Carnegie and Notorious B.I.G. meet Lazarus and the rich man

"The man who dies thus rich dies disgraced." -Andrew Carnegie, in "Wealth," 1889.

Andrew Carnegie

As I'm reading up for Confirmation today, I ran across this Carnegie quote, which the Here We Stand curriculum uses in its deep prep for the story of Lazarus and the rich man (Luke 16:19-31). Taken on its own, this is a remarkable call to the aid of the neighbor. Taken in terms of stories like the one from Luke's 16th chapter this is poignant advice for the eschaton.

Unfortunately, the HWS curriculum goes on to talk about how the ELCA lives into this kind of practice through its many umbrella programs and agencies. Fair enough, but let's try not to make this abhorrently self-aggrandizing now. I don't think Carnegie would pat us on the back for our menial efforts and, to that point, I doubt that Luke would say we have given away nearly enough. But even more infuriating is that the curriculum poses exactly the question that young people have, namely "Does this story mean that all rich and powerful people go to hell?" And then it doesn't even attempt to offer an answer... or better yet a promise. Instead, the apparent goal is to get youth to see that life is unfair but it evens out in the end.

Is that really what Jesus is all about?

In some sense I think you can get this idea from scripture, e.g. "Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain" (Isaiah 40:4), and "‘Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God'" (Matthew 19:23-24). However, both are rather piecemeal understandings of the promise. Yes, wealth is a detriment to faith; it's not hard to see the reasons why. The more stuff we have, the easier it is to set that stuff up on our altars before God. But God isn't exactly deterred by the stuff we throw in his way. The Matthew snippet above is often given without the oh-so-important exchange that follows:

"When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded and said, ‘Then who can be saved?’ But Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible'"(Matthew 19:25-26).

The problem with the parable of the rich man and Lazarus is that it pushes punishment and reward into the eschaton. This seems, at first, to be a rather fair way to deal with sin in the grand scheme of things. A life full of misdeed equals eternal punishment; a life full of poverty equals eternal life. Everything balances out in the end. And yet, Matthew 19 illustrates that we are all rich... and poor. Few, if any of us, are so easily categorized. This is, by the way, one of the problems with movements like Occupy that suggest we are the 99%. Sure, but you're also the 1% compared to children in Uganda or rice paddy workers in south China. Do you really want to play that game with Jesus?

Wealth as pathology

Perhaps the greatest lie we tell ourselves is that wealth is honorable, and that it is a symbol of security for those we love. In truth, it is a status symbol that speaks a constant word of self-importance that runs contrary to the heart of everything that Jesus is after. Money itself is neutral, but in its accumulation we ascribe meaning to the money itself. At a certain point it goes beyond dollars in your pocket and becomes "wealth."

If you watch the news it should be clear that wealth (and the fame that precedes or follows it) is more pathology than blessing. Whitney Houston is another in a long string of people who "had it all" only to realize that "it all" feels a lot like a crushing weight of depression and purposelessness soothed only by more of the very things that cause the disease. Wealth is a burden not only because it is deserving of far-off punishment, but primarily because it harms our relationships--the things that ultimately matter most to us--today.

So, instead of speaking in terms of ultimate justice, as if God is going to balance the scales in the end so that poor people experience material wealth and rich people experience material poverty, we should heed the words that Jesus gives us immediately before the rich man and Lazarus account:

"The law and the prophets were in effect until John came; since then the good news of the kingdom of God is proclaimed, and everyone is constrained to enter" (Luke 16:16, my translation).

The good news of the kingdom is that security blankets are unnecessary; in fact, they are things that must be shed before Christ. In this light, the parable is not so much about the rich man getting what he deserves, as it is a cautionary tale to strip away those things keeping us from fulfillment in both the future and the present.

As the wise prophet, Notorious B.I.G., once said, "Mo' money; mo' problems." In one area at least, he and Carnegie are strikingly alike.

The "Afterlife": An Exercise in Self-Interest

I've been inspired lately by an article in Christianity Today by Russell Moore, entitled A Purpose-Driven Cosmos: Why Jesus Doesn't Promise Us an 'Afterlife'. To my mind, this gets to the heart of the Christian faith in a way that most Christian theologians, for whatever reason, seem incapable of doing. We get so caught up in minutiae that we forget how to sum it all up. If I asked many pastors or other educated Christian believers what the summation of the Gospel is I suspect I would get a lot of answers ranging from "God loves you" to "Jesus Christ died for you" to "Jesus defeated sin" ad infinitum. All of these are true, but is that really the simplest form of the Gospel?

Moore suggest 'no' and I'm finding I agree.

Is it really for you?
 
In the Lutheran tradition, we get caught up in the proclamation of the "for you," which is often couched in phrases like "Jesus Christ died for you" and The body of Christ given for you." In fact, many of us were taught that these are the most important words to get across in proclaiming the Gospel. It was drilled into us that the reason we need to emphasize the individual is to avoid generalities. We were supposed to make the message memorable and above all specific. However, in making the Gospel promise particular we have channeled our inner Nietzsche and conceived it in terms of self-interest.

I can see the point; in fact, until I read Moore's article I was right in that camp. I never stopped to think that in our rush to make the message specific to the individual who hears it we might in fact be distorting the subject of the message itself. Most Christians of any persuasion would probably agree that the Gospel centers on Jesus and is not primarily about us, and yet most Christians would also then go about proclaiming Christ in terms that steer us toward an individual concept of salvation.

Heaven is... not for real?

This is lived out in the way that we talk about death and the "afterlife." If you polled people in the church about what they believe is awaiting them personally after death I believe you would get a pretty universal result across denominations and traditions. Some far-left groups might not believe in any afterlife, while some far-right groups might believe that they will be the only ones in an afterlife; but most everybody else will probably fall into the camp of those who believe that they are heading directly to heaven, do not pass "Go," do not collect $200. End of story.

Now, I'm not dumb enough to ever suggest to a family in the midst of grief over loss that their family member isn't in heaven straight away, but in the relative safety of this blog--and with readers who are hopefully at least a degree removed from that kind of grief--let me be frank: the Christian tradition does not proclaim that death is followed by heaven. The "afterlife" is not a second life at all. Here, Moore says it so much better than I could, so I leave it to him:

Perhaps we dread death less from fear than from boredom, thinking the life to come will be an endless postlude to where the action really happens. This is betrayed in how we speak about the "afterlife": it happens after we've lived our lives. The kingdom, then, is like a high-school reunion in which middle-aged people stand around and remember the "good old days." But Jesus doesn't promise an "afterlife." He promises us life—and that everlasting. Your eternity is no more about looking back to this span of time than your life now is about reflecting on kindergarten. 

So what is life everlasting? It's all about resurrection in Christ, death and new life; not death and heaven. Finally, this takes us back to what should have been our primary proclamation all along, and that is Jesus Christ as the entirety of God's purpose for the universe. Jesus Christ did not come to bring us into some divine postlude. He came to give substance to the shadow that is creation without him. Everything, therefore, is Christ-drenched and therefore on the path to being redeemed and re-made in the end as a creation that is only the logical conclusion to our earlier life. So, it's OK to realize that Jesus Christ died for you, as long as you also realize that this does not make you uniquely special.

True second-article Christianity
 
I know some of my Lutheran friends to whom I recommended Moore's article have found some joy in the line: "For too long, we've called unbelievers to "invite Jesus into your life." Jesus doesn't want to be in your life. Your life's a wreck. Jesus calls you into his life." And for good reason, this is simply a great way to say what should be obvious enough. But I fear that in finding the brilliance in this statement we've excluded ourselves from its implications. This is a direct assault on the for you. Jesus isn't entering your life when you commune; he isn't coming to you in the proclamation of the Gospel. He's calling you into himself; he's calling you into the grand purpose for all of creation. Lutherans are so scared of this kind of language that I'm certain I am raising their blood to a boil. I can hear you thinking, perhaps screaming aloud: Works righteousness! Works righteousness!

Shh... sit down. Be quiet. And listen.

The call language has nothing to do with our ability or capability of actively accepting Christ. Nothing. Faith remains not ours to earn. It is in some sense a gift, though I find the language of gift somewhat unsatisfactory because it suggests again, however implicitly, that is about us. If only we had a metaphor for grace that centers not on our reward but on the one through whom it comes (Ten points to whoever comes up with that one!). Until then, our challenge is a simple one: Stop thinking that the Gospel message is purposed for your benefit. Get over the "afterlife." You won't be able to stop making it about you. Instead, see Jesus again as the "firstborn from the dead" (Colossians 1:18); the new creation manifest; the purpose for the cosmos. That is the promise. The rest is fluff.

Blink: A 2012 Reading Challenge Book (#9)

This year the goal is to read 60 books on a variety of subject matter--fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, theology, the environment, pop culture, science, etc.

To see my progress or check my other reviews click the page link above entitled, "2012 Reading Challenge"

Back Bay Books, 2005

 Blink by Malcolm Gladwell

Review

There is something about Malcolm Gladwell that I just love to listen to on road trips. So, yes, I may have cheated in listening to this as an audio book, but since this is my challenge, I make the rules. This book struck me as somewhat less interesting than Outliers; its conclusions seem a little convoluted for one and there seems to be much less upside to what Gladwell is talking about. However, with that said, the book will get you to think about... well... how you think. While the conclusions aren't very straight-forward, the analysis of our thinking processes is something we don't often consider. It got me thinking. It helped me understand some of why I think and act how I do. It brought insight into my chess game and even my understanding of faith and thought. I think that whatever you bring to Blink you will come away with great new thoughts and perhaps even understanding, regardless of where you fall into the conclusions.

Recommendation

If you're into the science of how we think, or interested in how it is that we perceive the world, then this is a fascinating book. Gladwell is willing to challenge some long-held assumptions about thought, and I found myself agreeing with some of the radical conclusions he came to. This is not the kind of book for which you need to be a true believer in the methodology or conclusions to enjoy and for that I think it has achieved a deservedly wide readership. And as I said before, it's a great audio book!

Grade:

B

The Second Tri-Annual Fantasy Box Office Draft

Last night, six of us gathered around a table to play some poker and, more importantly, draft movies that are released in the next four months. For a third of the year our movies will battle against one-another for the grand prize of $60. Six will enter, one will come out victorious. As your reigning champion, I know only that this time our draft was smarter, our picks better and our rules greatly improved.

Each person gets $100 fake money to bid on a roster of 6 movies. They are also allowed to "pick up" 2 movies during the season. Movies score based on top 10 weekly box office receipts. Pretty simple. With no further ado, the draft.

The Avengers
Winning Bid: $48 to Frank

I had this projected #1 for this season and I was willing to go big to get it. Also, I figured some movies I liked would slip through the cracks, so it wasn't a big deal to spend this kind of money to get it (By the way, this is the same total that Twilight went for last season, but it finished only third overall in our format. I'm hoping for more than that.)

The Hunger Games
Winning Bid: $49 to Pipp

Excited to see the movie. It will do well. Well enough to justify Pipp's big price? I dunno. I see this as a top 5 movie, but it could be anywhere between 1-5 and spending top dollar could come back to bite Joe.

The Lorax
Winning Bid: $20 to Kate

The absolute steal of the draft came third overall. Everybody panicked. We were spending a lot on the first two movies and Kate jumped all over this. I would have bid against her, except she probably would have killed me. I told her I would have gone as high as $32, even already having The Avengers. Anyway, a great pick. Could be the #1 movie of this season and for only 1/5 of her budget.

Battleship
Winning Bid: $31 to Steve

This starts a trend of movies that went for about the price I thought they should. This will do well and the bidding went up accordingly. After all, it's basically Transformers on water.

21 Jump Street
Winning Bid: $23 to Niemi

The only problem with this pick is that Pipp took the bidding up to $22, making Niemi get it for $23 instead of the much more poetic $21.

Men in Black III
Winning Bid: $48 to Steve

Steve already knows where I stand on this. I think he overpaid. I have this as the 7th best movie of the season in part because it will only get five weeks to run before the end of the season and largely because there are a lot of big movies coming out in June (Snow White... Madagascar... Prometheus... Rock of Ages... Abraham Lincoln:Vampire Hunter... Brave) I'd be scared it gets swallowed up after a first week #1. (For the record I have it going 1, 2, 4, 6, 9 in the five weeks)

The Raven
Winning Bid: $24 to Frank

The macabre, murder-mystery thriller starring John Cusack as Edgar Allen Poe looks like a fantastic film. The tricky part is it comes out with three other wide releases. Whichever of those comes out #1 should have a great run with only The Avengers in the next week. I liked the price.

Snow White and the Huntsman
Winning Bid: $27 to Kate

How to value movies with June releases? On the one hand, it's hard to say Kate has much upside here (It will only be in theaters 4 weeks), but then again if it's a sure thing to stay in the top ten it could still be a top 10 movie for the season.

John Carter
Winning Bid: $28 to Allan

Allan finally gets a movie and, as Steve said, it looks like a really stupid one. But as I proved last season with Jack and Jill, bad does not necessarily equal bad at the box office. I like this pick actually. It got a spot during the Super Bowl and people will go because it's Disney.

The Three Stooges
Winning Bid: $15 to Allan

Allan goes back-to-back with good picks. This movie might have a low ceiling, but it is also a pretty safe choice. I'm not sure how the stooges humor will play with our generation, but I can't imagine it doesn't get some play.

Pirates! Band of Misfits
Winning Bid: $17 to Niemi

Another of the four wide releases on April 27 (and by the way, the only one I don't own), I was scared by the stop animation. Adventures of Tintin had different animation, but I can't help but think it'll play similarly, and it pretty well bombed out of last season's Box Office League. So, I was scared, but we'll see. Not a bad price to take a chance.

Wrath of the Titans
Winning Bid: $12 to Pipp

Good price. Low-risk, high-reward. Sequels are a good bet to do alright. Well, except for Happy Feet Two. Come to think of it, no, I don't think this movie will do well, but whatever... not a bad price. OK, I'm already sick of talking about a Titans sequel. Let's move on.

Titanic 3D
Winning Bid: $22 to Kate

I really like Kate's team (and no, I'm not just saying that). I can see why people were scared; Beauty and the Beast and Star Wars: The Phantom Menace have been big disappointments in season 1. But I can't help but think Titanic is different. This is exactly the kind of movie people are waiting for, and it was obviously one of the biggest movies ever on its initial release. I'd expect it to do more in line with The Lion King than the latest 3D flops. Also, it comes out at a good time.

What to Expect When You're Expecting
Winning Bid: $18 to Kate

I told Kate that she could probably get this one cheap, since she's bidding against a bunch of guys. Actually, the price ended up being about right. I expect this movie to open 3rd, but it could very well last 5-6 weeks in the top ten.

A Thousand Words
Winning Bid: $5 to Pipp

For those of you keeping score at home, Pipp now has three March movies... out of 3.

American Reunion
Winning Bid: $7 to Allan

Lesson #1 of Fantasy Box Office: Don't draft with your heart. But I just couldn't even pretend to want this movie. Thanks for taking it, Allan. I feel better for not having it.

The Dictator
Winning Bid: $23 to Niemi

Overpriced for my liking. Has Cohen ever done anything that's a real hit at the box office? Borat was funny, but I don't think it set the box office on fire. This looks worse than that.

Project X
Winning Bid: $20 to Allan

The nice part about drafting movies that come out in the first week of the season is that you know what you've got pretty quickly. If this movie opens #2 it's a good pick, but if any of the February movies stay in front of it, it would be a problem.

Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted
Winning Bid: $14 to Pipp

The funny part is that Pipp said he didn't even bring a list of movies that come out in June. Then he bid and won on a movie with a June 8 release date. Three weeks of this movie should still be quite good, though, and I expect it to score 20+ points, which would make it a good value. No upside, though.

Mirror Mirror
Winning Bid: $12 to Allan

The Snow White movies are out in full force. I don't know about this one. Julia Roberts is nice, but Snow White doesn't look, you know, pretty. And that seems kind of important when she's supposed to be fairest of them all, isn't it? Especially when you have two other Snow Whites in Once Upon a Time (Ginnifer Goodwin) and Snow White and the Huntsman (Kristen Stewart) who are attractive (and one of them can even act!).

Rock of Ages
Winning Bid: $4 to Kate

Good, cheap movie. She'll only get two weeks of play so the ceiling is awfully low. It'll be 10-16 points and for the value that's not so bad.

Scary Movie V
Winning Bid: $1 to Allan

Allan's last movie pick is a bit strange. This isn't in wide release and the only question is whether it ever cracks the top ten.

The Cabin in the Woods
Winning Bid: $8 to Niemi

I like this pick. The movie looks interesting; a mash of horror-comedy-thriller-sci-fi-drama-action-mystery flick. I really don't know what to make of it. People may be intrigued and see it, or confused and avoid it.

Chimpanzee
Winning Bid: $8 to Steve

This should be the most successful Earth Day picture in the history of these Disney Nature pics. The problem is that none of them have been very successful. Last year's African Cats opened 6th. This should open top 4, but I don't see it much higher than that and I doubt it lasts more than three weeks in the top ten.

Dark Shadows
Winning Bid: $19 to Niemi

I wanted this one, but the bidding just got too high. This could be a huge surprise movie this season. It opens the week after The Avengers so a #1 seems a bit too much to hope for, but realistically opening at #2 is a possibility. If it can stay in the top ten 5-6 weeks this could be an absolute steal.

The Lucky One
Winning Bid: $9 to Kate

The moral of the story is that Kate will draft all Nicholas Sparks novels-turned-to-movies. This is probably about the right price and a very safe pick, as long as women still exist on the planet come April 20. If so, she'll be fine.

The Five-Year Engagement
Winning Bid: $7 to Frank

The second movie I drafted that comes out April 27. It's like handcuffing your Running Back in Fantasy Football, and at a safe price.

Iron Sky
Winning Bid: $1 to Niemi

Worth a flier. Why not? Steve hit one on the head with Chronicle last season and this is similar to that pick. Joe will be hoping for similar production.

Bullet to the Head
Winning Bid: $5 to Pipp

Eh, don't like this so much. Filling out the roster, I get it, but I don't see this doing well.

Silent House
Winning Bid: $5 to Frank

Horror movies are just safe picks (at least ones in wide release). Plus, this is an early season release. It won't open higher than third, but four weeks of play in the top ten aren't out of the question.

Chernobyl Diaries
Winning Bid: $1 to Steve

Steve trying to channel another Chronicle pick. Who knows? There's almost no info on this flick, but it's supposed to be a wide release. Could be a steal.

Casa de mi Padre
Winning Bid: $6 to Pipp

Wow. No idea what to make of this. Somebody had to draft it, right? Will anybody see this? Will I see this? How can I not? And if I'm compelled to see Will Ferrell with Spanish subtitles won't other people? I'm already regretting not bidding on this movie. And yet, who the hell knows?

Prometheus
Winning Bid: $1 to Frank

Three weeks of top ten production for $1? I'll take it. 20 points is possible. 17-18 points is more realistic and would be just fine.

Safe
Winning Bid: $15 to Frank

It was just Steve and I, and he nominated the movie at the top of my list. So, I ended up with three April 27 releases. I feel good about that because not much comes out after it; just The Avengers the next week (which I also own). Could I have four in the top five for two weeks in a row? A definite possibility. The points are racking up in my head already.

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
Winning Bid: $1 to Steve

Brave
Winning Bid: $1 to Steve

I'll combine these two last picks because they have a single, unified problem: They only get one week of play time. One week. That means a ceiling of 10 points each. 19 points between the two of them. That's a problem, as much as Steve wants to suggest otherwise. I would have taken a flier on Think Like a Man or Seeking Justice at this point, but that's what the waiver wire's for!

Good luck!

The Jesus-train chugging toward the cross

A sermon on Jesus healing the leper

            I’m not sure any variety of Biblical story elicits as many different responses as stories of healing, especially—as with the leper today—stories of miraculous healing.

There are two camps who have strong reactions to these stories. There are those who have experienced a miraculous healing in their life or in the life of a loved one, and then there are those who have known somebody who should have been healed, who should not have suffered through cancer or some other dreadful disease, but their life was cut short; they found no miracle.

The difficulty we have is that Jesus could heal the leper without him asking; he could heal all the sick in town, no problem; he could heal all the world in an instant. Yet, it takes an instance of being moved by pity for him to act.

            “If you choose,” says the leper, “you can make me clean.”

            I find it fascinating that the leper—standing face to face with God-incarnate—fully expects Jesus to ignore him; it doesn’t seem like he anticipates anything to come of this. Then, I find it even more fascinating that Jesus plays into that picture of himself as well; it honestly seems like he does not want to heal, but the leper gets in his way and it takes that moment of pity for him to do it. And then, even when he does heal, he sternly warns the leper not to tell anybody what happened.

            What is going on here?

            A few years ago I was working as a chaplain in the CPE program at Unity Hospital in Fridley, Minnesota, when I was paged to be with a family after the sudden death of their mother. It was pretty standard stuff as far as chaplaincy goes; nobody was in deep emotional distress, it wasn’t 3 o’clock in the morning, thank God; all was well as far as I was concerned. But I remember this visit because the daughter had a question on her mind that I could see bubbling beneath the surface of our entire conversation, and it came out eventually something like this. She asked, “My four-year-old niece had leukemia, and she died last year. Why did God allow that to happen?”

            This story might be slightly off-track, but aren’t these the same questions we often bring to a healing story? I wonder if the reason why Jesus is so cautious to heal anybody is because then people will expect it for everybody. In fact, that’s the next question—isn’t it?—why doesn’t he just get it all done with? No more disease, death, or suffering.

            Well, to approach an answer to that question we need to take a good, hard look at Mark’s gospel and find what Jesus’ purpose is. The Gospel of Mark moves so quickly, like a freight train toward its conclusion, that we hardly have a moment to breathe in-between healings and exorcisms, and preaching in parables. Just about every new paragraph begins with “Immediately” or “Jesus went at once.” Never do we get a break; never does the action stop. It’s sort of like those Nicholas Cage, National Treasure movies. They don’t care about character development at all; it’s just one shallow, runaway train all the way to the conclusion that you can see coming from a mile away. If we only had Mark’s gospel we might assume that the entirety of Jesus’ ministry on earth was a few days spent moving with incredible speed from one location to another. And the only thing stopping the Jesus-train is that giant roadblock at the end of the tracks in the form of the cross. That is where Mark is going and he’s not stopping the story even for an instant to dwell on lesser points. For Mark, the cross means everything. The healings? They don’t matter. The exorcisms? Nope. Raising the dead? Not even close. It’s the cross, the cross, the cross.

            The only ones who Jesus heals are those who seem get in his way; a by-product of what he’s preaching on the way to being crucified. It’s strange, weird really; Mark’s gospel more than any of the rest offends what we would like to see. And that is because Mark is not interested in what Jesus does; he’s interested in where he’s going. He recognizes that healing is nice, but disease and death are going to come back. Every time Lazarus is raised, he must die again. The point of the story is not that Jesus can heal; it is the words of the centurion looking at Jesus dead on the cross and saying, “Surely this man is the son of God.”

            God is in the business of redeeming the whole creation; through healing, yes, but primarily through death and resurrection. This is not an answer to why there is suffering in the world—please don’t hear it as that! It is no justification for illness. Instead, it is the promise on the far side of the pain.

            This may seem a bit unhelpful to those who are sick, so I want to clarify one thing. Sometimes, our most immediate need is for healing, and when that is the case by all means get in Jesus’ way; be the leper standing in front of Christ so he cannot ignore you. Pray with the kind of certainly the leper has; Jesus can heal you; sometimes he will do just that. However, if you are healed, like the leper, Jesus is going to tell you to keep it quiet, because that isn’t the moral of the story. Of course, also like the leper you’re not going to listen and you’re going to tell everybody. But Jesus has a good reason for this warning. And for those of you who have experienced a lack of healing you know why. The proclamation of healing does not sound like good news to one who is unhealed.

            I can’t help but think that Jesus knows us much better than we know ourselves. I can imagine the despair he would have if the primary reason we believed in him was because we were healed in God’s name. Healing happens; God is fully capable of doing miracles here and now, and we should pray and pray without ceasing. But that is not why we should believe. Our cue comes from Mark—the cross, the cross, the cross. At the foot of the cross; there is the promise. Healing is nice, but healing is temporary. The sacrifice on the cross is once and for all; redemption beyond the ills of this world.

With Good Friday the world spins out of control. Then on Easter everything is turned upside down. Death—meet resurrection. Hell—meet heaven. Life as we knew it could never again be the same, and it wasn’t because Jesus was healed.

The cross shows us that miracles come in all degrees and varieties: to some extent what doctors do every day is a miracle. But you will never be able to parse what is God and what is human in the healing of sickness. You will only guess that God is involved and invoke the miraculous when science can’t explain it. This is not the purest form of proclamation.

When you proclaim Christ, it is right to focus on where Christ is finally and most evidently present. This is at the cross, dying for you, so that you no longer need the healing you desire. Get in Jesus’ way and you are likely to get healed, but don’t expect him to stay around and brag. He’s on a runaway train at breakneck speed heading for the only place that matters; the only destination worth preaching: the cross, the cross, the cross.

And with that, I’ll see you in Lent.

Amen.

The Fisherman's Guide to Life: A 2012 Reading Challenge Book (#8)

This year the goal is to read 60 books on a variety of subject matter--fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, theology, the environment, pop culture, science, etc.

To see my progress or check my other reviews click the page link above entitled, "2012 Reading Challenge"

 

1996, Walnut Grove Press

 The Fisherman's Guide to Life: Nine Timeless Principles Based on the Lessons of Fishing by Criswell Freeman

Review

OK, so this felt a little like cheating. I read it while on the stationary bike today in 30 minutes. But I needed it, and it's full of so many great pearls of wisdom that, screw it, I don't really feel bad at all. The book is a collection of quotes from philosophers, fisherman, and other authorities. Some I'd heard; many were brand new. Basically, after 30 minutes of this I was ready to break out the rod and reel.

Recommendation

This is the kind of thing fisherman should have in the boat for when the fish aren't biting. It's just good. There's not much else to it.

Grade: A

The Internet and the Rise of Underhanded Power

A year or so ago I read through Robert Farrar Capon's Kingdom, Grace, Judgment: Paradox, Vindication and Outrage in Jesus' Parables. It was a formative book in my understanding of theology in that it gave me words to talk about power, specifically the different kinds of power at work in the world. Capon calls the powers of this world right-handed power. Right-handed power will punch you in the face, arrest you or shoot you with a gun. Fights are all about right-handed power; wars use right-handed power. Jesus, however, was about left-handed--or sacrificial--power. For Jesus, power was giving up the self and telling the right-handed powers, No, I will not play by your rules. Left-handed power looks a lot like weakness until its very conclusion, when death has its say, and then the balance switches and what had seemed to be weakness before is demonstrated incontrovertibly as the most powerful power of all.

Yes, this is Rick Barry shooting an under-handed free throw, and yes, it has nothing to do with this article.

The last few days have led me to rethink this two-fold understanding of power dynamics, as friends have linked again and again to political and religious pieces filled with hateful, thoughtless and otherwise depressing comments and reactions. I realized after some thought that this certainly isn't left-handed power, but it isn't exactly right-handed power either. The power that these people have is that they are untouchable in a physical sense--or virtually so. Nobody is going to punch them in the face for spouting hate on the internet, but they aren't punching anybody in the face either. Likewise, nobody is likely to arrest them; their words don't mean anything in a strict sense, and yet they have an effect--both on those with whom they agree and those with whom they disagree. Their words are mostly cowardice, irreverent, snotty and arrogant. This is a third kind of power: what I consider to be"underhanded" power.

The perks of underhanded power are several: you can blow off steam among like-minded individuals, there are no negative repercussions for your opinions, and you can do it with a good deal of anonymity. If the internet demonstrates one thing it is that a lot of people have a lot of steam to blow off. Internet debates--which most often occur in the "comments section" of a news-site, Facebook, or blog post--are construed as determining who is right and who is wrong; whose beliefs are truer; or whose authority is stronger. However, the results of underhanded debating are not as fruitful as debate in an academic setting; in fact, rather than contributing to understanding our mutual differences internet debate most often creates further division. Lines are drawn in the sand. The emphasis isn't on advancing our understanding of what is true and good in the world. The goal of underhanded power is to be right--even if your opinion has only the smallest semblance of truth in it. Truth is a casualty of the sake of justification of the self; self-righteousness in one's own opinions is paramount.

I cannot state enough that this is a huge problem. It's a problem because it is unproductive, because it dehumanizes people, because it caricatures political and religious stances; it is a problem because it suggests that Ad hominem and Straw man fallacies are not only acceptable but the only way to effectively argue. In short, underhanded power is teaching us to create a false reality that only vaguely resembles opinions we disagree with and then rail against that ignorant distortion. Underhanded power is emotionally, philosophically and psychologically dangerous to individuals, but it is far more corrosive when it moves from an individual rant to a societal norm.

Hate is hate, I've heard said before, equating the kind of drivel posted on message boards and comments pages with the kind of stuff we might see in a genocidal regime or a KKK meeting. This is true in some sense, but it is untrue in another. Hate on its own has no power over anything; it must be utilized by right-handed means. The internet does not allow for these means, but--and this is important--it can lead to them. Underhanded power cannot steer us toward left-handed power; it's a one-way street to bashing somebody's skull in, not taking up one's cross.

So, what shall the sane among us do in such a world?

Leave it alone. I know, it's tough. I know it seems like we're copping out, like we're giving in to their words, but actually it's quite the opposite. There is a kind of left-handed power available to us on the internet, and it is the power to not respond. This is the power that we have when we disagree with someone but hold our fingers over the keys and elect not to type. It seems like weakness for all the world, and it will continue to look like it all the way until the end. But when death comes, when the internet and all its banalities are finally put to rest, then and only then will our silence show its strength.

Meanwhile, I suggest planting a tree.

The Last Town on Earth: A 2012 Reading Challenge Book (#7)

This year the goal is to read 60 books on a variety of subject matter--fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, theology, the environment, pop culture, science, etc.

To see my progress or check my other reviews click the page link above entitled, "2012 Reading Challenge"

 

 

 

2006, Random House

The Last Town on Earth by Thomas Mullen

Review

Set during World War I in a fictional town quarantining itself against a devastating flu epidemic, this is a piece of fiction willing to tackle the hardest parts of life in a godless age. In question are the ethics and politics of separation and what is appropriate to sacrifice for the greater good. The tone is dark, the answers not to be found. Mullen seems ambivalent to any greater morality or guiding principle. Characters die on a whim; love is lost as quickly as it is found. I suppose, in some ways, that this is the point, but I admit I've never liked stories like these.

Recommendation

After finishing this book, my first thought was: "For the love of God, I need to read a happy story next." Or maybe I just need something that gives me some meaning in life again. The appeal of a book like this is that it's honest; it doesn't try to craft a non-existent morality in an immoral situation. But the downside is the same. I still believe that the reason formualic, moral stories matter is because they speak to something true about the universe. This is not such a book; it doesn't pretend to be, so perhaps the issue is mine, but I can only judge from my own perspective.

Grade: D

Concord: Evolve. Don't Change

The following is an article that appears today in the February 2012 issue of Luther Seminary’s Concord theological journal. To check out the entire issue head on over to http://www2.luthersem.edu/concord/.

Evolve. Don’t Change

            “Pardon me, but that’s bulls---” said my internship supervisor, responding to a colleague’s claim that worship is the ideal space for evangelization. Actually, I misquoted him. I doubt he said “Pardon me.” The idea that worship is the time or space for intentional evangelism was, to my supervisor, blasphemy of the highest order. He believed that worship is a time to gather together in the promise that God is present in the bread and the wine and in the word proclaimed, and any intention for it otherwise is bologna. I want to suggest that this is true but insufficient. What we need is more than good theology of worship; we need to understand the evolution of worship and to put to death the language of “change.” Allow me to explain.

            The church has always had tension between welcoming those on the margins and maintaining established practices. This is the fundamental challenge in multi-ethnic, multi-class, multi-generational ministry settings (which, to my mind, covers every setting there is): those things that have deep meaning to one group of people have no meaning to another. How then shall we worship together?

            It’s easy to say that the older generation needs to change—that they need to be willing to give way to a younger group of people with fresh ideas of how to do worship, that the old music needs to go and finally that they need to relax their grip on all those things we have come to consider traditional. Yet, this solution only encourages division, spawning worthless nomenclature such as traditional and contemporary.

            In a place like the Twin Cities it’s well and good to have different churches offering different forms of worship. Mercy Seat can coexist quite nicely alongside Mt. Olivet. Yet, much of the church lives in places where different worship equates to division in the community that is unwanted and often painful. In small-town America there are already far too many things that pull people apart from one another. Worship should not be another of these. Thankfully, in some ways we have no choice. Attendance numbers and pastoral sanity often require a single service, a single time to come together to worship God, to break the bread and drink the wine and to re-member (that is, become members again) the body of Christ.

            The pertinent questions regarding worship in Hallock, Minnesota are the same questions everywhere in small communities: How do we faithfully gather together when so many of us have so many different spiritual needs? How do we allow space for the Holy Spirit to work in a broad way without watering down the message? These are our struggles, and adequate answers are usually lacking. I’ve visited enough churches in my twenty-five years to know that most are doing a poor job of generating answers.

            So maybe that’s the point; maybe there are no good answers. Maybe the congregations that are alive and vibrant haven’t so much figured out the magical formula to do the most effective worship, but have learned to live the questions. Every Sunday is an opportunity to look around and ask one another, “I’m here because worship means something to me. Does it mean the same thing to you?”

            If we ask the question, then we have to admit the possibility that someone could say, “No,” in which case we should resist the urge to fix them. We are not the Borg, assimilating the ones who do not give in to the purported superiority of our liturgical model. Instead, we are the body of Christ in desperate need of members at the margins. Members with different spiritual needs require us to step back and ask ourselves, “Are we doing this for the glory of God, for our own fulfillment, or because we see our church like a sports team and affiliation matters more than salvation?”

            I think the latter is the underlying philosophy of many—perhaps most—worship practices. If you’re a sports fan, you have undoubtedly heard fans deriding other fans of the same team for “jumping on the bandwagon” or, in other words, cheering only when their team is winning. Likewise, we have people in the church who have acquired a sense of ownership after having devoted themselves even when it seemed like a lost cause. Now, they are quick to turn on the bandwagon followers—i.e. the folks who haven’t been so sure about church—and they have denied them a voice. Yet, for a healthy congregation (or, for that matter, a healthy fan base) we need the participation of both. We need the margins as much as we need the center, and the center has to be willing to move; not flip inside-out, mind you, but it cannot be set in one place. Culture and practice evolve through time. The center has to shift with the times or else the margins will disappear.

            This is where the rubber meets the road for worship, whether in Hallock, Minnesota or on the campus of Luther Seminary. Those with a controlling stake have to be willing to evolve. We throw around the word “change” too much and it evokes all kinds of negative emotions, and this is in part because it is the wrong word. Change suggests something that we do. What we need is evolution, a process beyond our control marshaled over by God and not by us. Evolution teaches us two things: 1. we are not in control, and 2. new life requires death. Things will slowly die out of favor—evolution does not happen overnight—but the best way to honor how we have worshiped in the past is not to try to live it over again. Instead, the best way to honor the past is to understand that the present relies on the past like a pyramid whose capstone cannot stand without those that have been laid before. Worship is like this, and when it is at its best it remembers its past without attempting to revive it.