A Few Of My Favorite Things (From 2014)

I've always liked lists--top ten lists, to-do lists, grocery lists.  I realize that this is probably an indication that I am a tremendous nerd, but I remain unapologetic in my love of lists.  For all the other list-lovers out there, I offer up a brief list of the top books, movies, and music that challenged and inspired me in 2014 as I read, watched, or listened to them.  

 Nonfiction:  Confessions by Augustine of Hippo

Although Augustine's autobiography was written more than 1,500 years ago, it feels eerily relevant in our post-modern era.  Written as a prayer to God, Augustine recounts the emptiness that he encountered trying to find meaning in the entertainment, sexual promiscuity, and relativistic philosophies of his culture.  He wrestles, in ancient Rome, with the same dilemmas and temptations that we face in contemporary America and, ultimately, he finds fulfillment and meaning only in the person of Jesus Christ.  Nearly every theologian and autobiographical author in the past thousand years has borrowed or stolen a great deal from Augustine, which is a testimony to his great brilliance as a thinker and writer.

Fiction:  Silence by Shusaku Endo

I was profoundly challenged and troubled by this novel (after finishing it, I laid awake for several hours thinking about the questions that it raised).  Written by a Japanese Catholic, the story follows a group of Portuguese missionaries who travel to 17th century Japan to investigate reports that their mentor has apostatized and denied his faith.  What they find is more troubling than they could ever have imagined.  Endo asks important questions about how Christianity can fit into Eastern culture, where God is the midst of suffering and, ultimately, about what it means to follow Christ.  The answer to these questions is ambiguously hinted at, but readers are left to sort through the clues and implications and to examine themselves for the answers.

Film:  The Kid With a Bike by Jeanne Pierre and Luc Dardenne

It is a Belgian film with subtitles, but don't let that keep you from putting it in your Netflix queue.  This heart-wrenching and hopeful tale of shattered innocence and redemption has one of the clearest portrayals of stubborn and unconditional grace that I have ever seen.  God is not mentioned verbally in the film, but His love is evident in the characters and events that unfold. The story is moving, the cinematography is gorgeous, and the acting is superb.

Music:  Instruments of Mercy by Beautiful Eulogy

Lyrically intelligent and aesthetically excellent, this Portland hip-hop trio mixes theological insight with creative beats and ambient instrumentation to create something utterly unique.  The group wears their Reformed theology prominently on their sleeve, basically rapping through Calvin's "Institutes of the Christian Religion," but it comes across much more worshipful than preachy.  You can't help but walk away from a listen with a sense of awe at the grace of God (and maybe a catchy beat or two stuck in your head).

What pieces of literature or art moved you this past year?  I'd love to hear!

Some Biblical Statements About Suicide

I apparently haven't added a blog in close to two years, but I felt compelled back into the "blogosphere" by a number of comments that I have seen floating around social media in the wake of Robin Williams' suicide.  First of all, I sincerely grieve the loss of a human life, a very talented actor, and one of the funniest men on the face of the earth.  During some of my most formative years, I soaked up both the hilarity and poignancy of movies like "Good Morning Vietnam," "Mrs. Doubtfire," and "The Dead Poets' Society."  Robin Williams had the ability to make me both laugh and cry within a matter of minutes.  He will be missed.

In the wake of Mr. Williams' suicide, I also grieve some of the statements that I have seen Christians make about depression and suicide, and some of the misunderstandings that my non-Christian friends have expressed toward Christians.  While I cannot claim to speak for all Christians on the matter, I thought it would be beneficial to try to make a clear statement about suicide from a biblical Christian viewpoint.  I'll do this by attempting to answer three questions:

1.  Does the Bible talk about suicide?   The Bible records God's long term plan to redeem messy broken people from the messy brokenness that they have fallen (or plunged themselves headlong) into.  As such, it records and addresses a lot of messy subjects, including suicide and depression.  Saul, the first king of Israel committed suicide (or at least attempted it) by falling on his own sword (I Samuel 31:4), Zimri, another king of Israel burned himself alive inside his own palace when he feared that he would lose his kingdom (I Kings 16:18), the hero Samson chose to wreak revenge on his enemies one last time, even though he knew it would mean destroying his own life as well (Judges 16:28-30).  Perhaps most famously, Jesus' disciple Judas committed suicide by hanging himself after suffering intense guilt and shame over betraying Jesus (Matthew 27:3-5).  It must be noted that, in all of these instances, the details of the suicide are simply stated as they happened with little or no moral comments about the actions themselves.  We would have a hard time drawing a strong biblical doctrine based on these passages alone.

The Bible also refuses to shy away from the reality of depression, which is sometimes a large prompting factor in suicide.  While they never took action on their feelings, such heroes of the faith as Elijah, Job, David, and Paul "despaired of life" and even prayed for death at different points in their lives and ministries (see I Kings 19:4, Job 3:11-13, and 2 Samuel 18:33, and 2 Corinthians 1:8).  All of this is to say that the Bible is not a sterile book far removed from the realities of human suffering, even the deepest kinds of suffering--God knows how messy and broken we are (and He has chosen to do something drastic to remedy our messiness and brokenness--but that is another topic).

2.  Does the Bible make any statements about the moral implications of suicide?  Quite simply, yes.  One of the basic assertions of God, who created human life, is that human life is precious.  "You shall not murder" (Exodus 20:13).  Human beings were made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27) and granted the gift of life from God (Genesis 2:7), therefore human life belongs to God alone and no human being has the right to take life--another's life or his own life.  This becomes doubly true for a follower of Jesus Christ, because "your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you . . . you are not your own" (I Corinthians 6:19)  In this sense, we must affirm that suicide is indeed a sin against God.  Suicide is a form of murder--the murder of oneself, and as such, it is an act to be resisted and rejected with as much horror as any other murder would be resisted and rejected.  There is no significant moral difference between me claiming my neighbors life because I hate him and me claiming my own life because I hate myself (or for any other reason).  Naming suicide as a sin and offense against God naturally leads to the last question.

3.  Is a person who has committed suicide automatically damned to hell?  Once again, the biblical answer can be stated simply:  No.  Nowhere in the Bible will you find the teaching that suicide is a unique and unforgivable sin that would prevent a person who has placed their faith in Jesus Christ from entering into the salvation that Christ has achieved for them.  In fact, the Bible is very clear about the fact that there is only one thing that keeps people from entering into salvation:  "God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.  Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God" (John 3:17-18).  The singular act that will prevent a person from receiving salvation and eternal life is not a sin or sins (not even murder or suicide) but a rejection of and refusal to believe  in, trust in, and submit to Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord.

There will be murderers in heaven (Moses, David, and the apostle Paul were all murderers) because salvation is not based on what we have done, but on what Jesus has done for us, and I fully expect to see brothers and sisters in Christ who have committed suicide in heaven as well.  I do not know whether Mr. Williams ever trusted in Jesus and received salvation by faith through grace (I pray that he did), but for those who have placed their faith in Christ, I praise the Lord that nothing, not even an act of sin as seemingly final as suicide, is able to separate us from the love of God that is in Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 8:39).

Book of the Month: "The Book of Revelation" Graphic Novel

I have a confession to make:  I got in a bit over my head on this book of the month thing.  I'm currently wrestling through a pretty complex and philosophical work that I don't see myself finishing within the month, so I decided to cheat a bit, and offer a review of a shorter graphic novel--"The Book of Revelation" translated by Mark Arey and Philemon Svastiades, adapted by Matt Dorff and illustrated by Chris Koelle.

The book is a graphic interpretation of the New Testament book of Revelation--it contains a new translation of the full text of Revelation with multi-panel and full page illustrations to supplement the text.  I purchased the book because I am familiar with the work of illustrator Chris Koelle who has produced some of my favorite contemporary Scripture based artwork (see "The History of Redemption" www.historyofredemption.org for a few examples).  Koelle has a fascinating ability to synthesize ancient Christian art and modern graphic design techniques and principles to communicate the ideas and emotions behind God's Word.  Here are a few thoughts about the work:

MY MAJOR RESERVATION:  As a follower of Jesus and a life-long student of the Bible, I take Scripture seriously.  I believe that it is God's Word in the most literal sense possible, inspired and authoritative.  That being the case, I am a little uncomfortable with messing with Scripture in any way-- particularly messing with a book that explicitly says, "if anyone adds anything to [the words of this book], God will add to him the plagues described in this book."  Revelation 22:18.  That's a serious warning, and I wondered if it was wise to add illustrations to a book that pushes the limits of imagination, let alone depiction.

Ultimately, I am comfortable with the idea, because the book reverently submits the artwork to the text, making the words of the Scripture central.  In fact, I would say, the book is much like one of the Bible commentaries that I find so useful.  It places the inspired Scripture in front of us and and offers some historical, cultural, or linguistic thoughts which are not inspired, but may be nonetheless true, and helpful for bringing us to a deeper understanding of the inspired words.  I came to think of "The Book of Revelation" graphic novel as a commentary that used pictures instead of words to offer the illustrator's insight into Scripture.

MY NIT-PICKY COMPLAINT:  The book contains the text of a new translation of the ancient Greek manuscripts of the book of Revelation.  The translators' credentials for producing a new version of the text are not listed in the book, but based on a lot of personal study of the book of Revelation, it seems to be a decent translation. I did have a few nit-picky complaints--for example, instead of translating Jesus' promise to the church of Pergamum in Revelation 2:17 as the receipt of a "white stone," the translators make it a "white writ of acquittal."  That is one valid interpretation of what the white stone might mean but it is not what the original Greek says.  I prefer translations that, as much as possible, keep within the limits of the language and don't stray into interpreting the ideas.

Now that I've bored you with nit-picky translation notes, let me get to the good stuff:

MY RECOMMENDATION:  The book is fantastic.  I read through all 22 chapters of the book of Revelation in about an hour and a half on a Friday night (not something I'm sure I would have accomplished, had there not been supplementary illustrations).  I've studied and read the book of Revelation so many times that I think I had grown a bit numb to the beauty and terror, hope and horror within the pages.  It is truly a gripping picture of the culmination of history and the ultimate and inevitable victory and rule of Jesus Christ.  The illustrations consistently portray Jesus as the central figure of history, whether He be the suffering Servant of the cross, the conquering Lamb at the center of heaven's worship, or the celestial indisputable King of the cosmos.  Although no form of art could do justice to the glory and beauty of Christ, Koelle does a fantastic job of reminding us that Jesus is more noble, powerful, and wonderful than we may have remembered.  I was also reminded of how terrible God's wrath will be on those who resist the rule of His Son.  It's been quite a while since I've felt the level of horror in the book of Revelation that I saw portrayed in the pictures.  As disturbing as some of the images may be, however, the illustrator remains careful not to stray into gratuitous violence or gore.  The horror and judgment of the sinful world is more implied than explicitly sketched out.  I was even impressed by the depiction of the angels--I tend to imagine angels as fairly innocuous beings (like people with wings).  Koelle however illustrates them as fierce passionate otherworldly beings--creatures that would truly have to remind us not to be afraid if we encountered them.

In the end, I think the best parts of the book were not the fantastic images of demonic locusts, seven headed dragons, and worldwide cataclysms (although it was fascinating to see how these complex characters and events were depicted), but the nuanced reactions of the author, John, as he beholds and records His vision.  John is shown responding in dumbstruck awe, in disgust, in terror, and in overwhelming joy.  He tearfully embraces Jesus like an old friend.  He stands shell-shocked by the glories of heaven.  He recoils in disgust at the prostitute, Babylon who seduces the earth.  And as I observed John's reactions, so vividly drawn, I remembered that I too am asked to react to what God is revealing here.  I too am to enter into a thankful embrace of Jesus, a deep awe of the glories of God, a bitter disgust at the nature and consequences of sin.  And to that end-- to the purpose of entering just a little further into the beautiful story of what Jesus Christ has done, what He is doing, and, ultimately, what He will do--I can recommend this wonderful little piece of art.

Radioactive Mutant Zombies and Joy

My middle daughter spurns the idea of "fitting in."  When her class was issued a school project involving dressing up like a Bible character and presenting an oral report on that character, I assume that most of the girls chose Esther and will show up at school in a sparkling princess dress and crown.  My daughter, out of sheer stubbornness, chose Balaam's donkey.  I wasn't sure whether to be proud, or irritated, but I found myself driving her to the costume shop on the night before Halloween in an attempt to find donkey ears and a tail.  

The shop was a wasteland of picked over shelves and tired irritated employees who were exasperated by the constant stream of last minute shoppers who were clogging the aisles, and yelling at their children, their spouses, or their parents.  We squeezed between a six foot tall robotic grim reaper statue and a couple who were having an unusual amount of difficulty deciding which kind of fake blood to purchase.  Overhead was an enormous "radioactive mutant zombie decoration" oozing neon pus.  Amid the commotion and gore, my daughter tugged on my sleeve.  "I don't like this place," she whispered.  I didn't care much for it either.  That crowded aisle stood for everything distasteful about Halloween to me--the rampant mindless consumerism, the preoccupation with the violent and macabre, the insistence on creating a supernatural realm without any moral governance or order.  I could understand why Christians would opt out of the celebration altogether.

That was last night.  This evening, I took my daughters out trick-or treating.  Everybody in our neighborhood was out of their houses, congregating in the street, smiling and greeting one another.  I talked with neighbors I hardly ever see and some that I've never met before as our children ran up and down sidewalks squealing with joy at the latest gifts of candy they had been granted.  An elderly African American woman made small talk with me while an Asian man over-generously filled my children's buckets with candy that he spent a good portion of his paycheck on.    An astonishing number of people took time  to address and compliment each of my children individually.    There was a palpable sense of community and connection--of kindness, generosity, and even joy.  I could understand why Christians work to redeem this strange slice of culture for Jesus. 

I recognize that Halloween is a polarizing issue among Christians.  I'm not attempting to defend or attack the holiday.  I see valid points on both sides of the argument.  I think that most of the modern cultural elements of Halloween--dressing up, trick-or-treating, carving pumpkins, etc. tend to fall squarely into the realm of "disputable matters" which Paul mentions in Romans chapter 12.  "Whatever you believe about these things," Paul admonishes us, "keep between yourself and God."  That's a wise command, although we have a terrible time keeping it.

It takes a supernatural wisdom to sort through all the details of life on this good but fallen planet.  It's a good thing we have the Holy Spirit to lead us through these dangerous and confusing territories.  In the meantime,  may God give us wisdom to reject what is evil and accept what is good as a gift from Him.

The F-Bomb and Thinking About Our Words

I downloaded Mumford and Sons new album "Babel" on a trusted recommendation.  I couldn't even make it more than a few songs into the album without hitting repeat.  The music was fantastic--like a British arena rock band got into a bottle-smashing fight with a bluegrass quintet in some quaint Irish pub.  While the music was what got my attention, it was the lyrics that really began to stick with me--they were rife with biblical imagery (starting with the title track which references the tower of Babel in Genesis 11).  The songs consistently speak in the language of Christian theology about brokenness, sin and the need for redemption--and the idea that redemption can only be received as a gift, by grace.  All, in all, many of the lyrics appeared to be more "Christian" than those of many bands marketed specifically to Christian audiences.  Then came a jarring song late in the album, when frontman Marcus Mumford suddenly dropped the f-bomb--repeatedly.
It's a frustrating and bewildering choice of language that has been made by several of my favorite "not-christian-christian-bands" (U2, Over The Rhine) forcing me to retire their albums from my playlists for the duration of my daughters' childhood years and, perhaps, beyond.

I hope I'm not being legalistic in my discomfort with certain words.  I know that the Bible never says, "thou shalt not use the f-bomb in thy speech (nor listen to music nor watch movies that do)."  I understand that at any given moment, God is infinitely more concerned with what is happening in my heart than what syllables are being formed on my tongue.  I know many musicians, artists, and communicators (some of them Christian) have no problem with using harsh language.  Profanity, they would say, as I recall Bono saying one time, is just the percussive section of language.  Words are just words, and sometimes unsettling, jarring language is required to communicate unsettling, jarring ideas and to shake people from complacency.  I understand that idea, but I don't know that I agree.

Proverbs 18:21 tells us that "the tongue has the power of life and death."   James elaborates on this concept with a somber warning:  "the tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body.  It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell" (3:6--extreme, I know, but I didn't say it--James did!).  Neither of these verses are speaking specifically about profanity, but they both affirm an idea which we are prone to forget--words are not, indeed "just words."  They are not inconsequential pebbles that we can toss around without thought--they are more like sticks of dynamite, objects which can be used responsibly for great good or irresponsibly for great harm.

As followers of Jesus, our words become instruments which we can play for God's glory, or tools which we can use to build God's kingdom.  That's why Paul encourages Timothy to "set an example for the believers in speech"  focusing his words on sharing Scripture and teaching people about God (I Timothy 4:12-13).  That's why the Colossians are admonished to think about what words they use in their day to day speech, especially with those outside of the faith:  "let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt" (4:5-6).  We are to think about our speech, they way a gourmet chef thinks about a dish they are making--we are to season it so that it always taste like the delicious grace of God expressed in Jesus.  Scripture also reminds us that as followers of Jesus, we are no longer to use our speech for selfish or destructive purposes such as expressing "anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language" but rather for   teaching and encouraging one another, singing praises to God and expressing thanksgiving (Colossians 3:1-17).

I hope that God gives all of us grace and wisdom to use our words for His purposes--to build up and not to destroy.  And I hope that Mumford and Sons consider making a new album without the harsh words--I'd love to introduce my children to their music someday!

Book of the Month: Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson

It’s going to take a bit of discipline on my part, but I’m going to try to read a new book every month and throw out a few thoughts on it.  We’ll start with a bestselling biography for the most obvious of reasons:  it was given to me as a gift, and didn’t require a trip to the bookstore or library!  Here’s some thoughts on Walter Isaacson’s authorized biography Steve Jobs:

The good:  Steve Jobs, of course, was one of the original founders of Apple and one of the driving forces behind its rise to become the most valuable company in the world.  I’ve never known a world without Apple products (the Apple II computer was released the year I was born, although only a handful of people ever owned or used one).  To someone who grew up alongside the personal computer, this book was a fascinating history of the technology behind an invention that all of us now take for granted.  I now know that many of the things I keep on my desk—from my phone to my ipod to my laptop did not suddenly appear out of thin air—they were the result of incredibly creative people working incredibly hard for an incredibly long period of time.  My own work ethic was significantly challenged by Apple’s determination to work hard to make excellent and innovative products.

The salty:  If  you happen to be one of the remaining three people on earth that haven’t read it, be warned:  there is some pretty rough language and a few vulgar comments scattered throughout the book.  Most of the offensive comments are direct quotations from Jobs himself, who prided himself on his brutal (and at times sadistic) honesty toward his friends and enemies.

The sad:  One verse haunted me as I read about Job’s life:  “What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul.”  (Matthew 16:26).  Steve Jobs was arguably one of the most successful entrepreneurs of the last 50 years.  He built an enduring company that made innovative and useful products and he became very wealthy doing it, but Steve Jobs never found peace.  Early in the book, we see a young Jobs challenging the existence of God and staging a dramatic exit from his childhood church.  The book closes decades later on the eve of his death as Jobs ruminated on the odds of there being an afterlife.  I find it terribly sad that someone who led such a remarkable life never knew the hope of a salvation that outlasted this temporary life.   

The slightly creepy:  The Apple II was originally sold for $666.66, a price set by Steve Jobs himself.  Also, Steve Wozniak admitted a fascination with repeating the number 6 and chose a phone number ending in 666.  With a proliferation of outlandish guesses as to who the antichrist is, why hasn’t a pastor or television preacher ever suggested one of the founders of Apple Computers?  My guess is none of them want to give up their iPhones.

 The challenging:  The book mentions several people and companies who were offered incredible opportunities to get in on the ground floor with Apple (one poor guy signed on as a part owner, and then backed out.  He could have been a billionaire, but now lives on Social Security).  Most of these individuals shied away from the chance because they were afraid.  Computers, at that time, were for hobbyists and geeks—no one knew if there would be a broad market for them.  No one wanted to take the risk of losing money or quitting their job on a bet like that.  Even Steve Wozniak, the engineer behind the first Apples tried to play it safe, keeping his day job at Hewlitt Packard and making Apple a side hobby.  Eventually, it became clear that this was too big to be a hobby—he would have to commit wholeheartedly or step aside and let more willing engineers push forward.  He chose to take a risk, and is still reaping the rewards for that choice.  Perhaps it is a bit of a leap, but I began to examine my own faith.  Am I willing to take risks for Christ or am I content to play it safe with my faith?  Following Jesus cannot be a side hobby where I still keep my day job.  He requires laying everything else aside.  It’s a risky business, to be sure.  I could lose everything I have here on earth, but the eternal dividends are greater than any stock option Apple could ever offer.

Innocence And Andrew Peterson's (Awesome) New Album

Last fall, I watched an inmate at a maximum security prison weep.  He was a murderer, twenty years into a forty year sentence.  The reason for this uncharacteristic vulnerability—this rare show of tears—was a crayon drawing.  A six year old girl had heard that I was going to the prison to do some ministry and she had drawn pictures for the prisoners—stick figures with oversized smiles standing under sunny skies with rainbows and bouquets of flowers surrounding them.  For this particular man, the picture was devastating.  He had lived so long in a place where hopelessness, fear, and violence reigned supreme, that he had forgotten that there was such things as innocence, beauty, and joy.  The picture was, to him, both a tragic memento of what he had a lost, and a hopeful reminder that good things still exist.  He carefully folded it up as though it were an ancient treasure map, and slipped it into his pocket.

Last week, I watched as my youngest daughter celebrated her fifth birthday.  She spent the day dressed in a princess outfit, playing with dolls, singing spontaneous songs with an unashamed abandon.  She was the epitome of wide eyed innocence and untainted joy.  At one point, I began to weep, not like the inmate in memory of what he had lost, but like a father in anticipation of what my daughter would one day lose.  I knew that the day was quickly approaching when she would stop wearing princess dresses because she would fear the ridicule and mockery of her peers.  I knew that the day was coming when she would no longer play with dolls because she would be too busy worrying about how to pay the bills.  The innocence of childhood is shattered, the curse of living in a fallen world exacts its toll, and all of us-- murderers, fathers, and baby girls alike—grieve what we have lost.  There is hope, however.  There is a light for the little lost child who wanders through the darkness looking for their missing innocence.   

Andrew Peterson explores both this grief and this hope in his new album “Light For the Lost Boy.”  The album is a concept album, with most of the songs tracing the metaphor of a little boy lost in the woods looking for his way back home.  Sometimes the child is Peterson himself looking for the lost innocence of childhood, sometimes it is Peterson’s son or daughter trying to find their difficult way into adulthood, sometimes it is a literary character such as Jody Baxter, the young boy who loses his beloved childhood pet in Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings book, “The Yearling.”  In all cases, the heartache of loss is embraced fully without ever losing sight of hope and beauty.

The album starts off with “Come Back Soon,” a haunting dirge which mourns the effects of The Fall on our world and begs for the redemption that God promised.  In “The Voice of Jesus” Peterson offers comfort by assuring that Jesus walks with us as we wander in the dark woods of this world.  “Day By Day” cleverly blends Scripture with the story of a visit to Kensington Gardens (where Peter Pan was written) to remind us that perhaps the key to joy is not returning to the innocence of childhood, but pushing forward to maturity in Christ.  All the loose ends are tied up beautifully with the album closer “Don’t You Want to Thank Someone” which zeroes in on the grace of God, and offers us some serious fodder for thought:  “maybe it’s a better thing . . . to be more than merely innocent/but to be broken and redeemed by love.”   It is good and right for us to grieve our exile from Eden, but Eden was never the goal for God.  He had a better plan, a plan to make us not only perfect creations, but perfected sons and daughters.  And, yes, I do want to thank someone for that.