Pride

I just picked up a book that came out last month called, Why Were Not Emergent. It's by two young evangelicals who voice their concerns and confusions about what's come to be called Emerg(ent/ing) Christianity. I'm only about halfway through it so far, but there are a couple of things that I've found very helpful.

One of the first things that struck me about the book was Ted's (one of the authors) irreverence for what he calls a kind of "groupieism" (p 93). He points out that there are just as many people who come close to idolizing people like John Piper, R. C. Sproul, and Mark Driscoll (of whom I may or may not have from time to time been one), as there are who come close to idolizing people like McLaren, Campolo, and Rob Bell.

I'm very glad that he has pointed this out. It helped me see some of my own hypocrisy, which I've glimpsed before and tried sweeping under the rug.

The other thing that hit me hard was a paragraph in Ted's chapter, "A Funeral for a Friend". In the context of a funeral for a blue-collar teacher which was attended by a diverse audience he make the following observation:

I am reminded that there are still churches and places in this country where one doesn't have to work at being "authentic." Authentic isn't a look you put on in the morning, or a new and snappy way to bathe the sanctuary in "mystery" through the strategic arrangement of candles and projected images. Authentic is bearing one another's burdens. Authentic is people coming to a funeral in their work clothes -- Carhartts, hospital scrubs, etc. -- on a Friday morning.

How often have I striven to "put on" authenticity.

Authenticity was one of the main things that first drew me to the emerging culture. It's something that many people who are drawn to the same see lacking in their own surroundings. And in themselves.

But I don't become authentic by trying to become something new. I don't become authentic by trying, period. I become authentic by being honest with myself. By taking off, rather than "putting on".

But how can such a wicked heart be honest? I know I ought not want to be seen by others. "Seeking glory" is what I think they used to call it.

Later on in the same chapter, Ted remembers a time at a conference where a Christian author takes questions from the typical young, artsy, hip-Christian types. Ted describes the group as trying to "out-deep" each other with their questions. I laughed at myself when I read this. I remember a few years back attending a couple lectures at the Cornerstone Festival in Bushnell, IL. One of them was by Brian McLaren and one was by a professor of philosphy at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School about existentialism and Christianity. Both scenes were similar to what Ted describes. An open air discussion under a tent. The speakers would speak for a while and then entertain questions -- some good and interesting, some reeking of intellectual pretension . . . and some, like mine, trying desperately to sound as deep and discerning as the others.

I can't help it. I like it when people think that I'm smart. I like to feel smart. You see, I'm incredibly egotistical. This is something that God has begun slowly to reveal to me in the past few years. I say slowly because judging by what I've realized so far, I wouldn't be able to believe the depths of my conceit were the blow not softened by incremental revelation. I can laugh about it sometimes, only because I believe God is redeeming me from it. But it is pretty ridiculous.

So then, I do seek glory. Not always, but too often. It just sort of stirs up within me, this desire to be praised. God save me from this.

You say, "It's human!"

It's wicked! It's sin.

I don't want it anymore . . . but sometimes I do.

Who will rescue me from this body of death?

On a Lighter Note . . .

I Want to be Born-Again, But no Matter How Hard I Try . . .

You know you're a nerd when you're combing the internet for sermons and audio lectures to load onto your Zune . . .

About a week ago, I was looking for some good sermons to replace the vacancy left in my routine now that one of my favorite programs, Issues, Etc. has been canceled. I was looking around on SermonAudio.com and found a couple high rated sermons by a guy named Paul Washer. I'd never heard of him and I was a little skeptical, but I figured if his sermon was top-rated, I should check it out.

I gotta be honest, after listening to that first sermon, I was hooked. I love this guy. I don't always agree with everything he says, but he says a lot of things that I certainly need to hear.

This guy knows how to shatter false assurance.

Give him a chance . . .




This video ticks a lot of people off. People don't like to hear that it's difficult to come to Christ. It doesn't groove with their image of a God who is following them everywhere with arms wide open, just waiting for them to give him permission to save them.

I don't know how to come to Christ.

I've been trying to do it for the better part of 23 years. It didn't take long for me to want to. As long as I can remember, I've "wanted" to be good. I've "wanted" to be holy; I've "wanted" to love God. I've wanted to cry out to Christ as if hell (or death, if you prefer) was opening up for me.

I'm trying, but for some reason . . . my efforts don't seem to be getting me very far.

An Evangelical Manifesto

So they rolled out the final draft today.  A committee of Evangelical leaders including the likes of Timothy George and Dallas Willard released their draft of An Evangelical Manifesto.

A couple brief initial reactions as I just finished reading it and am about to head to work:

• My overall reaction positive.  It seems to me that the Manifesto communicates well a desirable reconsideration of Evangelicalism.  I would also say that most people who think of themselves as Evangelicals would have little to say in disagreement with the committee's definitions.  The Manifesto astutely recognizes a few of the major problems within Evangelicalism and its developing trends.  Distancing myself from the label of "Evangelical" for precisely these reasons, I found a smile curling up under my nose as I read the following:
  

  All too often we have trumpeted the gospel of Jesus, but we have replaced biblical truths with therapeutic techniques, worship with entertainment, discipleship with growth in human potential, church growth with business entrepreneurialism, concern for the church and for the local congregation with expressions of the faith that are churchless and little better than a vapid spirituality, meeting real needs with pandering to felt needs, and mission principles with marketing precepts. In the process we have become known for commercial, diluted, and feel-good gospels of health, wealth, human potential, and religious happy talk, each of which is indistinguishable from the passing fashions of the surrounding world. 
  

• It ain't gonna be easy. I can appreciate the goals set forth in the Manifesto, as I'm sure many others can also. The problem is that the Evangelicalism that the Manifesto is confronting is the Evangelicalism that in large part is taught and modeled in most churches – at least in my part of the country. If we are going to have any hope to correct our course, not only will this common form of Evangelicalism have to be confronted at the local level, but people will also have to be taught, at the local level, how to embrace and pursue these goals set forth. We don't know how to do what we haven't been taught. This brings a great deal of responsibility to the local congregations and their pastors. However, it will be worth it. I long for the day when this will be the voice of the majority of Evangelicals:
  

  Unlike some other religious believers, we do not see insults and attacks on our faith as "offensive" and "blasphemous" in a manner to be defended by law, but as part of the cost of our discipleship that we are to bear without complaint or victim-playing.
  

 

Evangelicals have too long been the "martyrs" of American Civil Religion. It's time we suck it up and share in the fellowship of Christ's sufferings along with our brothers and sisters around the world.

 

That last point may be a bit overstated but it's something that jumped out at me as I was reading the document. I'll maybe have more comments as I look through the accompanying study guide – yes, a study guide.