The importance of place

One thing I haven’t posted much on is “place”. A theology of place. A psychology of spaces. The personal significance of geography. It’s something a few others have thought about a lot and is one of those things that I has always been important to me, even though I never realized it.

It’s come up in three different pieces I’ve come across lately and struck me as very profound. I don’t have much to say about it now, so I’m just collecting snippets. Who knows, maybe it will take years to digest, like a lot of things.

Here, in C.S. Lewis’s autobiography, he talks about distance and how the automobile and quick travel has destroyed our sense of place. What good is a long pilgrimage now?

I number it among my blessings that my father had no car, while yet most of my friends had, and sometimes took me for a ride. This meant that all these distant objects could be visited just enough to clothe them with memories and not impossible desires, while yet they remained ordinarily as inaccessible as the Moon. The deadly power of rushing about wherever I pleased had not been given me. I measured distances by the standard of man, man walking on his two feet, not by the standard of the internal combustion engine. I had not been allowed to deflower the very idea of distance; in return I possessed “infinite riches” in what would have been to motorists “a little room.” The truest and most horrible claim made for modern transport is that it “annihilates space.” It does. It annihilates one of the most glorious gifts we have been given. It is a vile inflation which lowers the value of distance, so that a modern boy travels a hundred miles with less sense of liberation and pilgrimage and adventure than his grandfather got from traveling ten.

-C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Hope, p.157

I want to take a walking pilgrimage if, for no other reason, just to regain a sense of this. I am certain this is why some people enjoy hiking.

This sort of travel power also created the modern American suburbs, broke apart church and family relationships from their geographical chains. Not all chains are evil. Perhaps we function best as human beings within their restrictions.

I’ve mentioned before that GPS and global mapping is the last nail in the coffin on this. There is no longer an unexplored jungle or mountain. You can pick out individual bushes and shrubs on the side of mount Olympus from the safety of your laptop and Google Earth.

If some people are so adamantly against the idea of a virtual/internet church, I suspect it’s more because of the breakdown of a sense of place than because communication is really so stifled by it. Its proponents have proven that communication is often enhanced. They (the opponents) often don’t appeal to the sense of place though. It sounds silly, like religiosity. But Lewis, Tolkien, and the other Inklings weren’t afraid to appeal to it. They realized how powerful it was.

For the record, I’m against virtual/internet church for most of the typical reasons given, though I’m certainly FOR some aspects of it. Am I not blogging right now? I think I’ll move “sense of place” out of the shadows now though and near the top of the list.

Shifting gears, Travis Prinzi mentioned this piece by Caleb Stegal. It’s full of insight.

It is more and more difficult for us to imagine making Odysseus’s choice to forsake eternity for home. Liberalism’s ideas have consequences—from widespread divorce to mass marketing to spaghetti interchanges—but those consequences also shape ideas, reinforcing the frame of mind that gave birth to them. They break our ties to imagination, to craft, to the land, and to the shop, so that our cities and pastures alike are blighted. Because we have repeatedly bowed at the altar of convenience, we are isolated from the very things that would feed and nourish our imagination. It should be no wonder that civil society has largely lost its ability to mediate between the individual and society at large. It should be no wonder that people live with a vague sense of lostness. We have become a people without a place.

Individualism. Consumerism Separation from family, friends, and neighbors. Our technology (cheap cars, planes, telecommute, quick financing for real estate sales, well-stocked supermarkets, etc.) increasingly facilitates this. We are so mobile. We change jobs, schools, careers, cars, real estate, and even spouses at a fast pace. Does the call of God look like the fast lane? I’ll bet it’s more likely to look like settling down:

If modernity is an exercise in un-sticking ourselves from family, job, and home, the discipline of place is an exercise in re-sticking.

The good life, and the good society, begins only when we unhitch our hearts from radical individualism. Civil society will only be worthy of the name when people begin to make Odysseus’s choice: to step out of the void, gather together the permanent things scattered and strewn throughout their lives, and begin the hard work of cherishing.

-Caleb Stegal, Practicing the Discipline of Place

Also, God does not just speak to us as solitary individuals, alone on an empty Cartesian plane. Look at how often his words to us are to us in the context of where we are. It’s almost too simple to notice.

The sorrow of Job had to be joined with the sorrow of Hector; and while the former was the sorrow of the universe the later was the sorrow of the city; for Hector could only stand pointing to heaven as the pillar of holy Troy. When God speaks out of the whirlwind He may well speak in the wilderness.

-G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man, p.109

Here, Prinzi draws from other pieces of Chesterton to relate to the wonder of place and the wonder of theology. It’s hard to pull excerpts from.

Fighting weeds while trying to restore a backyard that’s suffered 15 years of neglect puts me in a place and makes me have to do one of two things: get bitter that I don’t have more time for sitting in front of a computer debating theology with people dumber than me, or find the wonder in creation, consider the tragedy of the fall, and find even greater wonder in redemption.

Most people are bored with the monotony of one place, and we’ve become very transient people. I think that boredom is a weakness which plagues us, and I’m fighting hard against it.

It is much more often foolishness, not wisdom, that makes people want to move away from family and community for ideas of finding a “better life.”  We’re bored with the monotony.  We’re thinking we’re better than this place.

Yes? Eh, I think so.

Rejoice, you have been cleansed

For some of us, this exhortation from Leithart is like the wiping a thick layer of grime off the windows to find a sun blazing behind them again.

In it’s entirety:

“With what disgust, contempt, and hatred Christ must look upon every second of our lives, the reviewing of which must be a long torture for us, were such a judgment in our future!”

These are the words of a Presbyterian minister, writing in a prominent evangelical magazine. He’s trying to refute the belief that we’ll be judged according to works at the last day. He’s wrong on that point. Paul says clearly and repeatedly that everyone will be judged according to his works. But that’s not my main interest this morning. My interest is the attitude this writer attributes to Jesus.

Do you think Jesus is filled with “disgust, contempt, and hatred . . . every second of our lives”? Many Christians do, and there are others who want to reinforce that view. Job’s friends did. They posed as “comforters” but they were really little “satans,” accusers more interested in convicting than comforting.

Job’s response is not meekly to turn over and take it. His response is not, “Well, you’ve got a point there. I admit I’m totally depraved.” His response is to deny their accusations and defend himself. That should be our response too. But how? We know how sinful we are, how often we fail and fall. How can we defend ourselves with the same confidence as Job?

The answer will come in a few moments, as it comes every week in the liturgy. As we enter the Lord’s presence, we first need to be cleansed by confessing our sins. When we’ve confessed, the Father tells us how he regards us, and He doesn’t express disgust, contempt, or hatred. What He expresses is free and absolute forgiveness, love, favor, brotherly kindness, mercy. Because you are in the Son, “He forgives you all your sins.”

When the accusations come, don’t grovel and don’t let yourself be manipulated. Instead: Remember the words of absolution and realize that even more than Job you have grounds to protest your innocence. Remember the declaration of forgiveness, and believe that in Christ your sins are completely, utterly gone. Remember that you have been cleansed, silence the satans, and know that Jesus Christ by His Spirit is the true Comforter.

The next time some sophisticated theological accuser, some Confessional satan, wants to convict you of sin, you’ve got a choice: Believe the accuser, or believe God.

More notes on evangelism proper

In further exploring what I’ve talked about yesterday, I’ve been reading the rest of David Fitch’s posts on the subject. I want to condense some of the more pertinent ideas down here.

I believe a host of problems in American evangelicalism originate in our disregard for community. Indeed, our hyped up attraction approach to church has put the individual first in such a way that community becomes an afterthought which creates problems for discipleship, catechesis of our children, as well as evangelism. We seek to draw the individual in, sell him/her a message, and then provide communities. Community by definition becomes commodified. Instead of an individual being grafted into the Body of Christ as the very foundation of his/her salvation, this individual becomes a consumer of what kind of community best suits the kind of Christianity he or she can fit into her life. The ramifications for discipleship are disastrous.

I would agree with this. Our “evangelism proper” is highly individualized. What’s important in being a Christian looks something like this:

Confess Jesus Christ as your personal savior




sinning less…











Community

I think the word he used, “afterthought” is a good way to describe it.

Roman’s Road is solid stuff. It’s not scholarly, but it’s still almost completely rational. The rhetoric masters take something akin to this approach: Convince someone that God exists and repentance and discipleship will follow naturally as they are enlightened of the error and ignorance of their ways. But really changed lives are always way more complicated than that, and the thing that complicates them (good and bad) is tied up in community.

Michael Spencer comments:

Apologetics deals with reasons, evidence, objections, etc. But I have almost never seen apologetics alone have any sort of evangelistic impact. Our problem, at root, is not intellectual or evidential, but moral.

OK. Pop quiz. Moral change is facilitated/nurtured most by:

A) The Holy Spirit
B) Reading your Bible more
C) Attending worship services
D) Moral company (Godly parents, friends, peers, and leaders)

Well (A) is a given. The Holy Spirit produces real change. (Perhaps ALL change depending on your theology.)

What about (B)? “I have hidden your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you” – Psalm 119:11. OK. You can’t discount that one.

(C)? Singing worship songs. Listening to a preacher. Real moral change? Really? Perhaps. Maybe when it’s like (B). Or maybe when it’s like (D). How often is it really like either of these? (millage may vary)

And finally (D). “Do not be deceived: Bad company corrupts good morals” – 1 Corinthians 15:33. And the opposite? Living in a community of Godly men and women nurtures real change.

Fitch really lays it down in this post about how real community is NEVER easy to break in to. Sorry.

…any community of any significant depth will present barriers to entry for the new person. The community will already know each other deeply, the visitor will not. The community will have shared a journey, struggles, pains, sorrows and joys. We will already understand deeply our purpose, our Mission as worked out for our context because we have spent months, maybe years, praying and listening to God.

We should always be hospitable in inviting others into this great life we have been called to share. But frankly, it cannot be communicated or extended through the exchange of simple pleasantries after church gathering on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, there will always be these communal hurdles to becoming part of such a community of Mission.

It takes long-term commitment. I think that the Walmart-like greeters who wear a smile and have a system to greet you going into the large church are a sign of the loss of this community. It is false, a simulacrum, and it eventually breeds cynicism.

So what do you do? If attractional evangelism is by it’s very nature shallow and low milage, but deep community is naturally a walled garden, how do we bring in new believers? How do we find this community if we move into a new community (geographically or otherwise)? Is the burden put on us to work hard to find it and break into it or even create it from scratch? Where is the Holy Spirit in all of this.

The answers you give to these questions have huge implications in church sociology, missions, and even family relations. A large portion of what I’m trying hardest to grasp and wrestle with falls under these headings.

Common ground and strange fellows

While waiting in line at our local coffee shop, I perused some of the books on display in large shelf against the wall.

I came across Bound Only Once, a collection of essays criticizing Open Theism, edited by our local and prolific Reformed folk.

Open Theism could be described several ways. Arminianism on steroids is one of those. It is the belief that God doesn’t actually know the future. He knows all POSSIBLE futures and does shape things, but the end of the story is rather vague.

In the collection of essays, they again go out of their way to say they are NOT attacking Arminianism, but only this particularly heretical flavour of it that has surfaced a lot more often lately. They say that Open Theism IS more logical than classic Arminianism, but in the opposite direction of Calvinism. So it is more intellectually honest, but also more wrong and therefore, dangerous.

I remember that critics of Wild at Heart had their biggest beef with some of the Open Theism that shows up in John Eldridge’s controversial book. For the record, my feelings on it are rather mixed. It has a lot of problems, but also a few brilliant passages.

Anyway, throughout Bound Only Once, Open Theism is given a human face in Greg Boyd, a notable pastor, scholar and proponent of the theology.

So just today at the BHT, is this quote from Boyd:

When followers of Jesus aren’t careful to clearly distinguish the Kingdom from their own nation, we easily end up Christianizing aspects of our national culture we ought to be revolting against.

Good stuff. Where have I heard this before? From Wilson, Leithart, and the other contributors to the book in question of course! They actually don’t spend much near as much time writing and preaching against things like Open Theism as they do writing and preaching against the subversion of Chritianity by the culture (especially American culture). If someone had given me the quote above and asked me who said it, I probably would have said Wilson.

Funny what people can still have in common. Are there heretics on your team?

Unfunded goals

Programmer/writer Chad Fowler has some killer commentary on consumerism. Can you see yourself in any of this? Wow.

Experiment: next time a really important goal comes along, I’m not allowed to do any discretionary spending related to that goal.

My hypothesis is that unfunded life goals stand a better chance of being met.

Read the whole thing (it’s short).

Music is not worship

Today, Michael Spencer called out EXACTLY what I’ve been thinking (and writing about) for a couple years.

Does anyone- I mean, really, seriously- have any idea what is actually happening within the worship culture of evangelicals?

Worship has now become a musical term. Praise and worship means music. Let’s worship means the band will play. We need to give more time to worship doesn’t mean silent prayer or public scripture reading or any kind of participatory liturgy. It means music.

My early (and very amateur) study of the Greek and Hebrew showed that of the 100+ times that worship appears in the Bible, it nearly always means “bowing down” and virtually never music by any stretch.

Don’t get me wrong, I love music. But music is not worship. And music you are only listening to (not participating in) is even less so. That listening to tunes is often the centerpiece of our corporate gatherings has contributed greatly to the self-destruction of the evangelical church.

Taking a break

I’m going to take a break from blogging for a while to refocus on some priorities.

Expect infrequent posts for at least several weeks.

Thanks to the handful of you that follow some of the things I cram in this scrapbook.

A new way to classify mankind

There are two kinds of people in this world…

You can follow that statement by a lot of phrases. We love to classify things.

Here in the conclusion of his anthropological Christian apologetic, Chesterton doesn’t divide the earth into Christians and non-Christians directly, but in light of the preceding discussion, from a curious angle:

The religion of the world, in its right proportions, is not divided into fine shades of mysticism or more or less rational forms of mythology. It is divided by the line between the men who are bringing that message [the gospe of Jesus] and the men who have not yet heard it, or cannot yet believe it.

And later on:

Mohammed did not, like the Magi, find a new star; he saw through his own particular window a glimpse of the great grey field of the ancient starlight. So when we say that the country contains so many Confucians or Buddhists, we mean it contains so many pagans whose prophets have given them another and rather vaguer version of the invisible power; making it not only invisible but almost impersonal.

When we say that they also have temples and idols and priests and periodical festivals, we simply mean that this sort of heathen is enough of a human being to admit the popular element of pomp and pictures and feasts and fairy-tales. We only mean that Pagans have more sense than Puritans. But what the gods are supposed to be, what the priests are commissioned to say, is not a sensational secret like what those running messengers of the Gospel had to say. Nobody else except those messengers has any Gospel; nobody else has any good news; for the simple reason that nobody else has any news.

-G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man, p.309 (Conclusion)

Well that’s it for The Everlasting Man. The copy I retrieved from the library now smells like campfire smoke from my family’s trip to the woods this past weekend. I hope they don’t mind too much.

Photo credit

Calvinist vinegar

The local Calvinists in our town are generally very fond of Chesterton. This is a good thing! They aren’t as boring as R.C. Sproul and can typically take a joke a lot better than John MacArthur (as if that were very difficult). I’m not sure if they WERE this way, so they naturally liked what they found in Chesterton, or they BECAME a bit this way from reading him. A bit of both I’m sure. Maybe they got that way from reading too much Wodehouse or listening to too much blues. Who knows.

Chesterton himself though often takes pot shots at the TULIP folk. Yes, he always includes them in the body of Christ and as necessary for the balance of Orthodoxy to exist, but words like “vinegar” often crop up. It seems likely to me he had met several of the intolerable Scottish variety.

And we only say once more to-day as has been said many times by our fathers: `Long years and centuries ago our fathers or the founders of our people drank, as they dreamed, of the blood of God. Long years and centuries have passed since the strength of that giant vintage has been anything but a legend of the age of giants. Centuries ago already is the dark time of the second fermentation, when the wine of Catholicism turned into the vinegar of Calvinism. Long since that bitter drink has been itself diluted; rinsed out and washed away by the waters of oblivion and the wave of the world. Never did we think to taste again even that bitter tang of sincerity and the spirit, still less the richer and the sweeter strength of the purple vineyards in our dreams of the age of gold. Day by day and year by year we have lowered our hopes and lessened our convictions; we have grown more and more used to seeing those vats and vineyards overwhelmed in the waterfloods and the last savour and suggestion of that special element fading like a stain of purple upon a sea of grey. We have grown used to dilution, to dissolution, to a watering down that went on for ever. But ‘Thou hast kept the good wine until now.’

-G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man, p.299

Keeping the good wine until now. Christianity has been diluted or made bitter. I was surprised to find this language here. This exact sentiment was often expressed during the rise of Pentacostalism in the past 100 years. Perhaps this language is appropriate to every age where the Lord renews and reforms the church.