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.

Through the Mist

Yesterday was my future in-laws anniversary. In the spirit of celebration, we spent the day together shopping down at the Plaza, eating at the Cheesecake Factory and traipsing around in the surprisingly not-so-spacious four story Barnes and Noble. After all of that, and a brief stop by Quik Trip for Dwight's second favorite coffee, we decided to go and see a movie. Since we hadn't checked the time, our decision was based on what was playing next. Our options were Steven King's The Mist, or Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie. Now, normally a decision between Steven King and Jerry Seinfeld is a no-brainer, but The Mist started sooner and my future mother-in-law is a sucker for a crappy horror movie. And so it was.

This is by no means an attempt to review this movie, as it was everything I am sure you might think. Instead, I just wanted to point out a few little somethings I found interesting.

The premise of this movie, in a nutshell, is that the scientists at a particular army base opened a portal to an alternate dimension releasing an evil horde of giant, ugly bugs to wreak havoc in the midst of the accompanying mist. A small group of individuals from a rural community get trapped together in a grocery store and struggle to survive this invasion.

Inside this grocery store are about 30 boring people and 10 actual characters. There is a small group of individuals who appear sane and rational (though this myth is busted before its all said and done). And there are also the eccentric ones. Of course, as in all Steven King works, there is one crazy Christian with no basis in reality.

Through this particular character, it seems that King has a harsh view of faith to present. This supposedly Christian prophetess convinces the masses that these creatures are the judgment of God, and that he will only be satisfied with expiation. Because of this, the people begin to offer certain individuals as sacrifices to the beasts. The woman is so evil that I actually clapped when Ollie the cashier shot her (not a fact I'm particularly proud of). Her attitude and actions are a harsh critique of Christianity as a sensible system of beliefs.

But even more broadly, King seems to have something to say about religion as an expression of humanity. While discussing what to do about their psychotic spiritual leader, Ollie points out that whenever two or more people are put in one place they immediately choose sides and try to kill each other. This is why, Ollie observes, "we invented religion and politics."

Now, I'm not necessarily concerned with Steven King's theology or personal philosophy. Nor do I believe that his not-so-subtle commentaries are endangering the Christian community at large. I just find it odd that such explicit rejections of faith were entirely ignored while Pullman's Compass was the talk of the town. I suppose the reason for such distinction is the demographic at which these movies are aimed. And knowing this is precisely what concerned me.

It seems to me that some amongst us hold two basic beliefs. The first is that children are too impressionable to be exposed to faith systems varying from our own. There are some in the Christian community who cling to indoctrinating the children as long as what is being forced upon them is "Christian."

The second presupposition is that the "grown-ups" are impervious to all sorts of propaganda. Those over the age of 21 cannot be swayed by a clever presentation of some "truth" that is anti-religious, apparently.

What this says to me is that we either under-estimate a child's ability to think, or we greatly over-estimate an adult's. We fear that the children will believe almost anything that they ever hear, particularly if it's not the gospel. But we, as adults, have become either so arrogant or so stubborn that we have nothing to fear from the media's pathetic attempts to change us.

But I'll tell you what I do know, whether its Steven King or Philip Pullman, the anti-religious in the literary world, for all their agendas and maybe because of them, just cannot seem to make a decent transition to the silver screen.

Witherington's Thoughts on Denver

Check out Witherington's post concerning the tragedies in Colorado:
Deck the Malls with Guns and the Gory

A Link, Early on an Icy Monday Morning

This is a quick reminder for those who are in need:
The Forces that Drive us

Blogged with Flock

Hold on to your lug nuts, it's tiiiiiime for an overhaul.

That's from the movie the mask. Mhmm.

Becoming a typical blogger

The trend in modern blogging seems to be a diligent effort to post a bunch of links to a bunch of stories that prove the blogger's sick addiction to the internet. So, here goes.

Chocolate is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. See?

Go green at home. Recycle.

The only problem with the new Zune is its dependency on such a crappy operating system. Other than that, it rules.

The writers' strike is going to seriously affect my springtime. Count it down.

The Hives. Black and White.

Wow. I just don't feel insensitive enough to comment.

Um... ok...?


Look for a link to Ian's post about "Erotica" soon.

Blogged with Flock

Over-Confidence.

Here's what I'm going to ask you to do. First, I'm going to ask you to watch this video. Then, I'm going to ask you to read my incredible insights which will sway your opinions. Finally, I'm going to ask you to leave comments telling me how right I am. Easy enough?

When I first watched this little video, I was simultaneously impressed and disgusted. It's pretty obvious that this man knows at least something about the Bible and history. He could quote Scripture, and he certainly did a good job of "shutting the mouths of the heretics."

What bothered me was the stench of his over-powering spiritual cologne. Granted, I believe that Joseph Smith is the cheapest of imitations when compared to Jesus. But this man's arrogance was so far beyond blatant. It was more forceful and rude than any Mormon mission I've ever experienced. His confidence in the words of Christ was well-grounded, to say the least. But his presentation was dismissive and pushy, particularly for a man claiming to "have a conversation." In this midst of his conversation, he flat-out said, "I don't need to listen to you." Way to be the shining example of what you proclaim.

And there is something almost disconcerting about what he quotes from Luke. Jesus said, "For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict." Does this passage apply in this man's situation? Is this an example of being given words to tear down an adversary? And what does this man's demeanor say about his affiliation with a gospel of radical love, even for one's enemies?

I suppose that my concern comes from experiential knowledge, which I admit is not the safest place to begin a theological observation. However, I have been in places and situations where I have been made to look the fool. Does this mean that my faith or salvation is insufficient because I wasn't "given words"?

Also, isn't it obvious that this man had spent some time studying this issues, preparing for this situation. If it was being video taped, it might seem to imply some prep time beforehand. And didn't Jesus say immediately before the verse quoted above, "But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves"?

I guess what made the most uncomfortable is the short explanation at the end. Here, a supposedly true witness of Jesus Christ, brushes off two utterly confused souls and scoffs as the go. Is it a missional participation in the spreading of the kingdom to prove people wrong and laugh as they retreat with their tails between their legs?

However, all complaints aside, I really do like his response to the Book of Mormon. Does the Bible really need the help?

The Writers Strike Back.

And so it has come to this.

In an era defined by our addiction to entertainment and the media, we are now subjected to the whims and wishes of those brilliant minds who dictate to us what is good, noble and true. The writers of Hollywood have decided that they simply do not receive enough of the "cheddar," as some refer to it, to continue doing their jobs. I wanted to take this opportunity to express my under-appreciated thoughts on such a matter, as I feel like the contents of this blog can and will make a difference.

What I find most striking about the entire issue is the unusual sense of entitlement these writers have. How is it that someone pursuing a career as a writer can honestly come to believe that they deserve large salaries? Better writers than those on Desperate Housewives have died penniless. And its not as if the projected income for the entire writing profession is by any means especially "optimistic." And so, I have to ask our dear friends, the writers, "What did you expect?"

And why punish the viewers? What have we done to deserve this? I understand the cruelty of the producers. They are addicted to their money and power like the main character's three episode story-arc addiction to drugs on a bad teen prime time soap. I am not at all convinced that these proud producers are not robbing you blind, but what happened to your good intentions? What about writing to be heard? Didn't you start out with a goal to entertain people? And yet, all of our romantic ideals have been tainted with the color green.

While I hesitate to say this, it's not as if we need TV writers anymore. The next generation spends more time in front of blogs than they do in front of televisions. There, in the safe haven of cyberspace, is an untouched multitude of writers who haven't yet sold out, not to mention all the fine entertainers of YouTube. And if you're mad about the insane amounts of media being plastered all over the internet, striking is not going to draw the viewers eyes away from our MacBooks and PC screens. You are forcing us into the arms of our forbidden lover.

Now, let's not forget the past. In 1988, we endured a similar strike that lasted 22 weeks. It cost somebody somewhere $500 million. And to what avail? The result was the invention of the reality TV show. To me, this sounds a lot like hell, but (oh faithful blog reader, be warned) if you happen to enjoy torture and reality TV, be prepared to be let down. Not even reality shows are safe from this strike, since they themselves have been unionized! Oh the humanity!

Do you remember those times when crises arose, and your favorite television program was interrupted by a celebrity encouraging you to give all of your hard earned money to match the 2% of their weekly salary that they themselves gave? Now I know that a vast majority of these writers are not famous, but in the grand scheme of the universe, are there not better things to protest? Is an increase in royalties really necessary when people are starving to death even in our own country?

What does all of this say about us as a country? Why do these writers control our lives? How can a pudgy man in Hollywood determine how I'm going to spend my prime time hours? It's simply not fair. I don't have any say in what they do.

This whole ordeal has me relieved that I refused to pay for cable.

What the Fundamentalist?

Read this. Listen to this.
Tell me how you feel.


http://reformedvoices.blogspot.com/2007/10/todd-friel-interviews-doug-pagitt-of_24.html

Is Doug Pagitt (and therefore, the entire emergent movement) a proclaimer of heresy?

Blogged with Flock

Obey your thirst.

Well, I thought I'd pass along a thought-inspiring little blog I read this morning, seeing as how the only people who read this stinking blog are or will be in church ministry. In this particular blog, Scot McKnight asks just how important image is.

Here's the link.
http://www.jesuscreed.org/?p=3002

First and foremost, I'd like to read this book, if there are any Christmas shoppers out there. Secondly, what are your reactions to this type of thinking? It's very close to a very sensitive subject in my heart. There is such rampant hypocrisy in churches that seem to market the gospel. In my own experience, that marketing comes through an image that the church forces all of its members into. Often, I feel like such an image becomes an idol.

But on the other hand, every community emits a vague representation of itself simply through the relationships we have or those we choose distinctly not to have. Does that justify a concern for our image? Is there a place of balance? And how can we reach people who have no concern and no attraction for church? Can we forget how the world looks at us and still be culturally and socially relevant? What about our identity?

Thoughts? Comments?

Blogged with Flock