>who inherits the earth?

>
Protesters outside the G20 in Pittsburgh
demanding fundamental change.

Consider these quotes:

“The great and chief end…of men’s uniting into commonwealths and putting themselves under government, is the preservation of their property.”

~ John Locke, 1689

“But as the necessity of civil government gradually grows up with the acquisition of valuable property, so the principal causes which naturally introduce subordination gradually grow up with the growth of that valuable property.”

~ Adam Smith, 1776

“Till there be property there can be no government, the very end of which is to secure wealth, and to defend the rich from the poor.”

~ Adam Smith, 1776

Pittsburgh police, defending the rich
from the poor at the G20.

If you didn’t know who wrote these words you might think they were from the pen of Karl Marx. Interesting. More substantive than economic systems and their ideologies (and their debates) is the concentration of power and its supporting hegemonies. In other words its all about who inherits the earth and how they keep it. Little do they know…

“Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth. ”

~ Jesus, c. 30

The gentle, or meek, have a different relationship to property and wealth than those who climb over others to make the world their own. It is not that they do not want the world, it is that they recognize having the world for their own is not worth being the kind of person who has no interest in loving others as their primary motivation. To love the world is to give up loving people. It is not a good trade – no matter how free the market. Gaining the world is not worth a lousy character, and no amount of economic ideology can convince otherwise.

Mr. Obama hamming at the G20.

Questions of character are always personal, but what about our institutions of power? We live in a world that places a kind of sacred halo around the idea of private property. We know that the Declaration of Independence almost contained the phrase “life, liberty and the protection of property.” I don’t want anyone to take my home away from me, but I have to think that the ownership of property and all its attendant rights (real or perceived) only gets understood as sacred in a world that has turned its back on truth. The irony is not merely that to gain the whole world is to lose one’s soul, but also to gain one’s soul is to gain the world.

There is that old adage that all governments lie. It is just as true that governments, first and foremost, exist to protect the haves and the things they own. Only secondarily, and usually through great struggle, are benefits secured for the have-nots.

I stand, in spirit, with the protesters who call for change and accountability from our governments and the captains of industry. I stand against the obvious seeking of power and influence for selfish ends. I stand against clearcutting forests and mountain top removal mining, and against the pollution of our air and water, and against insurance companies managing our healthcare, and subsidies to weapons manufacturers and to farmers of vast genetically modified monocultures. And I stand against the use of violence to solve problems, such as the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. (The list can go on and on.) On the other hand, I cannot demand that those in power give up the world, as it were, so that I might have it instead. Though my power and influence is small, I am not morally superior than they. Rather, they must give up the world because it does not belong to them.

>The Christian Nation

>

To the degree that this nation (U.S.A.) is, or has ever been, a Christian one, is the degree to which one can question such a “fact.” For to be called “Christian” is to bring along all that that name implies, evokes, and requires. But that is a very dicey proposition at best. What nation would want to be judged by the Sermon on the Mount? What nation would want to be compared to the example of Jesus? What leader would want to be evaluated by Jesus’ definition of hypocrisy? When we examine this country, its history, its foreign policies, its current events and current leaders, the facts say otherwise. Regardless of the hagiographic mythologies of this country’s creation and of its “fathers”, this is not, nor has ever been a Christian country that has lived up to that name. But from the political stump and from its pulpits this country grasps at that label as though it were some ultimate and magical brand that can whitewash any tomb. And Christians go along with the charade. Maybe it is because modern American Christianity is only a pale shadow of its Christ. Maybe we have lost sight of what Jesus taught us. Maybe most of us never really knew. I am reminded of something Wendell Berry wrote:

Despite its protests to the contrary, modern Christianity has become willy-nilly the religion of the state and the economic status quo. Because it has been so exclusively dedicated to incanting anemic souls into heaven, it has, by a kind of ignorance, been made the tool of much earthly villainy. It has, for the most part, stood silently by, while a predatory economy has ravaged the world, destroyed its natural beauty and health, divided and plundered its human communities and households. It has flown the flag and chanted the slogans of empire. It has assumed with the economists that “economic forces” automatically work for good, and has assumed with the industrialists and militarists that technology determines history. It has assumed with almost everybody that “progress” is good, that it is good to be modern and up with the times. It has admired Caesar and comforted him in his depredations and defaults. But in its de facto alliance with Caesar, Christianity connives directly in the murder of Creation. For, in these days, Caesar is no longer a mere destroyer of armies, cities, and nations. He is a contradictor of the fundamental miracle of life. A part of the normal practice of his power is his willingness to destroy the world. He prays, he says, and churches everywhere compliantly pray with him. But he is praying to a God whose works he is prepared at any moment to destroy. What could be more wicked than that, or more mad?

~ Wendell Berry, “Christianity and The Survival of Creation” (1993)

Before Constantine it took courage to be a Christian. After Constantine it took courage to be a pagan. The Roman empire became the Holy Roman Empire. Conquering by conversions is not quite the same as leading people to truth. But then, once everyone was a Christian, there arose the idea of the invisible church, that is, that group of individuals who were truly “believers” not merely playing the part. Many so-called Christians did not behave as Christians should so there was a need to, in effect, say there are two kinds of Christians, the real and the fake. This is an important distinction. However, it is easy to claim membership in the invisible church. Who is to say you are wrong? If we look for evidence it must come from the outward actions, the visible behaviors that represent the inner heart (I think of the book of James). So we look at each others actions, and what is it we should see? Consider this passage from the book of Isaiah, chapter 1, verses 16 & 17:

Wash yourselves;
make yourselves clean;
remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes;
cease to do evil,
learn to do good;
seek justice,
correct oppression;
bring justice to the fatherless,
plead the widow’s cause.

These words are directed at a certain people – the “people of God.” Many Americans today would also say these lines describe what the U.S. is all about, along with saying this is God’s country, etc. But they are misinformed. These words are part of a passage calling for repentance. They are so simple and yet they are the opposite of so much that is done in this nation’s name. Think of the genocide of native Americans, or the labor struggles and their often brutal suppression, or the struggle for civil rights. U.S. foreign policy in Latin America alone of the past 50 years is enough to be ashamed for this country. And this is a remarkably un-repentant country. A case could be made that the U.S. is the most prideful country on earth today. I am reminded of President Obama’s inaugural speech where he stated, “We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense.” We have heard the same kinds of statements from all presidents. Bush said the same kinds of things on numerous occasions. But the true Christian – the one with the eyes to see and the ears to hear – will not be surprised. Just as the religious leader thanked God he was not like other men, so goes the way of the self-righteous nation.

So, is this a Christian nation? Yes, but not of the so-called invisible church – the one trying to live out the example of its Christ in fear and trembling. That church has no nation – only a kingdom for which it waits. This is a Christian nation in the Constantinian sense. And its Christ is now the one with the sword, and the checkbook, and the influence, and the self-righteousness.

There are three problems with my statements above. First is that I am implicated along with all of you. It is easy to point fingers and criticize, but I have benefited from all the good things this country offers and I am glad I was born here. I live in what was once called the frontier – a land taken from the indigenous peoples through force, cunning, and broken promises. And yet I love living here and will continue to do so. I am grateful for the role this country has played in securing freedom, yet I also benefit from many atrocious actions it has taken in securing that freedom. In short, I eat from a morally compromised harvest. The second point is that for all its faults the U.S.A. is not significantly different in its wickedness than other countries. The scale of its influence and global impact is often more staggering than most, but its moral nature is that of others. One cannot point the finger at this country without also pointing the finger all countries. (The reverse is true as well.) But this is the country I know best, and I am confronted by its apparently pivotal role in the world – for good and for wickedness. So I am compelled to criticize. Thirdly is the fact that one cannot really speak of a unrepentant country, for a country is really only a concept, a theory with a tenuous physicality. To speak of a country in moral terms is to get us all off the hook. When we speak of a foreign policy we are speaking of real actions based on real decisions made by real people and supported by other people. A country cannot be held accountable for its actions. For a country does not act. It’s citizens, leaders, bureaucrats, politicians, workers, and captains of industry do the acting. What we see on the whole is an aggregate of actions that, when taken together, appear to be a country acting. But it is each of us, as individuals who must cease to do evil, learn to do good, seek justice, correct oppression, bring justice to the fatherless, and plead the widow’s cause. And as we come together corporately we must create institutions that reflect those same values.

Again, is this a Christian nation? Christianity did not die off in America as many predicted a hundred years ago. In fact it has flourished. And yet, if we take a broad view of Christianity today we see a wildly mixed bag of cultural shallowness, tepid convictions, ignorance, political myopia, and a laundry list of conflicting statements of faith that more or less reflect a shadow of Christ. But we also find people profoundly challenged and changed by the life and teachings of Jesus. Some of these individuals may not fit into the standard, culturally defined aesthetic of our cultural Christianity. They may not fit into the visible church. And they may not (probably cannot) fit neatly into the commonly accepted cultural role of the citizen without challenging many of it assumptions. In other words, that invisible-church Christian living out her faith will likely come into deep conflict with the prevailing winds of this country’s politics, economics, and culture. And if we use that as our working definition of a Christian nation then any nation can be (might be, probably is) a Christian nation – but you’d never know.

>Happy belated birthday Mr. C

>I missed his birthday, but it’s not too late to celebrate, or to add a cupcake to his portrait. 500 years ago on July 10th John Calvin was born.

Go ahead, make a wish old man.

>Even theologians have their favorite movies

>At the recent Transforming Theology conference a number of the attending theologians sat down in front of a video camera and answered a number of questions. The last question for each was “What is your favorite film?” Their answers are interesting and insightful. Their answers are also below.

I’m stealing these videos from over at Transforming Theology. But really they come from J. Ryan Parker’s site Pop Theology.

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5132939&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5134136&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5143247&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1

>The New Religious Landscape (with Tony Jones)

>Here are a couples on links regarding the changing landscape of Christianity in the U.S. The first is a video clip with Tony Jones speaking of the Emergent Church. The second is a recent link to Tony’s blog regarding some new statistics about religion in the U.S.

This video first aired in 2008.

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-1959894145232313198&hl=en&fs=true

From Tony’s bog: The Rise of the “Nones”

>Jesus, the event within

>

Would Jesus endorse Christianity as we know it? Would he say, “Yeah, that’s it. You got it.”? Or would he surprise us all by not fitting into our concepts of who he is? I think we all know the answer.

Since the beginning of Christianity there has been the need for reform of one kind or another of the church. The letters of Paul attest to that. Some would argue, and I would generally agree, that refocusing on Jesus as the foundation of Christianity (are not Christians followers of the Christ?) is the most direct and most powerful catalyst for change and reform. This concept interests me a great deal. I am fascinated by the idea of setting aside much of what we Christians cling to and then turning only to Jesus and, with him as our sole example, examine our lives, actions, and worship. With this in mind I give you two quotes to ponder:

A great deal would have been achieved if it were remembered today also that Christianity is obviously not some sort of world view nor a kind of idealist philosophy, but has something to do with a person called Christ. But memories can be painful, as many politicians have discovered when they wanted to revise a party program. In fact, memories can even be dangerous. Modern social criticism has again drawn our attention to this fact: not only because generations of the dead control us, have their part in determining every situation in which we are placed and to this extent man is predefined by history, but also because recollection of the past brings to the surface what is still unsettled and unfulfilled, because every society whose structures have grown rigid rightly fear the “subversive” contents of memory.

Hans Küng, On Being a Christian, 1974, p. 120

In deconstruction, one sets out in search of, or rather, one is oneself searched out or called on by whatever is unconditional, or undeconstructible, in a given order, and it is precisely in virtue of this undeconstructible x, which does not exist, which does does not exist yet, which never quite exists, that everything that does exist in that order is deconstructible. Whatever exists, whatever is present, is contingent, historical, constructed under determinate conditions—like the church or the Sabbath—and as such is inwardly disturbed by the undeconstructible, unconditional impulse that stirs within it—which for the church is the event that occurs in the name of Jesus. To “deconstruct” is on the one hand to analyze and criticize but also, on the other hand, and more importantly, to feel about for what is living and stirring within a thing, that is, feeling for the event that stirs within the deconstructible structure in order to release it, to set it free, to give it a new life, a new being, a future.

John D. Caputo, What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, 2007 p. 68

Rembrandt van Rijn, Holy Family, 1640
Oil on wood, 16 1/4 x 13 1/2″ (41 x 34 cm)
Musée du Louvre, Paris

I like Küng’s concept of the ‘”subversive” contents of memory.’ That there is something subversive in the very person and teachings of Jesus is a powerful idea. What would the church (I recognize that’s an unwieldy and overly broad term) do with Jesus today? In my more cynical moments I am inclined to believe he would be crucified again and again. Though the name of Jesus is prominent in Christian churches I doubt that name represents the true Jesus as much as one might assume. My fear is that I would be part of the mob that called for his death. My desire is that I would know the truth instead, that my life would be conformed to Jesus’ example and, if faced with the physical (living, breathing, walking, talking) Jesus, there would resonate deep within my soul an unqualified and unchangeable “YES!”

Of course, in a profound way we do have Jesus among us. Remember the words of Jesus, like in the following famous passage from Jesus speaking to his disciples:

“Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’”

“Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’”

“The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’”

To me this is kind of sneaky, in a good way. We can easily be knocked off kilter and sent spinning if we think we have Jesus pegged. What I find interesting is that the above passage always surprises me even though I have been familiar with it for decades.

How is it that Jesus is a subversive force within the church? In films like Lord, Save Us From Your Followers: Why is the Gospel of Love Dividing America?, and books like They Like Jesus but Not the Church: Insights from Emerging Generations we find that most people have a fondness for Jesus, though many express a dislike for Christians or Christianity or organized religion in general (most especially if it’s Christian). This makes sense to me, but I know there is a difference between a “Jesus is my homeboy” approach and a “Jesus is my lord” approach. I understand the dichotomy, but I also know that those outside the church will just as likely have wrong ideas about Jesus as those within.

If Jesus is subversive then he must challenge the very foundations of the “truths” we cling to, of that with which we are comfortable, of what we claim even in his name. If Jesus is a comfortable idea then we have missed who he is. The irony of modern evangelization is that to begin with Jesus straight away may be the path of least resistance, and yet many Christians may mean something entirely wrongheaded when using that name. This I cannot say for sure, but my intuition says it must be likely.

Rembrandt van Rijn, The raising of Lazarus, c. 1630
Oil on panel96.2 x 81.5 cm
Los Angeles County Museum of Art

Caputo argues for Jesus as a kind of deconstructing force within the church. When I set Jesus and the church side by side in my mind and ponder the connection, I cannot think of a better concept than deconstruction with which to understand the force of Christ amongst our religious structures. Caputo sees Jesus as “the event” within the word Christianity. (I know I am not doing the depth of his argument justice.) The idea of “the event” he takes from the French philosopher Jacques Derrida. Think of the word “democracy.” There are democracies and then there is democracy the ideal (not in a Platonic sense, but in a Derridian sense). That ideal calls to us when we think about, speak of, or participate in doing democracy. We don’t ever see the ideal, but we know it is there. Democracy the ideal is the event within the word Democracy. Think of Jefferson Smith (Jimmy Stewart) in the film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. He is a kind of force, a man who quotes Lincoln and Washington while entering the cynical world of real politik. In the end he becomes a kind of savior-like figure who sacrifices his life for what he knows to be true. Jesus, who’s name is spoken countless times in churches around the world is like Mr. Smith. But rather than just speaking of the truth, he is the truth, he is the image of God, he is the event within the word Christianity.*

Rembrandt van Rijn, Descent from the Cross, 1634
Oil on canvas, 62 x 46 in. (158 x 117 cm)
Hermitage, St. Petersburg

What I fear is that I live my whole life as a “good Christian” only to one day confront the actual event (Jesus) within this thing (Christianity) I am doing, and to be told “I never knew you.” The fact is I confront the event every day. The question that I must answer is to what am I finally committed, Christianity or the event within.

Back to my original questions. I don’t think Jesus would give our organized versions of Christianity the thumbs up, though I don’t think he would give the thumbs down to all of it. I do think, however, that we would all be surprised by his presence beyond reasons of “wow, he exists!”. I think he would challenge us deeply in ways that get at those very things that we use to convince ourselves of our own wisdom. I think those individuals and groups deeply embedded within the church would have trouble with Jesus on many levels. And I’m not referring to the obvious examples of those who claim Christianity but spew hatred. I am referring to the good, ordinary, run-of-the-mill Christians who try to live good lives and get along with others. They would have trouble with Jesus as much as anybody. But I also think those outside the church, who say they like Jesus but not Christians, would also have trouble with Jesus. Jesus hung around with sinners but he was not their homeboy. He was not their revolutionary either. He is God’s revolutionary, whatever that means – which is something we could spend the rest of our lives figuring out.

* This is one of the reasons I don’t like seeing a U.S. flag prominently displayed in a church. The event within democracy is not the same event as that within Christianity. The event within the U.S. flag is something closer to patriotism than democracy, and it is miles from Christ. With our tendency to focus on Christianity rather than the true Christ already in play, why jeopardize our profound and constantly reforming need for truth that much more with connecting faith to patriotism?

>Walter Wink on Nonviolence for the Violent

>I knew next to nothing about Walter Wink until recently. Now I have become a fan.

Very Brief Thoughts on Religion and the Art of Appropriation: Or How the Post-Christendom Church Mirrors the Impulse of Postmodern Art

Are we not postmodern?

be, by Barbara Kruger

My brain often works best by comparison. In this post I want to briefly compare the postmodern impulse in art making and the post-Christendom worship of the emergent/emerging¹ church. I fully admit my ideas are not fully baked, and yet the process of putting them forth might teach me a thing or two.

Somewhere in the transition from the 1960s to the late 1970s Art reached its end. The end was prefigured by such notables as Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol, among others. The end of art wasn’t really about the end of art, but about the end of a series of historical/cultural problems and intuitions tackled largely in succession since the Renaissance. What happened over time was a decline in interest in those issues as they either were solved (“solved” is a rather subjective term with regards to art) or they were found no longer relevant. The world changed and so did the world of art.

But art never stops. Art will emerge as long as humans exist.

Hymn, by Damien Hirst, 2000

What happened (one thing that happened) was a new impulse, that of appropriation. This impulse was already coursing through the veins of art; Picasso appropriated, Johns and Warhol appropriated, and many others. But with postmodern art artistic action began to twist free from the weight of art history and the art’s weighty lineage. Art and art history began to work more and more independently from each other. Of course that independence wasn’t complete, but art makers felt that art had become fundamentally divorced from meta-narratives. Now the appropriation of anything and everything was possible – even appropriation of that weighty lineage. In this sense art finally became art.

Portable War Memorial, by Ed Kienholz, 1968

What is meant by appropriation?

To appropriate something involves taking possession of it. In the visual arts, the term appropriation often refers to the use of borrowed elements in the creation of new work. The borrowed elements may include images, forms or styles from art history or from popular culture, or materials and techniques from non-art contexts. Since the 1980s the term has also referred more specifically to quoting the work of another artist to create a new work. The new work does not actually alter the original per se; the new work uses the original to create a new work. In most cases the original remains accessible as the original, without change.²

Key here is that last part. The “original remains accessible as the original, without change.” This is a kind of quoting without quoting; a kind of objective theft for subjective purposes. One could say it’s a synthesis, something new from something old that becomes new merely through the act of appropriation. In this way an old work of art may become a new work of art fully within a new context – and seen as a new work of art because of new ownership as it were. But this should be expected, for “there is nothing outside the text” as Jacques Derrida once said.³

After Walker Evans 2, by Sherrie Levine (1981).

Keeping this in mind I want to shift gears a bit.

Christianity has gone through (and is going through) similar changes. Christianity is one of the great meta-narratives in world history. However, many Christians (some of whom prefer the term Christ followers) have begun to twist free of their traditional moorings. They see their faith and Christianity as two different entities. Faith is no longer strictly about being a member of a particular group with its set of proscribed codes, mores, or rituals. The focus has shifted more toward Jesus and away from the historical church. Jesus has become the deconstruction force, deconstructing Christianity.

Jesus has a power lunch with the money changers?
(Why I put this picture in here I don’t know.)

If faith is a passionate, existential belief in the lordship of Jesus, then Christianity as an external religious set of practices can be other, is other. This otherness allows the multiplicity of historical and cultural expressions of Christianity to be appropriated as the “believer” sees fit. One is no longer bound by a tradition, rather by faith. Christian practices and disciplines from any branch of the church and any time period can be appropriated by the Christ follower on an as needed basis. Logically, then, practices from non-Christian sources might be appropriated as well. If being a Christ follower is no longer about religion (or being religious), then religion, as a set of optional practices and disciplines, becomes a non-threat.

More and more Christians today are seeking old, and very old, religious practices – going back to the historical church and gleaning. I assume the idea is that through the course of the modern era we may have lost some good things. I assume this is more true for Protestants than Catholics or Orthodox. The question on the table is whether these practices are meaningful and might they negatively influence one’s faith – a real fear for many Protestant apologists. I don’t have an answer for that at this time. I am both curious and wary, and certainly interested.

Christ followers walk a labyrinth

Why does this interest me? I came to a deep re-evaluation of my faith as an undergraduate (more than 20 years ago). I was an art history major, a film studies major, and part of a college ministry team in a large Baptist church. I began to have too many conflicts between my faith (which I held to be true) and the Christian culture in which I was immersed. My Christianity was deconstructing, but only because my faith was stronger. I began to see that the outward forms were of little consequence compared to my pursuit of truth and my beliefs. Interestingly art played a big part in this. Art is what helped me realize the freedom that resides at the center of the story of Jesus. I saw artmaking, which is such a natural human thing to do, chafing under the weight of Art’s meta-narrative. Breaking free did not destroy artmaking, in fact artmaking flourished. Breaking free merely lowered the dominance of the meta-narrative a few notches. I think, similarly, I knew intuitively my faith could handle some freedom.

And so I left that Christian culture behind for a while. I took a breather. But I did not leave Christ behind. In fact my faith became stronger, my theology more grounded, and my hope deeper. Now I am at the fringes of that culture again and wondering.

Modern Christ followers, many of whom are part of what is sometimes called the emerging church, are appropriating many religious practices – trying them out as it where – in much the same way that artmakers are appropriating many things from both “within” and “without” the art world. And just like with artmaking, if one’s faith is authentic then one has great freedom in one’s practices.

Image by Luke Flowers from this article

Phyllis Tickle has recently articulated the idea that the emerging church is really part of a wholesale worldwide emerging, religious and otherwise. She has also likened the shifting and changes in Christianity to be like a great rummage sale, where people sift through what is there, what has come before, what others have done, to find what they need and what they didn’t know they needed. According to Tickle these rummage sales tend to occur within Christianity about every 500 years or so. The current rummaging includes searching for spiritual practices that have been lost, long unused, or never before used in the current context(s). These practices include anything from how we “do” church, to how we pray and fellowship, to classic disiplines like solitude, silence, fasting, frugality, chastity, sacrifice, study, worship, celebration, service, confession, and submission. Most of these practices were never truly promoted or explored in my Christian upbringing, and they are large foreign concepts to a consumeristic culture.

I am not yet sold on the idea of spiritual disciplines. I am still inclined to think of a truly spiritual person as being one in whom the Spirit of God is at work – which I see as a one way street: God invading a person’s life. And I am inclined to think that one cannot move or change one’s spirituality through any action unless God initiates and completes the work. Yet, just as with all issues of God’s sovereignty and human action (and choice) there is what we know of God and what we actually experience every day. With that in view I can see spiritual disciplines as offering tremendous encouragement and I find myself increasingly curious about exploring disciplines. I also see them as being very much a matter of personal choice. Regardless, the re-emergence of disciplines and practices is evidence of a church extending beyond the modernist model of Christianity, which I see as generally positive.

1. I am purposely conflating these two terms, though many would seek to separate them, because under the umbrella of this particular topic one finds the comparison still holds true.

2. “Appropriation (art).” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. 3 Sep 2008, 15:40 UTC. 17 Sep 2008

3. I believe that quote is found in Of Grammatology.

>Happy Birthday Elie Wiesel

>

I have not lost faith in God. I have moments of anger and protest. Sometimes I’ve been closer to him for that reason.

~ Elie Wiesel

If I had to make a top ten list of those events of the 20th century most critical to know and remember, the Holocaust would be in the top three. Wiesel survived the Holocaust, I suppose, as well as anyone could. His memoir Night is brilliant and staggering.

I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

~ Elie Wiesel

>emerging church: call it what you will

>I mentioned in an earlier post that I’m looking into the phenomena of the emerging church, and its related emergent aspects. Recently, however, there is a slight trending away from those terms. Dan Kimball at Vintage Faith writes about his recent thoughts on how the terms have changed over the years and what that means for him. He cites three other articles/blog posts that also deal with the continued relevance of “emerging/emergent.”

Of course, the realities that underly these terms are still there, though they have been changing, and will continue to do so. Maybe “emerging” and “emergent” will wane in their cultural currency, but we are still living in a post-modern (and possibly post-Christendom) world in which the need to re-examine what it means to be a Christian is critically relevant. One thing to consider, as well, is the relative newness of those terms to much of Christianity. That alone will keep the terms alive for a while, even if their progenitors have moved elsewhere.

As for me, my study has just begun. In fact, I feel like I am doing a lot of catching up. On the other hand, it occurred to me the other day that I began my own “emerging” process back around 1986 when I began to have serious issues with my church’s philosophy of ministry and approach to both culture and theology/doctrine. And really my searching began back in the 1970s as I read authors like C. S. Lewis and Francis Schaeffer in my adolescent grasping for something more than what I was getting at church. A lot of water has gone under the bridge (a story I might relate here sometime), and I’m still sorting it out.

Books I am reading related to the topic:
A New Kind of Christian, by Brian McLaren
The Future of Religion, by Richard Rorty & Gianni Vattimo, ed. Santiago Zabala

Books I’m glancing at:
Spiritual Direction, by Henri Nouwen
Dialogue with Nietzsche, by Gianni Vattimo
Basic Writings, by Martin Heidegger

And I have on order a few more books. I welcome any suggestions.