The Shack: Part 4…I can go no further..

Let me preface this latest, and perhaps last, installment of my rambling  thoughts surrounding The Shack by saying that, without regard to the negative reviews I have read, I wanted to like this book. I wanted to find an authentic depiction of a struggle with fundamental tensions regarding the nature of a good God in a world of suffering. However, my experience in The Shack thus far leads me to think I would be wasting my time to wade through to the completion of Young’s excretal narrative. My primary objections to Young’s thoughts are theological, rather than literary, though I have those objections, too.

As a follow-up to the previous installment on my review of The Shack, I think Young almost verges into the realm of tri-theism in his depiction of a Trinitarian God. It was a subtle issue for me because, if I were prone, quite honestly, to stray from orthodoxy, I would probably drift in that direction. Too, it is hard for me to define why I see such an aberration in The Shack, but I know it is there. I think my impression stems from the distinctiveness, the separateness of the personalities found in Young’s god. I also find the physical incarnation of all three members of Young’s trinity to be disconcerting and unbiblical.

Further thoughts and concerns regarding Young’s unfolding of the Trinitarian nature of God refer to the lack of hierarchy found in his trinity. At one point, Papa tells Mack, “We don’t need power over the other…Hierarchy would make no sense among us.” However, we find the Christ being obedient to the Father, even unto death, an obedience found in a hierarchy based on mutual love, not power, but a hierarchy non-the-less.

Further mutations to orthodox Trinitarian theology occur when Young depicts Papa, his female African-American incarnation of the Father, bearing scars of the Messiah’s crucifixion, bringing confusion to each member of the Trinity’s redemptive role in securing the salvation of His children. Here we find, without regards to my concern for his seeming tri-theism,Young perhaps swinging towards a kind of modalism wherein there is actually little ontological distinction between the members of the Trinity.

The key is this: if one thinks good theology is but of a peripheral concern when approaching books that are, even if nominally fictional, theological in nature, that make clear, but questionable, doctrinal statements about God, then I will not be able formulate a convincing case for my concerns. One will be content to simply find solace in the easy sentimentality found in the Shack without regard to this influential book being a theological train wreak.

I am at a decision point, and I decide this: I will lay The Shack aside, review it no further, for I find myself parroting the same concerns as other discerning readers and reviewers. As said previously, I am already bent towards an often unhealthy cynicism, and this type of reading feeds that part of me. I want to read, now, something to clean the cerebral palate. I will go back to reading some old, dead guy named Sibbes.

Today’s petition

Our Father Who resides in heavenly places,

Thank you that you provide for me. Thank you for the food and shelter you give me.  Thank You that You are faithful even when I am faithless.

Father, even in your generous provision,  I confess I am often discontent. I am bent in many places, but even so, I ask you to make me useful to You and Your kingdom.

If You love me, and I am aware of this place of bitter irreverence, sin, and ugly doubt from which my preface wells, please, in Your absolute sovereignty, make my will malleable and conform it to Yours. Make me, please, a messenger of your grace and mercy, a messenger of the Gospel. Render me useful to you, and when I die, let me be forgotten. I can have all the wealth in the world, but if I do not believe you will make a way to use me for Your glory, I am the most poor and wretched man on earth.

Father, I am, and you know this, spring-loaded to the cynical position at times. I often find myself surrounded by voices that do not long for the things I long for, do not understand things the way I understand them, and I am, more often than I care to admit, influenced by those voices. Sometimes it seems easier to conform than reform. Sometimes, even often, my own heart betrays me and desires and acquires things that are hay and stubble. Make Your longings my longing.

If You desire that my vocation be to humbly work with my mind and hands, make me content with that. Take away those desires that are born from my pride and selfishness, please.

In the name of Christ,
Amen.

Not everyone gets to be an astronaut when they grow up

My group at work recently provided for its members an opportunity to attend a Get Motivated seminar. Among the noted speakers were Robert Schuller, Rudy Guilliani, and Steve Forbes. I have a strong, perhaps unique and maybe errant inclination towards cynicism in regards to such positive-thinking schemes, and I carried that cynicism with me to the seminar.

While we did not attend the entirety of the seminar before retiring to a local restaurant for a meal, one which I enjoyed, I came away from this team building exercise with some thoughts that validated my ingrained cynicism. I also came away with some perceptions and insights. In all the ‘three steps to success’ and ‘dream it and achieve it’ exhortations being pandered to the massive auditorium full of starry-eyed salespeople and entrepreneurs, I could, with little imagination, picture myself in typical Joel  Osteenesque mega-church where the greatest sin perhaps is not living up to your potential and achieving your dreams. With tangible irony, Schuller, a minister ostensibly of the Protestant faith, his church financially and spiritually bankrupt, was the first to speak. While trotting out iterations of his thread-bare “If you can dream it, you can do it!” schtick, I was thinking to myself, you are lying, you bankrupt minister. Try hard as they might, not everyone gets to be an astronaut when they grow up. Sometimes life, Providence, puts you in a place from which you cannot escape. Preach your positive-thinking to an inner-city gang of youths and tell me how it floats with them. Try motivating someone impoverished in Africa, dying of AIDS. Trot out your spiel in North Korea. Such positive-thinking rhetoric only works for those who really have a chance at your definition of success to begin with. It offers no hope, or false hope to many.

What I mulled over, also, was the meaning of success in this success-drenched circus. The making of more money was always an underlying goal, and not necessarily a bad one. Success was at times defined as having lofty goals and putting plans in place to achieve them, perhaps despite daunting obstacles, and again, not necessarily a bad thing. We were given three steps to achieve this and five steps to achieve that, and until then, it had never dawned on me that this uniquely American vision of success was apparently so easy as to be distilled into kindergarten platitudes. I mentally palmed myself on the forehead upon that epiphany. But what I really arrived at was the conclusion that, by their definition of success, I am a loser. I have no overarching goals other than to work with my mind and hands to provide for my family, perhaps enjoy the fruits of my labor now and again, and help those in need. I have no goals or desires of ticking off entries on some bucket list. I want to live honestly, not worrying about money because I have little to worry about (at least my American standards – big picture – I am stinking filthy rich). If you say you trust in a God Who says He will provide for His children’s basic necessities, then you should be content with that.

Having money to retire on was a goal spoken of at times. As I look back down the corridors of the past, I dawns on me that only in recent western history has the concept of not having to work during your latter productive years so has to enjoy a perennial vacation been the common expectation. We either put money aside to retire on, sacrificing during our now for a hoped-for leisurely later, or our employer pays a lifelong pension. Again, retirement is fine, but it not an entitlement. It never has been over the course of history. I think of that laying up of treasures on earth with the rust and moths and thieves thing the Jewish King and carpenter spoke of. While it is wise and prudent to put aside money for a rainy day and hard times, do we really need to plan on not having to work for thirty years? I will work till I cannot. There is, I think, honor in that. Without regard to the market, I refuse to worry about money or spend substantial amount of time thinking about it. If that makes me a failure, I will wear that label proudly. I could pontificate ad nausea, but enough for now……

Chapter Four….being completely honest with myself…

What follows may be considered to be the long-threatened sequel to An Ecclesiastical Journey

I think it may be the curse of the spiritually malcontent and damaged to feel, at times, abandoned by God. Such is the stuff of classical myths and disaffected youth. I have my own narrative about such things.

I was raised in a searingly, achingly, persistently dysfunctional environment beset, surrounded by mental illness, apathy, weakness, and tangible evil in those that should have nurtured me. I do not want to go into deep details for various reasons, nor do I want to come across as much of a whiner seeking the role of the victim, but the hard truth is that one would be hard pressed to erect a more effective framework within which to emotionally and psychologically and permanently cripple a bright, introspective, and creative child. Moved from town to town seventeen times by the time I was eighteen often under great duress and instability, I knew neither mentor, protector, or friend. My refuge was books and music. The most difficult aspect of growing up in such circumstances for me was the sense that, though I often cried out, often tearfully, to God for help, stability, for rescue, He never seemed to provide the help or shelter I craved.

Therein one finds those divine abandonment issues. I was, however, fairly relentless in seeking concourse with God albeit with some frustration. I grew up feeding myself spiritually the best I could without much benefit from the church, and along the way picked up some erroneous doctrine. The few times in my youth that I bumped into the church, I usually ended up in the presence of aberrational and strange charismatic mania  that did me no good.

Years flow by, the past is buried and compressed, and after marriage and fatherhood, the journey towards God becomes more focused. As I moved from a liberal church to a seeker-sensitive church, and then, to a more Christ-centered reformed theology, I came to a more profound understanding of the sovereignty and grace of God and my own sinfulness. Such a deeper understanding of God’s sovereignty, at first, gave me great solace in knowing that God not only was aware of my struggles with my dysfunctional past, with my sin, with my weakness, but He was in control of such and would use them to grow me into Christ-likeness and for His glory. All good and fine….but….not so long ago a perfect multi-front storm of stressors arose, and along with my years of struggling with depression and anxiety, I found myself unable to cope with circumstances. My brain’s serotonin level had became woefully deficient to the point I could not think, could not perform at work, could not interact with others. I crashed so hard and damaged everything that was of value to me. Too, and quite importantly, the church I was involved in, and really no fault of their own, was one of the major factors of my slow-motion, substained crash.

Eventually, I ended up taking a week or so off from work, sought professional help (which, over time, wasn’t very helpful, quite honestly), and began taking an SSRI in the form of an antidepressant called Paxhil. I also found I suffered, as per professional diagnosis, from social anxiety disorder (though I suspected Aspergers Syndrome – but you cannot always trust online mental health diagnostics), post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, and clinical depression, all of which I had often self-medicated with (mostly) modest amounts of alcohol. After the passage of some time and as my serotonin levels normalized, I was able to function once again, but damage had been done both at work and home and church. Embarrassment and shame were, and remain, my constant shadows. Eventually, I weened myself off Paxhil, experiencing disturbing lucid dreams and nightmares at night and dizziness during the day in the process, all the while trying to be a good father, husband and employee.

Where this all has led me is to a post-Paxhil, post-church place where I feel as if I have been rebooted, as it were. Much of the mental malware that has belabored me for a lifetime seems to be gone and I feel more whole and assured  and fearless than I ever have in my life, but what seems to have been lost is an innocent, childlike faith in God I experienced for a short few years not too long ago. I do not believe I can lean on the Creator completely anymore. I intellectually acknowledge that He is trustworthy, but that perhaps I am, in His good sovereignty, more a vessel molded for dishonor rather than honor. Perhaps I never really believed like I thought I did. I affirm that He works out all things for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose, but now and in light of His seeming absence through much of the course of my 50+ years, I question my love for Him and I question that I am called according to His purpose. Inversely, I question that He has for me anything other than common grace. Quite honestly, I know I do not deserve even that.

In an earlier post, I cryptically alluded to the fact that I may change the direction of this blog due to certain issues, and all the aforementioned is why. Perhaps I will occasionally blog on theological things while I remain in this state of flux, but I may, for a while, let the blog drift into other directions and interests.

I must affirm that I have no significant intellectual issues with orthodox Christianity. I cannot walk away from the real and historical nature of the resurrection of the Christ. I cannot walk away from the natural revelation of the Creator. I would be intellectually dishonest to wed myself to evolutionary thought. If I could honestly do so, quite frankly, my internal tensions would not be so intense. It would be  relatively easy for me to be agnostic at this point and stage. However, things are too complex to take that easy route.

Quite honestly, if anyone wants to correct my thinking, call me out on anything that I have written here, slap me around a bit to knock some sense into me, please go ahead. I did not get to this point overnight. I have been drifting in this direction for quite a while, in all truthfulness,  and I would love to be in another place, as it were. All that being said, my one real theological hope is this: even though I do not like where my head is at spiritually right now, I cannot walk away from the fact that God is sovereign. If he so pleases, He will bring me to a place of trust, and it will be through His effort, not mine, and I will be the wiser for it. If He does not please to do so, I will enjoy His common grace knowing that He is Creator, not me, and in my falleness, I deserve no better than what I get. I believe – I think, help me in my unbelief. What will chapter five bring? I hope a renewed faith.

If it were laid upon me….

I sat on this post for awhile due to the issues described  here,  internally debating whether or not I should post it. After all, how could I authentically speak to issues of ecclesiology if I struggled with doubts of even belonging to the church militant?  Without regards to such issues, I decided to unveil my thoughts, anyway.

If I ever were to pastor a church, which would only happen if God has a great sense of irony and loves to use the weak, the foolish, those prone to sin and despises it, and those with no leadership or interpersonal skills, these are some things I would insist upon:

• Sundays would not be a polished affair with state-of-the-art audio and visual accouterments. Musical instruments would probably be in the back of the church. Focus is to be on the Word unfolded so as to feed the sheep, not on a musical performance.  I would refuse to play any music that was programmed to draw in people who would not otherwise go to church.

• I would never, never, never, ever lay the burden of the  tithe, an unbiblical practice as taught by the contemporary church,  upon the sheep. I will not pastor over the church of Galatia. There would be relatively few sermons or speeches on financial stewardship. Though important, you don’t need Jesus to teach you to balance your checkbook and save for a rainy day. Plus…I am not so good with money, myself. It just does not mean that much to me as it does others.

• I would probably be bi-vocational.

• There would be no sermons with seven steps to this or five keys to that. Legalism lite leads to Jesus lite. Legalism is a path that leads to Hell

• I would do my best to talk a lot about Christ using few if any personal anecdotes. I want you to learn about the Messiah, not about me. If I cannot teach redemptive Biblical history, the historical and true story of Christ alone, by faith alone, by grace alone, by the authority of the Bible alone, to the glory of God alone without telling stories about me and my life experience (boring thought it would be), I do not need to claim to be a pastor. If I ever become a pastor, which is highly unlikely,  I will not be there to entertain you. When I die, I would just as soon be forgotten then be remembered as having been a charismatic leader.

• I would not ask for your personal testimonies, though you are certainly free to share – but, foremost, tell me Christ’s story in church, not yours. Your changed life, though I am happy for you, is not necessarily the Gospel. Paxil changes lives, AA changes lives, art changes lives, Mormonism has changed lives for the better. The Gospel story is what breaths life into rotten corpses. The apostle Peter probably had many interesting stories, but he told Christ’s story every time, all the time.

• There would never, never, ever be any altar call nor any other crass emotional manipulation of the flock. If Jesus and the apostles did not need them, then neither do I need that extra-biblical and rather recent and often detrimental appendage to the Gospel call. No. Sappy. Music. In. Church. Ever. Too, why do I need to close my eyes and bow my head during altar calls? Seriously….

• I would seek to heal you with the Gospel rather the Law. Too many preachers wield the Law like an anvil against the sheep when a salve of grace is called for.

• Preaching would be mostly expostional. Exceptions to expostional preaching might entail, for example, teaching about the lives and doctrines of the early church fathers and martyrs. I would also like to learn and teach on church history. Doing a class on systematic theology in the evenings would be cool, too. Theology is a fundamental part of the church. If I ever pastored a church, it would be lovingly doctrinal. Doctrine is the spine and immune system of the church.

• I would strongly discourage the turning of hobbies into ministries. You like to golf, hunt, and ride motorcycles. Such is fine with me; just don’t baptize them. Let me know when you want to go for a ride though. It would be fun to join with you.

• The crippled, the poor, the mentally ill and emotionally scarred, those not so articulate would welcomed and embraced.   Along the same lines, introverts are welcome and loved. I understand because I am an introvert, too. If you are uncomfortable in certain social circumstances, we can fellowship, you and me, over a cup of coffee or can of beer where ever you are most comfortable. I personally like sweet tea. Occasionally, a shot or two of Evan Williams is fine. Church is not easy, sometimes, for introverts.

• I would insist that the elders and teachers hold the the Doctrines of Grace. If not, you can be a part of the church, cherished and loved deeply, but never teach.

• No. Skits. Ever. No drama teams, either. You want drama, entertainment, go to a theater. The Word, being potent in and of itself, does not need our help. Drama merely adds extraneous layers. As an aside, it amazes me that people can feel comfortable playing the role of Christ in musical dramas and plays. I recall Peter requesting his body to be crucified upside down because he deemed himself to be unworthy to be crucified in the fashion of the Messiah.

• I would not make too big a deal about secondary issues such as eschatology, though they would not be ignored.

• Communion would be a real meal, I think, not a piece of bread or a plastic shot glass of grape juice. Wine would be available if desired. I also am not wed to the amount of water used in baptisms. Sprinkle or dunk, I can accommodate either. No major problems with either paedo and credo-baptism. I see valid Biblical arguments for either, though I lean towards credo-baptism.

• I would never say, as many do from the stage and pulpit, that I would not sacrifice my family for of the church, though I would hope I would never face such circumstances. Such statements, though common, seem strange and present a hopefully false dichotomy. I would die a thousand times for the church of the Christ. If my wife or children are not with me on this, then they turn their backs on the bride and body of Christ. I would not.

• I will not be a Christian culture warrior, ever. I will not try to dress unregenerate corpses up with the Law when they need the Gospel. You want a moral nation above all, have Utah succeed and move there. They are nice, family-friendly, moral people even without the Gospel delivered by the apostles. I would never preach pure moralism. It is the anti-thesis of grace.

• Children will not have to go to kids church when big people church starts if the family wants their children to be with them. Distractions are OK, to a degree, and a part of life, and a part of the body, a part of families. You hear me on this one Furtick and Noble​? I will not force families to split up when the preaching starts. Shame on you, Furtick, for removing Christ from your service for being a distraction to your show…..as you do the the least of these……

• I would probably not let my church grow much beyond 200 people if I had such control. Should it do so, and this would be a great thing, we split into two sister churches, each with trained and approved elders and pastors. If a pastor cannot at least recognize his sheep, he needs to have others step up to help feed, lead and shelter the flock. Move half of them to another pasture.  Keep growing the flock, and then splitting off to new pastures.

• Naive on my part, perhaps, but I would hope the hypothetical church I fed would not be success oriented with tangible metrics. Leave that for businesses. I would not count salivations. That is no ones job but the Holy Spirits; no one else is qualified to separate wheat from chaff. I would hope we would have an orientation of humility. If the seats are filled, fine. If not, fine. It will be Christ who grows His church, not me.

• I would literally die to protect my sheep from wolves, from bad theology. You will not see Wild At Heart or The Shack as recommended reading the churches library. I would never endorse heretics like TD Jakes as have many nominally orthodox pastors.

• I would never, ever have a fund raiser. If someone is in deep financial need, I would sell my possessions, give up vacations, and work overtime to help you. I hope the flock would do the same. Saddest thing I have seen in a long time is a large, evidently wealthy church holding a bake sale fund raiser for a child needing surgery.

• If you want to volunteer to help in the church, that is great. If not, that is fine with me, too. I know your probably work hard to support your family and need no extra burdens. Quite frankly, when you get rid of all the extraneous parking teams, media teams, creative teams, hospitality teams, volunteer coordination team volunteers, you find you do not need volunteers so much.

• Small groups, meh. I have seen them too often be pools of ignorance to which, not so long ago, I helped make even more deeply ignorant. If we do small groups, it will be elder led and Word focused. They are what you make of them.

• If you want a God of second chances, go to where the Gospel is light and cheap. I will give you a Gospel for dead men and women who float hopeless in the dark waters. They don’t need second chances. I, and they, would mess up the second chance, and the third, and the forth. I will point you to a Savior, to paraphrase Paul Capon, if memory serves, who dives into deep water to breath life into sin infused, rotten corpses, dies in the process, and later appears on the shore alive and waits for you having defeated death and sin.

Enough of my orthopraxic utopianism…

Perhaps just for awhile

To the few who read this blog on a regular basis, there may be a change of its core content and in its direction for a while as I work through some rather difficult theological issues and wrestle with some personal issues that are fellow travelers with the aforementioned and unmentioned theological issues.

What I hope may eventually be birthed from this caldron is perhaps chapter four of An Ecclesiastical Journey, something I have been wanting to do for quite a while. I hope for a more firmly grounded faith. On the other hand, I may end up in another space altogether as I try piece some foundational things back together.  Failing to find a way to do so will leave me with no option but to sadly walk away from what I have held dear for the last few years. What I will journey to if I cannot piece it all together, well I am not so sure.

Cryptic, I know, and I could ramble on, but that is the best I can do for now.

In the interim, I may do some more writing on evolution, Darwinism, ID and creationism. I may also indulge in more hobby related blogging. Time will tell.

Finding A Waterfall

Finally, closure. First, YouTube informed me that the video was a bit too long, so I edited out about 10 minutes. Next, I embedded music (selections from the album Banba by Clannad) and was informed by YouTube the music was copyrighted. Even though I am a bit new at producing and uploading videos to YouTube, I should have considered both issues before uploading. Eventually, I decided upon some public domain ambient music that sounds a bit derivative of Brian Eno’s compositions to accompany the video, and I think it works well with the video to set the desired ambiance. Also, I had no idea I made such strained and unflattering facial expressions while paddling. I tried, but I could not bend Windows Live Movie Maker to my will to edit out those painful to watch segments. That all being said,I hope you enjoy this amateurish production as much as I enjoy producing it.

So, I got this camera recently….

You get a new hammer, everything looks like a nail. You get a new video camera, you think you are Stanley Kubrick, Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola all rolled up into one.

Amateurish, but endearingly crude and uninspired…

Son provides camera work while I tactically, accurately, and quickly place rounds in the dirt backstop.

Dicing with my son. My skill behind the wheel….If you are patient, there are some inspired effects towards the end…

Of all the video on Youtube, these are some of them…

Agent of the Z.H.A.

Me doing my thing…

…protecting kith and kin, neighbors and countrymen,  from the zombie menace.

My son and me…on a camping trip…He thinks he is Edvard Munch

Photobombed by my son….