Camping is Not Optional

What a great name for a website and organization.

 I have to say, I like their purpose, too. 

We also believe that human beings were designed to be interdependent with the natural world as well, which is why we’ve chosen an outdoor setting for these events.  While the average modern life doesn’t readily incorporate a daily relationship with the air, trees, soil, land forms and creatures that surround us, spending a period of time in more direct relationship can serve to remind us of the ways in which we might make conscious choices every day to be good stewards of the earth.  In addition, the quiet of a farm or forest or beach provides an important retreat from the noise, an opportunity to breathe deeply, listen closely and love extravagantly.

Elizabeth, the kids, and I are hoping to get in some good camping pretty soon.  If our schedule’s don’t lighten up, though, we might have to make do with our (hardly at all) rustic backyard.   We do have some poison ivy back there, so at least that part will be authentic.

Books I Like: Understanding Comics

I have been a fan of comic strips and comic books since I was a kid, and I’ve been known to pick up a graphic novel here and there. Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud is a nonfiction graphic “novel” about how and why comics “work.” Why does it look like Superman is flying? How do we know what Charlie Brown is thinking? Why do we even care?

McCloud clearly and helpfully explains the fundamental visual and narrative techniques of comics, often with very clever “meta” illustrations. I would attempt to describe some of them, but that would be as interesting as, well, explaining a comic strip. I’m not LaGuardia, here. McCloud also examines the nature of comics, the combination of words and pictures in a narrative art form.

If you are like me, a thoughtful, mature, and good-looking adult who still sneaks over the graphic novel aisle at Borders, read this book. It will arm you with plenty of explanations when your significant other asks why you spent the grocery money on six different X-Men titles and a reprint of The Dark Knight Returns.

Scott McCloud’s official website

The Complete Gospel, Abridged

Here, Scot McKnight describes some positive and negative aspects of the “Romans Road” method of presenting the gospel, including this sage comment:

First, it is only one “language game” for the gospel. The Romans Road is not “the” gospel but “a way” of expressing the gospel. It tells the truth about the gospel, but not the whole truth.

I agree that it’s not the whole story, but I have systematic theology texts on my shelf that are longer than the Bible itself, yet still aren’t the whole story. Have some Christians presented the Romans Road as the whole of the gospel? Definitely. I think that if you asked them, they would agree that there’s much more to the gospel than a handful of verses from Romans, but when you repeat an abbreviation over and over again, it becomes louder than the complete message.

To put this crassly, think about an entrepreneur’s “elevator pitch.” It’s not designed to give the whole, agonizing back story if the company, its product, production methods, target market, etc., etc. Instead, the 15 or 30 second elevator pitch is supposed to give a brief-yet-true glimpse of the business, to draw the interest of the investor or customer. Using this model, the Romans Road would be perfectly appropriate in a conversation with a stranger or in introducing a friend to the basics of the gospel for the first time, but completely inappropriate for teaching someone what it means to follow Christ daily (the “long obedience in the same direction” that Eugene Peterson writes about).

Keep in mind, of course, that as soon as you substitute any particular method of evangelism for the true gospel, you’ve settled for something sub-Christian. One of the dangers of the elevator pitch is that you’ll begin to believe it. When you describe something via shorthand, that shorthand starts to change the way you think about the original something. For a simple example, think about our nicknames for our loved ones. Another example is corporate branding. Wal-Mart has sold itself so well as the home of “lowest prices guaranteed,” that they now have trouble selling more upscale products.

This is why we have to careful about the shorthand we use to describe the gospel. Any shorthand presentation must be carefully sculpted to be completely true, even in its brevity. We must also continually return to Scripture (our primary source of the gospel). We must be reminded that God’s good news is much larger and much more grander than we can express in a few words, a sermon, or even a lifetime of books.

Does it matter what professors believe?

A friend of mine recently told me that, when she was in college, she never wanted to know her professors politics or religion. She didn’t want to have “an agenda pushed down her throat” (her words) while she was learning their subject. She just wanted to focus on the subject at hand.

Now, I work for a ministry whose mission is to develop Christian professors who will be a redeeming influence in the university. We expect their faith in Christ to influence their teaching, research, and everything else they do as professors. So my friend’s statement troubled me.  Would it be better for professors to “focus on the subject at hand” and check their politics and religion at the door?  Is it even possible?

I can appreciate my friend’s position. It always annoyed me in college when profs aggressively pushed a point-of-view that I disagreed with. But, in a college classroom, we’re all adults, and my feelings shouldn’t determine the content of the curriculum.

I am currently wrapping up a series on world religions at Lakeside, so I have various conflicting theologies bumping around in my head right now. On my way home, I began thinking about how professor’ religious beliefs might shape their teaching and research.

For example, Christianity teaches that, at the core of everything, there is a person. More specifically, there are three Persons, Three-in-One, co-existing in co-eternal community. According to Christian theology, personhood is at the center of the cosmos.  Every concept in Christianity is related to the personhood of God (e.g. sin is a personal offense against God; salvation is personal reconciliation with God).

Contrast this with Buddhism and Hinduism. Certain forms of these two religions teach that personhood is an illusion, that all distinct “persons” are really just expressions of the world-soul, which is a nonpersonal, spiritual force. Our objective in life is to perceive the world as it truly is (i.e. an illusion), to realize that there is no “self,” and to gain enlightenment that all is One.

To recap, in Christianity, personhood is fundamentally important. In certain Eastern religions, personhood is an illusion.

Wouldn’t those two perspectives lead to different conclusions in any academic subject that deals with human beings? Wouldn’t your interpretations of Shakespeare and Faulkner differ depending on whether you believed them to be two eternally distinct persons, or you believed them to be two representations of the same nonpersonal force?  Without even considering whether one of these world views is correct, wouldn’t they – shouldn’t they – affect your perspective on ethics, psychology, sociology, or healthcare?

And, if you can’t apply your deepest-held beliefs to an academic subject, if you can’t communicate those beliefs and the ensuring applications in a clear, respectful, and convincing manner, then what’s the point of being a professor?

Breaking News: All Religions Are Not the Same

Recently, many mainstream secular writers have made the simple mistake of assuming that all religions – and all religious believers – are essentially the same.

Listen to Michael Kinsey summarize Christopher Hitchens’ arguments from “God is Not Great”:

How could Christ have died for our sins, when supposedly he also did not die at all? Did the Jews not know that murder and adultery were wrong before they received the Ten Commandments, and if they did know, why was this such a wonderful gift? On a more somber note, how can the “argument from design” (that only some kind of “intelligence” could have designed anything as perfect as a human being) be reconciled with the religious practice of female genital mutilation, which posits that women, at least, as nature creates them, are not so perfect after all? Whether sallies like these give pause to the believer is a question I can’t answer.

Robert T. Miller of First Things does a great job of analyzing this book review. Miller doesn’t waste time breaking down Kinsey’s and Hitchens’ mistakes about religion, but I will. Let’s take two. There is one religion that argues that Christ died for our sins – Christianity. There is another that claims that Christ did not die – Islam. Have neither Kinsey nor Hitchens ever noticed that Christians and Muslims disagree with one another? Let’s take another – that the “argument from design” (which Kinsey conflates with Intelligent Design) is apparently inconsistent because of religious leaders’ support of female genital mutilation. Huh? Have Philip Johnson or William Dembski become African animists without anyone noticing?

On a less serious note, the same kind of ignorance is found in Max Brook’s World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie Way, a bestselling science fiction novel by the son of Mel Brooks. The novel is set ten years after “the zombie war” in which, yes, the living dead nearly took over the world, and it’s structured as a series of interviews with survivors, war vets, political leaders, etc. Overall, it tries to give a “realistic” version of what might happen. Brooks takes into account regional and cultural differences as he imagines how different countries – the US, South Africa, China, North Korea, Israel – would react to the catastrophe. As sucker for post-apocalyptic science fiction, I was massively entertained.

But Brooks stumbles big time when he tries to write about conservative Christians. They are referenced a couple of times – dismissively called “Fundies” by a few characters – and they are mocked for their belief that zombies signal the end of the world, their panicked reactions, and, most curiously, an apparent wave of suicide cults formed by Christians.

First, if the dead begin to walk as reanimated zombies, “The End Is Near!” becomes a reasonable belief for everyone, not just Christians. Second, I know a lot about religious history, and I cannot think of a single suicide cult formed by theologically conservative Christians – or Christians of any kind, for that matter. Even Christian groups that sincerely believed that the world is going to end on a specific date. When that date comes, those Christians – well, they usually realize their mistake and move on. Mass suicides like Heaven’s Gate or Jonestown were conducted by fringe, cult groups whose beliefs had almost nothing in common with traditional Christianity. Brooks seems to have made the same leap as Hitchens and Kinsey above – he knows that some religions have sanctioned mass suicide, so therefore it must be a common feature of any religion.