Last week Jefferson Bethke’s video “I love Jesus but I hate Religion” went vrial and the blogosphere when haywire.  Here is a collection of some of the best responses I’ve read:

Spencer hits the nail on the head.

Chong makes some helpful distinctions.

Marc offers his thoughts from a Catholic perspective.

Christian underlines the false dichotomies.

Roger offers his insights (and some interesting background information)

Jonathan is troubled by the art and the theology (be sure to check out the comments section as well)

My friends weigh in with some of their thoughts (via facebook).

To be sure, none is this is meant to be hating on Jefferson – he is a well meaning guy and admits that he would have done things differently following the “fallout” of this video – props to Kevin deYoung for his wonderful pastoral response to Jefferson (and to Jefferson’s openness and willingness to listen).

And, in case for some reason you missed it – here is the link to the video - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IAhDGYlpqY&feature=player_embedded

I am blessed to know some really smart people.  Below is the transcript from a facebook discussion earlier today that I thought was worth sharing:

Jeff Klingenberg

From a pastor buddy . . . “The problem with this whole attack against “religion,” particularly as it relates to the Christian religion, is you cannot separate Christ from His Church. It would be like separating a head from the body…it doesn’t work. And certainly …as Calvinists we believe Scripture teaches how Christ died for His body, the Church. And so you need to BELONG to the Church, and are called to be a member of Christ’s Church. Now of course there is the Visible and Invisible distinction, but the Invisible resides within the Visible. Then there’s the whole matter of the “means of grace” that are found within the Church. This resurfacing of a disparaging of “Christian religion” is nothing more than a disparaging of that which Jesus Christ loved with a deep, passionate love. He loves His Bride. He gave Himself up for her. To disparage the Church is to disparage our Lord. And that is offensive” — Tyler Wagenmaker

Adrian Van Giessen

Yes, but what if the point of the video is not that we can be followers of Jesus without belonging to his church but rather we need to reclaim the centrality of the gospel and place that back at the center of the way Jesus’ church acts. While on earth, Jesus didn’t come to make a few ‘adjustments’ to the religion of his day but to turn it on it’s ear. Perhaps something like that is needed again. If this is true, this doesn’t disparage the organized church but call it back to its very core – if that is truly needed, that is truly loving.

Jason Postma

Jeff and Adrian – thanks for sharing. You both make very compelling points. I suppose this means that the issue is a matter of articulation and sophistication (without sliding into theological elitism) – if Adrian is correct in his suggestion about the point of the video, then it means that we, as pastors, need to be vigilant about communicating “Christian vocabulary” in a way that is both winsome and theologically sound so that our fellow-Christians, especially our youth, are able to communicate in a similar manner.

Jason Postma I still have problems with the individualism that the video implies and extols.

Jeffrey Hocking

It should be noted that for Herman Bavinck, God’s dwelling with his people goes beyond the church and even Christ. He writes: “The Christian religion is temporal; as an Erlösungsreligion it will someday have completed its task. When the kingdom has fully come, Christ will hand it over to God the Father. The original order will be restored. . . . Dualism will cease. Grace does not remain outside or above or beside nature but rather permeates and wholly renews it. And thus nature, reborn by grace, will be brought to its highest revelation. That situation will again return in which we serve God freely and happily, without compulsion or fear, simply out of love, and in harmony with our true nature. That is the genuine religio naturalis. In order to restore such religion, faith has for a time become a religio Christiana, Erlösungsreligion.” So perhaps this whole religion vs. the Gospel thing might be too easy and shallow, many of the critical responses I have heard to it have not been much better. It is getting at something I think, even if it is also missing something at the same time.

Jason Postma Jeff – can you give us the citation for that (awesome) quotation? Gotta love Bavinck!

Jeffrey Hocking

What Bavinck is saying in the whole of the article I quoted (which comes from an article titled “Common Grace”) is that God originally used the cultic practices of the Israelites to reveal his peace and glory. When that failed to leave the ”narrow channel” of those religious practices, God used the “religio Christiana,” but with the eschatological goal of the Christian church coming to an end when Christ hands everything back to the Father and God becomes “all in all”. That said, a Dutch Reformed, pietistic theologian (one of the best) was saying something like, but not completely similar, to what is being said in this popular movement.

Jeffrey Hocking Yes, sorry: Herman Bavinck, “Common Grace” trans. by R. C. Van Leeuwen, Calvin Theological Journal 24 (April 1989): 35-65.

Jason Postma so, the end of religion is predicated upon God becoming all in all?

Jason Postma I guess its a matter of, like I said above, this is a matter of theological sophistication (or a lack thereof). In other words, the message is right, but it remains surface level and therefore requires further fleshing out?

Jeffrey Hocking That is a good question. For Bavinck it is when Christ hands everything over to the Father. This is taken from 1 Cor. 15 and is after Christ has destroyed all dominion, authority, and power (the last of which is death). The language of God becoming all in all follows very shortly after, so I do not know if it is temporally simultaneous, but my sense is that it is practically one in the same event.

Jason Postma I love 1 Cor. 15 – one of my favorite sections of the Bible. But even there the communal aspects of salvation are clear – which underlines my discomfort about the individualism implied in the video.

Jeffrey Hocking

Yes, I agree with your comment about a lack of theological sophistication, Jason. My feeling is just that the lack has come from both sides, while the more critical side has disingenuously claimed the ‘high ground’. This blog post was much better than the Patrol Mag post in that sense. Still the “false dichotomy” stands out as too easy a critique. It might be a sloppy dichotomy, but it speaks to something that shouldn’t be so easily written off as the result of a false starting point.

Jeffrey Hocking Why does “religion” necessarily safe-guard against individualism? I think the case could be made that religion has been co-opted by the dominion, authority, and power that Jesus means to destroy. That is where I think the dichotomy says something true, but that is because I do not equate religion

Jason Postma

Jeff, I agree – kind of like the “straw man” critique. It’s easy to assert that someone else has created a straw man (something of which we are all guilty) but to rest one’s case entirely on this is shoddy critique. The rationale for me posting these videos is that a number of uni students from my congregation have been posting the video and I wanted to prompt them to a deeper level of engagement beyond simply “this video is cool and well put together and it talks about Jesus so it must be right”.

Jeffrey Hocking Yes, I know, my facebook feed is flooded with about half of the people liking these videos and the other half posting critical reflections on them. It is good to get people talking and I agree that there should be some critical response. I just wish they were better. Perhaps you should write one on your own blog and then I will post that. :)

Jason Postma As to religion serving as a safe guard against individualism – there is no guarantee that it does (even in the context of a local congregation). However, I guess I am too heavily invested in the church and too much of a communitarian (blame living in Japan and reading too much Charles Taylor…)

Jason Postma

Western society has long tried to downplay the significance of religion, but the central place of religion in human life throughout history clearly demonstrates that we cannot underestimate its power. This was a reality that many of the Enlightenment-era philosophers were not willing to concede. While they would grant a place to religion as one aspect of the human person, none would assert that mankind is fundamentally religious. Bavinck thus notes,

“By limiting religion to one human faculty, they diminish man’s universal character. They divide man in two and separate what belongs together. They create a gulf between religion and culture, and they run the danger of reducing religion to moral duty or aesthetic emotion or a philosophic view. But according to the Christian confession religion is other than and higher than all those views; religion must not just be something in one’s life, but everything, Jesus demands that we love God with all our heart, all our soul, and all our strength. In our thinking and living, there can be no division between God and the world, between religion and culture; no one can serve two masters.

Therefore if we want to do full justice to religion, we must return to the central unity in man that is the basis for differentiating his faculties and which in Holy Scripture is often designated the heart, from which proceed all expressions of life in mind, feeling, and will. Reformed theologians sought that central point for religion in (as Calvin called it) the seed of religion [semen religionis] or sense of divinity [sensus divinitatis], and in the Christian religion theologians went behind faith and conversion to regeneration, which in principle is a renewal of the whole man. When they took a position in this center of man, they saw opportunity to avoid all one-sidedness of rationalism, mysticism, and ethicism, and to maintain that religion is the animating principle of all of life (29-30).”

Jeff Klingenberg

I like what Pastor Darren Roorda has this to say . . . Have seen this vid posted by several of our youth or others I know all in their 20s. Here was my comment to them: I will leave you a similar comment I gave to others. So much of what he sa…ys is untrue. If the cross is as he says “the place where people gather” then when they get together there at the cross and worship and work together to let other people know, we properly call that the Christian religion. Faith is never practiced alone. All of the books written by the apostle Paul firstly to congregations…not individuals. And he rightly told us to gather together and encourage one another and build eachother up. That is religion. And for thousands of years, this faith, done in community is known as Church – the Christian religion which Christ instituted and said the gates of hell could not withstand and that he instituted to succeed. Now, there may be brokenness in the church, but still, it comes down to knowing our guilt, experiencing grace and living out a life of gratitude. And not just by myself but with and through others. That’s the church I know and want to be a part of and strive toward. And this video is far too negative on the church. In the reality that Jesus paints for us, the Christian church (its relgion) is the hope of the world!

Jeffrey Hocking

I’m now on the bus, which initiates a differnt conversational caedance. What is interesting to me is that you and I share a number of the same values (as far as I am aware), but I don’t feel any of my values being attacked with this attack on religion. I just feel like something else is meant entirely by the word. In this sense, I completely agree with Bavink, who by religion meant what I take you to mean, and I also somewhat agree with the Jesus>religion. I feel like the word does not have the same meaning in these contexts. I would be more likely to talk about the community of faith or the church when I talk about what is I take to be important to both of us. If that is what is under attack, then I am upset too. Faith only makes sense with in a community. ‘Religion’ at least in certain circles has tried to seperate the faith from the community and make it about a relationship an institution instead. That is what I am more than comfortable seeing fall to the authority of Jesus.

Jason Postma Jeff – nail on head… I’m having a discussion about this video on a different fb thread and the common consensus seems to be that the sticking point about this whole video is the definition of religion. I think that the ambiguity of the filmmakers (whether intentional or not) is a stroke of genius precisely because it is generating these kinds of discussions.

 

A sermon I gave at Bethel CRC (Newmarket) on January 8, 2011.

You’ve probably heard the phrase “you are what you eat”.  It means that the food you eat affects your health and state of mind.  When I was a kid, my mom always had the same solution for my after school crankiness – “eat something!”  She knew that an empty belly usually leads to a less than positive attitude, which, for a guy my size, meant that she had to have a well stocked fridge.

We can also see the truth of “you are what you eat” in the frightening statistics about rising obesity and the overwhelming availability of junk food both at drive-thrus and in grocery stores.  In moderation there is nothing wrong junk food, but as a whole it seems that our culture is addicted to it.  Constantly eating bad food will lead to bad health, which, in turn, can lead to an early death.  Good food choices, along with an active lifestyle, will lead to good health.  You are what you eat.

Not only is eating important for giving our body fuel, it is also an important part of our social lives.  Growing up, my family’s kitchen table was the centre of our life together.  Eating dinner was one of the most important ways that we grew our relationships with each other – we told stories and jokes, shared how our day went, and helped each other with and problems we might be facing.

Sharing meals together is also part of romantic relationships.  When a couple begins to date, typically the first place they go is to a restaurant.  When Natalie and I started dating, we got to know each other in the many diners and cafes surrounding our university.  Our relationship grew, and continues to grow, as we eat together.

Because eating is an important part of what it means to be human, it is not surprising that the Bible is full of stories about food.  One of my favorite stories about food in the Bible is the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000.  One of the reasons this story is fascinating to me is that I grew up in a small town of 4,500 people, so whenever I heard this story in Sunday School, I always tried to imagine what it would be like for Jesus to have fed everyone in my town – I couldn’t wrap my head around it then and I can’t wrap my head around it now.  It is pretty amazing when you think about it.  It was pretty amazing to the Gospel writers too – did you know it is the only one of Jesus’ miracles that is recorded in all four of the gospels?

The Gospel writers each tell the story differently.  They do so because they are not interesting in simply recounting history.  They are each trying to make a point in the way they tell and structure the story.  In other words, the Gospels are sermons, each with its own emphases and points of view that paint a larger picture of Christ’s life and ministry.  Today we will be reading the version of the story as told by Mark.  Please read along with me from Mark 6:30-44.

In order to get a sense of just how amazing this story is, I brought some food along with me – 2 fish and 5 loaves of bread to be exact.  Now, I should note that the fish is Tilapia, the most commonly caught fish in the Sea of Galilee and the loaves are as close as I could find to what people in Jesus’ day would have eaten.  This isn’t much food.  It would take at least one fish and most of a loaf of bread to fill me up.  If I were to host a dinner party with this amount of food, how many people do you think I could reasonably feed to the point that they were full?  4-5 people.  There are about 200-250 people here today.  If I broke all this bread and fish into small enough pieces, there might be enough for everyone to get either a piece of bread or a piece of fish.  Is that enough to feed everyone?  Obviously not.  If you multiply 250 by 20, what do you get?  5,000.  Now imagine 20x more people than are in this building being fed by this small amount of food that is enough to feed maybe 5 people.  Add to that 12 baskets of leftovers.  This is the reality of the miracle performed by Jesus.  If we are amazed by it, can you imagine what it was like for those who witnessed it and ate this miraculous food?

But is that all there is to this story – Jesus’ ability to do the impossible?  Is that what is really important?  Don’t get me wrong – Jesus’ miracles are all amazing.  Yet at the same time, if you hung around him long enough, you would begin to realize that you could expect miracles all the time.  So, the miracle, although important, is not the main point.

The menu is not important either – fish and bread were common staples of the day.  They were the typical items that common folk would eat on a daily basis.

Neither is the number of people being fed, especially when 5,000 isn’t really the correct number.  If you read the other gospel accounts of this story, 5,000 is the number of men who were present.  This means that the women and children weren’t counted.  So, in reality, Jesus fed far more than 5,000 people.

The most important part of the story is the feeding.

Earlier in chapter 6, Jesus sent out his disciples, two-by-two, with the task of preaching and healing.  At the beginning of our story for today, the disciples have just returned from this mission and are giving Jesus their report.  They are tired and hungry from their journey.  But while they were sharing their stories with Jesus, a crowd started gather.  So, Jesus instructed his disciples to join him to find a quiet space to get some rest.  They got in a boat and headed out.  But when they arrived at their destination, the crowds were there waiting.

When Jesus sees the crowds, he has great compassion on them.  The Greek word used to explain Jesus’ feelings about the situation is “splagchnizomai” – let me hear you say “splagchnizomai”.  It literally means to have one’s guts be torn apart.  Jesus is deeply moved by the needs of the crowd.  It’s like the feeling a parent has when they hold their newborn child – the emotional connection and heave of love and care is overwhelming.  This is what Jesus felt toward the crowd.

They were sheep without a shepherd – lost and wandering in the wilderness.  There are a flock that needs care.  So, Jesus foregoes his rest and begins to teach them.

The disciples come to Jesus asking him to send the crowds away so that the people may get some food.  This is the disciples’ way of saying to Jesus “we were promised food and rest and now these people are preventing us from taking a well-deserved break.  Get rid of them so that we can relax”.  Although Jesus’ care for the crowds is evident, the disciples seem ignorant of this, preoccupied with their own needs.

Jesus turns to them and says “You give them something to eat”.

This is not an instruction.  This is an accusation.

Earlier in chapter 6 when Jesus sends the disciples out, he tells them “take nothing for the journey except a staff – no bread, no bag, and no money in your belts”.

Now, when Jesus says “You give them something to eat”, the disciples are incredulous and immediately begin giving excuses – “It would take almost 8 months wages to feed everyone here!  We don’t have that kind of cash with us”.  The implication is that the disciples have money with them and Jesus is calling them out on this.

This leads to Jesus’ next question – “how many loaves do you have?”  To which the disciples reply “We have five loaves of bread and two fish”.

The disciples have just returned from a mission on which they were to bring no food and no money.  And yet, here they are, having just come back and what do they have?  Food and money.

Jesus is being sharp with his disciples.  He is saying – “why are you asking me to do something about this when you have food and you have money?  You do something about it!”  In other words, he is saying “You didn’t trust me to provide for you before, and now you’re running to me to fix your problems?  Why don’t you trust that God will provide?”

And yet, the disciples, like so many other times, seem incapable of even the smallest amount of trust.  Their responses are pragmatic – we don’t have enough money and we don’t have enough food.  This attitude leaves them unable to see the possibility that God is always able to provide.

So, out of his deep compassion for the flock, Jesus tells everyone to sit down on the green grass.  In that time, people would recline when eating a special meal.  The irony is inescapable – although they are in the middle of the wilderness, Jesus is getting ready to give a feast.  This immediately brings to mind the words of Psalm 23 – “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.  He makes me lie down in green pastures…He prepares a table for me.”  The sheep now have a shepherd.

Even though the provisions are meager, Jesus gives thanks, breaks the bread and the fish and instructs the disciples to give it to the crowd.

They all ate and were satisfied.

This crowd that followed Jesus, once spiritually and physically hungry, is now full.

Everyone ate her fill and there are leftovers.

Most people don’t like leftovers.  But in this story the leftovers signify God’s abundance and generosity.  God gives and when we receive in faith, there is always enough for everyone with more to spare.  Not to mention that perhaps the 12 baskets of leftovers were Jesus’ way of saying to the disciples – when you trust me, I will always provide for you.

Not only is the feeding important, but so too is the history and symbolism in Mark’s telling of this story.  We need to be aware of this to get the fuller picture of what this story is all about.  Mark frequently uses symbolism in his gospels to add layers of meaning to the stories.

Twelve was a very important number for the Israelites.  Not only are there 12 tribes, there are also 12 disciples.  The number of loves and fish also bear symbolic importance – the five loaves of bread correspond to the five books of Moses, and the two fish represent the law and the prophets.  These details underline the deep connection between food and scripture.  “Food and scripture are rightly tied together because there can be no strict separation between body and soul.  The words of scripture are the words of life, every bit as essential for our ability to live as bread and fish”.[1]  God is the provider of everything we need – physically and spiritually – and precisely because these needs overlap, there is no clear separation between them.

This story echoes that of Elisha in 2 Kings 4:38-44.  There is a famine in the land.  A man brings Elisha 20 loaves of bread.  Elisha tells his servant to feed the 100 men who are with them.  The servant scoffs saying “How can I feed one hundred men with this?”  To which Elisha responds: “Give it to the people so they can eat!  This is what the Lord says: ‘Eat and there will be leftovers’”.  The servant gave the men the bread, they ate it, and there were leftovers.  Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Mark is also alluding to God’s provision to the Israelites in the desert following their exodus from Egypt.  The feeding of the 5,000 is essentially a re-enactment of God’s feeding of the Israelites in the wilderness.  In Exodus 16, the Israelites begin complaining to Moses “Oh, how we wish that the Lord had just put us to death while we were still in the land of Egypt.  There we could sit by the pots cooking meat and eat our fill of bread.  Instead, you’ve brought us out into this desert to starve us to death” (v.4).  To which God replied: “At twilight you will eat meat.  And in the morning you will have your fill of bread.  Then you will know that I am the Lord your God” (v.12b).

Not only does the feeding of the 5,000 recapitulate God’s feeding of the Israelites in the desert, it also anticipates God’s feeding of the church through the Lord’s Supper.  In these meals, God is providing spiritual and physical sustenance.  He is displaying his compassion and care for humans through simple yet lavish means.  But he is also reminding us that we do not live by bread alone, but also by the words of God.  Like the manna and quail in the desert and the food for the 5,000, God provides a feast for his people, the church, a feast that we call the Lord’s Supper.

The question for us today is how do we eat this feast?

There is a wonderful movie called Babette’s Feast that is an apt description of both how we often approach the Lord’s Supper and the effect that Lord’s Supper should have on us.  The movie tells the story of a very strict Christian sect that avoids all the sensual delights of this world.  Fleeing from the revolution in France, a woman named Babette comes to live with them as their housekeeper and cook.  After she wins 10,000 francs in the French lottery, rather than return home, Babette decides to spend it all on preparing a marvelous and extravagant feast for the aging members of the sect.

Although the congregation shuns all sensual luxury, they agree to eat the meal.  However, before eating, they decide amongst themselves that they will not take any pleasure in the food and will not talk about the food during dinner.  I think that this is often how we approach the Lord’s Supper – as a somber and solemn affair despite the richness and abundance of food being offered.  Like the sect members, we often equate reverence and piety with a detached austerity.  Rather than celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and his triumph over sin and death, we act as though we are at his funeral.

However, in the film, as the feast progresses, the guests cannot help but be overcome by the meal.  As they eat, their hearts begin to melt and they begin to understand that, despite their resistance, that God’s grace cannot be contained by our piety precisely because his grace is lavish and infinite.  They slowly begin to realize that creation is a gift given to us by God to be enjoyed and celebrated.  The meal is a reminder to them of the richness of God’s creation and redemption.

Someone once said “the Church has nothing to say to the world unless it throws better parties”.  In other words, the Church has the best news offered to the world – that Christ is risen, that sin is forgiven, that death and hell are defeated, that Christ is returning to establish his heavenly kingdom on earth and that when he returns we will be feasting with him for eternity.  This news should be cause for the type of celebration that causes us to want to get up and dance, to shout from the rooftops, to celebrate with a sense of reckless abandon because we know that Christ is Lord!

So the question is – do we allow the meal to become truly transformative of our lives in such a way that it is a celebration of the new lives we have because of Christ?  In other words, in our consumption of Christ in the Lord’s Supper, do we allow Christ to completely consume us?

When we feast with Christ at his table, we are participating in his kingdom and we are anticipating when that kingdom will be fully established on earth.  But, our waiting is never passive.  Like he did to his disciples, Jesus also turns to us and asks us to feed the hungry sheep – to be their shepherds on his behalf, to show the kind of gut-ripping compassion he shows to us.

This also means that we when pray “Give us our daily bread” that we use this as an opportunity to open ourselves to the reality of our spiritual and physical hunger.  Every day I require food.  When I do not get the food I need, I become hungry. The stuff of my life is hunger, need, and lack, which opens me to the reality of my complete and utter dependence on God.   However, technology and affluence blind me to this truth; I live in a country where food is readily available and in a culture where food is an idol.  I seek to sate my hunger with all the wrong things and, as a result, I am always left hungry and empty.  And yet, a single day without food is enough to remind me of the truth of what I am – a creature who depends on the good gifts of his Creator.  A sheep who needs a shepherd.

God is our provider – he provides us with physical food and spiritual food.  It is in the Lord’s Supper and the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 in which we are reminded that when we feast with Christ, we will always be satisfied.  We taste and see that the Lord is good.  We learn that God is not a miser – he spared no expense in the meal he gives us.  Indeed, it cost him everything to ensure that his sheep are feed.  This is provision.  This is abundance.  This is grace.  This is something worth celebrating.

When we feast with Christ, our faith is established, our hope is nourished, and our love becomes extravagant.


[1] Stanely Hauerwas, Matthew.  Brazos Publishing: Grand Rapids, 2006, p.139.

I am not a fan of Bruce Cockburn.

This is not because I don’t like his music, but rather because, other than “Lovers in a Dangerous Time”, I simply don’t know it.  To be honest, I’m more familiar with the Bare Naked Ladies cover of “Lovers” than of the original, which is to say that until I learned that the song was a cover, I assumed that it was a BNL song.  Although I am not prone to displays of patriotism, I suppose my ignorance of all things Cockburn could be considered an insult to my fellow Canadians.

Brian Walsh would consider this less an act of treason and more an act of heresy.

When I began my graduate studies at the Institute for Christian Studies in Toronto, it quickly became clear that Cockburn’s work was considered secondary literature in the biblical studies courses taught by Sylvia Keesmaat (who, by the way, is Walsh’s spouse and co-author of Colossians Remixed, a book for which I was the research assistant).  Although it was clear that Cockburn’s lyrics were rich with poetic imagery and prophetic critique, I was never compelled to listen to or purchase one of his many CDs, operating under the assumption that since Cockburn has produced an album nearly every year since 1970 that such prodigious output was symptomatic of poor musical quality.  This was an obviously ignorant assumption because, as I’ve since learned, Cockburn is, to put it mildly, an accomplished guitar player whose passion for the instrument is evident in his playing.

Anyone who knows Brian Walsh knows he is very passionate about three things – the Bible, theology, and Bruce Cockburn.  In his latest book, Kicking at the Darkness: Bruce Cockburn and the Christian Imagination, Walsh combines these three passions into a virtuosic performance that channels Cockburn’s guitar playing.  Walsh deftly combines biblical poetry, Cockburn’s lyrics, and his own targums to create a stunning work of probing cultural criticism and imaginative prophetic insight into our modern world.

Kicking at the Darkness shows that Walsh is not simply a theologian; he is also an artist, a poet who unmasks the pretensions of our materialist culture and dares to imagine that another world is possible.  He makes the biblical text speak with clarity and urgency making the biblical prophets Cockburn’s contemporaries in diagnosing the ills of modern society and hoping for a world made right.  Walsh is a theological troubadour who invites us to make the hope-filled biblical cadences of home our own as we sing and dance, mourn and laugh, and dare to dream.

Kicking at the Darkness is an essential read for anyone interested in the intersection of theology and culture.  Rather than typical facile attempts to show how culture is anathema to faith, Walsh gives us a primer on how to properly interweave theological and cultural resources to cultivate a properly Christian imagination suffused with fearless love, vibrant hope, and rooted faith.

In reading Kicking at the Darkness, not only will you sit at the feet of two masters in their respective fields, you may just become a fan of Bruce Cockburn after all.

Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc.   Available at your favourite bookseller from Brazos Press, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

I remember when our family read from Eugene Peterson’s The Message for the first time at our family devotions.  We were reading from John 1.  Peterson cleverly translated “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” into “the Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood”.  To be clear, Peterson was translating from the Greek, not the NIV, but this made no difference to my father who was visibly disturbed by this phrasing.  I remember his ears and head immediately perking up as he said “that is not right!  That’s not what the Bible says!”  My father was so used to hearing the passage from one translation to the point that he could listen to it without hearing what it meant.  Peterson will be happy to know that one of his purposes in writing The Message – helping readers hear the words of the Bible with fresh ears – was fulfilled.  It is very easy to become complacent in our Bible reading, especially if we limit ourselves to reading from one translation and sticking to our favorite passages.  Translations such as The Message help us to hear the text in new ways, brings out the depth of meaning often precluded by surface readings, and opens up new interpretive horizons.

Bible publishing is huge business.  In the past few years, there have been a number of new translations and revisions – the TNIV, the NIV (2011), the ESV, and the CEB – each with its supporters and detractors.  Not to mention the number of “niche-market” Bibles, like the Soldier’s Bible, Student Bibles, Manga Bibles, Women’s Bibles, Bibles for Couples, etc.  One need only visit their local Christian bookstore to catch but a glimpse of all the Bibles on offer.  It seems Christians are being increasingly held captive by a consumerist mentality when it comes to shopping for a Bible, a phenomenon deftly explored and explained by Timothy Beal in “The Rise and Fall of the Bible“.  This is not to say that different translations and audience targeted Bibles are inherently problematic.  While the proliferation of niche Bibles is certainly problematic, as a pastor I understand the benefit of using multiple interpretations in preaching and teaching and in having a range, albeit very limited, of different niche Bibles, particularly Children’s Bible’s, Student Bibles, and Study Bibles.

Enter The Names of God Bible, edited by Ann Spangler (God’s Word Translation).  Is it simply another niche Bible or does it help us hear the Biblical text with fresh ears?

The main feature of The Names of God Bible is that references to God are left in the original Hebrew, transliterated into English.  Thus, Genesis 1 reads “In the beginning Elohim created heaven and earth”, Psalm 23 begins “Yahweh is my Roeh”, Romans 8 starts “So those who are believers in Christ Yeshua can no longer be condemned”.  I initially appreciated this approach to the text because it avoids repeated references to “God”, “Lord” and “the Lord”.  However, upon repeated reading, “Yahweh”, “Elohim”, and “Adonay” quickly became just as commonplace as their English counterparts, which lends this version of the Bible to becoming gimmicky rather quickly.

Also, as someone who has no formal training in Hebrew, it was also frustrating having to always refer to the name index at the beginning as a translation guide to the infrequently used names of God.  Footnotes would have made reading much more fluid.  While there are 46 names or titles of God used in the Bible, the majority are so infrequently used that I was left wondering why this version of the Bible is even necessary.  Why not include a translation of these less frequently used names and titles in the footnotes of existing Bibles translations rather than create a whole new version of the Bible?  Or why not create a prayer and reading guide to the names of God as a resource tool to accompany one’s devotional reading, as are already available by the editor of this Bible?   The book/chapter introductions and editorial commentary on the various names and titles of God were helpful but, again, it is difficult to see why this necessitated the creation of a new Bible version.

Overall, I was unimpressed with The Names of God Bible and fail to see why the publisher felt it necessary to create other than to capitalize on the growing market for niche Bibles.  This is not a Bible that I would use or recommend for study or devotional reading because it relies on a gimmick that will not help readers hear the Biblical text with fresh ears.

Bible has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc.   Available at your favourite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

As a youth pastor, I am overwhelmed by the number of books available outlining the current crises of the church when it comes to the Millennial generation and their exodus from the institutional church.    Often these books fail to adequately describe this reality, in terms of our surrounding culture and its impact on church culture, preferring to rely on alarmist rhetoric and faulty analysis.  Moreover, the answers proposed by these books do little, in my opinion, to uproot the underlying factors driving this exodus.

In addition, discussions surrounding this issue by church leadership and laity alike are often grounded in blatant ignorance at worst and baffled confusion at best.  One cannot doubt the good intentions that motivate their concern for the younger generations.  However, regardless of the tone of the discussion, the result is almost always the same – an unfortunate unwillingness to listen and engage with the root causes of this exodus and a refusal to make the necessary changes in order to address the concerns of younger generations.

My youth ministry colleagues and I share similar frustrations when it comes to these kinds of discussions.  Often a concerned parent, grandparent, or church leader will approach us, seeking an answer for the absence of teens and young adults in our congregations.  However, their legitimate concern for youth is quickly undone with intonations of: “This kind of behavior is typical of young people – all they do is complain!  When I was young, I did the same thing, but at least I stuck around.  Young people today are too entitled – instead of trying to be part of the solution, all they do is sulk and walk away when they don’t get their own way!”

As a member of the Millennial generation who works with younger members of this generation, I cannot emphasize enough how wrong this perception is.  Indeed, it is precisely this kind of attitude that is causing young people to walk away from the church.  Millennials are not leaving church simply because they aren’t getting their own way.  Rather, it is because they realize they don’t even have a place at the leadership table.  The question is – how can we expect a generation to stick things out simply in order for them to maintain the status quo once they are finally given the opportunity to lead, especially when the diagnoses they are presently offering concerning the state of the church are uncomfortably accurate?

It seems as though we are ignoring the prophetic utterances of the younger generation at our own peril, completely blind to the fact that “business as usual” when it comes to church is bearing bad fruit.  The painful irony is that the church leadership who are so quick to stonewall the ideas and passions of Millenials are often from the “Greatest Generation”, a generation that shares much in common with the Millenials, particularly a strong civic-mindedness and entrepreneurial spirit.  Inversely, one of the biggest differences between these two generations concerns their relationship to institutional religion – whereas the Greatest Generation felt at home in churches, Millenials, for better or worse, remain highly suspicious of religious institutions.

When it comes to addressing this issue, churches are in a bind.  Lead by well-meaning members of a generation who are reluctant to engage a younger generation by actively listening to their concerns and risking their proposals for change, a siege mentality often grips the hearts and minds of older generations who, while concerned for their children and grandchildren, are unwilling to make the necessary sacrifices to become a truly intergenerational church family.  And the exodus continues.

We are reaping what we’ve sown.  Driven by a strong sense of fair-play, Millenials are interested in collaboration among equals.  This also means that they are not interested in fighting, so when conflict looms, they simply walk away.  They are also highly community oriented – if they don’t find community in one place, they will look for it elsewhere.  And in our highly digitally connected world, they will certainly find it.  This means that if younger generations are not given the opportunity to participate in meaningful discussions that will shape the present and future of the church and if they are denied leadership roles, they will not bother investing their time and energy into what they see as a fruitless endeavor.  They will go to where the action is and where they can have an important role to play.

This is precisely why David Kinnaman’s new book, You Lost Me: Why Young Christians Are Leaving Church…And Rethinking Faith, is so important.  It provides a clear and incisive picture of both the Millenial generation and why they are leaving the church.  Kinnaman wants to explore the question: “Is Christianity’s dropout problem a unique sociological phenomenon of the early part of the twenty-first century or just a natural part of the human life cycle in which youth people experience faith maturation?”  In other words, is this exodus of young adults from the church something new or is it something that every generation of young adults goes through?  Rather than taking an either/or approach, Kinnaman adeptly argues why this phenomenon is both a new and old problem and outlines his proposals for how to reach this generation.

What I especially appreciated about You Lost Me was the careful distinctions made in distinguishing groups of “dropouts” and the very different reasons each is disengaging from church.  Kinnaman’s discussion of the importance of intergenerational relationships in fostering life-long discipleship also struck home for me as I am currently developing a mentoring program in my congregation to serve as the foundation for our youth ministry.

To be clear, the primary focus of You Lost Me is so-called “churched” young adults.  However, the proposals Kinnaman and others (such as Shane Claiborne, Kenda Creasy Dean, Scot McKnight, and Kara Powell) offer to engage the Millenial generation are also applicable in address the flip-side of this issue (i.e. why are “un-churched” young adults avoiding faith and church altogether).  Rather than demanding that the older generations simply aquiese to the ideas of the Millenials, the proposals offered are pragmatic and constructive and, for congregations willing to take the risk of implementing them, will produce good fruit.

I don’t often recommend books on youth ministry/culture because I find many that are not worth recommending for one reason or another.  However, You Lost Me is certainly an exception.  It is not simply a book for youth pastors – it should be mandatory reading for youth pastors, senior pastors, church leadership, parents, and anyone concerned about addressing the reasons for the exodus of young adults from the church and from faith.

 

“Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc.  Available at your favourite bookseller from Baker Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group”.  

On the surface, the recent controversy at Calvin College surrounding the publications of two professors appears to be simply a matter of different interpretations on the issue of human origins.  I say simply because anyone who follows these debates realizes that there are a large number of viewpoints on this issue and not the simple polarization that we are used to hearing about.

However, because this debate is taking place within an educational institution of a denomination (the Christian Reformed Church of North America), it becomes less a matter of negotiating between differing opinions and more like a fight at a family gathering where the lines crossed threaten the integrity of the family.  (For more on the ethics of how we should conduct such a discussion, please see this article by Shiao Chong, CRC Campus Minister at York University).

In other words, the theological implications notwithstanding, this debate is about how we understand the function of tradition in shaping our identity.  It raises fundamental questions as – What must one believe (and, consequently, refute) in order to be considered a member of the denomination?  What does it mean to be Christian Reformed?  Or, to put it bluntly, how do we determine who is “in” and who is “out”?  Indeed, one’s understanding of the function of tradition inevitably influences how one participates in the debate.

The CRCNA relies on the ecumenical creeds and Three Forms of Unity to delineate its doctrinal beliefs.  But in a situation such as the “Calvin controversy”, the interpretation of these creeds and confessions is at issue.  This is more than a matter of hermeneutics – it is about how we understand the nature of tradition.  Although this is true of every intra-denominational debate, particularly when it comes to doctrinal disputes, it is something that is often overlooked.  All sides claim to be the true representatives of the tradition – we are the bearers and guardians of the identity and therefore we are the ones who speak with authority on its behalf.  Everyone else are merely poseurs.  (One is unfortunately reminded of the fallout of the debate within the CRC concerning women in office where some of those churches who left the denomination called themselves “The Orthodox CRC” and is left to wonder about the potential fallout from discussions concerning evolution and homosexuality, for instance).

So, why do we need to remember that these types of debates are about more than meets the eye, that they are, at root, about how we use (and abuse) history and tradition in the formation of our identity?

Firstly, we will be reminded of the words of Ephesians 4:3-6 that Christians of all traditions are called to make “every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.  There is on body and one Spirit…one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all and in all”.  Unity in Christ is one of the marks of the church.  It is a unity that knows no limits in terms of cultural difference, temporal divide, or denominational tradition.  We do well to remind ourselves of this fact and seek to denounce and desperately avoid the schismatic consequences that these debates are wont to produce.

When framed in terms of doctrinal assent and agreement, Christian unity is always tenuous and fractious.  Unity in Christ, although difficult, must be the Church’s way of being lest we risk the fate of the Ephesian church in Revelation 2.  When we focus on unity, we remember that these debates never will settle the last word on any matter –the last word is not ours to have – and we remember that as those adopted as Christ’s sisters and brothers, we must treat each other with the kind of charity and respect we extend to and expect from our earthly family members.  Our Christian unity will remind us to always extend a hermeneutics of charity to those with whom we are in disagreement rather than point accusatory fingers and call each other heretics.

Secondly, when we reflect on the function of tradition, we are reminded that tradition is, by its very nature, dynamic.  It does not arrive to us or operate in terms of divine fiat.  Rather, it is a human creation.  Tradition is, as Paul Ricoeur notes, “constituted by the interplay of innovation and sedimentation”.  In other words, tradition is both a product of the imagination and a work of preservation.  Tradition is like a piece of artwork in a museum that is continually being added to – it remains the same the piece of art all the while undergoing continual transformation.  In other words, the nature of tradition is change and continuity in constant negotiation with each other.

This also means that although traditions have distinct contours that give it structure and identity, these boundaries are not static; rather, they are blurry and always in flux.  Those who act as though tradition operates with closed boundaries are effectively shutting down the tradition for which they speak.  Because the boundaries are fuzzy, tradition is not something that can be owned or possessed.  Tradition, true to its etymology, is something that can be passed down and shared as a gift.  It is up to those to whom the tradition is given to continue the work of imagination and preservation.

Perhaps it is helpful to think in terms of an organic metaphor – If our faith is a fruit tree, then Christ is the root, history is the soil, and tradition is the fertilizer (and to be Trinitarian about things – we can say that the Father is the farmer and the Spirit is the sun and rain).  When we neglect to turn over the soil and to add fertilizer, then the tree will wither and die and fruit will cease to grow.  Good soil still requires tilling and the addition of nutrients in order to produce good yields.  In order to promote healthy growth of our faith, history and tradition must always be open to re-interpretation as the soil in which we grow.  Tradition is a living thing.

When the dialectic of innovation and sedimentation ceases, tradition dies, either in the face of constant innovation to the point that it ceases to have a distinct identity or as the result of an enforced sedimentation that inevitably leads to stagnation and invariably becomes an idol to its adherents.  Tradition is neither a passing fad to be ditched when the next best thing comes along nor a script to be memorized.  We are the ones who give tradition life when we see it as a process of continual negotiation between imagination and preservation rather than a destination at which we’ve already arrived at in the past or as a placeholder to which we pay lip service with no real allegiance.

In remembering our call to unity and the dynamic nature of tradition, we will be less prone to schism, heretic hunting, theological inquisitions, or faddish hipsterism.  Instead, we will continue to nurture the tradition that nourishes our faith, allowing it to continue to live and grow as a product of our God-given imaginations and as a cherished part of our past that shapes our present and future identity.  Whatever one may think of their conclusions, it is clear that Harlow and Schneider would agree with this assessment of the nature and role of tradition and we would be wise to follow.

As I rule I don’t watch reality T.V.  However, when it comes to “Kitchen Nightmares”, I am happy to make an exception.  Not only does the show accurately depict the challenges and pressures of the restaurant business, it is an offers an unsentimental portrayal of human nature in all its ugliness and beauty.  (At this point, I should add that I am thinking of the U.K. version of the show; the American version relies on sensationalism to drive the story).  As a pastor I find that the stories in “Kitchen Nightmares” also echo the stories of many congregations who are reticent to change despite the realities of our postmodern, post-Christian culture.

If the statistics about the mass exodus of young adults from the church are accurate, then the church in North America is at a crossroads – continue down the path it took in the past ignorant of this fact or explore uncharted territory in an effort to remain faithful to the task of making disciples in the midst of an ever-changing culture.  Those congregations that take the former path are like the restaurant owners of “Kitchen Nightmares” who operate in such a state of denial that they are unable and unwilling to see the current state of things.  For them, a fresh coat of paint and a new menu will not be enough to change things – a change of heart and a renewal of passion are required in order to create a willingness to take the risk of journeying down the path of uncertainty.

Enter Michael Frost as Gordon Ramsay.  Frost speaks with knowledge and conviction and refuses to pull punches in diagnosing the problems of the contemporary church, all the while doing so without uttering any expletives.  Frost shares the same of kind of enthusiasm for the Church that Ramsay has for cuisine and helping struggling restaurateurs.

In his new book, The Road to Missional, Frost is concerned that the church is ignoring problematic trends that will inevitably and negatively shape the future of the church, trends that include the aforementioned exodus of young people from the church, the increasing number of un-churched people, the evolution of “missional” into a meaningless buzzword, and the harmful effects of the mega-church phenomenon.

Frost’s main point in The Road to Missional is simply this – becoming missional is not about making congregations more appealing for a new generation; rather, becoming missional is about equipping and releasing people to be the church in their neighborhoods, regardless of what style of worship they prefer of the size of the congregation.  Becoming missional is all about tapping into the missio Dei in order to be a foretaste of the reign of God in Christ.  Thus, becoming missional is not simply a matter of phraseology or programming – it is a never ending process and a “lifelong calling to service, sacrifice, selflessness, and effort”.

In a world of celebrity pastors, huge church buildings, slick marketing, and programming designed for every demographic, The Road to Missional is a much needed clarion call for the church to reclaim its identity and purpose as the hands and feet of Christ in our broken word.  Frost also reminds us that we must cease our penchant for separating and opposing evangelism and social justice and see them as two sides of the same coin.  Only then will we be able to fully participate in God’s mission to redeem the world and reconcile it to himself.

I highly recommend The Road to Missional, especially for anyone who is not already familiar with Frost’s work, as an accessible “guidebook” for what is means to become missional.  Standing on the shoulders of Lesslie Newbigin and David Bosch, Frost is theologically solid without relying on academic jargon.  Moreover, as a Reformed pastor, I find Frost’s use of Reformed theologians Newbigin and Bosch to be especially helpful as I attempt to help my congregation become missional.  Knowing that there is solid Reformed theology behind the call to become missional helps people realize the implications of their Reformed identity.

The Road to Missional is recommended for pastors, youth pastors, church leadership, lay members, anyone who is wondering or concerned about what this whole “missional movement” is all about, and for those who are tired/wary of doing church and ready to take the risk of becoming missional.

“Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc.
Available at your favourite bookseller from Baker Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group”.  

I always felt a bit uncomfortable reading the prayers of others.  There is always a disconnect for me reading the words of others as my own prayer.  I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I am not part of a tradition that uses prayer books in communal worship.

However, this is not to suggest that praying with the prayers of others is necessarily something to be avoided, especially since, as Christians, we have our own “built in prayer books” in the Bible.  Praying with the Psalms is a wonderfully rich and deep experience; the words of the Psalmist become my words.  I have also found the prayer books of Walter Brueggemann and Phyllis Tickle to be profound – they express the deep longing and vibrant hope that resonates with my soul, they pray for me when I am unable to pray myself.  These prayers are works of art; poetic expressions of our need for and encounter with Yaweh.  They remind me that the act of prayer is not simply relegated to a time of pious devotion but an act of worship and a way of life.

I approached the recent prayer book, Everyday Prayers by Scotty Smith with the same hesitation I approach all prayer books.  I realize it is not fair to compare or evaluate prayers, so it is difficult to do a proper book review of a prayer book.

So, allow me a few brief reflections.

The language of prayer is very important.  The words and phrases we use cultivate our spiritual imaginations and shape our beliefs.  It is interesting that the majority of Smith’s prayers address God as Father.  In the plethora of names for God given to us in the Bible, it seems strange to pray with such banal invocation.  Yes, Jesus began his teaching on prayer with “Our Father”, but too many Christians seem content to limiting themselves to this as their primary way of addressing God, ignoring the other biblical images and names for God.  What happens to our relationship with God and to our theology when we are content to limit ourselves to praying to the Father only?

Smith does begin a number of his prayers addressing Christ, and the Holy Spirit does get a few mentions, yet the majority of Smith’s prayers tend to favour two “corners” of the Trinity to the neglect of the Spirit.  If John Calvin truly is a “theologian of the Holy Spirit”, then one would expect those who follow in his tradition to be more focused on the Spirit in their prayers.  However, speaking from within the Reformed tradition myself, communal prayers to the Holy Spirit are almost always viewed with suspicion.

Because Smith operates within good ol’ Reformed piety, the emphasis on God the father should not be surprising and neither should his penchant for preaching through prayer.  His prayers are suffused with a heavy dose of Reformed theology and often seem more like polished sermons than longings of the heart.  Often, these prayers seem to be an exercise in affirming dogma rather than a conversation with Christ.

I cannot fault Smith from speaking from his tradition – indeed the language of our traditions inevitably shapes our piety.  And, as another Smith (James K.A.) from the Reformed tradition notes, Calvinists tend to operate as “brains on a stick” when it comes to our piety; this comes out clearly in many of Smith’s prayers.  Unfortunately, at times it felt that Everyday Prayers was more an exercise of reading theology than of praying and struggling with a brother in Christ.  Sometimes while reading through the book, I would wonder – who really prays like this, doesn’t it seem a bit superfluous?

However, that being said, there are moments of honesty and beauty in these prayers, words that you can pray to draw you deeper into your relationship with God – the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

So, while it is difficult to review a book of someone else’s heartfelt prayers, if you are from the Reformed tradition and looking for a resource to deepen your piety, Everyday Prayers may be the book you are looking for.

“Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc. 
Available at your favourite bookseller from Baker Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group”.

http://revisioningyouthministry.wordpress.com/2011/09/12/numbers-is-a-book-in-the-bible-not-a-fruit-of-the-spirit/

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