Of course, after about the fourth or fifth time I did this, I suddenly had a revelatory moment – if I always end up amazed at all the screwed up stuff I used to believe a year ago . . . that can’t mean anything if it doesn’t mean that I must be believing some pretty screwed up things right now! The image for this post illustrates (in a little harsher way) that the truth in my beliefs isn’t always what I hope it is.

And you know what? After twenty years of doing this (though not in journal form any longer), I can verify that it’s still the same. This time last year, I thought and believed some things that I no longer do. And that’s a good thing. It represents growth and movement in my life. Thankfully, I’ve learned to let the younger version of me off the hook for some of that stuff. All of this has convinced me that the certainty that I used to pride myself on isn’t really that valuable anymore.

Yes, my theology has changed a lot over the years. But for all the certainty I’ve given up in the way I understand God, the church, and my role in the world, I’ve gained much more. By giving up the need to force the Bible to speak clearly and tangibly into every life situation I face, I’ve gained the presence of the Holy Spirit to guide me through times of mystery and confusion and pain. By giving up the need to have my theology cleanly categorized in bite-sized pieces, I’ve gained a greater sense of awe for a Creator God who loves the world so much more completely than I ever will. By giving up the need to know who is on God’s friend list versus enemy list by virtue of whether they believe the right things about God, I’ve gained a beautifully long list of friends that have spoken beauty and wonder into my life . . . friends I would not have been likely to hang out with before.

The younger, undergrad version of me might be alarmed at what I’ve become, and charge me with being careless and reckless with my theology. I’m going to have to answer for all this stuff some day, right? But here’s the deal – if I already know that I always have and always will believe some of the wrong stuff, isn’t it better for me to err on the side of loving and embracing too many people, rather than fearfully refusing to embrace enough people because they might not be right with God?

God embraces and loves and forgives me, even when I believe the wrong things and do the wrong things. I hope I’m getting better at imitating God in that way. I guess I’ll have to re-read this post about a year from now to see . . .

I leave you with a lovely quote:

Orthodoxy as right belief will cost us little; indeed, it will allow us to sit back with our Pharisaic doctrines, guarding the ‘truth’ with the purity of our interpretations. But orthodoxy, as believing in the right way, as bringing love to the world around us and within us . . . that will cost us everything. For to live by that sword, as we all know, is to die by it.

~Peter Rollins, How (not) to Speak of God, p. 3

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Mark Driscoll is a very gifted communicator. He’s funny, he’s culturally savvy, he has a quick mind, he takes theology very seriously. Though this may shock a lot of people – in particular, his critics – from personal experience with him, I’ve found him to actually be a somewhat pastoral guy. He is extremely effective at stirring people to action, especially people that the rest of the churches in Seattle, in Washington, in the US have not been effective at stirring up – young adult men. He is entrepreneurial and willing to take creative risks.

None of those things has been the reason my blog post has gotten as much attention as it has.

Mark Driscoll has an amazing ability to say things that people find harsh, critical, prideful, and hurtful. He has a style of leadership that smells of authoritarian domination. His views on Christian doctrine anger many people. He bullies people through inflammatory language and histrionics. He often makes a big, big deal out of what I consider silly non-issues. Many women and men are upset by his misogynistic language and attitudes.

None of those things has been the reason my blog post has gotten as much attention as it has.

My post on Driscoll was unashamedly critical. It was a little clever, to make a point. I don’t think it was particularly inflammatory. Sure, it stirred the pot, but let’s face it – that pot was already boiling over. I’d like to take a moment and ask us all to just step back, take a deep breath, take another deep breath, and calm down.

Whether you are an energetic fan or energetic critic of Driscoll, I’d like us to all do something counter-intuitive, and think more deeply about this whole thing. Take the time to be sophisticated in your thinking. Don’t get angry because Mark said this or that. Don’t get angry because Mark’s critics just don’t understand. Because this thing isn’t about what you think it is. Here’s what it’s all really about . . .

Ready?

O.k., I’ll be honest. I don’t know.

What I do know is that Mark Driscoll is an archetype. He is either the archetypal hero or the archetypal villain.

Very few people know the man. Few of the people who think they know him actually do. But he represents for us a version of good or bad that grabs something deep down inside, and demands attention. Why? The truth is, whether Mark Driscoll falls in disgrace or thrives and expands his influence, it won’t affect most of our lives or decisions. If he disappeared from the planet tomorrow, we would all very likely elevate someone else to take his place, either as “most-loved” or “most-hated.”

Archetypes have value in the stories we live. But only inasmuch as we empower them to do so. I give the archetypal villains in my life power when I get angry. I give the archetypal heroes in my life power when I give fawning praise.

This Mark Driscoll thing isn’t about Mark Driscoll. It’s about my heart. It’s about yours. Sadly, IMHO, I think Mark’s constant insistence that “it’s all about Jesus,” rings hollow here, because my blog post didn’t get the attention it did because of Jesus. It wasn’t about the gospel. I wish.

What does Mark represent for you, oh reader? The kind of bold truth-teller you wish you could be? The kind of monster that gives all Christians a bad name? How are you empowering Mark – or rather, the Driscoll archetype – in your own heart?

Let me be clear – I know this stuff has bigger implications. I know there are real-life issues out there with real-life-Mark-Driscoll that need some attention and action. But if we are going to do well, we’ll approach this with some considered reflection, hopefully some prayer, and some words that are fair, kind, and generous, even when they’re pointed and fueled by passion. Then, when we act, in whatever way we act, we’ll have done so with a clear-head and deeper character.

*Most days I don’t even look at my blog stats. I don’t do ads on the blog, so I make no money from higher stats. I usually don’t use the stats to boost my self-esteem (frankly, most of the time I’d have lower self-esteem if that were so).

Just moments ago, I finally read something that I, and many others have eagerly been waiting for . . . a sincere word of repentance from Mark Driscoll, as delivered from the pulpit at Mars Hill Church. Yes, really. Read it yourself:

I believe that humility is the great omission and failure in my eleven years of preaching. I believe that this is my greatest oversight both in my example and in my instruction.

I therefore do not claim to be humble. I do not claim to have been humble. I am convicted of my pride, and I am a man who is by God’s grace pursuing humility.

So in many ways this is a sermon that I’m preaching at myself, this is a sermon you are welcomed to listen in on as I preach to myself.

But I truly believe that were there one thing I could do over in the history of Mars Hill it would be in my attitude and in my actions and in my words to not only emphasize sound doctrine, encourage in strength and commitment and conviction but, to add in addition to that, humility as a virtue.

And so I’ll start by asking your forgiveness and sincerely acknowledging that this has been a great failure.

And I believe that it is showing up in our church in the lives of men and women who have sound doctrine but not sound attitude. They may contend for good things but their motives are bad and their methods are bad and their tone is bad and their tactics are bad and their actions are bad because their attitudes are bad even though their objective is sometimes good. I see this in particular with the men. I see this with men young and old, men who have known Jesus for a long time and should know better, and men who are new to Jesus and are learning sometimes the hard way.

I will take some responsibility for this. Luke 6:40 says that when fully trained, disciples are like their teacher, and I am primary teaching pastor of this church and I can’t simply look at the pride in some of our people and say that I am in no way responsible or complicit.

and later . . .

Furthermore, I apologize and repent publicly to you, the church for whom I am responsible, for much pride in the history of my ministry that some of you have poorly imitated and for that I am deeply sorry.

And thirdly, to say that I’m not a humble man but as result of study I’m a man who is acknowledging his pride and pursuing humility by God’s grace.

Amazing, right? Too good to be true? Maybe, maybe not . . .

Yes, Mark Driscoll did deliver these words to Mars Hill from the pulpit. The catch is, he delivered those words in November 2007. (I found the transcript for this on the web here). Am I guilty of a sensationalistic headline? Perhaps . . . but there’s a point.

There are multiple ways to respond to this confession. One would be to read this and think that he, like all of us, has some persistent and pervasive areas of sin in his life, and this one just keeps popping up for him. Kudos to him for his public confession, but no kudos for follow-through. The recent church discipline debacle certainly opens Driscoll up for questions when it comes to ongoing habits of sin that don’t result in changed behavior . . . should he himself be under church discipline for this?

The thing I have been the most troubled about regarding Driscoll for a long, long time has been what he says in this confession about the example he sets for others. I re-quote:

I believe that it is showing up in our church in the lives of men and women who have sound doctrine but not sound attitude. They may contend for good things but their motives are bad and their methods are bad and their tone is bad and their tactics are bad and their actions are bad because their attitudes are bad even though their objective is sometimes good. I see this in particular with the men.

Here’s the deal for anyone who doesn’t know me – I lived in Seattle for seven years, four of which I spent doing college ministry at the University of Washington. A number of students that were a part of the programs I ran were faithful members of Mars Hill Church. And I can testify that Mark Driscoll was right, at least in part . . . good motives, good intentions, but sometimes some pretty bad methods, tone, tactics, and attitudes . . . in particular with the men. I genuinely believe that these guys loved Jesus, and tried really hard to follow him. I pray they still do. But these guys would go to Ballard on Sundays, watch Driscoll for an hour-plus each Sunday, and then try to emulate him, both in doctrine and in their pseudo-masculine (but actually cowardly) style. I saw the way they treated women. I saw the way they treated people who held other doctrinal positions than they did. Sadly, I saw Mark Driscoll discipling young men to himself, while convincing himself and them that he was discipling them to Jesus.

I was pleased to receive notice of some upcoming events related to the network. There’s a new book, edited by Pete Ward, called Perspectives on Ecclesiology and Ethnography, a symposium at King’s College London, another symposium at Luther Seminary in St. Paul,MN and a day conference in Oxford on Critical Realism and Practical Theology.

This fall, there will also be another conference in Durham.

I’m looking forward to attending all of these, except the St. Paul event. If you’re interested in how practical theology and the social sciences interact, do look into these things.

What changed my mind about posting on this wasn’t that I thought I have something fresh to say about it. No, I’m posting because as a lover of juxtaposition, I found it terribly interesting that TED has also recently posted a video about religion . . . I don’t think it’s gone viral yet, though (see me staking my claim on the hipster leading edge?). Except this is a PRO religion talk. Oh, and it’s given by a famous atheist, Alain de Botton, who proposes what he calls “Atheism 2.0.” He readily admits that he believes in no supernatural deities or sub-deities, but argues that atheists have a lot to learn from the institutional life of religions – the ordering of time, the repetition of closely-held important values, the use of art as a didactic tool. He’s actually arguing for the religioning of atheism! It’s actually a quite fascinating presentation on several levels.

So, while some Christians are trying very hard to argue their way out of religion, some atheists are trying to argue their way in. Brilliant!

Here’s the TED video

:

What do you think?

For all the conferences and events I’ve attended over the past ten years, Off the Map was far and away my favorite place to just hang out with people. There were a couple of these conferences where I literally paid for my ticket to get in, and then ended up spending no more than 30 minutes in the actual event programs – I was too busy having fun in the hallways and around the book table. Of course, when I would pop my head into the speaker sessions, there was always something to enjoy, too. The ideas were always energizing, often provokative, sometimes maddening . . . but that was part of the fun. Of course, hearing Jim sing the blues at the close of the shows was also fun.

Over the years, a lot of us got burned out on going to conferences, only to hear the same six (ahem, white, USAmerican male) people on stage, frequently recapping their latest books . . . which we all had already read anyway. Off the Map did far better than most at putting women and global voices out front, and they were ahead of the curve in doing so. Burnout aside, it’s good to acknowledge the moments we all had together (cue the slideshow montage music)

It would be very easy for me to dwell in nostalgia, perhaps even long enough for me to wish that Jim would produce one last OTM conference, just for old times’ sake. But shutting it down gives us the chance to let the good memories gel in our heads before we move toward whatever is next. It also gives us a chance to say thanks. If you had the pleasure of going to an OTM event, I’d encourage you to go to their blog and do just that.

Of course, I should say that while Off the Map won’t be an active part of my life any longer, I’m happy that Jim Henderson still will be. As many of you readers know, he’s now not only my friend, but also my father-in-law. So, yeah, this post is biased – but I would have written it anyway.

But I’ve noticed a trend in the past couple of weeks. Call it a widespread case of a New Years Resolution meme if you like, but I’ve seen a lot of my friends – both “real” and virtual – posting to their blogs for the first time in months, often saying something like, “I’ve had this blog for a long time, but have neglected it lately. But I’m going to change that and begin posting more.” Since these are friends, and not just random people I don’t care about, it makes me happy to think about reading their thoughts again. It makes me wonder if 2012 is going to be the return of the wayward blogger.

Here are some guesses as to why this might be the case. First, it’s an election year in the U.S., so people are thinking more about candidates, issues, and values, so they want to write about them. Second, a number of the bloggers I follow started their blogs around the same time I did . . . about TEN years ago – so I think  there’s a bit of nostalgia around the ten year anniversary. Third, while quickly  condensing your thoughts to 140 characters, and then throwing them out there withlittleornoediting, can be a lot of fun, a lot of us miss the days when we’d sit down and be a little reflective . . . before throwing our thoughts out there withlittleornoediting. Sometimes having to sharpen your sentences to fit the Twitter character limit produces some beautiful things, but it’s pretty rare to be elegant enough to tweet something that’s both interesting and sophisticated enough to be more than just a throw-away soundbite. Fourth, now that EVERYONE is on Facebook and/or Twitter, a lot of folks are tiring of weeding through all the superfluous gunk and marketing to be found there. That, and they (o.k., WE) remember when they/we were the cool kids that had discovered something others hadn’t. But now that blogging is “over,” maybe its time to be retro.

Only time will tell if people live up to their blogging resolutions, but I hope most do. To that end, I’m willing to do my part, and have another go at posting regularly here. And, while time and efficiency need to factor in, I’ll also try to go to more actual blogs and throw in some comments. As a blogger, I know it’s always good to hear what others think – even/especially when folks disagree.

As a big DM fan from my high school/college days, I couldn’t resist the trainwreck. I’ve often been a fan of artistic juxtaposition, but cover songs are so rarely done well. So how did she do?

Stunned. She nailed it. Well sung, well produced. She actually captured the spirit of the lyrics, and added some artistry. It’s not quite as good as Johnny Cash’s cover of Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus, but you’d expect Johnny to connect with DM’s dark edge, wouldn’t you? Now what I’d LOVE to see is Susan Boyle attempting a re-make of DM’s iconic music video to go along with it. Orrrrrr, you know, maybe not.

You can listen to the song for yourself and tell me if I’ve lost all control of my senses. Maybe 2012 isn’t treating me well so far . . .

<walks away scratching head in disbelief>

*Before you take the post title too seriously, please consider that this post was originally written on January 3, which means that this is, in fact, my favorite cover song of the year . . . but it’s the only one I’ve heard this year.

51 weeks later, and a few things have changed. New vocations, new city, new country. Flying to Maui to celebrate is a little out of the way from London. Fortunately, the rest of Europe is at our doorstep. So, we are headed out to a different island – Mallorca, Spain. It’s a major summer tourist destination for Brits and Germans. It looks beautiful in pictures, so we’re excited to see it for ourselves. It’ll be a week too early to celebrate our official anniversary, but it’s close enough.

Since we’ll probably have limited Internet access, let me cheat the Advent calendar just a little and wish you a Merry Christmas. While we are having a good experience living in London, we do miss being with family and friends at this time of year. We are grateful for the good people God has placed in our lives.

Peace, friends.

Growing up in USAmerican evangelicalism, one of the running jokes in churches was that ‘the church’ was also 10-20 years behind cultural trends. Music, fashion, politics, and other topics would pop up in church circles well after they’d gone stale everywhere else. I’d like to suggest that the emerging church actually represents not just a “catching up with culture,” but a bit of a reversal of the game.

Without attempting a full history of the movement, let me just suggest some of the hallmarks of the emerging church thus far:

• It’s a movement made up primarily of no-name people, who at some point became disillusioned with the status-quo. A handful of prominent people may have become identifiable spokespeople, but they were never elected or appointed to this . . . meanwhile the actual work of the movement is done by people you’ve never heard of, and in most cases never will.
• It’s notoriously hard to define. There is no official membership, no official mission statement, no agreed upon goals and objectives.
• It is messy. Because there’s no central hierarchy or mission statement, the ideas of the movement often appear disorganized and lack cohesion. Critics don’t like the haphazard nature of it, but participants often celebrate this reality.
• The ideas/memes core to the movement challenge the accepted understandings of orthodoxy, and have deconstructed and reimagined the way we view things that used to be relatively blindly assumed as true.
• It’s a movement of creativity, using aesthetics as meaning-making and narrative.
• The movement has been somewhat noisy and disruptive. Hierarchies and systems of power have been challenged, and people in power positions have become uncomfortable. In a few cases, this discomfort has brought about the beginnings of responsive change, but in many others, the discomfort has brought about a vocal backlash against those causing disruption.
• The movement has been fueled primarily by younger people.
• The movement was made possible by technology. The ideas and connections have taken place on the internet. People congregate on web hubs, blogs, Facebook, and Twitter.
• The movement is communal. There are regular local expressions in cities all over the world, but there are also coordinated gathering events, to share in relationship, encouragement, pep talks, and learning parties.
• Although the public perception of those involved is that they’re on the fringe, and perhaps a bit too radical for broad acceptance, the ideas have begun filtering into the mainstream, and “regular folk” are thinking and talking about things in a way that is just plain different. When the proverbial soccer moms are talking about the issues, the impact is becoming measurable.

I could go on, but that’s a good start. Now, friends, I’d like you to go back and read through those descriptions of the movement . . . except in the introduction, replace “hallmarks of the emerging church” with “hallmarks of the Occupy movement.”

Obviously, there are some significant differences between the emerging church and the Occupy movement, so I’m not trying to make a point-by-point comparison.* I am suggesting, though, that the spirit of protest, the populist uprisings, and the calls for broad-based participation in a new version of reality are strikingly common. And for the purposes of my point: the emerging church got here first.

Depending on how you date the start of the movement, the emerging church has occupying Christianity for at least 15-20 years. By comparison, the Occupy movement is a youngster. Sure, it has grown faster and bigger than the emerging church, but I would add another argument here, and say that the fact that interfaith groups have been an important component of the Occupy movement is largely due to the emerging church movement having developed peoples’ consciousness of issues of power and social injustice.

Ultimately it doesn’t actually matter much who got here first. What I am saying here, though, is that the emerging church, with its major emphasis on missiology toward the Western world, has helped followers of Jesus become more future-oriented. The emerging church is a forward-leaning effort, aimed at anticipating cultural change, rather than just trying to keep up with it. And whether the emerging church brand has outlived it’s hipster status or not, this reality has made the Church better. And it will continue to do so.

So what do you think? Am I way off base in making this comparison? This is just an idea I’ve been kicking around for the past couple months.** I’d love to hear other opinions and critiques.

*I’m also not saying that the emerging church and the Occupy movement don’t have some very unfortunate similarities. Both can be legitimately criticized for being too white, too male, and too intellectually elitist. The Daily Show’s Samantha Bee did a brilliant story poking at Occupy Wall Street’s inability to practice what it preaches, and the same could easily be said of the emerging church.

**I promise, I’m not trying to capitalize on Time magazine’s “Person of the Year” thing.

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