:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

Continuing my meditations on the Gospel of Mark…

Before we begin… This past Monday I opened my meditations document on the Gospel of Mark and found a blank page for Mark 11. Mark 12-16 was all typed out and edited. So I opened my written journal and found two pages of questions related to Mark 11, but I didn’t find any conclusions or thoughts for my meditations.

Mark 11 is a tough passage. I won’t hit everything of significance here, but I think I have a few things to consider based on a few days of struggling with this chapter. On to the meditation:

As Jesus approached Jerusalem with the certainty that death awaited him (Mark 10:33-34), he adopted a symbolic action to declare his role as Messiah while still challenging the expectations of the people without riding in to Jerusalem to take over. He simply borrowed a donkey, rode in to the praises of the people, looked around a bit, and then left.

I wonder how deflated his disciples felt that day?

Whatever their expectations, Jesus took action the next day with real God-given authority by driving out the merchants from the table. While he challenged the authority of the religious leaders, whose authority in this chapter clearly relied on popular support, Jesus didn’t want to take over their roles. He attacked their authority, but refused to worship God on their terms.

Framing this clearing of the temple is a little visual lesson of sorts about prayer involving a fig tree. While the fig tree may also represent the coming fall of Jerusalem about forty years from the time of Jesus, in the immediate context Jesus was also teaching his disciples about prayer.

At a time when Jesus and his disciples waited for the prediction of Jesus’ death to come true, Jesus encouraged them to pray with boldness and to trust that God could answer their prayers. Though Jesus could not find a way to avoid his road to the cross, he still believed completely in the ability of God to answer prayer, and he used the fig tree as an example.

We also see in this passage some hints that Jesus derived his authority from God and may have been rather poor. He had to borrow a donkey for his big entrance and he sought figs from the tree because he was hungry in the morning. Why didn’t his hosts provide breakfast?

This is a bit of speculation here, but for readers in an American context where money equals God’s blessing, Jesus may have entered Jerusalem with hardly anything to his name. However, he still exercised his God-given authority among the religious leaders who had significant resources.

It could very well be the case that Jesus ministered out of poverty, if not a very limited budget. However, he didn’t let his earthly position influence God’s mission. In fact, his lack of earthly qualifications almost seemed to be an asset by the time the religious leaders challenged his authority at the end of the chapter.

Jesus drew his identity, authority, and power from God. His borrowed donkey, humble procession, and empty stomach did not deter him from the work God set for him. His confidence rested solely in the power of God and the possibilities of prayer.

It’s possible to search for the cure without seeking out the source of the remedy. It’s possible to crave something good while missing the one way to receive it.

I used to read the following passage as a lesson in loving the Bible more than God, but there’s something deeper going on. Have a look:

You diligently study the Scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life. These are the Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life. John 5:39-40

Jesus told the Jewish leaders that they were not only fixated on the Bible, but on finding life in the Bible. While their devotion to the Bible instead of God was problematic, there’s something even more problematic. They searched the scriptures seeking everlasting life without seeking Jesus, the source of that life.

They had a good goal, but they failed to pursue the correct means. They could study the scriptures, but their quest for eternal life would fall short unless the scriptures pointed them to Jesus.

It is a good thing to seek eternal life, whether that’s freedom from sin today or the hope of an eternity with God. However, by seeking eternal life, personal holiness, or studying scripture in and of itself, we will fall short.

It’s not good to crave holiness or eternal life without craving to be with Jesus above either goal. Even these good goals can cloud our relationship with him.

In seeking Jesus first we will find the life of holiness and the relationship with God that we desire. Seeking life in the scriptures will not give us what we crave. The scriptures point us to Jesus, and until we desire Jesus above everything else, we’ll never know the fullness of the life he gives.

Bonnie over at Faith Barista has some great thoughts from the past week about where trouble fits into God’s plans. It’s quite a controversial topic, especially when folks start to tie personal tragedies and other crises with the plans of God for their lives. It’s tempting to think that God throws trouble at us

Bonnie wrapped up her post, which you should read in full, with the following statement:

“I don’t totally think that God puts trouble into our plans.
I think God does His work in spite of the trouble.”

I wrote the following in the comments:

“While I agree completely with the thought that God would not bring affliction to us, I think he does ask us to make difficult choices and to pass through hard times as a result of them. I don’t know how that all works out exactly, but Paul, for instance, was told point blank that he would be arrested in Jerusalem, but he also knew he had to go. In other words, God asks us to pass through hard times even if he’s not necessarily the source of the hard times, and he will not abandon us.”

Bonnie appreciated the comment and asked me to elaborate on this a bit more, which I’m happy to do.

There are two kinds of difficulties we need to discuss here: Trouble and the difficulties that come from discipleship. Let’s take a brief look at both of them.

Trouble and the Problem of Evil in the World

This is a tough topic, but in brief, I would say that evil springs from the sin in our world and in people in particular. God does not tempt us or smite people, at least in light of the New Testament we see a God who no longer sends hail and such from heaven.

I know there’s a whole bunch of troubling OT passages that make this a tough topic, but I think we can agree on a few things:

1. God desires all people to be saved and warns people about the consequences of their actions.
2. We’ll never completely understand things such as the flood or the conquest of Canaan. We can take cracks at explaining these events, but we’ll never be fully satisfied with the mystery of these passages. It’s hard to figure out just how involved God was in these events.
3. Jesus reveals God’s commitment to self-sacrifice and reconciliation.
4. The future that God pictures for us is one free from suffering and characterized by peace.

In other words, when something bad happens to us, it’s most likely not a good thing to blame God for “bringing” it to us. There are any number of reasons why bad things happen. Sometimes we place ourselves in bad situations, other times we are the victims of someone else’s sin, and still other times we suffer because we live in an imperfect world that is tainted by sin and cries out for the restoring touch of the creator.

The Difficulties that Come from Discipleship

While God does not send calamity or terrible things to us, he does push us toward the path he himself traveled: that of costly discipleship where we count the cost and take up our crosses. God may send us to calamity—what we could call the cross. God is not vengeful and angry, but he does ask us to give up our lives for the sake of knowing him more deeply and in order to tell others about his good news.

As we let go of what is fading we can posses what lasts forever. However, choosing the path of discipleship may be uncomfortable and may even lead us into uncomfortable or hard situations.

While God does not afflict us, our comfort is not his primary concern. He wants us to know him intimately, to depend on him, and to let go of the useless things we trust in. Guiding us to that goal is often messy and hard.

Jesus didn’t spare his disciples from difficulties. In fact, he predicted that they would suffer because of their allegiance to him. That isn’t to say that God brought trouble to their lives directly, but that God sent them out to complete his work and there’s no doubt that God’s mission is hazardous and difficult.

That’s the cost of discipleship.

I have now passed the second week of my Lenten fast from internet use in the evening and on Sundays. I can use my computer, but cannot go online for  e-mail, social networking, and general browsing. While my first week was both joyful and easy, the second week required a bit more will-power.

Part of the problem has been a nasty cold that has only lifted completely until today. It’s really tempting to sit and kill time on the internet when you don’t feel able to form a coherent thought. Have I mentioned that my wife is very, very glad that I’m feeling better and am now able to communicate?

I didn’t do as good a job with my time management this past week because I’ve felt so awful. This meant that sometimes I’d forgotten to take care of something important online during the day. When 6 PM came and I hadn’t finished up my online work, I had to stop. It was really tough to tell myself that I couldn’t check my e-mail or follow up on a few things.

Though the process was a bit unpleasant, I had to answer a rather basic question. Did I trust God with my day? Did I really need to send that e-mail, or could it wait until tomorrow, leaving the outcome with God?

Surprise, surprise, nothing terrible happened when I couldn’t send my e-mails or browse online for what I needed. In fact, roughly half of the times I check the internet there really isn’t anything of great consequence there, at least, nothing that couldn’t wait a few hours.

I think part of the drawback of the immediacy that comes with online tools is the sense of control we have. We can respond to things immediately, taking action, and keeping busy without waiting. Everything becomes important because it can be addressed now, and therefore we heighten our sense of control and coordination but at the same time fall to the tyranny of the urgent.

I’m still a rather fragmented person, but in seeking out some quiet time away from the internet I continue to cultivate a more wholesome approach to life, to write a lot more, and to read a bit more as well. Provided that I’m not laid out on the couch with a head cold, I’m generally able to chat with my wife. Not bad for week two.

Continuing my series on the Gospel of Mark at 10:32-52…

After saying that the last will come first and issuing a call to costly discipleship, Jesus reminded his astonished disciples of his impending death while the surrounding crowds remained fearful of what would happen in Jerusalem. The details are precise, showing that Jesus embraced God’s calling and cost while those around him remained uncertain. After speaking of the last coming first and importance of following him, Jesus reminded his disciples where he was going.

It was one thing to follow Jesus when he seemed to be restoring the rule of God over Israel but the path to the cross wasn’t where the rich tended to follow, nor those who wanted to advance their stations in life. However, even while Jesus spoke of his death, James and John could not give up their dreams of power and influence in God’s Kingdom.

Perhaps James and John wanted an assurance of their position before Jesus was killed, but however we examine this story, they come across as unlike children and the least likely to be last. They had left much behind but expected something more than persecution and eternal life for their trouble.

Instead of approaching Jesus with open hands to accept what he had to give, they placed an unrealistic request that not only alienated them from Jesus but their fellow disciples. Jesus showed them incredible mercy and gentleness, listening to their request and then gracefully denying it.

On one hand, their request was reckless, asking for things they did not understand. Sometimes an unanswered prayer may result from such an oversight. Perhaps a denial of a prayer request is an act of mercy from God.

All that Jesus could guarantee them was suffering, not a position at the top of the Kingdom. While they would not have recognized this, he was telling them how to be first in the Kingdom—following his path to the cross. The only guarantee of any position in the Kingdom was through faithfulness.

It’s hard to say whether the top places in the Kingdom of God were prepared for specific people or were simply unknown until the disciples proved themselves faithful in following the way of Jesus. However, blessings and rewards are not given out in the ways James and John expected—a kind of favor among friends. While the disciples could do nothing on their own to merit a place in the Kingdom, entering the Kingdom required embracing the calling of Jesus and remaining faithful to it.

The cross, resurrection, and the resulting eternal life were only possible because Jesus lead the way down that lonely road to Jerusalem. The only way to pass into that eternal life, that we could never merit or earn, is by following Jesus to the cross and into eternal life. It is hard to enter a Kingdom that gives life to the least of these when we are committed to the values of a completely different kingdom and way of living.

Bartimaeus creates an interesting contrast to James and John. While he too wanted to receive something from Jesus, he immediately used his new-found vision to join Jesus. We can suspect that James and John wanted a prominent position for the use of ruling, not serving in the way of Jesus. Jesus continued to serve anyone from a beggar to a couple of selfish disciples, and in the case of Bartimaeus he gained another disciple willing to count the cost and follow him.

Two years after writing Coffeehouse Theology I can see that I made a few mistakes, but as I read other books on theology and culture, I find that I’m still very satisfied with what I wrote. In fact, for the most part I still agree with myself, if you’ll permit me to speak in such silly terms.

I’d like to reflect a little more about what I wrote two years, and why I still hold to the core issues in my book.

How to Approach Theology and Culture

Much ink has been spilled over the fusing of theology and culture, but I don’t think we can hit either extreme of fusing them together or ignoring culture in favor of scripture alone.

Culture cannot set the terms for how we understand God because that is reserved for God alone through his revelation. However, when we ignore culture we run the real risk of missing the lens of our culture and considering it normative for ourselves, for others, and even for God. In other words, finite humans with limited perspectives think more of their limited views than warranted.

Christians need to maintain a relevant and prophetic tension in relation to culture. We can’t ignore culture, but rather in understanding culture we aim to work within it in relevant ways, much like the writers of the Bible did (but that’s for another post), while maintaining a prophetic stance that is guided ultimately by God.

My Theology Diagram

Each chapter of Coffeehouse Theology is tied in with a diagram of theology and culture that locates all of theology within God’s mission to save us—a mission that has now become our own. That mission sends us into culture, which means that theology serves both our relationship with God and our calling to make him known to others.

What will we make known to others and how will we do it? that’s determined by the leading of God’s Spirit and the revelation of scripture. We also learn from our traditions and Christians both local and global, which brings us to my last point. 

The Sources of Theology

Theology is located in mission and culture, but the sources where we derive our theology include: God as source and guide, scripture as a normative guide, tradition, and Christians both local and global. While God and scripture are at the center of theology, possibly fused together or overlapping a bit, traditions and other believers are not quite as authoritative.

I see our traditions and other Christians providing two key functions. First of all, they help us determine the core of Christianity, what we could call orthodoxy, the rule of faith, mere Christianity, or the essential dogmas. Secondly, they help us overcome the limits of our context by showing how Christians in different contexts read the scripture and are led by the Spirit.

The Feedback I’ve Received

While I think I may have overwhelmed some readers with the breadth of information I cover, I have received plenty of positive notes saying that I helped clarify theology and culture for them, providing a way forward for them. I am absolutely convinced that Christianity can thrive today because our faith has passed through numerous cultures and conflicts and yet God’s Spirit continues to help us meet the challenges of each time and place.

Our hope is ultimately in the power of God and the leading of his Spirit. It has been my prayer throughout that this book would be a blessing to readers, helping them move closer to God.

Continuing my series of meditations on the Gospel of Mark…

The rich man who kneeled before Jesus provides a stark contrast to the ideal children Jesus used as an example of those who eagerly enter the Kingdom. In fact, this man illustrated how those who refused to become like children could easily miss out on the Kingdom.

He displayed a mix of sincerity in his devotion to Jesus and devotion to his possessions—the things that commanded his ultimate allegiance.

Though the disciples had a hard time understanding Jesus or giving up their dreams of power in his Kingdom, they had at least given up their material wealth to follow. The rich man wanted to be validated by Jesus, to find out that he had done things right. He didn’t come to Jesus like an open child, willing to receive whatever Jesus offered or asked him to do. He had a lifestyle or religious observance that he wanted Jesus to stamp with approval rather than challenge.

In his eyes he had kept the commandments and didn’t see what more should be done. Jesus shocked him by challenging him to sell his possessions, to give to the poor, and to follow him. He preferred to keep his current level of religious devotion rather than accepting the challenge given by Jesus.

For all of their failings, the disciples of Jesus learned that they had not only done the right thing in leaving their possessions behind in order to follow Jesus, but they also learned that that their sacrifices would be rewarded with blessings, persecutions, and eternal life. On the face of it, Jesus was asking the prosperous to give up what they had in order to receive both persecutions and life.

There would be a steep cost that came with a high reward. However, in order to come first they had to sacrifice and take last place.

In this passage we see the degrees of devotion in following Jesus. While children are the ideal, the disciples can see that they have part of the Kingdom correct by leaving their former lives behind for the sake of Jesus. The rich man is an example of another step away from the Kingdom since he had many possessions.

At least those without much to their name could hear what Jesus had to say, even if they sometimes sought a higher position and failed to imitate Jesus or come to him as children. Mistaken though they were at times, the disciples had a much easier time of eventually entering the Kingdom as children because of their devotion to Jesus. They didn’t have the same limitations as the rich man.

There is something to be said for leaving behind all that hinders in order to follow and to enter God’s Kingdom. The disciples took yet another step in that direction.

I’m leading a small group study of my book Coffeehouse Theology, and since I wrote the book two years ago I’m reading through a few chapters before leading the discussion each week. While the ideas are quite familiar, there are times when I’m jarred by meeting myself from two years ago.

There are two things I’ve noticed.

1. I’m a bit rough on other perspectives.

No matter how hard my editor tried to tone things down, I still made some strong statements that failed to capture what I really meant to say. In fact, I ended up sounding a bit angry or at least very frustrated at times in my sweeping, unqualified statements about other perspectives.

For example, in the Bible Study Guide, which I’m using for discussion questions in our group, I made a terrible blunder by saying, rather point blank, that the church ruins Easter for me. Ouch! Did I mean that? Well, not quite.

I meant to say that I and other Christians sometimes miss the forest for the trees when we lose sight of the significance of the Resurrection and spend our time on Easter Sunday preaching at the “unsaved Easter people” who show up at church once or twice a year and when we preach the mechanics of salvation, how each piece of redemption fits together. I’d much rather focus on the bigger message of the coming of God’s Kingdom and the significance of the resurrection itself. I meant to say that I made this mistake, but instead I come off as a smug theology student with an axe to grind.

I’m working on getting rid of my axes, but you never know when they may come up again…

2. I Covered Too Much Nonessential Information

I wrote Coffeehouse Theology wanting to not only explain everything behind my method of theology but also to give all the major thinkers I referenced their due—like a good seminary student. While I deleted the section on Nietchze, I can now see that even my pared down chapters on philosophy, theology, and culture were too much in a book that was supposed to make theology accessible.

I probably should have reworked the material to give a basic overview of where I’m coming from and then focused more on how to do theology with more information in an appendix at the end. I clung to so much nonessential information because I feared leaving gaps in the book’s progression. Unfortunately my measures to fill in gaps created some walls in the process.

In summing up…

It’s easy for a writer to forget his tone and to become lost in the importance of his information—thereby including more than is necessary. While I’ve heard from many readers who thought I hit the right balance of information, I think the average Christian reader, my target audience, will feel a bit overwhelmed by what I included. It’s always humbling to encounter yourself from a point in the past, but I’m also encouraged that I’m learning, growing, and hopefully taking steps that will ensure I don’t repeat those same mistakes again.

A few days ago  I read a blog post by someone who had some questions about the nature of the relief work in Haiti. This person asked whether we really are saving these people for a better life, or are we going to save them and then abandon them to die in some other way. And in light of the odds of the survival of some even with our relief work, should we even bother?

That, at least, is my interpretation of what this blogger had to say.

I’m sure you’re feeling a bit of the tension here. Some may wonder, how could someone say that? I was thinking of entering a comment, but as I read the thread of comments that followed the post, something that I didn’t feel l should add to, I learned something very significant about this blogger.

This person has not only struggled with addiction but also with suicide. There have been occasions on which this person thought it would be much better to die. Death didn’t seem all that haunting or terrible. In fact, death is an escape from the pain of this world.

It would have been easy to write this person off as lacking compassion or worse based on the post’s leading question, but once we answer the question, “Why would you say that?” we understand that this question is rising out of some very deep, embedded thinking from this person’s past.

I shudder at both the nature of such thinking and at the possibility that I could have very well begun to challenge this person without a proper understanding of where such thinking is coming from. I could have written off the experiences and challenges that this blogger faces without properly understanding and addressing them.

So I have two thoughts:

For starters, about the relief work, I think we have a lot to learn from the book When Helping Hurts. Relief work isn’t enough. We need to empower people by coming alongside them and helping them invest in their own development. So our work in Haiti isn’t simply a matter of stopping the bleeding and then abandoning. It should be a sustained approach. That’s my new criteria when searching for a worthy organization for my donations.

Secondly, I don’t want to offer pat answers to one person’s deepest pains, but so far as I can tell from scripture, God desires that we experience abundant life now—even the word “eternal” life in the Gospel of John carries this sense of abundant or overflowing in the original Greek. Jesus preached the coming of the Kingdom today, and so living in the Kingdom today is how we begin to move away from the pain of this world.

I can’t speak to this person’s situation exactly, so I don’t want to generalize, but the Good News of Jesus is that sin and death have been defeated and his Resurrection gives us new life. That means we go forward into our world of uncertainty, natural disasters, violence, and greed asking God to bring his Kingdom’s life to both ourselves and to others.

It’s not easy, and I don’t want to trivialize anyone’s experiences. However, speaking in the most general of terms, God desires that we will start living in the freedom of his Kingdom today. I pray that we can leave behind everything that hinders in order to enter that place of rest rather than any other poor substitute. Even if it’s a long, difficult road to freedom, I pray that we will get there.

While chatting with a fellow blogger about writing the other day, he asked me about my favorite writers and wondered in particular if I was a a fan of Donald Miller. Of course I was. You can’t be a Christian writer and NOT like Donald Miller.

Duh.

Now, here’s the dirty little secret about just about every Christian writer since Miller published his landmark, game-changing book Blue Like Jazz: we compare ourselves to Donald Miller in one way or another when pitching books and talking about fellow writers. “My proposed book is a theological memoir thriller pastiche of Donald Miller, Beth Moore, Snoopy, and The Left Behind Series…”

So I wasn’t surprised when he compared Sarah Cunningham to Miller. That’s just what we do.

I replied, “Yeah, you could say that.”

After reading Sarah Cunningham’s latest book In Search of Eden (note the cover image that our rabbit nibbled on, presumably to get to that dandelion), I wouldn’t say it’s an equal to Blue Like Jazz, but she has managed to write powerfully with her own voice and to share her thoughts in a very authentic and humorous way. In other words, she has found how to tell compelling stories as Sarah Cunningham much like Donald Miller tells authentic stories as Donald Miller. You don’t feel like you’re reading a Miller clone, but you do have someone who knows how to tell a good story, to share self-deprecating scenarios, and to reflect on meeting God in the everyday scenes of life.

Basically, whenever you see a book with Sarah Cunningham’s name on it, you should consider buying it. She is one of the top writers in the Christian fold.

Overall

In Search of Eden is a great memoir that hits at the most basic issue for Christians: seeking God in midst of personal failures and faults. It’s particularly good vacation reading if you ask me, even if I take issue with a few points, as I’ll explain below.

Reviewing Two Books

The first two-thirds of In Search of Eden unfolds as a captivating spiritual memoir. I was hooked by Sarah’s stories of growing up in the church and figuring out what it means to follow Jesus. She has a way of relating typical Christian scenes without jargon and without a sense of déjà vu. As the stories unfold she issues gentle challenges, leads by example, and humbly admits her failings.

The last third of the book didn’t click with me. I’ve been through this over and over in my head, asked friends about what I’m missing, and got sick to my stomach over this part of the review. During the last third of In Search of Eden it felt like I was reading a fairly different book about striving to live a holy and obedient life as Sarah shares her list of flaws and her efforts to overcome them. She rounds off the book with a commitment to follow Christ that is moving and right-on, but falls short of resolving the significant amount of time given to weeding out her flaws that take up the last third of the book.

No matter how I look at it, though Sarah’s writing is top-notch throughout the book, the last third of the book left me feeling deflated. While she said nothing wrong, I feel the book fell short of delivering a solution to our flaws and struggles with sin. There was no mention of the Holy Spirit or the process of sanctification where we receive God’s righteousness. For someone whose life changed upon reading in Romans 3:21 that “ now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known,” I finished the book feeling like a huge part of God’s solution was lost in the ending metaphor of weeding our own gardens.

Cunningham’s Response

I didn’t want to end my review on that note, and I didn’t want to only present my reactions to this book without giving Sarah a chance to respond. My sense was that, regardless of my reaction to her book, she knows fully well about sanctification and had her reasons for writing her book the way she did. She really doesn’t need some seminary student shooting off a snooty e-mail with Bible references! In addition, just because the last third of the book didn’t work for me, isn’t to say that it couldn’t connect with other readers.

After mentioning my above concerns via e-mail, Sarah shared that she’s fully aware of the sanctification issue and plans to tackle that in a future book. Over the course of our correspondence I got the sense that she wanted to say more about her conversion and commitment to become a disciple in this book rather than the process of becoming holy. While I can’t change my reaction to the last third of her book, I can appreciate where she’s coming from and what she’s aiming to do. And the writing really is brilliant.

Thankfully, Sarah plans on writing future books, and whether or not my critique is spot on, I look forward to her future work.