By Chaplain Mike

May’s Christianity Today includes a thought-provoking article by Joseph H. Hellerman, entitled, “A Family Affair: What would happen if we put we before me?” Hellerman is professor of NT at Talbot School of Theology. He is the author of When the Church Was a Family: Recapturing Jesus’ Vision for Authentic Christian Community.

Let me start by saying that I get Hellerman’s argument. He writes that the early church functioned according to the ethos of a family, a specific kind of family, what social scientists refer to as a “strong group.”

Jesus’ early followers were convinced that the group comes first—that I as an individual will become all God wants me to be only when I begin to view my goals, desires, and relational needs as secondary to what God is doing through his people, the local church. The group, not the individual, took priority in a believer’s life in the early church.

What muddies the waters for me is Hellerman’s point that this family model was by no means unique to Christians, but actually the way the broader social landscape functioned in ancient Greco-Roman culture.

So, is the “strong-family” model a Biblical imperative for the way the church should function? Or is it yet one more example of how God’s people live out their faith in whatever culture they find themselves?

To explain the difference in ancient and modern family systems, Hellerman appeals to the film Titanic, and its love story between Jack and Rose. Contemporary audiences cheered for the romance between the two individuals. Those in the ancient world would have been appalled that Rose abandoned her family’s wishes for an individualistic pursuit of love.

“Strong family” values vs. individual autonomy. Stories about this struggle have filled literature and art for millennia. In America, they are often set in the context of the immigrant experience or the small town, and our tradition has been to cheer for the individual to “break free” of the stifling atmosphere and expectations of the family and culture of origin.

Perhaps because of our immigrant experiences, our pioneer history with its constant movement westward to new territory, our myth of the “self-made man,” we Americans pride ourselves in being the people who broke the mold, who escaped the chains of extended family, the community “messin’ in my business,” and lives bound by tradition that kept us from fulfillment and achievement. If I can only find some way “over the rainbow,” the dreams that I’ve learned to dream will really come true.

As an illustration of how the strong family ethos worked in the early church, Joseph Hellerman tells the story of a man named Marcus, who lived in third-century Carthage. He was an actor who converted to Christ. Because of its teaching about the moral life in Christ, the church demanded that Marcus quit his profession. So he did, putting Marcus in a precarious financial position. He decided to open an acting school, but the church disapproved. The issue came to a head, and a clear choice was put before the converted actor. Abandon the acting school, or you will no longer be in fellowship with the church.

Hellerman quotes what bishop Cyprian said about the situation:

It is not in keeping with the reverence due to the majesty of God and with the observance of the gospel teachings for the honor and respect of the church to be polluted by contamination at once so degraded and so scandalous.

With typical “strong family” logic, Cyprian put the welfare and reputation of the group ahead of the wishes of the individual.

However, that is not the whole story. Cyprian also recognized the responsibility of the family to take care of a brother who was in a dilemma. He instructed the church to provide for Marcus, and said that if they were unable to provide him an adequate income, Marcus could come to his larger congregation and be supported. Cyprian knew that following Jesus meant real loss for some people, and he was perfectly willing for the church to be a full economic safety-net for those who became deprived of a living. That’s what families do. That’s the other side of “strong-family” practice.

What about us?
This is all interesting, of course. But Hellerman asks the million-dollar question when he writes:

Can we recapture in our churches the biblical vision for authentic Christian community as reflected in the strong-group, surrogate family model that characterized the early church?

He gives a qualified “yes” answer. However, as he tries to flesh this out, the challenges appear overwhelming. First, he says we can move toward this by recapturing a church that is more relational than institutional. Well OK, but then the real problem emerges. Listen to his second point:

Most of us do not belong to church communities where decisions are handed down through the channels of formal church leadership. Rather, the benefits of a strong-group, familial church will accrue informally, in the course of daily life, as we work through conflict, share victories, and endure heartaches together in those relationships that inevitably develop and bear fruit among Christians who determine to stick it out together. (emphasis mine)

Furthermore, he goes on to say that commitment to a church that functions like a “strong-family” must be based on the individual commitment of each member to the group. Unlike Marcus in the early church, we have so many other options that the “strong-family” ethos cannot be enforced. But if this is the case, it is no longer “strong-family!” Will our individual commitments have the kind of strength to stand up to the daily onslaught of our individualistic culture? I have strong doubts.

Furthermore, Hellerman recognizes the dangers of falling into cult-like behavior, which skeptical Americans would certainly fear, and with good reason. We’ve had enough “toxic religion” thrust upon us over the years from dictatorial leaders and abusive religious systems.

Evidently, “strong-family” now would bear little resemblance to “strong-family” then or over the years.

So, while I appreciate Hellerman’s effort, I have a lot more thinking to do before I’m ready to say he’s on to something here.

• Is the kind of “strong-family” ethos Hellerman writes about part of Biblical Christianity, or just part of the culture in which the early Christians lived out their faith?

• Since our culture is so different, are we required to recreate this kind of “strong-family” culture in our churches in order to follow Jesus faithfully?

• Is this even possible in our individualistic culture?

• Doesn’t a “strong family” culture actually require the strong family itself—complete with the authority of the elders, strong role designations for those in the family, the regular reinforcement of expectations, and the willingness to submit to the discipline of the group. Wouldn’t this only work in a hierarchical system with established traditions and rules of order?

• This discussion brings up questions regarding church discipline, church organization, and church care for its members. If we can’t or shouldn’t recreate a “strong family” ethos in the church today, how do we practice these elements of church life in our own culture in a way that is Biblically faithful? That’s a huge set of questions, and must await future posts.

I received my copy earlier this week. I’ll share a variety of observations.

1. The Mosaic Bible is actually two books under one cover. It is a 52 week devotional resource keyed to the Christian year using art, quotations and extended selections from a broad sampling of Christian traditions on every continent, tradition and period of history. The second book is a two column NLT Bible, with center references, an excellent concordance, a Greek/Hebrew dictionary, maps and other helpful materials in most standard Bibles. These two books use different kinds of paper and are easily distinguished for one another. I was particularly glad that these materials are separated, because I do not want a Bible to look like a workbook or anything other than a text of Holy Scripture.

2. Mosaic is heavily graphical, with a generous sampling of Christian symbolism and an excellent selection of Christian art. All the artistic and literary resources are listed in an index. There is an intentional effort to capture an ecumenical, pan-traditional look that some might call “post evangelical” or “emerging.” Some may find this trendy. It is well-done and a pleasure to work through.

3. The diversity of resource selections is truly wide ranging, from Athanasius to Brian Maclaren, classic to contemporary, Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, Anabaptist, etc.

4. The Christian year is the key to the weekly devotions and studies, but the Christian year is only briefly and inadequately explained in the users guide toMosaic. (Similar basic material on the Christian year is at the Mosaic website.) This is a serious omission, in my opinion. The Lutheran resource The Treasury of Daily Prayer contains an example of what can be done in less than 5 pages to orient those who are not familiar with the Christian year with all that’s necessary to appreciate it.

5. In fact, a section that oriented the reader to the various traditions and their historical roots and theological distinctives/commonalities would have been useful in seeing just how Athanasius and Brian Maclaren “fit” into a common Christianity. If a user of Mosaic is committed to a “generous orthodoxy,” the approach of Mosaic is positive, but if someone buys the Bible and is in a church where Maclaren or Catholics are denounced or ruled out of orthodoxy, there will be confusion.

6. For those who seriously are at variance with high levels of denominationalism, the Mosaic Bible will be particularly appreciated. For those operating in a particular tradition, there is a need for more resources. Perhaps this can be addressed in future editions. (Tyndale- call me

7. I appreciate the Bible portion of Mosaic because it is not a study Bible (no notes, charts, essays, etc.) and it does not attempt to fill the Bible with “relevant” thematic material. It is a useful two column text with good concordance and Greek/Hebrew dictionary. This makes NLT Bible useful and not busy or gimmicky.

8. The NLT needs to include a brief, but prominent, explanation of two things: 1) It is not The Living Bible and 2) Dynamic equivalence is not heretical or dangerous. The translators of the NLT are well-known conservative scholars. Some worked on the ESV as well as NLT. The scuttle that NLT is somehow less than orthodox should be addressed directly with endorsements and information that can be read and understood.

9. The NLT’s cross references are less ambitious than other Bibles. I have not spent a lot of time with them- I don’t use them often- but with cross-references, less is more as far as I am concerned.

10. Mosaic will make an excellent specialty edition of the NLT for those who appreciate it’s unusual approach. It is unlikely to be anyone’s preaching Bible. It is a good, self-contained devotional resource that reminds the user of the broader, deeper more ancient church and the great tradition that all Christians share.

Join me October 14th for a Q/A with Mosaic editor Keith Williams.

My three main responses:

Christians and non-Christian Gays:
God loves every human he has made. What he wants most is not for gays and lesbians to become heterosexual, but for them to choose a relationship with himself through Jesus.  For us as conservative Christians, this means acting in a way that encourages all people to pursue a relationship with God, rather than defending God’s moral law.  Frankly, it’s a lot easier and more comforting for me to defend moral laws.  I think this is because, deep down, I don’t think the Holy Spirit can do the defending.
 
Christians and Gay Christians:
A Christian’s spiritual journey towards a deeper relationship with God is a personal journey that requires a community to support and encourage it.  The path of that journey is different for everyone. Straight Christians tend to judge the gay Christian journey by how heterosexual the person is becoming.  But God may be more interested in another area of growth for many years.  Gays need room to attend church, be in Bible studies, and be loved and accepted while they are still gay.  They need room to be Christians while still gay. They need to have a community of fellow believers, straight and gay, that allows them to talk and think about what their same-sex attraction means in their spiritual journey.  This doesn’t mean “accepting” homosexuality.  It means accepting that we are all sinners seeking wholeness in whatever way the Holy Spirit works in us.  
 
Christians and Andrew Marin:
I am deeply touched by Andrew Marin’s love for the GLBT community.  He has made them human again in my eyes – people who want relationship with God and meaningful lives as much as I do. I am broken by the depth of pain that the gay community has felt, often in the frightened, rough hands of Christians who don’t know how to balance their desire to help with their disgust of the physical and cultural strangeness.  I am encouraged that God can redeem both the gay and the straight.  I believe this book will help with that redemption.

Adrienne Williams

The importance of this book cannot be overstated. The Christian community has done tremendous damage to their ability to effectively communicate the gospel of Jesus Christ to the gay and lesbian community and I am no exception to that broken relationship the church has with the GLBT community. This book humbled me, making me realize that even with the good intentions I might have had, I have hurt people because I approached situations without the proper care and humility I needed. It opened my eyes to the pain that the gay community feels in regards to their relationship with the Christian community, especially the one I belong to: evangelical Christianity. I was reminded of the times I was more concerned with being right than being loving. But I also know that I have not always acted carelessly. My friendships and acquaintances with those who would identify themselves as gay or bi-sexual have never been conditional (at least in regards to their sexuality or religious convictions), but Andrew Marin’s book still convicted me of my past mistakes.

Probably the most important thing Marin offers is his experience. His book is not an untested theory or how-to on engaging the GLBT community. He’s not offering some 12-step approach to fixing the broken relationship between gays and the church. Instead, Marin offers years of his experience and growing wisdom about mending relationships and building bridges. Marin has spent years living in a predominately gay community and has heard the stories of people who have been hurt and often abandoned by Christians in their past. It’s this personal touch – the human story of both his own journey and the journeys of those who he has come to love and call his friends that makes this book so special. I’ll admit that I teared up a few times when I read some of these stories of people feeling rejected and abandoned by the very people they thought they could trust to understand their struggles. Marin’s approach to building bridges is really quite simple: Our only job is to love. Leave the controversy off the table. Accept and love gays into our Christian community without reservation.

Some Christians may accuse Marin of offering a watered-down Gospel or even of “giving in.” I don’t believe so. Marin is not offering all the answers to the tough questions – especially on how we interpret and apply those passages of scripture that deal with homosexuality. What Marin offers is the most practical Christian advice there is: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The fact is, straight people do not know what it is like to be gay. We don’t know what it’s like to feel the pressure of two distinct communities telling us how we should live (embrace our sexuality or deny it). But many of us know what it’s like to be rejected, abandoned, and hurt. All of us know what it’s like to struggle with sin. I know what it’s like to struggle in my own relationship with God. So if I were to love others as I love myself, I have to love them unconditionally and with open arms. This is difficult to do with any relationship, but Jesus commanded it none-the-less. 

Kenny Johnson

From one of those who received this book from Chris Giammona:

When I received and began reading Marin’s book at the beginning of this month, I was in the midst of a situation in which I was and still continue to be criticized, excluded, misunderstood and vilified by, to use iMonk’s phrase, “a theological Barney Fife” because we don’t share identical theological perspectives. I completed reading the book a week ago in the course of two long flights traveling halfway around the globe to the part of the world in which we’ve been laboring for more than 15 years to make Jesus known so that those Muslims we know there may become His followers. So Brian McLaren’s foreword grabbed my attention, as I recognized the ravages and ridiculousness of “the judgmental lifestyle”, a lifestyle I had lived for far too many years of my life. And Marin’s approach to love as an orientation rang with truth– the same truth that has guided us in loving our Muslim friends and neighbors, and in finding ways of building bridges of trust and relationship with them strong enough to bear the truth we bring.

I could practically re-write this book, substituting “Muslim” for “GLBT”, “Islamic religion” for “homosexuality”, and other similar phrases, and it could become a challenge to elevate the conversation with the Muslim community in the same spirit as Marin offers regarding the gay community. Perhaps that is how this book found a path through the backdoor of my heart to resonate so deeply within me and to point out to me what a poor job we’ve done of living as Jesus’ disciples in relation to that gay community. I had to take another look at the conflict and controversy which dominates the discussion around homosexuality and the church, while letting go of the kneejerk reactions I’ve been steeped in through nearly 35 years of evangelical culture, before I could begin to see gay men and women as those created by God to be His beloved children first and foremost, and those whom He longs to draw into intimate fellowship for eternity with Himself through Jesus His Son.

[Edited for a format problem] 

In the same way, Marin challenges us in his conclusion: “So we’re called by Christ to be different by being loving– by choosing humility over hostility, by braving the unknown rather than huddling in safe enclaves, by daring to face people who we’ve offended and who have offended us, and inviting them into a reconciled relationship with God and one another.” Whether it is members of the gay community, members of the Muslim community, or my own Barney Fife, I’m called and committed to approach them with love, humility, grace, and a passion in order to be reconciled with them, and to see them reconciled to my loving Father through Jesus.

“Bones”

Hey guys. Sorry this took so long.  I’ve been busy moving.  Hope this isn’t too long and isn’t the last one in. Here’s the response:

Its not very hard these days to convince twenty-somethings like myself that homosexuality is not an unpardonable or even unique sin meriting condemnation or exclusion.  Having already reached the conclusion that the GLBT community is loved by God and thus should be loved by the church, Andrew Marin’s “Love Is An Orientation” didn’t shock my system as much as it would for some, I’m sure.  But Marin does more than convince his readers that the GLBT community is loved and worthy of love: he shows his readers how to love the GLBT community as Jesus would.  It is easy to find people who assert the former but fail to do the latter without sliding into some limp version of acceptance and an even weaker version of love.

But Marin is different.  The greatest strength of Marin’s book is, like Paul’s ministry, not in eloquent words but in power.  Marin actually lives out his message and does so in a way that can only described as contagious.  Similar to when I read Shane Claiborne’s “Irresistible Revolution,” many times throughout the book I wanted to put it down and just go do the same things he has done: immerse myself in the GLBT community, make genuine friendships, wait for an opportunity and introduce people to Jesus.  In reading his stories of joy and pain, breakthroughs and breakdowns, delights and disappointments, I couldn’t help but envy his life and want in.

Thankfully, he shows the way.  He first removes the 2×4 in the reader’s eye and then teaches the reader how to help others know Jesus through all kinds of extremely practical insight gleaned from real relationships with real people.  In the process, he answered every major question I had and alleviated most of my fears by pointing out common Christian faux-pas.  Most importantly, Marin continually reminds the reader that judging isn’t our job (much needed for me) and consistently points to what this is all about anyway: Jesus.

Of course, simply reading or praising Marin’s book isn’t worth much; it requires action.  Personally, I am committing to love the one gay friend I have but I also am planning on getting involved in the sizable gay community of the college town where I live.  In fact, because of this book, I hope to do these things the rest of my life. 

Marin’s book isn’t perfect (I can’t wait for a revised edition or the next installment ten years from now filled with more stories and insight from new experiences) but it is the clearest example I’ve seen of how to love the GLBT community. Or anyone, for that matter.  Thanks, Andrew.

James

Dear Michael,

Thanks again to you and to Chris for the opportunity to read Andrew Marin’s Love is an Orientation. Please feel free to edit my paragraphs to you for whatever content you feel is appropriate for your blog. I’m not sure exactly how much information you want or what sort of format you prefer.

I was educated in Madison, Wisconsin, which has a fairly sizable GLBT community. I never really thought much about it until I ended up at a Gay Pride parade and “outed” a family member. She was extremely embarrassed and essentially stopped talking to me for several years, fearing (I guess) that I would “out” her to the rest of our family. Flash forward a couple of years when I was attending a local evangelical free church where the pastor stressed “building bridges while keeping boundaries.” His point, though not nearly as fully and well articulated as Marin’s was essentially this: love your neighbor, but let them know you’re a Christian, too. For me, I was always left wondering what exactly that would “look like” in practice. I had several gay friends in law school, one of whom constantly asked me questions about God. I tried to explain God loves everyone and that I don’t have all of the answers, but I wish now that I had Mr. Marin’s book.

Mr. Marin’s approach to the gay community in Chicago, to me, shows the ability to be filled with Christ-like love while still holding true to Biblical truth. Instead of wielding a hammer and telling GLBT in Chicago they are wrong, sinners or whatever hateful “truth” seemingly justified by the Bible, Mr. Marin spends his time in relationships with members of the GLBT community. People know he is a Christian and seem to feel free to discuss what it means to be Christian with him on their own terms. His point, “…the bombardment of doctrine or the pressure of a decision is not what is needed to get the eternal point across. Presence is more than enough.” (p.160) is refreshing and provides a great framework for talking with anyone (gay or straight) who is a non-believer.

I could see people disregarding this book for Mr. Marin’s presentation of why GLBT pastors believe what they do. I could see more conservative Christians thinking this book too liberal in its approach (because Mr. Marin, apparently, does not tell members of the GLBT community they are going to hell or need to change their behavior). I, for one, am gladdened by his response to those two issues: ultimately, it just doesn’t matter. What matters is one’s personal relationship with Christ. God will do the rest. Marin tells us to not, “step in between the other person and God” when a new believer reveals he or she will continue in his or her homosexual lifestyle (p. 175). Marin urges us not to get into the theology of whether being gay is a sin, and instead encourages believers to switch the theological conversation like Jesus did (“…refusing to treat a complex question simplistically-which is the biblical basis for elevating the conversation in similar situations that Christians find themselves in today with the GLBT community.” p. 181). Instead, he encourages us to let God do the work (whether in convicting someone to change their lifestyle, to bring others to Christ, etc.), saying, “None of us will ever know what happens in the end until heaven answers it for us.” (p.158).

I was most impressed by Marin’s knowledge of which he speaks. He truly spent time getting to know members of the Boystown community and really has sought out relationships will all sorts of people there. His honesty about his reactions when his friends told him he was gay and when he thought he would finally reach someone for Christ, but didn’t, made this book seem much more “real” than others which would profess how to “deal with” the gay community. His passion for his work must only come from God, and Christians throughout the world who have a heart for GLBT people would gain a lot by reading Marin’s book.

Thanks again for the chance to read the book. I apologize for the delay in writing to you; I was on vacation with my two young sons, and they didn’t make it easy to read a book where I actually had to think. I look forward to sharing this book with my Christian friends and local pastors here in Utah.

Sara

In this class of ten, several students could relate to various aspects of the film. One young man had been in similar churches and experiences for the first eight years of his life. One of my Ethiopian girls was from a Pentecostal church in her country. One of my American girls was homeschooled on and off for several years. Others had heard various sermons that reminded them of the rhetoric in Jesus Camp.

I have, of course, been around youth camps, youth rallies and youth events my entire life as a Christian and a minister. I grew up in a church that used high pressure evangelism tactics several times a year. I’ve been to youth events where the speakers or musicians were similar to the adults in Jesus Camp. All my life I’ve been surrounded by end-of-the-world scenarios and Satan-is-out-there-in-Harry-Potter type rhetoric.

Still, much of the Jesus Camp experience was strange to me. I have never been around any kind of high powered children’s events or camps. I’ve seen some tactics used in child evangelism that I was uncomfortable with, but this has been very rare. I once wrote a letter protesting our Baptist state paper’s reporting of the baptisms of five year olds in some churches, but I’ve never seen any baptisms of children that age.

I had so many reactions to the film that it would take five posts to record them all in detail. I’ll try to be brief and cover as many topics as possible in short form.

1. I don’t feel Jesus Camp was insulting or unfair. I felt there was a lot of sympathy for the sincerity of those working with the children and for the faith of the children themselves. I wouldn’t hesitate to show this film to a roomful of non-Christians, but I would ask for the opportunity to “locate” what the audience was seeing on the broader map of evangelicalism. This is part of who we are as evangelicals, and the camera doesn’t lie. (See next point.)

2. There were points that I felt the camera was making a large difference in the subjective impressions of what was being seen and heard. This absolutely included the Ted Haggard segment, but also some of the scenes involving Levi, who clearly loves the camera. One never really knows how much production and editing, and the camera itself, have changed the overall dynamics.

3. Becky’s radio interview contains an observation that “Democracy will destroy itself.” This seems to be the problem for people like Becky. They don’t want to live in a culture where those who differ from them are allowed to have an equal voice. Becky wants to control the culture and to have Christians in charge of government, even though she says nothing will be perfect till Christ returns. There was no sense that our fallenness is a problem for governing and shaping culture. Her response to the diversity that challenges our culture is to have Christians controlling the government and punishing unbelievers. This is a complete embracing of the ideas of America as “ours” and as “God’s. There were dozens of references to America as the primary stage of God’s activity. Where is the rest of the planet? (My Ethiopian students found this rather amazing.) One wonders if the logic of a civil war would meet with Becky’s approval.

4. Becky’s admiration for martyrs and Islamic radicals is truly unfortunate. Jesus is not an Islamic radical and those following him are not “God’s warriors.” The militarization of this entire segment of the culture war is frightening to everyone. It makes me sad to hear this kind of rhetoric echoed from many good men who ought to know better. Discipleship is Jesus shaped. We don’t find some misplaced, fallen example of zeal and baptize it as the work of the Holy Spirit.

5. The strategy of using highly emotional issues and highly emotional tactics creates some real concerns for me in the area of manipulation. As a public speaker and communicator, I understand how to push buttons and fan resentments and fears into motivation. If I were a person without integrity or someone ignorant of consequences, I would probably use these tactics for results. But I believe the work of the Holy Spirit is not done by my own efforts and energies. It is done by the Holy Spirit using spiritual means. What many of these adults have done is emotional abuse these kids, and say it is harmless. I believe it is potentially very damaging.

6. My students are exploring the difference in Lewis’s portrayal of the devil in The Screwtape Letters and the portrayal of the Devil in Jesus Camp. The difference is obvious. Lewis sees the devil at work on our wills, character and habits. The sins and temptations of the world and the flesh are of little interest to Screwtape. He is far more interested in pride and excused hatred and cruelty than in temptations to become an imaginary or real wizard. Jesus Camp’s version of Satan is entirely about the agenda of liberals, political issues, failure to participate in approved activities and being “worldly” in an external sense. Screwtape would find a whole world of possibilities for corruption in the world of Jesus Camp.

7. My own study of faith development leads me to believe that many of these young people will abandon this version of Christianity or Christianity entirely by the time they are young adults. The methods used here do not present enough opportunities for these young people to declare independent, become critical of their own tradition or reshape the faith into their own style. All of these are normal and expected stages in faith development. The Jesus Camp method of intense indoctrination, filling the mind with strongly prejudicial opinions and fears, and depending on emotional experiences will likely yield a harvest of discarding large portions of these experiences. This is the “dark side” of a lot of evangelical ministry to young people. With all the talk of a “solid” foundation, what they need is a movable, flexible foundation that allows them to interact with Christianity in a way that they can shape and own for themselves. Many of us know evangelical families who have learned this the hard way. It’s a rather obvious lesson. Why don’t we get it?

8. Jesus and the Gospel were almost entirely absent. Neither were particularly important. Most of what I saw and heard would work just fine in Islam or Judaism.

9. Church elders? Supervising pastor? Probably there somewhere, but it would have been nice to get some idea that Becky isn’t simply free to do whatever she believes will work.

10. Ted Haggard irony. Oh my. So sad, but as a leader it is so easy to hear and see the emptiness being covered up by the persona. I wish that most committed laypersons were savvy to the signs that someone has become flippant to the presence of God and is drinking at the wells of celebrity and narcissism. Haggard’s lines that “I know what you’re really doing and I’m going to tell” come from exactly that place in him where he’s playing with his fears and sins. There are probably thousands of ministers who are out on this same limb: empty, hurting addicted, a double life, but covering it all up with the big act in the pulpit.

I’m glad I finally watched Jesus Camp, but it was hard. I don’t want this to be part of who we are. I don’t want to see children worked into a frenzy, taught to lie and emote, told to let their egos go as they play preacher….but I started preaching at 15. In the past, I’ve allowed high school students to preach. I’ve been at more than one camp where things got way past where I wanted them to go, but the college student counselors were running the show. This is all part of me too, in a small way, and I’m grateful that the movie allowed me to see it.

Each chapter contains the parable and an extended reflection, as well as excellent discussion questions and in-depth Biblical references for deeper study. This book is really ideal for a study in a church or small group. The topics are interesting and the materials for leader use are outstanding and suggestive of many applications.

I was a bit surprised that the book is not an in-depth study of the economics of Jesus. The chapters are use more pastoral and sermonic approaches and applications than scholarly or even financial insights.

Cowan wants the book to present an alternative to those approaches to the teaching of Jesus that assume socialism or Marxism. He demonstrates that the teaching of Jesus supports a committed and faithful Christian participation in capitalism.

The book provides many parallels between the use of money and the experience of faith, as well as exploring how the use of money is an extension of obedient faith.

I was looking for more of Cowan’s financial experience to be referenced in the book. Some Christians will disagree with Cowan at particular points regarding personal finance, especially on the subject of debt.

As a small group or educational resource, I highly recommend the book. As an analysis of the economics of Jesus or a look at current financial issues with an in-depth reference to the teaching of Jesus, I would give it less of a recommendation.

A copy of this book was provided for the reviewer.

I’m also fairly pessimistic that anyone ever changes their views in any kind of debate or forum. And my experience tells me that the representative chosen to present a view may, in fact, not actually represent the view, but may be somewhere else on the ranch.

So while I was grateful to be given the opportunity to read and review Gordon Smith’s compilation volume on The Lord’s Supper: Five Views, I was prepared for the book to be a mixed bag.

One of the book’s strong points is the assembled cast of advocates and critics. From the IVP website, here’s the assembled presenters/responders:

The Roman Catholic View–Brother Jeffrey Gros, F.S.C., Professor of Church History, Memphis Theological Seminary, Memphis, Tennessee. The Lutheran View–John R. Stephenson, Professor of Historical Theology, Concordia Lutheran Theological Seminary, St. Catherines, Ontario. The Reformed View–Leanne Van Dyk, Academic Dean and Professor of Reformed Theology, Western Theological Seminary, Holland, Michigan. The Baptist View–Roger E. Olson, Professor of Theology, George W. Truett Theological Seminary, Waco, Texas. The Pentecostal View–Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Professor of Systematic Theology, Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California.

Strong Points:

1) The book is short. The essays are not over-done and the responses are short. The entire book makes for a quick read. With this topic, that’s merciful.

2) Rancor is absent….mostly Just enough Baptist frustration at the Lutherans to make it interesting.

3) The presenter of the Pentecostal view was dishing out a lot of surprises to the rest of the crew. Apparently Pentecostals don’t talk about this sort of thing very often. Healing in the Supper and all that. Very interesting.

4) I think any layperson with an interest in comparing various views of the Lord’s Supper without having to read 5 systematic theology texts will be well served by this book.

Weak points:

1) I think Anglicanism or Methodism should be represented in this discussion. Puzzling. (HT To Amy Welborn: Where are the Orthodox as well? Thanks Amy.)

2) The Baptist discussion was about historical diversity in talking about the meaning of the supper. That’s an important discussion that needs to be heard. But I would have liked to see some analysis of the Biblical texts, particularly the compelling evidence that the Lord’s Supper is a revisioned Passover meal. This point has major implications in favor of the Baptist view.

3) Roger Olson’s analysis of the Lutheran view says that the Lutheran view is “squarely” Roman. I’d like to know more about that accusation given the differences in the actual practice of the LS in Lutheranism. For example, there is no eucharistic adoration in Lutheranism. The place of the eucharist in Lutheran preaching is markedly different from the eucharist’s place in RC preaching.

4) A brief summary outline of each position preceding the essay would have probably made the essays more generally usable and even more understandable. An overall visual of the ways these views can be “charted” would have also been helpful.

Overall, this is a well done and interesting volume. Students of the Lord’s Supper will want to read it and it suggests many areas for further study and writing.

The Baptist Hymnal (also called The Worship Hymnal) 2008 has been reviewed at Isaiah Six and if you are interested in worship music check this out. This hymnal project is the first to begin to use the abilities of the internet to expand both the content of the hymnal and the online resources to use along with it.

I’ve been looking at my copy for a couple of weeks, and I am thoroughly impressed.

Check out the review and acquire a copy.

Garrison’s book was especially interesting to me because it is heavily weighted toward alternative church experiments among Anglicans, Episcopalians and other liturgical churches. Many of those interviewed discuss the adaptation of liturgical/eucharistic-centered worship to alternative and emerging formats. This is a kind of discussion that’s quite fascinating and revealing, not just for its risk-taking, creative spirit, but for the honesty about what’s proven of value and what’s failed. And YES, failure is a frequent topic. There’s plenty of honesty in this book, both about numbers, questions, questions and seeming impossibilities.

The format of Rising From the Ashes is original, but it suffers from a feeling of being a bit too raw and “scattered.” I’m sure more than a few people will say that Garrison could have used one or two more passes through an editorial process before sending the book out. It is a book that will be far better understood by “insiders” to this movement than to those with initial curiosity.

The book contains much material from those doing alternative worship in the U.K. The fact that the situation there is somewhat different than in America made some of the material less accessible to me, as I don’t have much of a detailed knowledge of the church situation in the UK.

Peter Rollins has some outstanding material in this book. I’ve struggled with some of Rollins’ writing, but his interview answers were very understandable. N.T. Wright makes a brief appearance, as does Brian Mclaren, Karen Ward, Spencer Burke and dozens of people whose names I’d never heard. This is a sourcebook from across the theological spectrum and it will bring many readers “out of their box” when they read it. A real plus for the book is the outstanding library of print and internet resources listed for the reader.

Those interested in the ongoing development of alternative worship, missional churches, hospitality, evangelism, church renewal and ecclesiology will find plenty here of interest. As a scrapbook/time capsule of the emerging church, it’s quite interesting. As an organized presentation, it’s not what you are looking for.

I received a free copy of the book.

In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis talks about the spiritual values of simple pleasures. There are a world of things, Screwtape says, that the “enemy” doesn’t mind humans doing at all: sleeping, eating, making love, working, going for walks, reading and so on. Allowing humans to experience these simple, but real, parts of God’s creation order will have genuine consequences that will make Wormwood’s work of temptation much more difficult.

Simplicity, however, is a complicated subject for western Christians. We need all the help available to us to take “baby steps” toward lives that are less complicated, more loving toward our neighbors and more useful to the Kingdom.

A number of evangelical voices have held forth on the subject of simplicity, from St. Francis to John Wesley to Richard Foster. Paul Borthwick’s book Simplify: 106 Ways to Uncomplicate Your Life takes up C.S. Lewis’s insight, avoids the long theological explanations, and goes right to a list of practical suggestions that will benefit anyone.

Paul Borthwick has been writing “missionally relevant” material for many years, and those of us who have tried to foster a “world Christian” emphasis in our discipleship have benefitted from his work. With this book, Borthwick provides a wealth of ideas that are especially appropriate for families looking to reevaluate their ideas of an “appropriate” lifestyle in the light of Kingdom priorities.

Borthwick is open that he wants to address both the over-stressed and over-hyped lifestyle of the average American while also promoting the ability of American Christians to use their economic power and options to change the economic realities of world divided into prosperity and poverty. At the same time, what he offers will be better for us as individuals: healthier, less expensive and more satisfying.

This is a book with a diverse flavor mixing serious change and personal enrichment and enjoyment. It is a thoroughly Christian book, but much of what it has to say can be appreciated by anyone who wants to be more responsible and live less stressfully.

Each of the book’s seven sections begins with a brief essay on the topic being considered, followed by numbered and even more briefly described suggestions for changes to make and choices to consider.

The book looks at stress, want vs. need, fitness, leisure, time, choices and the overall benefits of simplification. A helpful appendix deals with ten principles for encouraging a world Christian lifestyle.

This book is, itself, very simple, an easy read, and accessible to almost anyone. But its ideas and suggestions can make a serious and world-changing difference. It would be an excellent book to share with young adults who might ask “What can we do now?”

Maybe. Life After Church is a book many of my readers will appreciate.

I think Sanders gets many things right. I certainly appreciated his emphasis on scripture; a gift to all of us, by the way, from the church of the past. His helpful and pastoral advice to those leaving the church is mature and practical.

Sanders also has a wonderful grasp of the mission of the church, and he’s very capable at making that mission central and appealing. His vision for the church is a positive and enthusiastic vision that will benefit every reader.

Big time applause on the important place of questions and especially the frequency of the Lord’s Supper. Despite a puzzling claim to want leaders who aren’t accountable to structures above them, Sanders’ view of team leadership in church is right on target.

And Sanders knows many of the exact problems that can and should be addressed as churches are reinvented, revisioned and replanted in the world that needs a missional, servant hearted church excited about the Kingdom of God.

Most of all, Sanders helps all his readers see through the eyes and experiences of those who are “leaving” the church in some way, whether they’ve left physically or not. He identifies where churches fail and leavers feel compelled to move on. His diagnosis that churches don’t know what to do with mature members called to ministry outside the walls is outstanding.

But reading Sanders is painful for me. The emerging reinvention of the church has so much in it that I want to affirm. In fact, I’ve been trying to affirm it for more than three decades, going back to the early work of Findlay Edge, Elton Trueblood, Keith Miller and Howard Snyder. (Yes Virginia, there were these same books being written BEFORE Brian Mclaren.) The problem is that my experience of the traditional church, while similar to Sanders, is also much richer and varied, with much more worth valuing.

The church Sanders wants to leave is the church many emergers want to leave, but it’s the church many people in mid-life and their senior years want to be part of. (Are books like Life After Church written for people over 50?) It may be less ambitious, more traditionally programed, more into funding and partnering than leading out, but it’s also the church that visits the nursing homes, provides major funding for the community pantry, builds and maintains a youth center, pays a Christian counselor and has its pastors doing a remarkable amount of pastoral care in the community. In other words, the landscape may look bleak as Sanders describes it, but for pastors and area ministers on the ground in the traditional church, there is real ministry happening, and much of it commendable.

When Sanders shares a story of a rotten church doing cruel and mindless things, it makes me angry along with him. I’ve been in some of those battles and I know the terrain. But those stories of homeless men not fed unless they came to church are not the majority report among traditional churches that care about the homeless. Traditional churches can do things right, too. No joke.

Yes, I will go to the front of the line to share “stupid church tricks” stories. All of Sanders painful examples on insensitivity and blindness to mission are well worth your quarter. But I work at a ministry supported by traditional churches for more than a century. Hundreds of their volunteers build our buildings and donate vast amounts of time and material resources. Traditional churches give us clothes, food and farm assistance. They pay for kids to be at our school, and they pay, in cooperation with other churches and individually, 65% of our multi-million dollar budget. Most of the people who do that are decidedly un-twenty something, un-emerging and so traditional they scare even me.

When Sanders talks about the church of the New Testament and all its awesomely amazing characteristics, ministries and priorities, I find myself turning some pages. What New Testament church are we talking about? Corinth? Revelation 2-3? According to Stark, Hirsch and others writing about the early church, the early church wasn’t anyone’s ideal or ministry. It was God’s instrument for developing Christians who penetrated their culture. And any church, no matter what its form or shape, can be God’s instrument in its community to do many things right.

Lots of churches drop the ball, and stay or leave, we need to deplore that. But many churches also go far beyond the either/or’s that dominate Sander’s descriptions. Churches- whether they are megas or storefronts, rural or urban, twenty-something or multi-generational, denominational or independent, by the book or by the seat of their pants, are never as simple as critics (like me) want them to be.

I hope that Sanders’ book inspires thousands of new works, micro-church networks and missional communities. Someone started our missional community 109 years ago to stop Kentucky mountaineers from killing each other, and we are still here educating children and doing God’s work. I pray all the missional diversity, dreaming and drive Sanders wants to see in the church comes to pass. We need many, many more churches of every kind. Sanders’ book is a good encouragement in that direction.

Two final notes. At some point I am going to write a major piece on the relation of Jesus, the Gospel, the Kingdom and the Church. The reason is that many very passionate and well-meaning missional Christians are equating all of these things in ways that are not helpful. The Church is not the Kingdom. It’s crucial to know how the church and the Kingdom interact. The agenda of many missionals to be the Kingdom, yet to reject the structure, confessionalism and traditions of the church is not wise and ultimately, is short-sighted. My post-evangelical contribution to this discussion is to urge we keep what is good and leave what is bad. No church can be all things in the Kingdom, but every church is a sign and witness of the Kingdom.

Finally, I believe there are other reasons Christians leave church that Sanders did not cover. I have a family member who has moved toward Roman Catholicism. His/her leaving is not about mission. It’s about sacraments and the theology of the Roman Catholic eucharist. There is a kind of inevitable leaving in the life cycles of many people, especially in their college years. People will leave the emerging churches, too, for reasons that sound a lot like the traditional church.

Boring hymns, boring sermons and boring programs beg for answers in the emerging conversation. Sanders writes as a Protestant evangelical committed to many things passionately assumed to be crucial to some Christians, but of surprising little interest to others. The missional/emerging church is a kind of church renewal movement, but most Christians won’t be leaving their churches for such movements. How can the missional church offer its insights without becoming elitist and yet another round of restorationists claiming to be the first ones to actually read the New Testament correctly? At some point, we need to get beyond that conversation to a discussion that truly encompasses the church as we find it in the broadest reality of the Body of Christ.

If evangelicalism follows the route I have predicted in these pages, Sanders and other emerging leaders will get their shot at being the church. I expect them to do well, but will they bring along the good things the church has found, done and believed along the way? Or will the emerging church clear the landscape of everything the traditional church offers, all in the name of a necessary “housecleaning?”

(I was supplied a copy of this book for review.)