Satan and all the powers of darkness, the overthrow of evil dictators and the uplifting of those trodden down by diabolical systems, feeding of the hungry and freeing of the slaves, even to bring God's Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. While Jesus truly desires to bring life and freedom to his children, we must be careful that we don't stop there, believing his plan is complete once our own problems are taken care of.
My other complaint is a subtle yet persistent theme across the pages that says, essentially, when we turn our lives fully to Christ everything turns happy again. Depression goes away, financial problems disappear, marriages recover, addictions are defeated, diseases are healed. Of course, I believe all that to be true. The power of Christ overcomes all that is broken, it brings healing and redemption. I have seen people find joy, I have seen relationships restored in Christ, I have seen (metaphorically) the dead rise from their graves. If God wasn't able to do these things, he wouldn't be worth following. But the problem with this book is that it sends the message that all these good things will happen every time to everybody. Perhaps Burke doesn't exactly believe this, but I find no room in the book for those for whom the marriage still falls apart. Or those who don't receive healing for their depression. I know too many fine Christians who still struggle deeply with issues of depression and mental illness, who have cried out for healing and not found it - for whatever reason, God has chosen not to grant healing. But those stories don't exist in Soul Revolution. There doesn't seem to be any room for the idea that God might actually allow people to remain sick, or in financial trouble, that God may not save every marriage. And if you're one of those people, this book may simply cause more pain, guilt, and doubt.
However. . .with those caveats in mind, I still think this is a useful book. I still would recommend it to others. I even found myself challenged at various points throughout the book. If anything, it caused me to stop and consider what we're doing as a church to help people live faithful, daily lives in God's presence, and how we might better in that area. It was a worthwhile read.
If any of you read it, feel free to let me know and I'd love to discuss this book in greater depth with you.
A special thank you to Zondervan Books, for giving me the opportunity to read and review this book
Coming next: A Faith and Culture Devotional, by Kelly Monroe Kullberg and Lael Arrington
untrimming the trees and undecking the halls.
Christmas-time is fast fading into memory,
we quickly turn our eyes and thoughts to the
coming year. Carols are no longer played,
bell-ringers are silent, the presents all lay
unwrapped, and festivities have come to an end.
And yet – and yet, as the people of God, we do
not forget. We keep our eyes on the Christmas
stable, we scan the skies for signs of another
Christmas star. We still sing in joy and laughter,
for we know that Christmas lives on, because
Christ lives on. What began in
has exploded across the universe, breaking the
bondage of sin and mending the brokenness
of our lives. We continue on in Christmas,
for the Lord Jesus continues to come
into our lives, every single day of the year.
We remain a people who rejoice at his coming;
we remain a people who await his return.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
So, what is then the proper response when the entire church throws a surprise party during and after worship on Sunday, complete with lots of 'Over-the-hill' paraphernalia? When people go to the time and trouble to write (and perform) skits with 'Over-the-hill' themes? When you walk into the fellowship hall and see "Over-the-hill' banners and posters, and most of the gifts are gag gifts related to getting older, and you realize that everyone is wearing black? When the worship service itself is interrupted (twice) to push this thing forward?
And what do you do when it's the people you love and respect who are making all this happen?
You enjoy it, that's what you do. You enjoy the love and appreciation from people who, well, love and appreciate you. You enjoy the cake and the potluck and the folk musicians in the corner - you even grab your mandolin and sit in for a few.
And you consider yourself fortunate to be in such a good place, surrounded by some amazing people.
And in your heart you resolve to prove just how wrong they all are with that "over-the-hill" bit.
Friday, December 26, 2008
In an artistic flourish, I used some really cool fonts that, I thought, helped bring out the richness and power of the texts. And so I copied the powerpoint onto a thumb drive, ran it upstairs to our video tech, explained how it worked, and ran back down.
It didn't occur to me that none of those fancy fonts were supported by the computer upstairs.
And so, instead of the Word of God slowly appearing and dissolving on the screen, instead there appeared a series of boxes. And weird symbols. And hieroglyphics. Which really ruined the mood.
(You might remember this incident - it was at this moment that I calmly went to the microphone and began reading Isaiah 9, to try to bring some order back to the assembly. Only, as I read, my contact lens popped out into the darkened sanctuary, and I spent the rest of the night blind in one eye. Which, coincidentally, is how I spent this service, since my eye is still healing from surgery.)
This year I decided to try the same multi-media experience - after all, it never got its fair play last year - but I made sure it worked. Everything was in Times New Roman font. And the video tech and I ran through it together a couple times prior to the show, just to make sure it was working. And it was. Yeah.
And so we reached the spot in the program where the multi-media experience was to take place. The music began. The fist slide went up, the words scrolled beautifully across the screen. "Behold, those living in the shadow of darkness have seen a great light. . ." And then the screen went dark. Which it was supposed to, as a dramatic pause.
But it stayed dark, longer than I thought it was supposed to.
I glanced up into the balcony. . .to see our video tech and her husband frantically pressing buttons on the projector, pulling on cords, and generally fiddling with things.
And the music played beautifully on, the people sat in darkness, and the screen stayed blank. Until the VERY end, when suddenly "The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this" appeared.
Turns out that our projector had chosen that very moment in the service to overheat and turn off, and it took the upstairs people the length of the song to get it back on again.
Now. . .what are the odds of that? The projector NEVER overheats and turns off. I hardly EVER use powerpoint as part of our services. And yet 2 years in a row, on Christmas Eve, things have gone disastrously wrong right in the middle of the same portion of the service. Right when things are supposed to be contemplative and meditative and richly textured, when people are supposed to be drawn into the messianic prophecy from Isaiah - right at that point they are left confused, instead.
It is technology that hates me? Or is God trying to say something?
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
"They also found that students whose schools were located near-fast food restaurants eat fewer servings of vegetables and fruits, and drink far more soda than students at schools not located near fast-food restaurants."
One more thing to consider if you have a choice between schools.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
In addition, he removed a couple of the stitches today. That was an experience. First, he applied the local anesthetic to the eyeball. Then he poked around with a tiny slicer thing. Then he went in with some little tweezers and began yanking. At least once I actually felt the little string pulling through the cornea. It only stung a bit, but the concept itself was sickening enough.
Ah, well. All is well and good on the road to recovery. Praise the Lord and thanks to good doctors.
Monday, December 22, 2008
What just happened? How do I fix it? Somebody Help Me!!!!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Plus we drank a lot of hot coffee.
In the spirit of neighborly cheer we had the James' and the Robert's over for soup and bread and fellowship for the afternoon; while we enjoyed the good company inside, snow poured down outside, continuing to leave everything in a state of breathless wonder. The view outside our living room window would make everyone jealous.
It's been snowing all afternoon; another 6 inches is expected by the morning. A snow princess now stands to welcome all in front of our church.
All in all, a very good day.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
I have given my official pastoral permission for anybody else to stay home, safe and warm. I don't want to encourage anybody to head out early in the morning, putting themselves in danger just to come keep me company. I have no doubt 5 or so others will come, and that we'll sing some carols and read some scriptures and worship God and drink a lot of coffee. But for those who have to drive far, or down (or up) steep hills - STAY HOME! Unless you have a Jeep. Then, as I can personally attest, it's actually kinda fun out there.
For those staying home, I encourage you to spend some personal or family time with the Lord - what a wonderful opportunity to 'cozy up with God,' having some truly quiet time in prayer and scripture.
If you need a suggestion, these are the lectionary texts for tomorrow:
2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26
Luke 1:26-38Stay tuned for further word on our Christmas Eve Service. . .
Thursday, December 18, 2008
"Ha!" say those who live elsewhere. "A bunch of ninnies who can't handle a little snow!"
If you find yourself in that crowd, let me explain a couple things.
1. Hills. Steep hills. Seattle has a lot of them. And a lot of roads that go up and down them. Chicago, Denver, Calgary. . .all those snowy cities are flat. But Seattle has virtually no flat ground. If you're not going up, then you're going down. Flat snow compacts under your tires while you go merrily on your way. But on hills, it becomes like little ball bearings under your tires, causing you to lose control and slam into things. That's not bad driving, that's gravity.
2. Temperature. It never really gets that cold in Seattle. It always hovers around the freezing point. Which means things begin to melt, then freeze again. During the day all that snow warms up and turns to slush, and then at night it freezes as a solid sheen of ice. It's not the snow that's a problem, it's the ice underneath. And if you take all this ice and put it on the hills mentioned in #1, it creates real problems. You hit ice, you lose all hope of control. Again, that's not bad driving, that's gravity.
3. It's not a big enough problem to make it an issue. If you live in a place where it snows 6 months out of the year, you have chains or snow tires or studs. If you live in Seattle, where it snows one or two days a year (if you're lucky) you're just not going to put that much time and money into buying chains and snow tires and studs.
4. Californians. They're the ones who move up here and then have no clue how to drive in the snow. Seriously. Or the midwesterners who assume that they can handle snow because they used to drive in Nebraska in the snow, but who don't take into consideration #1 and 2.
So quit your scoffing. It's probably all so much jealousy, anyway, since you all wish you could live here.
That's about 5 inches of snow, and still it falls. A few minutes ago somebody drove by on a snowmobile.
My commute this morning: a 5 minute walk through the silent, snow-shrouded woods, alone with the falling flakes and my thoughts. I love this place.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
In no particular order. . .
1. Andrew Peterson: Behold the Lamb of God - The True Tall Tale of the Coming of Christ
- Especially good are "Matthew's Begats," "It Came to Pass," and "Labor of Love."
2. The Chieftains: The Bells of Dublin
- Jackson Browne's "Rebel Jesus" is one of the highlights here.
3. Vince Guaraldi: A Charlie Brown Christmas
- Do they make Christmas albums better than this?
4. The Carpenters: Christmas Portrait
- Takes me back to gathering with the family at my aunt and uncle's house on Bainbridge Island, back in the day. And, of course, "Merry Christmas Darling" is an all-time favorite.
5. Diana Krall: Christmas Songs
- To add some jazz sophistication into the mix
6. John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together
- 'cause, you know, it's got both John Denver AND the Muppets.
7. George Winston: December
- In my top three, I'm sure. This album got me through some cold, lonely days on the Canadian prairies.
8. Kenny Loggins: December
- This album grows more on me every year.
9. Harry Connick jr.: Harry for the Holidays
10. Michael W. Smith: It's a Wonderful Christmas
- Poke around this blog long enough and you'll notice I've talked about this album plenty of times. Simply put, it's a solid soundtrack to the holidays.
11. John Rutter (with the Cambridge Singers): The John Rutter Christmas Album
- Classical yet modern, simple yet elegent. A few Rutter songs have become some of my favorite carols, including "Candlelight Carol" and "Angel's Carol."
12. Mindy Smith: My Holiday
- To add a slightly country flavor into the mix
13. David Willcocks and the Kings College Choir: Noel: Christmas at King's College
- A Christmas Eve Necessity
14. Sufjan Stevens: Songs for Christmas (vol. 1-5)
- I did a review on this last month. Go read that.
15. Thomas Moore: The Soul of Christmas - A Celtic Music Celebration
- I picked this up for a buck out of the used CD bin at Rhino Records. One of the best bucks I've ever spent. Ever. Highlights include "Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree," "In the Blead Midwinter," and "Christ Child's Lullaby."
16. St. Olaf Choir: A St. Olaf Christmas in Norway
- This one is slowly making it's way upward on my favorites list.
17. Steve Tyrell: This Time of the Year
- For the Christmas Party Soundtrack
18. Sara McLachlan: Wintersong
- I think I would describe this album as "Delicious" - like hot chocolate on a snowy day.
19. John Doan: Wrapped in White - Visions of Christmas Past
- In my top 2 Christmas albums all-time. Seeing him live last year only makes it more enjoyable. His take on "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" is beyond exquisite.
20. Brass Mosaic: A Brass Christmas
- What could sound more like Christmas than brass instruments playing ancient and favorite carols?
So how many of those do you own? What albums would you add?
Monday, December 15, 2008
First comes the 4+ weeks of Advent, a time of slowing, of cleansing, of deep-thinking, a time to be still and quiet, a time to contemplate the deep mysteries of the Incarnation and the hope of the 2nd Coming. A time to cease and desist from extravagant activities, a time to look silently inward, seeking holiness in the midst of a darkening winter.
Then, beginning December 25, 12 solid days of Christmas. Almost two weeks of celebrating Christ's birth, of excitement and joy and raucous wonder that the Lord has come to us.
Get it? Advent - the time of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," then Christmas - the time of "Joy to the World."
But our culture does it backward. 4+ months of garish Christmas displays in the stores and Marts of the land, many weeks of garlands and trees and Bing Crosby and Liquor and laughter, an extended time of frivolity leading up to December 25, and then. . .
It's over in an instant. All except the "returning merchandise to the mall-a-thon." We wake up on December 26, look around at the decorations and say "Is that still up?" All the Christmas music disappears from the airwaves, the Christmas specials gone from the television. And should you appear to still be in a Christmas mood on, say, January 3, people will look at you funny. "Dude - it's already New Years!"
Which means those of us who choose to do it the right way tend to get ripped off. We come through Advent and wake up on Christmas, ready to begin the celebration, just when the world is saying "nope - had enough of that."
See, I'm trying hard this year to stay in Advent and not get to Christmas too soon. I'd prefer to not be mugged by all the mall displays, I'm seeking music that is reflective, I'm reading books and articles that make me think slowly and deeply. Yes, we're probably going to watch Elf tomorrow night, and I've got the Harry Connick jr. Christmas CD on, so it's not like a total fast. But, overall, I'm not allowing myself to jump into Christmas hyperdrive yet.
And yet, I know how it's going to be. I'm going to be all ready to jump into the Christmas season just when the rest of you will be taking down your trees and removing the boughs of holly from the halls. Those of us who follow Advent. . .well, we may just feel a little cheated that everybody else peeked into the present box before it was time.
So, just so you know, I'm still going to be celebrating Christmas for a couple weeks yet, right up to Epiphany, with perhaps a short break for my birthday in there. I may just wish you a Merry Christmas well into 2009. Because once Advent is over, I plan on being plumb full of Christmas cheer. I can feel it building up already, and it's going to take some time to work it all out.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Then we left California, and I never really found another group in which to play. Aside from the occasional wedding, my musical talents were given to leading the church in worship. Whenever I found myself at a concert, I was on the other side of the fence, sitting in the audience.
Then we had a kid and moved to California. Still no groups in which to play, plus hardly any time to practice. You can't practice the trumpet when the baby is awake - they need your attention. But you can't practice when the baby is asleep, or they won't be asleep very long.
All these years later, and all these concerts, and always on the outside of the fence. Always in the audience. Always enjoying somebody else's talent. I'd almost forgotten what "that side" felt like.
Until last night. When, about 3 minutes before 7:00, I had the sudden rush of realization that I was back in the orchestra pit. That I wasn't sitting out front, looking into the orchestra - I was on the inside, looking out. When the string section took off I wasn't merely an on-looker, I was a participant. And it was. . .amazing. It felt like coming home again. I had forgotten the rush of being on task, of knowing there's an audience and if you screw up. . .but knowing you won't screw up, and they'll love it, and as the Haydn 101 rolls along you're part of the group making it happen. I felt alive in ways I hadn't for a long, long time. Mostly, it felt right. And I can't wait for the next time around.
And, please don't take this the wrong way, because it's not meant to be boastful, but I'd forgotten how good I actually was at this. That this is what I studied in college, that this was what I'd spent countless hours practicing for - to nail that high G-sharp in the third movement of the 101. To sit snugly below the lead, pulling that harmony in just right. That this isn't just something I kinda sorta know how to do, but it's maybe one of the things I do best. And that's a pretty breathless thought, to rediscover something so powerful and excellent within you.
But don't worry - I'm not quitting my day job to tour with Tower of Power. If I had to guess, all this is only going to strengthen the ministry to which I'm called. For whatever reason, God has seen fit to reopen this door, and I'll gladly walk through to see what he's got in mind.
Friday, December 12, 2008
And this nugget, regarding the Christian Scriptures: "but I do think that the New Testament for example is … has got … You know, the important lesson is ‘God sent a son.'"
Seriously. . .one of the most powerful men in the world, the leader of the Free world, the man with his fingers on the nuke buttons, the man making policy decisions that literally affect millions of people. . .and this is the depth of his thinking? He doesn't even have the capacity to sort through the various theories regarding the origins of life?
"I think evolution can — you’re getting me way out of my lane here. I’m just a simple president. But it’s, I think that God created the earth, created the world; I think the creation of the world is so mysterious it requires something as large as an almighty and I don’t think it’s incompatible with the scientific proof that there is evolution."
I honestly believe most of the students who graduated last year's confirmation class could come up with something better than that. I don't mean to be offensive here, but is this the best he can do? The Pope can publish encyclicals regarding faith and science, and our president says "I'm way out of my lane here. I'm just a simple president."
So the question - is he really this slow? Or is he still trying to play the politician, pandering to Christians and non-Christians alike? Is he really a simple president? Or does he just play one on television?
Granted, we don't expect our presidents to be theologians. But we do expect them to be (and sound) intelligent - right? But look at it this way: one of the largest bases of support for the Republican Party has been the Christians in America, and, more specifically, Evangelical Christians. And yet when asked about one of the most basic, fundamental doctrines in Christianity, the President replied with "the New Testament for example is … has got … You know, the important lesson is ‘God sent a son.'" Hooray. At least he paid attention to all those Christmas cards we sent him.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
You can listen to it online here.
On the left column, scroll over "music" and then click on "listen." You'll see the link to the holiday stream pop up over there in the middle.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
First, let me get this out of the way. This is a heavy book. It is a deep book. It's a book that makes you think. It's not easy Saturday afternoon reading. It's the kind of book that makes your head hurt. It begins like a freight train exploding out of a tunnel, and never lets up. So reader, beware. This one takes time.
On the other hand, it's a very important and necessary book, adding a much-needed voice into the 21st Century atonement discussion. It stands up there with Scot McKnight's A Community Called Atonement and Joel Green and Mark Baker's Recovering the Scandal of the Cross in calling the church to rethink the message of the cross of Christ in a multicultural, multilingual, postmodern, postChristian society.
Mann begins by making this somewhat startling claim: sin is dead. Or, to put it another way, we live in a 'sinless' society. But before you instantly write him off as a heretic, understand his reasoning.
"Sin has been caricatured, a tool for advertisers to suggest that a product is good and pleasurable. Far from being something to be avoided, sin is now part and parcel of the human desire that drives consumerist mentalities."
There is something deeper here, however, than simply a consumer-driven mindset. In actuality, sin is first and foremost a relational concept; sin is something we do against another, be it another person, or God. And both of those categories - the other, God - have all but disappeared from our thinking. Whether or not there is a God, belief in God has been waning for some time now; in addition, even many who would claim belief in God certainly live their lives as if God didn't exist. But even more, the postmodern self is an isolated self. In a world of I-pods and My-space, in a world lacking in deep relationship and community and familial relationships, in a world in which human beings have been reduced to consumers of products, people have lost any sense of "others." And, thus, "We live in a 'sinless' society because without the 'Other' there are no subjects to have wronged."
Even worse, where any concept of 'sin' exists it does so within the context of being 'sinned against,' rather than being a sinner. In other words, the 20th Century Therapeutic culture has successfully convinced people that "it's not your fault." We're all victims, be it of our parents, the institutions around us, or strangers in our world. ". . .the only obligation the client has is to his or her own self-realization, something deemed achievable without the 'Other', who is more likely to be perceived as the cause of traumas rather than the answer to them."
Now, astute readers may argue that Mann is discussing perception here more than reality, but that's exactly the point. Mann is not so concerned with the ontological nature of sin as he is the missional question of how we share the gospel of Christ. And for hundreds of years, that message has gone something like this:
1. You're sinner
2. You're guilty before God
3. The penalty of that guilt is death
4. Christ died in your place
However. . .when we attempt to tell this story today, people stop tracking right there at point 1. Since the people of this culture live in a 'sinless' society, any message beginning with concepts of sin and guilt will fall on deaf ears. Back in the day of big revivals and Four Spiritual Laws, people got this - they understood it. I've sinned. I've hurt others. I've hurt God and broken his laws. But today, people are more apt to protest "Wait! I'm the victim here!" And thus they never will stick around long enough to hear the message of the Gospel.
At the heart of Mann's work, though, is the understanding that, even as concepts of "sin" and "guilt" have passed away from our consciousness, people are no happier, nor fulfilled, than before. In fact, the utter isolation and separation that marks the lives of many people is just as miserable and painful as were earlier feelings of guilt and sin.
The new story goes something like this:
"While the post-industrialized self is able to push away the sins of moral misdemeanor. . .the intensity of emphasis placed upon the self has generated a chronic, internalized dis-ease, typically labeled 'shame'. . .shame has so consumed some, however, that they have taken on the identity of a shamed person and can only relate to themselves and to others as such."
In this new world, individuals still seek intimacy with other humans, but no longer out of a desire to know another; instead, "the self is primarily looking to satisfy its own need." There is a deep hunger for self-realization, and a latent understanding that relating to others is a necessary step to that self-realization. However, in the end, it's always about project "I." And, "once the 'Other' discovers that the agenda in relating is always 'I,' the person becomes disillusioned, cynical about relationships and the real reasons for social interaction."
And where this all leads:
"Thus a vicious cycle ensues: we long for intimacy, to have a deep sense of connectedness with ourselves and with 'Others.' However, the project of self-realization ultimately pushes the 'Other' away. Alone, the project of self-realization collapses in on itself, laying the seedbed for chronic shame to grow. . .With such fears the chronically shamed person hides behind masks, never truly connecting with others, never satisfying his or her need for intimate, mutual, undistorted relating - and so always falling short of what it means to be a human being, created in the image of the relational, Trinitarian God revealed in the Bible."
In other words: our society is awash in deep-seated feelings of shame, desiring above all else to share in mutual relationships, and yet knowing that, should they open up to the 'Other,' they will be rejected for being less-than perfect, less-than acceptable. For being a Loser, for being Lame, for being Stupid. Think of it this way: the images young people portray are all the images of who they want to be - cool, hip, sophisticated, partiers, fun, sexy - and so they present themselves on their facebook pages, their myspace profiles. Yet behind those stories lie their real selves, desperately seeking affection and unconditional love and acceptance; in fact, they desire Eden, where Adam and Eve were "naked yet had no shame." But there is no getting there, because of this reality: to be exposed is to be shamed, for none will truly love them and accept them as they need.
Shame, then, becomes the over-arching story for all postmoderns. "What becomes obvious is that she fears being exposed. . .for who she really is - a chronically shamed person, a self trying to live an unexposed life, fearful that others will 'notice' her and see the true self rather than the ideal. The self has a sense that it is defective and has a basic flaw that ensures its unacceptability and rejection by those whom it loves."
The ultimate result of all of this is a serious distortion in any and every relationship - their relationships with others, their relationship with God, and even their relationship with themselves.
It is at this very point that we can begin to discuss atonement. What people seek most of all is mutual, accepting relationship - someone who will love and accept them as they really are. And, at its most basic level, this is the story of Jesus and the cross.
Mann spends significant time expounding on the narrative surrounding the cross, bringing it to bear on our own narrative. Our experience is this: often, people will say they are "for" us; and yet, just when we need them most, they turn from us. This rejection feeds right into our psyche of shame. Jesus, on the other hand, said he was "for" us and then proved it. His "real" self lived out the "ideal" self which he presented to the world. In more common parlance, his "talk" was proven by his "walk." Not only did he say "greater love has no man than this, than to lay down his life for his friends"; he went out and actually did it - he gave up his life for his friends, rather than run away in self-protection.
Mann makes much of this issue of "ontological coherence" - the idea of being complete and true and coherent, even at our deepest levels. As humans, we lack this kind of coherence. Our "ideal" self is never matched by our "real" self. And this is the heart of our shame, why we never reveal our "real" self." Jesus, on the other hand, was completely true to himself. And the cross was the proof of that. He certainly made a lot of promises; had he turned and walked away from the cross, he would have proven that his "true" self was just like ours - a sad shadow of the "ideal." Instead, when faced with the option of allowing himself to be killed, or running away and saving himself, Jesus chose the former, and thus proved that his word can be trusted. His love and acceptance can be trusted. And here we begin to overcome the power of shame.
In fact, it is on the other side of that cross, at the resurrection, that the possibility of new, undistorted life begins. Having proved that his love conquered even death itself, Jesus invited all to enter into this new life he had begun.
"Rather paradoxically, Jesus' pursuit of death in actuality becomes the pursuit of life. The postmodern fears that, in living for the 'Other,' we die to ourselves. At the cross, Jesus subverts this rationale. Living for the 'Other' (even unto death) leads us from a place of isolation, alienation and meaningless insufficiency as a human being to a coherent ontology and to a place of mutual, undistorted, unpolluted relating - to a life that conquers emotional, spiritual and (almost inexplicably) physical death."
Now, I've almost completely ignored one of the major tenets of Mann's work, which is that, to the postmodern, fact is nothing and narrative is everything. One can confront postmoderns with the Fact of sin and guilt, or with the Fact of shame and fear, but it will continue to slide off. Postmodern people define their reality (much as premoderns did) via story and narrative. Thus, the counter to the narrative of shame is not the Fact of the cross, but the Story of Christ, living a life of love and truth, sharing meals with the outcast and the shamed, dying himself as the most shamed and yet returning with continued love and acceptance.
As an example of this at work, Mann counterposes the stories of Jesus and Judas at the last supper, and in so doing presents Judas in a new and, I believe, refreshing light.
For too long, Judas has been caricaturized as the conniving, greedy, satan-filled villain of the story. The truth is, the scriptures leave plenty of room to discuss the final motives for his actions. Perhaps he was simply greedy, or making a play for power. On the other hand, does he not fit this description, penned by Stephen Pattison and quoted by Mann?
Some shamed people lack a sense of personal worth and value. This means that they may act compliantly and in such a way as to attract approval from outside themselves rather than being concerned to do the right thing or what is best for others. The need to be acceptable may also cause shamed people to lie or be dishonest.
Mann recognizes that we may never fully know what Judas was up to. But that's not the issue. The fact is, Judas easily becomes the recognizable figure to the post-modern self, seeking value and worth in the absence of true relationship. "The post-industrialized self reads the story of Judas and recognizes someone traumatized by the dis-ease of chronic shame."
Point of fact: while the reader often focuses solely on Judas the betrayer, it is usually missed that the other disciples are all betraying Jesus, and each other, at the same time. Each is left to ask "Is it I who will betray you?" To add to the pain, note that nobody followed Judas out of the room as he left to make his final bargain. "Surely the disciples could feel the distress that must have come over Jesus as he watched one of his closest friends depart. Still, for whatever reason, there was no attempt to stop him, no one willing to inquire after his welfare. He was left to his own devices, to disappear from their lives into the darkness." To top it all off, in Luke's telling of the story, "even as the door closes behind Judas, an argument breaks out as to who is the closest to Jesus, the most loyal friend, the truest companion and therefore the most important in the kingdom." All are self-serving, all seeking after their own gain.
When told this way, the postmodern reader will quickly identify. This hodgepodge group, all self-serving and self-seeking, all presenting their ideal self - "I will never betray you, Jesus" - while at the same time living the reality of their true self - focused only on their own gain.
And Judas plays one final role - he displays for us the ultimate response to complete personal breakdown. The pain of the fracture between ideal and reality becomes too strong, and Judas kills himself. He can no longer endure the isolation, the loneliness, the incoherence, and death - non-identity - becomes preferable to carrying on.
Jesus, however, plays the counter-story, the story that gives us hope.
To frame Jesus once more with the narrative of Judas: both Judas and Jesus die on trees away from human relating. Though both, it may be suggested, are 'offerings', only one is efficacious. Judas does not restore his own relationships, or those of anyone else, through his death because he dies in the absence of mutual, unpolluted relating. His death represents his life, and the life of all who suffer the same absence - and that includes the postmodern self. . .Jesus' death, however, takes on this non-relatedness, this non-being, by making way for the possibility of a restoration of relationship - resurrection, even. . .
The cross. . .is not a place of judgment for the inadequacies and insufficiencies of human relating. Indeed, it is a place of acceptance, of embracing the human condition. Atonement is the presence of the 'Other' without condemnation.
So, then, what do we do? As the postmodern self is define by narrative, and that a painful, broken narrative, the answer is to tell a new (old) narrative - the narrative of Jesus, who died as he lived - seeking open, honest, mutual intimacy with those around him, and who destroyed even the final barrier, death itself, thus opening up the door for the rest of us to live lives of mutual, undistorted relationships.
Mann sketches out one primary method of telling that story - the Lord's Supper, or the Eucharist. Mann suggests we recast the liturgy of the Lord's Supper, so often told as a story of guilt, wrath, and forgiveness. Instead, the same story can be told as a story of broken lives posturing for self-gratitude while at the same time full of shame and loathing, and the one at the center who sees beyond all that and loves and accepts anyway. This story, re-enacted and lived whenever the church gathers around the table, tells the atoning work of Christ in ways that will sink in and reach a culture that knows its shame but knows nothing of guilt.
There is so much more here, so many other directions this book moves, so many powerful nuggets, but this review is too long already. Congratulations if you're still here. Obviously, I was impressed with the book, and am still wrestling with many of its questions and implications. I need to set it down for a bit and let my brain stew on it, before cracking it once again and seeking how to apply it in my life. As I said earlier, it's a heavy book, but a book for which I am very grateful. It's truly one of the most important books on the atonement that I've read in a couple years. I only hope this review has done it justice.
Next Up: Soul Revolution, by John Burke
Monday, December 08, 2008
Friday, December 05, 2008
Last night, somebody stole the sign erected by the Freedom from Religion folks, a sign which declared that all religion is "myth and superstition." This morning, that sign showed up at a local country-music radio station. Whether this was simply a prank or a political statement remains to be seen.
In the meantime, a number of different Christians have chosen to go public with their sense of being offended about the atheist sign. On Sunday a group is holding a "pro-faith" rally at the capitol, and Ken Hutcherson is trying to put up a new sign, declaring that "atheism is a myth and superstition. . ."
Somehow, the whole thing feels to me like two rival high schools in the days leading up to their football game. Whoever stole the sign is an idiot, for sure, but all the posturing and taking offense and everything else (you knew Bill O'Reilly and Fox news got into the act, too, right?) is just so much wasted noise.
After all, proof that Messiah had come (which is what Christmas is all about, anyway) is not in signs and sound bites. Proof of Messiah is when Christians love their enemies and work for peace, when the poor are fed and the lonely are loved and the sick are cared for and the lame are walking and the blind seeing and God's people are worshiping together. Perhaps if we spent less time being offended and more time doing the work of Messiah, we wouldn't need signs and rallies.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
I never got to meet Walt. He moved into an Alzheimer's unit 5 years ago or so, and many assumed he had passed away shortly after that. In actuality, Walt was drifting slowly from this life to the next. He died last Wednesday, on the eve of Thanksgiving. I was called on Saturday, asking if I would do the memorial service, as he (and his family) wasn't really associated with any particular church.
So here at the end I get to meet, and say goodbye to, a legend in the community. In one sense, I enjoy these funerals, because I get to meet so many old-timers, who know the hidden stories of the Key Peninsula community, who remember "way back when," and for a moment I get to feel like I'm a part of it. Mostly, I consider it an honor to stand up and speak for one who was so well-known and well-loved out here. Walt was a good man. Would that there were more of him in our world.
The service is Saturday, 12/6, at 2:00 p.m., at Haven of Rest in Gig Harbor, off Highway 16, overlooking the Harbor, the Tacoma Narrows, and, if the weather cooperates, Mt. Rainier.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Somebody broke into my Jeep out in the parking lot and stole the CD player.
Which, if you're keeping count, is the 4th CD player to be stolen out of the Jeep.
If you've been with me long enough, you may remember the trials and travails of Jeep ownership in Turlock, where I had the first three pilfered. In fact, you may remember those 6 months we lived in the apartment, where no less than 14 times I walked out in the morning to discover somebody had been rifling through the Jeep in the middle of the night. Eventually I stopped leaving anything in there of any value, so any would-be thieves simply wasted their time poking around in there. But still I'd come out to find the glove compartment open, the center console askew, the side door open. Then we moved to our house, and nary a trouble until the month before we moved to Washington, when, one last time, they broke in and stole the stereo.
Since moving up here, I had stopped thinking about it. Yes, if I was in downtown Seattle or Tacoma I'd remove the faceplate, but out here where we live? In Gig Harbor? I never even considered it. So last night, when I arrived at rehearsal, it didn't even pop into my mind to remove the faceplate and take it with me.
Now all that's left are the familiar bundle of wires and broken plastic, the calls to make to the police and insurance. . .and some of those old feelings resurfacing.
I'll admit. I prayed that God would break the legs of whoever did this. But only in such a way as to convince them of their wrong and bring them to repentence.
Merry Christmas and Bah Humbug.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Monday, December 01, 2008
The first is the expected: the Nativity Scene. The second is becoming more visible in our culture: a menorah.
The third is the one raising both cheers and consternation from the locals: a sign set up by the Freedom from Religion Foundation.
Now, understand this. The folks at the FFR have as much right to voice their opinion in public as anybody else. The state can't choose favorites, allowing one group to set up shop while leaving the other out in the cold. Personally, while I disagree with the folks at the FFR over foundational worldview issues, and while I won't hesitate to say that I believe their atheism is wrong (since, as you know, I'm pretty certain there is a God), I believe that in America the FFR has the right to publicly declare their belief that they do not, in fact, believe there is a God. So count me among those who don't really care that the FFR set up their sign.
Except for this - This is the content of the sign:
Religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds.
Which is not the same as simply stating "Hey! We don't believe in God!" See, they've gone beyond "I" language and turned instead to judgmental language - the very same thing they claim they're tired of religious people doing to them. The other two displays are artistic symbols and representations of deeply-held religious sentiments. Both are positive: there is Life here! There is Hope here!
Whereas the FFR folks have essentially set up a combative, over-and-against signpost, a denigrating, insulting, "we're better than everybody else," snide, pompous sign. A sign that essentially tells 95% of the world that they are feeble-minded sheep, mindlessly following empty books and boorish leaders.
So, I ask you. In the end, which is actually more offensive? The Christian and Jewish displays, or the "we're offended by you all" display from the FFR people? Which better fits the theme of "human love and goodwill toward all?" Which of these three is not like the others?