This summer, I will be working an internship with Pioneer Bible Translators in Papua New Guinea. I've tried to keep this blog as a place for my own periodic reflections throughout the year, so I've decided to start a temporary blog for the summer. This will allow me to write more detailed descriptions of my day-to-day activity for those who are curious, without interrupting the tone of this blog.
My new blog, "Bilong Yu Oltaim Oltaim," can be found at http://brentbailey2009.blogspot.com/. The title is, appropriately enough, the Melanesian Pidgin translation of "Forever Yours." I will likely do most of my writing this summer over on that site, though I may occasionally write reflections over here.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
My Darling Niece
DISCLAIMER: This is a mushy, gushy, family-related post, so feel free to skip.
I have to be honest: I had never gotten too, too excited about becoming an uncle. Don't get me wrong—I don't mean to say that I felt negatively; I just mean that I hadn't exactly been dreaming all of my life about becoming an uncle. I was so excited for my brother and his wife when I found out they were pregnant, and I was excited about our family growing. But I guess I didn't really know what I was supposed to do as an uncle, how involved I was supposed to be, etc. I think I had been more excited for everyone else involved—the future parents and the future grandparents.
Well, then I held my darling little niece last night, and my feelings totally changed. I mean, babies are cute and all, with their tiny little noses and fingernails and noises. But when I held this little girl, I was suddenly surprised by how much I cared about her and, dare I say it, loved her. There was just something about seeing her and knowing she was my brother's daughter that made me feel so much affection for her; I just took in the moment and stared at her. She really was cuter than all of the other babies, regardless of what she looked like (but even an objective viewer will tell you she's cute).
At the same time, I immediately felt super protective of her. The world suddenly became a big, scary, dangerous place when I was holding this little image of innocence. I remember feeling sorrow over the fallen world in which we live—that because of Satan's work in the world, we have to experience pain and separation and loss. We enter as these helpless, trusting infants, and eventually we have to come to terms with the fact that Satan does have influence in a world that could have been paradise.
It was amazing how, tonight, when I was at a worship service as part of my internship, I couldn't get my mind off of the little baby back in Austin. I became to the other interns an 80-year-old woman with a wallet full of pictures to show off (and, to their credit, they all reacted with appropriate "oohs" and "aahs"). I feel like I finally understand all of the other people my age who get genuinely excited about seeing their nieces and nephews, and I hereby renounce my skepticism towards them. Being an uncle is a sweet deal—all of the cuteness without any of the responsibility.
"For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well."
- Psalm 139:13-4
I have to be honest: I had never gotten too, too excited about becoming an uncle. Don't get me wrong—I don't mean to say that I felt negatively; I just mean that I hadn't exactly been dreaming all of my life about becoming an uncle. I was so excited for my brother and his wife when I found out they were pregnant, and I was excited about our family growing. But I guess I didn't really know what I was supposed to do as an uncle, how involved I was supposed to be, etc. I think I had been more excited for everyone else involved—the future parents and the future grandparents.
Well, then I held my darling little niece last night, and my feelings totally changed. I mean, babies are cute and all, with their tiny little noses and fingernails and noises. But when I held this little girl, I was suddenly surprised by how much I cared about her and, dare I say it, loved her. There was just something about seeing her and knowing she was my brother's daughter that made me feel so much affection for her; I just took in the moment and stared at her. She really was cuter than all of the other babies, regardless of what she looked like (but even an objective viewer will tell you she's cute).
At the same time, I immediately felt super protective of her. The world suddenly became a big, scary, dangerous place when I was holding this little image of innocence. I remember feeling sorrow over the fallen world in which we live—that because of Satan's work in the world, we have to experience pain and separation and loss. We enter as these helpless, trusting infants, and eventually we have to come to terms with the fact that Satan does have influence in a world that could have been paradise.
It was amazing how, tonight, when I was at a worship service as part of my internship, I couldn't get my mind off of the little baby back in Austin. I became to the other interns an 80-year-old woman with a wallet full of pictures to show off (and, to their credit, they all reacted with appropriate "oohs" and "aahs"). I feel like I finally understand all of the other people my age who get genuinely excited about seeing their nieces and nephews, and I hereby renounce my skepticism towards them. Being an uncle is a sweet deal—all of the cuteness without any of the responsibility.
"For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well."
- Psalm 139:13-4
Friday, May 29, 2009
A brief public service announcement...
Occasionally, I will write posts on this blog for which I spend more time than usual preparing (or at least pondering); they tend to be either subjects about which I am particularly passionate or which may be controversial. In those cases, I will often republish those posts on Facebook to receive comments from my peers and hear their opinions on the matter.
Recently, the leadership team at Southern Hills gave funny awards to all of this year's lifegroup leaders at our end-of-the-year celebration. I was honored to receive the award, "Most Likely to Write a Book Every Day as a Blog Post."
I get the hint—I tend to be a little long-winded—but I'm going to keep writing these books as long as people will comment on them :-).
Occasionally, I will write posts on this blog for which I spend more time than usual preparing (or at least pondering); they tend to be either subjects about which I am particularly passionate or which may be controversial. In those cases, I will often republish those posts on Facebook to receive comments from my peers and hear their opinions on the matter.
Recently, the leadership team at Southern Hills gave funny awards to all of this year's lifegroup leaders at our end-of-the-year celebration. I was honored to receive the award, "Most Likely to Write a Book Every Day as a Blog Post."
I get the hint—I tend to be a little long-winded—but I'm going to keep writing these books as long as people will comment on them :-).
Sophomore Year Reflections
After my freshman year ended, I wrote a series of three posts reflecting on the social and spiritual changes I experienced over the year. I fully believe like Socrates that "an unexamined life is not worth living," so I want to continue the trend and spend some time reflecting on my second year at ACU. This post will likely be shorter than what I wrote last year, as I have reflected a lot on my sophomore year in recent posts; forgive me if I echo ideas I've already expressed.
I feel like the theme for this year was understanding that God is faithful even (or especially) when I am not (see post: "God's Faithfulness"). I had predicted that this would be a year to stretch me much farther than my freshman year, and I was right. I have seen relationships strained, felt incredible lows, and had a few difficult conversations, but I have also seen the love of Jesus tangibly expressed in ways that I had never experienced. I am constantly reminded that, despite my best efforts to take matters into my own hands and plot as though I know what's best for myself, God is still in control and has enough mercy to keep me from getting my way too often. Recently, I have found myself disagreeing with God on some of the things I see things happening in my life, but I am constantly humbled to realize that anything I would consider as my wisdom is still foolishness to God and that I had better learn to submit to his will.
One of my biggest dilemmas this year—and, from what I've heard, one of the biggest dilemmas most people face in ministry—was learning how to maintain a delicate tension between truth and grace (I alluded to this in my post "Christian Themes in (Noticably) Non-Christian Media"). I will go ahead and say that I still have no idea how to balance calling Christians to live with a higher standard (truth) and realizing that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness (grace), but I know that I tend to err on the side of Pharisaic legalism. Allow me to speak frankly; I'm not naïve, and I know that there are certain topics people simply will not discuss with me because they are afraid I will unfairly judge them. I cannot say that I blame them, as I suppose I have been guilty of acting as though people had to behave a certain way in order to gain my acceptance. I think this has been an important year for me in learning to receive and extend grace, but I still struggle with understanding our calling as Christians—whether it is more important to try and live holy lives or to foster an attitude of humility that admits we cannot make ourselves holy. While I (and others like me) tend to stray into legalism, I know there are others who make the mistake of forsaking truth for tolerance. Ultimately, I believe the church needs to lean more towards truth in our dealings with fellow Christians, and I believe the church needs to lean more towards grace in our dealings with non-Christians.
I confess that I took certain friendships for granted as I struggled to determine whether I was trying too hard or whether other people weren't trying hard enough, and I regret the mistakes I made in my relationships. Fortunately, I know some fantastic people at ACU who are much better at extending grace than I am.
I feel like my method of reading scripture was completely transformed this year. Three classes particularly shaped my interpretation of the Bible: the first was Exegesis, in which we learned the skill of reading the text as it was originally written without any modern context getting in the way. The second was Philosophy, Religion, and Science, which showed me that the conversation between science and religion is far more complicated than I expected, and both fields have much more to say than I may have expected. Finally, my Christianity in Culture class started me thinking about what it means to develop a relationship with God rather than reading the Bible as a list of rules. All of this to say that I believe I have a greater respect now than I ever have for the authority of scripture; but I also have a different understanding of how we should best honor scripture. I am frustrated with the ways we approach the Bible inconsistently—claiming the first half of a verse as "contextual" with the second half as "eternal truth," ignoring passages that frustrate or confuse us, etc. I want to learn to read the Bible in the most responsible way possible.
This was my first year to vote in a government election, and those who were around me in November know that I was very hesitant to participate in the political process. To be honest, there are two main reasons I still feel hesitant to vote: first, I feel like there is no arena of the public sphere that is more divisive than politics. I have seen friendships and family relationships interrupted by political allegiances, and it saddens me to see the ways that the church has become such a political figure in our nation (with a definite party allegiance that may harm our ability to reach non-Christians with differing political views). Second, I find myself tempted to use political action to excuse myself from individual service. I mean to say that it is much easier for me to vote for anti-abortion laws than it is for me to invest in the life of a girl struggling with an unplanned pregnancy; or, it is much easier for me to vote for national health care than it is for me to cover a poor man's medical bills. When I examine the life of Jesus, I see that he brought radical social change by living out the change himself—in order to improve Jew-Samaritan relations, he just went out and talked to a Samaritan. I fear that I may neglect the hard work of living change in favor of simply voting for it.
Socially, I feel like I am learning to better balance my own ambition with my desire to develop strong, intimate relationships. I have steadily been reducing my involvement at ACU, so much to the point that, next semester, I'll only be taking twelve hours and working two low-hour jobs. I'm realizing that my attempts in the past to fill a resumé often prohibited me from investing fully in any particular area of my life. My hope for the fall is that I will be able to work hard in my classes without having to rush through my homework. I will be able to prepare fully for my duties as the Southern Hills campus ministry intern and the Bible department Greek tutor. I will be able to SLEEP. And, most importantly, I will be able to work "flex time" into my schedule—time to be open to the needs of others, to engage in long conversations and stop checking my watch. Unfortunately, this means that I won't have as much to show for the year as I may have for past years, but I am learning to value the "nonquantifiables."
That being said, I really thought this was going to be my year to get my first "B"—and I would have finally gotten it, had my Exegesis professor not curved our grades at the last moment. The 4.0 stands as a nasty reminder that I had better keep working to prevent my grades from becoming the idol they have been in the past (and may still be).
This was a significant year for me in many ways. I ran a full marathon in December, which was an incredibly fulfilling experience (to be honest, I'm still on the fence as to whether the self-confidence it inspired was good or not). I helped lead a lifegroup of freshmen, which allowed me to come to love a certain group of students as well as learn better how to work in a team. Many of my friends participated in pledging, and other friends began and ended dating relationships—both of which added interesting dynamics my relationships with them (whether major or minor). I was accepted for an internship in Papua New Guinea with Pioneer Bible Translators, and God absolutely came through in the fundraising process ($6300 raised in five weeks). Just two weeks ago, I was in one of my best friends' wedding, which was an extremely fun and beautiful experience. And to top it off, my niece is supposed to be born within the next two weeks!
It's hard to believe that, just 10 months ago, I was driving back to ACU after a summer working with the youth group at Kingwood CoC. It's incredible to think of those people with whom I spent so much time this year that I hardly knew last year—and in the same vein, it's incredible to see the ways that other, older relationships have deepened. It's still fun for me to read old posts to see where my mind was during certain seasons of the year. This year was absolutely not the fun adventure of freshman year; God has been at work in very different ways. But I am grateful for everything that happened since August, and I look forward to getting caught up in God's work in Papua New Guinea this summer.
This has been a big year in some very important ways, and I praise God that he continues to allow me to be Forever His.
I feel like the theme for this year was understanding that God is faithful even (or especially) when I am not (see post: "God's Faithfulness"). I had predicted that this would be a year to stretch me much farther than my freshman year, and I was right. I have seen relationships strained, felt incredible lows, and had a few difficult conversations, but I have also seen the love of Jesus tangibly expressed in ways that I had never experienced. I am constantly reminded that, despite my best efforts to take matters into my own hands and plot as though I know what's best for myself, God is still in control and has enough mercy to keep me from getting my way too often. Recently, I have found myself disagreeing with God on some of the things I see things happening in my life, but I am constantly humbled to realize that anything I would consider as my wisdom is still foolishness to God and that I had better learn to submit to his will.
One of my biggest dilemmas this year—and, from what I've heard, one of the biggest dilemmas most people face in ministry—was learning how to maintain a delicate tension between truth and grace (I alluded to this in my post "Christian Themes in (Noticably) Non-Christian Media"). I will go ahead and say that I still have no idea how to balance calling Christians to live with a higher standard (truth) and realizing that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness (grace), but I know that I tend to err on the side of Pharisaic legalism. Allow me to speak frankly; I'm not naïve, and I know that there are certain topics people simply will not discuss with me because they are afraid I will unfairly judge them. I cannot say that I blame them, as I suppose I have been guilty of acting as though people had to behave a certain way in order to gain my acceptance. I think this has been an important year for me in learning to receive and extend grace, but I still struggle with understanding our calling as Christians—whether it is more important to try and live holy lives or to foster an attitude of humility that admits we cannot make ourselves holy. While I (and others like me) tend to stray into legalism, I know there are others who make the mistake of forsaking truth for tolerance. Ultimately, I believe the church needs to lean more towards truth in our dealings with fellow Christians, and I believe the church needs to lean more towards grace in our dealings with non-Christians.
I confess that I took certain friendships for granted as I struggled to determine whether I was trying too hard or whether other people weren't trying hard enough, and I regret the mistakes I made in my relationships. Fortunately, I know some fantastic people at ACU who are much better at extending grace than I am.
I feel like my method of reading scripture was completely transformed this year. Three classes particularly shaped my interpretation of the Bible: the first was Exegesis, in which we learned the skill of reading the text as it was originally written without any modern context getting in the way. The second was Philosophy, Religion, and Science, which showed me that the conversation between science and religion is far more complicated than I expected, and both fields have much more to say than I may have expected. Finally, my Christianity in Culture class started me thinking about what it means to develop a relationship with God rather than reading the Bible as a list of rules. All of this to say that I believe I have a greater respect now than I ever have for the authority of scripture; but I also have a different understanding of how we should best honor scripture. I am frustrated with the ways we approach the Bible inconsistently—claiming the first half of a verse as "contextual" with the second half as "eternal truth," ignoring passages that frustrate or confuse us, etc. I want to learn to read the Bible in the most responsible way possible.
This was my first year to vote in a government election, and those who were around me in November know that I was very hesitant to participate in the political process. To be honest, there are two main reasons I still feel hesitant to vote: first, I feel like there is no arena of the public sphere that is more divisive than politics. I have seen friendships and family relationships interrupted by political allegiances, and it saddens me to see the ways that the church has become such a political figure in our nation (with a definite party allegiance that may harm our ability to reach non-Christians with differing political views). Second, I find myself tempted to use political action to excuse myself from individual service. I mean to say that it is much easier for me to vote for anti-abortion laws than it is for me to invest in the life of a girl struggling with an unplanned pregnancy; or, it is much easier for me to vote for national health care than it is for me to cover a poor man's medical bills. When I examine the life of Jesus, I see that he brought radical social change by living out the change himself—in order to improve Jew-Samaritan relations, he just went out and talked to a Samaritan. I fear that I may neglect the hard work of living change in favor of simply voting for it.
Socially, I feel like I am learning to better balance my own ambition with my desire to develop strong, intimate relationships. I have steadily been reducing my involvement at ACU, so much to the point that, next semester, I'll only be taking twelve hours and working two low-hour jobs. I'm realizing that my attempts in the past to fill a resumé often prohibited me from investing fully in any particular area of my life. My hope for the fall is that I will be able to work hard in my classes without having to rush through my homework. I will be able to prepare fully for my duties as the Southern Hills campus ministry intern and the Bible department Greek tutor. I will be able to SLEEP. And, most importantly, I will be able to work "flex time" into my schedule—time to be open to the needs of others, to engage in long conversations and stop checking my watch. Unfortunately, this means that I won't have as much to show for the year as I may have for past years, but I am learning to value the "nonquantifiables."
That being said, I really thought this was going to be my year to get my first "B"—and I would have finally gotten it, had my Exegesis professor not curved our grades at the last moment. The 4.0 stands as a nasty reminder that I had better keep working to prevent my grades from becoming the idol they have been in the past (and may still be).
This was a significant year for me in many ways. I ran a full marathon in December, which was an incredibly fulfilling experience (to be honest, I'm still on the fence as to whether the self-confidence it inspired was good or not). I helped lead a lifegroup of freshmen, which allowed me to come to love a certain group of students as well as learn better how to work in a team. Many of my friends participated in pledging, and other friends began and ended dating relationships—both of which added interesting dynamics my relationships with them (whether major or minor). I was accepted for an internship in Papua New Guinea with Pioneer Bible Translators, and God absolutely came through in the fundraising process ($6300 raised in five weeks). Just two weeks ago, I was in one of my best friends' wedding, which was an extremely fun and beautiful experience. And to top it off, my niece is supposed to be born within the next two weeks!
It's hard to believe that, just 10 months ago, I was driving back to ACU after a summer working with the youth group at Kingwood CoC. It's incredible to think of those people with whom I spent so much time this year that I hardly knew last year—and in the same vein, it's incredible to see the ways that other, older relationships have deepened. It's still fun for me to read old posts to see where my mind was during certain seasons of the year. This year was absolutely not the fun adventure of freshman year; God has been at work in very different ways. But I am grateful for everything that happened since August, and I look forward to getting caught up in God's work in Papua New Guinea this summer.
This has been a big year in some very important ways, and I praise God that he continues to allow me to be Forever His.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Back on the Edge
In January of 2008, I wrote a blog post entitled "On the Edge of Something Huge," in which I summarized a growing feeling I had been experiencing as, "I am simultaneously the most excited, the most nervous, the most confident, and the most unconfident I have ever been in my relationship with God. I feel like my faith before now has been shallow and naive at best."
Well, I feel like I have once again found myself on that edge, looking back to recent events and wondering just what God is doing. In that post, I laid out a series of specific events and conversations that had started my mind spinning. I cannot name such specific events this time around, but I feel like a few motifs have been appearing and reappearing this semester that seem to be mixing together into some kind of symphony (pardon the trite metaphor).
In August of this past year, I wrote that I fully expected the year to be difficult: "It seems like God is going to be directly confronting those areas in my life that need to be transformed or removed (even some that I have ignored for years), and it will be painful to be changed and grown." At the risk of being frustratingly ambiguous, let me just say that...I made a pretty good prediction. In many ways, this has been a year that has pushed me and stretched me much more than my freshman year, and I cannot say that I have positively reacted to everything that God has been doing.
But the important thing is that I do believe God has been acting, especially recently. Around February, I read a book by Francis Chan called Crazy Love that clicked with me. To be honest, the book wasn't anything particularly revolutionary, but it made me seriously reconsider whether I was in a relationship with God or whether I only used that phrase to describe my own Pharisaic legalism. I asked questions I never had before—how do you develop a two-way relationship with a silent God? How do other Christians fit into that intimate relationship?
Around March-April, I had a few life changes that I probably took more seriously than I should have (big surprise, knowing me). First, I turned 20, which meant I was no longer a teenager. Second, I finally saw my sister-in-law looking pregnant (she's due June 7th!), which struck me with a realization that my family is getting older and I am about to be an uncle. Honestly, I have started feeling like it is time for me to start being a grown-up; not that I am a particularly lazy or helpless, and not that I want to "outgrow" my peers, but simply that I need to really start considering who I am and who God is calling me to be for the rest of my life.
In the same few months, I had a few experiences that made me realize that I need to be better preparing myself to be a minister in the world; simply doing everything that ACU requires for a degree is not going to make me ready to answer questions and lead effectively and maintain my own spiritual health. First, I petitioned for and then rapidly received my funds for my summer mission work, and suddenly I felt the weight of responsibility towards 68 (!!!) financial contributors and countless more prayer partners. At the same time, I accepted a year-long internship with the Campus Ministry at Southern Hills that starts this fall, which means I will be in a formal ministry position around my peers (and our meetings for the fall have already begun).
Then, on April 21st, during a Bible class in which my peers and I were particularly distracted and uninvolved, our professor stopped class to bluntly tell us that he worried about our futures as ministers because of how we were performing in his class. He insisted that we had a responsibility to take our ACU education seriously, as millions around the world would jump at the chance to study the Bible in a university. He said that ministry was harder than we thought, and that we weren't suddenly going to have answers to everyone's questions if we didn't prepare, and that we needed to shape up. Our class was stunned, but I think it was an appropriate kick in the pants to a group of future ministers who really weren't taking things seriously, myself absolutely included. I felt convicted and, well, crummy.
More and more conversations have opened my eyes to the big things that God is doing right now, things like social justice and missions and personal transformations. I was reminded of how many times God has used people my age or younger to do big things, such as the group of college kids in the early nineteenth century who basically started North American missions, or the 20-somethings who have written powerful and eye-opening books, or even a recent ACU grad who is working to save prostitutes in Bulgaria. And reading books like the recent They Like Jesus But Not The Church has shown me how our culture and ministry are rapidly changing and how we have to face that.
All of these things (and other, more personal events) have been feeding into my head/heart/spirit this semester, and I'm feeling more and more ready to start cutting things in my life to focus and really prepare for a specific type of service or ministry. This year, I learned that I don't have to be involved in every single thing on campus to serve God and use my time effectively, and I want to continue shaping my schedule (read: freeing up my schedule) to see how I can be better preparing for my ministry to come. I've been in kind of a funk for a few weeks, and I feel like that is going to fade and hopefully leave me with some clarity.
I feel like the best things I can do right now are (a) pray and (b) spend time in the word. God always seems to do big things in people who have committed to serious prayer (Martin Luther supposedly prayed 3 hours every day), and I regret that I haven't prayed more in my time at ACU. On that note, I would love your prayers as I continue to try and discern my direction.
I'm ready to start taking this seriously. If Freshman year was about shaking up my faith and introducing me to the real Jesus, Sophomore year was about shaking up my identity and introducing me to the real me. Now that I feel like I know better who everyone is (wink), I'm ready to get this show on the road.
Well, I feel like I have once again found myself on that edge, looking back to recent events and wondering just what God is doing. In that post, I laid out a series of specific events and conversations that had started my mind spinning. I cannot name such specific events this time around, but I feel like a few motifs have been appearing and reappearing this semester that seem to be mixing together into some kind of symphony (pardon the trite metaphor).
In August of this past year, I wrote that I fully expected the year to be difficult: "It seems like God is going to be directly confronting those areas in my life that need to be transformed or removed (even some that I have ignored for years), and it will be painful to be changed and grown." At the risk of being frustratingly ambiguous, let me just say that...I made a pretty good prediction. In many ways, this has been a year that has pushed me and stretched me much more than my freshman year, and I cannot say that I have positively reacted to everything that God has been doing.
But the important thing is that I do believe God has been acting, especially recently. Around February, I read a book by Francis Chan called Crazy Love that clicked with me. To be honest, the book wasn't anything particularly revolutionary, but it made me seriously reconsider whether I was in a relationship with God or whether I only used that phrase to describe my own Pharisaic legalism. I asked questions I never had before—how do you develop a two-way relationship with a silent God? How do other Christians fit into that intimate relationship?
Around March-April, I had a few life changes that I probably took more seriously than I should have (big surprise, knowing me). First, I turned 20, which meant I was no longer a teenager. Second, I finally saw my sister-in-law looking pregnant (she's due June 7th!), which struck me with a realization that my family is getting older and I am about to be an uncle. Honestly, I have started feeling like it is time for me to start being a grown-up; not that I am a particularly lazy or helpless, and not that I want to "outgrow" my peers, but simply that I need to really start considering who I am and who God is calling me to be for the rest of my life.
In the same few months, I had a few experiences that made me realize that I need to be better preparing myself to be a minister in the world; simply doing everything that ACU requires for a degree is not going to make me ready to answer questions and lead effectively and maintain my own spiritual health. First, I petitioned for and then rapidly received my funds for my summer mission work, and suddenly I felt the weight of responsibility towards 68 (!!!) financial contributors and countless more prayer partners. At the same time, I accepted a year-long internship with the Campus Ministry at Southern Hills that starts this fall, which means I will be in a formal ministry position around my peers (and our meetings for the fall have already begun).
Then, on April 21st, during a Bible class in which my peers and I were particularly distracted and uninvolved, our professor stopped class to bluntly tell us that he worried about our futures as ministers because of how we were performing in his class. He insisted that we had a responsibility to take our ACU education seriously, as millions around the world would jump at the chance to study the Bible in a university. He said that ministry was harder than we thought, and that we weren't suddenly going to have answers to everyone's questions if we didn't prepare, and that we needed to shape up. Our class was stunned, but I think it was an appropriate kick in the pants to a group of future ministers who really weren't taking things seriously, myself absolutely included. I felt convicted and, well, crummy.
More and more conversations have opened my eyes to the big things that God is doing right now, things like social justice and missions and personal transformations. I was reminded of how many times God has used people my age or younger to do big things, such as the group of college kids in the early nineteenth century who basically started North American missions, or the 20-somethings who have written powerful and eye-opening books, or even a recent ACU grad who is working to save prostitutes in Bulgaria. And reading books like the recent They Like Jesus But Not The Church has shown me how our culture and ministry are rapidly changing and how we have to face that.
All of these things (and other, more personal events) have been feeding into my head/heart/spirit this semester, and I'm feeling more and more ready to start cutting things in my life to focus and really prepare for a specific type of service or ministry. This year, I learned that I don't have to be involved in every single thing on campus to serve God and use my time effectively, and I want to continue shaping my schedule (read: freeing up my schedule) to see how I can be better preparing for my ministry to come. I've been in kind of a funk for a few weeks, and I feel like that is going to fade and hopefully leave me with some clarity.
I feel like the best things I can do right now are (a) pray and (b) spend time in the word. God always seems to do big things in people who have committed to serious prayer (Martin Luther supposedly prayed 3 hours every day), and I regret that I haven't prayed more in my time at ACU. On that note, I would love your prayers as I continue to try and discern my direction.
I'm ready to start taking this seriously. If Freshman year was about shaking up my faith and introducing me to the real Jesus, Sophomore year was about shaking up my identity and introducing me to the real me. Now that I feel like I know better who everyone is (wink), I'm ready to get this show on the road.
BOOK RESPONSE: "They Like Jesus But Not The Church" by Dan Kimball
WHY I READ IT: For my Campus Ministry class
I wasn't originally going to write anything about this book, since it seemed very similar to unChristian (a book I read earlier in the semester and responded to here). Both books take a harsh look at how modern non-Christians around my age perceive the church.
However, whereas unChristian was a research-heavy book based on piles and piles of statistics, They Like Jesus is instead a collection of anecdotes and conversations in which the author participated; though his research is much more limited (one of the book's faults), he adds more personal touches and creates a book that is altogether more readable, in my opinion. Kimball also spends much more time exploring the church's behavior and how much say we have in my generation's perception of the church. Before delving into the common negative perceptions, Kimball spends time discussing the state of the church, and his suggestions are rather challenging.
First, Kimball writes that our society is dramatically changing right now, and many of our churches are completely ignorant to the changes and thus vastly unprepared to evangelize to the culture. I do not believe I have taken a Bible class at ACU that did not devote at least one class period to discussing the "Modernism—Postmodernism" shift facing the world right now, so I tend to forget that many people are simply unaware of this transformation. The concept is complicated (I still don't think I entirely understand it), but basically speaking, the world has been functioning in a "Modern" worldview for the last 400 or 500 years, characterized by reason, progress, science, etc., and a belief that an ultimate truth exists (whether or not we know it). Now, however, our society is becoming increasingly "Postmodern," rejecting the idea that all existence can be summed up in one particular "meta-narrative" or overarching story, and instead believing that all truth is relative; community is everything, and my truth may be different from your truth.
All of this to say that the very way that college students perceive such important words as "truth" and "reality" may be entirely different from how our grandparents understand it; and as a result, the evangelism techniques that may have convinced older generations tend to disappoint or even amuse my peers.* Add to this that most scholars have become convinced that our nation is now (or is at least on the verge of becoming) a post-Christian society; not that Christianity has been rejected by everyone, but that the belief system no longer receives the respect it once did, and Christian thought and morals no longer hold nearly as much clout as they used to. Both of these truths are extremely important for Christians to understand; we are no longer working in a society that admires or even likes us. As Kimball writes:
"Emerging generations don't have a basic understanding of the story of the Bible, and they don't have one God as the predominant God to worship. Rather, they are open to all types of faiths, including new mixtures of religions. No longer are Christian pastors and ministers the 'good guys' in films and in the media. Most church leaders now actually feel embarrassed to tell people they are pastors. Some even choose titles other than pastor so they aren't dismissed by people outside the church. Some people aren't even comfortable saying they are a Christian but come up with new terms such as 'Christ follower' to avoid negative and distorted associations."
Second, Kimball writes that we as Christians are guilty of retreating further and further into the walls of our churches and forming a Christian subculture that completely isolates us from the world. We fellowship with each other, we study with each other, we work with each other, and we develop no serious or meaningful relationships with people outside of the church. For outreach, we try and create events or marketing to make our churches as "seeker-friendly" as possible; as long as the church is doing outreach, we can relieve ourselves of the burden of evangelism. The harsh reality, then, is that people are not attracted to our churches, so we are only growing by having babies and gaining members from other churches. As the book is titled, people like Jesus—even if their views are seriously skewed by Jesus' presentation in pop culture, they can admire his teachings, and they see him as an agent for social justice and change. Unfortunately, they do not like the church—they have become disillusioned with our organized religion, and they are forced to either reject Jesus along with the church or dangerously seek him alone.
This leads to the middle portion of the book, in which Kimball explores each of the negative perceptions people hold against Christianity. Some echo themes of unChristian (the church is an organized religion with a political agenda, the church is judgmental and negative, the church is homophobic), while other themes are unique to his research (the church is dominated by males and oppresses females, the church arrogantly claims all other religions are wrong, the church is full of fundamentalists who take the whole Bible literally). Obviously, these statements hurt, but we cannot honestly say they surprise us.
Like unChristian, Kimball's book offers hope that we can change the perceptions regarding Christianity to restore the name of Christianity in our society. The key is relationships—we simply must develop relationships with non-Christians in order to allow them to see that we do not fit their negative stereotypes. Here's a statement from the book that should sting: "I'm always amazed at how many people outside the church say they don't know any Christians personally." When non-Christians don't know any Christians, their only exposure to us comes in those extreme cases they see in the media, such as the sign-toting Westboro Baptist Church** or extremists bombing abortion clinics. Only we—and by we, I mean me and you, whoever might read this—can change those perceptions by our example.
As a result of reading this book, I feel extremely convicted in how I spend my time. I feel completely enveloped in Christian subculture, and I cannot name one specific relationship I have with a non-Christian person. That is ridiculous, and it has to change. I love the idea that we are supposed to be missionaries to the United States—and as Kimball writes, it wouldn't make any sense for missionaries in China to spend all of their time hanging out in a little Christian house. Missionaries spend time with their target group to learn the culture and work in it.
When I read unChristian, I suggested that people working in youth or college ministries should read it; however, I'm going to go ahead and say this is a pretty important book for any Christian to read right now. We simply must be aware of what our society thinks of us, and we must reconsider how we are reaching them (if we are reaching them at all).
NEXT BOOK: For various reasons, I've had to read literally 900 pages of text in the last week-and-a-half, and I still have approximately 500 pages to read in the next week (no exaggeration). I won't likely respond to any more of the books I'll be reading for awhile.
* I really can't express how significant this shift is, and I highly recommend you look it up if you don't know anything about it. It sheds all kinds of light on many of the conflicts that exist between the generations in our churches.
** www.godhatesfags.com Obviously, this site is probably PG-13 but is, unbelievably, entirely serious.
I wasn't originally going to write anything about this book, since it seemed very similar to unChristian (a book I read earlier in the semester and responded to here). Both books take a harsh look at how modern non-Christians around my age perceive the church.
However, whereas unChristian was a research-heavy book based on piles and piles of statistics, They Like Jesus is instead a collection of anecdotes and conversations in which the author participated; though his research is much more limited (one of the book's faults), he adds more personal touches and creates a book that is altogether more readable, in my opinion. Kimball also spends much more time exploring the church's behavior and how much say we have in my generation's perception of the church. Before delving into the common negative perceptions, Kimball spends time discussing the state of the church, and his suggestions are rather challenging.
First, Kimball writes that our society is dramatically changing right now, and many of our churches are completely ignorant to the changes and thus vastly unprepared to evangelize to the culture. I do not believe I have taken a Bible class at ACU that did not devote at least one class period to discussing the "Modernism—Postmodernism" shift facing the world right now, so I tend to forget that many people are simply unaware of this transformation. The concept is complicated (I still don't think I entirely understand it), but basically speaking, the world has been functioning in a "Modern" worldview for the last 400 or 500 years, characterized by reason, progress, science, etc., and a belief that an ultimate truth exists (whether or not we know it). Now, however, our society is becoming increasingly "Postmodern," rejecting the idea that all existence can be summed up in one particular "meta-narrative" or overarching story, and instead believing that all truth is relative; community is everything, and my truth may be different from your truth.
All of this to say that the very way that college students perceive such important words as "truth" and "reality" may be entirely different from how our grandparents understand it; and as a result, the evangelism techniques that may have convinced older generations tend to disappoint or even amuse my peers.* Add to this that most scholars have become convinced that our nation is now (or is at least on the verge of becoming) a post-Christian society; not that Christianity has been rejected by everyone, but that the belief system no longer receives the respect it once did, and Christian thought and morals no longer hold nearly as much clout as they used to. Both of these truths are extremely important for Christians to understand; we are no longer working in a society that admires or even likes us. As Kimball writes:
"Emerging generations don't have a basic understanding of the story of the Bible, and they don't have one God as the predominant God to worship. Rather, they are open to all types of faiths, including new mixtures of religions. No longer are Christian pastors and ministers the 'good guys' in films and in the media. Most church leaders now actually feel embarrassed to tell people they are pastors. Some even choose titles other than pastor so they aren't dismissed by people outside the church. Some people aren't even comfortable saying they are a Christian but come up with new terms such as 'Christ follower' to avoid negative and distorted associations."
Second, Kimball writes that we as Christians are guilty of retreating further and further into the walls of our churches and forming a Christian subculture that completely isolates us from the world. We fellowship with each other, we study with each other, we work with each other, and we develop no serious or meaningful relationships with people outside of the church. For outreach, we try and create events or marketing to make our churches as "seeker-friendly" as possible; as long as the church is doing outreach, we can relieve ourselves of the burden of evangelism. The harsh reality, then, is that people are not attracted to our churches, so we are only growing by having babies and gaining members from other churches. As the book is titled, people like Jesus—even if their views are seriously skewed by Jesus' presentation in pop culture, they can admire his teachings, and they see him as an agent for social justice and change. Unfortunately, they do not like the church—they have become disillusioned with our organized religion, and they are forced to either reject Jesus along with the church or dangerously seek him alone.
This leads to the middle portion of the book, in which Kimball explores each of the negative perceptions people hold against Christianity. Some echo themes of unChristian (the church is an organized religion with a political agenda, the church is judgmental and negative, the church is homophobic), while other themes are unique to his research (the church is dominated by males and oppresses females, the church arrogantly claims all other religions are wrong, the church is full of fundamentalists who take the whole Bible literally). Obviously, these statements hurt, but we cannot honestly say they surprise us.
Like unChristian, Kimball's book offers hope that we can change the perceptions regarding Christianity to restore the name of Christianity in our society. The key is relationships—we simply must develop relationships with non-Christians in order to allow them to see that we do not fit their negative stereotypes. Here's a statement from the book that should sting: "I'm always amazed at how many people outside the church say they don't know any Christians personally." When non-Christians don't know any Christians, their only exposure to us comes in those extreme cases they see in the media, such as the sign-toting Westboro Baptist Church** or extremists bombing abortion clinics. Only we—and by we, I mean me and you, whoever might read this—can change those perceptions by our example.
As a result of reading this book, I feel extremely convicted in how I spend my time. I feel completely enveloped in Christian subculture, and I cannot name one specific relationship I have with a non-Christian person. That is ridiculous, and it has to change. I love the idea that we are supposed to be missionaries to the United States—and as Kimball writes, it wouldn't make any sense for missionaries in China to spend all of their time hanging out in a little Christian house. Missionaries spend time with their target group to learn the culture and work in it.
When I read unChristian, I suggested that people working in youth or college ministries should read it; however, I'm going to go ahead and say this is a pretty important book for any Christian to read right now. We simply must be aware of what our society thinks of us, and we must reconsider how we are reaching them (if we are reaching them at all).
NEXT BOOK: For various reasons, I've had to read literally 900 pages of text in the last week-and-a-half, and I still have approximately 500 pages to read in the next week (no exaggeration). I won't likely respond to any more of the books I'll be reading for awhile.
* I really can't express how significant this shift is, and I highly recommend you look it up if you don't know anything about it. It sheds all kinds of light on many of the conflicts that exist between the generations in our churches.
** www.godhatesfags.com Obviously, this site is probably PG-13 but is, unbelievably, entirely serious.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Crying
This is one of those times where I'm probably going a little too personal on this blog, but I still want this to be a journal of my faith journey. Without going too deep, let me say that I cried recently for the first time in a long, long time (I know I said I cried in this post a while back, but I think I was exaggerating), and it really changed my perception of trusting God.
I think that I have gone a long time believing that trusting God means following his plans without any disagreement. I've always struggled with Psalms of lament, like Psalm 22—intellectually, I feel like we know that God is in control, and regardless of what happens he is working for the "good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). He is with us through all of the tragedy and the struggle, and we will be better off in the end because he is grooming us to be his children and to love him more fully. So, I think I have always subconsciously believed that it just didn't make sense to disagree with God or argue with him when we know that, ultimately, we will be grateful for what happens in our lives. I've often struggled with empathy because I feel like, if we know that hindsight is 20/20 and that we will be grateful later, we might as well be grateful now.
Well, what can I say—I'm still a student, and so I think I'm still allowed to change my mind. I want to look at the story of Hannah, so I'm copying a large portion of it here from I Samuel:
"There was a certain man....He had two wives; one was called Hannah and the other Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.
I think that I have gone a long time believing that trusting God means following his plans without any disagreement. I've always struggled with Psalms of lament, like Psalm 22—intellectually, I feel like we know that God is in control, and regardless of what happens he is working for the "good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). He is with us through all of the tragedy and the struggle, and we will be better off in the end because he is grooming us to be his children and to love him more fully. So, I think I have always subconsciously believed that it just didn't make sense to disagree with God or argue with him when we know that, ultimately, we will be grateful for what happens in our lives. I've often struggled with empathy because I feel like, if we know that hindsight is 20/20 and that we will be grateful later, we might as well be grateful now.
Well, what can I say—I'm still a student, and so I think I'm still allowed to change my mind. I want to look at the story of Hannah, so I'm copying a large portion of it here from I Samuel:
"There was a certain man....He had two wives; one was called Hannah and the other Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.
"Year after year this man went up from his town to worship and sacrifice to the LORD Almighty at Shiloh, where Hophni and Phinehas, the two sons of Eli, were priests of the LORD. Whenever the day came for Elkanah to sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters. But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, and the LORD had closed her womb. And because the LORD had closed her womb, her rival kept provoking her in order to irritate her. This went on year after year. Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the LORD, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat. Elkanah her husband would say to her, 'Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don't you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don't I mean more to you than ten sons?'
"Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli the priest was sitting on a chair by the doorpost of the LORD's temple. In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the LORD. And she made a vow, saying, 'O LORD Almighty, if you will only look upon your servant's misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the LORD for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.'"
Here's what I think I'm noticing about Hannah for the first time: she knows that God could grant her a son. She knows that, for whatever reason, he isn't, and that fills her with grief. But Hannah still has great faith—incredibly, God grants her request, and she keeps her end of the bargain. Even though Hannah weeps because God is not doing what she wants, she is not doubting God's infinite wisdom or suggesting that her way is better; she is simply mourning the harsh truth that her life is not going the way she wishes and that it is hard. And even when Hannah prays from the bitterness of her heart, she is still praying in faith and absolute trust in God's will. She knows that he's in control, but still she grieves.
I believe that what I have learned through finally being able to release myself in tears—and bear with me, because I'm still not 100% sure about this—is that, while we may intellectually grasp that God is good and wise and wants the best for us, we are still allowed to feel sad when our prayers go unanswered. Doesn't that sound so silly and obvious? But it's hard for me because I have trouble separating my emotions and my intellect. What I see in the story of Hannah, and in the laments of David, and in countless other scriptural examples, is that trusting in God does not mean we are supposed to turn off our emotions. In Hannah's case, she wanted something that was entirely holy and admirable: a child. When God said no, she grieved in the context of her trust and faith in God.
I think what I'm getting at is that it is never sinful to desire something good. Desire becomes sinful when we try and fill it outside of God's will—for example, when we pursue sex (something good) outside of marriage, we sin. The problem is not that we desire sex; we are created to desire sex. The problem is when we stop trusting God's timing and assume that we know better. Hannah desired something good, so when that need was not met, she mourned. She could not deny that she wanted to be a mother, and her mourning did not mean she distrusted God.
I certainly don't want a child right now, but I think I can identify with Hannah.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Psychological Testing
All students majoring in Bible at ACU must, during the spring of their sophomore year, submit to psychological testing. The testing consists of a long written test as well as two meetings with a pair of counselors, graduate students in the Marriage and Family Institute of ACU. The testing is primarily intended to prevent any major problems in ministry, although it also serves to allow students to see their own particular behavioral traits that may not be visible to them.
On Thursday, I got the results of my test. Fortunately, they said there were no major psychological defects. As with all students, they did wish to point out peculiarities in my personality: namely, that I tend to act naïvely in my relationships, I hold high moral standards, and I suppress my own hostility.
I do believe that I tend to be naïve in my relationships, though I haven't decided whether this is something I want to—or even know how to—work on or not. I know that, in many situations, I'm usually the last one to find out about the bad junk that's going on, and that used to really bug me. I grew up pretty sheltered (for which I'm grateful), so I tend to be surprised when I hear about my peers doing drugs or having sex. I know that, in ministry, it is important for me to be perceptive and generally aware of what is happening in people's lives. But I think I tend to expect the best from people and assume they'll do the same for me, and there have been many times when I've said, "I just don't really need to know that about [insert name]." I think the word "naïve" stings a little.
I tend to hold high moral standards, and the problem is when I enforce those on other people. I see a connection between this and the previous paragraph—because I set these standards, I tend to expect the same from other people, so they aren't comfortable letting me in on the junk because they think I will (or, perhaps, know I will—yikes) judge them. Of all people, I have the least right to judge, so this is something I want to improve. I struggle to realize that, for whatever reason, someone who is sincerely seeking Christ ten times harder than me may have entirely different moral standards from me, and that doesn't mean he or she is wrong.
I was really surprised when I was told that I tend to deny or suppress my hostility, as I've always felt like a highly non-confrontational person. I really can't think of many situations in my life where, in retrospect, I had any particularly good reason to be angry, so I tend to just shrug off situations in the present. (Now, I know there's a place for "righteous anger," but I feel like we tend to overuse that term. Anger at the waitress is not righteous. Anger at annoying drivers is not righteous.) I feel like every person has baggage he's lugging around with him, and if we could just empathize better with each other, we wouldn't be nearly as angry. Now, if I am suppressing anger, I want to find out so that I can express it in a healthy way, but right now, I don't really feel angry about too much—and I don't mean that as apathy.
On Thursday, I got the results of my test. Fortunately, they said there were no major psychological defects. As with all students, they did wish to point out peculiarities in my personality: namely, that I tend to act naïvely in my relationships, I hold high moral standards, and I suppress my own hostility.
I do believe that I tend to be naïve in my relationships, though I haven't decided whether this is something I want to—or even know how to—work on or not. I know that, in many situations, I'm usually the last one to find out about the bad junk that's going on, and that used to really bug me. I grew up pretty sheltered (for which I'm grateful), so I tend to be surprised when I hear about my peers doing drugs or having sex. I know that, in ministry, it is important for me to be perceptive and generally aware of what is happening in people's lives. But I think I tend to expect the best from people and assume they'll do the same for me, and there have been many times when I've said, "I just don't really need to know that about [insert name]." I think the word "naïve" stings a little.
I tend to hold high moral standards, and the problem is when I enforce those on other people. I see a connection between this and the previous paragraph—because I set these standards, I tend to expect the same from other people, so they aren't comfortable letting me in on the junk because they think I will (or, perhaps, know I will—yikes) judge them. Of all people, I have the least right to judge, so this is something I want to improve. I struggle to realize that, for whatever reason, someone who is sincerely seeking Christ ten times harder than me may have entirely different moral standards from me, and that doesn't mean he or she is wrong.
I was really surprised when I was told that I tend to deny or suppress my hostility, as I've always felt like a highly non-confrontational person. I really can't think of many situations in my life where, in retrospect, I had any particularly good reason to be angry, so I tend to just shrug off situations in the present. (Now, I know there's a place for "righteous anger," but I feel like we tend to overuse that term. Anger at the waitress is not righteous. Anger at annoying drivers is not righteous.) I feel like every person has baggage he's lugging around with him, and if we could just empathize better with each other, we wouldn't be nearly as angry. Now, if I am suppressing anger, I want to find out so that I can express it in a healthy way, but right now, I don't really feel angry about too much—and I don't mean that as apathy.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Christian Themes in (Noticeably) Non-Christian Media
I want to bring up a question that has plagued me since the eighth grade, which has been debated by people who are a lot smarter than me, and which may not have any end-all solution: the interaction of Christians with popular culture. More specifically, for this post, I want to talk about how I should respond to seeing Christian themes presented in distinctly non-Christian packaging. More and more, I see churches using film clips from nonreligious films to illustrate biblical texts, but I feel like we don't have anything close to a uniform view of how to deal with this.
DISCLAIMER: For this post, I am going to be discussing the book/film Fight Club and the film Little Miss Sunshine, both of which are extremely popular among my generation. I want to note that both of these films are rated "R" for very good reasons, and I'm going to be discussing the plots of each work in detail. Use discretion if you choose to engage these works, and please understand that I'm simply trying to determine whether or how Christians should interact with them—because regardless of what anyone says or thinks, Christians (at least my age) are watching them. If you don't want either to be spoiled, you should avoid reading this. This post is not meant to call anyone out or point any fingers, obviously, as I have myself engaged each work—I only ask that, if you feel it is a mistake to watch such films, you will understand that I am earnestly seeking to find God's will in this. Like I said, Christians my age are watching these films. Finally, I've included censored quotes, but the profanity is going to be very obvious.
I think that the reason films like Fight Club and Little Miss Sunshine are so popular is because they've tapped into real, accurate, biblical truths and presented them in stylish, shocking ways. Not to say that they intended to preach, or that the Bible was even considered in their creation—but, even if by accident, they have spoken a message that we know, somehow we know is true, whether we believe the Bible or not. I want to look at each work more closely.
The novel Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk tells the story of a man who, frustrated with his mundane job and Ikea lifestyle, becomes involved in a weekly fight club with other men looking for a release. After some time, the men in the club begin organizing "Project Mayhem," a group meant to challenge what they see as the stifling effects of corporate America through acts of sabotage and vandalism.
The story could be read entirely as a story of a man finding ways to progressively disconnect from and eventually challenge the society in which he lives; it is a search to connect with other people in true relationship. The author says, "All my books are about a lonely person looking for some way to connect with other people." The narrator starts his search by attending various support groups for diseases and disorders in order to witness and share in true suffering; it is at these meetings that he is able to cry for the first time and battle his recurrent insomnia. Eventually, as those meetings are interrupted and he meets the enigmatic Tyler Durden, he gets involved in the weekly fight club in which strangers fight strangers fist-to-fist in gruesome (but controlled) bouts. Injuries get worse and worse (especially in the novel, which is particularly graphic), but the description of the fight club is very intriguing:
"You aren't alive anywhere like you're alive at fight club. When it's you and one other guy under that one light in the middle of all those watching. Fight club isn't about winning or losing fights. Fight club isn't about words. You see a guy come to fight club for the first time, and his a** is a loaf of white bread. You see this same guy here six months later, and he looks carved out of wood. This guy trusts himself to handle anything. There's grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn't about looking good. There's hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, and when you wake up Sunday afternoon you feel saved."
All of the injuries don't matter to the narrator because he feels like he's finally living; he's using his body and feeling real pain for the first time instead of living comfortably by the dictates of his society.
Does this sound familiar? Just shy of one year ago, in a post titled "Living Boldly," I wrote on this blog:
"[God] did not ever want us to be Sunday-to-Sunday drones, falling asleep in our pews and forcing ourselves to pray because we just don’t feel like we need to. God wanted us to live, really live—one of my favorite promises of Jesus is that he came so that we could “have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10)...God wants us to wake up from the slumber of humdrum Christianity into the passionate storm of radical living. He wants us to feel, possibly for the first time—real joy, real pain, real love."
People are looking for something more, whether they find it in organized religion or family or drugs or sex or, yes, even a club for fighting. The Bible authors know this: Paul writes in Ephesians 2:1-2a, "As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world." Paul writes that a life of sin will be ultimately ungratifying, that following the desires of the flesh will not give us fulfillment or peace. And Chuck Palanhuik says the same thing about a society filled with Starbucks and $20 soap: eventually, the pretense of these appearance-based lives we're living will crumble, and then we will be free.
Little Miss Sunshine, on the other hand, tells the story of a little girl's desire to compete in the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant and her family's cross-country road trip to get her there. Throughout the film, the family learns to work through their dysfunctions to band together and stop worrying about what the world thinks about them. One of the film's most memorable speeches comes from the son, who has recently learned that he cannot follow his dream of attending the Air Force Academy to become a pilot because he is colorblind:
"You know what? F*** beauty contests. Life is one f****** beauty contest after another. You know, school, then college, then work, f*** that. And f*** the Air Force Academy. If I wanna fly, I'll find a way to fly. You do what you love, and f*** the rest."
And the film's climax illustrates the family's understanding of this idea: when the daughter enters the talent portion of the show and begins dancing a raunchy dance to "Superfreak," they ignore the shock of the crowd to join her on stage and dance (before, of course, she is disqualified from the show). The family has fought and cried, but they join together and reject the world's opinion of them.
Once again, I feel like the idea presented is a strong Christian theme. Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:11-12, "Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." Persecution is good—at least it means you're shaking people up and making a splash. We can't be salt of the earth if we don't stick out, because salt that loses its saltiness is "no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men" (5:13).
So, these super-popular works reflect important biblical truths. But I'm not naïve enough to think people like them simply because they explore biblical themes. The truth is, both of these movies appeal to us (and by "us," I think I'm specifically referring to my generation) because they are sexy and witty (in the case of Fight Club) or shockingly funny and dark (Little Miss Sunshine). And that's where the problem comes up—the themes are being presented at the expense of Christian purity.
Fight Club explores societal release through violence, which has never been a Christian virtue. Psalm 11:5: "The LORD examines the righteous, but the wicked and those who love violence his soul hates." Yikes, that's bold. Titus 1:7: "Since an overseer is entrusted with God's work, he must be blameless—not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain." I feel like the biblical image of a transformed believer is one who does not need to resort to violence for any reason; war or anti-war sentiment aside, he conducts himself peacefully and exudes self-control. In Fight Club, what begins as controlled fighting eventually erupts into overt acts of violence against the community, and the film (not the novel) ends with an entire block of offices being destroyed by bombs planted by Project Mayhem.
Little Miss Sunshine, on the other hand, has as its emotional climax a scene that deeply troubles me. For the daughter's talent in the talent portion of the beauty pageant, she performs an extremely sexual dance that her grandfather has taught her. The dance includes sexual movements as well as clothes being removed (she stops before any inappropriate skin is seen). Keep in mind that the character in the film is seven years old, and the actress portraying her was nine years old when it was filmed. In the film, the scene is supposed to be a glorious moment of unity for the family—even as they are embarrassed by her dancing and the crowd's reaction, they join her in her dance on stage because family is more important to them than popular opinion. Two verses pop into mind. Ephesians 5:3: "But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people." The present situation involves more than a hint. And Matthew 18:6: "But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea." I don't need to give much explanation—but I feel like exposing a little girl (the character or the actress) to such sexuality is forbidden in scripture.
Now, obviously, we would be foolish (and sinful) to judge nonbelievers for their actions; after all, how should they know better? Though we may not approve of their actions, it is not our job as humans to judge them for following a different standard. So, here is my question: is it okay for us to celebrate the teachings of Jesus when Jesus is removed from the equation? I find myself reminded of one of the main criticisms of the social justice movement so popular among many Christians: in our eagerness to meet the physical and social needs of peoples around the world, we occasionally tend to leave the story of Jesus out of the picture entirely.
If you ask many of the more conservative Christians, they will answer with a resounding "No." As Exhibit A, I offer the film reviews of Christian website Plugged In Online. For Fight Club, they write, "This dangerous Hollywood head trip could inspire similar machismo among distraght males convinced they have nothing to lose,"* and for Little Miss Sunshine they write, "To make a compelling, artistic, emotional, funny movie, screenwriter Michael Arndt didn't have to make the climax revolve around a child imitating a striptease. He didn't have to include a grandfather who in real life, and with all due consideration to family unity, should have long ago been separated from the lives of his grandchildren because of his incredibly immoral and dangerous behavior and influence...Call this, then, the Little Miss Indie Film That Hates Sunshine."** For these reviewers, the negative content far outweighs any spiritual truth that may be ascertained from the films.
But many Christians in my generation are finding messages in films that speak more truth to them than what they perceive as canned sermons in churches. We love to say that we can handle all of the bad content—these films show real life, after all, and we're not hearing any words we don't hear in the halls or seeing anything that doesn't show up on the news. But I would argue that my generation of Christians might not be able to handle the influence of these films as much as we think we can. I am constantly seeing my peers get messed up in pornography and drugs and profanity and drinking, and I think we seriously underestimate how our perceptions of what is "okay" are affected by what we watch—I'm learning that it's harder and harder for me to say "It's okay for Brad Pitt to do this, since he's in a movie" but then later tell myself, "I can't because it will hurt my relationship with God." I think many of us—myself included—have vastly overestimated our power of discernment, and our lives are the evidence.
Now, a brief word to those who say that the Bible is filled with just as much violence and sexual content as R-rated movies: You are correct. But I think the comparison is completely irresponsible and irrelevant, as I have never heard a case of someone becoming more violent or sexual because of reading the narratives of the Bible. You can say that the Bible has inspired acts of terrorism like the Crusades, but I argue that examples like that involve an inaccurate understanding of the teachings of scripture and not the subtle and pervasive influence of a work of literature, which is the situation I am describing for films.
So, what do we Christians do? Pardon my postmodernism, but there may be no solid answer for everyone. This may be a case in which some Christians can engage media safely and purposefully but others need to avoid its tendency to draw them back to particular sins. For anyone who has often wondered about how they should personally choose to engage pop culture, I would offer two groups of questions (and my own reflections):
1) Is there a good reason for you to engage this movie? Will the message it is preaching—because every work preaches a message, however subtly—draw you closer to God? Is there a better way you could learn the same message?
2) Are you spiritually mature enough to handle the movie? Will it cause you to sin or bring back old temptations? Are there other people in your life who may follow your example of watching this movie but who may not be mature enough themselves?
For the first question, I will say that there have been many times when watching a film spoke deep truths to me, truths that I knew as biblical but had never seen presented so profoundly. Let me give an example: the recent film The Wrestler, which easily earned its R-rating, is a powerful tragedy about the fall of a man. That film made me seriously question my own tendency to try and take on the world by myself while avoiding relationships as well as my efforts to achieve glory for myself.
But I wonder if I could have (and, honestly, I feel like I should have) gotten the same message without subjecting myself to the R-rated content. Whenever someone says they like a film because it shows real suffering and pain, I want to tell him to spend some time with someone experiencing real suffering and pain—that way, he can learn the same lessons while spreading the transforming love of Christ at the same time. We seem to think we have a right to engage pop culture because it is so pervasive in our society, but maybe this is a case in which we can truly live radically by opting not to engage certain films. This does not mean that we shelter ourselves from the world—on the contrary, we engage the world by engaging the hurting people of the world and not a filmmaker's perception of them.
For the second question, I think I have experienced what happens to a lot of people when we go to college and encounter new ideas and lifestyles: the question of strong faith vs. weak faith flares up. All throughout my youth group days, the message seemed to be, "Don't engage the bad stuff, ever." However, since coming to school, I have heard an alternate view: "Engage the bad stuff wisely and maturely." The problem I see is that I think it takes an incredibly strong faith to properly engage culture without letting it drag you down, but I am often tempted to do things for which I do not have strong enough faith simply because I see other Christians who may have strong enough faith doing them. Let me say that in another way: I've had multiple conversations with Christians who believe it is perfectly acceptable to drink responsibly, and they do drink responsibly. But I've also seen Christians who, upon seeing that other responsible Christians have chosen to engage alcohol, engage it as well but without the necessary faith—and because they do not possess the necessary maturity, it goes extremely badly for them. This whole matter is discussed at length in Romans 14, and it merits further discussion.
I think it's easy for me to say that I'm over thinking this whole issue, that it won't hurt me to watch some movies and relax with friends. But Christianity isn't easy, and I think it is foolish for any of us to simply accept what "most Christians" are doing for any particular issue without extensive personal examination. Money, ambition, church participation—I grew up surrounded by accepted "norms" for all of these, but I have a duty to decide what I believe for each of them (with the help of Christian guidance and community, of course).
Because I believe, like Edward Norton's character in Fight Club, that "Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy s*** we don't need."
But I also think that Jesus said it first. And better.
*http://www.pluggedinonline.com/movies/movies/a0000363.cfm
**http://www.pluggedinonline.com/movies/movies/a0002832.cfm
DISCLAIMER: For this post, I am going to be discussing the book/film Fight Club and the film Little Miss Sunshine, both of which are extremely popular among my generation. I want to note that both of these films are rated "R" for very good reasons, and I'm going to be discussing the plots of each work in detail. Use discretion if you choose to engage these works, and please understand that I'm simply trying to determine whether or how Christians should interact with them—because regardless of what anyone says or thinks, Christians (at least my age) are watching them. If you don't want either to be spoiled, you should avoid reading this. This post is not meant to call anyone out or point any fingers, obviously, as I have myself engaged each work—I only ask that, if you feel it is a mistake to watch such films, you will understand that I am earnestly seeking to find God's will in this. Like I said, Christians my age are watching these films. Finally, I've included censored quotes, but the profanity is going to be very obvious.
I think that the reason films like Fight Club and Little Miss Sunshine are so popular is because they've tapped into real, accurate, biblical truths and presented them in stylish, shocking ways. Not to say that they intended to preach, or that the Bible was even considered in their creation—but, even if by accident, they have spoken a message that we know, somehow we know is true, whether we believe the Bible or not. I want to look at each work more closely.
The novel Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk tells the story of a man who, frustrated with his mundane job and Ikea lifestyle, becomes involved in a weekly fight club with other men looking for a release. After some time, the men in the club begin organizing "Project Mayhem," a group meant to challenge what they see as the stifling effects of corporate America through acts of sabotage and vandalism.
The story could be read entirely as a story of a man finding ways to progressively disconnect from and eventually challenge the society in which he lives; it is a search to connect with other people in true relationship. The author says, "All my books are about a lonely person looking for some way to connect with other people." The narrator starts his search by attending various support groups for diseases and disorders in order to witness and share in true suffering; it is at these meetings that he is able to cry for the first time and battle his recurrent insomnia. Eventually, as those meetings are interrupted and he meets the enigmatic Tyler Durden, he gets involved in the weekly fight club in which strangers fight strangers fist-to-fist in gruesome (but controlled) bouts. Injuries get worse and worse (especially in the novel, which is particularly graphic), but the description of the fight club is very intriguing:
"You aren't alive anywhere like you're alive at fight club. When it's you and one other guy under that one light in the middle of all those watching. Fight club isn't about winning or losing fights. Fight club isn't about words. You see a guy come to fight club for the first time, and his a** is a loaf of white bread. You see this same guy here six months later, and he looks carved out of wood. This guy trusts himself to handle anything. There's grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn't about looking good. There's hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, and when you wake up Sunday afternoon you feel saved."
All of the injuries don't matter to the narrator because he feels like he's finally living; he's using his body and feeling real pain for the first time instead of living comfortably by the dictates of his society.
Does this sound familiar? Just shy of one year ago, in a post titled "Living Boldly," I wrote on this blog:
"[God] did not ever want us to be Sunday-to-Sunday drones, falling asleep in our pews and forcing ourselves to pray because we just don’t feel like we need to. God wanted us to live, really live—one of my favorite promises of Jesus is that he came so that we could “have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10)...God wants us to wake up from the slumber of humdrum Christianity into the passionate storm of radical living. He wants us to feel, possibly for the first time—real joy, real pain, real love."
People are looking for something more, whether they find it in organized religion or family or drugs or sex or, yes, even a club for fighting. The Bible authors know this: Paul writes in Ephesians 2:1-2a, "As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world." Paul writes that a life of sin will be ultimately ungratifying, that following the desires of the flesh will not give us fulfillment or peace. And Chuck Palanhuik says the same thing about a society filled with Starbucks and $20 soap: eventually, the pretense of these appearance-based lives we're living will crumble, and then we will be free.
Little Miss Sunshine, on the other hand, tells the story of a little girl's desire to compete in the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant and her family's cross-country road trip to get her there. Throughout the film, the family learns to work through their dysfunctions to band together and stop worrying about what the world thinks about them. One of the film's most memorable speeches comes from the son, who has recently learned that he cannot follow his dream of attending the Air Force Academy to become a pilot because he is colorblind:
"You know what? F*** beauty contests. Life is one f****** beauty contest after another. You know, school, then college, then work, f*** that. And f*** the Air Force Academy. If I wanna fly, I'll find a way to fly. You do what you love, and f*** the rest."
And the film's climax illustrates the family's understanding of this idea: when the daughter enters the talent portion of the show and begins dancing a raunchy dance to "Superfreak," they ignore the shock of the crowd to join her on stage and dance (before, of course, she is disqualified from the show). The family has fought and cried, but they join together and reject the world's opinion of them.
Once again, I feel like the idea presented is a strong Christian theme. Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:11-12, "Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." Persecution is good—at least it means you're shaking people up and making a splash. We can't be salt of the earth if we don't stick out, because salt that loses its saltiness is "no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men" (5:13).
So, these super-popular works reflect important biblical truths. But I'm not naïve enough to think people like them simply because they explore biblical themes. The truth is, both of these movies appeal to us (and by "us," I think I'm specifically referring to my generation) because they are sexy and witty (in the case of Fight Club) or shockingly funny and dark (Little Miss Sunshine). And that's where the problem comes up—the themes are being presented at the expense of Christian purity.
Fight Club explores societal release through violence, which has never been a Christian virtue. Psalm 11:5: "The LORD examines the righteous, but the wicked and those who love violence his soul hates." Yikes, that's bold. Titus 1:7: "Since an overseer is entrusted with God's work, he must be blameless—not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain." I feel like the biblical image of a transformed believer is one who does not need to resort to violence for any reason; war or anti-war sentiment aside, he conducts himself peacefully and exudes self-control. In Fight Club, what begins as controlled fighting eventually erupts into overt acts of violence against the community, and the film (not the novel) ends with an entire block of offices being destroyed by bombs planted by Project Mayhem.
Little Miss Sunshine, on the other hand, has as its emotional climax a scene that deeply troubles me. For the daughter's talent in the talent portion of the beauty pageant, she performs an extremely sexual dance that her grandfather has taught her. The dance includes sexual movements as well as clothes being removed (she stops before any inappropriate skin is seen). Keep in mind that the character in the film is seven years old, and the actress portraying her was nine years old when it was filmed. In the film, the scene is supposed to be a glorious moment of unity for the family—even as they are embarrassed by her dancing and the crowd's reaction, they join her in her dance on stage because family is more important to them than popular opinion. Two verses pop into mind. Ephesians 5:3: "But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people." The present situation involves more than a hint. And Matthew 18:6: "But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea." I don't need to give much explanation—but I feel like exposing a little girl (the character or the actress) to such sexuality is forbidden in scripture.
Now, obviously, we would be foolish (and sinful) to judge nonbelievers for their actions; after all, how should they know better? Though we may not approve of their actions, it is not our job as humans to judge them for following a different standard. So, here is my question: is it okay for us to celebrate the teachings of Jesus when Jesus is removed from the equation? I find myself reminded of one of the main criticisms of the social justice movement so popular among many Christians: in our eagerness to meet the physical and social needs of peoples around the world, we occasionally tend to leave the story of Jesus out of the picture entirely.
If you ask many of the more conservative Christians, they will answer with a resounding "No." As Exhibit A, I offer the film reviews of Christian website Plugged In Online. For Fight Club, they write, "This dangerous Hollywood head trip could inspire similar machismo among distraght males convinced they have nothing to lose,"* and for Little Miss Sunshine they write, "To make a compelling, artistic, emotional, funny movie, screenwriter Michael Arndt didn't have to make the climax revolve around a child imitating a striptease. He didn't have to include a grandfather who in real life, and with all due consideration to family unity, should have long ago been separated from the lives of his grandchildren because of his incredibly immoral and dangerous behavior and influence...Call this, then, the Little Miss Indie Film That Hates Sunshine."** For these reviewers, the negative content far outweighs any spiritual truth that may be ascertained from the films.
But many Christians in my generation are finding messages in films that speak more truth to them than what they perceive as canned sermons in churches. We love to say that we can handle all of the bad content—these films show real life, after all, and we're not hearing any words we don't hear in the halls or seeing anything that doesn't show up on the news. But I would argue that my generation of Christians might not be able to handle the influence of these films as much as we think we can. I am constantly seeing my peers get messed up in pornography and drugs and profanity and drinking, and I think we seriously underestimate how our perceptions of what is "okay" are affected by what we watch—I'm learning that it's harder and harder for me to say "It's okay for Brad Pitt to do this, since he's in a movie" but then later tell myself, "I can't because it will hurt my relationship with God." I think many of us—myself included—have vastly overestimated our power of discernment, and our lives are the evidence.
Now, a brief word to those who say that the Bible is filled with just as much violence and sexual content as R-rated movies: You are correct. But I think the comparison is completely irresponsible and irrelevant, as I have never heard a case of someone becoming more violent or sexual because of reading the narratives of the Bible. You can say that the Bible has inspired acts of terrorism like the Crusades, but I argue that examples like that involve an inaccurate understanding of the teachings of scripture and not the subtle and pervasive influence of a work of literature, which is the situation I am describing for films.
So, what do we Christians do? Pardon my postmodernism, but there may be no solid answer for everyone. This may be a case in which some Christians can engage media safely and purposefully but others need to avoid its tendency to draw them back to particular sins. For anyone who has often wondered about how they should personally choose to engage pop culture, I would offer two groups of questions (and my own reflections):
1) Is there a good reason for you to engage this movie? Will the message it is preaching—because every work preaches a message, however subtly—draw you closer to God? Is there a better way you could learn the same message?
2) Are you spiritually mature enough to handle the movie? Will it cause you to sin or bring back old temptations? Are there other people in your life who may follow your example of watching this movie but who may not be mature enough themselves?
For the first question, I will say that there have been many times when watching a film spoke deep truths to me, truths that I knew as biblical but had never seen presented so profoundly. Let me give an example: the recent film The Wrestler, which easily earned its R-rating, is a powerful tragedy about the fall of a man. That film made me seriously question my own tendency to try and take on the world by myself while avoiding relationships as well as my efforts to achieve glory for myself.
But I wonder if I could have (and, honestly, I feel like I should have) gotten the same message without subjecting myself to the R-rated content. Whenever someone says they like a film because it shows real suffering and pain, I want to tell him to spend some time with someone experiencing real suffering and pain—that way, he can learn the same lessons while spreading the transforming love of Christ at the same time. We seem to think we have a right to engage pop culture because it is so pervasive in our society, but maybe this is a case in which we can truly live radically by opting not to engage certain films. This does not mean that we shelter ourselves from the world—on the contrary, we engage the world by engaging the hurting people of the world and not a filmmaker's perception of them.
For the second question, I think I have experienced what happens to a lot of people when we go to college and encounter new ideas and lifestyles: the question of strong faith vs. weak faith flares up. All throughout my youth group days, the message seemed to be, "Don't engage the bad stuff, ever." However, since coming to school, I have heard an alternate view: "Engage the bad stuff wisely and maturely." The problem I see is that I think it takes an incredibly strong faith to properly engage culture without letting it drag you down, but I am often tempted to do things for which I do not have strong enough faith simply because I see other Christians who may have strong enough faith doing them. Let me say that in another way: I've had multiple conversations with Christians who believe it is perfectly acceptable to drink responsibly, and they do drink responsibly. But I've also seen Christians who, upon seeing that other responsible Christians have chosen to engage alcohol, engage it as well but without the necessary faith—and because they do not possess the necessary maturity, it goes extremely badly for them. This whole matter is discussed at length in Romans 14, and it merits further discussion.
I think it's easy for me to say that I'm over thinking this whole issue, that it won't hurt me to watch some movies and relax with friends. But Christianity isn't easy, and I think it is foolish for any of us to simply accept what "most Christians" are doing for any particular issue without extensive personal examination. Money, ambition, church participation—I grew up surrounded by accepted "norms" for all of these, but I have a duty to decide what I believe for each of them (with the help of Christian guidance and community, of course).
Because I believe, like Edward Norton's character in Fight Club, that "Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy s*** we don't need."
But I also think that Jesus said it first. And better.
*http://www.pluggedinonline.com/movies/movies/a0000363.cfm
**http://www.pluggedinonline.com/movies/movies/a0002832.cfm
BOOK RESPONSE: "unChristian" by David Kinnaman
WHY I READ IT: For my "Christianity in Culture" class
The full title of this book is unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity...and Why it Matters, so I was intrigued from the beginning. The book is essentially reflections on a large research project conducted by The Barna Group intended to determine the prevailing conceptions of mainstream Christianity among 16-29 year olds (as well as older age groups).
It will probably come as a surprise to very few that the prevailing conceptions are generally negative. The book goes into great detail about the survey and its results, but I'll give a brief summary. One of the main questions they asked "Outsiders," their name for non-Christians, was which of a list of terms (positive and negative) they thought described present-day Christianity. The top three choices receiving answers of "a lot or some"—out of a list of good and bad terms—were antihomosexual, judgmental, and hypocritical. The next two highest responses were teaches same basic values as other religions and has good values and principles.
I will say in defense of my religion that I think it has almost become trendy to label Christians as hypocritical, even though a basic understanding of the faith reveals that we do not preach perfection but forgiveness. However, the main point of the authors (which I think is valid) is that Outsiders get their opinions somewhere, and we had better do everything we can from our end to give them a favorable image of Christianity. The authors don't suggest that what Christianity needs is better marketing; instead, they say that people misinterpret our faith because we have misrepresented it ourself.
And this is where the book gets interesting, because the authors aren't content to just say, "People think we're hypocritical, so stop being hypocritical." Each chapter attends to a different negative perception of Christanity: Hypocritical, Get Saved!, Antihomosexual, Sheltered, Too Political, and Judgmental. And for each chapter, they try and show how our own deeper misunderstandings have led to those surface symptoms. For example, in the "Hypocritical" chapter, they suggest that people see us as hypocritical because we have focused too much on righteous living and not enough on God's grace; as a result, we can't live up to our own too-high standards. The problem is not that we sin; the problem is that we tell people with our lives that real Christians never make mistakes.
I'm glad they take this approach, because the truth is that many of the negative understandings people have of Christianity, such as "Antihomosexual," are based on biblical truths that may have gone awry but cannot be completely forgotten. If the authors simply encouraged us to soften our teachings on homosexuality until things calmed down, we would be betraying our faith; instead, they call us to higher standards and force us to re-examine what Jesus called us to in the first place.
One final note: I noticed in this book a certain optimism, which I appreciate. The approach is not "Look at how much people don't like us," but instead an approach of "We have the opportunity to show people that Jesus is better than their misconceptions (or, maybe, accurate conceptions) of Christians." It's really easy to write a book that bashes mistakes we're making, but it takes imagination to focus on the positives of where we can go from here.
I recommend the book to anyone working with any younger generations of Christians, especially those in campus or youth ministry—or anyone whose church may seem thin in those demographics. It's lengthy with a lot of statistics, but it's pretty eye-opening.
NEXT BOOK: I've just finished Tuesdays With Morrie (Mitch Albom) and Dark Journey, Deep Grace (Roy Ratcliff) for that same class, but I'm not sure if I'll respond to those on this blog.
Along the same theme of this book, one of my friends recently pointed me to a very interesting article published in Newsweek called "The End of Christian America" dealing with the waning influence of Christianity in politics, etc. It's certainly worth a read: http://www.newsweek.com/id/192583
The full title of this book is unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity...and Why it Matters, so I was intrigued from the beginning. The book is essentially reflections on a large research project conducted by The Barna Group intended to determine the prevailing conceptions of mainstream Christianity among 16-29 year olds (as well as older age groups).
It will probably come as a surprise to very few that the prevailing conceptions are generally negative. The book goes into great detail about the survey and its results, but I'll give a brief summary. One of the main questions they asked "Outsiders," their name for non-Christians, was which of a list of terms (positive and negative) they thought described present-day Christianity. The top three choices receiving answers of "a lot or some"—out of a list of good and bad terms—were antihomosexual, judgmental, and hypocritical. The next two highest responses were teaches same basic values as other religions and has good values and principles.
I will say in defense of my religion that I think it has almost become trendy to label Christians as hypocritical, even though a basic understanding of the faith reveals that we do not preach perfection but forgiveness. However, the main point of the authors (which I think is valid) is that Outsiders get their opinions somewhere, and we had better do everything we can from our end to give them a favorable image of Christianity. The authors don't suggest that what Christianity needs is better marketing; instead, they say that people misinterpret our faith because we have misrepresented it ourself.
And this is where the book gets interesting, because the authors aren't content to just say, "People think we're hypocritical, so stop being hypocritical." Each chapter attends to a different negative perception of Christanity: Hypocritical, Get Saved!, Antihomosexual, Sheltered, Too Political, and Judgmental. And for each chapter, they try and show how our own deeper misunderstandings have led to those surface symptoms. For example, in the "Hypocritical" chapter, they suggest that people see us as hypocritical because we have focused too much on righteous living and not enough on God's grace; as a result, we can't live up to our own too-high standards. The problem is not that we sin; the problem is that we tell people with our lives that real Christians never make mistakes.
I'm glad they take this approach, because the truth is that many of the negative understandings people have of Christianity, such as "Antihomosexual," are based on biblical truths that may have gone awry but cannot be completely forgotten. If the authors simply encouraged us to soften our teachings on homosexuality until things calmed down, we would be betraying our faith; instead, they call us to higher standards and force us to re-examine what Jesus called us to in the first place.
One final note: I noticed in this book a certain optimism, which I appreciate. The approach is not "Look at how much people don't like us," but instead an approach of "We have the opportunity to show people that Jesus is better than their misconceptions (or, maybe, accurate conceptions) of Christians." It's really easy to write a book that bashes mistakes we're making, but it takes imagination to focus on the positives of where we can go from here.
I recommend the book to anyone working with any younger generations of Christians, especially those in campus or youth ministry—or anyone whose church may seem thin in those demographics. It's lengthy with a lot of statistics, but it's pretty eye-opening.
NEXT BOOK: I've just finished Tuesdays With Morrie (Mitch Albom) and Dark Journey, Deep Grace (Roy Ratcliff) for that same class, but I'm not sure if I'll respond to those on this blog.
Along the same theme of this book, one of my friends recently pointed me to a very interesting article published in Newsweek called "The End of Christian America" dealing with the waning influence of Christianity in politics, etc. It's certainly worth a read: http://www.newsweek.com/id/192583
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