a ridiculous attempt

In a time of reflection today, I was struck by the sheer vastness of the term "God's glory" and my inability to wrap my mind around it. It's something that can't really be described or boiled down, yet it is inescapable in life. All of our experiences contain quiet echoes and faint allusions to it. During this thought process, I came across a question: how would you describe God's glory to someone with no experience with Christianity or the Bible? That's a great question. So here was the feeble attempt that somehow came out of me this morning:


What is glory? It is the vastness of an ocean spread to infinity before your eyes. It is the peace of bright green hills rolling and unfolding into a deep blue sky. It is the slow, terrifying movement of the Mississippi, unwinding endlessly in its journey, dividing the land and veiling the merciless tumult beneath.

Glory is the resolved and purposeful march of the ant as it relies on wisdom more unswerving and trustworthy than any we have known. It is the majestic strength and resilient poise of the lion, the cunning speed of the cheetah. It is the stable loyalty of the canine who disarms you with with his profound love. It is the splendor of a good an victorious king bearing news of peace and holding forth hope when it had seemed all but lost. It is the immovable safety of that king's castle and the tested might of the city walls.

Yes, and more. Glory is the assurance of a well-timed and wise word as it breathes meaning back into your soul. It is the illuminating phrase of the poet, the resonant laughter of the comic, the quiet resolution of the tragedy. It is the lift of a soaring melody over a steady march, the lilting sway of a slow waltz, the trumpet call of an anthem and a perfect cadence out of chaos.

Yet further, though words are increasing in their inadequacy. It is the fierce pursuit of a friend who pulls you out of the mire time and again. It is the untapped reservoir of his persistence to see you through, the heart-felt relief at his mouth closed, ears and arms open wide. It is the anticipation of shared joy and pain, of understanding and being understood.

I hesitate to press on. But it is still more. It is the enfolding warmth of a lover's embrace. Here my words are faltering... The joyful abundance of her smile, the epic and fearsome story in her eyes, the thrilling touch of her skin and the bold wonder of bodies entwined. It is the ecstasy of this union and the profound fear of rejection mingling with the plea for acceptance. It is the uncertain but proved trust in her faithfulness. It is the brilliance and beauty of beholding the life that came forth from this oneness, the the sweet speechlessness in its presence.

Yes, glory is the truth of life to come and a world made right. It is the mystery of love. Food in every mouth and justice in every hand. This all is glory, yet it is still much more. We have tasted, we have seen, but we know not the slightest of the fullness, the greatness, the sturdiness of this anchor of all things.

the simple life, part 3

We're moving toward the practical realm here, and I think there are some worthwhile Biblical reflections that will help us to get from the inward to the outward. There is a danger in cultivating any spiritual discipline, but I think especially this one, that we will lean toward overly pietistic forms. It would be quite easy to think about Jesus' commands to seek the kingdom and his righteousness with a sort of aloof, esoteric spirituality. We could take this command to basically mean we need to get out of the world, away from all of the distractions of the physical realm, alone with God to seek His kingdom. But this would be in direct contradiction to the teaching.

In the search for simplicity, we must guard against the dangers of Gnosticism that have been prevalent for ages. Gnosticism is the basic idea that the physical world is evil, and that true spirituality is only attained by disconnecting ourselves from it. With this view, seeking the kingdom might become nothing more than a perpetual monastic retreat. However, while retreat is a part of true spirituality, it is not the full extent of it. We must remember a few things:

1) That God created this physical world, and called it very good. Creation is, as John Piper says, "God's glory gone public." God has a passion and love for the material world. It is intended to point us to his glory by all of its awesome majesty, pleasures and beauty. (Genesis 1, Romans 1)

2) That God originally blessed mankind's relationship with the created order, setting him as steward over it, and calling him to cultivate it and use the stuff of creation to make a human culture that would reflect the glory of the Creator. (Genesis 1-2)

3) That it is our sin that has distorted the original goodness of the created order. Genesis 3 shows us that the immediate result of the first sin was a disruption of man's relationships - with God, one another and creation itself. Now the world is falling apart, and we inherently abuse and serve the created things rather than the Creator (Romans 1). Our use of the material world for twisted ends is not due to the inherent evil in it, but the evil in us.

4) Christ is the ultimate "Amen!" to the goodness of God's creation. God comes to us "in the flesh," fully entwined in the grit of physical reality. Christ displays for us in his Incarnation the restoration of man and his relationship to the material world. God cared enough about his creation that he willingly entered it and lived a life in it.

5) That God's redemptive purposes extend to the entire creation. He is at work not to bring us into some fluffy heaven where we all float around in a happy spirit land, but instead he works to renew the entire creation and make it once again very good. He will restore all of the brokenness that we have wrought on the physical world. (Isaiah 11, Revelation 21)

This is all important because it provides important perspective for how we should "seek the kingdom and his righteousness." Part of this seeking will of course involve retreat and separation from the confusion of the world. We must get before the face of God and seek to have our eyes opened to him in all of his glory. But we must also seek to bring the reality of the restored creation (aka. the kingdom) into the real world. This cannot be done by forsaking all things material. Instead, part of displaying the kingdom means displaying a right relationship with the material world. We show what it looks like to enjoy created things, but without our very life depending on having them. We show the world what kingdom stewardship looks like, using the material things to cultivate a beautiful culture that reflects God's glory. Any desert retreats should be for the purpose of drawing us back to this God-given work. So let us not seek to escape the "burdens" of the real world, but instead seek to restore the right and God-intended balance to our relationship with it. This must be done in community with our fellow man and with deep reflection on God's redemptive purposes in Christ.

the simple life, part 2

To continue my thoughts on simplicity in a consumer culture, I’d like to spend one more post examining the inward part of this discipline before discussing what it looks like outwardly. I left off last time discussing the need for a “kingdom-first” mentality. This, I agree with Foster, is the core principle here. Listen to how emphatic he is on the matter:

Focus upon the kingdom produces the inward reality, and without the inward reality we will degenerate into legalistic trivia. Nothing else can be central. The desire to get out of the rat race cannot be central, the redistribution of the world’s wealth cannot be central, the concern for ecology cannot be central. Seeking first God’s kingdom and the righteousness, both personal and social, of that kingdom is the only thing that can be central to the Spiritual Discipline of simplicity.

The person who does not seek the kingdom first does not seek it at all. Worthy as all other concerns may be, the moment they become the focus of our efforts, they become idolatry. To center on them will inevitably draw us into declaring that our particular activity is Christian simplicity. And, in fact, when the kingdom of God is genuinely placed first, ecological concerns, the poor, the equitable distribution of wealth, and many other things will be given their proper attention.

This point is worth considerable reflection as we face the oppressive force of a society bent on endless consumption, boundless “growth” and individual success. There are many arguments for what will actually cause change in our society. What Foster is arguing is ultimately that redirected worship, which happens first individually and then has communal implications, is the only hope for lasting change. Given this fact, he also points out that it is possible to exhibit outward signs of simplicity without actually having it in spirit, which will ultimately lead to breakdown.

So how do we know if we are cultivating the inward reality? There is certainly no fool-proof way to be sure, but there are major things we can observe. Foster points out from the same passage we’ve been discussing (Matthew 6:25-33) that the primary sign is a freedom from anxiety. Jesus calls us to seek the kingdom first, and our worries are then put aside because we trust God to provide what we need. Here are three aspects of this freedom from anxiety*:

1) We receive everything we have as a gift from God. “What we have is not the result of our labor, but of the gracious care of God.” How absent this spirit is from our society! How absent I find it in my own heart! We strive hard because we think we must provide everything for ourselves, not trusting God to take care of us. Then we have pride because we “earned what we have.” This is counter to seeking the kingdom.

2) We trust God to take care of and protect our possessions (and other things, ie. our reputation). When we are truly seeking the kingdom, we know that our Father will take care of everything else. We still can take normal precautions such as locking the door, but we know it’s ultimately God who cares for us. And if something should happen, which is certainly possible, we know that God will care for us even in that. We no longer fret over maintaining and protecting everything we have.

3) We have our goods (and ourselves) available to others. “If our goods are not available to the community when it is clearly right and good, then they are stolen goods. . . We cling to our possessions rather than sharing them because we are anxious about tomorrow.” When we no longer fear for our provision and protection, and entrust it to God, then we are free to share and give freely and generously.

(*These are taken from Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster)

This is the inward spirit worthy of cultivation at any time, but most especially in our day and age. The world needs deeply well people to deal with deep-seated problems. How will you face the consumer ills of our time? What are you seeking? I'll look more at some outward manifestations of this in my next post on the topic. But it is the inward that must come first.

into the wild

If you haven't yet seen the film and read the novel Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer, I highly recommend both. They each highlight particular aspects of one young man's intense spiritual quest to find fulfillment, completion and meaning in the raw, open wilderness of Alaska. If you haven't seen either, and you're not familiar with the story of Chris McCandless, I won't spoil the outcome for you. But both versions of the (true) story probe deep into a curious, restless and passionate soul, in in so doing provide an insightful look at the human condition.

The film (directed by Sean Penn) does a marvelous job of bringing forward the key elements of McCandless' story, emphasizing the unexpected transformation he undergoes in the wild and bringing it home with full emotional impact. The book, while holding its share of poignant moments, fills out the details of McCandless' psyche a bit more, exploring the story from a journalistic perspective that can be a bit dry and overly informative but is nonetheless quite illuminating.

To top all that off, the film's soundtrack, written and performed by Eddie Vedder, of Pearl Jam fame, is phenomenal. Vedder was the right man to convey the raw grit and subtle beauty of this story. Journalistically, in film, and musically, this is an all-around well-told story of tragedy and unanticipated redemption.

the simple life, part 1

The “Gospel of Consumption” article I discussed in my last post has been part of a larger stream of thought for me this month. As we live in this consumer culture, I believe we find a war of sorts going on inside of us – a war of desires. On one hand, having bought into this consumer gospel, we consistently live according to its doctrine: the more you buy, the bigger the house, the nicer the appliances, the happier you will be. Yet, we also consistently find that this doesn’t actually prove to be true in reality. Then, when we look around at all of our accumulated stuff, we begin to hate it because all it really does is complicate our lives and give us more to worry about, more to maintain. So at the very same time that we desire more, we also find in ourselves a strong desire for less. We hunger for a simpler life that is not spent maintaining all of the things that don’t actually make us any happier.

This desire for simplicity is no secret. In fact, it seems to be a fairly consistent theme in the films and literature of our culture. Films such as Fight Club and, more recently, Into the Wild, explore the depths of this human desire and potential responses to it. Songwriters such as Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Thom Yorke (Radiohead), Bono (U2) and Jay Farrar (Son Volt) regularly explore the emptiness of a consumer culture and identity, while juxtaposing it against the deeper spirituality inherent to us humans. Indeed, filmmakers and songwriters, who in many ways act as prophets of our day, regularly pit those two realities against one another. Is our identity what we own? Or is it something deeper? Something both simpler and more complex? We long for a life that finds its meaning not in what we own or in a successful career, but in the depth and security of our relationships (with God and others). We all know that the label on our jeans doesn't say anything about who we are, yet somehow we can't help defining ourselves this way. (It may be far more subtle, by the way. Do you drink Kaldi's Coffee, or Folgers? Shop at Wal-Mart or Whole Foods?)

Earlier this year, I finally had a chance to read what is widely seen as a classic of Christian spirituality: Celebration of Discipline, by Richard Foster. Although it was written 30 years ago, I found it to be profoundly relevant still today. The book focuses on 12 different spiritual disciplines, one of which being simplicity. It is there that I want to linger for a few posts. Foster’s explanation of this classic discipline is something we all desperately need to delve into for ourselves in order to find a center amidst the reckless pull of a consumer culture.

First, as a brief but important note: spiritual disciplines are not intended as means toward a relationship with God. In fact, they can only rightly flow out of a relationship that is already established. Discipline that is not empowered by a restored relationship with God, based upon faith in Christ, amounts only to hard legalism and works-based salvation. Our works don’t save us, Jesus does. And he is the one who enables us to grow in any discipline. Once that relationship is established, the disciplines are what many theologians have called a "means of grace," or a God-ordained way that we grow in and deepen that relationship. That’s a whole separate discussion, and an important one, but one I won’t go further into here.

Foster points out that with any discipline, there is both an inward reality (this begins with that foundational new life in Christ I just spoke of) and an outward reality. The former must come first, before any outward fruits. So with simplicity, we don’t want to just change our practices (ie. stop buying so much stuff), but first change inwardly. I want to spend this post and the next on the inward reality, and then the last on the outward manifestations.

So how would we cultivate this inward reality? Foster points to Matthew 6:25-33, where Jesus explains that we don't need to worry about having what we will need, for God will provide our needs if we simply "seek first His kingdom and His righteousness." This is the foundation for a simple life. The reality is that we will spend our lives in pursuit of something. That's how we are made - we all worship something, whether it's God or something else. The only way to true simplicity is to renounce these other gods (whether it be the latest gadget or anything else) and seek first God's kingdom and righteousness. This means that our day-to-day priorities are determined by God and not our own passing fancies. And surely if we hope to break out of our current stream, then we must have hope in a different one. The fact that Christ is Lord, and that His Kingdom is here now and will be fully here in time, gives us a totally different world view from which to work. To pursue this kingdom means seeking a place where the last are first, where possessions are shared, and where justice is established. It is a place much different from the one we know.

It’s easy to respond to the consumer culture with frustration and anger, and come up with many possible solutions. Like I said, many already do this in various ways within our culture. But, as Foster says, we need a “place to stand” in order to see true change within ourselves and in society as a whole. Seeking the kingdom is a reorientation of our desires and pursuits so that they are pointed toward the right place, and the only place in which they can be fulfilled. Could it be that the pursuit of contentment we see so freely at work in our consumption habits is actually a reflection of a deep desire to pursue something meaningful? What if we redirected that pursuit toward that which actually lasts? That is what Jesus is saying – don’t store up treasure where everything fades away, store it in a place that endures! Seek first the kingdom – my Father’s eternal kingdom! This isn’t a killing of our desires for happiness – it’s the only place they can be fulfilled. True, in seeking genuine simplicity, we will kill some of our desires and die to ourselves. Jesus said boldly, "Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it." (Luke 9:24) So in the end we do not lose. What will remain is our life, more pure and full and human than we can possibly imagine from where we stand. So this must be the starting point for any journey toward simplicity. Only here are we free to look at our possessions and pursuits in a new light.

So what would this new pursuit look like? How might we bring Christ’s Lordship to bear in every area of our lives, both personally and publicly? How might we pursue his righteousness and make that our primary concern over what we have or what we think we need? These are good questions to chew on before moving forward with this discussion.

consumed

There is a fabulous article in the latest issue of Orion Magazine entitled "The Gospel of Consumption." It explores the cultural shift that took place during the 1920s that led to the consumer culture we now know. To understand the world we live in, it is helpful to look back and realize that there was a time when people functioned differently.

It is staggering to realize that what we often assume now as "just the way the world works" is really only a result of the cumulative choices of people, especially people in power. The Industrial Revolution that began in the 1800s led inevitably to a crossroads. We had gained previously unknown abilities and powers to produce. So a choice was laid before Americans. Now that we could produce our basic needs at a much higher rate, would we seek to use that power for good? Would we seek new and creative ways to use our newfound extra time?

Americans made a choice, and it was the folks with the money that led the way. The article references a 1929 magazine article by James Kettering, director of General Motors Research. The title of the article was "Keep the Consumer Dissatisfied." And there you have the beginning of the culture we now know, live and breathe. As the article says, "he was defining a strategic shift for American industry - from fulfilling basic human needs to creating new ones." The author of the article, Jeffrey Kaplan, goes on to say:

"Business leaders were less than enthusiastic about the prospect of a society no longer centered on the production of goods. For them, the new 'labor-saving' machinery presented not a vision of liberation but a threat to their position at the center of power."

Listen also to these words from President Hoover's 1929 Committee on Recent Economic Changes:

"Economically we have a boundless field before us; that there are new wants which will make way endlessly for newer wants, as fast as they are satisfied."

Consider the prophetic nature of that statement, made almost 80 years ago. These are the beginnings of a movement we have yet to see the end of, but one which is beginning to run its course whether we want it to or not. What began in the 1920s has played out in the creation of a society where the consumer is "king" (or slave?). The wants of the individual, or the creation thereof, drive everything about the world we know. But inevitably, the wants and felt needs of people will collide with reality. The natural world and human community have limits to what they can support.

Think about it from a different perspective: we just watched The End of Suburbia for our monthly Movies and Mindmaps discussion at Karis. This documentary explores this problem from another angle: It specifically focuses on how the suburban movement, which is deeply connected with the larger consumer movement in Western culture, has led us to the current era of peak oil and waning natural resources. The consumer mentality that began in the 1920s, though put on hold a bit during the Depression and World War II, was ultimately indoctrinated in post-WWII America. This "gospel of consumption" became: "Tired of the toil of city life? Move out to the country, live the good life away from the bustle of your workplace. Have your own space, and plenty of it. Fulfill the American Dream and have whatever you need." And heck, that was probably a pretty compelling vision in a society that had just seen some pretty bleak years.

But, as the article argues, all we've done is create a busy world where we run around like crazy in order to keep up our lifestyle of comfort and consumption. We sense that we don't really need it all, but nonetheless we work incessantly to get more, more, more. We could have a bigger house with more privacy. We could climb one more rung in the corporate ladder. We could get the latest technological device to manage our insane schedules. On and on the list could go. But what's the point? That's the great question the Orion article asks. Here's a staggering statistic: we were the richest country on the planet in 1948. Most of the world has not caught up even to where we were then. If we returned to 1948 levels of production and consumption, we could work 2.7 hours a day, and make everything we need!

Now, of course that may not be realistic or even desirable. But it illuminates an important truth for us. Our production and consumption is way beyond what is needed for us to live happy and abundant lives. This production could be aimed toward providing for the real needs of poor people throughout our country and the rest of the world, and we could do this while still working less. Many in our society work 60, 80, 100 hours a week, just to keep producing and consuming. What if we fundamentally had our priorities changed? What if we remembered that our most basic needs are spiritual, relational, and simple physical (read: food and clothing)? What if we were grounded in a deeper reality than the one marketers sell to us every day?

The businessmen of the 1920s paved the way for a society that looks to marketers to create needs, and so we have consumed the world around us with little regard for the less fortunate, the environment, or future generations. We gladly bought their vision, because we are selfish and greedy just like they are. But now we face the hard truth that our own earth can't even support our endless cravings much longer. And we face the even harder truth that the consumer vision is spiritually bankrupt. As God's image-bearers, we are first and foremost relational, moral and creative agents, not consumers. We are made to pour out for the betterment of the world God gave us, not for the endless bloating of our own selves.

The Kingdom of God, which Jesus first pronounced and displayed, turns all of this on its head. It's only in that culture that we can be returned to our rightful state as healthy and whole image-bearers of a good and gracious God. It's only there that my neighbor - rich or poor, strong or weak - matters more than myself. It's only there that we are defined not first by what we have or buy or produce, but by an identity as children of a loving King. It is not a Kingdom that can be bought and sold, but one that is freely given where there is faith in the good promises of the King. In his Kingdom, the last shall be first. So when will we stop our endless strivings and willingly become poor so that we can become a part of this Kingdom? Will we be last in a world obsessed with being first?

The article closes with a great point: "If we want to save the Earth, we must save ourselves from ourselves. We can start by sharing the work and the wealth. We may just find there is plenty of both to go around." The question that remains, though, is: who will save us from ourselves? We haven't proven to adept at that. The force for real change must come from the outside, not within. The gospel of consumption teaches us to live for our own gain at others' expense. The gospel of Christ teaches us to die that others might live. Which will create a good and just society?

Read "The Gospel of Consumption."

dangit

So I really didn't want to be that guy who started a blog, posted a couple times and then disappeared. Oops. I'm that guy. I could start into my excuses about how busy the last few months have been, but alas, everyone knows that story, so instead I'll save that and just try this again. 

Honestly, I think I need to just spit out a basic "journal entry" of sorts to get myself back into the mindset of posting. The past few months have been very busy, at times a bit too much so, but they have been marked by much of God's grace. It began with the Resurgence Conference in Seattle, hosted by Mars Hill Church. This was a fabulous time of teaching aimed at a lot of young pastors and leaders from around the world. All in all, it was an encouraging time with great messages from folks such as Mark Driscoll, C.J. Mahaney, John Piper and Matt Chandler, all focused on what it looks like for the church to remain faithful to the gospel while contextualizing the message to our particular cities and their unique cultures. All of the sermons are available on video or audio here. Better still, I finally had a chance to hang in the marvelous city of Seattle with my brother and his girlfriend, which was a great time as well.

From there it was back to Columbia for the flurry of excitement surrounding the True/False Film Festival, my favorite weekend of the year as far as living in Columbia goes. This is a primo documentary film festival - it just gets better every year. Why the name True/False, you ask? Well, it's quite the fitting title, in fact. The whole premise of the fest is sort of designed to dismantle the conception that just because a film is of the documentary variety, that must mean it is objective truth. The folks spearheading this fest rather operate under the assumption that the film-makers' perceptions and world views color how the films are made (as would of course be true of any art form). Add to this fact that we find ourselves in a time where documentary as a medium is exploding with new ideas and creativity, and you end up with a weekend full of powerful films and great discussions. This is the kind of thing that makes for a flourishing city, so I'm thrilled to be in a place where this happens every year. We were able to catch several well-crafted documentary films, none of which are widely released yet. But if you see them around, I would highly recommend the films American Teen, Very Young Girls, Forbidden Lies, Man on Wire, and the Greening of Southie. I wish I could comment on them each here, but this post would get rather long. Perhaps later.

The following three weeks were the busiest, as leading music in church always comes to a head for Good Friday and Easter. Good Friday is always one of my favorite worship services to plan, as we put the focus heavily on music and the reading of Scripture - all with the aim of powerfully portraying the weight and significance of the crucifixion. Taking communion with my community here on that night is always one of the more affecting moments of worship of each year. And of course, to follow that with the joyous celebration of Easter as we remembered again the resurrection of Christ, overall makes for the high point of the year for celebration. Our hope is all summed up right there, in Jesus' death and resurrection, and our joining into that reality by faith. It's always great times, and as usual, I was completely exhausted afterwards!

Next up was California for vacation, which came at that perfect time, for when Missouri doesn't know whether it wants Spring or Winter, California is much more certain. Sunshine and warmth were much easier to find in Los Angeles and San Diego, even if it's still cold at night down there. In any case, it was a fun time visiting several friends and catching the wedding of one of my oldest friends, Ryan, in San Diego. It had been a while since we'd been able to spend that much time together, so I was grateful for the opportunity to renew our friendship a bit, get to know his new wife better, and catch up with his family. Plus, weddings are always a great reminder of the vows Ann and I have made, and they seem to have a way of spurring us toward greater unity and renewed focus on building each other up. It was quite refreshing. All in all, we were quite blessed on our trip to California - we didn't need to rent a car or stay in a hotel, all due to the generosity and hospitality of our friends. Praise the Lord, indeed. 

So here we are, back in Columbia. We celebrated Ann's birthday last night, and thanks again to the generosity of family for our birthdays, we were able to go to the best restaurant in town, C C's City Broiler, for the first time. I don't even know how to describe the experience my taste buds had there last night. I wish I could somehow let them speak for themselves, as I'm sure they could articulate the ecstasy better than I. Fresh Blackened Salmon with fruit salsa with a Cabernet? Yes, my friends, I think I will leave you pondering the greatness of that short time of bliss. It may be another 5 years before we can go to that restaurant again, but it will be worth the wait. 

And with that, we're caught up. Please feel free to chastise me if I do not resume a more regular flow of posting.