post

Review: The Bible Made Impossible

If I were to have a favorite book format, it would be the “dismantle and suggest” format. It’s a common format, one that challenges what we think about a subject, and gently, or sometimes not so gently, dismantling that belief system. At it’s best, this format then suggests a way forward, though not necessarily providing a rigid alternative that leaves nothing to the imagination of the readers. I read to grow in my own thinking, and this type of book structure works best for me.

This format is on clear display in a book that will be challenging, even troubling, for many: The Bible Made Impossible, by Christian Smith. But as challenging as it might be for some, it will be hopeful for many others; for those who find value in the words of the Bible, but are oft distressed at how the Bible can be reduce to a collection of forumulas for how to live. Or, perhaps, a collection of texts that we can mine for supportive content on how we think we (and others) should live.

I’ve long had misgivings about the use of the word ‘Biblical’ as an adjective to describe anything. It’s as if we can stamp this on front of an idea to give it authority. But the Bible is far too complex of a text, er, a collection of texts, to be reduced to a field guide for how to live. That’s not to say that the Bible should have to sway in how we live, but it should be seen as a larger narrative in which all of life can be seen, rather than pieces of advice for pieces of our life.

It is this broad misuse of Scripture that Smith addresses in The Bible Made Impossibly, describing how contemporary North American evangelicalism has created a scenario for the Bible that it is not mean to live up to. It is an impossible. And I find deep resonance in most of what Smith has to say, and deep hope as well, that the Bible can be more.

As a taster, I offer a number, but certainly not all, of my underlines from the book:

  • This book addresses Christians, especially evangelicals, who believe that the Bible is a divine word of truth that should function as an authority for Christian faith and practice, and who want to espouse a coherent position that justifies and defends that belief. My contention here is that the American evangelical commitment to “biblicism,” which I will define and describe in detail below, is an untenable position that ought to be abandoned in favor of a better approach to Christian truth and authority.

  • the biblicism that in much of American evangelicalism is presupposed to be the cornerstone to Christian truth and faithfulness is misguided and impossible. It does not and cannot live up to its own claims.

  • My proposals assume that biblicism can be escaped not by turning away from an evangelical approach to the Bible but rather by becoming even more truly evangelical in the reading of scripture. Contrary to the fears of some biblicists, leaving biblicism behind need not mean losing the best of evangelicalism but, instead, can mean strengthening an evangelical hermeneutic of scripture.

  • So the question is this: if the Bible is given by a truthful and omnipotent God as an internally consistent and perspicuous text precisely for the purpose of revealing to humans correct beliefs, practices, and morals, then why is it that the presumably sincere Christians to whom it has been given cannot read it and come to common agreement about what it teaches? I know of no good, honest answer to that question.

  • The above two points are reinforced by the complicating third point that many American evangelicals—especially those shaped by the church-growth movement—assume that numerical growth in a congregation indicates spiritual strength and vitality, which, in turn, indicates possession of the truth. Numerical growth, the assumption suggests, can be taken as an empirical indicator that the Holy Spirit is present and working and leading a congregation into the right beliefs. God must be “blessing” such a spiritually vibrant and faithful church with increased numbers of visitors and members. The logic is faulty, of course.

  • Those studies make clear that, far from scripture functioning as an independent authority guiding the lives of believers, the Bible is often used by its readers in various ways to help legitimate and maintain the commitments and assumptions that they already hold before coming to the biblical text. In other cases, biblical texts often do not function as authorities driving discussions and applications of scriptural truths but are instead selectively engaged and made sense of primarily according to what happens to be personally, subjectively relevant to the reader at the time.

  • Evangelical biblicism is not an especially evangelical way to read the Bible. In practice, biblicism demeans scripture. On the surface, biblicism appears to champion a “high view” of the Bible, but its actual practices betray a rather low view of the Bible. Evangelicals who are truly evangelical can and ought to do better.

  • The purpose, center, and interpretive key to scripture is Jesus Christ. It is embarrassing to have to write this, for it should be obvious to all Christians. But I am afraid this is not always so obvious in practice in biblicist circles. At least the profound implications of this fact for reading scripture are not always obvious to many evangelicals.

  • But talking and acting as if the Bible is God’s only and highest self-revelation is completely “unbiblical,” even when considered in biblicist terms.

And a big thank you to Adam Shields for lending me the Kindle version of the book via Lendle.

quote

In the realm of spiritual transformation, the questions we are willing to ask ourselves are more important than the answers we think we know

Ruth Haley Barton in Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation

quote

Jesus offers a deeper vision for spiritual transformation. It begins with his gateway invitation: “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Mt 5:3). We never get beyond this. We can never transform our own hearts. God does the work. And we keep receiving his mercy and surrendering to his power.

Matt Woodley The Gospel of Matthew: God with Us

post

Favorite Reads of 2011

post

On Baseball and Presence

I still long to be someplace else, it’s just that the locations have changed.

I grew up an hour away from Mile High Stadium. It was the legendary home of the Denver Broncos, so named to remind opponents that oxygen would be scarce and gasps would be plentiful. My own visits to Mile High were just as scarce, and it was not the Denver Broncos that I saw on my first visit to Mile High Stadium, but the Denver Bears.

The Bears were a AAA baseball team in the Montreal Expos organization. While I knew the Bears were not major leaguers, the game met my expectations as the gargantuan 76,000 seat stadium (with 73,000 empty seats) matched up with the giant stadiums I had seen on TV on Saturday afternoon baseball. Even so, I couldn’t contain my excitement when the Bears came out for warm-ups wearing Expos jerseys and hats. I was convinced that the Expos themselves had taken the field…surely one of these players was Tim Raines himself! Surely.

Big league baseball was a reality that remained a mystery to me, withheld by large distances and the limited exposure of one broadcast a week and a pile of baseball cards. I bought Street and Smith’s Baseball Preview every season for a chance to read about how all my favorite players, and my favorite team, were projected to do. What happened last year didn’t matter, only what the experts thought was going to happen next. The Angels were, and still are, my team of choice. If you were to ask me why, I would have told you it was because they were the closest team to where I was born. Which was true, but I’m sure it also had a lot to do with their appearance in the 1979 playoffs. And the 1982 playoffs didn’t hurt. In the days of three channels sucked in by a rickety jungle gym in the attic, opportunities to see baseball were rare, and the playoffs were precious exposure to a boy with loyalties to be placed.

The Angels shared a division rivalry with the Kansas City Royals. A year or two into my Street and Smith’s habit, I noticed a listing in the latter pages with the flagship radio stations for each team. The suns rays could block AM radio signals, but the Great Plains could not. When the Angels played their frequent games against the Royals, I would begin tuning my AM radio to the Royals station to the east as the sun started dropping behind the mountains to the west. On the best nights, the crack of the bat could be distinguished from the static.

My first big league game was at the tiny old ballpark in Arlington to see the Rangers on a trip to see to my grandparents and cousins. The stadium was smaller than Mile High, but this was the bigger league. Many visits to ballparks were to follow, especially to the Angels home in Anaheim, I won’t say that I chose to go to undergrad ten minutes from Anaheim only because of the Angels, but it didn’t hurt my decision.

At the risk of taking a turn toward the “Back in my day” stylings of a, um, mature man, I have to say that things have changed. Any game currently being played is available to me live on the screen I’m typing these words on. All I need is a button press and a few taps. Almost every game being played today is piped over the ether for me to watch, on this screen, on my TV, or even on the small phone laying beside me. The mystery has been curtailed by availability.

The availability isn’t all bad. My son is being properly trained to root for the Angels, but their West Coast heavy schedule means there games often don’t even start until after he is in bed. My heart glows when he asks me, “Did the Angels win last night?” or “Will you tell me the score of the Angels game when I wake up tomorrow?” The replay of any game this season is as close as the AppleTV remote, and sometimes he squeezes in by me to watch the game summaries the next day.

What was once a mysterious reality to me is ever-present for him. And I wonder what will hold his wonder. Will baseball be so available to him that it won’t be a rare and precious treat, as it was to me? It’s not only baseball, of course. We have instant access to libraries of books, stacks of movie reels and piles of TV episodes. (In the interest of preserving your sentimentality, I’d exhort you to avoid watching the original Battlestar Galactica on Netflix.)

We have access to so much, yet we still want to experience something more. The more I have available to me, the more I have an inkling that something is happening somewhere that I might be missing out on. It is difficult for us to be present ‘here’, because we can be connected to anywhere. I used to strain to hear the sounds of the game through the static, now they prompt me to glance up at the bigger screen while I’m engaged in two or three other things on the smaller screen on my lap.

And I’m reminded, or at least in need of being reminded, that there is always something worthy of my wonder in any moment. I need only be present. Reality is still full of mystery, and nowhere is that reality more interesting than the moment and the matter that are surrounding me right now.

post

This is a Great, Thoughtful Essay. Right?

I have this urge.

Sometimes I read great, thoughtful essays about things that most of us don’t have the time to care about. Sometimes I don’t read them, because I don’t have time to read them, let alone care about them. But I want to care about them. Or I want to want to care about them. And that’s pretty noble of me, isn’t it? I think to myself that people who write great, thoughtful essays must be great, thoughtful people. And my thinking moves on to thinking about how I’d like to be one of these great, thoughtful people. And then I keep thinking more, and I wonder if I don’t care as much about being a great, thoughtful person as I care about you thinking I’m a great thoughtful person. You and everyone else. And their moms.

So this is the urge I confess to you. I want to be (seen as) a great, thoughtful writer of great, thoughtful essays that make your life better. Or at least that make my life better because they cause you to perceive me as great and thoughtful. But the urge gets hung up often. Never mind that I might not actually be a great, thoughtful person. That’s a different hang up, and one I’d rather not think about. Or, more importantly, have you think about.

The urge dies out because I sometimes read, or start to read, essays by others who would aspire to be great, thoughtful people. But they turn out to be self-ascribed pundits who have enough spare words to write their own press too. They are more wordful than thoughtful, and there isn’t much to like about them. Most of them don’t even seem to care if I like them. This need to be liked, I think, we’ve clearly established is an issue for me. Maybe that’s the best thing I have going for me. I won’t be a blabbering pundit with an opinion whether you like it or not, simply because I want my words to have some role in forming your opinion, rather than simply turning you off from mine.

I don’t need you to agree with everything I say. But I want to have a thoughtful posture in my writing that will lead to a thoughtful posture in your reading. I want to write words that you can nod your head too, and sometimes shake you head at as well. It’s lovely if you agree, and also quite fine if you disagree. But I want to know that you are stirred in your thinking, enough to read all the way to the end. Any maybe even think a little further about what I had to say beyond that.

Part of writing great, thoughtful essays is more about forming the thoughts that are coming from within my own soul, rather than only articulating responses to others. I am, by nature, an introvert, so I spend a lot of time internalizing my thoughts, before bringing them out to the light of day. If ever. And words written as responses and reactions to others are much safer words to write. But this also betrays my introverted nature, because the most important process for an introvert is to bring those inner thoughts to my lips and fingertips, and from there to the ears and eyes of others. And their moms.

I started this blog nearly seven years ago. Somewhere, I think I lost my way. I never had a way in mind, so that, I’m guessing, is what made it easy to lose. I don’t even know that I lost my way, so much as I defined my way as I went. And at some point, I decided I would use it as a place to only talk about certain things. Now it is time to not be so certain. I’m rebooting this blog, and moving all the old stuff to a separate archive. I’m making no promises to you, and the only promise I’m making myself is to finish the last few lines of this great, thoughtful essay. But going forward, the primary purpose of this blog is only to arrange the words that are tumbling around in my soul. Or maybe only the ones that might make you like me more.

post

Our Monthly Community Rhythm

For most of this year, we’ve been thinking about the monthly rhythms in our church community, and how we might be more intentional in forming those.

And letting them form us.

The idea of a monthly rhythm has been with us since the start, as we started with the intention of a forming a network of smaller communities that come together once or two Sundays per month. In the meantime, I’ve been exposed to the growing conversation about missional communities, most of which have some kind of monthly rhythm involved.

In the last few months, our community rhythm has gelled. I’m looking forward to see how it shapes our community, yet hopeful we can hold it loosely enough recognize that this rhythm might only be for this season, and reshaping in another.

Our rhythm is wrapped in stories, with an eye to how God has been involved in the larger story of history, and how we see God continuing to engage in our story as a community and as individuals. This rhythm of stories plays out in how we gather on Sundays, and it is shaping up to look like this:

  • First Sunday – The first Sunday of every month is a Sunday of participation in story. God’s ongoing story is one of redemption and repair, so on the first Sunday of every month we give ourselves to living this out. We look for needs in our surrounding community that we might be able to engage with. Two months ago, that meant we visited a senior care center to spend time with residents there. This month, we provided materials and made blankets for the children who visit a local Child Advocacy Center.
  • Second and Fourth Sunday – The second and fourth Sunday gatherings are formed around a retelling of God’s ongoing story. These Sundays, are gathering is focused on the text of Scriptures that form how we see ourselves and the world we are part of. As we see God’s work in the stories of Scripture, so we hope to be more aware of God’s stories in the present.
  • Third Sunday – The third Sunday gathering of every month is a time of recognizing God’s presence. It is the Sunday where we feature Eucharist as a reminder of God’s presence. We also, as individuals, help each other work through two questions: 1) What is God saying to me? and 2) What am I doing about it? There aren’t better questions for followers of Jesus to be asking, and as we partner with God as a community, we also want to be a collective of individuals paying attention to what God is inviting them to.

We are only in our second month of this rhythm, and some of the language around it is still forming. Some of this rhythm has formed intentionally, and some we have come by along the way, but I’m excited to see how our community, and those who are part of it, are shaped by these rhythms.

post

The Church of Prophets

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.

–Ephesians 4:11-13

This spring, I’ve been working through what’s often called the fivefold ministries described above — apostle, prophet, etc. — and what they mean for our church community. We’ve developed enough of a core community that we can begin having conversations together about how these roles might be expressed within Austin Mustard Seed.

There was not much emphasis on these roles in my previous church experiences. Most often, they were lumped with some of the other lists of gifts found in 1 Corinthans and Romans. In the structured North American church, there has not been much interest in cultivating these roles, as the church has primarily operated to maintain and improve what was already happening.

In the missional church conversation, there has been a renewed interest in these roles and how they are important for shaping the church as it re-imagines itself for our changing context. Practical missional theologians, like JR Woodward, Alan Hirsch, Mike Breen and Wolfgang Simpson have written about the importance of these roles in helping each local church expression form itself to the context where it lives. It was some of these writings that I returned to, but there is still much thinking to be developed here, and I’m excited that JR has an entire book in the works that will be dedicated to the topic.

(If you’ve not read much about the fivefold ministry, I’d suggest some of the writings JR has made available on his site as a good place to start.)

As I worked through the materials, and took the APEST test available at Alan Hirsch’s site, I identified as Prophet with a secondary role of Teacher. It has been significant to me to see how that Prophet voice has expressed itself at times in my adult life, but I’m also aware how underdeveloped it is. It has left me with a renewed sense of calling to engage what it means to live into that calling, both within our local church community, but also to find ways to develop that voice for the wider church.

It has also helped me to recognize that the very nature of what we are doing as a church is driven by that Prophet impulse. Sensing a need to help the church in North America re-imagine itself, we have moved to the margin of the church culture out of a need to express and demonstrate what that re-imagination might look like.

I’ve had a handful of conversations with people in our core community about the five-fold ministry, and last night we worked through it in our gathering. After introducing the roles, we took a test based on what in Mike Breen’s book Building a Discipling Culture. We only had only a few minutes to debrief as everyone scored their results (thanks to the fidgeting of the younger kids who were ready for bed) but an interesting trend was evident. We are a church of prophets…

Nearly every adult who took the test scored as a prophet in either their primary or their secondary role. I’m not entirely sure what to make of this. It might be because people are drawn to others who are like themselves, so people with a prophetic urge are drawn to it as they see it in me, and now each other. Or it might be that because the nature of what we are doing as a church has a prophet bent to it, it attracts individuals with that bent.

Thankfully, we had a fairly even mix of the other four roles, and I’m hopeful we can empower and encourage each of those voices in our community. But, I’m also praying that we can honor this prophetic sense without letting it dominate who we are becoming.

post

The Good and Beautiful Community

Over the past year or so, I’ve worked through the Good and Beautiful series, by James Bryan Smith, with a friend from our church community. Last week, we finished the final book in the series, The Good and Beautiful Community. The first two books are The Good and Beautiful God and The Good and Beautiful Life. The first book in the series is still my favorite, but this final book was better than the second.

If you aren’t familiar, each book in the series is a combination between a chapter of content, followed by a few pages of a practice related to the content. It is designed to best be used in a group setting to discuss the learnings from both the content and the practice. I felt like the practices were more focused in the first book as exercises that could be completed each week, while they were less defined as the series went on. I suppose you could argue that as one goes through the series, the practices should move more from specific exercises to a general rhythm of life, and perhaps that’s what the series are trying to do.

The focus of the this third book is to understand and practice what it means to be connected within a Christian community. While much of the content might be considered introductory, it is also helpful for someone who’s long been in Christian community to evaluate where they are at.

The book, and the series, finish strong, as Smith asks the read to write a rule of life. It is a handing of the baton as the series finishes, asking the reader to take on responsibility for their continued spiritual formation. All of the practices from the series are listed, and the reader is encouraged to craft a rhythm of exercises to help them continue to be formed into who God intended them to be. I like this finish, because rather than moving on to another book or series, we are now committed to engaging with the rule of life that we wrote and coming together each week to talk about how that is going.

(There is some irony that a book on community ends with each person developing their own individual rule of life. That’s more of an indictment on our cultural perspectives than on the book itself, but I imagine it would lead to a powerful finish for a group that has worked through this series to at least craft a partial rule of life together.)

We have liked this series enough that we will use it more in our church community, and my wife has started leading a group of ladies through it as well.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

quote

The small group is the unit of transformation. It is in the structure of how small groups gather that an alternative future will be created. This also means that we must set aside our concern for scale and our concern for speed. Scale, speed, and practicality are always the coded arguments for keeping the existing system in place.” — Peter Block in Community: The Structure of Belonging

I need to read something like once every month or so to remind myself that what we are trying to do with Austin Mustard Seed is completely worthwhile.