Typically this pits progressives and traditionalists, liberals and conservatives against each other, with worldviews that seem starkly different. I no longer see it that way.

About six months ago a friend recommended Murray Jardine’s The Making and Unmaking of Technological Society, a book that is less about technology, and more about the ethical and philosophical implications of technological advancement (Well, that’s what it’s about so far, because it’s 300 pages of indescribably small text, and I’m only halfway through).

What I’ve learned is this: whatever group you’re a part of in American politics, your worldview, at its most basic, is the same. Progressive, liberal, conservative, or traditionalist – for the American, liberty is the value that is held above all others. All groups are arguing from the same basic perspective.

Not only that, we all have the same idea of freedom. We rarely disagree when it comes to that definition. We see life for the individual as free from obligation, except to his children. And once they’re 18, that obligation is gone, as well.

This view of freedom has led to unconscionable levels of familial, social, environmental, and economic irresponsibility. And I’m only just beginning to see how deeply it has affected me, and my views on marriage, parenting, politics, theology, and ecclesiology.

If you’re not afraid to have everything you understand as an American exposed as the straw house that it is, I recommend Jardine’s book to you. ChristianBook.com has it for $1.99 at the moment, which is drastically undervaluing its importance. But it makes a great deal for anyone interested.

This is my Democrat face. Angry...and a little confused.

I have to agree, from a Democratic perspective, that the quote by — —– was out of line. Neither party is more or less Christian than the other. But the assertion that Christ didn’t say it was the government’s duty to take care of the needy is somewhat weighted. He didn’t assign any responsibilities to the governments, including the enforcement of morality. So any legislation based on His teachings falls into the same category.

I think that it is every individual’s responsibility to take care of the poor, as you said. The problem is that it’s not happening. So the next step is to put the government in charge of it. And if I’m going to be paying taxes, I’d rather they benefit poor people.

Yeah, I didn’t pay taxes. It also didn’t occur to me that the government might be more selfish and inept than the rest of us. My bad.

But as the first grieving fades, and all those people Jackson’s lawyers paid to keep quiet get other people to pay for their stories, the tabloid tattling will return. The noise should be as instructive as it is ugly. It will force Michael Jackson’s fans and foes to ask: Why must our stars fall so spectacularly and fail us so egregiously? Perhaps it’s because we want them to. Indeed, it may be the primary function of celebrities like Jackson to show us, in their early radiance, what we could dream of being – and in the murk of their decline, what we fear we could become.

As I got older I learned that I couldn’t like him that much if I wanted to be socially accepted. So I made some jokes and paid less and less attention as he got stranger and stranger. I still play his music for my son though. And I still think he was one of the best entertainers of the last 50 years, as most people in the world do, I think. I also think that the problems he’s had over the last 30 years can be laid largely at the feet of his father, and what he did in the first 10 or 15.

Michael was the most talented of his brothers, even at 6 or 7 years old. Joe made performing the family’s first priority, and Michael was the star. The group sang anywhere they could get the gig, including strip clubs. Michael was in the spotlight and under pressure to perform for the family’s success from such a young age.

His childhood was lost, and it seems like he spent his adult life trying to get it back. And no amount of money, fame, or talent could counteract the follies of a 9-year-old psyche in a 30, 40, or 50-year-old man with nearly unlimited resources. And as he became more and more outlandish, the public seemed to take more and more pleasure in ridiculing him, and it went on for years with little – if any – sympathy. As I think about it, I can hardly understand why.

Is it because he was such an easy target? He had a lot of plastic surgery, but that’s hardly unusual any more. He seemed insecure and socially inept, and couldn’t seem to interact well with adults. But based on his childhood, what more could you expect? I completely understand the fears surrounding his actions with children, but I’m inclined to think that nothing happened. Courts aren’t typically lenient on people who’ve been brought to court multiple times for similar offenses. I find it hard to believe that they would overlook any evidence after the first trial. (And why were parents letting their kids sleep there unsupervised anyway?)

His life and the ridicule directed at him are a sad commentary about American society. His life was derailed from the beginning by a parent who used his children’s talents for personal gain instead of raising them. And, to my knowledge at least, no one tried to help him later in life. Rather we took to deriding him for those faults that were created in him by others, taking morbid pleasure in the depth of his descent.

A comment from the Boing Boing post on Jackson’s death:

#15 posted by Galaxyhead, June 25, 2009 4:31 PM

The fellow’s talent and regrettable mistakes stemmed from traumatic abuse. If anything, people should view him as a pivotal example as to why we need a better understanding of the effects of emotional abuse on children, and the sometimes awful background that leads people, even those we assume to be geniuses, to commit the deviant acts we are so ready to condemn them for.

And now that he’s gone we seem to all miss him, though the question of whether most miss him more for his talent or the the target on his back is not for me to answer.

The mere act of reading good books, if you are not stopping to scrutinize the moves and tools used by the writers, examining and dissecting the choices they have made and why they work, will do nothing for you when you sit down to write. If reading good literature was enough, I would have written the Great American Novel years ago.

Each time we’ll step outside to discuss our options and the next house we’re going to see with the agent, and we’ll discuss what we liked and didn’t like, what we feel like we need in a house, and why we don’t think this one had quite enough.

And each time we’ll look at our son, who is standing (or kneeling) in the dirt, playing with a stick. He cried every time we told him that we had to get in the car, and every time we got out, the first thing he said was, “Stick!!”

I wish all I [thought I] needed was a stick and some dirt. Life would be so much easier.

A "Hopeful Skeptic" is what I'll be regarding Nick's book, if I ever dare read it.

Apparently Emergent died while I was busy with other things for the last few months. I can’t believe it! I guess I’ll do my best to keep up with the post-mortem. Well, it’s post-mortem for a few, and in the opinion of Paul Glavic, those few should “get over it”:

I don’t think Emergent Village – or general emergence, for that matter – is fizzling out. I think it’s becoming more mainstream (not to be confused with mainline), and thus has lost its subversive feel. I imagine this annoys some who had followed the emerging conversation because it was subversive and not because of its theological and ecclesial implications. To that I say, “Get over it.”

Since I graduated from college I’ve been curious as to where all of the young, passionate emergents were. I didn’t see any in Dallas or Tulsa. Sure, it’s the Bible Belt, but for a movement so explosive, it wasn’t making much impact anywhere around me.

Eventually I met Mark Riddle during an interview process. It was nice to talk to a prominent name in the movement a bit (we didn’t really hit on any real emergent topics, but it was an undercurrent of our conversation), but I wasn’t really moved. Mark’s a smart guy, but there’s no meat to the philosophy…it’s empty calories.

It’s also a movement characterized by angst, immaturity, and naivete.

Angst

Movements born of frustration are the norm. But the real and strong ones are accompanied by a solid philosophical underpinning. The American Revolution was supported by the idea of self-government; emancipation by the idea of individual liberty; women’s suffrage and civil rights by the equal worth of all people. If a movement is to be successful, it needs this type of foundation.

Immaturity

What is supporting emergent? As far as I can tell it’s the fear of choices. Julie Clawson expresses some disgust at people “who left because emergent doesn’t 1. hate women like they hate women, 2. hate gays like they hate gays, or 3. believe in a certain type of hatred of God towards Jesus on the cross (or all of the above).” What I think that really means is that those people 1. believed homosexual acts to be sin, 2. believed in different roles for men and women, and 3. held to some idea of substitutionary atonement.

The language Julie uses reminds me of a child. She appears to have no understanding of a favorite liberal word: “nuance.” It’s not her language that’s at fault, but her apparent lack of understanding of people (on the other side) and their theology. If you think something is wrong, like female leadership or same-sex relationships, you must be a misogynist and a homophobe; there’s no other possibiltiy. Children see the world in black-and-white. Adults see the extremes where appropriate, but the world is mostly shades of  gray. These are noticeably absent from much of the commentary from inside the emergent community (they pop up occasionally, but not often…check out Glavic’s post, linked above).

Naivete

Every person I’ve spoken with who is part of an emergent group is a young, disgruntled evangelical or fundamentalist. And they all seem to have stunted thinking. Some know a lot of theology, historical and contemporary. But their own positions lack logical strength and cogency. When confronted with these criticisms, the responses vary from a) “You’re approaching a postmodern problem with a modern mindset. ‘Linear’ logic is overrated,” to b) “You just don’t understand because you’re blinded by ideology.”

These disgruntled exes are so averse to the theology of their parents that they are simply convinced that whatever makes them feel better about life, and reduces conflict (with everyone other than conservatives) must be right. They have yet to understand that no matter what people believe, they’ll still sin, and that sin will hurt others. They think they can, in a few years, outdo 19 centuries of theological inquiry and debate.  And they think that with this new theology, they will change “what it means to be”…something.

There have been some beneficial contributions from the emergent movement and it’s leadership. I remember loving Brian McLaren’s More Ready than You Realize as an undergrad, and pulling some pearls from Tony Jones’s Postmodern Youth Ministry. And it’s been a great adversary to resurgent and conservative evangelicals.

But I will not be mourning it’s passing. Perhaps with the loss of its image, it will be able to pass with dignity, rather than a fitful shudder.

Some Related Links

• “The Great Disappointment (A post about Emergent)” – The post that apparently started it all, by aspiring author Nick Fiedler. The only advice I can muster is to remind you that “loosing” something means to release it. Nick means “losing.”
• “So, You’re Disappointed with Emergent…” The response from Tony Jones (who’s really too high up in this movement to be responding to a virtual unknown like Fiedler), complete with the ridiculous notion that there’s “historical perspective” to an 11-year-old theological movement.
• Jones aggregated the response to Fiedler. Most of what he posts is on the same side he is (against Fiedler), which isn’t a problem to me, because Fiedler’s a  bit unreasonable. But there’s a lot of anger there. Posturing, anger, and an attempt to convince readers that they don’t care what posers think of them, they’re in it on principle. I think they do care, though. Just a hunch.

Best Friends

I don’t have a lot of deep, meaningful friendships. This isn’t really an accident, since I feel that we were only meant to be truly, truly close to a few people. Even Jesus couldn’t bond deeply with all of the Apostles. It’s also hard work to make relationships work, and I’m kind of lazy that way.

But one of the biggest obstacles to deep friendship is openness. It’s just difficult to open up to someone and let them know you. Most of the time I just don’t want to. And even when I want to, I worry.

I’ve got issues and a big mouth, and letting those two things out of the box terrifies me. When I’m with “people” I keep my business my business, and I keep a tight, tight reign on my tongue. And if I’m going to be close friends with someone, I need to be able to relax.

That means I need to be able to share what’s going on in my life that I usually keep private, but I also have to feel comfortable saying what I’m feeling, what I’m thinking, and my honest opinions. And I have to know that the other person will do the same.

I recently heard someone quoted as saying that as Christian friends we should “walk on eggshells” around each other. Specifically that if we think that something we believe might offend someone – or if they disagree – we should keep it to ourselves.

How can you build a relationship like that? If I know that you are going to withold any opinions that aren’t agreeable to mine, then I will never know you. This doesn’t sound like friendship to me, it sounds like small talk. And I’ve already got more than enough of that in my life.

The original has been open since 1951. It’s this little shack with about 4 tables inside on the crookedest concrete floor you’ve ever seen. The burgers were perfect, the fries were thin, golden brown, and perfectly cooked. And, well, that’s all you look for, right? Sure, they have salads and chicken, but who goes to a place called Burger House for that?

I’m not really sure what it is, but the whole experience of reading changes when it’s from a well-bound book. It’s kind of like seeing a movie in a theater. But the difference between a theater and your living room is palpable: the others in the audience provide energy, to screen is big enough to fill most of your field of vision and distractions are minimized, and the sound system is (usually) great. But the feeling of holding a book is less tangible.

It’s not just the paper, because reading computer printouts just isn’t the same. It isn’t the size, or shape, because the experience is similar with photobooks, graphic novels, and text books as it is with typical hardcovers.

Maybe it’s the isolation – my book is self contained, and when I’m reading it I’m not plugged in, I’m not relying on batteries or networks. It’s just me and the author’s thoughts.  Maybe it’s the understanding that I’m taking part in what, either printed by hand or machine, has been the primary way of reading for hundreds of years. Or maybe I just like the way they feel. I’m not  sure.

The only thing I do know is that I like books, and I hope they’re around for a while.

Joshua sent men from Jericho to Ai. … Then they returned to Joshua. They said, “The whole army doesn’t have to go up and attack Ai.” … So only about 3,000 men went up. But the men of Ai drove them away. …

The LORD said to Joshua, … “Israel has sinned. … They have taken some of the things that had been set apart to me in a special way to be destroyed. They have stolen. They have lied. … That is why the men of Israel can’t stand up against their enemies.” …

Joshua spoke to Achan. … “Tell me what you have done.” …

Achan replied, “It’s true! I’e sinned against the LORD. … I saw a beautiful robe from Babylonia among the things we had taken. I saw five pounds of silver. And I saw a gold bar that weighed 20 ounces. I wanted them, so I took them.” …

Then all of the people killed Achan.

Sweet dreams, kiddo.

How could you hate a guy who wear's Mickey t-shirts?

Mark Driscoll has a good piece out in response to the recent Newsweek cover story, “The End of Christian America”. It’s not so much a response as another perspective on the data – that the percentage of Americans claiming no religious affiliation has doubled, while the percentage  claiming Christian affiliation has shrunk -  from that offered by Al Mohler.

Rather than “despair” at the survey results, Driscoll rejoices, much as I did when I read it. I wasn’t excited about there being more athiests or fewer Christians, because I don’t think there are. I just think there are fewer people who feel the need to lie about it to pollsters.

Here’s what Driscoll has to say:

The confusion is that it was common in Christendom for people who did not practice Christianity to profess Christianity. This was often done for social reasons, such as living in a culture that expected church affiliation, being born into a religious tradition and assuming it was simply part of one’s identity (like a cultural or racial connection), or personally, socially, and vocationally benefitting from being connected, even loosely, to a church or denomination. Researchers such as George Barna have documented the fact that, as Jesus himself said, not everyone who says he or she is a Christian is in fact one. [...]

With the social benefits of professing to be a Christian no longer in place and the social stigma of not professing to be a Christian now lifted, those who were part of Christendom America are simply no longer pretending to be part of Christian America.

I still remember the feeling I had in high school, within a year of coming to Christ, when I found out that not everyone who claimed Christianity, even among those who seemed the most devout, actually practiced it. This survey is like the first realization of the distant hope that people would stop pretending to be Christians.

Since I was just reading a better explanation of my own opinion on the matter, the story wasn’t really a big deal to me. What was interesting was this response in the comments:

+ Debbie / Strongsville, Ohio

I think you can be a good Christian and not belong to a church. You need to be “Christ” like. Who is to say that this church or that church is somewhere you have to belong to be a Christian. I take offense to being classified as Christendom. Who made Mark Driscoll the authority on who is a Christian and who just thinks they are? Almost everyday in some town you can read a story about a church taking advantage of its congregation. I give charity but to people of my choice, and I give where I know it is being used to really help people in need.

My first reaction was that this response is like waving a flag that says, “GUILTY!!!” Driscoll simply described the difference between Christendom – in which people claim Christianity for cultural benefit – and Christianity. His description had nothing to do with going to church, or giving money to a church.

Debbie started defending herself from an attack that never came. My only assumption, based on my own responses – like this one – is that she feels like Driscoll is calling her out because, despite her protestations, she is only nominally Christian. If so, why is she so offended? And where does she live where there isn’t a good and faithful congregation she can be a part of?

People pretending to be Christians hurt the image of the church. And they make it very difficult to evangelize. Thank God people are finally willing to be honest about it.

I'm as clean as the bathroom door handle!

I remember when I was a kid and I’d go to a birthday party or something that was being hosted by a moderate-to-severely uptight  mom, they’d never let us just grab a sandwich or some chips off of the tray. We had to use the tongs. They were the magical way that we kept from sharing our germs. Because, of course, you couldn’t expect a kid to only touch the sandwich he picked up, right?

And you can’t expect adults to pull it off, either. That’s why when ever you see a sample basket at the supermarket (Central Market, particularly) or at Sam’s, there’s always a gleaming pair of tongs there for you to pick up your free chips.

Last week I was at Le Madeleine and encountered the sacred tongs while going for a piece of bread. Just as I was reaching out to them, I paused and pulled my hand back. It had never occurred to me before, but for all these years that the tongs have been protecting us from slightly contaminated bread, nothing’s been protecting us from the tongs.

So now, instead of the possibility that the back of someone’s hand touched my bread slice, or (heaven forbid) they picked it up by accident, every single person has touched the tongs. Ewww.

So next time you see me picking the tongs up with a napkin then stuffing my bare hand into the basket, don’t call security, thank me for reminding you not to use the tongs.

I finally got the motivation to resurrect the short lived project that was NewKindof Politics.com. It’s now running with a new focus. In one sentence, instead of whining about the ways in which President Obama is not what he claims to be, I’m actually offering some ideas about a new kind of politics.

While campaigning President Obama promised us a new kind of politics. What he has delivered so far is not a fulfillment of that promise

But that promise is out there. There is a new politic – one that values honesty over appeasement, and conviction over consensus. This politic calls on us not to put aside our ideology to work together to some nebulous end, but embrace it, because it’s what drives us.

This site is dedicated to giving voice to this new politic. Will yours be heard?

Forget bipartisanship and non-partisanship. When two ideas clash and their proponents have their hearts in the fight, there’s rarely a tie, or even a decent compromise. For the most part, when government officials compromise, everyone loses. Except for the officials.

The best thing we can do is put our ideas out there and let the best one win. Instead of spinning and wordsmithing and playing to the center when you want to be way out on the wing, just say it like you feel it. Then use the facts to convince us that you’re right. In the end, I think we’ll all be better served.

This is my experiment. Anyone with me?

I was skimming through CollideMagazine.com and a fragment of a sentence sent my mind whirring: “As technology becomes increasingly pervasive…”

Is this the Age of Technology?

Is technology really becoming “increasingly pervasive”? It sure seems that way to us. Take a look at any middle class college student or urban professional and you can practically see the microwaves and satellite signals radiating from them. It’s a rare day when I don’t literally have the entire internet in my pocket, and my personal files in my bag. I usually have my Rebel XT on me as well. Even my 2-year-old has a (fake) cell-phone. It beeps and everything.

But has there been more of a technological invasion in recent years than in past eras? I don’t really think so. In fact, to think that technology has only recently become pervasive is to put a startlingly strict definition on the term technology.

Do you have a Moleskine on you? That’s stuffed full of tech advances: paper, glue, bonded leather, cardboard, twine. And those little books have been around for centuries (according to the packaging). And of course you need a pen. It’s probably made of plastic and a relatively novel type of ink, but the whole concept of a pen had to have been invented some time. What about your shirt? Is it hand-stitched? If not, then technology made it. Of course, even hand-stitching has the benefits of the needle, thread, and the loom that made the fabric, so…

You get my point. We have this habit of framing issues in such a way that it seems like no people or events came before us. We are the beginning of all things. Maybe if we spent more time acknowledging the facts – for example, that the advances of massive companies like Microsoft and Apple are often miniscule compared to the advances brought about by individuals like Tesla and Edison – we might find it easier to get rid of the arrogance that washes over everything we do.

When she tried to get reinstated, her emails and letters were ignored. There was “*no question* that [their] actions in this regard constitute clear and unmistakable intolerance and discrimination against [Alicia and her sister] because of [their] name.”

This retelling is of course a bit tongue-in-cheek, at least from my perspective. But this is the kind of language being used to tell the story. Ms. Istanbul posted the emails she sent to FB, from which I pulled the above quote. She lost access late Wednesday (4/23), just before midnight. According to her, by 1:35pm Friday “a lot of people [were] outraged over this.”

There are two things here. The first is that we may have differing concepts of “a lot”. Facebook has a couple hundred million users. That’s a lot. Ms. Istanbul has about 350 FB friends. Comparatively, I don’t think that’s a lot, but that’s just me.

The second thing is that I’m certain that these people were outraged, which raises a whole spectrum of depressing realizations about our culture.

In The End of Education Neil Postman talks about the necessity of “gods”. He isn’t necessarily talking about deities, though they fit the bill. He’s talking about those things that are bigger than us. Big enough to live for. In this society those things seem to be fewer and farther between everyday.

So we tend to fill this void with whatever will take our attention and reward our effort. In some very small ways, FB does this. But in many cases life seems to be so void of those redeeming, value-giving pursuits, that something so trivial as Facebook is all that remains. Which is why “a lot” of people would only need 38 hours to get “outraged” over two accounts being closed by error.

Why is it that such trivial things get elevated to this kind of level? One word: emptiness.

I’m not saying Ms. Istanbul’s life is empty. I’m sure it’s quite full of work, hobbies, family, and friends. But there’s more to fulfillment than a full life. We all feel it. It’s why we become obsessed with things of no importance.

It’s why we work ourselves into a fury to defend and spread the message of our particular parenting style, or diet. It’s why a natural parenting blogger can  be assailed by commenters for mentioning that she likes watching TV. And why comic book fans feel the need to raise their noses at the movie versions, because they don’t show what “really happened.”

Ecclesiastes tells us that God put eternity into the hearts of men. Our hearts are searching for something lasting. And until we take hold of it, we’ll latch on to whatever transient thing blows our way.

Some things (like World of Warcraft), last longer than others. A few (like environmentalism, or politics) actually have some significance. But nothing we do is eternal. No job, no hobby, no gadget. If we want lasting fulfillment, there is just one thing we have to look to.

I’ve spent the last 8 months or so, since shortly before the launch of A New Kind of Politics (now all but defunct), immersed in news and discussion of politics, social action and issues, energy, environmentalism, and education. I’ve logged countless hours reading up on everything that comes through the news or through my own life. But it wasn’t until yesterday that I realized that it’s all crap.

Not one of those things really matters. I’ll give you an example.

We can argue about abortion all day. One thing remains true: people will get abortions. We can slow it down, we can put people in jail, but whether it’s done with a vacuum or a coat hanger, abortion will happen. Politics is just the same. In 1995 the Republican Congress put in procedural rules that gave the minority party more ways to influence legislation and Congressional process, so that the majority wouldn’t just run roughshod over them. In 2007 the new Democrat Congress removed them. In the 80’s President Reagan instituted the global gag rule, restricting aid to organizations that counsel abortion. Bill Clinton rescinded it. George W. Bush reinstituted it. Obama rescinded it again.

I realized this while reading for The History and Philosphy of Christian Education. One of our first reading assignments is a timeline of events in the history of American education. What I found was that every thirty years or so the theory/practice pendulum would swing from left to right and back. Whatever one generation swore by, and said would revolutionize education, the next generation decried and said it would be the end if we didn’t change it.

“I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the work into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless.”

What do you dedicate yourself to? Education? The elimination of poverty? Social justice, through politics or action? I would suggest that there is no meaning in any of it.  Someone will come after you and reverse everything you worked for. Vanity.

The only thing that endures is Christ.

I put together a weekend conference for high school students a few years ago called “The One Thing”. It was meant to be two days of Jesus, and him crucified. I’d been to plenty of youth rallies and events, and they all seemed to be filled with spiritual disciplines and morality and behavior and music. All of those things are good, of course, but my students, at least, we’ren’t hearing it. I couldn’t figure out why, until I realized one day that they hadn’t really heard about Jesus. And if you don’t know about Jesus, all of that other stuff is just stuff.

Well, it turns out that I’m not a good sales person, and I’m also not good at holding people to their word (some other leaders committed about 100 kids to the event 8 weeks before, but bailed the week of) and it ended up being a full scale event for the 18 0r 19 kids in my group that were in town that weekend. But we went after it.

We talked about Jesus and only Jesus for the whole weekend and I was amazed at their response. They began to tell me in the following days and weeks that they had started reading their Bibles on their own and spending more time praying and just loving Jesus more. The more amazing part was that the chaperones and adult guests said the same things! And it wasn’t me, or our speaker, it was Jesus.

Jesus is all that lasts. If you’re doing social justice, but you’ve decided not to “proselytize”, what you’re doing is vanity. Proselytizing is what we do; it’s what Jesus told us to do. And it’s what will last long after the meal you served has gone or the money you gave has been spent. If you’re teaching and you aren’t using a distinctly Christian worldview, what you’re doing is vanity. What we know now may not be true in 20 or 30 years, but Jesus will be. Evil and waste and falsehood and poverty will dog humanity until the end. Every good we do will be met with an evil…or two. But Jesus will never be overcome.

So, as I move forward in my seminary studies and toward a career in education, I’m tempted to say, “Keep the main thing the main thing.” But the truth is, there’s only one thing.