The Test of Faith documentary looks like a superb new resource from the Faraday Institute. Here is the trailer.
Month: August 2009
- Prepping for the first day of Torts class #
- Over 40 soccer #
- Visiting garrett at hospital #
- Finished torts class, meeting with students on papers, heading to the hospital later to stay with Garrett. #
- “The person who has never contended with God like Job does not understand the death cry of the crucified Christ.”. — Jurgen Moltmann #
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“A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one.”
— Martin Luther, “The Freedom of a Christian”
On Jesus Creed, RJS, a professor at a major research university, is reviewing a book on missional campus ministry. This is post is so insightful, and so close to my own heart, that I’m going to reproduce it below:
The church I attend has an outstanding youth ministry. No question. And intentionally inter-generational worship. The staff is intent on building relationships. The church is thriving, even growing. The number of families with young children is increasing. And yet …
My daughter graduated from high school this year. She has been in this church since we moved here just after her first birthday; she “belongs.” There was a big graduation luncheon – complete with video and moving remembrances (we had known roughly half the 15-20 seniors since they were in preschool); the whirlwind of graduation ceremonies, family visits, and open houses. And the next Sunday as we prepared to leave for church she informed me that she was now supposed to attend one of the adult education communities … and as she put it “No Way!” For a time perhaps she no longer belongs.
This leads to the question I would like to address today.
What does your church do to intentionally reach, walk along side, and disciple 18-25 year-olds?
The above incident – while true – also gives a bit of a wrong impression. We are in a University town and have a growing church based campus ministry reaching college students, graduate students, and beyond. June, July and August are slow months for campus ministry (and other ministries). Nonetheless this incident is telling — our 18 to 25 year-olds are entering a strange new world. They are not children, or even youth – but neither are they full-fledged adults. The expectation that they will smoothly enter the adult program (even for the summer) is unrealistic. Emerging adulthood is an excellent description.
Church based college ministry – ministry to the college-aged adults is the focus of Chuck Bomar’s new book College Ministry 101: A Guide to Working with 18-25 Year Olds. This book is what “101” implies, an introductory guide and overview. I found it an easy read with a number of excellent insights. There is little detailed analysis, although he is clearly familiar with much of the literature. I will highlight a few of his points to start a discussion.
Why College-Age Ministry? This may seem obvious to some, but certainly not to all. The drift of college-age people from church is a well documented phenomenon.
“If our goal is to develop mature believers (and I hope it is!) we can’t afford to watch college-age people detach from the church. Developing ministries that nurture and disciple college-age people isn’t optional for churches. It’s part of our calling as the body of Christ. “(p. 21)
Ask Scot if we have a problem and stand back – we’ll get an earful (a well researched and articulated earful). We have a problem.
Identity formation. Many of the reasons for a church to invest in an intentional college-age ministry arise from the specific features of this age, amplified by our modern society where higher education of some form is becoming the norm. Bomar stresses the importance of identity formation for college-age people. They are exploring, taking ownership. and becoming. It is an exciting, challenging, and unsettling time.
“I want to say once more that identity formation isn’t just a big issue for this age group. It is the issue. I know some leaders who wonder why they need to understand identity formation. They believe that if they simply teach the Word of God, then identity will take care of itself. But this search for identity is so all-consuming that it greatly impacts the way a young person understands the Word. Identity is where our concern ought to lie.” (p. 37)
A successful college-ministry will emphasize relationships, discipleship, and mentorship, not numbers and programs. We need to meet people where they are – and college-age people are not, for the most part, settled and suited to our standard church model.
Teaching and Discipleship – one of Bomar’s best sections.
“Our traditional approach to spiritual formation isn’t really forming people as much as it is indoctrinating them. The simple articulation of conclusions we’ve come to doesn’t prepare college-age people for the intellectual challenges they’ll face as adult Christians.
Let me put this another way. College-age people who were raised with one perspective on questions of identity and meaning and life eventually become aware that this perspective isn’t the only way of thinking, that the answer might not have been as simple as the church made it seem. They start to wonder why we never told them about these other perspectives. And then they question all the conclusions we’ve taught them, wondering if the church is hiding something.” (p. 129)
According to Bomar a good college-age ministry should break away from the educational model. We shouldn’t teach our conclusions, we should teach the method used to reach our conclusions. A good college-age ministry doesn’t provide answers, it develops people “passionate about thinking correctly, asking questions, and seeking answers for themselves.” (p. 131)
This is a frightening prospect for some. It seems safer to provide the right answers up front. After all, if we don’t some of their conclusions and answers may differ from ours. But this we must leave in the hands of God, in the humble realization that some of our conclusions, answers, and positions are likely wrong.
Bomar suggests three significant changes:From teaching the law to teaching the faith; from knowing facts to understanding truth; from surface assumptions to deeper connections. We must realize that difficult questions often have ambiguous answers – and become comfortable with this.
Well, this is enough to give a taste – Bomar’s book contains practical wisdom and insight. It is a good start, but only a start to spur deeper conversation and thinking about college-age ministry.
This is the second entry in the “Redemptive Violence and Film” series between yours truly and Thomas. This is my first entry: “Terminator: The Eschaton.”
“I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war.” – Rev. 19:11
The summer blockbuster film Terminator Salvation follows the exploits of John Connor as he fights for the human disapora against Skynet, an artificial intelligence that seeks to obliterate humanity in favor of a world run by and for machines. It’s a bad movie, filled with ludicrous plot holes (Earth to machines: haven’t you seen Goldfinger and Austin Powers? Kill John Connor before letting him into your secret lair!), though the post-apocalyptic special effects are undeniably cool. Yet, with all its absurdities, something about Terminator Salvation nudges my Biblical-relevance-o’-meter. Is it Left Behind for our ironic post-industrial sensibilities?
I spent many hours in my youth listening to preachers who thought they had figured out the imagery of Revelation 19. They imagined the armies of the earth literally gathered on the plain of Armageddon (the Megiddo Pass) to confront Christ, the Rider on the White Horse, in physical battle. At the conclusion of this decisive battle, the “beast” and the “false prophet” who lead the rebellion against Christ are “thrown alive into the fiery lake of burning sulfur” (v. 20). The remaining combatants are “killed with the sword that came out of the mouth of the rider on the horse, and all the birds gorge[] themselves on their flesh” (v. 20-21). (These scenes are only available in the “Unrated Director’s Cut” version of the Bible. The Disney Family Bible skips right to the “no more tears” part).
Here is “redemptive violence” at its thickest. Only after this cleansing apocalypse — and the ensuing, mysterious millennial period and final outbreak of rebellion in Chapter 20 — do we reach the quiet shores of the New Jerusalem in chapter 21, in which God “will wipe every tear from [his people’s] eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (v. 4).
I will need to demur to the literalism of those “Summer Bible Conference” preachers who first introduced me to the starkly horrific elegance of the Bible’s apocalyptic literature. Precisely because the genre is apocalyptic, these images must be understood as images, impressionistic and sometimes nearly incomprehensible pictures of realities far deeper than their “literal” surface. Those preachers were correct, however, to note that the divine reckoning they represent, in which “kings, generals, and mighty men, [and] horses and their riders” are judged along with “all people, free and slave, small and great” (ch. 19, v. 18) by the blazing light and piercing truth of Christ, is a violent act.
So perhaps we can see John Connor as Christ figure, a Rider on a White Horse, expurgating the steel-cold machinations of sin, leading a remnant of humanity to its final salvation. I would like to say that this is so, except that Connor also embodies the trope of the tragically stoic hero, the man who must deny his humanity so that others can live. Maybe Connor is a kind of high Medieval Christ, staring distantly from an altar triptych with big, vacant eyes. Better yet, he might reflect a Nestorian duality, never truly entering into the price of his atoning violence. Either way, we, the movie audience, are invited to gaze at the spectacle of a mechanical ritual sacrifice without experiencing the expurgation of real blood, sweat and loss. “Terminator” ultimately offers us Salvation without kenosis. For the real thing, the Rider must win his White Horse by way of the Cross.
This is from Daniel Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology. I think Migliore’s discussion of what Christian “faith” entails is a highlight of this wonderful systematic theology.
Christian freedom is the beginning of a new freedom from the bondage of sin and for partnership with God and others. This fresh start has its basis in the forgiving grace of God present in the new humanity of Jesus with whom we are united by the power of the Holy Spirit. He is the perfect realization of being human in undistorted relationship with God. He is also the human being for others, living in utmost solidarity with all people, and especially with sinners, strangers, the poor, the disadvantaged, and the oppressed. He is, further, the great pioneer (Heb. 12:2) of a new humanity that lives in radical openness to God’s promised reign of justice, freedom and peace. In his total trust in God, Jesus acts as our great priest, mediating God’s grace and forgiveness to us; in his startling solidarity with all people, and especially with the poor and outcast, Jesus acts as our king, bringing us into the new realm of justice and companionship with the ‘others’ from whom we have long been alienated; and in his bold proclamation and enactment of God’s in-breaking reign, Jesus is the prophet who leads the way toward the future of perfect freedom in communion with God and our fellow creatures for which all creation yearns. To be Christian is to participate by faith, love and hope in the new humanity present in Jesus.
- Working on the Torts syllabus #
- At law school orientation. More excited than trepidatious for a new year. #
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I’m starting a series with Thomas at Everyday Liturgy on “Redemptive Violence in Film.” Here is the first post, from Thomas:
In the critically acclaimed genre stalwart High Noon, Gary Cooper plays Will Kane, a town sheriff who learns of the release of a murderous, bloodthirsty villain named Frank Miller the same day he marries a Quaker woman and promises to retire his badge and lead a simple, peaceful life as a shopkeeper.
Conflicted about the release of Frank Miller, Kane decides to stop the horses, get back to town, and defeat Frank Miller once and for all.
But, in the years since Frank Miller went away to jail, the town so united by their victory over the ruthless criminal has now become a town more excited by money and good times than by justice, equity, and community. This is the world Kane has policed for so many years, and even though he is often told he doesn’t need to protect them, there is a new sheriff coming tomorrow, and it’d be best he just went away to avoid trouble Kane nonetheless stays to protect the town.
The town, so numb to guns and violence, wants no part in just another shooting. No one will join a posse to round up Miller again, so Kane decides to go it his own. This whole time, Grace Kelly’s wonderfully played Mrs. Kane, only a half hour after her wedding to this man, finds herself sitting in a hotel waiting for a train to take her to St. Louis and divorce (has to be a record). Mrs. Kane, as a Quaker, is a pacifist and cannot accept her new husband carrying around a gun, let alone being motivated to use it once more. She sits, perplexed and conflicted, in the hotel counting down the hours until the noon train.
[Spoiler Alert] Here in lies the myth of redemptive violence, when Kane must face down four armed men in the town center to defend his pride (now thoroughly hubris and self-deception). It is insane to protect a town that does not want you around, even more insane to make a rash decision that leads to your wife wanting a divorce after a half hour of marriage, and most insane to go against men four to one. And the myth is this: Kane wins. He shoots three of the men after the noon train comes in an elongated shootout that starts as his wife is leaving for St. Louis. She runs off the train thinking she will find her husband’s dead body, yet instead finds one of the villains. Her husband has killed. Instead of becoming infuriated and running back for the train, Mrs. Kane grabs a gun and shoots a villain in the back, giving her husband the chance he needs to finally defeat Frank Miller with a spree of bullets, sending him to his death.
Violence has brought peace, and the couple that was on the brink of divorce is united in the defeat of the forces that would have separated them, and they ride off into the sunset leaving the cowardly townspeople in their dust.
There is another way to read the end of this story, one that deconstructs the myth of redemptive violence. This myth says violence is the only way to assure peace. Unfortunately the peace the Kane’s find is one that is hollow and individualistic instead of uniting. Peace should be a uniting force, yet in the Western peace is not the salvation of a community as much as the use of violence as a will too power. The individual leaves only when they have exerted their will upon a place and exercised hubris as the only moral authority (watch Appaloosa, a movie that features the town’s laws being actually signed over to the hired guns).
Riding off into the sunset is a symbol of individualism at all costs, and the cost is community. There are a few movies, like The Magnificent Seven, where morality is not tied to economy but tied to justice, and the hired guns slowly become part of the peaceful community and the violence at the end of the film is defense, not mercenaries. One of the guns even stays behind and becomes incorporated into the community. The traditional western ethos is one of violence assures peace, and the approval of a Quaker going against her religion and a prideful man gunning down villians when he had no real legal authority or need to do so is a celebrated act. This act can be turned on its head though as the couple leaves the town immediately and sets off for the sunset. Violence is always an act of separation, and though violence has brought the Kanes together once more it separates them from the community. Peace, as any Quaker can tell you, is an act of unity and community. Peace brings unity, even if it enters the gray area of defense as in The Magnificent Seven. Redemptive violence is tragic because it only gives peace to one of the parties, and the other party is left dead or in ruins, as in war, revenge, and retaliation. The Kanes may look safe and sound and ready to enjoy their honeymoon, but they leave a town with four dead bodies and a broken moral compass, a town that on the outside looks a lot like what’s on their inside: persons who have compromised their integrity, religion, and morality for the sake of “peace.”
- Sun breeze surf #
- Is getting eaten alive by flies on the beach. Good thing the water is nice. #
- Just saw a guy’s fishing pole get pulled out of its sand spike and dragged out to sea by a fish #
- A rainy day at the beach is better than a rainy day at work. #
- Gray skies, rough seas, and Bauckham on eschatology. #
- Beautiful beach day #
- At marching band dinner #
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Bauckham and Hart on Hope and Change
Only insofar as we are able to evisage how things might be different from the way they are in the world, how they might change in the future, how they are intended by God ultimately to be, do we have any final grounds for refusing to accept the way the world presently is.
— Richard Bauckham and Trevor Hart, Hope Against Hope; Christian Eschatology at the Turn of the Millennium.