Sugar.

Pure, one hundred percent cane sugar, and lots of it. To quote that great keeper of Christmas, Buddy the Elf, when asked if he liked syrup, “Is there sugar in syrup? Then yes!”

You can’t have Christmas fudge and Christmas cookies and Christmas cake without Christmas sugar. And I’m not talking the manmade kind, the high fructose chemical concoction. Or the fake sugar that has become so popular because it has fewer calories. When it comes to sugar, I’ll trust God over scientists, thank you.

(Adam Palmer and his family spent a year in Uganda. He once wrote to me, “You’ve got to come over here. They have Coke made with real cane sugar!” Alas, I never quite made it to Uganda to tip a Coke or three with Adam.)

The essence of sugar at this time of year has to be the candy cane. The striped candy cane with plastic protecting it until you are ready to let it melt in your mouth.  No caramel filling, no chocolate coating. Just pure sugar. Hung on the tree just waiting to ruin someone’s meal.

The candy cane is sugar made to resemble the a shepherd’s crook.  Yes, I know there is a tract available to explain to me the supposed history of the candy cane as a witnessing tool. But I am not interested in that at all. And that is the point of what I’m writing right now. I don’t have a need to make the candy cane into a witnessing tool. I’m good with candy canes simply being candy.

Besides, the “true story of the candy cane” is not true. Not one bit. (Snopes is your friend in these kinds of things.) Here it is, as passed on in emails by well-meaning Christians this time of year.

A candymaker in Indiana wanted to make a candy that would remind people of the true meaning of Christmas; so he made the candy cane to incorporate several symbols for the birth, ministry, and death of Jesus Christ. He began with a stick of pure white, hard candy. White to symbolize the Virgin Birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the foundation of the Church, and the firmness of the promises of God.

The candymaker then shaped his cane into the form of a “J” to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to the earth as Savior. It could also represent the staff of the “Good Shepherd” with which He reaches down to to reclaim the fallen lambs who, like sheep, have gone astray.

Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candymaker stained it with red stripes. He used three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging Jesus received. The large red stripe was for the blood shed by Christ on the cross so that we could have the promise of eternal life.

Ok, first of all, think about this for a minute. Candy canes have been around longer than the state of Indiana has been around. Stick candy is hundreds of years old. A German immigrant living in Ohio in the 19th century did manage to make the sticks with a curved top to hang them from his Christmas tree–not to make the letter “j.” And the stripes were not added until sometime in the 20th century. Candy canes are just candy canes, no matter what cute children’s book you just read in your local Christian bookstore. The entire story above is made up. It’s not true.

Or take the song we are all tired of right now, The Twelve Days Of Christmas. Are the twelve “gifts” mentioned actually secret code for Christian symbols? If you believe the email that goes around this time of year, then yes. You know: “two turtle doves” equal the Old and New Testaments, “eight maids a-milking” equal the eight beatitudes, etc. Sigh. I won’t go into the ridiculousness of this made-up tripe other than to say it is ridiculous made-up tripe.

(My favorite version of this song is The Twelve Pains Of Christmas. No symbolism needed in this song. It’s all laid out in clear English!)

So why is it we feel compelled to come up with fabricated stories to pair with candy or a song? Why do we feel it necessary to create a meaningful symbol out of everything? Maybe someone has come up with the reason holly berries are red. Or why we always see the wise men as riding camels. Is there a hidden meaning behind Christmas tree lights? Or eggnog? What about wrapping paper and bows? What do those symbolize in the Christian faith?

Can we stop this silliness and just enjoy Christmas? Eat a candy cane while singing the Twelve Days of Christmas and don’t try to give these things deeper meanings. Relax. You’ll give yourself a headache.

Oh—and as to the real “reason for the season,” that’s an easy one. It’s me. If I had not sinned and gone astray, there would be no need for God to have become “God with us.” Suck on a candy cane and think on that one for a while.

By Chaplain Mike

Comments closed. The conversation is degenerating…

I promise not to take too much of your time with this one.

Subject: Rob Bell vs. Justin Taylor, John Piper, Kevin DeYoung, Al Mohler, et al.

• Scot McKnight gives an overview of various reviews of Bell’s book, Love Wins, here.

• Jimmy Spencer at Red Letter Christians makes a big prediction:

You’re witnessing something big right now.
You’re witnessing a new split in Protestant Evangelicalism.

…This may be the future of Evangelicalism—and we may all be witnessing the tipping point.

• Jonathan Fitzgerald at Patrol Mag thinks Spencer has missed the bigger picture:

But, I can see why he might have missed it; it’s not a split at all. It is more like an erosion. Those of us along the edges are simply sliding off the side into, well, all kinds of things. Some of us turn to Catholicism, others to mainline denominations. Some tumble into Episcopal or Anglican churches, others stay at their evangelical churches but choose not to identify as such. And, sadly, some slide off the edge into nothing at all.

I don’t think there will be any more of a marked change than this. A loosely gathered group of people who have never been able to agree on a name let alone the particulars of theology don’t split, they erode. And erosion doesn’t happen once and then it’s over, it’s an ongoing process.

We are in the midst of the erosion. Enjoy the slide.

And that leads to my take. I simply want to observe two things—

The power of the new media to manipulate.
Bell’s publisher, HarperOne, pulled off one of the greatest coups in the digital age with its advance release of blurbs and video teasers on the internet suggesting that the author may be advocating universalism in his new book. They knew exactly what they were doing, and it worked. The Christian blogosphere (especially in its new Reformed incarnation), known for its reactionary impulses toward anything that smells in the least like false doctrine, blew up in record fashion.

New media, same old marketing bull_____. And Christians fell for it (and in it) again.

Protestant evangelicalism’s fundamental authority problem.
When did Rob Bell become an apostle? Did I miss that? How is it that his voice is considered so important in the church? Where does he come off as a lone wolf author publishing a book on an essential doctrine of the church? What are his qualifications for teaching doctrine? To whom is he accountable?

And when did Justin Taylor and others who consider themselves gatekeepers of sound doctrine get appointed to the magisterium? What gives them any authority to speak to or about Rob Bell? What right do they have to set themselves up as teachers and guardians of the Truth? Why do they think that they have a platform to criticize a brother in public, in full view of an unbelieving world that will only find more cause to mock the faith because of our schisms?

Oh, St. Ignatius of Antioch, where is your wisdom today? How shall we ever survive without godly bishops and elders to guard us and lead us in the way of truth and love?

Note from JD: In anticipation of many, um, interesting comments that will follow this post, I am donning my Simul Iustus et Peccator (At Once Justified and Sinner) t-shirt sent to me by our friends at New Reformation Press. I highly recommend you get one for yourself before you find me guilty of treason, blasphemy, or just annoyance…

Ok, I am going to pre-empt Chaplain Mike for once because a) as publisher, I can, and b) as publisher, I can. Some of you have taken exception to his post from this morning dealing with works-righteousness. Some of you like to quote Paul in order to prove that we had better straighten up and fly right if we want to get into heaven. And then there is Jesus himself telling the woman caught in adultery to “go and sin no more.”

Paul speaks often of our salvation by faith alone.  The first eight chapters of Romans drips with this. Every one of his epistles, or letters, to the churches he was wanting to speak to deal with sola fide, by faith alone. But he says it no more clearly and succinctly than in Galatians:

Oh, foolish Galatians! Who has cast an evil spell on you? For the meaning of Jesus Christ’s death was made as clear to you as if you had seen a picture of his death on the cross.  Let me ask you this one question: Did you receive the Holy Spirit by obeying the law of Moses? Of course not! You received the Spirit because you believed the message you heard about Christ.  How foolish can you be? After starting your Christian lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort? (Galatians 3: 1-3, NLT)

From this we see very clearly that Paul thinks anyone who tries to continue their walk of faith by their own works is a fool. We start the journey by faith, and we must continue it by the same faith. Yet still, we have these passages from Paul in nearly all of his epistles that seem to make it our responsibility to “live right.” What are we to make of verses like:

Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God (1 Corinthians 6: 9, 10 NIV).

It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on. This isn’t the first time I have warned you, you know. If you use your freedom this way, you will not inherit God’s kingdom  (Galatians 5: 19-21, The Message).

For this you know with certainty, that no immoral or impure person or covetous man, who is an idolater, has an inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God  (Ephesians 5:5, NASB).

How can Paul tell us in one verse that we are fools if we are trying to walk out our faith with any reliance at all on our own good works, but then tell us a few verses later that if we don’t have good works in abundance, we ain’t going to heaven? Is Paul coming up with a new law for us to follow? I don’t think that is what Paul is saying at all. I see him as being very consistant. We are saved—now, continually, forever—by faith alone. The lists of sins that keep us from heaven? To explain that, I am going to have to shift from Paul to Jesus.

Everybody must get stoned

We have a passage of Scripture in John 8 that is as difficult to deal with as Paul’s teachings. For one thing, it does not appear in the earliest manuscripts. Let me say that I am not a Bible historian or scholar, so you can toss this out the window if you like. But my two cents worth is this: John 8:1-11 was probably not written by the Apostle John (if you accept that he is the author of this Gospel, which I do). It was most likely added by a later scribe. And—get ready with those rocks—it most likely didn’t even happen, at least not in this way. But—grip that rock tight; don’t let it slip and hit you in the foot—I believe it accurately reflects Jesus’ intentions and teachings. So, with that made clear as mud, let’s look at the passage in question.

Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives,  but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them.  As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd.

“Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery. The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?”

They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger.  They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!” Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust.

When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman.  Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”

“No, Lord,” she said.

And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”  (John 8: 1-11, NLT)

If you can humor me, let’s look at this as a parable taught by Jesus rather than a report of an actual scene.  And if we see it as a parable, we need to do as Robert Capon suggests: Find the God character in this story. “Oh, that’s easy,” you say. “The person playing Jesus is Jesus himself, right there, writing in the dirt.” I want to disagree with you—at least at first. Or rather, I will grant you that Jesus is there, but in this case Jesus writing in the dirt is playing the role of God the Father. Who is Jesus then? He is the woman caught in adultery. He is the guilty one. He is hauled before the court, tried and convicted. The judge, jury, prosecutor and, for all we know, the defense attorney all pick up rocks. After all, they clearly read in Leviticus 20:10, If a man commits adultery with another man’s wife–with the wife of his neighbor–both the adulterer and the adulteress must be put to death (NIV). That is the law. There is no fudging with the law, right?

Jesus came and paid the penalty for our breaking the law. The wages of sin is death, we’re told (by Paul). But when payday came, who was hanging on the cross? It was Jesus, the perfect one, taking our place as sinners due death. So here we have a sinner, a woman caught in flagrante delicto–in blazing offense. (Like many Latin phrases, this one has trouble making its way into English. The closest literal translation is “with the offense blazing,” where blazing means “vigorous.” I will let you supply your own word pictures here.) There is no rationalizing, no defense possible for what she has done. She is guilty as, well, as sin and must pay. Her penalty is death. So when she is standing there, surrounded by those with rocks ready to be hurled at her, she is dead. There is no appeal process, no second chances. She’s dead. Thus, this is Jesus, the one who was dead because of sin—our sin.

Yet we see Jesus clearly off to one side, scribbling in the sand. (Don’t let this aspect distract you. Many preachers have tried to come up with what Jesus was writing. It doesn’t matter. He could have been playing Tic Tac Toe for all that. If he had wanted us to know what he was writing, he would have let us know. He didn’t. Move on, citizens—there is nothing to see here.) Why do I say this is God the Father? Because of the role he plays here. The adulteress, we just said, is dead. But the Father, looking at the dead girl, just as he looked at Jesus hanging on the cross, ignores her until her sentence is pronounced. We can imagine this girl saw Jesus. We can imagine she knew who he was, at least by reputation. With her life at stake, do you think she was silent? Or can you hear her calling out for Jesus to speak up in her defense?

Yet Jesus stays silent, making marks in the dirt, until it’s too late. Just like when Lazarus was sick and Jesus stayed where he was. He could have come and healed Lazarus, but he waited until Lazarus was good and dead. Why? Why didn’t Jesus heal Lazarus? Why didn’t Jesus speak up on this girl’s behalf? And why didn’t God answer Jesus’ cries the night he was betrayed? In all three situations, it was because he had a much greater purpose in mind than just to patch things up once again.

God had been patching things up for a long time. Each time Israel would sin, God would put them through some form of prophet–conquering army–prophet way to get their attention. Now he was going to deal with sin once and for all. But it could only be done one way—through death.

So we see Jesus standing in the circle of the court, condemned and already as good as dead. And the Father, played by Jesus, doing nothing but doodling. Then the people cry out to Jesus/God, “Sin brings about death. Wrong actions must be punished. You agree, don’t you, God?”

And here is where God stands the universe on its head.

God, the righteous God who demands righteousness from his people, says in effect, “I have dealt with this myself. I have died for adultery, murder, theft, gossip, gluttony, homosexuality, pedophilia, and cheating on your taxes. I myself have died to all of this. There is no more condemnation. You are free to go.”  Who is free to go? Well, not only the one caught in sin, but those who are doing the accusing. They can now drop their rocks and go have some fun. Throw batting practice or a football. Do something with those rocks, like skip them on a pond. God no longer needs their—our—help in condemning anyone for anything. And that includes ourselves.

Let me try to bring this plane in for a landing with Jesus’ final recorded words to this woman: Go and sin no more. And let’s relate those words back to what we read from Paul: No immoral person, idolator, Cubs fan, etc. is going to make it into heaven. Don’t these words make it clear that we have a role to play in maintaining right behavior? Not only no, hell no. The cruelest thing in the world Jesus could have done was to spare this woman’s life—resurrect her, for that is what follows death: resurrection—only to load sin management on her. “I have spared you this time, but don’t ever let me catch you sinning again.” He might as well have let the court stone her right then. She didn’t get five minutes down the street without sinning somehow. (Remember, the Jews had so many laws and traditions to keep, it was basically impossible to breathe without sinning.) So what are Paul and Jesus saying here?

This is what I think it is: We are forgiven. Jesus died for our sins, and was resurrected. The life we now live in the flesh we live by the faith the Son of God puts in us. He lives through us. That is our identity now: dead to sin, alive to God. If we insist on clinging to our old identity as immoral persons, greedy, homosexuals, drunkards or anything else on those lists, then we will be refusing the forgiveness that is ours freely in Jesus. If we continue to see ourselves as adulterers when Jesus says we are not, then we will be refusing his death and resurrection. And it is then that the kingdom of heaven is closed to us. Not because of our behaviors, but in spite of them we might be shut out from heaven. If you insist that you must do your best to be good, you are denying Jesus. If you insist that your behavior simply doesn’t matter because you are dead, then Jesus’ life is in you and you are living in the kingdom already.

So take those lists by Paul as him saying, “You want to be recognized as one of these kinds of people? You are not going to be welcome in heaven. You can’t try anywhere near hard enough to erase your debts on your own. But if you, in spite of any and all sin in your life, identify yourself as dead, buried and risen again in Christ, and make that your one and only identity, then you are already seated in heaven with Jesus.”

We are not called to behavior modification. We are not called to participate in sin management. We are called to die. Not develop a cough or a limp, but die. For only what is dead can be resurrected.

Next time you come across a post from Chaplain Mike or Lisa or Damaris or Joe or me that says, “Preaching on how you need to work hard to live a good life is not only a waste of time, it is misleading and dangerous,” then remember that Jesus would say, “You’re right. Drop the rocks. It’s bad form to stone a corpse.” And when you are the one holding a rock and looking in the mirror saying, “I screwed up. I must now face the court and the consequences,” remember that Jesus already did all that. You can drop your rock now.

Go, sin no more. No more finding your identity as a sinner. Instead, find your identity, no matter what sins you committed yesterday, are committing today, or will commit tomorrow, as one who is dead and resurrected. That is the only way God looked at the woman as she walked away from him. “Go, and no more find your identity as a sinner. No longer live in shame. You were dead but now you are alive because of me. Sin is no longer your ID. Life is. Live. Enjoy. Taste and see that I am Good.”

Go now and live as one forgiven.

Vision from Book of Revelation, Rev. McKendree Robbins Long, Sr.

Classic iMonk Post
by Michael Spencer
Originally posted Feb 12, 2007

From Chaplain Mike:
In the midst of all the insanity about “the end times” that Christians have produced since the Rapture theory became predominant, Michael Spencer (as usual) uttered this word of sanctified Biblical realism and common sense.

There’s not a lot that I like about the Appalachian mountain version of Christianity that surrounds me here in southeastern Kentucky, but at the top of a short list is their attitude toward the end of the world. They aren’t afraid of it.

They have a good idea what’s going to go on. They believe some will be ready and some won’t. They realize it will be a reunion for some and a final separation for others. But it’s not an occasion for fear. When they sing about it, preach about it or pray for it, it’s almost always saturated in happiness. When the end comes, they sing, it will be a better day.

If you are looking for the #1 fear producer in contemporary evangelicalism, you need look no further than the subject of the end of the world. Any Christian bookstore, radio station or television station will quickly provide you with evidence that fear-mongering and fear-motivating by holding out the imminent end of the world is still a major evangelical obsession.

In my years working with students, I’ve had thousands of conversations with Christian teenagers on hundreds of subjects. I’ve rarely ever seen any of those students seriously and consistently frightened except when they came to me with questions about if and how the world was about to end. I’ve seen far more evangelical teenagers afraid that Jesus would come back than that they or someone they know would go to hell.

For these students, the idea of missing out on their American-version of paradise on earth is nearly unthinkable. What if I don’t get my license? Or have sex? Or get a big house?

I wonder where they learned all of that?

Several years ago, a youth worker at a nearby church became convinced that Christ was going to return in a particular month that year. (He was helped in that belief by a number of books suggesting 88 Reasons Christ Will Return in 1988.) He took the youth group out to a camp fire in the country and terrorized them with this “theory.” His “motive,” of course, was evangelism. The result was not so much faith as it was mental and emotional abuse. If I had been a parent, I would have been livid.

One of the primary problems in evangelism among evangelicals in the inability to distinguish between fear and genuine conviction of sin. John Piper, in his book God is the Gospel, is courageous enough to say that a fear of hell is not a sufficient definition for the faith that embraces Christ as the all sufficient author of salvation. Evangelicals need to hear this message, because they are increasingly given to Tetzel-like tactics in order to produce what they believe is true faith, but is nothing more than fear of judgment or hell.

Fear without conviction? Yes. Emotional manipulation with little spiritual reality or Gospel response. It’s not just possible; it’s common, and short-lived.

Sophisticated fear-producing spectacles such as “Judgment House” and “Hell House” specialize in taking the fearful elements of modern culture and amplifying them into a Hollywood style, special-effects laden experience of fright. This is followed by a presentation of the Gospel and the opportunity to “make a decision.” The product is then called a Christian.

Many evangelicals have questioned this, and some have gone so far as to say that any eschatological fear should be removed from the Christian message, making it entirely about a never-ending “this world” kingdom. Eschatological differences among Christians are interesting to note, but I do not believe it is possible to entirely remove “end times” eschatology from our message and still remain faithful to what Jesus taught. Even if Preterists have something to teach us (and they do), there is still a strong element in the New Testament that affirms an eschatological inbreaking of the Kingdom and the unknown, but certain, future arrival of judgment. I’m not convinced all this occurred in the first century.

Apocalypse 1-4, Grace Cossington Smith

An eschatology that affirms “Jesus will return in judgment,” however, should not produce fear among Christians! This is the amazing irony of what we see in evangelicalism, and it reveals what an idolatrous and materialistic condition the church has lapsed into. When Paul describes the “Day of the Lord” in II Thessalonians 1, he spoke in genuinely frightening terms about the fate of those who were to face judgment, but for Christians he described the same event- the arrival of Jesus in history to judge his enemies- as a time of reward and comfort. Comfort!

The book of Revelation is often described as “frightening” by evangelicals, but the actual message of the book is that God has sealed his servants and nothing can harm them, even in the midst of the most terrible judgments on the “world.” It was a message of assurance, not of fear.

The thought that eschatological judgments may arrive unexpectedly is frightening, but as John Piper says in Don’t Waste Your Life, western Christians tend to be deluded about issues of risk and security in general, believing that we are able to secure ourselves and guarantee the future. Christian eschatology is a matter of giving up control of the future to God, and recognizing his sovereign hand in all events that may occur. Our attitude toward the future is a reflection of our confidence in the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and nothing about that confidence should result in terror and fearfulness.

The industry that exists around the notion that scaring people into the Kingdom and into Christian living is a sad embarrassment to the Christian community. Atheist websites such as Landover Baptist.org rightly skewer this kind of approach, and Christian leaders should develop the courage to insist that the work of human beings in frightening other human beings is not the same as the Holy Spirit showing us issues of our eternal destiny.

Christians should specifically distance themselves from, and condemn if possible, fearmongers like John Hagee, whose boldly detailed predictive books on coming world wars, etc. have become standard mind candy for many evangelicals. It is rare for Christians to hear any view of eschatology that isn’t filled with the kind of rhetoric that would not be at all out of character in a fascist country. The propaganda produced by evangelicals on the subject of the end times is world class, to our shame.

Christians should be a community who looks at any apocalypse with hope. Not just hope that there is a resurrection beyond, but hope that Christ gives us victory over fear in the here and now. The likelihood of a nuclear detonation, viral epidemic or environmental catastrophe may be real, but Christians have always been able to minister, serve and love in the midst of the worst of times precisely because they believed all these events were under the control of the Lord of history and could not, ultimately, take anything of real value away from us.

A final note to pastors: One of the most important ministries you can perform for your church is to defuse the “Left Behind” mentality by teaching a more Biblically balanced kind of eschatology, debunking the Hollywood-based fear scenarios and teaching the Lordship of Jesus over history and all events in a way that inspires missions, prayer, worship and service to others.

I think of the varying Christian responses to the apocalypse that was Hurricane Katrina. While some doomsday prophets made their usual noises about God’s judgment, other Christians made meals and did the work of the Good Samaritan, sharing the Gospel as they served. Those who served had an eschatology as well, but it was an eschatology that produces the fruit of hope, not the fruit of fear and fearful rhetoric.

Pastors: produce that kind of church and Christian. The Day of the Lord is a day of fearful darkness, but it also the revelation of the Kingdom of our savior, and we should greet him with worship, missions and service done in the hope of his soon return.

Alert friend of IM Eric N. sent me a note saying that he had seen a bus stop ad for the Rapture. Apparently, Jesus has sent his advance team out to spread the word.

Back in March, we reported the convoluted prognostications of Harold Camping, who is behind this ad campaign. Since we are only a little more than a half a year away from the Rapture (May 21, 2011) and exactly a year away from the end of the world (Oct 21, 2011), I thought we might re-visit this post.

Can’t have too many reminders, you know.

While We’re on the Subject…
• By Chaplain Mike
• Originally posted March 10, 2010

Since we’ve been talking about eschatology, the end times, and Jesus’ return lately, we might as well take a look at one of America’s foremost prophetic prognosticators.

You’ve probably heard something about the enthusiasts who think a great catastrophe that might lead to the end of the world will happen in 2012, based on the Mayan calendar, ancient prophecies, and certain natural phenomena that are predicted for that year.

Not so! says Harold Camping, citing a complete lack of Biblical support for the date. Instead, Camping is convinced the rapture will take place on May 11, 2011, and the end of the world on October 21, 2011.

Who is Harold Camping?

Camping, now 88 years old, has studied the Bible seriously for more than 70 years and  is the founder and president of Family Radio, which describes itself as “a nondenominational, noncommercial, nonprofit, listener-supported, 24-hour, Christian ministry.” He was a member of the Christian Reformed Church until 1988. An engineer by trade, Camping has an affinity for numbers and calculations. In 1970 he published “The Biblical Calendar of History,” which set forth an unconventional dating scheme that put Creation at 11,013 BC. In 1992, he predicted that Jesus would return in 1994.

One of his most controversial teachings, based on intricate calculations and interpretations of prophetic Scriptures, is that the “Church Age” has ended, God’s judgment has begun to fall on the churches, and believers should therefore abandon local congregations, study the Bible for themselves (and, of course, listen to Family Radio).

Now, here we go again. According to Harold Camping, we’re just a little more than a year away from the Rapture. How does he figure this? In a recent article in the San Francisco Chronicle, he explains.

OK, try to follow now:

By Camping’s understanding, the Bible was dictated by God and every word and number carries a spiritual significance. He noticed that particular numbers appeared in the Bible at the same time particular themes are discussed.

The number 5, Camping concluded, equals “atonement.” Ten is “completeness.” Seventeen means “heaven.” Camping patiently explained how he reached his conclusion for May 21, 2011.

“Christ hung on the cross April 1, 33 A.D.,” he began. “Now go to April 1 of 2011 A.D., and that’s 1,978 years.”

Camping then multiplied 1,978 by 365.2422 days – the number of days in each solar year, not to be confused with a calendar year.

Next, Camping noted that April 1 to May 21 encompasses 51 days. Add 51 to the sum of previous multiplication total, and it equals 722,500.

Camping realized that (5 x 10 x 17) x (5 x 10 x 17) = 722,500.

Or put into words: (Atonement x Completeness x Heaven), squared.

“Five times 10 times 17 is telling you a story,” Camping said. “It’s the story from the time Christ made payment for your sins until you’re completely saved.

“I tell ya, I just about fell off my chair when I realized that,” Camping said.

How could I possibly have missed that?

Consider this an Internet Monk public service announcement. I don’t want to hear any of you singing, “I Wish We’d All Been Ready” on May 12 next year.

By Chaplain Mike

On her•meneutics, Christianity Today’s blog for women, Elrena Evans has written a post called, “Why There’s No Narnia in Our Home.”

I’d like to hear your opinions on it today.

It turns out that Ms. Evans takes a very aggressive role in controlling the reading material to which her children are exposed. She was involved in a Ph.D. program in children’s literature when pregnant with her first child. This set her to organizing and purging her bookshelves, putting many volumes away in boxes until she felt her child would be ready to read them. As life went on, she testifies,

Things got complicated when my daughter started reading at a very early age. Like many parents of early readers, I found that books that were otherwise fine suddenly weren’t, when they were being read by a child much younger than their intended audience. I re-read the Little House on the Prairie series from her perspective and nearly had a heart attack. Narnia became a wasteland of bloodshed and violence. Even Christopher Robin was running around shooting things with his gun.

Go to her•meneutics, read and think through Ms. Evans’s perspective. Please. I want our Open Mic conversation to take place in response to what she says. I’m not really interested in any knee jerk reactions someone might have to the brief summary I have written here.

Then return and let’s have a discussion about parenting as followers of Jesus, guiding and protecting our children, and what may or may not be appropriate reading material in our homes.

Dear Sir: What a total disappointment.

I do like your wisdom and passion. However, you have become too smart.

May God have mercy on you regarding your responsibility to adhere to the inerrancy of scripture.

The discussion on inerrancy at the BHT and here at IM always fills my mailbox with mail that I can’t answer. All I can do is make an attempt to say what I believe is a reasonable approach to Christian scripture. That approach doesn’t do well with those who need perfection in their hands before they can say they have truth in their minds. I am not an inerrantist. It’s costing me friends, and it makes me uncomfortable. Here’s some of my thoughts. I know they will make a lot of you unhappy, but I’m nailing it to the door anyway. We need to articulate what we believe about scripture in a way that comports with the real nature of the Biblical texts, not inerrant, perfect autographs no one will ever have.

When I first wrote about Why I Am Not A Young Earth Creationist, I knew that eventually I would have to write more on scripture itself. So I have, here and here.

There is a lot more to be said, and I am really not up to saying it, but comments like these over at the Boar’s Head illustrate the problem well. (Three different writers, btw.)

One reason inerrancy is so important is that if we give it up in part the logical outcome will be the eventual giving up of the Gospel(not that you would of course). This is so is because the gospel is inextricably tied to history. Undermine the historical details of the Gospel and we undermine the Gospel itself.God, through the Holy Spirit, has written and preserved the Scriptures…If we don’t believe that, then why don’t we just toss it out the window, really…Do we believe in a literal six-day creation? I certainly hope so. Or do we try to turn some/all of the Bible stories into “allegories”?

What you are asking is the same as saying: “Since different people are reading the compass and their interpretation of true north may vary, then it doesn’t matter whether the compass is broken or not!” I disagree. KNOWING the compass is right is at least a starting point.

I could cite so many more things. I am constantly getting mail about my view of scripture, which really puzzles me. I obviously believe in the essentials of the Gospel and preach them out of the Bible. I teach the Bible to high school students, and have never been accused of being a liberal. I am a confessional Christian who enthusiastically embraces the Westminster Confession on the subject of scripture.

The whole counsel of God, concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man’s salvation, faith, and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture….our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority thereof, is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit, bearing witness by and with the Word in our hearts.

The authority of the holy Scripture, for which it ought to be believed and obeyed, dependeth not upon the testimony of any man or Church, but wholly upon God (who is truth itself), the Author thereof; and therefore it is to be received, because it is the Word of God.

…it pleased the Lord, at sundry times, and in divers manners, to reveal himself, and to declare that his will unto his Church; and afterward for the better preserving and propagating of the truth, and for the more sure establishment and comfort of the Church against the corruption of the flesh, and the malice of Satan and of the world, to commit the same wholly unto writing; which maketh the holy Scripture to be most necessary..

Amen!

The problem? I don’t believe in inerrancy, a view of how scripture is inspired that means well, but just can’t get traction with me. My problems with inerrancy have been going on for a very long time, and I’ve heard it presented and taught by the best. It’s never sat well with me, probably because I have a lot of literary interest in the text of scripture, plus I don’t like to be bullied. I get a rash.

1. What the heck is it? It takes a major document to describe inerrancy.

2. The document in question contains the following paragraph (Chicago Statement on Inerrancy XIII):

We deny that it is proper to evaluate Scripture according to standards of truth and error that are alien to its usage or purpose. We further deny that inerrancy is negated by Biblical phenomena such as a lack of modern technical precision, irregularities of grammar or spelling, observational descriptions of nature, the reporting of falsehoods, the use of hyperbole and round numbers, the topical arrangement of material, variant selections of material in parallel accounts, or the use of free citations

Excuse me, but did I just read that I am off the inerrancy hook if I can assert that the passage in question did not intend to come up to a particular standard of truth?

OK….I don’t believe the Bible was ever intended to be true in comparison to contemporary science, history, astronomy, geology, medicine, anatomy, psychology or the Bill James Baseball Abstract. Can I go to lunch now?

3. Inerrancy is asserted for the original autographs.

We don’t have them.

4. While the Bible is supposedly inerrant, none of those who interpret it are inerrant interpreters. That’s a problem. If there is a perfect compass, and you give it to a chimp, what have you got? A chimp with a compass.

5. Inerrancy is almost always tied up with things that really bother me: Young earth creationism, of course. Spiritual warfarism, where people with problem kids and screwed up marriages thing that Satan is in the house and/or in their head. Secret knowledge schemes, like What did Jesus eat? Diets. Conspiracy theories. Bible only Christian education. Lunacy like the Bible Codes. It goes on and on. Magic Bookies run amuck.

6. Inerrancy looks, smells and feels remarkably like a philosophical imposition on the Bible, going beyond what the Bible CAN say about itself, and forcing those of us who believe in the authority and truthfulness of the Bible to take a “loyalty oath” that goes beyond what should be said. Typical of evangelical attempts to show they are really really really really really right. Catholics do it with the Pope. Pentecostals with experience. Evangelicals with inerrancy.

It’s like a philosophical security system to keep everything safe. It’s been called Protestant Scholasticism, and I agree.

7. No major confession requires that you use the word “inerrancy”. Even the Southern Baptist Convention’s Faith and Message Statement avoids the exact word, and doesn’t harp on the concept. Reformation confessions don’t use it at all. We can live without it. Read what my friend Alex Arnold said about inerrancy. He’s totally on target. Or consider BHT commenter Myron Marston.

I’ve got news for you….but the Bible may be wrong on the resurrection. It may be wrong on lots of things. I don’t really have any way to inerrantly prove it one way or the other. And neither do you. At some point, you’ve got to accept it on faith, as do I. Accepting or not accepting the idea of inerrancy has little to do with whether or not I place my faith in Christ. In fact, I think inerrancy has a tendency to get in the way of our trusting Christ. We spend so much time sweating all these little inerrant details and trying to scientifically/historically “prove” the Bible that we can miss out on the entire point of the whole thing: Christ. Isn’t Christ enough? Why does it have to be Christ and inerrancy? Call me crazy, but I’m THANKFUL that the Bible doesn’t line up factually or theologically 100%. It would make it too easy to “stand pat” with my current understanding rather than having to spend a lifetime wrestling with scripture.

I could expand this list but I won’t. I want to say something about the comments quoted at the beginning of the post.

Defenders of inerrancy send me lots of false dilemmas. Thing like: If we don’t believe in inerrancy, the Bible must go out the window. Shred it. Go ahead. Shred Grandma’s KJV because you don’t believe in inerrancy so YOU JUST DON’T BELIEVE THE BIBLE ANY MORE YOU OVER-EDUCATED KNOW IT ALL.

Or this one. If you don’t buy the six day, young earth creationist view of Genesis, then you are saying it’s all an allegory. And that’s stupid. So it’s literal history with Ken Hamm or it’s allegories with all the devils of hell.

That’s it? Those are my choices? Ken Hamm or “allegory?” The great thing about that one is I’m pretty sure the author doesn’t know what an allegory is.

Or the Bible is a perfect compass. Or a perfect map. Or a perfect book. Because God is perfect. And if God said it, it must be perfect. It’s perfect. Really, really really perfect. Not just true. Not just a book that brings us Christ and the Gospel. Perfect. And if you don’t come out and walk around saying the Bible is perfect, then you reject the Bible.

And of course, without inerrancy, we lose history, and we lose the resurrection, and we lose the Gospel. The only way we know that the Gospels are telling the truth is the doctrine of inerrancy, modern version. Without it, we float off on a cloud of mythology. Or so I keep hearing. Why this doesn’t seem to be applying to N.T. Wright hasn’t been explained.

You will have to forgive me, readers, but this all just amazes me. I mean, it really amazes me, because it simply isn’t so.

The Bible is, first of all, not a book at all. IT IS NOT A BOOK AT ALL. It is 66 books, from a very long time ago. A wide selection of literature in the human conversation. The church selected these books because it believes that God speaks through those books to tell us the truth of the Gospel, and to tell us about Jesus and our salvation by the mediator. Therefore, the church asserts that these 66 books are a message from God. Since the Bible doesn’t know the “Christian Bible as canon” exists, it doesn’t have a word for itself beyond the New Testament calling the Old “scripture.”

Confessions like the WCF do a good job of saying God revealed himself, the church wrote down not only what was revealed about the Gospel, but a lot of other things surrounding the Gospel that make it understandable. The church selected a canon, and the church endorses that canon as scripture. God didn’t pick these books. We did. Christians will discover, on their own, that the Spirit speaks through those books and brings us to a saving knowledge of Jesus. They do a good job of this without talking about science, anthropology, anatomy, the latest issue of Biblical Archeology or any other standard of modern “truth.” The Bible is historical, but nowhere do I read a claim that it is perfect history. It’s “here’s the story from the God-point of view, where all kinds of strange things are more important than what you learned in school.”

The Bible is truthful, but it’s approach to truth is clearly something like this: God told us the truth in Jesus. Believe him. The Biblical story leading us to Jesus is true in that it leads us to Jesus. This seems to work without reference to large epistemological tomes on the nature of truth or the real “facts” of science. It’s actually quite amazing. For example:

Romans 5 says sin entered the world through one man. No history book in the world agrees with this, but Bible-believers know its true. We don’t need to worry that it is laughable to the world. This is our story.

Romans 5 says the death of one man made up for that sin for all who believe the Gospel. This also doesn’t match up with any history anywhere, and won’t be verified, so I don’t really get what’s going on. (I mean, you can historically conclude that Jesus was executed, but the meaning of it all is off the meter.) The only way you get ahold of this event, and what it means, is by faith and the Spirit. The church tells you the story in its canon of scripture, and you believe it by the illumination of the Spirit.

We also discover that the Bible’s approach to truth comes through an amazingly diverse grid of various literary types. Most all were literary forms common in prescientific cultures that thought the earth was the center of the universe, stars were angels, the blue sky was water, the moon gave light and so on. God didn’t seem to care about the limitations of prescientific accounts. Inerrantists worry about them endlessly. God actually seems to prefer them over modern “historical and scientific” accounts, as they keep the main thing the main thing. (If the Bible were being written today it would be larger than Spurgeon’s collected works. 30 times as large. Easily.)

Literary genre is the great ignored fact of the Bible that inerrantists seem unable to feel good about. They toss out “allegory” as a straw man, but if we were more accurate, the list would include EVERY kind of literary genre in the book: proverb, drama, journal, lament, imprecation, praise song, parable, didactic, story of origin, genealogy, poetry, apocalyptic, novella, and on and on and on. For some reason, the “truthfulness” of anything other than “flat” narration or eyewitness reporting really bugs a lot of inerrantists.

They remind me of people who, when asked by a four year old chide where babies come from, get out a college biology text or a video from human development class. Why? Well, allegory, story, poetry, etc. would just be abandoning the truth. (This is crazy!) So if I say the story of Adam and Eve is true, but it is prescientific, mythic, and more story than history, I’m a heretic. I will just say this once: I’m an English teacher, and you people get an F. Truth comes in all kinds of literary forms, and insisting that Genesis must produce a scientifically correct view of the universe is being brutally shallow in your appreciation of the literary nature of the material that makes up scripture.

This just in, and I have lots more like this.

History in the Bible must be perfect if it is to be trustworthy and if it is to be breathed out by God. If not, then the historical detail about the resurrection of Christ may not be true at all. And then our faith would be futile.

I respect my brothers and sisters with this view, but I cannot understand why they have come to the conclusion that Jesus and the Gospel must depend on a perfect book for “truth.” I thought if it really happened, it was true, and if God chooses to tell us what really happened in a book of poetry, symbol, music, apocalyptic, parable, prophecy, lament, proverb, saying and so forth, that doesn’t stop anything from “really” being true.

Creation “really” happened. That I am told by God about creation in a three thousand year old liturgical, poetic, prescientific story meant to assert Hebrew ideas over pagan ideas during the Babylonian captivity doesn’t take one thing away from the truth of Creation. Not one thing. Telling me I have to become a young earth creationist in order to actually “believe” this account is absurd. Saying that if I don’t become a young earth creationist, I disbelieve this account is simply unacceptable. Stronger words are really needed.

I want to say more, but I am weary from saying this much. I love and respect my inerrantist friends. When they tell me I am rejecting the resurrection by rejecting “inerrancy,” I am hurt and puzzled. But so I will remain, because the quests to insure that modernistic assertions about the Bible precede and protect the Gospel are not about to end. Denominations will split. Friendships will end. Seminarians and pastors will be shown the door. Christians will reject their brothers and sisters. It is needless, and a ridiculous waste of unity.

(For a thorough response to this article, read the Jollyblogger, David Wayne. Excellent post and totally an honor to be fisked by the best.)

By Chaplain Mike

No, this isn’t about LeBron James, for heaven’s sake.

It’s about a pastor that I admire more every time I read something about him or by him, or hear him speak. You may not be able to pronounce his name, but you will appreciate his message.

He is Tullian Tchividijian, and he is Billy Graham’s grandson. He also (reluctantly) became the pastor of the congregation that Dr. D. James Kennedy served for 48 years, Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church in Ft. Lauderdale, FL.

You can find an interview with Pastor Tchividijian over at Church Executive, called, “‘High Noon’ at Church: Dissidents challenge the leadership of a new pastor.” I encourage you to read it and return here to give some feedback and engage in discussion about his experience.

In the interview, Pastor Tchividijian tells how he did not seek the pastoral position at Coral Ridge, but was approached several times by the church asking him to consider it. He finally agreed, with the stipulation that the church merge with the congregation he was serving, New City Church.

The process led to a messy, contentious public dispute. About 500 people eventually left Coral Ridge to start another congregation. Tchividijian describes what happened:

Trouble started brewing before the merger was complete. Those who wanted everything to stay the same, who wanted nothing to change, circulated letters and developed anonymous blogs calling my leadership, theology and character into question. Those who wanted Coral Ridge to maintain its focus on politics were the loudest.

Coral Ridge had become widely known for what it was against much more than what it was for. And I vowed to change that. I wanted the city of Ft. Lauderdale (my hometown) to know that we were going to become a church in the city, for the city. I made it very clear from the outset that we were going to be a church that rolled up our sleeves and got our hands dirty in service to our city. I said that if our ministry was not attracting the same kinds of people that Jesus attracted, then we were not preaching the same message that Jesus preached. Most people loved that! Some hated it—and they made it known.

My heart sings when I read his grasp on and desire for church-based, Jesus-shaped ministry!

I said that if our ministry was not attracting the same kinds of people that Jesus attracted, then we were not preaching the same message that Jesus preached.

Take some time, reflect on that. Hmm.

But note how this approach provoked tremendous conflict with those committed to culture-war evangelical Christianity. What a telling statement he makes: “Coral Ridge had become widely known for what it was against much more than what it was for.” How many churches and organizations will have that as their epitaph?

However, he also reports that some of those who left the church have filtered back, that folks on all sides have apologized and repented, and that, at least as far as he can see now, “the Gospel is winning.” In addition, Tchividijian honestly shares that he learned many valuable lessons as a person and a pastor in the process, especially regarding his own need for human approval.

Pastor Tchividijian has written a book that grew out of sermons on the book of Jonah preached during the heart of the crisis. It’s called, Surprised by Grace: God’s Relentless Pursuit of Rebels. I am reading it now, and it has wonderful insights into God’s grace.

More on that later. For now, meditate on these words from Pastor Tullian Tchividijian, hard-won from the battleground of church conflict:

I learned that God’s capacity to clean things up is infinitely greater than our human capacity to mess things up.

More: You can hear Steve Brown’s radio interview with Tullian Tchividijian at Steve Brown Etc.

By Chaplain Mike

Over at ever-reliable culture-war news source, Christian Post, is a report on Charles Stanley’s “sobering 4th of July message about a dangerous spiritual tide that is engulfing the country.”

According to Pastor Stanley, the tide that is sweeping in is socialism.

“It is a tide that is bringing with it ideas and philosophies, actions and attitudes that will ultimately destroy the way of life that you and I have.”

Preaching in front of a huge American flag draped in the background of the church platform, Stanley said America is “violating God’s laws,” and warned that we are turning away from God and toward socialism, which will have grave spiritual consequences:

“The tide is bringing in a control that will indeed attempt to silence the truth and will attempt to squash the religious devotion and worship of the people of God.”

That tide began creeping in many years ago, he noted, when the government and the courts began banning prayer at schools and removing references to Jesus, God and the Ten Commandments from the public square, Stanley noted.

“It is an attempt to destroy the Christian spirit in America,” he said.

“There is a war going on against Jesus,” he declared. “It’s part of the strategy. The primary reason for this war against Him is He is interfering with the plan to make this a socialist nation. Mark it down. It is the truth.”

You can watch the message online here.The remedy he proposed is that God’s people devote themselves to pray for twenty weeks—140 days—asking God to supernaturally change the direction in which our country is going.

At least he didn’t ask us to join the Tea Party.

I’m sorry, but I have a hard time getting too worked up about this. Socialism? Really? This is the great threat to the Christian faith? Or wait, is it the threat to our “way of life”? To be honest, I have avoided exposure to this way of thinking because it drives me crazy.

But what do you think? Am I missing something?

Or is this just alarmist nonsense?

That is a powerful statement. The death of true art. Yet that is what so much of Christian entertainment is: the death of art. When I taught at a university in the 1980s, I required students in one of my upper division courses to read Frank Schaeffer’s Addicted to Mediocrity: Contemporary Christians and the Arts. Is that how our generation will be remembered? As the ones who took art from beauty that glorifies God to being simply mediocre? Or will the memory of our contributions be even seen that kindly?

(The art selected for this essay is titled Death Of Art. The artist? Marilyn Manson.)

The greatest contribution in our day the church as made to the arts has been a negative one, something that has driven thousands of Christians from the arts. Or driven them from the church into the arts with no ties to enterprise Christianity. This contribution is spoken of everyday in most any area of art or entertainment. This contribution consists of two simple words: “Christian” and “secular.”

The word “secular” has its roots in the Latin for “of the age.” As God is outside of time, this designation was meant to distinguish what was eternal from what was temporal. I do not think that the earliest users of “secular” ever envisioned using the term to distinguish songs written for one’s girlfriend from songs written for Jesus–but sounding just like Jesus was one’s girlfriend.

“Is that a Christian book or a secular book?” Just how does one answer that?  I don’t recommend giving the answer I usually give. “I didn’t know a book could be either” gets me branded as a, well, something about the intelligence of my backside. I hate the use of the words as they have come to be used in our day. “Christian” is a word applied to some of the earliest followers of Jesus—and it was not necessarily a positive term. “They look and act like Jesus” was an insult. Now we apply this word to products that are “safe” or “family-friendly,” neither of which truly describes Jesus. (Back off, Dobsonites. One day I will write on how Jesus came to turn families upside-down … but that day is not today.)

And we use the word “secular” to label products good Christians should avoid, or at least approach with the utmost caution. So a follower of Jesus who is a writer is shuttled into writing Christian, not secular, literature. And there are further restrictions and requirements this writer must meet. She cannot have her characters do anything real, like sin. No alcohol may be consumed. No sex outside of marriage. No cussing. Violence is to be off-screen; we only get to see the effects, not the act itself. What is so ironic is that this leads to trying to introduce the reader to the God of the Real through totally unreal circumstances. What is the reader to believe?

Is that song Christian or secular?

That artist must have gone secular.

I only watch Christian movies.

It’s phrases like these that are keeping Christians from making great art. Those who follow Jesus and create lasting art seldom make their Christianity known, and for good reason. The hostility they will face from the church is unbelievable. And that is to our utter shame.

Yet God has always worked through art and will continue to do so. It’s just that he now shows up in surprising ways. We see the Gospel revealed, not in “Christian” art, but in art made in this age, within the temporal. In other words, secular art shows us God in a greater way than Christian art. (Ok, commenters, start throwing the tomatoes my way.) God surprises me all the time, popping up and waving at me in movies, books, music, dance, theater, and many other works of arts where I never expected to see him. Now, I expect to see him everywhere. I get disappointed if I come out of a movie not having seen him in some way. (Recently I came out of the movie, Fantastic Mr. Fox, and the person I saw it with looked at me and said, “Don’t tell me how you saw Jesus in that movie. It will just ruin it for me.” So I didn’t say, but I did see.)

If you have eyes to see and ears to hear, God will reveal himself in just about any work of art. I find it so much fun to be on the lookout for God wherever I go, whatever I’m listening to or reading or watching. Sometimes he presents himself in an undeniable way, a presentation of the Gospel that cannot be mistaken for anything else. At other times, he sneaks in a word or phrase or glimpse of him that is really just for me and just for this specific time.

I asked our other iMonk writers to share some works of art in the fields of music, movies and books where they have seen God revealed. Of course, I didn’t ask until late last night. Thus not all were able to share their insights. But know that all of our writers are artists, and they all see God in places outside of the enterprise of Christianity. You may be scandalized by some of the suggestions below. That’s ok. It will make you think through why you are scandalized and perhaps that process alone will begin to free you from the “Christian art box” you have been stuck in for too long.

So here are suggested movies, musical groups and books/authors you will not find in most Christian bookstores, but that we feel will help you get to know our incredibly artistic God in a greater and deeper way. (Note: AP is Adam Palmer; LD is Lisa Dye; JD is me.)

Movies
The Fountain (Widescreen Edition) (2006)  A treatise on the nature of life and the inevitability of death that always leaves me thinking. (AP)

Saving Private Ryan (Special Limited Edition) (1998)  I personally connect with the (seeming) insanity of the mission placed before these guys, and am floored that they go through with it anyway. That is a pretty accurate metaphor for my walk with Christ. (AP)

Wall-E (Single-Disc Edition) (2008)  The most profitable art film ever made, it asks the age-old question: “What makes us human?” And for me, it always reinforces my need, as a creation, for interaction with my Creator. (AP) And the portrayal of life aboard the spaceship/lifeboat is a great picture of the church in the West today. (JD)

Children of Men (Widescreen Edition) (2006)  Yes, it’s brutal and violent and packed with, as Ralphie Parker would put it, “The F-dash-dash-dash word.” Set in a world where no child has been born for 18 years, the film, at the end (spoiler alert!), finally ushers in a baby. This baby is the hope of mankind, and all the different political factions want to use it for their own gain. But there is a sequence toward the end of the film where everyone gets quiet, stops their fighting, and, quite simply, pauses because of the baby. There is no agenda, there is no policy–it is just the baby. It always reminds me that we must offer simply Christ, with no strings attached, no agendas, no moneymaking schemes. Just Jesus. (AP)

No Country for Old Men (2007) Evil is relentless and the devil will stop at nothing to destroy us. But my favorite Godly reminder comes in an off-hand conversation the main character Ed Tom has with his uncle. Ed Tom is feeling like God is against him, and his uncle, swimming upstream against our culture’s narcissism tells him, “What you got ain’t nothin’ new. It ain’t all dependin’ on you. That’s vanity.” So much truth in this film. And violence, too. (But mostly truth.) (AP and LD)

Gran Torino (Widescreen Edition) (2008) Clint Eastwood as he neared 80 found he could still glare and growl. He could also show the sacrificial nature of Jesus, giving himself for someone who had tried to steal something very precious from Clint. Yes, a lot of profanity. Well, that isn’t even close. If you took out all of the profanity, I’m pretty sure this would be reduced to a silent movie. But the last scene is one of the most memorable from all movies I have seen. (LD and JD)

Spanglish (2005) The love of a mother to protect her daughter from the seduction of wealth, materialism and popularity is another portrayal of Christ’s covering of us. (LD)

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (30th Anniversary Ultimate Edition) [Blu-ray](1977) The power of a call on one’s life and the cost to the person called. Plus some really good special effects–for a 33 year old movie. (JD)

Harvey(1950) Jimmy Stewart is the only person who can see Harvey, a 6 foot, 1 1/2 inch tall rabbit. Yes, Stewart’s character is a drunk. But he has a heart as big as a Buick. “My mother told me, ‘In this life, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.’ For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.” Is Harvey the Holy Spirit that only those with eyes to see can see? (JD)

The Shawshank Redemption (Single Disc Edition)(1994) Prisoners who have served their time are set free. But after years of the security of their prison walls, freedom is too much. They long to return to their Egypt. A great portrayal of not only the Israelites in the midst of the exodus, but those of us who are offered freedom through the blood of Christ today. Will we accept, or will we turn back? (JD)

Up (Single Disc Widescreen)(2009) A great look at the harm of holding onto the past. Also, the first ten minutes are perhaps the greatest ten minutes of cinema ever. (JD)

Lisa says, “Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke is the first one that comes to mind. Mr. Norrell, the fussy traditionalist who wanted to practice magic only by the books in his jealously-guarded library, represents (to me) Christian addiction to law. Jonathan Strange was raised up as a magician under Norrell’s tutelage, but broke away when a crisis demanded it. He was a Luther of sorts, running into dangerous places, forsaking the books (law), but confident in the magic. JS&MN is a book that needs to be read many times.

“Two children’s books that are so much fun, but touching as well are A Long Way From Chicago (Puffin Modern Classics) and A Year Down Yonder, both by Richard Peck. The time period is the Great Depression, the setting is a rural Illinois town and the main character is a tough, battle axe of a grandma (described through the eyes of her visiting grandchildren) who creates adventure, dishes out shocking justice to the annoying folks in her small town and true kindness to those who need it most.”

Adam agrees with Lisa on her first choice of JSMN. Other books he recommends in order to see God revealed include The Complete Calvin and Hobbes (Calvin & Hobbes) (v. 1, 2, 3), Bill Watterson. (“Bill Watterson managed to do something that I don’t think had ever been done–turn his art into a pop culture phenomenon and RETAIN HIS ARTISTRY. I introduced my eight-year-old son to “Calvin & Hobbes” a couple of years ago, and it brought me back to the sheer joy of Watterson’s illustrations, drunk on the delight of whimsy and invention, and the breathtaking way he captures the beauty and simplicity of God’s creation.”)

Gates of Fire: An Epic Novel of the Battle of Thermopylae, Steven Pressfield. (“Forget that nonsense that masqueraded as a historic telling of the Battle of Thermopylae that called itself “300.” Ugh. This is the real deal, and though it’s packed with viscera and real-life military talk—as imagined in the ancient world—this remains the bloodiest reminder of my need for community. The way Pressfield describes the purpose of the phalanx warfare the Spartans use is a spot-on metaphor for the way Christians need to engage with one another.”)