The Environmentalist, Take 2

This is an extended and more complete version of the last post. Enjoy.

1.           Environmentalist

Up to this point in time, there have been a relatively small number of books on leadership in post-modern ecclesiology. However, one such work has redefined the way I view the idea of church leadership in a post-Christian society. Tim Keel’s book Intuitive Leadership is an attempt to reconcile the ideas of post-modernity with a living gospel as it meets the church. Keel describes the trend of the modern church to exist primarily in structures, hoping that those structures will be infinitely transferable to any context. So, we trade strategies and tactics, assuming that “growth” is mass producible. And what we have traded for all of this is creativity and imagination. We have swapped living, breathing relationships for pragmatic programming. This, however, creates huge problems for creative souls. Creativity despises vain repetition.[1] It will not tolerate the preservation of a system, particularly one that loses its primary identity. In the case of the people of God, we crave established “success” and have neglected concern for the oppressed, love for one another and genuine commitments to Christ.[2]

Creativity is easily identified, Keel says, by its fondness for tension.[3] Creatives thrive on the difficult questions that arise from differing perspectives. Creative souls love to take previously established dichotomies and discover new ways between the two. These people do not require all the answers, instead, they only long for the next set of questions. Tension allows for possibility. It opens the door to an unknown number of realities, if the environment is ripe.[4]

Such creative communities require leadership that recognizes the potential grass-rootsy type of community that a freedom of expression might create. It is a place where dialogue is preferred to authoritative lecturing. It is a community, Keel says, that values a life defined from the “bottom up.”[5] If this is truly the case, than the pastor’s primary role as the most powerful decision-maker and communicator might tend to hinder the life of such a community rather than enhance it. Keel says it best when he says:

As a result, the linear dynamics of an organization oriented around a plan are not as important as creating an environment in which values shape a creative identity and expression comes as a result of adaptive engagement within a specific context… {L}eaders become environmentalists… Such environmentalists help to create and shape cultures of trust that respond and adapt creatively to their location and what God is doing there. But that doesn’t mean that all of the organizational needs are lost in favor of a purely organic expression. Leaders who understand themselves as environmentalists must maintain a healthy regard for the operational aspects that give expression to the corporate identity and common expressions of life that flow from this identity.[6]

A pastor’s primary responsibility is to nurture an environment ripe for spiritual growth. Rather than a Sunday-morning-performer, a pastor works the soil, preparing carefully and thoughtfully to allow growth in the community.

Often times, we think of the pastor in business terms. The pastor is the CEO of the church. Therefore, the pastor's responsibilities can only be judged in dollars and attendance records. Unfortunately, such a view of the pastor neglects the primary role of the church: to serve the world and create disciples that are actively following Christ. While it's true that the big churches with their big numbers are probably reaching more people in terms of making disciples, such a system utterly neglects those churches in communities where only the few are drawn to Christ. More than that, it necessarily elevates the potential of an urban church to a rural church. The little church in the country has no chance of being deemed "effective" on this model, because the population per capita of their reach is significantly smaller. And truth be told, I'm not sure that if we focused our energies on advancing the gospel with any shred of pure honesty in suburban areas (where most megachurches seem to flourish) that people would come. It seems to me that we have simplified the gospel to make it more marketable. We've gotten exactly what we wanted, but what did it cost us?

So instead of being a CEO, the pastor's job is first and foremost to create an environment of authentic growth and development. The pastor works the soil to nurture those in her care towards a more authentic and holistic life of faith. This means that the pastor's first task is to know the shape of the congregation, to know what needs to be communicated and to find any and every way possible to challenge the people. This means that a pastor's primary responsibility ought to be to any corporate times where the pastor can lead all people at once. Having spent time working in churches, it seems that this often becomes the pastor's last responsibility, squeezed in wherever there are a few spare minutes.

Instead, the pastor ought to thoughtfully prepare a service that is coherent, that includes challenging questions and that utilizes a variety of elements to continually till the ground and sow the precious seed of the gospel. The produce of a pastor's work as an environmentalist will be evident, but immeasurable.

---

[1] Keel, Tim, Intuitive Leadership. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Books), 2007, 199-200.

[2] This assessment may seem harsh, and it may be. For further thought on these ideas, see Rob Bell’s Jesus Wants to Save Christians (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan), 2008 (particularly chapters 1 and 2).

[3] Keel, 200-201.

[4] Keel, 201.

[5] Keel, 201.

[6] Keel, 202.

An Environmentalist

I'm up early today, and I'm a little bit excited. See, today is the day that my friend Roger's new church meets for the first time. In honor of him and of Wayfare, I thought I'd share some ideas about the Environmentalist of my "job description."

Disclaimer: These ideas are not original (what ideas are). This particular facet of ministry is one I learned from Tim Keel, pastor of Jacob's Well Church in Kansas City, MO.

Often times, we think of the pastor in business terms. The pastor is the CEO of the church. Therefore, the pastor's responsibilities can only be judged in dollars and attendance records. Unfortunately, such a view of the pastor neglects the primary role of the church: to serve the world and create disciples that are actively following Christ. While it's true that the big churches with their big numbers are probably reaching more people in terms of making disciples, such a system utterly neglects those churches in communities where only the few are drawn to Christ. More than that, it necessarily elevates the potential of an urban church to a rural church. The little church in the country has no chance of being deemed "effective" on this model, because the population per capita of their reach is significantly smaller. And truth be told, I'm not sure that if we focused our energies on advancing the gospel with any shred of pure honesty in suburban areas (where most megachurches seem to flourish) that people would come. It seems to me that we have simplified the gospel to make it more marketable. We've gotten exactly what we wanted, but what did it cost us?

So instead of being a CEO, the pastor's job is first and foremost to create an environment of authentic growth and development. The pastor works the soil to nurture those in her care towards a more authentic and holistic life of faith. This means that the pastor's first task is to know the shape of the congregation, to know what needs to be communicated and to find any and every way possible to challenge the people. This means that a pastor's primary responsibility ought to be to any corporate times where the pastor can lead all people at once. Having spent time working in churches, it seems that this often becomes the pastor's last responsibility, squeezed in wherever there are a few spare minutes.

The reason I feel so passionately about a pastor's duty to a weekly gathering is partially because it is the first thing a church does. For example, my friend's church which is beginning today is only a once a week gathering right now. That's all that there is. For many church's you could take away everything, and they would still consider themselves a church. But if we were to forfeit our communal gatherings for worship of Jesus Christ, we have lost the essence of what it means to be a church.

So why are we putting this things on the backburners? Why are we allowing all the other tasks of the church (most of which ultimately don't matter) to dictate our time in such a way that our sermons are crap, our services are jumbled and we feel the need for small groups to supplement our pathetic corporate experiences with God (another rant for another time)?

On the opposite end of the spectrum, it must be remembered that the pastor's job is to work the soil, to allow life to grow. This is not an obligation to put on a flashy show. In fact, a performance would seem to only entertain rather than promote genuine growth.

Instead, the pastor ought to thoughtfully prepare a service that is coherent, that includes challenging questions and that utilizes a variety of elements to continually till the ground and sow the precious seed of the gospel. The produce of a pastor's work as an environmentalist will be evident, but immeasurable.

It has its place.

I read an article today about mega- versus missional churches. The basic agenda of the article was to defend the megachurch mentality without discrediting missional churches. It seemed a little targeted at missionals in a friendly way from the megachurches just to say, "We're not worthless, and neither are you." A sentiment I can resonate with, no doubt. I suppose what makes me sad is the over-arching assumption that a church's set of strategies for filling its building with people is what makes it a church. Having been away from school for over a year, and working full-time in a church, I've found myself with a great deal of questions, as I'm sure that you-who-read-this-blog have discovered. My attitude toward the institutional church has become increasingly cynical, and I've even spent a good deal of time wondering whether I wanted to be some sort of pastor or simply sell shoes for a living. These have been dark times (I apologize to any whose life's ambition is to sell shoes). But the truth is, the thought of ministry seems to be the one thing I can't not do. I'm fascinated and disgusted by it. I'm drawn to it without thinking, though pausing long enough to think causes me to hesitate. As jacked up as the church is oftentimes, I can't leave it behind. I see too much potential.

So, I think both kinds of churches have their place. I wish we could stop competing, stop bickering about whose right, stop comparing our tactics (I throw up a little every time I hear such words), stop striving to be successful and just be churches again. I wish a pastor's primary duty was to teach the way of Jesus and inspire people to live like that. I wish my job wasn't marketing and branding, accounting, and ultimate problem-fixer. I don't want to be the Christian that a congregation lives vicariously through. I don't want to be so "in charge" that it can't be my church, too. I know the pastor serves a unique role. I know it is not an easy calling, and that every job comes with parts that suck a little. But after a year and a half, it feels like my job pushes me in directions entirely contrary to my call.

I'm gonna try to start another blog series (something I suck at). This time, I want to spend some time expounding on what I feel like I am called to do, or rather, who I am called to be as a person in ministry. I see (so far) five roles that I desire to live into as a "pastor."

1. Enviromentalist
2. Conversationalist
3. Dreamer and Story-Teller
4. Philologist
5. Philanthropist

Stay tuned for more explanation of each (hopefully).

Christian community, conflict and the role of a "pastor"

Working in ministry isn't fun sometimes. It's potentially even less fun when we as people who are "professionals" have to deal with the conflicts between our "clientele." If one wanted to heighten the degree of difficulty in our developing hypothetical, one could place the "clientele" into a delicate demographic, say for instance: emerging, self-discovering, pomo college students. And then what's a "pastor" supposed to do?

The difficulty for that pastor might be complicated in times of crisis for several reasons. First, the difficulties of dealing with such a demographic are difficult enough. For one, the entire parochial system of pastor-lay relationships has to be re-evaluated as is. College students, and particularly those of a post-modern mindset, are offended by this dichotomy of "professional Christians" and everybody else. This is partially because many students who desire to remain faithful to their religious beliefs by a college age were raised in a congregation that really hammered the importance of faith into them. This generally aligns them on a more conservative scale. However, when they start to see the world, they must deal with the oh-so-stereotyped "liberal academia" of the university life. The conflict comes when they realize that they don't disagree with everything the "liberals" say, but what does this mean for their "conservative" faith? Students begin to feel betrayed by their pastors, as if their pastors were either liars or ignorant men (and yes, they are almost all men).

Perhaps most of these difficulties are related to the existential epistemology that most college students seem to live by: reality is defined by how it feels. Thankfully, most of these pomos have realized that good feelings are probably not the truest expressions of reality, as people sometimes just don't feel good. Instead, it is feeling at all, authentic emotion that determines reality. The more authentic a thing is, the more real it is in a cosmic sense.

A second and resultant problem is the problem of the church's current state of being. Unfortunately, institutions, "professional" pastors and the church just don't seem authentic anymore. Students don't trust these things because they don't "feel" right. The questions of how we who hope to genuinely connect with these students, or worse, maintain our own sense of identity while still maintaining faithfulness to the Church that Christ (inadvertently or not) established are questions that seem unanswerable. Systems of expectation from the church and disappointment from students who tend to be anti-institutional cause identity-crisis, confusion and a feeling of picking sides between the people who are meant to be served and loved by a pastor and the church that seems so often a corruption of what it ought to be. It seems to me, anyway, that these students have some good points about our churches.

And so what role would a pastor who stands in this great chasm play? For the students, she must be relevant and most importantly real. For the students' sake, she must not simply be a "professional." She must know them well, and love them well. At the same time, she must still be a guide. There may be times when the role of authority must be re-enforced for the safety of the community. This pastor must love authentically. Most importantly, this pastor must be human. The pastor must be free to make mistakes. Unfortunately, it often feels as if they are not allowed to do so. The role of pastor from both the church and the pomo student is one of the highest standard, which I think to an extent is good. However, it seems that the church often wants the pastor to be "good" so that the church will look better. The student wants anyone claiming the title of "pastor" to speak truthfully, unlike pastors they have heard before who disappointed them. Both sides seem to have unfair expectations of the person who hopes to serve both.

What doesn't seem like an entirely viable option from my perspective is a system of "boundaries" that simply dictate what a pastor should and should not do to avoid any difficulties or complications. I agree that we need to live in ways tht will maintain the safety of all involved, that is our call as Christians; to love one another. However, it's just over-simplifying things to boil it down to rules of conduct. If a pastor is to truly be a part of the Christian community, we need freedom, mutual love and respect, and most importantly communication. Conflict will necessarily be a part of this whole process because relationships always have conflict. Tension is what allows us to grow. But what we lack is the ability to communicate. We all seem far to concerned with our own emotions and interests to share our thoughts and feelings without taking offense at those who disagree. If we hope to reconcile the church and the post-modern generations, both parties must first learn to have a Christian conversation, dealing with our conflict and clinging for dear life to the things that define us as Christ-followers: compassion, grace, patience, selflessness, honesty and a devotion to each other, to the Church and to Jesus Christ.

Summer Time, a Series of Posts and Soteriological Epistemology

Hello my few and faithful friends,

It has been a long time since I've posted, and I feel I ought to apologize for the long lull in conversation. I fully intend to pick up my conversation on the ecclesial role of women with at least one more post, but I have some more pressing thoughts on my mind at the moment.

At one point in my recent life, as I had spent 4 years in a fairly intense undergrad program studied biblical hermeneutics, theology and the distant fringes of philosophy, I thought I was beginning to see the world through the rose-tinted lenses of my own "enlightenment." I thought I had an adequate working vocabulary on theological issues, and a base knowledge of philosophical terms. After all, my most recent philosophy professor sometimes taught from the full lotus position. It doesn't get more stereotypically philosophical than that!

But this summer has challenged my idea of one topic in particular: epistemology. Epistemology is technically the philosophical pursuit of the complex issue of knowledge. By its very nature, it is a very complicated branch of philosophical study, since it is metaphysical. The other clump that muddies the water of epistemology is that it is an intricate study of knowledge itself, and therefore how can you ever know that you're anywhere close? 

This issue is particularly mind-numbing to me in the area of theology, and specifically soteriology (the doctrines of salvation). What is the epistemology of salvation? How do we know the truth of Christ's gospel? These are not questions that I mean to ask in a potentially universalist or non-exclusive way. I'm not implying that because the knowledge of salvation is so broad that there are any other ways than Christ, but instead, how do we come to experience that knowledge? The question is really one centered on a couple of huge assumptions that developed in post-Enlightenment philosophy.

After the Rational Revolution known as the Enlightenment, reason was elevated onto the altar of god-hood. The basis of reality became the knowledge that was acquired through intellectual pursuits. As this emphasis on logic fully consumed itself in an individualistic focus, questions of life in community began to be asked. Thinkers such as John Locke, Immanuel Kant and even Rene Descartes all began to assume that if reason was foundational for each individual, then its conclusions could be imposed on all mankind. Therefore, there must be a logical standard of interpersonal relationships and ethics. If a truly "enlightened" individual could figure out the moral codes appropriate to such a person, than those could be determined on a corporate and legislative level.

And thus began the myth of a Christian nation. It was assumed that Christianity, the religion of the majority of the Enlightened, was the only language that was truly logical. After all, these Enlightenment thinkers themselves were all Christians, and they were bloody brilliant. Ethics and religion became common sense and could be imposed on national levels without compromising the freedom of religion.

At this point, modern philosopher, political commentator, theologian and ring-leader of the elsewhere described Don of the Hauerwasian Mafia, Stanley Hauerwas became a popular voice in the Academic Christendom (of Post-Christendom) of America. Hauerwas, following the lead of Alistair Mcintyre, claimed that such thinking had led to the "privatization" and therefore the utter degradation of distinctively Christian faith. The gospel of Christ lost its meaning when it became simply a logical code of ethics. This is partially because the gospel, for the most part, is not rational. It asks its followers to turn the other cheek, to forgive, to love and to serve others with the tiniest regard for oneself.

This very old debate leaves me wondering about soteriological epistemology. When we hear the gospel, how do we know that it represents the God who is Truth? Is it rational? Is it logical? Is it intuitive? 

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion in days (weeks, months, years) to come.

The Role of Women, Part II

This post is picking up my response to this article.

The next section of the author’s article raises the question of married women being ordained. Honestly, the argument he makes is muddled and confusing, so I will simply try to deal with the texts that he cites.

He begins with Ephesians 5, again quoting only a small portion of a greater argument. The over-arching theme of Ephesians is that the Gentile readers must stop living like the pagans and must begin to walk into a new and “more Jewish” kind of faith. The Gentiles, who were formerly considered as outsiders, we “brought near” and made insiders through Christ (ch. 2). Paul stands on their behalf to offer them acceptance into this new community of faith (ch. 3), but they must be diligent to preserve its unity (ch. 4). In their new lives, they must be sure to imitate God, to avoid their former ways and to practice submission in every respect. For Paul, this starts in the smallest unit, the family. In essence, Paul is demanding that this take place in every place in their lives, especially with those they spend the most time with. And Paul describes the family in the terms that all people of that culture would have been familiar with. But simply because Paul uses the normal family structure does not mean it is the only appropriate family structure. More than that, we ought to operate in our own family structures as they are in a way in which submission is lived out in every relationship. Too often this passage is quoted as a paradigm for familial normalcy, and neglected as instruction to submit to all people as a regular practice of Christian living.

The next example is from 1 Timothy 3. Again, one faces the difficulty of language and cultural understandings that were common to Paul, but are not authoritative simply on the basis of inference. The author of 1 Timothy describes a worthy leader as a “husband of one wife.” Rather than understanding that the elder ought to be someone faithful and responsible, the author of this article declares that it must necessarily be a man.

The problem with the article’s discussion of both of these passages is that it breezes by Paul’s actual instruction and dwells on the aspects of lesser importance. Rather than understanding the teaching to be driven at the heart of Christianity in a person’s humility and faithfulness, the gender is over-emphasized leaving the real meat of the letters undigested. The author takes the passages so literally that he actually misses the actual instruction!

The next section of the article covers the appropriate nature of women speaking in church gatherings. Here the article leaps clearly over the most obvious explanation, which it had discredited early on (for almost no good reason). In a society where women sat on a lower social rung of the social ladder and the unity of the church was to be diligently kept, of course women would not be allowed to instruct men. It would have defeated the purpose of maintaining unity. Men would have been offended and put off. What I wonder most is why the author of 1 Timothy, especially if it was Paul, needed to include this instruction. Timothy was very close to Paul, knowing his heart and his ministry. Shouldn’t Timothy have known the patriarchal structure that Paul always seemed to abide by? Or perhaps Paul’s message included in it some sort of teaching that seemed to make men and women equals, and thus the confusion about their role in the church emerged. It seems to me that the most obvious answer is that the author was dealing with a cultural issue that arose initially because of the equalizing power of the gospel.


In case you missed the first post, check it here:
The Role of Women, Part I

Missional?

Here's some thoughts I picked up from Andrew Jones:

I love the word missional but it still has some problems:
1. It is often dumbed down by people who confuse it with "evangelistic" or "mission-minded"
2. It has often been purged by some evangelicals of its connections to the global mission movement (read 'Ecumenical') and given a newer and more acceptable face.
3. It has sometimes been co-opted by aggressive and competitive white males to drive resources to the programs that beef up their own churches.
4. It suffers from a compulsive activism, as if God was a workaholic who constantly drives on his team and never rests from his labours.
5. It lacks an immediate connection with worship which might be the flip side and a necessary balance.

What do you think?

The Role of Women? Part I

Recently, I've been asked in several different arenas what my view of the role of women is. So, I've decided to blog it in response to an article that was sent to me. The article is located here. This response started as part of a one-on-one conversation, so I hope it makes sense in a blog setting. Well, here goes.

The author of this article comes out with his guns a-blazin’ against the claims that these issues are cultural instead of hermeneutical. I appreciate his (I’m assuming it is a he, as I am a he who was “instructed” and the author being a she would be rather ironic) desire to understand the Word of God and deal with it correctly. But to deny the issue at the outset as not cultural demonstrates a poor understanding of reading any historical text. The truth of the matter is this: all of the Bible is cultural, and therefore must be read with these cultural realities in mind. This doesn’t mean that there are not certain realities that we can and should learn and apply in our own setting. Instead, it just means that we need to be fully aware of that culture.

I’ve noticed that historical readings from both ends of any spectrum often suffer from the same difficulty. These historical texts are read backwards and in hindsight from where we currently stand. “Conservatives” hope to “conserve” the literal interpretation, making sure to apply what they read to be truths without considering the cultural differences and changes of the past two millennia. “Liberals” try to “liberate” archaic theology into more modern terms, basing their faith first and foremost on a scientific, Enlightenment-based rational. Either reading focuses its energy on where we are now, how we ought to live or what we know is or is not possible. We should, instead, struggle to put ourselves into the very midst of the author’s mindset so that we can fully understand what they were communicating and what was considered to be true in their society primarily. The difficult task before us then is to “translate” those principles into a world that is drastically different.

In the ancient Mediterranean world, women were necessarily considered as secondary, or to use a much more modern and theological term, “complimentary.” This is the world that Paul lived in. For us to read his words and to consider that his advice concerning the role of women was cross-cultural is to ignore the context of his writings. I don’t mean to imply that his letters don’t have implications for us now, but simply to say that we cannot deny the culture of advice or teachings that we consider “cross-cultural.”

So how were women treated in Paul’s world? As is obvious from Paul’s letters, they weren’t allowed to enter worship without their heads covered. They weren’t allowed to teach or have authority over men. They weren’t allowed to speak at all in public, unless another spoke to them. In fact, a man could insult his peers by speaking to that man’s wife, implying or leading to some form of inappropriate behavior. In marriage, women were “purchased” at a price and treated basically as property. They had virtually no rights of their own. All of their worth was included in the worth of their husbands or fathers. This is most clearly demonstrated in the Old Testament laws that operate from a male perspective. For example, Deuteronomy 24.1 makes it clear that a man can divorce his wife for any “indecency” he finds in her. Historically, it has been shown that men would divorce a woman based on her cooking, or her age or any other number of reasons that the man deemed “indecent.” Women, however, were given no such opportunities.

Their intrinsic connection to the men in their lives is based on a system of honor and shame. The social world of Paul’s day boiled down to a competitive system that reflected a man’s worth. In this system, women were essentially pawns used to affect a man, the ultimate shame being to rape another man’s wife and thus violate his most “prized possession.”

In the article you sent me, the author references 1 Corinthians 11. Obviously, for someone arguing towards a view of equality, verse three is going to be the most difficult. However, I find it interesting that the author of this article simply ignores the rest of the passage, taking the social order out of its context and hoping it will stand. As a hermeneutical principle, that is simply never appropriate, as it opens the door to any interpretation possible.

In the context, Paul is arguing for a church body that lives along the “path of least resistance.” He encourages the church to “not seek [its] own” (10.24). Even pointing out that “all things are lawful” (10.23) After the discussion on gender roles, Paul points out that the church ought to strive to be without division (11.16-19). In the context, it seems that the gender issues that Paul is dealing with are a problem by their very nature towards disruption. There are questions in the Corinthian church, and the question the people are asking is: Who has the authority to answer these questions? Paul encourages the church that “Christ is the head.” In Paul’s worldview, it has been the case that women were under men in terms of social order. But it seems that the social order is given here to convince the women at Corinth to live in accordance with the norms so that divisions will be avoided. Suffice it to say, it seems that the argument is less about social order and more about “praying and prophecy in Christian worship.”

In fact, even after he sets up this social order, he seems to almost take it back in verses 11-12. Or, one could easily see Paul’s earlier statements (vs. 2-10) as the nature of things in creation and his later statements as a new order in Christ (vs. 11-12).

Overall, I think 1 Corinthians 11 shows that there are blatant differences between men and women. Not only that, but Paul believes that no such distinction should be neglected or denied; it is only natural. This much is obvious. What is not so obvious is that Paul necessarily believes that women are socially inferior, since he seems to have a view of patriarchy that puts men primarily in verse three, and a view of interdependence in verse 11. How can this contradiction be reconciled? If Paul is using every argument available in his repertoire to prove the point of the greater context: all Christians should humbly submit to one another and avoid division in the church. Paul’s context and his overarching work must both be considered. Here he hopes to maintain unity; in other passages, Paul talks “about women as his coworkers, as fellow servants of God, and possibly even as [apostles] (Rom. 16.7).” Moreover, we must consider Paul’s understanding of what it means to lead: to lead is to first and foremost serve without the hopes of exercising power or personal rights.

Works Cited:
Malina, Bruce. The New Testament World: Insights from Cultural Anthropology (Westminster John Knox Press, 2001)
Witherington, Ben. Conflict and Community in Corinth: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on 1 and 2 Corinthians. (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1995)

From Sally

Speak

A reflection on God's silence
By the Rev. Harold J. Recinos

I sit and hear
about the man
from Guatemala

shot last week
by cops who never
sob about wrong

doing. I see
bony children in
unlit apartments

neglected, abused,
desperately crying
in beaten mothers’

arms. I hear people
talk about martyrs, agony
without end, the death

of the world, the vain
cries everywhere, the
churches unable to see

and hear beyond their
sullen Sabbath. I
dwell on the silence

of God.

A Guest Post

This is a guest post from Ian Scott Paterson. Check his blog.

The power of words has, for a long time, fascinated me. Every deed since the birth of history has been prefaced by words. God spoke and life came into existence. A persuasion ushered Man to his fall. Words have initiated and ended war. They have inspired and inverted nations. They stand alone as a dominant power in the universe. We writers are responsible for wielding this formidable ability and using it, for good or ill, to change the world. Through words alone we can divulge what rests inside mankind. A soft whisper in the ear of a sleeping giant can awaken him to uproot the weeds and reveal the beauty resting on the forest floor.

I first began writing to foster myself to greatness.  I fantasized day and night of immortality. I would stand beaming in my dreams, to the left of me a rapturous C. S. Lewis and to my right an elated John Steinbeck. I would watch the world ahead of me and see the transformation I would bring. And best of all, I would be celebrated for it. The great Ian Scott Paterson. Standing now in reality, my pompousness sickens me.

As writers, we inevitably immerse ourselves in story. My favorites are dark epics with one concrete, perfect hero who realizes that in the end, he must sacrifice himself in humility to save those who could in no other way save themselves. Wading around in those stories, I felt great disdain for the Villain. He is the same as the Hero in every way; only his desire is to use his greatness to advocate his own power and left the less fortunate to die by their own, ignorant hands.

When I put myself into these stories, however, I find I’m not wearing Hero’s shoes. I’m atop a dark mountain, looking down at a world fighting in the chaos I created, laughing maniacally. I was the Villain. All irony intended, my soap box was desecrated by words in stories.

I realized, and am still realizing, the mindset of a hero. He does not care about greatness. He cares about the people his greatness can affect. The greatest thing words ever taught me was that you can’t care about becoming great. No one who was ever great for anything good did it for personal glory. True, lasting change happens not when someone wants to be remembered for changing something, but when they see the change that needs to happen and will stop at nothing until it’s done.

We writers are Atlas. The world is poised on our shoulders, spinning round and round. The slightest shrug can shake nations, we need only to look up and decide which way to lean.

E/emerg/ent/ing: Thoughts on Labels

There has been a huge amount of discussion throughout the blogosphere about the differences between Emergent, emergent, emerging and all other related terms. This is probably because all those who might be described by any of the above terms are thoroughly post-modern in their disposition, and as such, detest being defined and labeled. I've waded through blogpost after blogpost warning about the dangers and differences associated with each label, hoping to rise above it all. And I'm not totally opposed to a basic distrust of labels, necessarily. But from what I've seen, the pomo distrust is occasionally borderline paranoia. There is such a fear of institution and reductionistic lumping into pre-defined categories that tends to make us fearful of being associated with ideas, individuals or organizations that we'd rather not be associated with anyone.

And I won't deny that our language is important. The terms we use articulate the faith and philosophy that we hold. And yet, we are often perhaps too insistent on our terms, particularly in this recent E/emerg/ent/ing debate. Some prefer to avoid the conversation altogether and allow the cards to fall where they may (HT: Kevin Corcoran). Others want to decide between the two and pick the most inclusive (HT: Nick Fiedler). Some might say that association with the terms themselves is not bad, but over-defining is a waste of time (HT: Tony Jones). 

It goes without saying that Emergent is a term that describes an institution, but the terms emergent and emerging are not necessarily. Some have argued that since orally, Emergent and emergent are indistinguishable, it might be wise to disregard the term itself, and stick strictly with emerging.

But for me, the problem with all this defining and line-drawing is that it necessarily adds a flavor of organization and institution to a conversation that is innately anti-institutional. That's not to say that we don't operate in the midst of structures and sometimes even institutions that are the instruments and vehicles of our faith expressions. But these terms, for me, are expressions of my own faith. So, to answer the question of my own "association," I think of myself as a participant in the emergent conversation of Christians hoping to live faithfully in post-modernity. My faith is emerging from the work of God in the midst of my community and context. These words for me are not associations with some formal organization, but are rather adequate terms for my own experience of faith. And I use these terms because they do connect me with other Christians with similar struggles and hopes. And by throwing around the language of emergence and assuming that it necessarily lumps us into a labeled category, the issue is being forced. If emerg/ent/ing do truly indicate loyalty, then we must be loyal to something.

If only we could simply speak and so be. If only I could describe my faith without being lumped into an institution that doesn't really exist. If only we could enjoy our conversations without these silly dissections.

A Christianity Worth Believing, Pt. II

Well, here we are. A post titled part 2.

Pagitt's views on Scripture are not the only potentially controversial expressions in this book. His views on the nature and essence of man are, to put it lightly, not Reformed by any means. In fact, he so adamantly opposes the concept of total depravity with a beautifully tragic story about the local target of criticism on everyone favorite social microcosm: the school bus. The story of the one unfortunate girl picked to be continually ridiculed and permanently marked as "sucking." When thinking back on this story, Pagitt compares the traditional doctrine of total depravity to this mindset, fearing that far too often the church has held this same bully perspective. In an attempt to maintain an absolute need for God's grace, we have deemed the nature of man as utterly inferior or corrupted in some way that claims man is, in Reformed traditions, incapable of good. 

Pagitt makes it clear that man is obviously in need of some sort of redemption, but the essence of the message is that God still calls men and women to participate in God's Good Dreams for the world. When Adam and Eve fell in the biblical narrative, they faced consequences, but they were still expected to maintain their roles of stewardship and co-regency over the created order. God is not "up and away," but "down and in," interested in humanity. God is passionately concerned for people to restore them to their original intent and relationship.

The truth is, in Pagitt's perspective, that God does not view people as if they suddenly went from "good" to total suckage. As the fruit fell off the branches of the forbidden tree, mankind's entire nature and worth did not fall with it. Perhaps it put us in a unique position in need of forgiveness, but it did not ruin the Image that God ingrained into us.

What do you think? What affects did the fall of Adam and Eve have on the essence of human nature? What are the lasting affects of Original Sin? Are its affects or its very rebellious tendency necessarily transmitted through procreation or as some sort of inheritance? What condition are we in, and what are the implications for our doctrines of evangelism or missiology, soteriology and orthodoxy?

A Christianity Worth Believing, I

I suppose I must be becoming a regular, old blogger. Weird. That kinda makes me not like myself.

I'm currently reading through the free e-copy of Doug Pagitt's new book A Christianity Worth Believing that was so graciously sent to me by Ian a few weeks back. First and foremost, I'd like to throw out a mad shout-out to Doug (who I know doesn't read this blog) for sending us this advanced copy.

Many people have called Doug Pagitt many things. I've heard him called a heretic, a liar and a pagan (all of those by Mark Driscoll in one sitting). But in my limited time with him, and in all my readings of his books, I have yet to find one claim that is definitively "heretical" or "pagan." This new book is no exception. I could blog about the whole book in one sitting, but I think I will take the lead of the great bloggers in this world and only cover one chapter at a time. (You ought to be warned that I may only ever write about one chapter.)

The sixth chapter deals mostly with Pagitt's opinions of the Bible. In his experience, the Bible has been misused in three incredibly offensive ways.

1. It has been used as a weapon
2. It has been used as an encyclopedia
3. It has been used as a long list of isolated verses

Far too often, the Bible is used in all three of these ways simultaneously. We wield like a heavy reference that dictates what life should look like in a series of pithy statements and commandments with absolutely no bearing on one another. For those of us raised underneath it, we often define our entire worldview by the accuracy of this book's moral code, and rather than looking at the world around us, we simply assert the truth we thoughtlessly find in Scripture. More often than not, the book we cling to for the story of Jesus, the story of a man who loved "sinners and tax-collectors" becomes the justification for division and judgment. We have forgotten the context of Jesus' world, of our world and of the words themselves.

To live in a truly biblical mindset is to enter into a conversation with the Bible. This is not to say that we ought to change what it says, or even ignore it. But rather, we ought to know who we are and in what context. Sometimes the Bible will say things that we don't want to hear. It will challenge us to grow and to live in ways that we aren't comfortable with, but shouldn't we think about these things? Shouldn't we struggle with them so that our experience with the Bible leads us to authentic faith rather than a desire to be the "most right"? 

Pagitt has an obvious distaste for Christians who cling to a doctrine of "inerrancy" to prove their own position or to validate their own prejudices. He says, "I think there are people who argue for an  “ inerrant ”  authoritative understanding of the Bible to support their prejudiced feelings about homosexuals." (p. 63) This perspective, while I'm not sure is universally true, is certainly somewhat indicting, particularly if there is truth behind it.

There is an obvious passion and reverence for the Word of God in Pagitt's writing. Maybe he is slightly "unorthodox" (that's a pun, not a judgment statement) in his vantage point, but the point in the chapter shines through: We, as the people of God, ought not to isolate portions of the Bible for the sake of our egos. But instead, we enter the biblical narrative through study and thoughtfulness in ways that don't simply make us right, but also make us Christ-like and holy.

A Musical Review

I suppose I should leave the reviews to people with a plethora of readers, as their input and endorsements actually make a lick of difference in the world, but I earnestly believe that even my few measly (in number, not in character) readers ought to be listening to August, Inland.

August, Inland is a band of guys who I went to college with (save one who was still in high school in the thriving metropolis of Bolivar). They are Andrew Reeves, lyricist, lead singer, guitar player, philosopher and independent producer extraordinaire. On electric guitar is Joe Still, a beautiful lyricist in his own right, and a folk singer à la Bob Dylan when he's not backing Reeves up. The bassist is Dustin Gamble, an incredibly versatile musician, who when not with August, Inland has been known to sing some of the most meaningful folk ballads since the late, great Elliot Smith.

But in this instance, Reeves' lyrics are show-cased, and they don't disappoint. It seems to me that Reeves' songs embody the typical struggle of an emerging generation in the midst of a complicated society (socially, politically and religiously) that fails to meaningfully address the issues that generation deems truly important. 

My personal favorite song is "i dream of money in my sleep." I'll let the lyrics speak for themselves:

I dream of money in my sleep.

My financial security is more like idolatry,

the demon laying next to me.

And I toss in anger all night

at the government's decision to fight.

When the causalities of war are the poor lying dead in our streets.

And I guess that I'm just scared of what I can't see.

And if all of these things that have such control over me.

It all seems so confusing.

Well, my father, he went down to Africa

and saw a girl no older than my sister was

just playin' in the dirt

oblivous to the pain around her

And I have found in that little girl a song

about the earth and those that I love.

I guess we're all just spinning,

waiting for the sun to destroy us.

So I follow the road down to the coast.

And I try to clear my head in Mexico,

but this heat and the storms and the salt only makes me hurt for her.

So I come back to my landlocked island.

Yeah, the cold dead core of the earth.

Missouri holds me captive,

like a slave who takes his chains to freedom.

And I guess I've always been scared

of running away from you.

And ironically enough, that's what I always seem to do.

and I'm sorry, baby, I'm just a little confused.

Cuz I'm not too far from the businessman

or those kids that I see on those commercials

We're all three looking for some meaning

or chasing some dream for truth.

So I dream of money in my sleep.

And I fight for my rights in those dreams.

Cuz I deserve a tax return,

and reserve the right to say whatever I please,

and there's no need to preach at me.

It's all very simple Darwinian Theology,

no room for equality.

Hey, I'm just trying to make a living here.

Oh well.

We can all get saved by democracy.

Check out August, Inland at VIRB or their myspace. You won't regret it. I promise.

A Eunuch for Christ...?

It's always good to re-connect with people from the places we've been. It's a fresh reminder of who we are and how we got to the place we find ourselves in today. These encounters give us a chance to evaluate ourselves in the here and now, asking questions about the silly things we believed and did back then compared to the hopefully less silly things we believe and do now.

This week, my past has been shoved in my face in two completely different ways. The first way caught me off guard completely. I logged into my Facebook, like I do countless times every other day, and I saw a group invitation. This is slightly more rare, as I have rejected the past 837 group invites that have been sent to me, and people seemed to be getting the message pretty clearly. Well, this invite was different to say the least. Apparently, my high school class has decided that a five year reunion would be in order. Most of us think this will be a good idea, as half of us went to OTC, MSU or Drury and never left Springfield, and the other half hope to show the rest how far we've gone. So, the plans went down. The interesting thing about all of this is that Facebook wasn't around when we were in high school (waaaay back in the day, I know), so most of my current "friends" are from my college years or beyond (the beyond symbolizing one whole, long, brutally agonizing year). So, every time I've logged in since this fateful Facebook event, I've been gaining a gaggle of new friends who are really old friends.

All of this got me thinking about high school. High school was, in hindsight, not so bad. At the time, it seemed like Hell had opened up beneath my feet and then had rejected me for wearing the wrong jeans. In fact, the problem with high school was not the wrong jeans or even the gaping hole to the Underworld. In truth, it was me. I was (WARNING to my "evangelical" readers [like I have readers. Thanks, Mom]) a dick (disclaimer: there simply aren't any more accurate terms in the English language; I sincerely apologize). I was a narrow-minded, egocentric, misogynistic, legalistic, arrogant and pompous, pretentious bastard (Whoops, guess I did find another accurate description). I had 20 pounds of self-righteous shit in a 10 pound manure sack. And I wondered how these people who had known such a Dizzle Bizzle would see me now. And then I wondered if I was really any different.

The second reminder was expected, but my reactions were not. Tonight, a former prof of mine from good ol' Southwest Baptist Univ came and spoke at the Well. He talked about Matthew 19, a passage about marriage, divorce and the third option of castration. Then we moved on to Paul's advice to the Corinthian church about marriage in 1 Cor. 7 (a passage I am contemplating having read at my wedding, rather than the stereotypical chapter 13). This prof (who I suspect might read this blog, seeing as how he knows I read his and to not reciprocate at least occasionally might be considered rude in some corners of the blogosphere) used these two passages and the living illustration of Shane Claiborne to talk about how often we hold back on our pursuit of Christ. We often allow our devotion to be divided by the necessary attention a spouse requires, or by the possibility of promotion or wealth and by a whole slew of other things. So far, I followed. But then we stepped into some uneasy ground for me.

The challenge was that the students (and presumably all people within earshot) ought to focus solely on their devotion to the Lord. They shouldn't pursue a mate, as Paul warns, but they should pursue Christ. The question was then, "For how long do we seek God before we are allowed to find our One and Only True Love?!" And this man's answer is what shocked me. He said that we should never seek a spouse. I find that such an argument could be drawn from Paul's letter, but there were more words following the claim from this man's lips. He reasoned that if God intended for us to have a spouse, God would bring us a spouse. And she would better than the one we could find on our own. It was as I heard the "Amen" from the guy next to me (who is, ironically, chronically committed to one woman or another), that I realized how much I have changed.

When I was in high school, I took a vow not to date until I was sixteen, a vow that I gracelessly broke. But even despite my weakness, I still believed that God had one girl out there for me, and maybe this girl was it. Maybe that's why I had fallen from the grace of faithful adherence to my own word. Well, when that relationship ended rather brutally, I tried another and another, always deep in prayer, looking for the one who God had to compliment my weaknesses and fit together with me like some pair of cheesy half-heart necklaces.

But as I think back on who I was then and begin to see some of who I am now, I realize that such a perspective, though I'm willing to admit it might be right, scares me because it is incredibly self-centered. When my former professor encouraged the students to never seek a partner, and wait for the Lord to bring them one, I began to shift in my seat like a man about to fart in court. It made me incredibly uncomfortable. And as the "amen's" echoed of the high ceilings in that chapel, I wondered what a faithful man who truly waited for a spouse would look like. If I were that man, and such a woman did come along, I think I would be inclined not to genuinely care for her. I wonder if such an attitude is almost a cop-out, putting the beauty and wonder of that woman as secondary and her place as a reward for my patient endurance as the primary. I also feel that if a woman were truly dropped on my lap, I would have no realistic expectation of how much time and work it would require.

I don't intend to argue with Scripture, as I tend to think it's right. But at the same time, I think Paul does clearly point out that marriage as an institution that takes time and energy is a somewhat timeless truth. It always has, and it always will. I fear that teaching young people to wait for a lifelong mate to be dropped on our laps is like handing a loaded Glock 9mm to a kid who plays too much Halo.

And I don't wonder if Paul's perspective on marriage wasn't based on his belief that "the times [were] shortened." The Parousia of Christ was not far off, and what time did we have to waste with the concerns of this world? Money, relationships and countless other distractions would soon be entirely meaningless because the coming Christ would soon fully bring a new kingdom. And maybe the question of marriage and spouse-seeking has some new considerations these days, not that Paul's advice was bad or is somehow now irrelevant. But instead, maybe we've been listening too intently for too long and have begun to live in ways that are not entirely sensitive to reality. Maybe we have read Paul point blank, taking him so literally as faithful adherents to Scripture that our application of his words might cause more harm than good.

When I think about who I was in high school, who these new old Facebook friends remember me as, I think that I was exactly that kind of person. I was so sold on religion as a magic remedy to a sin problem that I built a sturdy fence with barbed wire and electrical currents to keep myself isolated from distractions and devoted solely to the Lord. Unfortunately, I might have left great war-torn patches of dead, exposed earth and bleeding corpses in my wake of insincerity and judgment.

Maybe I oughta consider this eunuch thing...

Samson and the Pirate Monks

I don't typically write book reviews via the blogosphere, but I wanted to pass along the word about this particular book. It is not the most theologically profound work, nor is it the most inspiring self-help book. Instead, it's just a story.

It's the story of Nate Larkin, a Princeton seminarian and former pastor who struggled with sexual addiction for years. It is the story of his earnest desire to overcome the things that controlled him. Larkin's story, like most of our own dealings with sin, started with private prayer and personal piety. Ultimately though, like most of our dealings with sin, Larkin's personal and private attempts left him farther in the pit of despair. As time went on, Larkin's struggles and his secretive attempts to overcome them left a path of immense destruction in its wake. His marriage in shambles, his career a joke and his self-identity nearly to schizophrenic levels from years of lying, Larkin finally sought encouragement through a support group. Throughout his experiences with various support groups, Larkin and a few friends eventually decided to start a new society of friends who could honestly discuss their faults and confess their weaknesses. Named after the famous macho man of the OT who struggled and died entirely alone, the group is an attempt to rescue men from the isolation that associates shameful weaknesses.

I read this book because a chapter of the Samson Society is starting here in Warrensburg tomorrow. I'd recommend this book to any men who feel entirely alone, entirely pathetic and entirely desperate for something new. But this book is just a book. I hope that you might read it and walk away from it with the resolve to find a place of friendship and camaraderie to encourage you and challenge you to rise above your struggles in grace.

Goony Pigs

I openly confess my failure to keep my poor family adequately updated on the comings and goings of my everyday life. I'm just not used to actually updating a blog for any greater purpose. So, dear Otto and Betty: I'm sorry.

Now that I got that off my chest, I'd like to take a minute to belatedly introduce our newest friends, Obi and Darbi, our beloved guinea pigs.

This is Obi. She has looooong hair, and in this particular picture, it is very spiky because Darbi (the white one) ate a bunch of it.

These are the girls in the "natural habitat." However, after the hair eating incident, we had to put them in separate cages.

Here's a real flattering picture of Jean and Darbi.

Bath time! 

Here's Darbi immediately after a bath. Look how white she is!

Bible commentators are typically boring.

Best comment I've ever read in a commentary:

"After considerable reflection I have concluded that Martin is serious. Incorrect, but serious."

Minneapolis Pt. 2

When I last left you, we had discussed my week through Wednesday. Now it is Saturday, and you deserve the rest of the story.

On Thursday, we decided it would be best to leave the Twin Cities. But before we took off, it was time for one more emergent excursion. We headed down to Solomon's Porch for a "cohort." These are the daily breaths of the whole emergent movement. It's basically a semi-informal gathering of "friends of emergent" to discuss life and faith. This particular week, Mark Scandrette, author of Soul Grafitti was in town from San Fran. Mark is the founder of a community known as Seven. Mark was introduced as the creator of a community that was one splash SoCal, one splash emergent, one splash neo-monastic. He was also called the "Shane Claiborne of San Francisco." He was there promoting his book and sharing what was going on with Seven. He shared some interesting ideas about orthodoxy and orthopraxy. For Mark, there is an imposed distinction between the two, when really orthopraxy is an expression of an orthodox faith. I enjoyed entering this conversation. It tied in very well with our discussion of James here in Warrensburg.

Spending time in the midst of emergent, I found it interesting how little I tended to disagree. I had feared that "heresy" might run rampant in these men's lives. After all, the "orthodox," "authoritative" and "biblically-based" branches of Christianity tend to condemn these guys straight to hell. It was shocking how, though I'm sure there were aspects of their faith I disagree with, their beliefs (and by their own understandings)and their entire lives were defined by their faith in Christ and their hope in the coming of the Kingdom, the "good dreams of the Creator." These men lived in ways that were undeniably marked by a faith in Jesus and a genuine love for all people.

In fact, the only "heretical" thing I heard wasn't even from these men. At the cohort, one guy suggested that Jesus and Buddha are both ways to the same place. I'm not entirely sure whether some of the emergents agreed or disagreed with this guy's logic, but it did seem to me like the air was sucked out of the room. No one attacked the man for saying so, and no one blatantly agreed. While this might signal something bad about emergent as a movement, I think it also signified a refusal to dictate and debate what is "right" and the "only appropriate" way to believe in God. Some might say that this is a weakness of the movement, to not stand up for orthodoxy, and maybe it is. But I know I could stand to learn something about tolerance from these men.

After the cohort, we headed back for Kansas City. We made it back safely after about 7 hours. We stayed the night with Hilary's folks, and on Saturday, I got my taxes filed. Then, on our way back to the 'Burg, we picked up the guinea pigs. It was wonderful to have them back, and Stephanie did a fantastic job of taking care of them. However, she told us that Darbi was eating Obi's hair, and after referencing the book, we discovered that such behavior is very bad. It means they are too crowded and Darbi is essentially beating Obi into submission. So, tomorrow, we'll be getting another cage and unfortunately housing them separately from now on. Hilary was very sad to face these facts, but we just want healthy, happy goonies.

Today, we almost finished the guest list for the wedding. I'll be glad when all this planning stuff is over.  Good golly. It's booooring. But hey, it won't be any fun if nobody shows up. What are you gonna do, right?

Well, Hilary and I are watching Hannibal, so I better go. 

Peace.

For Family

As the two faithful readers of this blog may have noticed, I tend to only blog in intermittence. And then, as of late, I've only blogged about blogging. A slightly redundant and useless endeavor, I admit, but now I have discovered a greater reason to write.

My sister called the other night to ask a simple question about Hilary's birthday. She asked what we were up to, and was completely caught-off guard when I mentioned that we are currently hanging out in Minneapolis. To avoid any unpleasant surprises in the future, I hope to blog more often with the expressed purpose of keeping those who want to know any of the details of my life slightly more informed. I don't expect that category to actually include many people, but at least now when my mom complains I can pass the buck back on her for not checking the blog.

So, this week, Hilary, Ian and I have been hanging out in Minneapolis, Minnesota for spring break. Most people find it incredibly odd that we might come north for spring break when most people flee for the beaches. What can I say? We're freakin' weird.

Here's the back-drop. Last semester, we read a book called Church Re-Imagined by Doug Pagitt. It's the story of a church here in Minneapolis known as Solomon's Porch. It was a wonderful book, and it left us wishing we could visit it. Shortly after that, I heard about a book release and signing "party" for Tony Jones' new book The New Christians also in Minneapolis in the middle of our spring break week. At the same time, I found out that a friend from college got a job in Minneapolis as a designer for an ad firm. And then, there was nothing stopping us from coming at all.

We got here Sunday night and just hung around. It was refreshing to catch up with Casey (the friend) and tell stories about the good old days. On Monday, we went downtown and saw where Casey worked. We also ate at this really cool little Greek restaurant where we had cake. I say this, and it sounds mundane, but I ought to mention that the cake was free. This is a particularly big deal when we learned that the guys who run this place only give cake to people they like, similar to the "Soup Nazi" from Seinfeld. After Casey got off work, we hit up a grown up arcade, followed by a sweet pub called O'Donovan's.

Yesterday, we took the light rail down to the Mall of America. It was... big. We had Sbarro pizza for lunch; very enjoyable. Then we made a quick stop in the Apple Store, which proved to be a personal and financial struggle and an exercise in greedy desire.

Last night, we headed for the book signing in Edina. Being the definition of tourist, we got utterly lost and found it only by the grace of God. We picked up our books, got them signed and then ran into the aforementioned Doug Pagitt. After talking with him for a few minutes, he invited us out to dinner with some folks, including the other aforementioned Tony Jones. We got to sit and talk and laugh with some "respectable" people. What was most inspiring about it was how nice these guys were. They were absolutely the most wonderful and loving people. These two, in particular, are often at the center of controversy and often labeled "heretics," but it can't be said that they don't love like Jesus.

Today, we headed into St. Paul to check out the Common Goods Book Store, owned by one Garrison Keillor of NPR fame. Unfortunately, we didn't see Mr. Keillor himself, but Ian did buy an autographed copy of Pontoon, Keillor's latest Woebegone novel. Then we had lunch at a coffee shop right above it.

Overall, we've loved the Twin Cities. There have been so many awesome things to see, including Ian's favorite, the SkyWay, which is a series of walkways that have essentially been converted into a 2 - 3 mile mall stretching the length of downtown Minneapolis. It's been fun and relaxing.

Tomorrow, we're heading down to Solomon's Porch for a lunch gathering of Emergent that they call a "cohort." Then we'll be heading back on Friday. Then, to finish my taxes.

As the week goes on, I keep remembering this thing called my life. Growing up sucks.

What It Is to Blog

Truth be told, I am not much more than a kid playing make believe, and I'm playing with some pretty dangerous toys.

I like to pretend that I'm a real writer. Heck, we all must. That's why we blog. We want to be read and to feel somehow validated by the comments of our plethora of readers. In my own mind, the approval of readers proves that my opinions are not worthless.

The more time I spend roaming around the blogosphere, admiring the words and works of much more widely read writers than myself, the more reasons I can think of to not blog.

1. Blogging to Scratch an Itch
I'm sure that it is not entirely uncommon to want to be well-known, respected or even "famous." It gives me an "oh-so-special" feeling to know that someone might be reading my thoughts and appreciating them. But sometimes when I sit down to blog as a discipline to achieve greatness, I notice that I hate it. I've read more than a couple posts about blogging. One thing that always stuck with me was one writer's claims that an effective blog requires a write-often-about-everything mentality. As I think about how I really feel about the art and philosophy of writing, I can't help but believe that it should be something slightly more noble than writing for writing's sake.

2. Blogging to be Heard
I read a lot of blogs, a lot of which are written by some pretty well-respected scholars. Often, these people have incredible things to say. I read posts about biblical interpretation, philosophy, church leadership and congregational issues, politics, writing, pop culture and just about anything else I can find. Their voices challenge, inspire and educate. They deal with the issues in critical manners, reviewing written works, movies and even events with a delicate precision and excellence, generally speaking. When it comes time to put myself out there with my thoughts and opinions, I either feel that what I might say doesn't compare or would not be much more than an adding to the great "noise" of the blogosphere.

3. Blogging to be an Author
For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated with books. Probably because my mother was a librarian and didn't give us the option. Either way, I love to read and am excited by the prospect of writing. There are several that I have experienced in my very limited encounters with the land of Blog who have used their sites to accomplish such desires. I think of Tim Challies and his new book deal, for example. There are several reasons that I can't justify using a blog to accomplish my inkling towards authorship.

The first probably has something to do with my mother's imparted love of books. When I think about Twain, Hemingway, Eliot and the other classic authors I have grown to love, I can't help but feel that blogs are cheap imitations. I miss holding something. I miss crinkling the pages. I miss the new books smell. And no matter what I might learn from a blog, reading a book feels so much more productive. Reading books is always good. It seems that the addiction to the blogging world just promotes and endorses a continued dependence on technology over the real world.

The second is the availability of the blog. Anybody can get one. Writing is something that requires work. Before the blog, one had to be excellent to become a writer. Now, one must only sign up. The whole concept just seems to cheapen the whole affair. And not only are blogs incredibly easy to acquire, there is absolutely no accountability. Not only can anyone start a blog, they can say literally anything they want to.

Why would I blog?
This post is, of course, somewhat of a paradox. But despite all of these reasons not to blog, I have one great reason that I do. It allows me to sort out my thoughts. Try and try as I might, I can't seem to journal. I sympathize greatly with Donald Miller who compares it to "schizophrenia." And luckily for me, being young and undiscovered in the electronic world, this blog is virtually a journal. It is my hope, while I strive to keep my conscience clear that someone can be encouraged by these thoughts.