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The Pistol-Packing Pastor

pistol-packing-pastor2

The LA Times had a story recently about a pastor who carries heat: “He shows others how to put their trust in God and take their security into their own hands.”

From the story:

BEAUMONT, Texas — Two years ago on Super Bowl Sunday, Pentecostal preacher James McAbee was getting into his car after services when he heard a commotion. He saw two men break a window and enter a church hall that was being renovated.

McAbee called 911. The dispatcher said it would take officers at least 11 minutes to respond.

He lingered outside for a moment, frustrated.

“I could hear them snapping the lumber and carrying the sheet rock,” McAbee said.

The pastor drew a .380 pistol he wore in an ankle holster and burst into the hall — only to find two adolescents.

McAbee, who’d had a troubled youth, saw himself in the pair. He lowered his gun to offer some fatherly advice, but the older one, a 17-year-old with two outstanding drug warrants, rushed the pastor with the pointy end of a broken 2-by-4.

“I got my gun back out in time,” McAbee said. “He froze in his tracks. I said, ‘Son, you better not move or I’ll put one right in your watermelon!’”

The pastor held them until police arrived.

Some laud this pastor as exemplary, and he’s become known as Triple-P: “Pistol-Packing Pastor.” He began teaching gun classes shortly after he earned his nickname, and cites Scripture that he says justifies the classes: Psalm 144:1, “The Lord has trained me for battle”; and Luke 22:36, in which Jesus instructs the disciples to arm themselves.

I actually posted Luke 22:38 earlier today on Facebook:

So they said, “Lord, look! Here are two swords.”
He answered them, “Enough of that!”

Typical translations will have Jesus reply: “That is enough,” but I like this version. It’s as if Jesus is dismissing such talk. Yet in either case, Jesus is noting that his disciples are not to be about aggression and violence. Two swords would be laughed at in the face of even the smallest contingent of Roman or Herodian soldiers. He would face their worst, and was not about to respond in kind.

RELATED: Christianity, Gun Violence, and the Nihilism of Mike Huckabee

But back to our pistol-packing pastor:
He was expecting more than 100 people to attend his latest class, mandated by the state for concealed handgun licenses. The class costs $50, and in recent months, McAbee’s business has tripled and he’s trained more than 1,000 people.

What do you think? Is he doing a good thing? Is it possible to teach someone to trust in God and take security matters into their own hands? My own sense is that the need to carry the gun points to the opposite of trust in God. “Sure, I’ll trust you, God, up until the point I actually need to trust you. At that point, I’ll take care of things myself, thank you.”

There’s more to the story:

Guns were a normal part of McAbee’s life. He was raised in the small town of Clover, S.C., where his grandfather took him hunting. His mother worked in law enforcement and carried a gun.

One day at the range, his mother accidentally shot and partially paralyzed herself. McAbee was 9.

He grew up caring for his mother, and the stress took a toll. As a teenager he started using drugs and stealing to feed his habit.

When he was 18, McAbee was caught breaking into an elderly neighbor’s house. He was convicted of burglary, aggravated assault and battery, and served 21/2 years in a maximum-security prison.

There, McAbee felt called to preach.

This is a fascinating story. This guy spends over twenty years in prison because his mother shot herself with her own gun, yet he’s still enamored with them. Amazing. In prison he finds God. You’d think perhaps he would turn over a new leaf in regard to guns. The story continues (you’re not even going to believe this part):

In 2008, his mother again wounded herself with her own gun. Weakened by the shooting, she died later that year.

Seriously? She does this twice?! And she worked in law enforcement. You’d think this would be it for McAbee and guns. There’s no way he can look at one and say, “Hey, this is a good thing, more people ought to have these…” Except he does.

McAbee’s attitude about guns was unchanged: “Don’t blame the tool.”

Don’t blame the tool. Indeed.

MacAbee was hired three years ago at his present church, which is in a low-income neighborhood where gun crimes and celebratory gunfire is not uncommon. The day after Obama was re-elected, he bought an AR-15 assault rifle for nearly $1,000. He noted: “If the thugs are going to have one, I’m going to have one too.” If he insists on referring to people in his neighborhood as thugs, people who need the kind of help and life his church can offer, he might as well be armed. And apparently he is.

On occasion, the article notes, McAbee wears two guns to church — the .40 on his hip and the .380 in the ankle holster. His wife also carries a concealed gun. Neither has a safety on the guns they carry, and they like to keep a bullet chambered.

“People think I’m a gun nut and gun crazy, but I’m not. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I believe the Bible teaches peace. But that doesn’t mean I should let them hurt me,” he said.

That’s like saying: “I believe the Bible teaches peace. But I don’t actually believe in trying it for myself.”

Imagine if Jesus had said, “My way is peace, and how dare you lay a finger on me, Pilate! I’m locked and loaded, baby!”

I invite you to read the rest of the story and draw your own conclusions.There’s been obviously tons of talk about guns of late, beginning with the Newtown tragedy and recent attempts at gun legislation. There are differing perspectives as to what the second amendment should mean today (or even meant originally).

Personally, I am amazed that someone who spent most of his adult life in prison and lost his own mother due to guns would have such a perspective. My own sense is that a ‘pistol-packing pastor’ is an oxymoron, and such an example doesn’t teach people anything about trusting in God, or about the way of Christ.

But I could be wrong about that.

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Filed under Church, Culture, Politics

Why Conservative Churches Attract Young People… or Not

“Catch my conservative drift there? No? Too much? Let’s take it again from the top.”

A fellow pastor recently wrote a recent column entitled, “Why Conservative Churches Attract Young People.”  My interest was immediately piqued, as someone who is also interested in helping people of all ages cultivate their spiritual lives, including ‘young people.’

In the post, Aaron Vriesman, who pastors a church on the north side of Holland, Michigan, begins: “As a 33 year-old minister in the CRC, I can say with both personal and professional experience that conservative churches do indeed draw young adults.  In particular, churches that have a self-consciously high view of Scripture, a commitment to the creeds and confessions, traditional stances on marriage and sexuality, and work to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ actually do draw young adults.”

I have no doubt that this is the case.  He goes on to note some of the reasons, some of which I agree with, and some of which I might view from a slightly different angle.

To provoke thought, the article is prefaced with:
“Why would young adults be attracted to conservative churches? Aren’t young adults more educated and scientific in their view of the world? Aren’t young adults more accepting of premarital sex and gay relationships? Aren’t young adults more interested in communities of dialogue than cold hard doctrine?”

That’s more like it.

I’ll let you read his reasons in full, so that I’m not taking any parts of this out of context. (quotes italicized)

  1. Young adults want authenticity.  All people, but young people especially, appreciate people who are up front about who they are and what they are about.  As advertisements everywhere attempt to lure people into spending money with attractive images and promises, young people are constantly being played.  Give it to me straight.  Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.  Tell me where you stand and then I can form my own opinion.  Don’t be a jerk about it, but at least be honest. Some churches shy away from Bible passages that might offend certain groups or avoid verses about God’s judgment because it makes God appear unloving.  Conservative churches with a higher view of Scripture are not shy about anything the Bible says.  They will read and preach on the uncomfortable Bible texts.  Even those that equate divorce with adultery, tell wives to submit to husbands and spell out horrifying disaster for sinners. Since conservative churches are not worried about political correctness of any kind, they present the true God and Jesus Christ in all authenticity, with (what some would say) “warts” and all.  Even if some young adults disagree with what they hear, they usually respect a straightforward message without spin.

    My response.
      I agree, young adults want authenticity.  Aaron correctly notes that our culture has much shallow, get-your-attention-and-your-dollars gimmicky stuff going on.  Something deeper and more substantive does indeed have a certain draw.He notes, “Give it to me straight.  Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.” He goes on to note that conservative churches don’t shy away from certain biblical texts. His examples consist of divorce, submission of women to their husbands, and judgment for sin (read between the lines: hell).  How can they be so daring as to talk about things so culturally against the grain?  Because “they’re not worried about political correctness of any kind.”

    I’d like to push back slightly.  There is indeed a culture that would take issue with people equating divorce with adultery, with endorsing repressive measures against women, and with fire-and-brimstone theology.  So in this sense, yes, these conservative churches are ‘against the grain.’  But let’s think about context for a moment.  Vriesman preaches in West Michigan in a very conservative area, in a very conservative congregation, likely among largely rural congregants who grew up in such a conservative milieu.  So in fact, what he is saying should be turned around.  In his context, preaching these things is exactly what people want and expect to hear.  It is not against the grain.  It is politically-correct, because if he were to suddenly start preaching a more progressive message that divorce is much more complicated than simply equating it with adultery (which everyone knows intuitively, but has to listen to repeated sermons to be convinced otherwise), that God loves everyone including divorced folks, that women and men should equally respect each other, and that perhaps our view of God ought to transcend a Puritan, fire-breathing, sinners-in-the-hands-of an angry God—if this was his approach, he would be questioned.  In his environment, sticking with a conservative approach is exactly the politically correct thing to do.

    He goes on to say that this approach communicates to people ‘the true God’ and Jesus Christ ‘in all authenticity.’ Hmmm… The hubris to assume your view and only your view displays God as he actually is (rather than our ideas of God) is in fact the kind of thing that causes young people outside of the bubble he is operating in to flee from churches.  Because they know it simply isn’t true, if anyone has taken the time to really wrestle with and engage traditions outside of their own, be it any of the many other Christian traditions, as well as other faiths. (See the excerpt of Chapter 6 of my book, An (Un)Safe Place, on Patheos).

    In fact, many of these conservative churches supposedly teaching about Jesus ‘in all authenticity,’ often fail to communicate the Jesus who taught us to love our neighbor as ourselves, to love our enemies, to practice reconciliation at all costs, to respond to violence with forgiveness.  These same churches consistently favor a militaristic approach to foreign policy, which looks like anything but ‘the authentic Jesus’, they often favor social policies that marginalize the poorest and weakest in our society, and one could go on. The point being that there is a healthy diversity of thought on what it means to follow ‘the real Jesus,’ and you better have a seat next to the angels in heaven before you claim to alone have insight into ‘the true God.’

    So back to the initial point: I agree young people want authenticity. I think all people do. The examples mentioned may well be authentic, but they hardly put conservative churches in sole possession of authenticity.

  1. Young adults want to know the real God.  Many people today build their own gods with the bits and pieces they like from various sources, but what is God really like?  Some churches present Scripture as human writing, introducing Biblical texts with, “Paul says…” or “David says…”  Conservative churches will say, “The Lord says…” or “God’s Word tells us…” Human opinions are a dime a dozen, but the Bible is not another human opinion.  It is God’s truth, and so it is worth getting up early on a weekend to hear.

    My response. 
    “Many people today built their own gods with bits and pieces they like from various sources.” Yes they do. Sources like the Heidelberg Catechism, or John Calvin, Saint Augustine, or various Bible passages. WE ARE ALL guilty of doing this.  Me too.  Can we do otherwise?  In our discussion at the pub the other night we asked, “Do we sometimes confuse our idea(s) of God with God?”  The answer, regardless of our approach, is YES. We are human beings, therefore it is impossible we will (in this life), have a pure, unfiltered view of who God is.  To say anything less is dishonest.

    Does that mean we are in the dark? Not at all. We do have the Scriptures, we have the witness of various theological traditions through history, and so on.  But it is only honest to acknowledge that there exists, and has always existed, a multiplicity of such traditions, even in biblical times.  The Bible itself is not always in agreement with itself.  Vriesman notes, “Some churches present Scripture as human writing…” as if this is some sort of indictment.  Scripture is human writing!  Perhaps he forgot his seminary training, that a Reformed view of the inspiration of Scripture is organic:  God’s Spirit at work through human beings, including all of their own personalities, character, humanity, and setting.  And of course, humanity is humanity. Broken, flawed, with a perspective inescapably rooted in one’s own self. To pretend that we don’t have to say, “Paul said… this,” but “Isaiah writes this…” is to miss out on fully understanding the very means God chose to use to communicate himself to us!  To simply say, “God says… ____,” without doing the hard work of understanding what God was saying originally in and through the very human authors, in and through its very context and to its first hearers, is to endanger one to presumptively miss out on what God is saying today, all the while claiming to speak for “the real God.”  (See my earlier post: What I meant to sayfor a discussion on the complicated reality of communication and interpretation, then and now).

    Young people can see through such unnuanced approaches, and are decreasingly satisfied with them.  More and more young people do want to know God as he really is, which is why they aren’t satisfied to sit in the pew and be told that we know exactly who God and what he is like. They are not satisfied with being told: “you’re not allowed to do any spiritual exploration on your own outside our own doctrinal boundaries, because that is ‘dangerous’.”  Such fear of exploration may well betray the fact that one doesn’t really believe what one claims to believe. And of course, the implication that conservative churches are the only place to encounter ‘the real God’ implies that any other sort of church will only connect you with something less. My experience (and many others), would say that God can be met in a variety of settings.
  1. Young adults hunger for meaning beyond themselves.  The mainstream culture’s gospel of toleration and acceptance is loud and constant. While this can be a smooth elixir to swallow, the net result is a sour stomach of uncertainty and meaninglessness.  Is there anything that is truly right and wrong?  Is life’s ultimate goal just being nice to everybody and never rock the boat?  Hearing about the ultimate truth from God’s own Word gives a measure of meaning beyond popular opinion and greater than our own selves.  Truth that confirms what we already feel and believe only betrays itself as our own personal truth. Truth greater than ourselves by definition will challenge our views, prick our hearts, cause us to humble ourselves and submit to God’s way. As awkward and unpopular as God’s way might be, its superior source and loving purpose is compelling.

    My response. 
    “The mainstream culture’s gospel of toleration and acceptance is loud and constant.”  Good!  Then perhaps the message of Jesus has been getting through.  Jesus tolerated and accepted people, people who were regularly dismissed from access to God through the religious institutions of the day: the poor, the prostitutes, the tax collectors, those labeled “sinners.”  The people he had the most problem with were the religious ones who didn’t practice the ‘toleration’ and ‘acceptance’ Jesus knew God extends toward all his broken humanity.  Apparently it gives this writer a ‘sour stomach’ to imagine that we should practice such love, tolerance, and acceptance.

    To go from this initial point to asking, ‘Is there anything that is truly right and wrong?’ is a complete disconnect. Extending God’s love doesn’t mean anything goes. It means everyone is welcome. It means we become the love of God on display.  And as we do that, people begin to experience healing to their brokenness, and consider ways to begin living in wholeness and newness.  And, this writer forgets, when we act in this way, it does rock the boat.  Jesus accepted and loved such people, and was constantly berated by the institution that claimed to speak for God: “This man welcomes sinners, and eats with them.”  “This one is a drunkard and a glutton.”

    I agree with his final point, that truth greater than ourselves will challenge our views and prick our hearts.  I’m simply wondering whether such truth is ever spoken in the kinds of communities he seems to be representing.  Would Jesus, himself a young person, be welcome in these churches with his radical displays of love and acceptance?
  1. Young adults resonate with sin. They are familiar with the suffering that comes from broken relationships, dead-end jobs, brittle commitments and love with strings attached.  Even a self-centered and narcissistic generation like mine has burning questions about why so many awful things happen in the world.  Preaching the reality of sin has a way of bringing light to the elusive suffering that is so apparent everywhere.  Some churches might call for awareness, dialogue, or assistance programs in response to the world’s problems. Some young adults are attracted to this because they feel the ache of sin and want to solve its problems.  But such human efforts mostly produce fatigue and frustration.  Sin, according to the Bible, is actually a spiritual problem that cannot be defeated by human efforts.  The truth, pure and simple, is that we need a Savior.  Instead of trying harder, we conquer sin in ourselves only as much as we trust God to work through us.  This leads us to open ourselves to God’s grace that comes by faith.  Grace calls for human activity, but activity that is motivated by thanksgiving and love for God, not a better world as an end in itself.

    My response. 
    Here I have a lot of agreement with the author. Many of us are indeed familiar with the suffering that comes from the things he notes.  Suffering that comes from inside of us, as well as suffering that is far beyond any one of us (famine, natural disasters, war, etc).  He notes that “some churches might call for awareness, dialogue, or assistance programs.”  His solution is simply to “preach the reality of sin,” because if we do all this hard work of increasing awareness, discussing solutions, and working toward improving things will result simply in ‘a better world as an end in itself.’  Imagine.  A better world?  Is that it?  Let’s stop before we get to that point.  Let’s instead focus on ‘spiritual problems.’  I agree that humanity is sinful and broken.  I agree that God brings healing through Jesus.  However, I balk at the notion that ‘a better world’ is not an end in itself, and that nothing can change unless we remind everyone that we can’t actually do anything.  In fact, if we paid attention, we’d see that non-Christians everywhere are working hard to effect real change in our world, and we would do well to begin to partner with them, rather than hide in our circles commiserating with each other over the futility of it all.
  1. Not all conservative churches attract young adults.  Some conservative churches simply attempt to hold on to the past.  Those that recoil at different ministry tactics or refuse to try the newer (or older) worship music reflect the idolatry of comfort zones, which undermines the gospel’s power even if it is accurately presented from the pulpit. The key component of conservative churches that attract young adults is the visible display of God’s love. Before and after worshiping together, the love of God is visible in the way people greet and speak to one another. People of a different color or socio-economic class are welcomed with the same smiles and greetings as everyone else. Truths are held without compromise but questions and discussions are always welcome because that is how we learn. The conservative moral standards are used to encourage sinners in their emerging faith, not as merit badges of superiority.

    My response. 
    Agreed!  Not all conservative churches attract young adults.  But neither do all progressive churches. Or all of any kind of church.  I also agree that the key component in a church attracting young adults is the visible display of God’s love.  However, I think it goes far beyond creating a welcoming environment over coffee before and after the service.  It comes not in simply being nice to someone ‘of a different color.’  It comes not by trumpeting our ‘conservative truths and moral standards.’  It comes by people living in genuine community throughout the week, people who can rely upon each other (and I know this often is practiced very well in conservative churches), but also by people living sacrificially on behalf of a broken world. People like the early church, who modeled Christ’s teaching by having everything in common, by taking in the poor, by suffering to declare that the way of a suffering Jewish teacher was superior to the way of Rome and Caesar.

    He notes in the end that ‘questions and discussions are always welcome because that is how we learn.’ This seems at odds with his earlier comments which dismiss dialogue in favor of preaching and ‘cold hard doctrine.’  I agree, we learn when we honestly engage views differently from our own, when we admit we haven’t figured everything out, least of all God. This approach, in my own experience, is refreshing to young people who have too often experienced the opposite.


The article closes as follows:
“At the end of the day, people need to see that God’s truth as well as his grace and love are more than theoretical beliefs. God is true and his Son Jesus Christ is mighty to save. Churches that show Jesus Christ is real will always attract people of all ages
.”

I might articulate something more along these lines:
“At the end of the day, people need to experience the reality of God’s love and grace through communities seeking to embody the way of Jesus, the prophet and rabbi who declared that the ‘Kingdom of God is at hand.’  Churches that really seek to follow Jesus will attract people of all ages, but will not necessarily be popular.”


What do you think?  Do conservative churches attract young people?  Can we make such sharp delineations as ‘conservative’ and ‘progressive’ or ‘liberal’ among churches?  Is this a useful approach?  What might draw you to a particular community of faith? What might keep you away?

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Transition: DC

We have it in our power to begin the world over again.
~Thomas Paine

My wife and I are facing the daunting task of moving the family to Washington D.C. for the uncertain project of starting a new ministry.

Some needed caffeine on the train

I took the train out here a week ago with the goal of finding somewhere to live.  We are blessed to have friends who live in the beltway just outside of the city, so I had somewhere to sleep while looking at housing options. They have a wonderful home, a great dog, and more importantly, are wonderful people. And as a bonus: they appreciate good beer.

This has allowed me to not feel too far away from home, as we’ve had great conversation with wonderful people, and inevitably a good brew in hand.

From hanging out with environmental types to non-profit leaders to lawyers to bar tenders, interns, and others, it’s been fun to get a taste of life in the District.  It is good to know that there are a bunch of great pubs and gathering places, and that they are filled with people who are seeking conversation and community.  I think I’ll survive.

One place we hit was The Big Board, which has an ongoing screen that tallies whatever beer is the most popular on a given night.  The more popular the beer is that night, the lower the price for a pint is.  So it was fun to see what was on the board, and how things were shaking out.  I believe it was an Allaghash White at the top of the board, with the usual top contender, New Belgium’s Ranger IPA (Ft Collins, CO) a bit lower down.  I tried a local brew: Chocolate City Brewery’s Nitro Copper.

To new friends!

We also hit a German Biergarten, which had a delightful patio straight out of Munich.

Another spot that served delicious Belgium brews was Granville Moore’s, a dingy, hole-in-the-wallish place (but a great vibe) on H Street with a limited menu of mussels and frites but a first-rate beer selection.  I tried some heavy-hitters: The Allaghash Curieux and the Gaverhopke Extra.  Also tasted a Gueuze Tilquin and my host’s favorite: the Oude Gueuze by Hansenns from Dworp, Belgium.  There we had delightful conversation with the pastor of a local historic Lutheran congregation, and we enjoyed talking about ministry, transition, and life in the city.

Last night we had a ‘farm night’ in the neighborhood I’m staying in, in which various friends from the neighborhood and across the city gathered to eat food they’ve prepared, from ingredients either grown locally or purchased at a local farmer’s market.  There were even some venison steaks from Michigan involved!  Delightful conversation happened around the dining room table and in the wooded yard, and it was great to learn about what people here care about and are doing with their lives.

Much as we may wish to make a new beginning, some part of us resists doing so as though we were making the first step toward disaster.

~William Bridges

Small kitchens are very common!

I’ve also spent most of my days getting to know the subway system (the Metro), walking neighborhoods, viewing houses and apartments for rent, and wondering how it’s all going to work out!

I’ve visited the NW, NE, SE, and SW parts of the city, and bits of Maryland and Virginia.  The common theme, even in the more depressed areas is: it’s expensive!  I really don’t know how anyone affords to live here.  I think often it is a matter of finding housemates who can help share the cost.  In any case, the city is an exciting place where a lot is happening, and many people from many different backgrounds, ethnicities, and socioeconomic statuses all live and work together.  We have sensed a calling to create a new faith community within this bustling, dynamic, and broken place.

To keep me busy (and help pay the bills), I’ve also applied for some writing/editing jobs, as well as a teaching position at Marymount University, to be an adjunct in Religious Studies.

I’ve ridden the Metro, driven through rush hour, walked long blocks and various alleys, visited tiny 2 BR apartments that were labeled “4 BR”, and found some genuinely workable options.  The challenge in all of it is that we are still in the process of fundraising (one-third of the way there!) and seeking out additional work options—so things are somewhat “to be determined,” which means we’re not quite ready to sign a lease that is going to run about triple what rental costs were in Traverse City.

When I think about my week, it runs from exhausting (lots of walking on pavement in late August heat) to exhilarating (meeting people from all walks of life and seeing the possibilities for a new faith community), and from frightening (why are we doing this again?) to fascinating (the diversity of people, places, and experiences here are endless).

Help us get to DC!

If you’d like to learn more about our ministry – visit Roots DC’s website.  To help us make the move and afford to live here, we are inviting people to partner with us – if you’d like to be a financial supporter, simply click the ‘donate’ button to make a tax-deductible gift!  (We’re looking for about 65 more people to join us who are willing to give $100/month, or $25/week). We also appreciate prayers for our family in this somewhat stressful time of transition.

I’ve seen a couple of good possibilities for a home for the family, but it looks like we need to get some more funding in place before we can sign a lease.  We’ll get out here soon, and even sooner with your help!

So here’s to new beginnings, life changes, good conversations, and, of course, good beer!

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Filed under Beer, Church, Relationships, Theology, Travels

Pub Theology Topics April 19

A nice, low-key evening at the pub last night.  In the cask was the Aztec Gold, a porter with chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla, and chipotle…  a spicy delicious combination.

We had some good conversations on the topics below:

1.    If the church is to have a future it must:
___________________________________.

2.    Without proper structures life will never grow.  Faith, naturally intuitive, cannot grow without a proper use of logic (structure).  Where there are lapses of faith, there are broken structures of logic.  Faith stretches our logic, and logic should create a space to experience our faith.

3.    “I relax and enjoy life.  I know that whatever I need to know is revealed to me in the perfect time and space sequence.”

4.    This offends me: _________________________.

5.  Humanism or atheism is a wonderful philosophy of life as long as you are big, strong, and between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five. But watch out if you are in a lifeboat and there are others who are younger, bigger, or smarter.

The first topic was in light of Andrew Sullivan’s recent article in Newsweek about the crisis in Christianity.

What do you think?  Is the church in trouble?  What must it do going forward?

I have to say that I highly enjoyed a couple of response pieces:

Diana Butler Bass:  A Resurrected Christianity?

and

Scott Paeth:  The Power of the Powerless

Thanks to Tony Jones for pointing out those responses.  He has more on his blog:  Theoblogy:  What Crisis in Christianity?!?

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Filed under Beer, Pub Theology, Readings, Theology

What Would Jesus Deconstruct?

Taken from chapter 1 of John D. Caputo’s What Would Jesus Deconstruct:

a good book

Posed in the subjunctive, what would Jesus do or deconstruct, the question turns on the structure of the archive, of memory and repetition.  How does the New Testament preserve the memory of Jesus?  I prescind from all historical-critical questions here, which open up another abyss (about the arche itself).  One abyss at a time!  I treat the New Testament as an “archive,” a depository of memories, which presents a certain way to be, a certain “poetics” —  not a politics or an ethics or a church dogmatics — that I like to call a “poetics of the kingdom,” which lays claim to us and which calls for a transformation into existence.

How are we to translate this soaring poetics into reality?  Were this figure of Jesus, who is the centerpiece of this poetics, or theo-poetics, to return today, what would he look like?  An illegal immigrant?  A child dying of AIDS?  A Vatican bureaucrat?  And what do we imagine he would expect of us here and now?  The question calls for a work of application, interpretation, interpolation, imagination, and self-interrogation, and all that is risky business.  To interpret is always a high-wire act, balancing oneself on a line stretched across an abyss and in constant danger of constructing idols of its own imagining.  The name of “Jesus” is too often a mirror in which we behold our own image, and it has always been easy to spot the sliver in the eye of the other and miss the two-by-four in our own.  The question presupposes the inescapable reality of history and of historical distance, and it asks how that distance can be crossed.  Or better, conceding that this distance cannot be crossed, the question resorts to the subjunctive and asks how that irreducible distance could be made creative.

cracks let the light in

How does our distance from Jesus illuminate what he said and did in a different time and place and under different historical circumstances?  And how does Jesus’ distance from us illuminate what we must say and do in the importantly different situation in which we find ourselves today?  The task of the church is to submit itself to this question, rather than using it like a club to punish others.

The church, the archive of Jesus, in a very real sense is this question.

It has no other duty and no other privilege than to bear this memory of Jesus and ask itself this question.  The church is not the answer.  The church is the question, this question, the gathering of people who are called together by the memory of Jesus and who ask this question, who are called together and are put into question by this question, who stand accused, under the call, interrogated and unable to recuse themselves from this question, and who come to understand that there are no easy, ready-made, prepackaged answers.

hurley!

The early church is a lot like the characters in the hit TV series Lostthe title is appropriate!-- waiting to be “saved,” which is the soteriological significance of that show where everyone is given a new being, a fresh start.  At first, the survivors hang around on the beach waiting to get “picked up” (in a cloud, St. Paul said).  After a while, they conclude that the rescue is not going to happen anytime soon and so they reluctantly decide to dig in and prepare for the long haul.  Hence the existence of the church is provisional – like a long-term substitute teacher – praying for the kingdom, whose coming Jesus announced and which everyone was expecting would come sometime soon.

But this coming was deferred, and the church occupies the space of the “deferral,” of the distance or “difference,” between two comings.  (I just said, in case you missed it, the church is a function of différance!) In the meantime, and it is always the meantime for the church, the church is supposed to do the best it can to bring that kingdom about itself, here on earth, in a process of incessant self-renewal or auto-deconstruction, while not setting itself up as a bunch of kings or princes.  The church is by definition a call (kletos) for renewal.

deconstructable

That is why the church is “deconstructable,” but the kingdom of God, if there is such a thing, is not.  The church is a provisional construction, and whatever is constructed is deconstructible, while the kingdom of God is that in virtue of which the church is deconstructible.

So, if we ask, “What would Jesus deconstruct?” the answer is first and foremost: the church!

For the idea behind the church is to give way to the kingdom, to proclaim and enact and finally disappear into the kingdom that Jesus called for, all the while resisting the temptation of confusing itself with the kingdom.  That requires us to clear away the rhetoric and get a clear picture of what “deconstruction” means, of just who “Jesus” is, and of the hermeneutic force of this “would,” and to do so with this aim:  to sketch a portrait of an alternative Christianity, one that is as ancient as it is new, one in which the “dangerous memory of Jesus” is still alive – deconstruction being, as I conceive it, a work of memory and imagination, of dangerous memories as well as daring ways to imagine the future, and as such good news for the church.

–Post any thoughts or comments below–

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Talking $h*t in Church

So, in the course of giving my message at church today, I managed to swear.  Actually, to be fair, I was quoting a book in which the author was quoting herself swearing.  So I was actually at least twice removed from actually swearing myself.  But nonetheless, the words came out in the reading of the story, and the truth is, I skipped over where it said shit, supplying the usual ‘blank’, and reduced goddamn to just plain damn.  So don’t call me insensitive.

The story was about a conflict.  And in choosing to use the words the author herself spoke, I was hoping to bring us into the depth of the situation.  Allowing things to unfold as she experienced it herself had the potential to draw us into the raw ugliness of the moment.

But for some, I imagine, it was perhaps a bit too raw.

I mean, church, after all, is the place we can go and know we won’t encounter this kind of language.  We’re surrounded by it throughout the week, whether at work or on television, or, dare we admit it – uttered ourselves.  But at least for an hour on Sunday morning, we can have respite.

We can have the gloriously clean language expected in a church service.

Then the pastor has to go and fuck it all up.  (Is typing it as bad as saying it?)

Suddenly mothers are covering their children’s ears, people who weren’t listening nearly get whiplash spinning their heads toward the front, and for some, perhaps this just was beyond the pale, and for their own sanity they will choose to attend a worship venue that has the decency to respect the dignity of its hearers.

I sympathize with those who felt this was entirely inappropriate.  I wrestled with actually saying it, knowing full well not everyone would appreciate it.  But to be honest, I kind of forgot it was in there until I was reading it again, and it just felt right to say it.  To let the author speak.  To allow the emotion of the conflict be felt by everyone.

And I wonder if perhaps this reflects a (mis)perception we have of the church.  As long as the church and the liturgical hour of worship remains a bastion of purity and decent behavior, I can get by with the language and behavior I encounter and use myself throughout the week.  I might swear regularly at home or at work, but when I’m at church, goddamnit, there better be clean language.  So the church acts as a convenient fiction which allows individuals to continue their own inappropriate behavior, so long as they know the structure in which they seek forgiveness for this very behavior exists and maintains a certain ‘code of conduct.’

a necessary fracture?

Yet what if keeping Sunday morning clean perpetuates the very behavior we might full well prefer not to be committing?  What if it is the release valve that allows the otherwise intolerable behavior we commit to continue?

When you encounter it at church, worlds collide, and you are actually face to face with the depth of your own brokenness, not to mention perhaps a bit embarrassed to hear this in front of all your pious church going friends, who you will momentarily join in the foyer over coffee, shaking your head about the pastor who is such an asshole, leaving aside the very real possibility that you’ll go out to a film together later that same day where such inappropriate language is a matter of course.

So perhaps we need to occasionally ‘break the spell’ of church as this pious shelter in which our fictional holy selves can continue to exist.  By bringing in our real experiences in life throughout the week, isn’t there a greater chance that the behavior we aspire to live into, the people we actually want to become, might gain greater traction?

It’s just a hunch, but, by golly, I think perhaps dropping the f-bomb at church today might have created a holy (Spirit) moment, albeit a slightly uncomfortable one.


(listen to the message: A Necessary Rupture?)

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