Half-Bucket List

In 2013 I will turn 40.  Unless I die first, in which case I will not turn 40.

I think I'd rather turn 40.

Anyway, since turning 40 puts you in "mid-life" I thought I would start working on a list of things I would like to do before the end of my fortieth year.  For those of you who don't like fractions, let me explain.

My life is statistically half over, I am working on a half-bucket list. I would like this list to include things to do before the end of 2013. 40 years, 40 things, half a life, half a bucket.

So, I thought I'd ask friends and loved-ones to help me populate the list. I get final veto authority, but YOU get a souvenir or memento if your suggestion makes the list and I actually do that thing.

So fire away, brave souls. I'll be your huckleberry.

Visit the list here. (http://scottbarger.blogspot.com/p/the-list.html)

Real Men Read Greek and Listen to Sigur Rós

I have noticed a trend in the church industry lately.  A trend away from the decidedly feminine character of most of our churches. A trend towards a more masculine iteration of church. A trend away from pink towards, not blue, but camouflage green.  A trend away from emotive and sentimental appeals to relate to Jesus towards prophetic challenges to do more good. 

It is a man trend.

A few years back someone realized that our churches were getting a bit light in the loafers and decided to man up the operation a bit. I am not sure who was first, but there are many who seem to have followed suit. 

Mark Driscoll is a good example.  Just watch the guy preach sometime - his style is aggressive, challenging, and dripping in alpha male swagger.  He gives me the feeling that he is one breath from walking down off the platform and actually kicking someone’s ass.

What a man.

As with most church trends, those embracing the movement will appeal to scripture to show why they do what they do (and why you should do what they do, too). The bible champions masculinity, God made men to be leaders, warriors, conquerors. This is why we love sports, have muscles, eat meat.  Why would God give us balls if he didn’t want us to use them? He wouldn’t. So there.

I agree with most of this. It is frustrating to see men becoming less interested in church, acquiescing strength and giving up on leadership.  Our churches have changed because of this, to be sure, and not all of this change has been good. I agree that our churches ought to reach out to all people, including men. Our sermons ought to be engaging, our worship authentic, our fellowship meaningful for all kinds of people.

But how do we do this?

Some seem to think that we should lose the girly decor in favor of something more manly. Read this from a guy who works at one of the many mega-churches in our area:

“When you step into the lobbies, the decor is industrial rather than floral (as a matter of fact, the only time we have used flowers to decorate was for 3 weeks during a series for women called "Daughters") .”

Real men don’t like flowers.

Later he goes on to say, “(Our) entire male staff competed in a 12 mile special ops obstacle race called ‘TOUGH MUDDER’- leading the way for other men to step up and take on the challenge as well.”

Real men are athletic and competitive. So we reach them by giving them an outlet to express their biblical man urge to conquer something or someone.

I understand why churches like these are doing what they do, I agree with it...mostly. Something about it bothers me. It bothers me because it seems like we are embracing a caricature of masculinity and promoting it as though it were a biblical mandate.

What does this say to the people in our churches? What if I am not athletic or competitive? Am I not a real man? Or worse, am I not a good man?

I think it’s possible that in a well motivated attempt to reconnect with Christian men, we have inadvertently promoted a version of masculinity that is too narrow and, for some men, unattainable.

I do not have to be a growling, highly competitive sportsman who bags the buck and the babe in order to be a good, Christian man.

I do not have to enjoy competition to be a real man.  I can be a real man and despise competition. My son is this way, and I think he is more noble because of it.

I do not have to hunt, hike, wrestle, fight, play in the mud, shoot stuff, hit stuff, break stuff, conquer my competition, vanquish my foes, or ravish my wife in order to be a real man.

Furthermore, I think it is dangerous for our churches to assume that real men do (or ought to) behave this way.

So in order to take a little momentum off of the testosterone laden pendulum, let me offer up a short list of some of the things real men do:

Real men learn how to fail with dignity.
Real men value learning and growth.
Real men practice contentment and humility.
Real men learn to go without.
Real men lead by serving.
Real men pursue wisdom.
Real men appreciate subtlety, nuance, and discretion.
Real men enjoy beauty.
Real men know how to be strong and weak.

Interestingly enough, my list of what “real women” do is identical.

Seriously

This summer I had an epiphany.

Seriously.

I realized why people like to be legalistic. What I mean by the term "legalistic" is they like to live by convictions that they really think other people should live out. When I was younger I attended a small Christian school that was pretty legalistic. They lived out convictions about the kind of music you should listen to, the kinds of movies you should see, the kind of clothes you should wear, the kind of bible you should read.

I can remember feeling like these convictions were intended to make me feel like I was less than them. I mean, at the very least I felt like I was less than them. I can remember kind of grousing at them in my mind, "Do you think you're better than me?"

Here's the zinger.

They actually did feel like they were better than me, that's why they did it.

Seriously.

How did I come to this realization? Because I also live out convictions that I think other people should live out and one of the payoffs of this attitude is that it makes me feel like I am better than other people.

Seriously.

I compost and recycle. Why? Because I think it is the right thing to do. I think Christians ought to do these things. When I do them and I look around at other Christians who do NOT do these things, I feel like I am a bit better than they are.

I reclaim rainwater and use it to grow organic vegetables. Why? Because I think I ought to. Why else? Because I end up feeling like I am better than you.

There are all kinds of convictions that I live out that end up making me feel like I am a better sort of person than those who don't. Here's a short list:

- I am politically informed.
- I read the Bible.
- I am a libertarian.
- I live in a small house.
- I have a bitchin' mustache.
- I listen to music you've never heard of.

You get the idea.

Here's another zinger...I see other Christians doing the same thing, I think. Here is a list of convictions I see my fellow Christians living out in such a way that I think they end up feeling like they are actually better people than those who don't:

- They talk about how hot their spouse is (or how great the sex is)
- They don't use birth control.
- They home-school.
- They use cloth diapers.
- They don't use credit cards.
- They talk about how awesome their churches are.

I really think I am right about this one. Come to think of it, the fact that I am saying it out loud makes me feel like I am, you know, actually better than you.

Assurance, Insurance, and the Bottom Line

(Note: I am posting from the road. Sketches may be added later.)

This past week I shared a sermon from Hebrews 3:7-19. The central truth of this passage is that obstinate rebellion results in judgment, even for people of promise. I think Hebrews brings an increasingly severe (and scary) series of warnings to the church. The warning seem to be making the case that there is a line of apostasy, and if you cross that line there is NO coming back.

Of course this immediately raise the questions of eternal security, losing one's salvation, perseverance of the saints, once saved - always saved...how ever you want to describe it. I read these passages and am forced to ask the question, "Can a Christian lose the promise of life eternal?"

Hebrews seems to answer that question affirmatively.

Now I realize that my fellow Calvinists will have a handful of theological constructs they use to explain away this interpretation of the warning passages in Hebrews. I do not have the time energy or desire to discuss these constructs other than to ask, "If there is no danger, then why is there a warning?"

The concept I would like to engage now is how quickly biblical exhortations to Christian faith (and conversely warnings against apostasy) end up as discussions about so called eternal security.

Is it possible that we have reduced the entirety of the Good News to a list of theological propositions or moral decisions that we have to accept in order to avoid damnation? Is the only value of following Jesus escaping hell? Is there nothing else of value?

Or, to turn the issue on its head, if there was no such promise of eternal life or threat of eternal damnation, would we still follow?

The Right Reverend Wright is Right

(Note: Posting from the road. I might add sketches later)

I watched the following video through a friends FaceBook link yesterday:

http://vimeo.com/24472481

Anyone who knows me knows that I have, um, let's call it an "affinity" for N.T. Wright. Ever since I read Surprised by Hope a couple years ago (a book, by the way, that absolutely changed my life) I have been reading through Wright's stuff as fast as I can. He is an accomplished Bible scholar and prolific writer, so there is a lot of stuff to read, but it is always good and always challenging.

So when I saw a link to the video above, naturally I had to watch. It's called "Messianic Lunacy," a title which is dripping with the kind of stinging but true style of critique that Wright employs so often and so well.

The premise of the video is a question, " What makes N.T. Wright Angry?"

As I watched the video, I found myself, as usual, agreeing with what he was saying. Maybe I am an unthinking fan boy, but this Brit makes sense.

It is frustrating to encounter Christians who view the world so myopically and yet feel so strongly that they know just what is wrong and just how to fix it.

Watch it and become more awesome than you are right now.

"No-ing" versus "Knowing"

(Note: Posting from the road. Sketches may be added later.)

I had an interesting conversation today. One that related to my studies Hebrews. More or less we talked about doubting. The question we talked around was, "How much can you doubt and still believe?"

This is a good question, I think. One that more and more Christians seem to be asking. Some Christian leaders would have us believe that doubting is symptomatic of a lack of faith. They would tell us that to waiver in belief means that you don't believe, that you have no faith.

I am not sure I agree.

As I read the Bible, it seems that God has a lot of graciousness for doubters. People who waiver, stumbled in their certainty. People who wonder why God does what he does, or when he will do what he has said he will do. Or whether he is even there at all.

On the other hand, he doesn't seem to tolerate obstinate rebellion. Could it be that "believing" isn't an absence of doubt as much as it is the presence of obedience?

Over the last few weeks I have had several opportunities to answer a version of the following question, "What should I do when I find it hard to believe in God?"

My response?

Live like you believe it is true.

I mean, what else can you do? You can't make yourself believe what you don't believe, right? You can't just decide to have no doubt, can you? I sure can't. So when I experience doubts in my own life, and see others around me doubting, I find comfort in God's apparent patience with those who have a hard time believing, and motivation from his apparent frustration with those who stumble into rebellion.

I live like it is true...even though sometimes I wonder whether or not it is.

Seeing Myself in The Desert of Sin

I have been preaching my way through Hebrews at my church. You can check out some sermons here: http://sermon.net/newhorizon

This coming Sunday I will be teaching from Hebrews 3:7-19. It is an interesting passage. Structurally it challenging because it essentially is using a story from Israel's past (Exodus 17:1-7 and Numbers 20:1-13) as it is understood theologically from the perspective of the Psalmist in Psalm 95.

So I have been reading through sections of the Exodus story, reacquainting myself with the rocky relationship between God and his people in these early years. As I have been doing this I have realized a pretty challenging fact.

The people in the desert remind me of me.

I tend to revert to a complaining sort of fatalism at the first glimpse of significant obstacles in my path. I find myself questioning the path that God has called me to walk, not because the path is hard - I expected as much - but because the path seems to be fatal. There are times when I think I might be in mortal danger (figuratively speaking of course...well mostly). I find myself thinking, "Wouldn't it have been better to not have started the journey than to come this far only to fail?"

As I read the story of God's people and their exodus out of Egypt towards the promised land, as I see how similar their attitude is to mine, I am suddenly a bit fearful.

Because that attitude angers God.