The seventh tee at Wild Turkey. Yes, I cleared the quary and hit the green (well, the fringe).
The twelth tee at Wild Turkey. I hit the trap on the right, but then holed a 40-foot sand wedge for a bird!
The arrow points to Chris Lewis, rookie golfer extraordinaire.
On this Memorial Day, I got up early to walk the dog and get some work done before the parade. It was eerily quiet outside. The whole town seemed to be sleeping in. There was no traffic and no one out under the bright blue sky. The town was at peace.
There was something appropriate and yet something ironic about the peace of this morning. It seemed appropriate because today we celebrate the sacrifices of the many men and women who fought to earn this peace. And yet it seemed ironic because war rages this morning throughout the world. I’m grateful to those who fought to earn the peace I enjoy today. But I long for the true shalom of God’s Kingdom, in which all our swords are beaten into ploughshares and there is no need for wars any longer.
I’ve been having a good conversation with Jeff at The Dawn Treader about the filibuster issue. To pick up the thread, in response to a comment I had made about whether conservative politics is hindering the Church from its mission, Jeff made the good point that sin — particularly selfishness — is the prime hinderance to the American Evangelical church. So here’s where it continued…
Yes, I agree that sin is the root cause of the church not being the church, and that self-centeredness is one of the besetting sins of American Evangelicalism. I didn’t mean to suggest that this filibuster issue, or politics in general, is the primary thing hindering the Church today.
For me, this understanding that popular American Evangelicalism is often self-centered makes me even more wary of jumping on any trendy political bandwagon. Does rallying for a “conservative” judiciary move us towards compassionate servanthood, or does it move us towards becoming another militant interest group demanding its “rights”? Is the emphasis on incarnating the “already” of the Kingdom while waiting patiently for the “not yet,” or are we trying to establish the Kingdom here and now through political force? Is the focus on defending the poor and oppressed, or is it on making society the way we would like it for our benefit?
I’m rambling a bit now, but maybe this last question is what’s eating at me most. I don’t believe the hearts of many of those who are in the vanguard of the religious right are anywhere near in the right place. It seems to me that they want things their way, now. Even if their way is closer to the ideal than the way things currently are, this kind of approach, in my view, undermines the deeper mission of servant leadership.
Now, at the same time, I don’t want to be overly negative about the state of Evangelicalism in America. There are many problems, but many excellent things as well. Though I’m not comfortable with how my local church does or says some things, for example, we have ministries all over our community through which many humble servants are meeting real needs and introducing people to Christ every day. Through these kinds of ministries — alcoholism recovery groups, divorce support groups, community Bible studies, hospice visits to AIDS patients, meals for families stricken by tragedy and illness, and many other such things — we are being the Church and we’re not merely blending into the larger culture. On Sunday mornings, when I lead worship, I look out over a congregation that 15 years ago was primarily old white Dutch folks, and I see those folks along with African Americans, Asians, Latinos, Indians and others gladly praising the same savior. My local church can and should do lots more along these lines, but even imperfect as it is, almost nowhere else in the broader culture is this kind of unity manifest. This is the sort of thing I want people to think of when they hear the word “Evangelical,” rather than angry rhetoric about how Nazi judges are ruining America.
Joe Carter compares “postmodernism” with Nigel Tufnel’s Amp (in the parody “This is Spinal Tap”) that goes to “11” — the point being that “postmodernism” is illusory and merely represents a “hyped up” modernity. Since I’m a guitar player, a Spinal Tap fan, and at least a casual student of the “emergent” movement, the analogy intruiged me.
My initial thought was that “postmodernism” is illusory if you define it to be so, just as “11” on a guitar amp is illusory if you define it as “10” by a different symbol. If you define “postmodernism” more precisely, however, it isn’t illusory at all. There certainly is meat to critiques of foundationalist epistemology, for example, whether or not you ultimately agree with those critiques.
Likewise, an amp that dials to “11” may well be different than an amp that uses the traditional limit of “10.” In fact, “10” doesn’t represent a fixed volume, tone or wattage; a 1970 100 watt Marshall head driving a 4×4 stack of vintage Celestions at “10,” for example, will pump out more decibles at different timbres than, say, a 15 watt Gibson tweed combo on “10”. So “11,” in a given context for a given amp, could have meaning.
My effort to frame this thought, however, isn’t nearly as eloquent as Peter Epps’ brilliant comment to Joe’s post. As Peter concludes, “[t]he postmodernist sets the amp at eleven, and enjoys the show.”
I hope Peter can forgive me for reproducing his comment in full in the extended entry below.
Yesterday I signed up for golf lessons. It’s amazing how you can think you’re doing everything right, yet have a fundamental flaw in your swing that the golf pro can spot a mile away. Apparently I’ve been swinging far too “inside” — across my body — rather than on a proper more vertical plane, and this is causing me to push shots right or hook them left. I have to retrain my body to bring the club back on the proper plane.
This is similar to spiritual life in many ways. How often do we feel that we’re doing well spiritually when in fact some of our fundamental attitudes and assumptions are wrong? Sometimes it takes an outside observer to help us see and correct such flaws.
We have family and friends, and of course the Holy Spirit, to perform this role. But I also think it can be helpful to intentionally seek out a spiritual “pro” or “coach.” There’s something about a coaching relationship that sometimes permits greater focus and candor than friends and family can provide. And, while the Holy Spirit guides individuals, God’s intention is that we live in community with other believers as the Spirit speaks to and through the Church, not that we each only follow our own “inner light.”
So, just as I’ve realized I need a golf coach if I’m going to improve my game, I realize I also need a spiritual coach if I’m going to mature spiritually. This is something I hope to seek out and find in the coming months.
Spring — when a young man’s thoughts turn towards love, and a middle-aged man’s thoughts turn towards… grilling!
Please can I have one of those burgers, pleaaase?
I played golf yesterday and it was not pretty. Or, I should say, it was not pretty off the tee. I just couldn’t get the ball “out there” and frequently was in the woods to the left, which is unusual for me. When I played a copule of weeks ago in Florida, I was consistently hitting 200+ yard drives straight as an arrow right down the middle. The funny — or frustrating — thing is, yesterday my short irons were pretty good, and they usually are a problem for me. I hit several very nice, high, straight shots that landed softly on the green from around 115 yards.
So what does this have to do with real life? It seem so hard to get all the parts of the game working together. You make progress in one area only to regress in another. The goal of “putting it all together” to achieve your target score (at least for me) doesn’t ever seem to materialize.
And so it is (at least for me) with everything else in life. Progress in one aspect of work — in the old days, winning a case, or now, getting an article published — gets overshadowed by problems in other areas — bad results in a different case, mix-ups with the University administration, getting behind in lecture notes, a complaining student. Something positive in the spiritual life — a good stretch of consistent Bible study and intensive prayer, for example — is exploded by bouts of temper, lust, envy or anxiety. A quiet, harmonious day at home is interrupted by a silly argument. The game never seems to come together for that perfect score.
I know how to approach this: redefine success shot-by-shot; don’t think about the score; focus on each shot as it comes; put a bad shot behind you and try to make a better shot the next time. “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matt. 6:34). Easy to say, hard to do.
Isaiah 58 contrasts true and false worship. False worship involves religious observance — “bowing one’s head like a reed” — but “ends in quarreling and strife” and evidences no concern for others. In contrast, true worship is reflected primarily in our actions towards the poor and oppressed:
Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to lose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter–
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
(Isaiah 58:6-7)
Forgive me, O God, for bowing my head without also reaching out my hands to those in need.
Joe Carter at Evangelical Outpost posts some interesting thoughts about the criteria for evaluating worldviews, which provoked the flurry of comments (over 220!) that seems typical for Joe’s site. Ultimately this is all about epistemology, and I’m not quite sure about Norman Geisler’s “undeniability” criteria referenced in Joe’s post. Actually, I am fairly sure about it — it doesn’t make much sense to me, because certain things are “undeniable” only if you approach them based on assumptions that are not undeniable. It’s that whole foundationalism / infinite regress problem again.
But what I really wonder is whether all this energy spent on justifying our “worldview” is misplaced. I don’t name a “worldview” as Lord. I name Jesus as Lord. Jesus didn’t commission me to argue with people about my “worldview.” He commissioned me to introduce people to him so that they could become his disciples. In other words, it’s not about the system of thought I’ve built up around the truths of Christianity. It’s about a relationship with Christ.
This isn’t to discount the importance of ideas or the need to bring Christian truth to bear in the public square. In fact, much of my working energy is devoted to those very things. But it seems to me that there’s a dangerous shift afoot. Not long ago, Evangelicals had to be coaxed into the public square. Now, we’re there with a vengance — sometimes literally with a vengance. It seems we’re sometimes more interested in making arguments about politics and policy than in bringing people to the savior.
The utlimate justification for our “worldview” isn’t “undeniability” or any other epistemic criteria. It’s Christ. Some things we “know” only because we’ve been called into a relationship with Christ. If our principal focus is “worldviews” rather than Christ, we will miss the boat.
Today we had a pee-wee baseball game with my seven-year-old son’s team. I’m the manager. My four-year-old son tags along (he even wears baseball pants). After the game, the three of us Opderbeck men went to McDonald’s. Sitting there with my boys, watching them devour their McNuggets and joke around with each other, it struck me that this is it. This is one of those moments that you want to bottle up for a rainy day. “Sons are a reward from the LORD, children a heritage from him.” (Psalm 127:3). Amen!