Randy Greenwald

Concerning Life as It Is Supposed to Be

The End of the World, Part III

Subsequent to my posting titled “The End of the World” we had, as you all know, an earthquake and tsunami which did incomprehensible damage to the people and nation of Japan. That touches us all differently, but for some like the young man in my church who grew up in Japan, the impact was deeply felt.

But the earthquake led inevitably to people determining that this was another harbinger of the end of the world, because Jesus mentioned earthquakes in some of his prophetic teaching. I understand the longing for Jesus’ return. But there have been earthquakes in abundance since Jesus spoke, and wars, and rumors of wars. It may be that we are misreading those texts.

Which leads me to encourage your listening to the last couple of Christian education classes at the church I pastor. Ra McLaughlin, a superb teacher, has been teaching a class on basic biblical interpretation which we have only recently begun to record. But the two classes we recorded, posted here and here, have both been on the subject of the interpretation of prophecy. I think that all should find these very helpful.

Finally, though, as people in these matters wrestle with and debate the questions which swirl around the issues of life and death, present and future (in theological parlance, ‘eschatology’), Richard Lovelace has the best word:

“We must also insist that there is one factor of belief which almost always tends to disturb the practical usefulness of any eschatology: the notion that we can be certain now where we are on the eschatological time line. This is especially true if we assume we are near the end of the line, as so many have in past history….” (Richard F. Lovelace, Dynamics of Spiritual Life, page 413)

The End of the World, Part II

A couple of weeks ago I posted with the title, “The End of the World.” One reader saw my title and thought I was referring to Harold Camping’s latest date for the return of Jesus. I was unaware that Mr. Camping was still in the date setting business, having been wrong so often before, or that there were still those willing to take him this seriously.

But as these things go, I was reminded of the simple adage that in pointing a finger at another, there are at least three pointing back at me. Harold Camping is easy to mock and easy to scorn. His mishandling of scripture and his rejection of church history and the wisdom of fellow Christians are all worthy of critique. His mistakes and his sin have led many astray, and that is to be lamented and condemned.

And yet what of me? Reflecting on this reminds me of the fear that often comes upon me when I contemplate stepping into the pulpit. I am charged with the responsibility of rightfully presenting the truth of God. And so I am driven to ask, “Am I getting it right?” Knowing the importance of doing so, and knowing as well my weaknesses, I am in awe at the weight of the task.

The preacher’s frustration is to think that no one is listening. His fear is the knowledge that they are.

[That might even be “tweetable”, there!]

Love Is Poured Out

I was reading this afternoon a wonderful but little known book on marriage with the pleasingly provocative title Naked and Unashamed by Bill Mills of Leadership Resources, International, a dear friend and model of Christ-like leadership.

As Bill gently and wisely lays out the Biblical notion of submission, he reminds us of this:

It is the law that is measured out. It is the law that always asks the questions, “How far do I have to go? How much is enough?” But love never asks these questions because love is never measured out. Love is always poured out. (page 60)

That is so wise, and meshes so well with the previous post that I determined to try your patience with one more post today to share it with you.

UnTweetable Virtue

I just can’t do it.

Here is an example of something worthy which simply cannot be compressed into 140 characters.

The Christianly virtuous person is not thinking about his or her own moral performance. He or she is thinking of Jesus Christ, and of how best to love the person next door.

The quote comes from page 240 of N. T. Wright’s After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters. I resonate with this. Yes, the statement begs the question of what it means to love the person next door. But if my passion is answering the question of how to love him or her rather than a passion of wanting to know the rules, I’m a fair way further down the path toward Christ-likeness, it seems to me.

Footnoting Sermons

This is not the place to enter into the whole question of when and how a preacher should reference his sources. Suffice it to say that I’m very concerned to bring to a sermon what are the convictions of my own heart expressed as much as possible in my own words, but at the same time I acknowledge that I have many ‘teachers’ pouring their own thoughts and ideas into the pool from which I draw my thoughts and words. It is not always possible to see or necessary to acknowledge all of those connections.

Except, when quoting directly.

When I am quoting another directly and consciously, it IS important that I acknowledge that, which I try always to do.

In the sermon I preached this past Sunday and to which I make reference here, I quoted two or three times from an excellent paper on the subject of hell written by Tim Keller and posted on the Redeemer web site. At least once, however, those listening to the audio will not hear me give proper acknowledgement. When I listened to the sermon, I was horrified to hear the quote and to realize that in merely listening to the sermon it is possible to judge that I was presenting Keller’s words as my own.

That would be an understandable, but erroneous judgment. In order to give opportunity for people to read as well as hear the quotes I use, I include them as a part of a video presentation which is projected as I preach. Visually, the words I was speaking were attributed to Pastor Keller, which I judged, in a live setting, to be adequate. I had not thought until now the implications for those who only have access to the audio. I will be more careful in the future.

Tweeter Virtue

I started my Twitter experience as @rg7878, according to my profile, on October 14, 2008.

Must have been a boring day.

Curiosity mixed with a dose of ADD drove me to sign up. The same keeps me coming back. I recently renewed an exploration of Twitter, at the impetus indirectly of @andejohnson and @frailestthing, and am finding again the problem I’ve found every time: I cannot say ANYTHING worth saying in 140 characters or less.

Brevity is a virtue, the soul of wit, they say. And I’m a big fan of Strunk’s rule #17: Omit needless words. And yet, as with most virtues, this one just seems out of my reach.

But if you still want to follow my aimless wanderings in the Twitter universe, I’d love to have you. It would be tweet of you to follow me.

Bell’s Hell

The buzz in theological culture has been about Pastor Rob Bell‘s take on the future in his recently published Love Wins.

But it seems that the buzz in the broader culture has been Nebraska pastor Todd Burpo’s take on the future titled Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy’s Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back.

Judging from his released promotional video, Pastor Bell’s concern is hell. Judging from the title, Pastor Burpo’s concern is heaven. So far, according Amazon.com stats, heaven is winning. It is #1 in sales by the online service. Hell is lagging behind at #4, but is no doubt creeping slowly upwards.

I have read neither book, and tend to avoid investing precious reading time in books that prove, when the dust settles, to have been fads. In this regard, Rob Bell will prove to be the least faddish. His following is tremendous and his influence substantial.

But apart from the similarity in content, I wonder if both books are drawing their communicative power from caricature. Caricature sells better than truth.

Heaven Is for Real is the account of a little boy who recovers from surgery with stories of having been to heaven. The family claims that he emerged with details of family members of which he should have had no knowledge, proving to them that he had really met these people in heaven. (How did they know, by the way, that it was heaven? Perhaps “Purgatory Is for Real”.)

According to the publisher’s blurb,

“He describes the horse that only Jesus could ride, about how ‘reaaally big’ God and his chair are, and how the Holy Spirit ‘shoots down power’ from heaven to help us….[the insights show that] Jesus really loves children, and be ready, there is a coming last battle.”

Caricature? Sure. Whether the little boy simply projected onto his memory palette the imagery from his Sunday school classes infused with a vivid imagination or not we cannot say. But it is curious that what he sees corresponds to popular religious imagination.

The popularity of this suggests that for many of us, the revelation of Scripture, with its breadth and depth and, yes, ambiguity regarding the future is insufficient. My experience as a pastor tells me that there are those, perhaps many, who read such books to confirm their stereotype of the future and are then unable to hear a more nuanced and carefully constructed vision taken from the pages of Scripture and rooted in solid theological tradition.

We often prefer caricature to truth.

And that may explain the popularity of Rob Bell’s presentation. Bell has been charged with challenging the historic Christian teachings on hell and judgment and eternity. He has been accused of universalism, a charge he has denied. I can’t interact with the charges, not having read the book, though Martin Bashir of MSNBC does a standout job of challenging him to be specific about what he believes.

In Bell’s online promotional video of his book, he raises intriguing questions, beginning with this one:

“Will only a few select people make it to heaven and will billions and billions of people burn forever in hell?”

He presents the question in such a way that we are led to imagine that he is indeed presenting the orthodox, historic, Christian position. If that is what he means, it is a caricature. And caricatures are easy to deflate and overcome.

Just as there are those who promote the simple view of heaven ‘seen’ by Pastor Burpo’s son, there are Christians who teach that the central Christian message is that God sends people to hell. There are Christians who insist that heaven will be populated by only a few, rather than a number greater than the sands on the sea shore or the stars in the sky.

Such caricatures are to be lamented, confronted, and corrected.

I understand Bell’s desire as a pastor to present a message that can be heard and comprehended in a culture which seriously questions Christianity. This past Sunday I preached on a subject which required me to address the subjects of sin and wrath and judgment and hell. We had a number of visitors. I have wondered since, “Is there another way I could have said what I said which would have communicated to the unbeliever or to the jaded in a more effective way.” And I have wondered whether those who were there would be back and, if not, if the specific message preached would keep them from returning. But I have not been asking whether the message I was communicating needed to be re-imagined.

The jury is out as to whether I’ll pick up Bell’s book and read it. I probably will. But one question he asks in the promotional video is one that I can endorse enthusiastically and with great passion:

“What we believe about heaven and hell is incredibly important because it exposes what we believe about what God is and what God is like.”

That is precisely what makes these questions so critical, and makes any misrepresentation or caricature, whether innocently by four year old boys or knowingly by fifty year old pastors, so troubling.

Get Low

I mentioned a movie in the sermon yesterday, one starring Robert Duvall, Sissy Spacek, and Bill Murray, called Get Low.

I recommend the movie, and if you want to read a great review of the film’s merits, you can do so here. Mike is the pastor of Orlando’s University Presbyterian Church.

Well written, thoughtful, redemptive. Very good.

Marking My Books

I was pondering the other day the value of e-books as all 1691 grams (about 3 3/4 pounds) of Stephen King’s Under the Dome pressed heavily upon my chest in bed.

Those familiar with Mortimer Adler (How to Read a Book) will know that reading while reclined breaks one of Professor Adler’s fundamental rules of reading. Those familiar with Stephen King will know that his aren’t the kinds of books that Professor Adler was concerned about me learning to read, so that’s all good.

I was mulling over, then, the fact that e-books have NOT created an environment which allows me easily to mark, star, underline, highlight, annotate or otherwise react to what I’m reading. With this, Professor Adler would agree:

“Reading a book should be a conversation between you and the author. Presumably he knows more about the subject than you do; if not, you probably should not be bothering with his book. But understanding is a two-way operation; the learner has to question himself and question the teacher. He even has to be willing to argue with the teacher, once he understands what the teacher is saying. Marking a book is literally an expression of your differences or your agreements with the author. It is the highest respect you can pay him.” (page 49)

Many books elicit a response from me that demands I mark. And an e-book does not make that easy. Kevin Charles Redmon agrees:

At present, annotating an e-book with a stylus is about as handy as marking up a Norton anthology with a Crayola. The amount of clicking required to two-finger type a note using the Kindle’s mini keyboard is even worse.

King and Kindle I think would make a match that even Professor Adler could endorse. (The Kindle App fully loaded with books I don’t think adds much to the basic 140 grams of my iPhone.)

But for most everything else, I’m sticking with a paper book and a pencil.

And a soft couch.

I’ll Be Dumber

I’m sad. I have benefited a great deal from free digital access to the New York Times over the past several years. However, this was announced via email today:

Today marks a significant transition for The New York Times as we introduce digital subscriptions. It’s an important step that we hope you will see as an investment in The Times, one that will strengthen our ability to provide high-quality journalism to readers around the world and on any platform. The change will primarily affect those who are heavy consumers of the content on our Web site and on mobile applications.

Their decision to move to a paying model is, no doubt, what an ailing news industry has needed. But the end result is that those of limited resources are cut out of the loop. The $60 I would need to pay, annually, is far beyond what I can justify.

I knew this was coming, and was hoping for a pricing strategy similar to what one finds with iPhone apps – a low price offset by huge volume. Here’s hoping that market pressure brings the price down.

Until then, I’ll be dumber.

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