The Guinea Pig Diaries: My Life as an Experiment

“Nicholas Carr writes in The Atlantic in an article called “Is Google Making Us Stupid?” (hint: yes), “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words.  Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet-Ski.””

-A. J. Jacobs – “The Unitasker” (The Guinea Pig Diaries:My Life as an Experiment)*

It’s been a while, I know.  Since I last posted my family and I have embarked on our first Active Army PCS move.  I’ll not go into details, but let’s just say that I’ve been a bit busy with the move, settling in with a new unit, helping wrangle/take care of my son, spending some quality time with my family, and reading when I can.

So without further ado, here goes:

I believe that the lack of depth in serious critical thinking in our society has theological ramifications.  As Christians, many of us skip along the sea of inch-deep theology and simple self-help answers, rather than embracing any sort of willingness to break the surface and struggle with diving deep.  A vast number of Christians prefer to hear, for example, that the Bible means one thing, and one thing only.  Questioning such ideas is declared anathema by numerous churches, or at minimum, one’s faith in God is questioned.  Millions of Christians seek “yes” or “no” answers to questions that are impossible to truthfully answer with a “yes” or “no”.  We seem to want to skim the surface of theology, of our relationship with and understanding of God rather than diving deep into the murky depths of the life of faith in a triune God.

I get it.  Life is not easy.  We live in a complex world filled with natural and moral evils, as well as all the other general complexities that goes with, well, life.  With that said, however, my family and I were driving around some of the little towns that surround my new duty station.  As we were exploring the local area, taking in all of the sites that make up rural Louisiana, we came across a church sign that basically stated that in a world filled with problems and difficulties the church (or maybe just that particular congregation) offers simple answers, that Jesus makes things easier.  I couldn’t help but scoff.  Actually, I’m still scoffing.

Hope and simplicity are in no way the same thing; they’re not even remotely synonymous.  Yes, Jesus Christ offers us hope in the now and the not yet (hopefully) through the church and the coming Kingdom.  But Jesus does not make things simple or easy.  I’d argue that if we were to take Christianity seriously, that if we were to take our faith in God Incarnate seriously, then Jesus makes things, makes our lives, far more complicated and complex.

And this is a good thing.  We should not fear complexity.  We should fear simple answers to complex questions and problems.  As the church, the community of faith, we should be willing to struggle with the complexity of life together, just as millions of faithful Christians have done since the earliest days of the early church.  We should search the Scriptures together, just as John Wesley directed.  We should offer confession and forgiveness to one another.  We should hold each other accountable, but we should never say that the Christian life is simple or easy.  Maybe it has become easy, but its roots, its essence, shows us a beauty and depth far too vibrant and real to ever think a simple “yes” or “no” faith would (or should) suffice.  We must be willing to trash the Jet-Skis and don some scuba gear.

*Jacobs, A. J. The Guinea Pig Diaries: My Life as an Experiment.  New York: Simon & Schuster, 2009.

Red Letter Revolution (Part 1)

“God, in giving humanity freedom, lends credence to a free enterprise system in which the primary purpose of production is to bless people by producing goods and services that meet their needs.  This is what loving our neighbors as ourselves is all about (Matthew 22:37-40).  In doing so, those around us “may see our good works, and glorify our Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16 author’s paraphrase).”

-Tony Campolo (Red Letter Revolution: What if Jesus Really Meant What He Said?)*

I’ll be honest, I’m no economist but this statement hurts my brain.  The theological gymnastics that Campolo has attempted to pull off in linking free enterprise to God’s gift of free will and then linking that to the greatest of the commandments (Matthew 22:37-40) is nigh impossible.  But he tries it anyway.

Admittedly, this was sort of an odd chapter in Red Letter Revolution for me.  The chapter was titled “Dialogue on Economics.”  I’m not sure what I was expecting from the authors, but I figured there’d at least be some sort of admonition against our current economic environment in the United States, especially as it relates to the drastically widening gap between the rich and the poor.  Granted, there was some talk of taking care of those in need and how God is bigger than Wall Street, etc., but for me, Campolo threw anything valuable to the wind with the quote above.

I DO NOT think Jesus affirms the selling of goods and services to people whom, at times, cannot afford those goods and services.  This concept certainly does not hold true to the commandment (and Torah law) of loving your neighbor as yourself.  This is a clear example of eisegesis, of reading one’s own beliefs, thoughts, and context back into Scripture in such a way as to mold the text to mean what one wants it to mean rather than what it actually says in its own time and place in history.  Historically, we Christians are very good at this practice.  Take, for instance, the “biblical” justification for slavery in the South during the 1700-1800s, or the German church’s affirmation of Hitler’s Third Reich and Nazi ideology.  I’m sorry, but it takes some very literalistic readings of Scripture and some very clever textual eisegeting to make those concepts gel.

Perhaps what Campolo is suggesting is that in a utopian society where everyone is relatively equal, goods and services are produced and offered in order to meet the needs of the people, thus serving the greater good.  In this case, yes, this sort of producing and offering of free enterprise goods and services would be a form of loving one’s neighbor as oneself.  But this is not reality.  Sure, it can be a goal, but this isn’t even remotely the world we live in.

The language that Campolo actually uses is that of free enterprise, not utopia and not the language of a community bound together by God.  In the current US economic climate “free enterprise” tends to translate as a sort of free market capitalism.  If this is not what Campolo intended, then he should have been clearer.  However, if Campolo’s statement is taken at face value, there is overwhelming evidence in the New Testament that flies in the face of “free enterprise” as it is manifest in our society. 

The community bound together by Christ at the end of Acts 2 is a wonderful example of how we are all still unique individuals with varying abilities, interests, skills, etc. while being joined as one for the common good.  The author of Acts states, “All the believers were united and shared everything” (Acts 2:44, CEB).  Folks in community even sold the land and excess goods they had for the benefit of others in need.  No one went without.  Everyone had enough.  This was not the result of free enterprise.  This was not the logical outcome of selling goods and services.  This was the illogical outcome of Pentecost; the breathtaking power of the Holy Spirit to work within a people in such a way as to show them something greater than themselves and their own well-being and luxury.  This is inherently a counter-cultural and counter-capitalist concept.  

My point is this: we should avoid at all cost the linking of a capitalistic production of goods and services in the modern age with the words of Jesus, particularly the greatest commandment.  After all, didn’t Jesus also advocate for his disciples and followers to offer both their shirt and their coat if someone in need simply asks for a shirt?  He didn’t say, “Feed those who have the money to be fed; give drink to those who can afford what you have produced.”  Jesus didn’t go to the wealthy business owners and kindly ask them to produce better goods or lower their prices.  What he did do was tell some successful fisherman and a tax collector, “Come, follow me.”  He told a rich young man to sell all of his belongings, give the money to the poor, and become a disciple.  He warned against greed, and the dangers of attachment to money and possessions.

Jesus’ words are utterly radical and discomforting.  Our economic systems and concepts, however hard we try, will never fit Jesus’ understanding of community.  And to be sure, we should try, but we must always confessionally acknowledge that we fall short, that we do things we shouldn’t and we leave other things undone.  God, forgive us.

In the end, may we hope and pray to actually do what Christ declares, but may we never do as Campolo suggests: essentially, linking capitalism with the greatest commandment.

*Claiborne, Shane and Tony Campolo.  Red Letter Revolution: What If Jesus Really Meant What He Said?  Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2012.

A Prayer for Returning Soldiers

As a departure from what I've been blogging about, and an embrace of my actual blog title, I'd like to offer the world a prayer for returning Soldiers.  Don't worry, I've not stopped reading, but ministry opportunities can pop up when you least expect them.  Case in point: my unit is finally coming home from a year long deployment and I've been asked to offer the Invocation for the return ceremony.  Interestingly, if you google "prayer for returning soldiers" you don't get very many hits that are useful in a liturgical or ceremonial setting.

So without further adieu, I would like to share my Prayer for Returning Soldiers:

Gracious God,

who promised to never leave your people’s side,

we give you thanks that the Soldiers of the 980^th

            have made it home safely.

Bless our Soldiers’ reunions with their families and friends;

            help them reconnect and experience joy at being back together,

                        and happiness in simply being home.

We pray that the transition back to civilian life,

            the shift from combat environments to the peaceful environments of home

                        will be smooth.

Most importantly, we pray for your grace in this transition;

            grace that transcends mental, emotional, and physical wounds;

            grace that heals and makes one whole.

We pray for our spouses and families to be patient and understanding.

            Help us all with the enormous emotional adjustment of changing worlds

            and smooth the transition back into family life after having missed

                        a whole chapter of the story.

And in the days ahead, as we move from lessons learned in war to managing

            the reintegration of our Soldiers;

            we ask that you, O God,

                        be with us, guide us, refresh us,

                        equip us to be ready, well, and spiritually whole.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

If you find it useful, by all means use it.  I could care less about copyright and the like.  My only request is that if you use it, make it your own.  Pray it and truly mean it.  

Grace and peace,

UM Chaplain

A Life Together: Wisdom from the Christian East

“Christianity is a world to explore, not an heirloom to preserve; it is something we enter into and discover therein expansion and newness.”

-Bishop Seraphim Sigrist (A Life Together: Wisdom of Community from the Christian East)*

We have turned the Church (and church with a little “c”) into a museum and trapped Christianity within.  And I’m not talking about one of those cool museums where you learn about space or natural history (Dinosaurs! Yeah!) or anything like that.  No, I’m thinking of something more along the lines of one of those roadside museums with the random assortment of two-headed farm animals, a cool rock somebody found that may or may not be a meteorite, and everything in the museum seems to have been generously donated by folks in the area.

Slap a few placards on random crap around the church and we have our very own roadside museum: the pews, the stained glass windows, everything in the chancel area (i.e. lectern, pulpit, cross, prayer railing, altar table, etc.), the Bibles and hymnals, the token pictures of Jesus, some old offering plates I found hidden away (awkward!), and even the ice maker in the kitchen (even more awkward!).  Don’t get me wrong, that ice machine is great, but a memorial ice machine?  Seriously?

Sadly, this is not an unusual occurrence in a majority of churches.  The church is more a building and all the stuff contained within than it is a people when we so ardently attach ourselves to the material world.  We seek preservation of what once was, rather than the unbound potential of what is and what may be.  We preserve it, memorialize it, thinking back to the good ole days, and we fend off anything that remotely threatens the curation of our museum.

This is precisely why Bishop Sigrist’s words are so important…and dangerous.  Christianity is a world to explore.  Combined with Wesley’s concept of the Path to Christian Perfection, we begin to understand that Christianity is, indeed, bound within history, but it is an active and living salvation history.  It is a history filled with the beautifully unpredictable movement of the Holy Spirit, with a Creator that loves us enough to allow us free will but surrounds us with a creation so breathtaking that it is difficult not to see God, and with Jesus Christ, who stopped at nothing to be in relationship with us and to reconcile us with God.

To be sure, this is not a stale and static story.  This is not a history meant to be locked up behind the fortifications of the museum church.  But this is precisely what we do.  We equate “the Church” with that worship location we attend on Sundays and call it church.

The Church is a people called Christian that are exploring, living, loving, and communing together in the name of Christ.  And I guarantee you that you can’t slap a memorial placard on that.

*Sigrist, Bishop Seraphim.  A Life Together: Wisdom of Community from the Christian East.  Brewster: Paraclete Press, 2011.

Bringing Courage to the Courageous

“What I do know is that God is sovereign, and He is good.  And all these things that we go through in this fallen world are meant to bring us to Him.”

-CH (CPT) Don Williamson (Bringing Courage to the Courageous)*

First of all, let me just say that I am thoroughly enjoying CH Williamson’s book.  I say that not out of a sense of pandering to a fellow chaplain; rather, the general intent and focus of Bringing Courage to the Courageous is a very honest and concrete understanding of a pastoral ministry of presence.

I am, however, the kind of person who, every so often, enjoys reading books and articles written by people that I do not necessarily agree with concerning matters of theology.  This is one of those cases, and the above stated quote is the veritable straw that broke the theological camel’s back.

Briefly, the context of CH Williamson’s statement is that he is counseling a Soldier at a remote FOB (Forward Operating Base) in Afghanistan (i.e. not a cushy pastor’s office).  The Soldier has gone through and seen a lot over the course of multiple deployments.  This is not an easy pastoral counseling session by any stretch of the imagination.

I also understand that one’s ministry context must be taken into consideration.  I am reflecting on this quote while sitting at my nice desk and comfy office chair, and I have the time and opportunity to ponder over the words being spoken.  That said, CH Williamson and I come from very different theological backgrounds.  Actually, I find his statement to be, at best, theologically irresponsible.  At worst?  Theologically dangerous.

I haven’t a problem accepting the claims that God is both sovereign and good.  It is a highly problematic theological proposition that everything we go through in our lives is meant to bring us closer to God.  Such a claim seems to state that God divinely predestines and predetermines all of existence, to include all of the good and bad aspects and experiences of our lives.

My first question in response to CH Williamson’s claim is whether or not God’s sovereignty and goodness is at stake if we deny the notion that God predestines and predetermines everything.  Theologically, as a Methodist, I would argue that God’s sovereignty and goodness (and most especially God’s love) is in no way whatsoever threatened by denying the above stated “pre” claims assigned to God by humans.  To uphold these claims is a threat to God’s loving gift of free will that is manifest in the freedom we have to choose God or to not choose God.  If everything is predestined and predetermined, what would be the point of allowing us to make such a choice?  On the other hand, to deny this ability to choose (or not choose) God would seemingly defeat the whole point and purpose of the spiritual life.  Thus, Christianity itself would be rather pointless.

My second question for CH Williamson is pastoral in nature.  If we accept the claim that everything is mean to bring us to God, what does that mean for all those Soldiers who have been wounded or who have died in the line of duty?  And really, this question could be asked from anyone’s perspective, regardless of their military or non-military status, faith background, or the multitude of other ways we self-identify.  I am asking the question from the perspective of a fellow chaplain.  What does it mean for our Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen who have been to hell and back?  Did they endure (or even die from) those experiences of war so that they could come to God?  Yes, God works in mysterious ways that we will never fully understand, but a God who orchestrates pain and suffering into the thread of life for the sole purpose of bringing people closer to the divine certainly is sovereign but is in no way good or loving.  This God is nothing short of a despot.

At this point I could recommend a dozen or so books and authors worth reading concerning the topic of God and human suffering.  I could write my own book, but I’m not.  I simply wish to point out that, as Christians, we are all theologians whether we want to be or not.  What we say to others can have as dramatic an affect on their lives as how we act.  I am greatly appreciative of the work CH Williamson does in the name of Jesus Christ.  However, I believe we all must be willing to seriously reflect and wrestle with the various theologies and claims of the God we affirm. 

I truly think this is one of the many things God wants of us, to think through and wrestle with living out our paths to Christian perfection.

Peace and blessings on the journey my friends!

*Williamson, Don.  Bringing Courage to the Courageous: One Chaplain’s Journey Across the Battlefields of Afghanistan.  Xulon Press, 2010.

Reading the Bible for All the Wrong Reasons

"My point was not so much that her reading of the Bible was wrong but that it is nonsensical to talk about understanding any sort of communication without interpreting it."

-Russell Pregeant (Reading the Bible for All the Wrong Reasons)*


How true this statement really is!  All communication has to be interpreted.  Even text messages, Facebook messages and status updates, etc.  And the way that we interpret and/or perceive a given communication is not necessarily how it was intended to be understood, and yet that perception shapes our reality.  What then does that mean for misinterpreted and misunderstood communication?  In particular, the way the biblical text shapes the generally perceived Christian reality is intriguing as the idea of interpretation (or misinterpretation) enters the conversation.

We all have lenses by which we read Scripture; we all bring our biases and our baggage, our perceptions of reality and, essentially, we come to the biblical text with ideas of what we think it says and means, and what we really want it to say and mean.  We inevitably eisegete the text, reading our selves (ideologies, philosophies, theologies, experiences, etc.) into holy writ.  While it is almost impossible to approach the text in a robotic fashion, checking all of our baggage at the door, we must be willing to recognize that we, in fact, bring all of our selves into any encounter with a given communication (i.e. the Bible).

In short, we are all interpreters.  The Bible, or any other form of communication, cannot simply be read and followed at face value.  As Pregeant states above, to attempt to do so is nonsensical.



*Pregeant, Russell.  Reading the Bible for All the Wrong Reasons.  Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011. 

Welcome

Good grief.  I never thought I'd actually be doing this, that is, I never thought I'd be starting a blog.  I told myself I wouldn't, but here we are.  And honestly, I feel pretty good about this venture into public writing.  I guess we'll see how it goes.

A note, however, concerning the content of this blog.  I read...a lot.  The primary format and intent of this blog is for me to share a quote by an author I am currently reading that seems particularly poignant...or problematic.  I will then proceed to briefly reflect on the given quote.  The word "brief" is pretty key here.  I'm not writing my own version of Barth's Church Dogmatics.  Just relatively succinct reactions.  If someone wants to respond or comment on the quote or my response, go for it.  I always welcome good dialogue.

I guess that's about it.  So welcome!