Book Blurbs

Just so you don’t think I limit my mental stimulation strictly to film watching and reviewing, I have decided to favor you with a few book blurbs this month. Not only will this provide you with something to read while you are waiting for your movie to download, but since I only read books I am sure I will like (I may have two hours to kill on a less than stellar performance by Jennifer Aniston but no way am I spending several days on bad book) these comments will tend to be more on the positive side than my film critiques. That is not to say I am above reading books of poor quality. Rather, I simply refuse to read those that are sub-par in their genre. For example: I love a little mystery now and then, but I hate a badly written mystery. It’s like going to McDonald’s for a McPlastic Cone when you could just as easily go to Pizza King—our local source for frozen yumminess—and getting a scoop or two of divinely crafted dairy. Neither one is good for you, but if you are going to eat something bad it might as well be good quality bad, right? Still I don’t often confess my penchant for pulp fiction, especially given the crowd my spouse tends to attract. So on a recent dinner date with Jim’s fellow philosophers and their wives I was relieved to have been reading something more substantive.

Inspired by a recent sermon from our excellent pastor, I determined that I should read more non-fiction. I think Pastor Bob meant for us to read more non-fiction of the Christian variety, but not wanting to cause too great a shock to my system, I decided to start off with Tom Wolfe, a writer of both non-fiction and fiction so he seemed like a good fit. Plus, the man is too dapper for words. Anyhow, I choose Hooking Up, read what I assumed to be the first chapter and then began plowing through chapter two. I was a bit confused as to how the first chapter on the over-sexualization of American youth related to the second which appeared to be a history of the development of the micro-chip but the man’s a genius, right? I was sure there was a brilliant connection coming my way, though I did mention my mystification to our dear friends in the department. I hadn’t told Jim of my recent resolution and later that night he asked me how I was enjoying Wolfe’s collection of essays. Say what? Suddenly the incongruity of Wolfe’s topics became crystal clear. So much for appearing well-rounded.

Don’t you just love when you are reading something in an attempt to appear, or better yet, actually be more intellectually well-rounded and the attempt blows up in your face? Perhaps this never happens to you because either (a) you really are intellectually well-rounded therefore you don’t have to pretend to be or (b) you know better than to try to fake it. Sadly, I am neither (a) nor (b); thus I made an absolute idiot out of myself which probably won’t come as a complete surprise to many of you.

Despite this setback, I am still going forth in my pursuit of knowledge. I’ll just make sure I first read the book summary on Amazon this time. And since I can’t see, read or hear anything I consider interesting without sharing it with others ad nauseum, I plan to share the fruit of my labors with you. So here is your first fruit: Tom Wolfe’s collection of essays Hooking Up is excellent. I must confess to having only read the first three or four essays but they are breathtakingly balanced between informative and entertaining. He somehow spins the history of the microprocessor into a page turner, full of insight and intimation, without beating you over the head with arguments or forcing you into a corner until you agree with him. I also like that it is a collection of essays (now that I have that part figured out). Somehow I feel less pressure to read because I know I only have to reach the end of the essay (rather than plowing through 400 pages) to see how things turn out.

On a lighter note, I would also like to recommend my book club’s selection for this month—Island of Saints by Andy Andrews. Definite beach reading, but good beach reading. A few scenes were a bit forced, but overall worth the bits of observer discomfort. I learned some things regarding WWII and have quoted Andrews’ points regarding forgiveness more than once.

Blog Interview and Book Reviews About The Making of an Atheist

Several blogs have recently featured reviews or interviews with me about my book, The Making of an Atheist, including the blog of the Evangelical Philosophical SocietyCloud of Witnesses and Exo Tays Parembolays

So far, most responses to the book have been enthusiastically positive, though there have been some negative comments (from folks who have yet to read the book!), suggesting that I commit an ad hominem fallacy in claiming that atheism results from self-deception and immorality.  This would be true if the point of my book was to argue that atheism is false.  That’s not the book’s aim at all.  Rather, my purpose is to give an explanatory accountof the origins of atheistic belief.  That’s quite a different matter, and my account actually parallels the attempts of such atheists as Feuerbach and Freud to explain theistic belief.  Atheists typically applaud their accounts and aren’t inclined to accuse them of ad hominem reasoning.  Perhaps its too much to expect that they would show me the same courtesy.

Wise Stewards: A Book Review

I have read my share of books about family and parenting over the years.  Some have been worth my while; others have not.  But even the best of the ones I’ve read left me unsatisfied, mainly because they failed to probe foundational moral issues related to parenting and family life.  So it was especially satisfying to read Michael Austin’s Wise Stewards (Kregel, 2009) a splendid treatment of, as the subtitle says, the philosophical foundations of Christian parenting.  Not only does Austin explore the moral dimensions of parenting, but he does so in a way that is practical, even-handed, and both philosophically and biblically informed.

Early in his study Austin considers some foundational questions regarding the essence of parenthood itself.  What is it that establishes the parental tie to a child?  Austin discusses several lines of response to this question—the biological account, the causal account, and the social construct account.  He considers the strengths and weaknesses of each approach, introducing readers to some leading proponents of each along the way.  Wisely, Austin refuses to throw his lot in entirely with any of these views but rather acknowledges the insights of all three as well as their weaknesses.  In the end, he emphasizes the moral-social dimension of parenthood and the critical role of stewardship that mothers and fathers must play in the lives of their children:  “The aspects of parenthood that have primary value include helping children to become flourishing individuals within a loving parent-child relationship” (43).

With regard to the parental role, there is a wide variety of perspectives among philosophers, from Aristotle’s ownership view to the more contemporary child liberation movement.  Austin argues that a Christian view of the matter would fall somewhere between these extremes, affirming both the parents’ duty to guide and direct their children while also recognizing that parents do not own their children.  This balanced perspective is captured in the concept of stewardship.  A steward is someone who cares for something that belongs to someone else.  They exercise a certain authority, but only because it has been granted to them by another.  This is precisely the situation with parents, Austin notes:  “Parents are responsible for managing what God entrusts to them—the lives of their children.  The authority is temporary, as they must acknowledge that their children are ultimately God’s” (68).  This is a simple point and one with which few Christians would disagree.  But the implications are significant for an ethic of parenting, as Austin demonstrates throughout the book.

Like any significant human endeavor, parenting has a telos—an end, purpose or goal.  And, as Austin observes, the telos of Christian parenting is perhaps best captured by the Hebrew term shalom.  The concept suggests peace, wholeness, harmony, and integrity.  As parents, we should strive to raise our children to embody shalom.  This means we should train them to be virtuous people, both intellectually and morally.  In the book’s fourth chapter Austin discusses several “key virtues for Christian families,” which include humility, forgiveness, patience, compassion, and frugality, as well as the so-called (by Aquinas) theological virtues of faith, hope and love.

Austin’s illuminating, not to mention motivational, discussion of virtue lays the perfect foundation for his extensive discussion of practical parenting issues in chapter five.  He tackles such thorny matters as child discipline, sports involvement, educational approaches, and the challenges of consumerism.  With each issue, Austin manages to be informative and balanced, acknowledging the latitude Christian parents enjoy in managing their households and rearing their children, while also reaffirming the importance of making all of one’s parenting choices in light of the moral formation of their children and the end-in-view of shalom.

The final chapter of Wise Stewards explores even more controversial issues, specifically those related to reproductive technologies.  Here, as elsewhere in the book, Austin brings a carefully integrated theological and philosophical analysis, resulting in wise and tempered counsel on everything from invitro fertilization to gene therapy to anonymous gamete donation.

At a time when the moral challenges to faithful Christian living are greater than ever, the need for Christian ethical discussions that are smart and principled, yet also winsome and compassionate, could not be greater.  Refreshingly, Mike Austin’s Wise Stewards is all of these things and provides a welcome alternative to contemporary Christian parenting books that  amount to “how to” manuals.  While many current parenting texts are essentially (not so well) disguised applications of particular psychological theories where moral-theological themes and values are underdeveloped at best, Austin’s Wise Stewards offers a much-needed corrective.  He reminds us that parenting is not only a deeply moral-spiritual endeavor, but one of the most important endeavors of all.

The Making of an Atheist

As you might have noticed on the sidebar, my latest book, The Making of an Atheist, has just been released.  In the book I discuss the moral-psychological roots of atheism, showing how disbelief in God is not the result of an intellectual assessment of evidence but rather the consequence of willful suppression of the truth about God.  Essentially, I turn the tables on Richard Dawkins and his ilk, as I argue that it is not theists but atheists who are delusional.  You can find out more about the book here.

I was recently interviewed about the book on Prime Time America.  The interview is in two 10-minute parts.  Here are links to the first and second parts of the interview.

The Best and Worst of 2009

It’s been another exciting year, and we want to thank you all for reading and, if applicable, posting comments on our blog.  Once again, we would like to close out the year with summary remarks about good and bad stuff related to film, music, books, politics, and family. 

Best Film Experiences:

  • Jim:  Slumdog Millionaire, Inglourious Basterds, and The Blind Side. Three very different films with one thing in common: a compelling story.  See my March 2 post for extended comments on Slumdog, and our joint review of Inglourious Basterds in our October 29 post.  As for The Blind Side, I confess that I went to see it begrudgingly, figuring it would subject me to two hours of eye-rolling melodrama.  On the contrary, this simple but powerful film had me in tears the entire evening.  And I’m no sentimentalist…
  • Amy:  Jim chose the ones you’ve heard of, so here are a few older ones you might not have seen: 1927 Academy Award winning Sunrise.  I am not a big fan of silent films but this one is amazing, a perfect movie. Another oldie but goodie is The Red Shoes.  Finally, Murder!  I am slowly working my way through all the works of Hitchcock and this was one I marked off the list this year.  It’s classic Hitchcock, which is to say, suspense with heart and soul.  Finally, this one isn’t an oldie, but since I spend a great deal of time watching children’s films I will give a shout out to my friends Charlie and Lola.

Worst Film Experiences: 

  • Jim:  Little Children—Three of my pet peeves in contemporary Hollywood films are:  1) stilted dialogue, 2) gratuitous sex scenes, and 3) plotlines that encourage viewers to root for a character to commit adultery.  Well, this movie features all three of these vices.  Some thematic originality or insight into truth might have helped to redeem the film despite these flaws.  But, alas, this one was disappointing down to the last, contrived and implausible, scene.
  • Amy:  The Reader, Japanese Story, and Summertime are three that standout in their badness.  There are bad movies which are flawed in one way or another (poor writing, bad acting, etc.) and then there are movies that are faulty on a deeper level; like people who are really smart that you enjoy being with as long as you don’t think about what they are actually saying.  These films would fall into the latter category.

Best Musical Experiences of the Year: 

  • Jim:  Wilco (The Album).  Jeff Tweedy & Co. have been making great music since the mid-90s, and their latest effort is more of the same.  2009 is also the year that I discovered the Kings of Leon.  Thanks to Jason Fortner for his insistent introduction to the beauty of the Followill brothers’ musical world.
  • Amy:  It isn’t a specific album but I loved my Christmas music this year. One of my faves included Sufjan Stevens Songs for Christmas, “What Child is This” by Andrea Bocelli, and Mary J. Blige and Emmylou Harris’ Light of the Stable.  They all strike the chords of awe, sadness, and rejoicing that I love about the season.

Favorite Songs of the Year:

  • Jim:  “Breathe” by U2.  This song slaps you in the face, spins you in circles, then sits you down and caresses you into ecstasy.  What begins as an almost tuneless rapid-fire narrative resolves into one of the most melodically satisfying songs in the U2 repertoire.  Check out that entrancing combo of cello and guitar as well as the memorable lyrical images—e.g., “people born of sound” wearing songs “like a crown” and “the roar that lies on the other side of silence.”  Oh yeah.
  • Amy:  See my comments above about Christmas songs.

Jim’s Favorite Sports Moment of the Year:  The season-long dominance of the Saints and Colts (two of my favorite teams), both of whom earned home field advantage throughout the NFL playoffs.  I’m not naïve enough to think both will make it to the Super Bowl (#1 seeds almost never meet in the championship).  But I’m hopeful that one of them will play on Super Sunday.

Jim’s Most Disappointing Sports Moment of the Year:  The Detroit Tigers’ squandering their division lead on the last day of regular season.  It wasn’t so much a moment as a week-long, fated collapse.  Ugh.

Amy’s Best Eating Experience of the Year:  New Orleans’ restaurant Mona Lisa’s eggplant parmesan.  Spicy marinara sauce, crispy eggplant in a creative setting with friendly folks.  And the service is great—at the Mona Lisa everyone is treated like a regular.

Amy’s Worst Eating Experience of the Year:  “Zucchini and Basil Soup.”  In an attempt to cleanse our bodies of toxins, Jim and I did a cleanse diet which excluded all cheese, eggs, wheat, soda, and basically anything you might enjoy eating.  The diet was actually not that bad, but this cold “soup” was definitely the low point.

Most and Least Satisfying Reads of the Year:

  • Jim:  Antony Flew’s There is a God, in which the former atheist chronicles his journey to belief in God and masterfully summarizes the three main considerations which prompted him to embrace theism.  I’ve also greatly enjoyed the Arts and Letters Daily blog.  My least satisfying read was Kwame Appiah’s Cosmopolitanism—an attempt to salvage shared moral values while affirming cultural relativism.  I kept waiting for an argument, but it never came.  And until the very end I hoped Appiah would rescue his project from incoherence.  My hopes were never realized.
  • Amy:  Elizabeth Gaskell’s Ruth, Charles Dickens’ Little Dorrit and Same Kind of Different as Me were all inspiring.  They just don’t write them like that anymore.  I didn’t like The Girls from Ames.  Also, on three separate occasions, I began reading The Shack, but I couldn’t complete it.  Bad theology and even worse writing.

Political High Point of the Year:  Our hopeful sides want to celebrate the seemingly grass roots movement afoot in our country against government expansion and irresponsibility.  But our cynical sides tell us that it’s all just more talk that will, in the end, be undermined by profiteering.

Political Low Point of the Year:  The revelation that (now former) Green Czar Van Jones was a Marxist…or perhaps the revelation that (now former) White House communications director Anita Dunn was a Marxist sympathizer.  Or (speaking of Marxism?) perhaps the real low point was the health care bill.

Most Outrageous News Events of the Year:  The balloon boy hoax (what can you expect from a couple who would name their kid “Falcon”?) and Bernie Madoff (an appropriate surname, until the Ponzi schemer artist got busted) and climategate (when scientists feel they have to fudge numbers, this should give pause to even the most dogmatic believers in their theory).  Ah, the hits just keep on coming, don’t they?

Our Kids’ Most Memorable Statements of the Year:

Bailey:  “I think cussing is just adults’ way of whining.” 

Sam:  “Dad, just try to name a breakfast cereal I don’t like.”

Maggie:  “I think the wind is God whispering ‘I love you.’”

Andrew:  “I never want to get married, ‘cuz you have to kiss someone every day.”

Most Satisfying Shared Experiences of the Year: 

  • Jim:  Walking around the French Quarter together at the ETS conference in November.  Also, our August vacation in Houston with the incomparable Newcomb family. 
  • Amy:  Our various bike rides together as a family; also, seeing two of our kids become communicant members of our church and sharing the communion experience with them.

New Year’s Resolutions:

  • Jim:  To get to bed before midnight more than half of the time
  • Amy: To put Ranch Pringles behind me once and for all

Happy 2010 everyone!  And happy new decade as well!!

Don’t Judge the Candy by the Wrapper

Halloween has come and gone and all the kids’ weeks of planning out their costumes have been rewarded with a large bowl of candy, filled to overflowing and sitting in our pantry. I have noticed that there is a distinct hierarchy among these confectionary treats, with the miniature candy bars reigning over the noble class of Starbursts and gummy snacks, which in turn lord it over the bottom rung of suckers and Tootsie Rolls. As an act of compassion, I often rescue a downtrodden Reese’s Cup and show it the respect it deserves. Whether it is a part of our Imago Dei desiring order or our fleshly nature wanting to value one thing at the expense of another, it does seem ubiquitous in human experience. Of course, as we get older, our criteria for discrimination move beyond candy wrappers and sugar content and focus more on skin color and socio-economic status. Not that most of us would actually say, “Pardon me but I felt compelled to tell you that I am choosing not to be your friend and that this choice is based primarily on your financial bracket and the color of your skin.” But we might as well, as we segregate ourselves into neatly divided neighborhoods and social groups.

51tKABH4JXL._SL500_AA240_This past week I finished reading a book about the power that is unleashed when we choose to look past our differences and extend the hand of friendship to those with whom we seem to have nothing in common. Same Kind of Different as Me by Ron Hall and Denver Moore is one of the most moving and honest books I have read in a long time. A chronicle of how a homeless black man from the deep South becomes friends with an international art dealer, Hall and Moore tell their story with refreshing honesty and humility. I don’t want to say anything else about the book other than that you should read it.

Too often in life, we look at people like they are a piece of candy in the big bowl of humanity. As we pick and choose our friends and associates, we tend to go for the familiar and comfortable. What I like about Same Kind of Different as Me is that it doesn’t present the idea of making friendships across economic and racial divides as some sort of social experiment. It doesn’t put broccoli in the bowl and say “Now kids, we know it isn’t pleasant but hold your nose, chew and swallow.” Rather it is more like chocolate-covered broccoli, if you will. Moore’s and Hall’s relationship, though a great source of joy and comfort for them both, stretches them as well. To use a different analogy, a spoon full of sugar may help the medicine go down but that doesn’t mean you don’t taste the medicine. In the same way, at times, both men act out a sense of what they think is right even if their lesser instincts tell them to duck and cover. The depth of their relationship is a result of both the organic connection that develops over time and the conscious decisions they make along the way. One of my favorite parts of the book is when, speaking of Moore, Hall simply says “I had come to consider him my brother.” Moore expresses his commitment and love in acts of great compassion and devotion which I am sure will move you deeply.

So when you are picking through the treat bowl this post-Halloween season, don’t just look to the familiar metaphoric Twix bar. Give the fruity tootsie roll a try. You just might find, as Hall and Moore did, a new and unexpected source of great and lasting joy.

Book Review: nuChristian

I recently reviewed David Kinnaman’s UnChristian (see my September 7 post), which I found to be enlightening as well as misleading.  This week an interesting response to Kinnaman’s book hits the shelves: Russell Rathbun’s nuChristian (Judson Press).  Rathbun is an emergent pastor at the House of Mercy in St. Paul, Minnesota.  He is doing a blog tour and asked if he could make a stop here at Wisdom and Folly, so I’ve included below a short conversation.  But, first, a quick summary of the book…

NuChristianRGBIn nuChristian Rathbun aims to inspire a redemptive response to the grim statistics that Kinnaman discusses in UnChristian.  For the most part, Rathbun accepts the charges leveled against Christians by “outsiders,” as Kinnaman dubs unbelievers.  Yes, we are often hypocritical, judgmental, homophobic, and more concerned with making converts than loving people.  And in response to this we should seek to be open and honest about these failings, to be more authentic in our relationships with others, and to be more welcoming toward others, regardless of our differences.  Above all, we should seek the transforming love of God rather than an impossibly high standard of moral perfection.  To take such an approach, says Rathbun, is what it means to be a “nuChristian.”

Rathbun does, however, reject some of the charges in Kinnaman’s surveys.  For example, in regards to the notion that Christians are sheltered, Rathbun rightly finds the idea preposterous.  Given the media saturation of all Westerners, through television, Hollywood films, and the internet, Rathbun asks, “how could anyone remain sheltered from the world?” (62).  At the same time, he observes, too many churches make superficial efforts at being “culturally relevant,” only to reveal their ignorance about culture.  Here Rathbun makes an insightful distinction between cultural relevance and cultural literacy.  Even if one can achieve the former, this far from guarantees the latter.

Rathbun also challenges the claim that Christians are too involved in politics.  On the contrary, he says, “it seems to me that the problem isn’t that Christians are too political; it may be that they’re not political enough.  The Christian political spokespeople who make the most noise and have received the most media coverage are not engaged in true politics, but in incendiary ideological rhetoric” (72).  Well put.  If only we could hear more from the likes of Marvin Olasky, Jean Bethke Elshtain, and Jay Budziszewksi, then outsiders might clamor for more, not less, Christian political input.

Finally, I especially appreciated Rathbun’s take on evangelism.  As he puts it, “We are not called to save people; we are called to love people.  You don’t love people by trying to sell them something or convince them of something….  Love does not have an ulterior motive” (40).  And elsewhere, he comments on the Great Commission in Matthew 28, saying “Making disciples sounds a lot more like the process of loving people, serving people, being with people, and teaching them…than it does getting someone to make a verbal commitment…regarding the eternal state of his or her soul” (41).

As is always the case when I read emergent stuff, I found myself disagreeing with some of aspects of nuChristian as well.  However, rather than simply state my criticisms here, I decided to give the author an opportunity to respond to my critical points, which I offered to Rathbun as challenges in our conversation below.  As you’ll see, his responses are thoughtful and gracious.

Spiegel: You say “a nuChristian does not seek moral or ethical perfection any more than he seeks to love perfectly of his own accord” (p. xi).  So how does this square with Jesus’ admonition to “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt. 5:48) as well as many other biblical passages which so strongly emphasize moral sanctification (cf. 1 Cor. 9:24-27 and 1 Tim. 4:7-8)?

Rathbun: I think it is a good point.  The context of that verse in Matthew is that Jesus is telling them to love their enemies and then goes on to tell them not to practice their righteousness in public like the Pharisees.  Are we supposed to do that on our own?  I don’t have the ability.

Spiegel: In chapter two you propose looking at Scripture “not as a book of answers, but as a book of really good questions” (p. 18).  While this is an interesting angle of approach, don’t you commit the (rather modern) fallacy of false dichotomy in suggesting that we must take one of these two approaches (as opposed to seeing the Bible in neither of these ways but rather, say, as a collection of literary genres in which God’s truth is made known in a variety of ways)?  Or, to challenge you in another way, isn’t the notion that the Bible is a book of questions just as reductionist as the “answer book” approach (and for this reason just as problematic)?

Rathbun: Yes, it is.  You are right.

Spiegel: Having written a book on the subject of hypocrisy, I was especially interested to read chapter 3 of nuChristian, in which you deal with this topic.  I appreciated many of your points and insights.  However, I was concerned that you miscategorized Peter’s sin of denying Christ as hypocrisy (cf. p. 33).  It seems to me (as I claim  in my book) that Peter’s problem is actually moral weakness rather than hypocrisy.  The difference is that a hypocrite intends to deceive others rather than to do the good, while someone who is morally weak intends to do the good but succumbs to temptation because of a weak will.  What do you think about this?

Rathbun: I haven’t read your book, but it sounds interesting.  One can define a word in many different ways.  Of course words have different shades of meaning and a writer or a thinker or a preacher emphasizes different shades to explore a particular issue in a particular way.  I was exploring the idea that most people don’t actually try to deceive others but are unclear about an issue themselves.  I think we act out of self-interest and lack of self awareness.  What is moral weakness?  We all give in to temptation because of a weak will.  I don’t know if I even believe in the notion that we have a will that can be strong or believe that if we could have a strong will that would be a good thing.  God is weak, continually goes back on his commitment to justice and what is morally right by not punishing humanity for our transgressions.  God destroys the world by flood because of humanity’s wickedness.  Then when humanity continues to be wicked after that, God basically says, “Well, I don’t want to destroy them, even if they continue to act wickedly”  We might think of that as giving in, lack of consistent consequences, maybe even moral weakness.  Of course we are not God and my particular take on the subject is just one.

Spiegel: In chapter five you discuss judgmentalism and emphasize that as Christians we should not judge others, that judging is the “opposite of love,” etc.  But there are two senses of judgment:  1) judgment as condemnation (cf. Luke 6:37) and 2) judgment as discernment.  The former is inappropriate, while the latter is essential to the moral life, as is evident in Paul’s admonition to judge others in the church in such passages as 1 Cor. 5:3, 12; 1 Cor. 6:2-5.  Shouldn’t this be borne in mind when we consider that “outsiders” often criticize Christians for being judgmental?  Perhaps they are sometimes judging us (in the sense of condemnation) for simply using good judgment (in the sense of discernment)!

Rathbun: I personally don’t have the capacity to judge people without acting self interestedly.  I am judgmental and I lack discernment.  Also, I say there are many other things to work out in our own faith before we get to discerning the actions of others.

Hodgepodge #2

Reflections by Jim of different sorts—on music, nature, books, and sports

In the last few weeks I have attended two excellent concerts.  On September 12 I saw U2 in Chicago, as they commenced their 360° tour—a predictably fine show by the beloved Irish foursome. This was my fifth time to see them live, and while falling short of the magic of the Joshua Tree tour (what could live up to that?), they remain the greatest live band on the planet.  Also, last week I attended my first Kings of Leon show—at the Verizon Center in Noblesville, Indiana.  Lead singer Caleb Followill said it was the biggest crowd they’d ever played for.  Indeed, it was a sprawling sea of humanity, half of us slip-sliding in the muddy lawn area.  K.O.L. played a strong 20-song set, living up to their reputation as the heir-apparent to U2’s throne.  We’ll see about that.

250px-Orb_weaver_black_bckgrnd03_cropLast week Amy and I were back in Chicago, this time for her best friend’s wedding.  We stayed high atop the downtown Holiday Inn overlooking the Chicago River.  Just outside our 17th story window an Orb Weaver spider (Araneidae family) was perched in the middle of a giant web, which we measured at 3 x 2.5 feet.  Judging by the spider’s bulky appearance, s/he had managed to catch plenty of bugs way up there.  Early the next morning I marveled at the massive buildings in downtown Chicago.  In doing so, I looked through that Orb Weaver’s giant web, and then it struck me.  Both were magnificent feats of engineering, and they shared some of the same structural features: footings, girders, and symmetrical design.  And both ultimately testify to the genius of our common Creator.

I recently posted a review on David Kinnaman’s book unChristian, which has generated a lot of conversation in the last year or so.  Among the authors responding to this book is Russell Rathbun, who has recently authored unChristian: Finding Faith in a New Generation.  (Judson Press).  I have been invited to participate in Rathbun’s blog tour, so I will comment on the book and interact with him the week of October 12.  Rathbun is an emergent church pastor and author, so I’m very curious to see his response to unChristian.  Stay tuned.

Finally, the major league baseball season is drawing to a close, and as I write this my Detroit Tigers’ lead in the American League central division has dwindled to one game, with two games left in the season for both the Tigers and the Minnesota Twins, who have been hotly pursuing them the last three weeks.  Having had my baseball heart twice broken by the Twins—in ’87 when they drubbed Detroit in the ALCS and in ’91 when they squeaked by the Braves (also a rooting interest of mine)—I am quite keen on seeing the Tigers return the favor, if just for this season.  Will they do it?  Time, as they say, will tell.

UnChristian: A Book Review

I just finished reading UnChristian (Baker, 2007), a book authored by David Kinnaman, President of the Barna Group.  In the book Kinnaman presents the results of several years of research into what outsiders to the faith think about Christianity.  A common reaction among those he surveyed is summed up in the book’s title.  Outsiders, says Kinnaman, “think Christians no longer represent what Jesus had in mind, that Christianity in our society is not what it was meant to be” (p. 15).  By “outsider” Kinnaman means anyone who is not a “born-again Christian,” including atheists, agnostics, and devotees of other faiths.

bookUnchristianAccording to Kinnaman’s research, Christians in our society are increasingly viewed by outsiders as hypocritical, judgmental, anti-homosexual, sheltered, and too political.  For example, 85% of American outsiders ages 16-29 described Christians as hypocritical. 87% called Christians judgmental.  91% described Christians as anti-homosexual.  And 75% said Christians are too involved in politics.  Thus, says Kinnaman, “Christianity has an image problem” (p. 11).  More than this, he emphasizes, if this trend continues our faith will increasingly be regarded as irrelevant.  The practical upshot of this study, according to Kinnaman, is that we Christians need to do things a lot differently.

Kinnaman’s book devotes entire chapters to each of the above negative descriptors.  Chapter three deals with the perception of Christian hypocrisy—the notion that there is a significant gap between Christians’ beliefs and behavior.  This subject is especially interesting to me, since my first book was devoted to this complex and challenging issue.  However, I was disappointed to find that Kinnaman’s treatment of the issue is rather shallow from a moral-theological standpoint.  While his survey results are certainly interesting and potentially useful, some of the assumptions he brings to the subject are problematic and ultimately undermine the force of his claims.  For example, some of his data suggest that “Christians are increasingly permissive in their moral beliefs” (p. 53).  Specifically, among born-again Christians ages 23-41:

  • 33% believe viewing pornography is morally acceptable
  • 44% believe sex outside of marriage is morally acceptable
  • 59% believe cohabitation is morally acceptable

Now this raises two crucial questions.  First, given these moral convictions (or lack thereof), why should it surprise us that the behavior of born-again Christians is also morally lax?  That’s not hypocrisy but a sad sort of consistency between belief and practice.  Second, just what is meant by the designation “born-again Christian” in these Barna polls?  Here is Kinnaman’s answer:  “To be classified as a born-again Christian, a person has to say he or she has made a personal commitment to Jesus that is still important and that the person believes he or she will go to heaven at death, because the person has confessed his or her sin and accepted Christ as Savior” (p. 46).  Kinnaman uses this definition in his surveys for subjects to self-identify (as either born-again or not) and, presumably, to identify others (as born-again or not).  He recognizes that this approach is “not perfect,” but he doesn’t see just how flawed it is.  For one thing, this definition completely ignores the biblical emphasis on obedience as definitive of genuine saving faith (see John 14:21-23, James 2:14-26, and Gal. 5:22-23).  To use this unbiblical definition as the crux of one’s research into Christian behavior and perceptions of Christians is, to say the least, problematic.  Using such a restrictively belief-oriented concept of faith could only exacerbate the disturbing findings in Kinnaman’s poll data regarding the perception of Christian hypocrisy, not to mention some of the other negative descriptors discussed in his book.

Another chapter, entitled “Get Saved,” treats the perception among outsiders that Christians are so consumed with making converts that they are not sincerely interested in those who do not share their faith.  Here Kinnaman is at his best, and his data reveals what we should have known all along.  Evangelism is often a turn-off to most outsiders, particularly when a Gospel presentation “method” of any kind is used.  Most people can tell whether someone is interested in them for who they are rather than merely being the object of their evangelistic “pitch.”  However sincere such efforts might be by those who devise and teach them, the cumulative effect is that two-thirds of young outsiders believe that Christians who share their faith don’t genuinely care for them.  It’s hard to imagine a perception that could more significantly undermine the Christian quest to make converts.  This fact should prompt us to reconsider how we might better fulfill the Great Commission. Some other data revealed by Kinnaman should do so as well:  more than two-thirds of Americans say “they have made a commitment to Jesus Christ at some point in their life” (pp. 74-75) and “in America, the vast majority of people (even outsiders) are exposed to the message of Christianity many times throughout their lives” (p. 74).  Apparently, the problem is not lack of exposure to the Gospel message but lack of sound training in Christian living or discipleship of those who have made a commitment to Christ.  Kinnaman’s data also reveal that only 3% of self-identified Christians possess a biblical worldview (defined in terms of belief in such things as the moral perfection of Christ, the omnipotence and omniscience of God, salvation by grace, the reality of Satan, moral absolutes, and the authority of Scripture).  This, too, underscores the need to focus on proper discipleship of those who already believe rather than aggressive evangelism of those who do not.  This lesson, at times hinted at by Kinnaman, should have been emphasized in UnChristian.

In chapter five Kinnaman discusses the perception that Christians are anti-homosexual.  Along the way, he rightly distinguishes between being “against homosexuality” and being “against homosexuals” (p. 96), which is of course an application of the “love the sinner, hate the sin” maxim to this issue.  Unfortunately, Kinnaman fails to consistently apply this distinction throughout his discussion.  No doubt there are many outsiders who interpret any opposition to homosexuality as opposition to homosexuals.  Knowing what percentage of those surveyed fall into this category would be very helpful.  Evidently, Kinnaman did not seek this data—data which could potentially show that Christians are essentially being blamed for holding a biblical view on homosexuality.  This is not to say that there are no Christians who do effectively hate homosexuals as opposed to simply believing the lifestyle is immoral.  But by failing to survey in light of this distinction, Kinnaman’s results conflate the two categories and thus create the most negative impression.  To be fair, however, most of the “biblical responses” to homosexuality proposed by Kinnaman (pp. 104-107) are sound, and we would all do well to follow his guidelines (e.g., to acknowledge the complexity of the issue, to treat others respectfully when dealing with the issue, to show compassion to those who struggle with homosexuality, etc.).

Chapter seven deals with the common perception that Christians are “too political.”  As Kinnaman puts it, outsiders “think of us as motivated primarily by political goals and as promoting a right-wing agenda” (p. 154).  Now let’s consider these two perceptions in turn.  To say that evangelicals, as a group, pursue a “right-wing agenda” just doesn’t fit the facts, as Kinnaman himself notes, “among the evangelical segment, only a slight majority are registered Republicans (59 percent) . . . .  the Christian community is more diverse, less cohesive, and less unified than is typically assumed” (p. 160).  It would appear, then, that the perception that we’re all about right-wing politics is simply mistaken, perhaps partly reflective of the leftist predilections of many survey respondents.  As for the perception that Christians are “motivated primarily by political goals,” this seems to be a more legitimate concern.  As Kinnaman rightly observes, Christians should never rely on politics to solve problems that only God can solve by changing human hearts.  Kinnaman’s research also reveals that outsiders sometimes declare “that Christians seem ugly and rude toward political opponents” (p. 169), and there is simply no excuse for this.  But as I read this chapter I couldn’t help but think back to the late 1980s when the “religious right” movement began, through the influence of Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, among others.  In those days evangelicals were excoriated for being apathetic about politics, and these Christian leaders set about to changing this.  Now evangelicals are blasted for being “too involved.”  Oh well, you just can’t win.

Finally, in chapter eight Kinnaman deals with the perception that Christians are judgmental, noting that survey data shows outsiders “believe Christians . . . [try] to justify feelings of moral and spiritual superiority” (p. 182).  Once again, although Kinnaman makes some helpful observations, the entire discussion is confused by a failure to make a critical distinction.  There are two senses of “judgment.”  (See my 8/3/08 blog entry for a detailed discussion of these.)  There is judgment in the sense of condemnation.  This is the sense of the term in those New Testament passages where Jesus tells us not to judge, lest we be judged ourselves (cf. Mt. 7:1-5).  And this is the sense in which Kinnaman uses the term throughout the chapter, as is evident in his statement that “to be judgmental is to point out something that is wrong in someone else’s life, making the person feel put down, excluded, and marginalized” (p. 182).  But there is another sense of the term, and that is judgment in the sense of moral discernment.  This is the sort of judgment that is not only permissible but mandatory for the Christian, as Jesus tells us in Luke 7:43 and John 7:24 and as the apostle Paul makes clear in 1 Corinthians 5.  One can only wonder how Kinnaman’s poll data might have been improved by alerting respondents to this distinction.

I have noted numerous problems with UnChristian, but I do want to emphasize that there is much that is valuable in Kinnaman’s study, most notably in (1) giving us a sense of some outsiders’ negative perceptions of Christians, (2) providing insights regarding certain cultural trends both within and outside the church, and (3) highlighting some areas in which we Christians really do need to improve.  If nothing else, the book is worth reading for these reasons.  But I lament the fact that UnChristian could, and should, have been a much more insightful and helpful book.

A Healthy Slap in the Face Never Hurt Anyone

We have been vacationing at my parents’ place in the mountains and I have been busy rescuing children stranded in trees and marveling at the number of reptiles and amphibians my boys can catch in one day. I have also been busily lying around reading a book I never thought I would admit to having read, let alone recommend. I once heard someone say that sometimes when reading a book, it is as if a hand reaches out from the pages and takes yours, or something of the sort. (It was in a movie preview so I didn’t have much time to absorb the quote.) Perhaps this idea is a bit of cliché but only because we have all had the experience.

handmaidIn reading Margaret Atwood’s novel The Handmaid’s Tale, I found a hand extended from an unexpected quarter. As I have said before, I’m no feminist, so my expectations for enjoyment were relatively low. But this hand that clasped mine sometimes felt like the hand of friendship, warm and soft with humor and tenderness. Atwood tells the story of Gilead, a nation whose society is an oppressive hybrid of legalism and classism that would make the Pharisees look like slackers. This place is the head-on collision of Islamic Fundamentalism and the caste system of India with The Stepford Wives riding shotgun. Despite the heavy and often grotesque subject matter, Atwood flavors her writing with just enough wit to keep you from throwing yourself under a bus halfway through the book. Her ironic humor functions like salt in chocolate—you taste the despair more distinctly when compared with the lighter moments. At other times, rather than a friendly handshake, I felt like I was receiving a hearty slap in the face. All the atrocities committed by the Nation of Gilead are justified in religious terms, and the warping of the Scripture and truth into such monstrous falsehood is unsettling to say the least. I feared a “See all the horrible things people do in the name of Christianity” moment. But as I continued to read, I found a fairly balance approach. Yes, all the bad guys (and gals) use a lot of mumbo jumbo Christianese, but the main character of the book, Offred, seems to see this for what it is—mumbo jumbo. She also sees the weakness of reasoning which attempts to justify a society without restraints. Through the use of outrageous exaggeration, Atwood depicts both sides more clearly rather than employing one-sided stereotypes of the popular Christian fiction variety. Frankly, I find it more offensive when Christians present a white-washed, over-simplified version of the straight and narrow than when non-Christians present all Christians as hypocritical morons looking to oppress the infidels. We, at least, should know better.

This is definitely not a book for the faint at heart. It is crude, graphic, and highly disturbing. But considering the times we are living in, perhaps it is no more so than what you see surfing the net or watching the nightly news. Whatever your perspective, The Handmaid’s Tale will give you plenty to chew on as it has me. Something to think about as I take another picture of the boys’ creepy-crawlies or ascend the heights to liberate a terrified Maggie. While I don’t see myself walking hand-in-hand with Margaret Atwood down a sunny country lane (after all, Jane Austen is my usual partner in such walks, and she might get jealous), I certainly wouldn’t mind sharing a cup of coffee with her and hearing more of what she has to say.  I will promise not to be too defensive and not to use any Christianese. Maybe I will even bring Jane along, if Atwood promises not to use the “F” word too much or slap me in the face again.