A Challenge: Model Another Way

A buddy of mine, Dan Sanders, recently posted a facebook note entitled "On the Ridiculousness of Religion." He prefaces it by acknowledging that the note's title and content are likely to offend some people and that he does rail more against Christianity than other world religions (because Christianity is all he's known) before he goes on to reflect on the content of shock comedian/political pundit Bill Maher's lampooning documentary, Religulous. All in all, I enjoyed Dan's note. He and I share the frustration of being professing Christians within an American religious context in which the prevailing form of Christianity does not align with what we mean by our profession. It's this constant struggle he and I share as we confess, "Yes, I'm a Christian. No, I don't like most Christians I've met, nor what they represent."

My usual comments to Dan's notes are in the role of dissenter. As is the case with most bloggers, most of the folks who read his stuff resonate with his experiences and agree with his opinions, so the usual responses encourage what he's written. I, on the other hand, like to offer an alternative perspective. Not for the sake of playing Devil's Advocate, but to try to provide a more well-rounded perspective that will hopefully challenge him to grow. (By the way, this isn't a one sided relationship. Dan has played an important role in getting me to challenge a lot of my own beliefs.) Sadly (for myself), Dan's latest note excluded my usual dissenting voice because I agreed with most of the dang thing. Instead, I offered Dan a challenge. After I had written it, I got to thinking that my challenge would make a good blog post. So, with a few modifications, here is my challenge:

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Jerry Falwell used to define a fundamentalist as "an evangelical who is angry about something." Offering a more academic definition, evangelical historian George Marsden defines a fundamentalist as "an evangelical who is militant in opposition to liberal theology in the churches or to changes in cultural values or mores, such as those associated with 'secular humanism.'" Let's just get it out of the way right away and say that I think fundamentalism is perhaps the greatest tragedy in all of American church history. I would not deny that fundamentalism has some strengths, but by in large I see it as the epitome of all that has gone wrought with American Christianity. Yet I would nuance my position. In my estimate, the biggest problem with American Christianity today is not the mere existence of fundamentalists (angry, self-righteous, fiercely nationalistic, anti-intellectual, etc.), but the fact that they are the most passionate Christians in the way the live out their faith. That is, fundamentalists are the face of American Christianity because they are vocal while the more moderate Christians such as ourselves are marked by timidity, apathy, and obvious immaturity. People are looking for leaders and these various fundamentalists, be they students on campus or national figures, give them something to rally behind.

If we want to change both the external perception and the internal character of American Christianity that Maher rightly observes, we who seek to be different must simply step up. At TFC, such current students need to take active roles on campus and former students need to be involved with the alumni office. In our churches, we must step up and become teachers, deacons, elders, counselors, and pastors. In academia, we need to get our Ph.Ds and show that the serious integration of faith and learning is not only possible, but beneficial. On facebook, we need to take a more vocal stand, be that writing more notes or creating more groups that show that the fundamentalists don't speak for us. In short, we need to proactively demonstrate that there is another way to be a Christian.

Many Christians today assume that contemporary American society hates Christianity. In large part, I recognize that they're right. But on the other hand, I see an American society that is simply tired of the hypocrisy, hatred, and anti-intellectualism of the Christian Right. I see an American society that yearns to be shown a different type of Christianity. They yearn to see a Christianity that is humble, honest, and loving. Remember, this is the same society that loves Billy Graham but hates Jerry Falwell. It doesn't mean that everyone will agree with our beliefs or come to faith, but they do see the difference between the two approaches.

In sum, we can wallow in these problems, sitting around bemoaning the status of contemporary American Christianity or we can actively be a part of the solution. My challenge to all those kindred spirits of Dan and I, those who profess faith in Christ but cannot stomach the rampant fundamentalism in this country, is to lead by example. Show that another way is possible by modeling it. I strongly believe that there are a lot of hurting Christians and lost non-Christians who are desperate to see us do it. As a former fundamentalist, trust me when I say that even a few of the fundamentalists are secretly desperate to be shown another way.

Michael Jackson: Part II

I've been spending way too many hrs this weekend watching MJ videos and I'm starting to notice stuff that I don't think I would otherwise...

Ya think of his dance moves as just his dance moves. MJ was MJ. But I'm noticing that they changed over time. In some areas, he lost the youthful "explosion" over time. His moves weren't as quick and smooth. This particularly impacted his leg kick, arm flail (with the one finger pointed out), and spin. They were still good, but not amazing. But in other areas, he seems to have gotten better as a dancer, actually improving certain moves markedly over time to the point of perfection. For example, in the videos below, compare the moonwalk in its first display at Motown 25 in '85 (3:43/5:04) vs. Munich in '99 (0:44/2:30). I swear the moonwalk improved:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VASYhabHkM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdV6ZEh3Mrw

I like the Jam video as a good showcase of his skills. His spin (4:36) and leg kick were still amazing (4:39) at that point, but the moonwalk had improved (7:04) plus he'd developed the moonwalking in place (2:51, 4:29, 7:00). The only key moves missing are the moonwalking in a square and the sideways moonwalk from later in his career. By the way, that sideways moonwalk continues to baffle me (1:40 on second link).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13ZGZexsaFo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdV6ZEh3Mrw

Michael Jackson: Part I

In death as in life, it seems that most people want to compartmentalize Michael Jackson. He is either praised as an amazingly talented pop icon or reviled as a freak. Yet I think there's more to the story. Perhaps more than any other celebrity of the past generation, I think Jackson embodied the dichotomy that is the human condition.

This past Friday I saw the political cartoon to the right. It does a tremendous job of capturing the dichotomy that Jackson represented. On the one hand, few honest people will deny that he was a tremendous vocal talent and, almost undoubtedly, the best dancer of his generation. (I would argue that his dance style fundamentally change the dance style in our whole society. Just check out Britain's Got Talent sometime for proof.) He also cared a great deal for the poor and downtrodden around the world. When I looked at those elements, I could not help but see God's image manifested in Jackson's creative artistry and compassion. Yet you could not help but see the consequences of the Fall within him as well.

Whether you think he molested those boys or not, we can all agree that he got creepy as the years went along. His physical metamorphosis from a handsome, young, African-American man to what appeared to be a disfigured dancing mannequin demonstrated outwardly the volatile struggle that was occurring inwardly. This is no excuse for his behavior, but he was clearly a tortured soul. From the rigorous practice schedule as the lead singer of the Jackson 5 to the physical abuse at the hands of his father, young Michael never had a chance to grow up normally. Then making the unusual transition from child star to pop culture phenomenon, there he didn't have the opportunity to spend time getting himself together beyond the camera's attention. The pain he experienced for the rest of his life simply played out the psychological (and spiritual?) devastation within him.

As I reflect back on MJ, I can think of few people who simultaneously demonstrate the potential that God instilled in us as His most precious creation as well as the degree to which that potential has gone awry. Most people glorified or reviled Michael Jackson. He was either good or evil. But when I looked on him, I felt both awe and pity--for his life was a magnification of the human condition that we all share.

Honest Thoughts About Ordinary Spiritual Gifts

* For those of you who are reading this blog post as a facebook import and want to offer a comment or question, please do so at http://carsontclark.blogspot.com/. Thanks.

Context:

Not too long ago I heard a Christian talk about how he has the "spiritual gift of teaching" when it seems clear to me that he does not. Then I got to thinking about other people I've known who are not Christians, yet excel as classroom instructors. I began to wonder about the difference been spiritual gifts and natural abilities.

FYI - In case someone should read this who doesn't know me well, I am neither a Pentecostal nor a Cessationist. I'm not alarmed by miraculous gifts, but neither do I expect them.

Issue:

In my own (Pentecostal) background, discussions about spiritual gifts had a propensity to emphasize the miraculous ones. I don't fault anyone for that. It makes perfect sense. The supernatural nature of tongues, prophecy, healing, and the like makes them easy to marvel at. They make God seem real and tangible. For someone riddled with doubt who sincerely wants to believe, these gifts can be quite legitimizing of one's faith. It is little wonder, then, that the so-called "miraculous gifts" often become the centerpiece of discussions regarding spiritual gifts. What gets me is that I've never heard anyone break from the mold and say, "Hey, wait a second. Some of these don't sound very supernatural, but they're in the same list as all the rest. What's going on here? What does that mean for the nature of spiritual gifts?" Am I honestly the only person who thinks these things or was everyone else fearful that it'd seem like they had a lack of faith? I don't know. Where I'm at is simply trying to be open and honest about this issue--one that I've been wrestling with for well over a decade.

My attention is particularly focused on 1 Corinthian 12's list. If I'm honest about it, I have to admit that two of the items stick out like sore thumbs: teaching and administration. They're non-spectacular and, if I may be completely honest, seemingly not very spiritual. I mean, seriously, teaching? I've known plenty of non-Christians who possess this ability, yet we wouldn't classify that as a spiritual gift, would we? And it sure doesn't seem like non-Christians who have the natural ability of teaching automatically become better teachers when they're saved, as though their natural ability was enhanced into a spiritual gift. So what's going on?

Frustration:

I admit it: I'm angry. I probably shouldn't be, but I am. I'm really, freaking tired of all these spiritual gift inventories that our churches and Bible colleges administer, as though identifying a spiritual gift were as simple as a psychological profile. By the very nature of it being a spiritual gift, doesn't that mean there's something mysterious and supernatural going on? Plus, I'm weary of the way most well-intentioned evangelical folks tend to over-spiritualizing everything. I'd be perfectly willing, even excited, to call it a spiritual gift if an incompetent babbler suddenly became an eloquent teacher capable of conveying God's truth in powerful, coherent terms. I'd see God's power in that and would praise Him for it. But that's generally not the way folks use it. So couldn't it just be that some of our teachers within the Church simply have a natural ability that is advantageous for use within the Church? Why does it have to be spiritual? Then again, I've been born and raised within a secular American culture that is profoundly skeptical of all spiritual things...

Questions:

1. What delineates, or what is the relationship between, "spiritual gifts" (Christians) and natural abilities (both Christians and non-Christians)?
2. Can non-Christians have "spiritual gifts" or are these exclusively the result of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit?
3. Do our natural abilities simply become "spiritual gifts" when we're saved?
4. Are natural abilities enhanced in some way to become "spiritual gifts"?
5. Is what makes natural abilities such as teaching a "spiritual gift" the fact that they're being utilized on behalf of the Church?
6. In the chapter in question (1 Cor. 12), there appears to be a supernatural component within the idea of spiritual gifts. So are they only spiritual gifts when a person who otherwise doesn't have that ability is supernaturally given it by the Holy Spirit?
7. Could these spiritual gifts be a short-term enabling/empowering for a specific time and purpose?

If you're expecting some sort of profound answer, I'm sorry to disappoint. All I've got right now is questions.

LeBron's Knees

First time I saw LeBron play back in '03 I immediately noticed that he's splay-footed--the feet land with the toes pointed slightly outward from the body’s center of mass. Terrible for the knees long-term, yet I can't find ANYONE who is discussing this. Then I heard that he's been icing his knees regularly since he was 18. I predict that this'll end up being the Achilles's Heal of the greatest physical specimen in NBA history. Why is this getting no coverage? Have people honestly not noticed this or is it that they don't want to talk about the potentially greatest player ever being done by 32?

Packing Away Old Books

My wife and I just moved across town, out of our apartment and into a house. This inspired me to finally pack away a lot of books. I got downright reflective in the process.

Some of the books are on topics I no longer care about like the Arminianism v. Calvinism debate. That used to be a riveting topic. It was one of my first exposures to formal theology and it got my mind racing about such issues as God's character, the means by which people are saved, etc. It made me start seriously thinking about God and for that I will forever be grateful. In the past couple years, however, I've progressively come to the opinion that this and many similar topics are not only old and worn out, but are the result of 16th century European thought forms that has little to do with the Ancient Near Eastern contexts out of which Scripture was written. The problem was I knew of no alternatives. I had not yet been exposed to theologians who were operating under a different paradigm, so I kept digging deeper into these topics in my efforts to understand and know God.

Some of the books were hang-overs from my Pentecostal background. I bought them during a period of my life from late high school into my year my Moody when I was trying to convince myself that I should like, and deeply resonate with, devotional books emphasizing personal piety and existential spiritual experiences.That was the only form of Christianity I had known, so I was desperately trying to contort myself into that mold. I remember the deep frustration and spiritual anguish I felt. More than anything, I wanted to relate to God in the way these authors were talking about. I prayed night after night that God would "make Himself real to me" and that I would be infused with a passionate, overwhelming yearning for God that surpassed the capacities of sheer intellect. What I wanted was a simple joy in Christ that fulfilled me and made life relatively easy. Needless to say, that has not been my experience. Rather, God has led me down a path of relational intellectualism. I continue to wrestle with deep-seeded doubts, great frustrations, and, for the most part, famine in my spiritual existentialism. It has not always been pleasant, but through it all I have discovered what is, in my estimate, a deeper, richer, and more honest christian walk that does not ignore the difficulties of faith or the problems of this world, but hits them head on. It's a different path than what I ever would have expected, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

Another group of books came from my brother, who was trying to craft me into his own image with books that were about making a lot of money and being an entrepreneur. It would be a misrepresentation to say that I grew up in a family that was obsessive toward money, but I can accurately say that my family adored those who had become wealthy through their own ingenuity and work ethnic. That was the conservative, Republican model that I had been inculcated with since birth. Likewise, my brother has simply working out philosophy and ideals that he had been taught. No other path made, and continues to make, sense in his mind. It's interesting that my perception of these books evolved so much over the years. First I wanted to be just like my brother, so I was excited to read anything that would put me on the path. Then I gave my life over to God. Though my brother had effectively kicked me to the curb and refused to have a relationship with me, you'd think that my new found spiritual fervor would've led me to become compassionate and loving toward him. Instead, I became a condescending, fundamentalist jerk because of my own pride and spiritual immaturity. I was convinced that any aspirations toward wealth were simply wicked. That doesn't go over so well with a brother who is an entrepreneur. Fortunately, (I like to think that) that phase was short lived. Next came the period in which I began to tentatively accept the reality of our estrangement, but I dreamt of reading those books simply as a way of reconnecting with him. Finally, we had one of our rare phone conversations in which he called my academic aspirations "a f***ing waste of time," saying that I was "a useless academic who is stuck in a world of philosophical ideas that has nothing to do with the real world." He concluded his tirade by pronouncing that I am "personally representative of all that is wrong with this country" and that I'll “never amount to anything until [I] get a real job." Needless to say, that was the coup de grace for our relationship and my desire to read those books.

The last group of books simply contained a lot of one-sided, conservative propaganda regarding political activism, theology, and everything in between. What bothers me so much about these books is not that I have differences of opinions and beliefs with the authors, but they’re so poorly written and their arguments so poorly constructed. Can’t believe there was a time not too long ago when I found that stuff to be intellectually challenging. Then again, college will do that do you if you let it.

More than anything, this experience was liberating. These books represent the transition from adolescence into adulthood, a time in which I came into my own in nearly all areas of life. I don’t want to give a false impression like my life is perfect and I’ve got all my crap together. Clearly I don’t. Yet I am today confident in who I am, who God has made me, and will no longer hide what I think/believe and what my struggles are. Surveying these books, I marvel at the path that has brought me where I am today and wonder where it'll take me in the future.

Movie Review: We Were Soldiers

We Were Soldiers effectively pulled off what The Thin Red Line failed to do: show the horror of warfare and the psychological terror that soldiers must press through to survive. The storytelling was powerful and gripping. Mel Gibson and the rest of the cast did a superb job, as did the director and producers. At no time did I feel like the movie was trying to manipulate my emotions, causing me to think and feel certain things. It simply told the story and let the audience take it in. Personally, I appreciated that the movie did not glorify war nor give a one-sided, patriotic view of the Vietnam War from the American side but instead provided a balanced account that presented war as a tragic reality of this world. I suspect this movie will haunt my mind for days and end up being a formative experience in my views regarding warfare. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Enough with the Perpetual Blind Eye: Baseball, Steroids, and Journalistic Standards

This evening I was listening to a podcast of Mike & Mike in the Morning and they were interviewing Foxsports columnist Ken Rosenthal. Generally speaking, I'm a fan of Rosenthal's work. He's the sort of writer who usually isn't afraid to take chances. He'll write articles that he'll later admit were driven by strong emotions and frustrations. He's admitted that some of his views are not internally consistent, but he's working through them. In short, he's an intellectually honest sports columnist. He doesn't wait to write his opinion till it's completely coherent, but is willing to walk to reader through his thought processes as his opinions develop. Some may say that's irresponsible and he should be more hesitant, but I resonate with his style.

Jump forward to today's podcast. In somewhat of a reversal of his usual style, Rosenthal wrote an article entitled "Sorry Papi, but we're living in an age of accusations" in which he slammed the media for its declining journalistic standards, specifically targeting the issue of steroids. He writes:

"Ten years ago, no self-respecting journalist would have speculated that a player was using performance-enhancing drugs without some form of proof. Now, in blogs and chat rooms and other Internet vehicles, people blithely suggest that plays such as the Red Sox's David Ortiz are in decline because they no longer take PEDs. Even respected mainstream journalists such as the Chicago Sun-Times' Rick Telander are stretching previous boundaries. Telander began a recent column by saying, 'Sorry, Ryan Theriot, you are a suspect,' and ended with the line, 'When you plant cheating, Major League Baseball, cynicism will be the crop.' Fair enough, but such finger-pointing forces players into a corner. It's irresponsible. It's unfair. It needs to stop... Baseless accusations are an affront not just to journalistic standards, which evolve with new technology, but also an affront to standards of decency."

I'll be the first to admit that I am not a journalist. I have not studied journalistic ethics nor do I understand the legal issues that these writers face. The perspective that I can write from is that of a sports fan. Personally, I'm tired of sports journalists sounding like the dumbest people in the country. Let me give an example. As many of my friends will remember, for several years before Roger Clemens got named in the Mitchell Report and "misremembered" before Congress, I was openly wondering whether The Rocket was a steroid user. His stats perfectly fit the profile of a dominant pitcher who was aging, lost his edge, and then miraculously had this return to dominance spanning from his early 30s into his 40s. Yet even in an era in which skepticism and cynicism run rampant, none of my buddies wanted to except it. (And these weren't even Clemens or Yankees fans with some sort of vested interest.) They were simply operating with the innocent until proven guilty mentality. The problem is, ya end up looking hopelessly naive if you haven't managed to learn your lesson from McGwire, Sosa, Bonds and all the rest. This was just among my college buddies. Now imagine we're talking about sports journalists. The nature of their profession demands, or is supposed to demand, that they be at the forefront of sports news. They're supposed to be providing the cutting edge information. Yet with the approach Rosenthal is advocating, they're going to be left as the PC police--not suggesting anything without 100% undeniable evidence, even if it makes 'em sound outdated and ignorant.

Rosenthal responds to almost the exact charge I'm offering as he writes, "Oh, I know I'm shouting into cyberspace, opening myself up to a cyclone of snark in which I am reminded, among other things, that the Mainstream Media was late to the party on steroids." This is exactly where Rosenthal and others are, in my opinion, missing the point. Historically, they understand that they missed the boat on the Steroid Era and they feel rather sheepish about it. Good deal, that's progress. What they seemingly fail to grasp, however, is that their continued hesitancy means that they've missed the single most important lesson: where there is smoke, there is probably fire. As journalists, the whole basis of their profession is premised upon finding the "fire," not waiting until the building has burned down to call the 9-1-1. They keep taking the conservative route of apologizing for missing the story years after the fact and, to the best of my knowledge, that is not what journalism is about.

Time to tackle the journalists' #1 objection to these arguments: You don't want this to become a "witch hunt." So let's take a look at this argument, shall we? What is a witch hunt? Dictionary.com defines it as "an intensive effort to discover and expose disloyalty, subversion, dishonesty, or the like, usually based on slight, doubtful, or irrelevant evidence." But I would suggest that this definition doesn't go far enough. In terms of our popular conception of a witch hunt, it is not only an attack based upon little evidence but an attack against the innocent. Few people today honestly think that any of the people who were burned at the stake were evil sorcerers. The idea is seen as ludicrous by popular culture. By contrast, baseball has a well-documented list of users. (6 of baseball's top 20 all-time home run leaders are known steroid users.) Allow me to suggest that this is precisely why this search for baseball's steroid users is not a "witch hunt"--witches didn't exist, steroid users did (and still do).

The danger of this line of reasoning, of course, is that you don't want to tarnish the reputation of the innocent. We won't want the numbers and character of presumably innocent players like Ken Griffey, Jr., Jim Thome, and Frank Thomas to get soiled by the context in which they played, especially if they achieved these feats in spite of the prevailing steroid culture around them. (Makes them seem all the greater!) But to me, no one comes out of this era unscathed. If Griffey, Thomas, and all the rest were doing it naturally, why didn't they have the cojones to speak up publicly? If the union is not only protecting the illegal activity of its members but is actually unfairly raising the competition against you, then damn the union. You openly and publicly take a stand against it. If you will, go back with me to the '90s. Remember how huge Ken Griffey, Jr. was? Remember how he was this titan of the industry? Now imagine that he, rather than a chach like Jose Canseco, had been the one to blow the whistle on steroids. He would've forever been the patron saint of baseball. They may have even made him MLB's version of Jerry West, making him the new logo of the league. Instead, he and all the others sat back and kept their mouths closed for fear of persecution or a decrease in financial gain. Because of this, I would suggest that even the steroid-free players brought this scrutiny upon themselves. Yes, we should do our best not to vilify those who were drug-free, but if at this point I were choosing between protecting the reputation of the innocent through journalistic ignorance or making sure we nailed as many of the offenders as possible through sharp scrutiny, I'll take the latter. Some will call me a cynic... My response: I saw Barry Bonds hit 73 home runs in one season. It's not cynicism, it's honestly dealing with the realities as they exist.

http://msn.foxsports.com/mlb/story/9616968/Sorry-Papi,-but-we%27re-living-in-age-of-accusations