Work as a Form of Prayer

"The significance- and ultimately the quality- of the work we do is determined by our understanding of the story in which we are taking part.

If we think of ourselves as merely biological creatures, whose story is determined by genetics or environment or history or economics or technology, then, however pleasant or painful the part we play, it cannot matter much. Its significance is that of mere self-concern. 'It is a tale / Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, / Signifying nothing,' as Macbeth says when he has 'supp'd full with horrors' and is 'aweary of the sun.'

If we think of ourselves as lofty souls trapped temporarily in lowly bodies in a dispirited, desperate, unlovable world that we must despise for Heaven's sake, then what have we done for this question of significance? If we divide reality into two parts, spiritual and material, and hold (as the Bible does not hold) that only the spiritual is good or desirable, then our relation to the material Creation becomes arbitrary, having only the quantitative or mercenary value that we have, in fact and for this reason, assigned to it. Thus, we become the judges and inevitably the destroyers of a world we did not make and that we are bidden to understand as a divine gift. It is impossible to see how good work might be accomplished by people who think that our life in this world either signifies nothing or has only a negative significance.

If, on the other hand, we believe that we are living souls, God's dust and God's breath, acting our parts among other creatures all made of the same dust and breath as ourselves; and if we understand that we are free, within the obvious limits of mortal human life, to do evil or good to ourselves and to other creatures- then all our acts have supreme significance. If it is true that we are living souls and morally free, then all of us are artists. All of us are makers, within mortal terms and limits, of our lives, of one another's lives, of things we need and use.

This, Ananda Coomaraswamy wrote, is 'the normal view,' which 'assumes . . . not that the artist is a special kind of man, but that every man who is not a mere idler or parasite is necessarily some kind of artist. But since even mere idlers and parasites may be said to work inescapably, by proxy or influence, it might be better to say that everybody is an artist- either good or bad, responsible or irresponsible. Any life, by working or not by working, by working well or poorly, inescapably changes other lives and so changes the world. This is why our division of the 'fine arts' from 'craftsmanship,' and 'craftsmanship from 'labor,' is so arbitrary, meaningless, and destructive. As Walter Shewring rightly said, both 'the plowman and the potter have a cosmic function.' And bad art in any trade dishonors and damages Creation.

If we think of ourselves as living souls, immortal creatures, living in the midst of a Creation that is mostly mysterious, and if we see everything we make or do cannot help but have an everlasting significance for ourselves, for others, and for the world, then we see why some religious teachers have understood work as a form of prayer. We see why the old poets invoked the muse. And we know why George Herbert prayed in his poem 'Mattens':

Teach me thy love to know; That this new light, which now I see, May both the work and workman show.

Work connects us both to Creation and to eternity. This is the reason also for Mother Ann Lee's famous instruction: 'Do all your work as though you had a thousand years to live on earth, and as you would if you knew you must die tomorrow.'"

Wendell Berry's essay, "Christianity and the Survival of Creation," in Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community, pp. 109-11

Good Work

"Good human work honors God's work. Good work uses no thing without respect, but for what it is in itself and for its origin. It uses neither tool nor material that it does not respect and that it does not love. It honors nature as a great mystery and power, as an indispensable teacher, and as the inescapable judge of all work of human hands. It does not dissociate life and work, or pleasure and work, or love and work, or usefulness and beauty. To work without pleasure or affection, to make a product that is not both useful and beautiful, is to dishonor God, nature, the thing that is made, and whomever it is made for. This is blasphemy: to make shoddy work of the work of God. But such blasphemy is not possible when the entire Creation is understood as holy and when the works of God are understood as embodying and thus revealing His spirit.

In the Bible, we find none of the industrialist's contempt or hatred for nature. We find, instead, a poetry of awe and reverence and profound cherishing, as in the verses from Moses' valedictory blessing of the twelve tribes: 'And of Joseph he said, Blessed of the Lord be his land, for the precious things of heaven, for the dew, and for the deep that croucheth beneath, And for the precious fruits brought forth by the sum, and for the precious things put forth by the moon, And for the chief things of the ancient mountains, and for the precious things of the lasting hills, And for the precious things of the earth and fullness thereof, and for the good will of him that dwelt in the bush' (Deuteronomy 33:13-16)."

Wendell Berry's essay, "Christianity and the Survival of Creation," in Sex, Economy, Freedom; Community, pp. 104-5

A Book Open to the Sky

"I don't think it is enough appreciated how much an outdoor book the Bible is. . . . such as Thoreau talked about- a book open to the sky. . . . outdoors we are confronted everywhere with wonders; we see that the miraculous is not extraordinary but the common mode of existence. It is our daily bread. Whoever really has considered the lilies of the field or the birds of the air and pondered the improbability of their existence in this warm world within the cold and empty stellar distances will hardly balk at the turning of water into wine- which was, after all, a very small miracle. We forget the greater and still continuing miracle by which water (with soil and sunlight) is turned into grapes.

It is clearly impossible to assign holiness exclusively to the built church without denying holiness to the rest of Creation, which is then said to be 'secular.' The world, which God looked at and found entirely good, we find none too good to pollute entirely and destroy piecemeal. The church, then, becomes a kind of preserve of 'holiness,' from which certified lovers of God assault and plunder the 'secular' earth.

Not only does this repudiate God's approval of His work; it refuses also to honor the Bible's explicit instruction to regard the works of Creation as God's revelation of Himself. The assignation of holiness exclusively to the built church is therefore logically accompanied by the assignation of revelation exclusively to the Bible. But Psalm 19 begins, 'The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.' The word of God has been revealed in facts from the moment of the third verse of the first chapter of Genesis: 'Let there be light: and there was light.' And Saint Paul states the rule: 'The invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen being understood by the things that are made.'"

Wendell Berry's essay, "Christianity and the Survival of Creation," in Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community, pp. 103-04

The Heaven of Heavens Cannot Contain Thee

"The holiness of life is obscured to modern Christians also by the idea that the only holy place is the built church. This idea may be more taken for granted than taught; nevertheless, Christians are encouraged from childhood to think of the church building as 'God's house,' and most of them could think of their houses or farms or shops or factories as holy places only with great effort and embarrassment. It is understandably difficult for modern Americans to think of their dwellings and workplaces as holy, because most of these are, in fact, places of desecration, deeply involved in the ruin of Creation.
  
The idea of the exclusive holiness of church buildings is, of course, wildly incompatible with the idea, which the churches also teach, that God is present in all places to hear prayers. It is incompatible with Scripture. The idea that a human artifact could contain or confine God was explicitly repudiated by Solomon in his prayer at the dedication of the Temple: 'Behold the heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain thee: how much less this house that I have builded?' (1 Kings 8:27) And these words of Solomon were remembered a thousand years later by Saint Paul, preaching at Athens: 

God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands . . . For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said. Acts 17:24 and 28

Idolatry always reduces to the worship of something 'made with hands,' something confined within the terms of human work and human comprehension. Thus, Solomon and Saint Paul both insisted on the largeness and the at-largeness of God, setting Him free, so to speak, from ideas about Him. He is not to be fenced in, under human control, like some domestic creature; . . . Jesus' own specifications for his church have nothing at all to do with masonry and carpentry but only with people; his church is 'where two or three are gathered together in my name' (Matthew 18:20)."

Wendell Berry's essay, "Christianity and the Survival of Creation," in Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community, pp. 100-01

Creation's Goodness: Everything that Lives is Holy

"If we read the Bible, . . . we are apt to discover several things about which modern Christian organizations have kept remarkably quiet or to which they have paid little attention.

We will discover that we humans do not own the world or any part of it: 'The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof: the world and they that dwell therein' (Psalm 24:1). There is our human law, undeniably, the concept and right of 'land ownership.' But this, I think, is merely an expedient to safeguard the mutual belonging of people and places without which there can be no lasting and conserving human communities. This right of human ownership is limited by mortality and by natural constraints on human attention and responsibility; it quickly becomes abusive when used to justify large accumulations of 'real estate,' and perhaps for that reason such large accumulations are forbidden in the twenty-fifth chapter of Leviticus. In biblical terms, the 'landowner' is the guest and steward of God: 'The land is mine, for ye are strangers and sojourners with me' (Leviticus 25:23).

We will discover that God made not only the parts of Creation that we humans understand and approve but all of it: 'All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made' (John 1:3). . . .

We will discover that God found the world, as He made it, to be good, that He made it for His pleasure, and that He continues to love it and to find it worthy, despite its reduction and corruption by us. People who quote John 3:16 as an easy formula for getting to Heaven neglect to see the great difficulty implied in the statement that the advent of Christ was made possible by God's love for the world- not God's love for Heaven or for the world as it might be but for the world as it was and is. Belief in Christ is thus dependent on prior belief in the inherent goodness- the lovability- of the world.

We will discover that the Creation is not in any sense independent of the Creator, the result of a primal creative act long over and done with, but is the continuous, constant participation of all creatures in the being of God. Elihu said to Job that if God 'gather unto himself his spirit and his breath; all flesh shall perish together' (Job 34:14,15). And Psalm 104 says, 'Though sendest forth thy spirit, they are created." Creation is thus God's presence in creatures. The Greek Orthodox theologian Philip Sherrard has written that 'Creation is nothing less than the manifestation of God's hidden Being." This means that we and all other creatures live by a sanctity that is inexpressibly intimate, for to every creature, the gift of life is a portion of the breath and spirit of God. As the poet George Herbert put it:

Thou art in small things great, not small in any . . .

For thou art infinite in one and all.

We will discover that for these reasons our destruction of nature is not just bad stewardship, or stupid economics, or a betrayal of family responsibility; it is the most horrid blasphemy. It is flinging God's gifts into His face, as if they were of no worth beyond that assigned to them by our destruction of them. To Dante, 'despising Nature and her goodness' was a violence against God. We have no entitlement from the Bible to exterminate or permanently destroy or hold in contempt anything on the earth or in the heavens above it or in the waters beneath it. We have the right to use the gifts of nature but not to ruin or waste them. We have the right to use what we need but no more, which is why the Bible forbids usury and great accumulations of property. The usurer, Dante said, 'condemns Nature . . . for he puts his hope elsewhere.'

William Blake was biblically correct, then, when he said that 'everything that lives is holy.' And Blake's great commentator Kathleen Raine was correct both biblically and historically when she said that 'the sense of the holiness of life is the human norm.'

The Bible leaves no doubt at all about the sanctity of the act of world-making, or of the world that was made, or of creaturely or bodily life in this world. We are holy creatures living among other holy creatures in a world that is holy. Some people know this, and some do not. Nobody, of course, knows it all the time. But what keeps it from being far better known than it is? Why is it apparently unknown to millions of professed students of the Bible? How can modern Christianity have so solemnly folded its hands while so much of the work of God was and is being destroyed?"

Wendell Berry's essay, "Christianity and the Survival of Creation," in Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community, pp. 96-9

The Katerina Maslova in All of Us

In Tolstoy's Resurrection, the protagonist nobleman Dmitri Nekhludov reflects on a meeting with the imprisoned Katerina Maslova. As a servant girl, Maslova had once been Nekhludov's romantic love interest. However, Nekhludov had really seen her as one to be used for his own youthful pleasure and after getting Maslova pregnant, she loses her job and the child ends up dying unbaptized. From there, Maslova falls into a life of poverty and prostitution. Many years later, Nekhludov finds himself on a jury that wrongfully convicts Maslova on a murder charge. Conscience-stricken, he seeks to visit Maslova in prison and, to atone for his sins, means to promise marriage to her. But in that meeting, Nekhludov is struck by the way her heart has become weather-worn by life, really lacking any sort of feeling or conscience for the life she has chosen. In fact, "On the contrary, she seemed rather pleased with herself and proud of her position" (p. 150). Nekhludov had expected to find the heart of the young woman he had known as Katusha many years ago, instead he finds this hardened woman named Maslova. The narrator reflects on the encounter in this way:

No man can play an active role in the world unless he believes his activity is important and good. Therefore, whatever position a man may hold, he is certain to take that view of human life in general which will make his own activity seem important and good. It is generally supposed that a thief, a murderer, a spy or a prostitute, knowing their occupation to be evil, must be ashamed of it. In point of fact, the case is precisely the reverse. Men who have been placed by fate and their own mistakes (or sins) in certain position, however false, always adopt a view of life which makes their place in it good and appropriate. To maintain this idea, men instinctively mix only with those who accept their view of life and of their place in it. This surprises us when thieves boast of their adroitness, prostitutes flaunt their shame, murdered gloat over their cruelty. We are surprised, however, only because the circle, the sphere, of these men is limited, and principally because we are outside of it; but does not the same state of things exist among the rich- who boast of their wealth, i.e., of robbery; the generals- who boast of their victories, i.e., of murder; the rulers- who boast of their power, i.e., of violence? We do not recognize their ideas of life and of good and evil as perverted, only because the circle of men holding these perverted ideas is wider and because we belong to it ourselves.

Maslova held this view of life and of her own place in it. She was a prostitute, condemned to penal servitude, yet she had formed a conception of life which allowed her to think well of herself, and even to feel a pride in her position. . . .

During the last ten years, wherever she found herself, she saw men that needed her; they all needed her- from Nekhludov and the old police officer down to the warders in the prison. She took no notice of the men who did not need her, consequently, the whole world seemed to be made up of people driven by lust and trying to possess her by all possible means- by fraud and violence, by purchase and cunning.

This being Maslova’s conception of life, it was natural that she should consider herself an extremely important person. And she prized this conception of life above all things in the world- could not fail to prize it because, if she were to change her views, she would lose the importance which this conception gave her. And in order not to lose that pre-eminence in life, she instinctively ranged herself with the class of people who shared her views. Divining that Nekhludov wanted to draw her into a different world, she opposed him, foreseeing that in that world she would lose her place in life which gave her confidence and self-respect. . . .

Therefore the present Nekhludov was no longer, in her eyes, the man she once loved, but only a rich gentleman who could and should be made use of, and with whom she might have the same relations as with all other men” (pp. 150-51).

The narrator reflects on the deep self-focus and preoccupation of the human heart that seeks to justify its own existence regardless of the harm it may cause others, also that denies the ways in which that life might be implicated in the larger cosmos as it intersects with the global community. He speaks of not only this "way of seeing" (or "not seeing") in the lowly Maslova but in all of us.

A Celestial Affinity

In The Heretical Imperative, in C.S. Lewis-like fashion, sociologist Peter Berger responds to the claim of the atheist that religion is mere projection of human concerns onto the universe, "If men project their own meanings into the sky, their very capacity to do this comes from the fact that they have a celestial affinity" (p. 113).

Work that Lasts

"In God, everything that we have done in cooperation with God will be preserved. In the world to come, our work will not disappear. We ourselves will be followed by our works, as it says in the book of Revelation (14:13). That makes sense if our identity partly resides in our work and its achievements. Even in the world to come, I could not meet Gutenberg and not think of the printing press, or meet Einstein and not think of his theory of relativity, or meet the apostle Paul and not think of the epistle to the Romans. The results of our work- the cumulative results of generations of workers across the globe- will also be preserve in the world to come. They may be preserved just in God's memory, or they may be preserved as actual building blocks of that new world.

The work of each one of us is, then, a small contribution to the grand tapestry of life, which God is weaving as God created the world, is redeeming the world, and will consummate the world. This is the ultimate meaning of our work."

Miroslav Volf in A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good, pp. 35-6

Morally Excellent Work, by Miroslav Volf

"Some years ago at a black-tie cocktail party, I was talking to a person who introduced himself to me as a graduate of Harvard University. We were chatting, so I asked him what he did. He responded, 'You will laugh when I tell you what I do.' I said, 'Well, try me.' He replied, 'I'm making urinals.' I said, 'Well most men need them . . .' And he responded, 'I'm designing and producing flush-free urinals.' What an extraordinary thing to do! Water is becoming a very scarce resource, and he was helping save a lot of it, in fact some forty thousand gallons per urinal per year! This person's work was morally excellent, not just morally permissible."

Miroslav Volf in A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good, pp. 31-2

A Sacramental Universe?

My friend Crystal Davy passed this video on to me today. Thank you Crystal. Crystal's music is quite good as well. Check it out: http://www.crystaldavy.com/fr_home.cfm

Seeking Shalom through Faithful Presence

"To be sure, Christianity is not, first and foremost, about establishing righteousness or creating good values or securing justice or making peace in the world. Don't get me wrong: these are goods we should care about and pursue with great passion. But for Christians, these are all secondary to the primary good of God himself and the primary task of worshipping him and honoring him in all they do.

This, I would insist, is not a cheap pietism. The fact is that Christ's victory over the principalities and powers was a victory over the power of oppressive institutions- the sense that reality is what it is, that all is as it should be, that the ways of the world are established and cannot be changed; that the rules by which the world operates are ones we must accept and not challenge. We are not bound by the 'necessities' of history and society but as free from them. He broke their sovereignty and, as a result, all things are possible. It is this reality that frees all Christians to actively, creatively, and constructively seek the good in their relationships, in their tasks, in their spheres of influence, and in their cities.

Against the present realities of our historical moment, it is impossible to say what can actually be accomplished. There are intractable uncertainties that cannot be avoided. Certainly Christians, at their best, will neither create a perfect world nor one that is altogether new; but by enacting shalom and seeking it on behalf of all others through the practice of faithful presence, it is possible, just possible, that they will help to make the world a little bit better."

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 285-86

Silence for a Season

". . . it may be that the healthiest course of action for Christians, on this count, is to be silent for a season and learn how to enact their faith in public through acts of shalom rather than to try again to represent it publicly through law, policy, and political mobilization. This would not mean civic privatism but rather a season to learn how to engage the world in public differently and better."

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, p. 281

Well-Intentioned Unwise Christians

". . . good intentions are not enough to engage the world well. The potential for stupidity, irrationality, cruelty, and harm is just as high today as it has ever been in the past. God save us from Christians who are well-intentioned, but not wise!"

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, p. 276

Political Philosophy Undermining the Gospel

". . . most Christians cannot imagine power in any other way than toward what finally leads to political domination. Thus, it is not surprising that, in conformity to the spirit of the modern age, Christians conceive of power as political power. Christians, like most modern people, have politicized every aspect of public life and private life as well- from church/state issues, education, the media, entertainment and the arts, and the environment to family values, sexuality, and parenting. In this, they mistakenly imagine that to pass a referendum, elect a candidate, pass a law, or change a policy is to change culture. In truth they probably know better, but in terms of the amount of energy expended and money spent, the net effect is a view much like this. While Christian activists (conservative and progressive) have been fairly influential in the political sphere at different times in recent decades, they have embraced a means to power that seethes with resentment, anger, and bitterness for the injury they believe they have suffered. The public and political culture of contemporary Christianity have become defined by such negations. There is nothing illegal about any of this, of course. Christians believe that they have a legitimate right to participate in the democratic process and they are, of course, right. The problem resides with the political culture they not only embrace but have helped to create. The tragic irony is that in the name of resisting the dark nihilisms of the modern age, Christians- in their will to power and the ressentiment that fuels it- perpetuate that nihilism. In so doing, Christians undermine the message of the very gospel they cherish and desire to advance."

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 274-75

A New Paradigm of Being the Church

"This is not the work of a three-step, six-month plan. Nor is it a new strategy at all but a mode of individual and collective being. What I am suggesting again is a new paradigm of being the church in the late modern world. The institutional aspect of faithful presence means that Christians and the church are settling in for the duration.

The Christian tradition has a long history of doing precisely this work in everything from the patronage of the arts and the establishment of schools and universities to the creation of hospitals and institutions that care for the poor and the needy. These were all institutions that practiced faithful presence. The church and Christians everywhere must do this again in ways appropriate to the times. Indeed, there are intellectual, economic, and managerial resources available within the church and among Christians to make a profound difference in every sphere of life- the social welfare of the needy, the environment, education, the arts, academia, business, community formation and urban life, and so on; and at every order of magnitude- the local, the regional, the national, and the international. This will invariably mean collaboration, networking, mutual dependence, and institution-building. At times Christians will go it alone and at times they will partner with those of other faiths and none. But it all should be oriented toward enhancing the well-being of all."

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 270-71

Rejoicing the City

"When the righteous prosper, the city rejoices. . ." -Proverbs 11:10a

The Sovereignty of God . . . Over Some of Life?

"In the 'defense against' paradigm, it is the Evangelicals and Fundamentalists who have fashioned a somewhat unique approach to these issues (revolving around the relationship of faith to vocation and culture). The backdrop for their approach is the dualism created by the division between public (secular) and private (and religious) life inherent in the modern world. As we know, this dualism is both embedded within social institutions and legitimated by political philosophy and they mutually reinforce each other in powerful ways. Though in theory Evangelicals and Fundamentalists believe God is sovereign in all of life, in practice their traditions of pietism actually reinforce this dualism. All of this has resulted in a peculiar approach to faith and vocation. For generations of faithful Evangelicals and Fundamentalists, vocation in the secular world was at best a necessary evil. To the extent that work had 'kingdom significance,' it was a platform for evangelism. The mark of true piety for a committed believer whether in skilled or manual labor or in the realms of business, law, education, public policy, and social welfare, was to lead a Bible study and evangelize their associates in their place of work. In this paradigm, work was instrumentalized- it was regarded as simply a means to a spiritual ends."

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, p. 248

The Death of Death

"For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death." -1 Corinthians 15:25,26 

The death of a pet piranha might seem like a small thing to most of us; however, the death of our pet piranha Gerhardus was met with tears, a sense of loss and sadness for at least my 8-year-old Isaac and 10-year-old Mia. Of course, we had owned Gerhardus for close to seven years before he died and my two older ones had been particularly attached to Gerhardus. We had a short burial ceremony with some neighborhood kids this morning, and as you can see in the picture below, Mia and Isaac (in the Jayhawk shirt) were particularly sad (Calvin seemed OK with everything, as evidenced by his grin in the picture- let's just say God made him a little different than the other two temperamentally-speaking). Well, death is an intruder isn't it? It won't always be that way, and I'm glad that the unhappy faces of my children in the small losses and great ones will not always be.

Neighborhood children gathering with the Hsu kids for a fish burial

Gerhardus being buried

Seeing Politics for What It Is

"Its [the Christian community's] lack of critical distance and reflection about politics is an extension of its failure to critically reflect about the rest of the world they inhabit. In the case of politics and political culture, the Christian community has indeed linked its own future to the success of certain political myths, ideologies, and agendas. Though leaders on the Right and on the Left may plausibly deny that this is a problem for themselves, the realities of this linkage for the movements they lead are sociologically undeniable. To be sure, it would be impossible to completely disentangle the church from any society in which it is found. Christians, like all human beings, are constituted by the particularities of their time and culture, and it is only natural that they should identify with their communities and nation. But on all fronts, the merging of faith and politics/culture is deeply problematic. It is a time for a disentangling.

. . . Politics is always a crude simplification of public life and the common good is always more than its political expression. As we have seen, the expectations that people place on politics are unrealistic for most of the problems we face today are not resolvable through politics. That, however, is not the most serious problem. Far more grave is the way politicization has delimited the imaginative horizon through which the church and Christian believers think about engaging the world and the range of possibilities within which they act. Politics is just one way to engage the world and, arguably, not the highest, best, most effective, nor most humane way to do so. This does not mean that Christians shouldn't 'vote their values' or be active in political affairs. It is essential, however, to demythologize politics, to see politics for what it is and what it can and cannot do and not place on it unrealistic expectations. it cannot realize the various mythic ideals that inspire different Christian communities, it cannot even reduce the tension that exists between the concrete realities of everyday life and the moral and spiritual ideals of the Kingdom of God. At best, politics can make life in this world a little more just and thus a little more bearable.

. . . To decouple the public from the political will open up other options for engaging the world and addressing its problems in ways that do not require the state, the law, or a political party. There are innumerable opportunities not only in art, education, the care for the environment, and the provision of relief for the widow, the orphaned, and sick, but in the market itself to engage the world for the better. Efforts in these directions could entail significant outlays of time, money, and moral commitment, but the consequences for the common good would be extraordinary.

. . . Some argue that what we need is a redefinition of politics, one that is more capacious and capable of absorbing actions, ideas, and initiatives that are independent of the State. The idea here is to reclaim or restore a 'proper' understanding of the political. Such efforts would, in principle, accomplish the same end as I am describing here. This position is certainly worthy of serious debate but as a sociologist who is attentive to the power of institutions, I am inclined to think that all such efforts will be swallowed up by the current ways in which politics is thought of and used. It is why I continue to think that it is important to separate the public from the political and to think of new ways of thinking and speaking and acting in public that are not merely political."

James Davison Hunter in To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 185-86

Creation Mandate and the Tension of Power

". . . to be made in the image of God and to be charged with the task of working in and cultivating, preserving, and protecting the creation, is to possess power. The creation mandate, then is a mandate to use that power in the world in ways that reflect God's intentions. With the Fall, however, the divine nature and potential of human power was compromised. While Christ's life, death, and resurrection does fundamentally alter the relationship of believers to the 'powers' and to power itself, in the time while believers wait for the eschaton, power is inherently tainted and its use inherently compromising of the standards to which Christ beckons.

What this means is that faithful Christian witness is fated to exist in the tension between the historical and the transcendent; between the social realities that press on human existence and the spiritual and ethical requirements of the gospel; between the morality of the society in which Christian believers live and the will of God. These oppositions are a fact of existence for the church and each Christian believer and they pull in conflicting directions- one toward the necessities of survival and the other toward the perfect will of God. There is no place of equilibrium between these oppositions and no satisfying resolutions. In this world, the church can never be in repose. The tension is not lessened by the fact that there are unavoidable ambiguities that inhere in the application of biblical promises, values, and ideals to everyday life. Nor is it lessened by the fact that the love required of the Christian is unlivable, except in flawed approximation."

To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, p. 183

Faithful Presence in All Realms of Life

"The creation mandate (Gen. 1:28) inevitably leads Christian believers to a transformative engagement with the culture in which they find themselves. Yet by its very nature, this engagement will not be neutral in character. whether we like it or not, merely engaging the culture implies the issue and exercise of power. The matter of power is unavoidable. One cannot transcend it or avoid it or pretend it isn't there. The only questions are, how will Christians think about power? What kind of power will Christians exercise? How will Christians, individually and institutionally, relate to the range of powers that operate in the world?

If the analysis I have offered thus far is correct, it would be natural for some to conclude that what is implied here is an alternative way for Christians to pursue, attain, and use political power to achieve faith-based ends. It might be natural but it would also be completely wrong and, in my view, an utter distortion of the creation mandate. This is an interpretation of the creation mandate that Christians should reject entirely. Speaking as a Christian myself, contemporary Christian understandings of power and politics are a very large part of what has made contemporary Christianity in America appalling, irrelevant, and ineffective- part and parcel of the worst elements of our late-modern culture today, rather than a healthy alternative to it. . . .

Let me say further that the best understanding of the creation mandate is not about changing the world at all. It is certainly not about 'saving Western civilization,' 'saving America,' 'winning the culture war,' or anything else like it. The reason is that so much of the discussion surrounding this kind of world-changing is oriented toward the idea of controlling history. The presumption is both that one can know God's specific plans in human history and that one possesses the power to realize those plans in human affairs. There is a fine line between presumption and hope, as Aquinas observed, but in our culture, such presumption nearly always has tragic consequences.

For now, I will only say that the antidote to 'seizing power' in a new way is a better understanding of faithful presence. Consider it this way: the culture matrix from the previous chapter is not just a visual demonstration of Christianity's lack of influence in the larger culture. It is also, and far more significantly, a visual demonstration of its absence (of people, institutions, and other resources) from key areas of culture; an abandonment of the call to faithful presence- irrespective of influence. Not least, the culture matrix is a visual demonstration of where the church is not healthy. A healthy body exercises itself in all realms of life, not just a few. The failure to encourage excellence in vocation in our time has fostered a culture of mediocrity in so many areas of vocation."

To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 94-95 

A Priesthood Sustaining Priests

"The idea of an invisible Church is, of course, always attractive for the simple reason that one chooses in the privacy of one's own mind who are the members and who are not. By contrast, the Church in the New Testament is represented by visible communities of men and women located in places which can be visited and to which letters can be written. This is not to deny the very important point, which was the subject of Chapter 16, that there is a spiritual reality 'in the heavenly places' which is not visible to the eye of flesh but which is the reality which has visible embodiment in these congregations; that there are 'angels' of the churches, spiritual realities which are more than simply the sum of the individual members; and that the 'angels' can be accused of behavior which is not in accordance with the will of God (for example, Rev. 3:15ff.) But the 'angels' do not have any impact on events except as they are represented by visible congregations which have a specific location- whether in the primary geographical sense, or in the sense of location within one of the sectors of public life in a complex and multisectional modern society. I have already said that I believe that the major impact of such congregations on the life of society as a whole is through the daily work of the members in their secular vocations and not through the official pronouncements of ecclesiastical bodies. But the developing, nourishing, and sustaining of Christian faith and practice is impossible apart from the life of a believing congregation. It is therefore important for my thesis to consider, however briefly, the question of the leadership of such congregations.

In some Christian circles it is unfashionable to talk much about the ordained ministry, because of the fear of being guilty of elitism, one of contemporary society's catalogue of unforgivable sins. . . . I hope I have made clear my belief that it is the whole Church which is called to be- in Christ- a royal priesthood, that every member of the body is called to the exercise of this priesthood, and that this priesthood is to be exercised in the daily life and work of Christians in the secular business of the world. But this will not happen unless there is a ministerial priesthood which serves, nourishes, sustains and guides this priestly work. The priestly people needs a ministering priesthood to sustain and nourish it."

The Gospel in a Pluralist Society, pp. 234-35

Exploring a Researchable Question

Some of you may not fully realize this but the purpose of blogging for me for the last year or so has been to assist me in my doctoral work at Covenant Seminary (see this earlier post). I've needed to blog to process my ideas as well as to keep anyone interested in the loop, on the development of my work. So from time to time, I will simply quote sections of my readings that are deeply meaningful to me; certainly this is what I did yesterday with the quotes from James Davison Hunter's book To Change the World. So, admittedly some of my insights might be a bit difficult to follow here; however, for what it is worth, it's helpful for me to write them out. In a word, I'm helped even if you are not, so thank you for your forbearance :-).

My first potential researchable question (that may or not be my dissertation topic) is on the role of God's redemptive aim to redeem not only human hearts but also human institutions. First, I would like for us to consider Romans 8:18-27:

18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.  19 The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed.  20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. 22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.  23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.  24 For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has?  25 But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. 26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.  27 And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will. 

I'd like for us to consider the identification "creation" has with the "children of God" in the passage. I've been intentional to underline the word "groan" and "groaning" in verses 22 and 23 respectively. BOTH groan deeply. Also, both are described here as having a kind of longing. Creation personified "groans" in this place of "waiting in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed" (v. 19). The children of God also groan awaiting the final restoration of our bodies, our full adoption as sons when what is positionally true of us now (Romans 8:16,17), will be entirely true as well in the new heavens and the new earth (v. 23).

What is more, what is the Gracious Spirit doing for us? Identifying with us in our weakness by interceding for us with "groans" (v. 26). At the risk of sounding glib, what the Spirit is doing for us is "feeling our pain." Whose pain? Our pain, not only the pain of God's children but also everything that is fallen about the created order, creational structures if you will. Of course at the core of what we might define as creational structures are: work, marriage and family as outlined in the first couple chapters of the Bible. As the first man and woman came together in marriage to be "fruitful and multiply," they in turn were given the task of multiplying, filling the earth and taking dominion over it (Gen. 1:28): at the most basic level, they did so by working the Garden (Gen. 2:15), the woman being created to come alongside the man (created from his side, the rib- Gen. 2:22). Together as complementary parts, being one, they began taking the raw materials of the earth to form and shape them in a way that would reflect the rule and dominion of God the King. This was the essence of "image-bearing" and "taking dominion," multiplying the just and beautiful rule of God through the world by engaging marriage and family, also by creating, in essence making beautiful and just culture for the sake of the King.

So the work of the Spirit who works in concert with the work of the Father and the Son is participating on behalf of God's children and also on behalf of all of creation. As the Spirit begins to work, God's people are regenerated, sanctified and renewed but also so are human institutions. Consider the words of the Psalmist who says, "When you send your Spirit, they (creational things) are created, and you renew the face of the earth. May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the LORD rejoice in his works" (Psalm 104:30,31). Also, consider how the Sovereign Spirit hovered over creation, participating within the Triune Godhead bringing all things into existence (Gen. 1:2).

So if my researchable question for now is on the role of God's redemptive aim to redeem not only human hearts but also human institutions, then I suppose my question distilled at its essence is "where's the fruit?" In a nutshell, the line of thinking goes something like this, if I expect fruitfulness at some point of the journey of an individual Christian who has received the redemption of Christ, shouldn't I also expect institutional fruitfulness as well in the Church as well as in broader creational structures, i.e. human institutions?

Secondly, if I go with James Davison Hunter's basic contention that Christianity in America is both marginalized as well as weak culture, then we have a question to ask ourselves:

. . . even the most optimistic assessment would lead one to conclude that Christianity in America is not only marginalized as a culture but it is also a very weak culture. For all of the vitality and all the good intention among Christian believers, the whole (in terms of its influence in the larger political economy of cultural production) is significantly less than the sum of its parts. And thus the idea that American Christianity could influence the larger culture in ways that are healthy and humane is, for the time being, doubtful" (To Change the World, p. 92). 

The question is this, why is there less than visible fruitfulness in our human institutions if we would expect no less in the lives of followers of Jesus Christ? Now, a distinction must be made here, for fear that Davison Hunter's point becomes misconstrued. Often when I've talked to others about Davison Hunter's ideas that Christian influence is absent from centers of cultural production and power, the push-back I will often get is that Christians shouldn't seek halls of power nor expect to achieve places of status, etc. After all, look at the early Christians who spent most of their time disenfranchised, persecuted, pushed out to the margins, harassed, beaten, stoned, destitute and mistreated (Hebrews 11:38). So the clarification is this: Davison Hunter is not arguing for God's people to "reach" for power in high places and in elite institutions, rather he is arguing for God's people to be "faithfully present" in such places. Here we might think of the parable of the mustard seed in Matt. 13:31ff. that describes the Kingdom of Heaven as being like a mustard seed that starts small but grows into a large tree with many branches that birds can perch in. It's not so much the reach for power so much as the good work of prayer and investment that go into being desirous of seeing God's people flourish in such places. After all, isn't it Christlike people who have a servant-mindset and a healthy understanding of power that we want in the world's most powerful places? Isn't that a vision of the realization of the Kingdom where even the greatest among us choose to become the least?

Thirdly, another thread that must be pulled out of this "researchable question" of relative fruitlessness of American Christian strength among American institutions is the relative weakness of the American Church as an institution itself. Perhaps the reason for this observation is all too obvious- the American Church is divided among many denominations and movements with very little in terms of institutional collaboration, strength, resourcing and togetherness. In a word, perhaps the reason Christians are broadly scattered across our centers of cultural production, without a significant amount of cultural capital, is in large part because Christ's own institution, the Church, isn't particularly strong itself. At its most basic level, didn't Jesus Himself say that the world would know we're His disciples by the love we have for one another (John 13:35)? Again, before leveling an accusation at this point that Christians are not to seek worldly recognition and affirmation, I push back in this way- isn't it true that Jesus told His disciples to "let your light shine before men that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven" (Matt. 5:16)? Christianity isn't primarily a private affair, rather as Lesslie Newbigin has said, the Gospel is "public truth."

So there is an initial stab at tackling a researchable question that may or may not wind up being my dissertation topic. Thanks for listening!

Good Intentions and Work, Weak Collective Impact

"At one level, it is impossible to deny the extraordinary and genuine vitality in American Christianity today. Ministries of mercy, foreign missions, church planting, and ministries oriented to the care of souls, the needs of the poor, the elderly, and the disabled all flourish and as such, remarkable good is accomplished. But these achievements are largely rooted in and belong to the local church or parish. Para-church ministries have an important place but they are driven by the energy and passion of ordinary Christians and clergy of the local church community. This represents integrity with the best of the tradition. Yet for all of the reasons noted above, the collective impact of the Christian community on the nature and direction of the culture itself is negligible. There are other issues to consider as well.

Earlier I argued that the potential for world-changing is greatest when networks of elites in overlapping fields of culture and overlapping spheres of social life come together with their varied resources and act in common purpose. Is there the possibility of finding common purpose in American Christianity today?

Different people will have different opinions on the matter. Politics has been a realm that has generated some defensive unity among some parts of the Christian community. For example, family law and edge-of-life issues have been sources of political solidarity among conservative Catholics, Evangelicals, and the Reformed. Social justice issues have been the source of political solidarity among their progressive counterparts. Yet apart from politics in these areas, fragmentation seems to be much more prominent tendency. Clearly, there are ways in which the history of Christianity can be told through the history of its divisions and this has not abated in our time. Insofar as Christianity aspires to maintain certain continuities through time, fragmentation is as much of a challenge as it has ever been. The fragmentation of theology and confession has lessened among the Catholic, Reformed and, in some instances, the Evangelical, though it is as deep as it has ever been and probably more widespread among the conservative and liberal within various traditions. There is no question that Christians in their historic traditions want to be united by common core beliefs, even when their ecclesiology varies- agreement on the authority of Scripture, the sovereignty of God, the status of the unbeliever and the purposes of evangelism, and so on- yet when one goes below the surface, one sees very little agreement at all. Certainly the pressures toward denominational, doctrinal, and social fragmentation are significant. Within the traditions, the very meaning of the terms 'Catholic,' 'mainline,' 'Reformed,' and 'Evangelical' are contested. There are disagreements among all who call themselves by these terms as to what the terms mean in the first place.

Nowhere is this disarray more in evidence than among the leadership of the Evangelical movement. As a former president of the National Association of Evangelicals said when asked who the most influential people were giving leadership to the Evangelical movement, 'My answer, I think, is nobody. And that's part of the problem. It's amazing the lack of leadership. Evangelicalism is a bunch of personalities who either are so hung up on their own kingdoms . . . or are so anti-intellectual that [issues of vision and leadership] are just out of their purview.'

. . . even the most optimistic assessment would lead one to conclude that Christianity in America is not only marginalized as a culture but it is also a very weak culture. For all of the vitality and all the good intention among Christian believers, the whole (in terms of its influence in the larger political economy of cultural production) is significantly less than the sum of its parts. And thus the idea that American Christianity could influence the larger culture in ways that are healthy and humane is, for the time being, doubtful."

To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 91-92 

American Christianity's Lack of Cultural Capital

"In the early decades of the twenty-first century as in the last decades of the twentieth, Christian presence in America has been a presence primarily in, of, and for the middle class in everything that this designation means. This is especially true of the Evangelical, Reformed, and Catholic traditions. There are exceptions, of course, but those exceptions tend to prove the rule. Thus, the financial capital that fuels Christianity's religious, social, and political causes is generated primarily from the extraordinarily generous tithing of the ordinary faithful. The considerable political capital American Christianity has amassed exist primarily in its pressure groups and the ability of those groups to mobilize the grassroots, middle-class, church-going voters. The vitality of its cultural capital today is a vitality that resides almost exclusively among average people in the pew rather than those in leadership, on the periphery not the center of cultural production, in tastes that run to the popular rather than the exceptional, the middle brow rather than the high brow, and almost always toward the practical as opposed to the theoretical or the imaginative. There is little taste for 'high culture' especially in Evangelicalism, where the tendency has long been toward translation- making things accessible to the largest number of people. . . .

In terms of the cultural economy, . . . , Christians in America today have institutional strength and vitality exactly in the lower and the peripheral areas of cultural production. Against the prevailing view, the main reason why Christian believers today (from various communities) have not had the influence in the culture to which they have aspired is not that they don't believe enough, or try hard enough, or care enough, or think Christianly enough, or have the right worldview, but rather because they have been absent from the arenas in which the greatest influence in the culture is exerted. The culture-producing institutions of historical Christianity are largely marginalized in the economy of culture formation in North America. Its cultural capital is greatest where leverage in the larger culture is weakest.

. . . the Christians who do operate in positions of social, cultural, and economic influence are neither operating within dense social networks nor working together coherently with common agendas, not least because they are largely disaffected from the local church. There are those with fairly high levels of social and economic capital but it is not linked with high levels of cultural capital. It is fair to say, then, that in any social and culturally significant way, Christians are absent from the institutions at the center of cultural production. The cultural capital American Christianity has amassed simply cannot be leveraged where it matters most."

To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 89-90 

Christian Cultural Production

"Since the late nineteenth century, Evangelicals have invested most of their energies into creating a structure of 'parallel institutions.' Evangelicals are extraordinarily energetic, generating hundreds of millions of dollars through books and magazine publishing, radio, and television. In Evangelical publishing the most prominent publishers are Eerdmans, Baker Publishing Group, Brazos Press, Broadman & Holman Publishers, Good News Publishers/Crossway Books, Gospel Light/Regal Books, Intervarsity Press, NavPress, Paraclete Press, Thomas Nelson Publishers, Tyndale House Publishers, and Zondervan. In the magazine world, there are Christianity Today, World, and Discipleship Journal, among others. In terms of radio programs, there is Breakpoint, Adventures in Odyssey, Creation Moment, Family Life Today, Focus on the Family, Janet Parshall's America, Jay Sekulow Live!, Money Matters, and Our Daily Bread, among many others. In Evangelical television broadcasting, there is the Christian Broadcasting network, Sky Angel, the Trinity Broadcasting Network, and the Daystar Television Network, each of which offers multiple programs for public viewing. There is also a developing Evangelical film industry that has produced dozes of films such as The Omega Code (1999), Left Behind (2000), Jonah: A Veggie Tales Movie (2002), Hangman's Curse (2003), Woman, Thou are Loosed (2004), End of the Spear (2005), and Amazing Grace (2006). In all of this, the production of culture tends to be concentrated in commercial ventures that are often hugely successful.

There are exceptions, of course, yet overall this cultural productivity is characterized by at least three features. First, the works that are produced are almost exclusively directed to the internal needs of the faithful. This insularity is quite striking. The Evangelical world is not only difficult for outsiders to understand (consider the caricatures that abound) but also nearly impossible for them to penetrate. Evangelicals, in other words, offer little by way of a common vocabulary of shared life informed by faith but not exclusive to it. Second, this cultural productivity all tends to operate closer to the margins than to the center of the broader field of cultural production. Evangelicalism boasts a billion-dollar book publishing industry, yet the books produced are largely ignored by the New York Review of Books, the New York Times Book Review, the Washington Post Book World, and other key arbiters of public intellectual argument. Magazines such as Christianity Today, World, or Books and Culture also do well in the Evangelical and Reformed world, yet they do not compete with or counterbalance their secular counterparts, and generally only First Things attracts an audience outside of this particular faith community. Christian television is almost all ghettoized in the small viewer hours of Sunday morning or to the backwaters of cable broadcasting. Noncommercialized art by Christians, as I said, small, vital, and growing through organizations such as Image, Christians in the Visual Arts (CIVA), and the International Arts Movement (IAM), but such efforts are small and constantly underfunded and, like the commercialized art (e.g., Thomas Kinkade), it is typically peripheral to the major galleries and reviews. What is more, this vast commercial empire does not operate in the major centers of culture formation (such as New York City, Washington, Chicago, San Francisco, or Los Angeles) but rather in medium-sized cities on the periphery (such as Wheaton, Illinois; Colorado Springs, Colorado; Orlando, Florida; and Virginia Beach, Virginia). Third, cultural production in the Evangelical world is overwhelmingly oriented toward the popular. Very much like its retail politics, its music is popular music, its art tends to be popular (highly sentimentalized and commercialized) art, its theater is mega-church drama, its publishing is mainly mass-market book publishing with a heavy bent toward 'how-to' books, in magazines are mass-circulation monthlies, its television is either in the format of a worship service or talk show, its recent forays into film are primarily into popular film, and much academic work is oriented toward translation- making the difficult accessible to the largest possible number. While there are exceptions to the rule, overall, the populist orientation of Evangelical cultural production reflects the most kitschy expressions of consumerism and often the most crude forms of market instrumentalism.

As it is with Catholics and mainline Protestants, individual Evangelicals can be found everywhere- in elite research universities, university presses, think tanks and the like- and there they make important contributions. But except for a few areas such as philosophy and American religious history, where they have had a significant presence and influence, their number tends to be very small and their broader impact of no great consequence. Likewise, in literature, there are some talented novelists, poets, and critics in these communities, but here are again their number is few and they too tend to be fairly isolated in their respective fields. Much the same can be said about the Evangelical presence in architecture, the visual arts (painting, sculpture, etc.) and the performing arts (e.g., theater, film, dance, music, and the like). In all of these arenas and others (such as journalism and advertising), there are individual exceptions- extraordinary, remarkable, talented exceptions- but they are exceptions, rather than a normal occurrence. These individuals are present in these spheres, it would seem, more by accident than by design; certainly more as a statistical aberration than through the deliberate cultivation of the churches."

To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World, pp. 86-88

Christ the Lord is Risen Today, Alleluia!

This was our closing song in yesterday's Easter service. It just never gets old does it? Also, I thought I'd add a picture I took while hunting with my friend Dirk Grenemeier back in January.

Christ, the Lord, is risen today, Alleluia!

Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!

Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!

Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply, Alleluia!

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal, Alleluia!

Christ hath burst the gates of hell, Alleluia!

Death in vain forbids His rise, Alleluia!

Christ hath opened paradise, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!

Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!

Once He died our souls to save, Alleluia!

Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ hath led, Alleluia!

Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!

Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!

Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

The Darkness of Good Friday

I was deeply moved by this excerpt from Alexander Schmemann's book For the Life of the World:

And Adam, when he left the Garden where life was to have been Eucharistic- an offering in the world in thanksgiving to God- Adam led the whole world, as it were, into darkness. In one of the beautiful pieces of Byzantine hymnology Adam is pictured sitting outside, facing Paradise, weeping. It is the figure of man himself.  p. 18

Come share with us tonight at Grace Chapel in the darkness of Friday, at our 7pm Tenebrae service.

Seemingly "Secular Works," the Praise of God

"At the heart of the matter is whether work that is not specifically religious can be work done for the glory of God. Another equally important question is whether God calls men to trades and to vocations in this world as part of his unfolding plan or whether these common occupations are too mundane to be included in his will.

These are questions that theologians have grappled with throughout church history. The matter really comes down to how we determine what is holy: in other words, what in this world is set apart for God. In the early centuries of Christianity, the church was forced to continually define itself as distinct from pagan society and this established a simple line of division: the church, its ministers, and even its physical property were holy and everything else wasn't. This thinking continued into the later Middle Ages, but by then it became extreme. There was the world and there was the church and the two were seen as completely different and always at odds. So distinct was the church from the world that a man could literally step over a fence or a line drawn on the ground and find himself stepping from the holy to the profane. The problem became, though, that the daily lives of men were not considered part of the holy. They were part of the secular world, separated from the church and sometimes even from God. Daily work and family, laughter with friends, even the wonders of nature were viewed by many church leaders as separate from more lofty 'heavenly things.'

Reformation leaders like Luther and Calvin, writing in the 1500s, knew that this was not what scripture taught. They instilled, instead, that God called men not just to offices in the church but to every kind of labor and trade. So in their thinking, the farmer was no less holy than the priest, the innkeeper no less ordained by God than the bishop. As Luther wrote, 'What seem to be secular works are actually the praise of God and represent an obedience which is well-pleasing to him.'

The Reformers also taught that while God did not want men to be worldly in character, he nevertheless called them to be active in the world in order to fulfill his will. . . . the Reformers taught that holiness was a matter of conformity to the image of Jesus, which a man ought to exercise as openly in the world as possible. In other words, the Christian shoekeeper or candle maker served his God while he plied his trade as Jesus would- with skill, with excellence, with morality, and with joy. This would do more good in the world than a thousand monks hidden away in monasteries, so the Reformers believed. As Luther expressed in his usual blunt fashion, done to the glory of God, even 'household chores are more to be valued than all the works of monks and nuns.'

The Reformers, then, pulled down the artificial distinction between the sacred and the secular and sent men into the world to serve God by using their skills and trades in his honor. This Protestant ethos of work found its way into the lives of the Guinnesses through the deeply reformed faith of the first Arthur Guinness and certain of his descendants. Many of them understood that brewing could be done as a holy offering, as a craft yielded in service of God. They did not see themselves as secular, but rather as called. They did not see themselves as apart from Christian ministry, but rather as in the Christian ministry of industry and trade. They did not think of their brewing work as a menial way to pay the bills, hoping that they might compensate for such worldliness by giving occasional service to the church. No, they had absorbed the great Reformation ideal that everything a man did was to be done for God and that his calling and his vocation were usually the same thing. They understood that this transformed workbenches into altars and the labor of man's hands into liturgies pleasing to God. . . .

A banker can be called and as pleasing to God as Billy Graham may be when he preaches. A brewer can serve a valuable role in the kingdom of God as a missionary, a priest, or a pope. This is the truth of Christianity and this, too, is a core truth of the Guinness story. It explains much of the Guinness spirit; much of their success and the good that they have chosen to do in the world."

The Search for God and Guinness, pp. 156-159

Inordinate Desires and Returning to Normal

When did Jayhawk basketball become so important to me? I wish I could answer that question. Maybe it was when I first attended a KU basketball camp in 1979 as a 3rd grader. Maybe it was when I attended my first game at the historic Allen Fieldhouse in 1980. Maybe it was when in 1986 as a 9th grader, almost all of the boys in my class got flat-tops, because the 1986 KU team that made it to the Final 4 were all sporting flat-tops; they got the flat-tops because the 1952 KU team that won the NCAA championship all had flat-tops as well. Maybe it was when in my 20s as a young Presbyterian minister, I learned that James Naismith (the inventor of the game and first coach at KU) was also a Presbyterian minister. Maybe it's always been important to me and that some people are born what they are? I don't know.

Recently my philosopher friend Steve Odmark (teaches philosophy at a college in the twin cities), along with his family, came to stay with us for a few days. We watched one of the games and then we talked about "inordinate desires." Steve commented that he thought my desires for KU basketball were inordinate, i.e. excessive, too much, etc. This was after we watched the NC State game and I was up pacing, wringing my hands, beside myself in moments, etc. I responded to Steve, "I agree that they (my desires) probably are (inordinate), but it's complicated too!"

I will say this- I prayed about it and told God He could do whatever it was He wanted to do with my desires, as I'm unable to change them nor am I fully convinced that such a deep love for an institution like the University of Kansas is a bad thing necessarily. Perhaps the grace and mercy of God is such that every March I grapple with the "inordinate desire" question [believe you me, it's not always easy being a Jayhawk fan- despite often being the favored team to cut down the nets at the end of the tournament, we've only won the whole thing 2xs in my 40 years you know? (1988, 2008)], but that the first weekend in April always comes to a close and regardless of the results (a loss of course to Kentucky last Monday night), life returns back to normal, and I get on with things. . . .

Oh, but wait . . . there's still the recruiting to follow. Let's go get Tony Parker and who knows? Maybe a long-shot at this point but Shabazz Muhammad as well!

(http://www.zagsblog.com/2012/03/24/muhammad-parker-to-announce-by-april-11/)

Rock Chalk Jayhawk!