IVP - Strangely Dim

The Triumph of Evel?

I was flipping through the February 2008 issue of Christianity Today (which, incidentally, features the first of several guest columns by longtime friend of Strangely Dim, Al Hsu--check it out, yo!) and came across the "Passages" sidebar, which reports on momentous events in the church and the culture. Included among such momentous events are notable deaths, and included in this month's "Passages" were the deaths of theologian T. F. Torrance and thrill-seeker Evel Knievel. And, considering that word count and column space are premiums in periodical publishing, it appears that February 2007 marks the triumph of Evel in Christianity Today.

I suppose you could chalk it up to alphabetical order or chronology (Knievel died two days before Torrance), but beyond the order of the list is the troubling question of word count and thumbnail image. Staring me in the face at the top of the "Passages" sidebar is a picture of a man "known for his death-defying motorcycle stunts," decked out in his collared jumpsuit. Ninety-five words about Las Vegas and a late-in-life conversion to Christianity later, we move on to the unpictured Thomas F. Torrance, whose ninety-four-year life (compared to sixty-nine for Evel) included a stint as grand poobah of the Church of Scotland and whose widespread influence on a generation of theologians (including a few of my colleagues at InterVarsity Press), was summarized in a mere seventy-two words.

I mean no disrespect to Christianity Today. I just find it funny, the death of two icons of their generations notwithstanding. It's long been my contention that "evil [or, in this case, Evel] is definitely sexier than good [in this case, scientific theology]." The "Passages" sidebar reminds me that generally, in the eyes of the general public, pop culture is sexier than the work of the church.

This doesn't have to be the case, however. I mean really, if we grant that all of life is under the lordship of Christ and thus legitimately subject to theological exploration, shouldn't the church have a say as to what's sexy? I refer you to the recent thoughts of our colleague at IVP Academic and fellow blogger, Dan Reid, as he puts thrill-seeking in its proper context over at Addenda & Errata.

When you put it that way, Torrance will always come out on top.

I Vote for Waffles

True confession: I'm waffling. Floundering, if you will. And not because I've been eating a lot of breakfast food and fish. Why am I feeling even more strangely dim than usual, you ask? Because we're in the thick of the primaries for the presidential campaign, and because we're actually in the year of the election now, and because I don't know what I think.

Politics and I are like--well, maybe like third cousins: I've heard some good stories about him, I've heard some bad stories about him, we only meet about once every two or four years. Mostly we live as indifferent relatives, with occasional, hard-to-ignore reminders that we are, in fact, related by blood.

Some days it seems to me like politicians are the ones who can really make a difference; they can make the systemic changes needed to really help people. But other days it's hard for me to tell if there's anyone in it for anything other than themselves.

During election time, I generally get cynical: frustrated by the blame on all sides and the obscure mistakes dragged out of candidates' pasts, tired of hearing people talk without saying anything, and sick at the thought of all the money that gets spent on campaigns that could go to, say, paying off the national debt, providing health insurance or improving education (Oh man/woman--to be politically correct--I'm starting to sound like a politician).

But I also think voting is a great privilege, one that I want to take seriously. I appreciate the freedom we have in America. I'm grateful that there are people pursuing careers in public service, fighting for a better life for others through good government. I'm glad--though I cannot for the life of me understand it--people want to run for president.

Now, I realize that some of you Strangely Dim friends may be way ahead of me. Election years might be your favorite years. You might be watching and rewatching every debate, hanging posters of your favorite candidate from your windows, planning your next vacation to said favorite candidate's hometown to take pictures of the house they grew up in and interview their dentist and elementary teachers, and taping said favorite candidate's photo to your travel coffee mug.

Or you might be feeling like I am: a little overwhelmed by it all, interested but confused, conflicted over issues and candidates.

If that's you, here's a story for you, and maybe some help. A coworker of mine and Dave's sent around a link to a charmingly helpful and seemingly objective quiz (probably one of many out there) that helps you see how you match up with candidates on particular issues. Dave took the quiz. I took the quiz. Here were my results: my last-choice candidate and my first-choice candidate (preresearch preferences) tied for first as far as a match for me. For Dave, the two candidates he's most inclined to support wound up in sixth and tenth place, while the candidate he's most turned off by came in first, and someone he's never even heard of took fourth place. How is this helpful, you might ask? It's helpful because it reminds us of the importance of really knowing the issues more than getting caught up in the hype of campaigns and candidates. I had to leave some questions blank, to be honest, because I didn't know enough about the issue to say what I think. The website, however, is a helpful starting point for me in becoming more familiar with candidates and their stance on particular issues.

So that's where I'm at in my election processing: a bit muddled, but relieved I have till November to figure out what I think. Take heart. Persevere; you won't see donkeys and elephants and red, white and blue forever every time you turn on the television or close your eyes. This election year, like all those before it, will end. But, while we're in the speech-making season, allow me to offer a few more parting words (hey, if everyone else gets to make a speech, I want a little air time too.) Ahem. In this election year, 2008, whether you choose to vote or not, and whomever you choose to vote for: choose thoughtfully. What happens in America affects millions of people, here and around the world. Know the issues. Know the candidates. Know what you're choosing and why. Waffling or not, go grab a real waffle and spend some time researching, listening, praying. I promise (and I can back it up), it won't be time wasted. (If you get syrup on your keyboard, though, don't blame me.)

The Words We Use: New Words for a New Year

I'm feeling foursquare about using new words this year. Actually, not so much new words as two very old words in a new way: thank you.

Now, if you know me, you've heard me use those words often. I am unfailingly polite. I always say my pleases and thank-yous, and write thank-you notes after Christmas and birthdays. (I am not, however, unfailingly punctual, so the note may unfortunately arrive a few months late. My apologies if you haven't received a thank-you note yet for the birthday gift you sent me in July.) In high school I think I may, on occasion, have driven a few opponents crazy during tennis matches by my thank-yous when they returned balls to me. I sign my e-mails and end the messages I leave in voicemail with "thanks," even when I haven't asked the other person to do anything and am, in fact, getting back to them about something they need me to do. Thank you, in other words, rolls off my tongue easily.

And I mean it, of course, when I say it. But sometimes I think it comes out a little too easily. Without enough thought. Without me lingering in the gratitude, or really pondering what another person did or said, what they may have sacrificed on my behalf.

Now, I realize that if a word is going to slip out without you noticing, "thank you" is a pretty good choice. No need to cover the kids' ears. But the words are too important to say thoughtlessly. Gratitude is too important a gift to slide over or miss.

Even more, I'm noticing all the times I have opportunity to say thank you (followed by specific words of affirmation) and don't: to coworkers who are excellent at their jobs and who make mine easier, to my landlord who takes such good care of our building, to the pastors at my church who give so much, to family and friends who overwhelm me with their generosity. Every day I miss many opportunities to say thank you.

My goal is not, of course, to simply increase the number of times I say thank you in a day, as if reaching a certain quota will land me a spot on Oprah. Too many thank-yous will most likely drive those around me crazy. And repetition, after all, can cheapen a word, to the point where no one believes you're sincere when you say it. But saying thank you more intentionally, with specifics after it, will, I believe, cultivate a deeper attitude of genuine gratitude in me.

Our consumer culture, obviously, tries to make us discontent and nurses a baleful spirit of jealousy, bitterness, anger. Personal struggles have also added a deeper bitterness in my heart that comes out more times than I 'm willing to admit, along with an impatient longing to move out of the stuck places I find myself in. But intentional thank-yous to God and others force me to see what's good, what's true, and help me recognize the gifts around me in people and circumstances.

So I've determined to start and end each day with thanksgiving. Some days, I suspect, I will say my thank-yous to God with gritted teeth, and there will be long pauses between the first and second item while I rack my brain for something to thank him for; my vision, unfortunately, can be extremely dim and extraordinarily unimaginative. But the intentional stopping and thinking of what I'm truly grateful for, and the act of actually saying thank you to God in recognition that he is good, and he gives good gifts, seem like hopeful steps toward becoming a truly grateful person, whose heart and mouth overflow with thanks in genuine gratitude for what others and God give.

So let me say to you: thank you for reading, for commenting, for being willing to let me process and share the ugly and beautiful with you. I'm truly grateful.

Life Verses Versus Living Verses

I still remember the first passage of Scripture that compelled me to take notes as I read: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough worries of its own" (Matthew 6:34). I liked it because of the implicit paradox: there's plenty to worry about, so relax; you need to worry at a sustainable pace. For a time I designated it as my "life verse."

The quest for a life verse has wide appeal. Individuals and organizations alike pursue the practice. InterVarsity Press turned to the Word of God for a means of encapsulating our corporate mission in our tagline--"Heart. Soul. Mind. Strength."--quoting Jesus' quotation of the Deuteronomic Shema to explain that we publish holistically, integratively, from a Christian perspective. Likewise, Likewise Books effectively adopted Jesus' exhortation to "go and do likewise" as our name and tagline to evoke the active, thoughtful, compassionate faith of the good Samaritan for our publishing program.

So between myself and my employer, I am well versed in the art of finding that one key phrase to organize your thinking, to focus your mission, to represent yourself to the world. But the practice has its blind spots. A friend of mine tells me that the Christian satire magazine The Wittenburg Door used to have as one of its favorite verses 1 Chronicles 26:18: "At Parbar westward, four at the causeway, and two at Parbar" (KJV). By aligning itself with such an obscure reference, the Door was challenging the notion of a single life verse, daring its contemporaries to figure out what eternal truth they had in their finite wisdom determined was more important than every other statement contained in the Old and New Testaments.

Lately I've been enjoying the music of artists such as Sufjan Stevens, Half Handed Cloud and, most recently, the Danielson Family, all of whom in their songwriting take a playful approach to Scripture. This music isn't irreverent by any stretch--in fact, some of it is profound in ways that more radio-friendly music rarely achieves--but it's quirky, odd, an acquired taste. From Sufjan's reflections on Isaiah 55 in "All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands" to Half Handed Cloud's description of a purge of vice among the Israelites in "Let's Go Javelin'" and the Danielson Family's similarly scripturally rooted "Singers Go First" and "We Don't Say Shut Up," these songwriters have found a way to dance around the Bible in a way that rings true to the text without being cliched, doctrinaire, humdrum.

I find that my appreciation for these songwriters has affected my approach to Scripture. These days, rather than look for the one verse that would make a good tattoo, I tend to read any given passage and imagine what it would be like to actually feel the emotions being conveyed, to actually perform the actions being described, to firmly believe the assertions being made. It's made Bible reading more vibrant to me, more creative, more playful, more--dare I say it?--fun.

I've had fun with the Bible before. When I was in school my friends and I would giggle our way through passages that mention people's private parts, portray particularly gruesome deaths or describe bowel movements. I suppose my new discipline is similar to that earlier, sillier practice, only now without the crass irreverance. I think maybe I'm approaching the far side of simplicity as it relates to the Bible, where God's Word has moved from an archaic jumble of weird words describing ancient odd events, to a desperate search for one Word that justifies my existence, to an embrace of the Word of God as a generous gift.

Or something like that.

Love Is All We Need

I have a mild confession to make: I like angry music.

I don’t like hateful music--at least not most hateful music--but I do like angry music. I listen to it a fair bit. Who can deny the potency of a line as simple as “We don’t need no education” or “This ain’t my American dream”? These folks are so angry they use contractions; they’re so angry they use bad English.

Something in my upbringing--maybe because despite my surname I'm largely Irish, maybe because I live in post-Watergate America, maybe because I always got picked last for dodgeball--made me predisposed to think that anger is the most efficient path to truth, that no matter how clever they both were, there was something simply more profound about John Lennon singing “Instant Karma’s gonna get you” than Paul McCartney singing “Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs; what’s wrong with that?”

Then again, what is wrong with that?

The bias that’s become so prevalent in our culture is that truth emerges out of anger, that we are most right when we are most outraged, and that we ought to be outraged when we’re right.

I’ve watched enough campaign coverage by now, and 24-hour news channels prior to that, to know that news reported without snarkiness is not really considered news. We’ve been taught, even conditioned, to create truth by speaking our opinions in our outside voices, and to defend truth by escalating our rhetoric. We are, as a culture, cultivating our inner angry musicians.

Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you that such a life is not a life worth living.

It’s that kind of life, in fact, that the apostle Paul was called out of. We first meet Paul in the seventh chapter of Acts, where using the name Saul he joins the religious authorities in Jerusalem as they throw stones at a follower of Jesus until he is dead. Saul apparently doesn’t throw a stone himself; perhaps he has too lofty political aspirations to get his hands so dirty. But we’re told that “the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul . . . and Saul approved of their killing [Stephen]” (Acts 7:58--8:1).

Saul soon after that began going from house to house, dragging Christian men and women to prison simply for being Christian. In fact he was still, in the words of the biblical book of Acts, “breathing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples” when he heard the voice of God tell him to cut it out, to lighten up and to turn his life around.

Fast forward a couple of decades and we see that this angry young man has done just that. Saul, the best and brightest of the young religious zealots of his day—a kind of Barack Obama on steroids, in traffic, with rabies—has taken the name Paul and written the following beginning to his letter to the Philippians:

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, To all God’s holy people in Christ Jesus at Philippi, together with the overseers and deacons: Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1:1-11 TNIV)

That's not an angry song; that's a love song. And not some sappy, pollyannic prom theme either. This is love tested by time, distance and pain. This is love that gives any anger its proper context, because it's love in the spirit of the God who made us and the Savior who died for love of us.

So good riddance, 2007. We don't need no evil, no injustice, no sin, no victimization, no violence, no power plays, no vitriol or calculated rhetoric. In 2008, by the grace of God, all we need is love.

Love is all we need.