Something More Than Life

Since we are in the middle of Holy Week, I've been thinking a lot about the concept of resurrection, which is what we Christians celebrate at Easter. It's a bit farfetched these days to believe in anything like a literal resurrection and all that it entails: that death is not the final chapter of our lives; that we were made to live forever; indeed, that all of existence (which seems to show nothing but death and decay) will be remade according to its original glorious design. It's truly irrational and unbelievable.


In spite of this, it seems to be a universal hope.


Three of my favorite writers--G. K. Chesterton, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien (why do they insist on being known by their initials??)--all made the same fascinating observation:


Throughout human history, almost every culture and religion has taught something akin to resurrection. Almost every ancient pagan religion has some myth about a god who is killed and then comes back to life. In Norse mythology, it was the god Balder. For the ancient Egyptians, it was Osiris. For the Celtic peoples of Britain, it was the god Lugh who was killed by being hung on a tree and then comes back in victory.


But then let's look at modern philosophies and worldviews: All of them, even the most atheistic and materialistic, do not merely tell you that life is good exactly the way it is. They all say that life will only be good in some unknown, ideal future when all the injustices and human failures are eradicated and the goodness of life is renewed. This is true of the socialism of Karl Marx, the Objectivism of Ayn Rand, and even the American Progressivism of Barack Obama and his allies. Eastern philosophies and religions do this as well.


Not one philosophy or religion of life has taught us that we must be satisfied with the world as it is. Every single human teaching avers that there is something more than life that is just beyond our grasp, something that gives our lives meaning and hope and renewal, and it exists either in some mythical past of gods and goddesses or in some undefined future that we have yet to see.


There is only one religion that teaches that the something more than life, for which we all hope, actually became a tangible, datable fact of history. That fact is that Jesus Christ lived and was crucified "under Pontius Pilate" (which even Greek, Roman, and Jewish historians attest) and that He rose to new life. The early Christians insisted on the historicity of the resurrection to the point that Saint Paul proclaimed, "If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith" (I Corinthians 15:14). He was willing to stake the entire Christian faith on the fact of Christ's resurrection as a historical event.


Christians do not believe that they are better than anyone else. What they do believe is that they have found a concrete answer to the deep desire that animates every human heart -- or rather, they believe that the concrete Answer has found them. Because of that, they are able to enjoy the something more than life even here on earth, and on their best days, they live their lives in a way that makes that something more than life visible to others.


If you are a Christian, take a moment to recognize that what you celebrate this Sunday is not merely a nice tradition or an orthodox theological dogma: it is the deepest truth that every human being desires, even if they can't admit it to themselves. May that recognition give added meaning to this season for you.


If you are not a Christian, I still challenge you to take a moment and celebrate this Easter. Celebrate the fact that deep down, you know that life as we know it is not enough for you. You want something more. Something that you may not be able to define. But something that you hope is real.


Have a blessed Easter!


(For more insights on this, I highly recommend G. K. Chesterton's The Everlasting Man, J. R. R. Tolkien's essay "On Fairy Stories," and C. S. Lewis' book Miracles or his essay "Myth Become Fact." Great reading!)

The Grand Miracle

"The Christian story is precisely the story of one grand miracle, the Christian assertion being that what is beyond all space and time, what is uncreated, eternal, came into nature, into human nature, descended into His own universe, and rose again, bringing nature up with Him. It is precisely one great miracle. If you take that away there is nothing specifically Christian left."

- C. S. Lewis


"The Incarnation is the eucatastrophe of human history. The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the Incarnation. This story begins and ends with joy."

- J. R. R. Tolkien

Inklings and Emergents

I have made no apology about my obsession with The Inklings, whose writings have shaped my thinking more than any others (except--hopefully--for the Bible). I also attempt to keep up on what is current in Christian thinking and practice, not because I'm particularly interested in being "relevant" or "with it" but because we must follow Christ's command to read the signs of the times. For that reason, I also am interested in listening to the leaders of the Emerging Church like Brian McClaren, Dan Kimball, Spencer Burke, and Tony Jones.

I recently brought these two stands of thought together and came up with a remarkable observation: the two groups of Christian thinkers have some interesting commonalities, as well as some telling divergences.

Here's what I think:

COMMONALITIES:

1 - Both groups regarded themselves as an "informal conversation" rather than a formal, structured church ministry. Their conversation generally occurred outside the framework of institutional religion - in fact, more often than not, it occurs in pubs with pints of beer in abundance.

2 - Both groups are "trans-denominational," drawing from all backgrounds and theological perspectives.

3 - Both groups were critical of modern rationalism which confines all truth to scientific categories and all religious belief into a shallow, respectable "churchianity."

4 - Likewise, both groups were critical of the modernist view of God (almost Deism) and sought to reclaim the free, wild, sovereign Christ who shatters all of our pretentions and dares us to follow Him.

5 - Both groups prefered to use the arts (rather than systematic treatises) to communicate the Christian faith, seeking to engage the "intuitive imagination" (rather than just reason) of their audiences.

6 - Both groups had severe criticism for the institutional churches of their age for being more interested in self-preservation than in communicating Christian truth to people in contemporary language and in practical ways.

7 - Interestingly (but perhaps superficially), both groups were composed of white males. This is not a criticism of either group. It does, however, point to an irony in the Emergent movement, a movement which claims to represent a more diverse Christianity than that of the modern church.

DIVERGENCES:

1 - While the Inklings were made up almost exclusively of laymen, most of the Emerging Christians are either pastors or have served in some official capacity in a local church.

2 - The Inklings may have been deeply critical of the open heresy and sin in various Christian communions, but they were entirely supportive of (and indeed, loved) The Church as an institutional reality. On the contrary, most Emerging Christians are (at the very least) critical of The Church as an institutional reality, some of them opting to leave the church entirely. They stress the relational aspect of the Gospel almost to the point that they believe that the Institution is more of a hindrance than a means of furthering the relationship.

3 - The Inklings believed that their role was to bring the Church back to its basic faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and to fight against a watered-down, relativistic gospel that seemed prevalent in many denominations. Emergents, on the other hand, seem to believe that their role is to bring the Church into a greater engagement with American Culture, even as they present a very watered-down, relativistic gospel...even to the point of denying the exclusivity of Jesus Christ or His substitutionary atonement on the Cross.

4 - The Inklings followed the wisdom of the ancient and medievals writers who believed that, while our knowledge may not be 100% perfect, our minds are capable of reasoning, making judgments, and knowing the difference between truth and falsehood, right and wrong. Conversely, Emergent Christians are deeply suspicious of any truth claims and seem offended by any inference that a person must choose either/or.

5 - The Inklings, by and large, held a high view of the Bible and of the historic confessions of the Church. For them, these are not "living documents" to be updated in different cultural realities, but truth statements that confront all cultures and challenge people to repent and believe. Obviously, the Emergents have a much more watered-down view of Scripture and the Creeds, believing that nothing in Scripture is above culture. Therefore, cultural realities become the standard by which to interpret Scripture and the Creeds (rather than the other way around).

Well, that's what I think. What do you think?

Signs of Hope are Everywhere!

Here are some grim facts about reality today:

Gas prices are way too high... The economy is in serious trouble (especially here in Michigan)... The political dialogue in this country has declined to a level that would make our Founding Fathers ashamed to be called Americans... America is engaged in a war that, in my opinion, is no longer justified if it ever was... Too many teenagers are graduating from high school without adequate knowledge, direction, and confidence to make their way in the world... Divorces, teen pregnancies, abortions, and sexual depravity continues to pollute our moral landscape... And there is devastation, poverty, and injustice on every continent of the globe.

Our world is clearly flawed on some fundamental level. A person...even a Christian...could easily be tempted to throw up his or her hands and choose cynicism, despair, or indifference. God knows that I am often tempted to lean in that direction.

But then I return again and again to the writings of the Inklings and I find that, in spite of all temptations, I must choose a different attitude.

In his classic Orthodoxy, G. K. Chesterton distinguishes between three ways of looking at this world. The first is pessimism, (pretty much described above) in which one sees the evil, injustice, and inhumanity in the world and immediately concludes that the world is unredeemable. This pessimism, Chesterton writes, is not an option for any true Christian.

Secondly, one may choose what Chesterton calls "rational optimism," in which a person looks at the world around him or her through rose-colored classes, simply avoiding any engagement with the evils and injustices of the world, and merely settling for the way things are. While I'm sure we have all run into Christians like this, Chesterton would argue that this is also not an option.

The third option is what Chesterton labels "irrational optimism," and this is the true attitude to be espoused by the disciple of Christ. Irrational optimism is when the person sees what the world has become, acknowledges its fallenness, but still wills to see a deeper hope. The Christian believes that in spite of the wickedness and inhumanity all around us, the world is literally saturated with God's grace, beauty, and goodness. If we look hard enough, even when we are enmeshed in the worst that life can throw at us, we can find signs of hope, signs that God is still acting redemptively to fulfill His purposes in the world.

In Tolkien's The Return of the King, there is an incredible line that I think of often. It involves one of my favorite characters, Sam Gamgee, when he is in the devastated land of Mordor, exhausted from a long journey, with evil all around him. Here are Tolkien's poignant words:

"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach."

May God give us the wisdom to know that evil and injustice, in spite of their imposing presence in our lives, are nothing more than superficial Shadows that have been defeated forever in the Cross of Jesus Christ. And when confronted with evil and injustice, may God give us the "irrational optimism" to look deeper and to see His glory and grace...and then to go forth boldly with the spiritual armor to resist the Shadow and to do our part in restoring God's masterpiece of Creation.

Praying our Theology

Austin Farrer (1904-1968) was Doctor of Divinity and fellow of Trinity College, Oxford. He was good friends with C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, and a member of their discussion group, "The Inklings." Although not nearly as famous as his friends, he was a published and highly respected theologian.

Recently I read a quote of his that deserves attention: "No doctrine deserves its place unless it is prayable, and no Christian deserves his doctrines if he does not pray them."

A remarkable insight, which reminded me of another quote by Saint Augustine: "The theologian is a person whose prayers are true."

Isn't it amazing how often in our personal lives, in our churches, and perhaps especially in seminary, we separate these two disciplines?

We often treat (and present) theology as a boring, cerebral enterprise in which only the "learned" can engage. We often use it as a means of confirming our own presuppositions, drawing distinct boundaries beyond which no "true believer" may go. And we certainly do not present it to our congregations as something that has any practical value for everyday life.

Conversely, how frequently are our prayers little more than sentimental "gift lists" offered up to a benign Deity Who (we think) should give us whatever we ask for? Does the language of our prayers ever represent a real recognition of Who it is we are talking to? Do our prayers express our hope in God's will, or are they mere expressions of our will?

After reading Farrer's quote and remembering Augustine's, I decided to share a couple examples of what my prayer life has included lately. I hope it'll inspire you to make your prayers good theology, and to make your theology a prayerful longing for intimacy with God.

INCARNATION: "Lord Jesus, at a specific moment in history, You poured Yourself out of the glorious heavenly realms and entered into the world of humans. Not just a generic humanity. You had a specific appointment among a specific people, with real hopes and aspirations, as well as real needs and hurts. You fully identified with those people, walking among the most desperately in need of help, You touched them, You visited them, You wept with them. I am Your disciple, Jesus, so help me to do what You did in this very specific appointment that I have among a very specific people. Take away my desire to remain in my comfort zones. May I so enter their world and identify with them that they may know, without me saying a word, that I love them unconditionally, and through me, may they come to know You as well."

THE TRINITY: "Almighty God, You who are not only One but Three, You have much to say to my culture that is so overcome with a mentality of individualism. If even You, the Ultimate Reality, exist in comunity, how much more important is it for us humans to exist in community? To draw strength and wisdom from our brothers and sisters? To exist in common purpose with others, even though we might have different personalities, functions, and distinctive gifts? Grant me the wisdom to know that in life, and in ministry especially, I can not pridefully act as a Lone Ranger, but must humbly recognize the need to depend on others."

Eucatastrophe

Strange word, huh?

It's a word that was invented by J. R. R. Tolkien, while he was creating the fantasy world of Middle Earth. Tolkien noted that the English language had the word "catastrophe," which Webster defines as "the final event of a tragedy" or "a momentous tragic event ranging from extreme misfortune to utter overthrow and ruin." As a Christian, however, he felt the need for an antonym to catastrophe, and so he got out his old Greek lexicon and found the prefix eu- ("good" or "well"). A "eucatastrophe" is a good catastrophe...or "a momentous joyous event ranging from extreme good fortune to utter victory.

There are many illustrations of eucatastrophe in Tolkien's books (and the movies), but two particularly stand out in my mind (and you can see the photos above):

1. At the end of the movie version of The Two Towers, defeat is at hand for the King of Rohan as he failed to defend Helm's Deep. Yet right when the small band of heroes seem totally overrun, they look up to the mountain and see Gandalf, the White Rider, bringing an army of soldiers (not to mention a great Sunrise!!!) and they totally annihilate the forces of evil.

2. When Frodo and Sam finally reach Mount Doom, Frodo is unable to part with the One Ring. When Gollum wrestles Frodo and finally gets his "precious" all to himself, it looks as though evil has triumphed. Yet at that very moment, the unexpected happens, when Gollum himself falls into the fires of doom, unwittingly dealing the final death blow to evil.

So why am I writing a whole blog about one invented word? Because as Christians, we need to believe in the "eucatastrophe." It is so easy to get caught up in the negativity, fatalism, cynicism and despair of the culture around us. Rather than standing FOR something, the majority of people in the world are content merely to be perpetual critics, finding something wrong with everything but offering no positive solutions.

But we Christians believe that a eucatastrophe actually happened in history! Just when it seemed as though the forces of evil had triumphed, on that Good Friday afternoon, it was at that very moment that they were being defeated by the foolishnees and weakness of a God Who can not be defeated even by human wisdom and strength. We Christians have a resurrection faith! We Christians have GOOD NEWS to preach!

And you know what? I still see eucatastrophes happening all the time! In my own life, there were times when I thought things were going pretty bad, and all of a sudden an unexpected blessing would come in, reminding me that God is still sovereign and that Christ is victor over all the powers of the Enemy. God is always surprising me with joy, even in the midst of a culture of despair and death.

What are some eucatastrophes in your life? How has God brought unexpected joy and victory into your life?

"The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of human history. The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the Incarnation. This story begins and ends in joy." - J. R. R. Tolkien

Amen!

Inklings of Faith

Back in the 1930's and 1940's in Oxford, England, a group of scholars got together at a local pub (The Eagle and Child), and their expressed purpose was to discuss the implications of living out their Christian faith in the world. This group contained both Catholics and Protestants, but their shared concern was communicating the essence of the Christian faith to a materialistic world...and challenging the ineffectiveness of the Church in doing the same. This group referred to themselves as "The Inklings," and its membership included C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Charles Williams, Owen Barfield, and Dorothy L. Sayers.

It is my conviction that what the American Church--especially its mainline denominations--needs today is a new group of Inklings willing to engage in theological conversation and find creative ways to transform the presentation of Christ's message, while maintaining its integrity and truthfulness. As it is, mainline leaders appear to be more interested in appeasing the various warring factions within their institutions. Regardless of what these leaders say about "our common bond as Christians," the various factions have NO shared epistemological foundations or like-minded vision of what the Church ought to be. In such a situation, those denominations have little chance of offering a united pastoral voice to a deeply troubled world.

So I'm opening this blog to post my thoughts on the future of Christianity, specifically on how we can communicate the message of Christ intelligently and compassionately, without selling out its substance, and without trying to limit the sovereignty of the Holy Spirit. If you share these concerns, please join me!