Faith and relevance in the 21st century

Author: soulthoughts (Page 38 of 53)

Book Review – The Vertical Self

Mark Sayers’ second book, The Vertical Self, further develops the theme of his earlier work, The Trouble with Paris, by emphasising that only a deep and passionate relationship with Jesus can save us from falling prey to the whims and whispers of our culture of consumerism.

The book is generally aimed at the young adults of Generation Y. This generation is often known to be one that is characterised, at least in part, by self-centredness and a sense of entitlement. What makes me both sad and angry is that this level of self-centredness is almost equally characteristic of many Christians who really live no different to the rest of the world. What a far cry this is from the Christians of the 1st century. Author Robert Wilken says that the early Christians often did not have an answer to the philosophical attacks thrown at them by the pagans of the day. But that wasn’t how they won the Roman Empire. They won the Empire by the quality of their lives, to the extent that by the time Constantine made Christianity the State religion early in the 4th century, half the Empire was Christian. It is a tragedy of modern-day Christendom that much of the church has nowhere near that level of influence and impact. An example of this is seen when Sayers reveals the seduction and confusion that many Christian leaders are exposed to, leading to them “unconsciously starting to confuse their calling with self-promotion as they were lured into the cult of cool”.

It is difficult to review this work without wanting to quote large slabs of it; such is its importance to and insightfulness of the malaise of the 21st century church. Like the frog placed in cold water that is slowly being brought to the boil, much of the church is not even aware that it is being held captive more to the culture of the day than to the liberating life and message of Jesus. To this end, Sayers makes the point that “in earlier centuries, the belief that humans were made in the image of God was…the cornerstone upon which identity was built”. No longer is this the case today though. Sayers believes that “we are now in an age where, for the first time since the birth of the church, the vertical self is not the dominant influence on Western culture’s understanding of self”.

Sayers defines the vertical self as a combination of Judaeo-Christian belief in God-given identity and a Greek belief in virtuous living. It explains the way that identity is developed by being part of a greater order. Further on, he says that the idea of the vertical self is a worldview that leads to a belief in the eternal, the desire to cultivate one’s spirituality so that one moves upward on the path toward becoming more like God. Compare this to the horizontal self, where we try to gain our sense of identity from our peers and from trying to measure up to what is sexy, cool, and glamorous. In fact, this book is divided into chapters that take into account such cultural phenomena as the social self of sexy, the social self of cool, and the social self of glamorous, all of which are ways we act out an image of ourselves. This is what Sayers calls our public image, and it is what many Christians now base their sense of self on instead of basing it on the fact of being made in the image of God.

The message that Sayers conveys throughout this book is one which I believe needs to be the core message of the church to the 1st world; that is, that only more intimacy with Jesus will save us from being sucked into the lie that the lure of our current culture will bring us the life we have always wanted. Tragically, it is a message that the church needs to hear just as much as the rest of the world.

The roots of the malaise of the horizontal self go deep indeed, so deep in fact that they speak to the very core of who we are as human beings. One of Sayers’ most profound insights is that “in a secular culture…religion, spirituality, tradition, and culture cannot tell a wider story that offers the individual a sense of place and meaning, hence the creation of the horizontal self and the creation and cultivation of a public image being paramount”. The meta-narrative of the Bible is no longer the foundation of our culture.

Sayers goes on to say that, in our culture, we no longer try to find ourselves. Instead we act. Identity is exchanged for imagery. Said in this way, Sayers’ message reveals Jesus’ message of building one’s house on the rock of the vertical self rather than on the shifting sands of the horizontal self as being incredibly relevant to our 21st century Western culture. For those who are tired of the failed promises of the horizontal self, Jesus once again shows himself to be the answer. The age-old words, ‘come to me all you who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest’ whisper across the ages to a culture lost in a sea of failed promises and long-forgotten ideals. The tragic result of a culture lost in the sea of the horizontal self is a life that gradually tears at our psyches.

An interesting observation that Sayers makes in this book, and one with which I agree, is that, often, the more you embed your identity in a vertical sense of self, the more people living under a horizontal self will see something I you that will draw them to you. The vertical self can be recaptured when we commit ourselves to the God who has set eternity in the human heart (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

Overall, the main ideal that Sayers is calling people to in The Vertical Self is a mark of character that seems so old-fashioned that even for many Christians it conjures up negative connotations. That mark of character is holiness. Holiness, as Sayers describes it, is when we are the people God created us to be. It is wholeness, centredness and connectedness. Christians have often given holiness a bad name. We have given off an image of holiness as being closer to legalism than grace. We have given off the image that a holy person is someone who doesn’t swear, doesn’t smoke, and doesn’t have extra-marital sex. All of these things may indeed be marks of a holy person, but they do not by any means define holiness on their own. Ultimately a holy person is a person of grace. And the best example of a holy person I know is Jesus. Being God in person, we are told in the Old Testament that we are to ‘be holy as I am holy’. Then in John’s gospel, we are told that grace and truth came through Jesus. The irony of how holiness is often viewed compared to the life of Jesus is seen in the fact that Jesus was the one who spoke out against the Pharisees for their excessive legalism, and he was the most holy person who ever lived.

Having said all of the above, I did not find myself agreeing with all of what Sayers was bringing across. For instance, he says that, in a culture ensconced in the view of the horizontal self, when we see public figures found out, we chide them for being caught, for not being able to keep up the game of illusion. However the recent example of Tiger Woods would seem to contradict this view. The case of Woods’ infidelity is one where I believe the huge media interest was not because he failed to keep up an illusion, but because he really was living a lie, especially as he claimed to be a family man. And Australians still don’t buy in-authenticity.

That criticism aside, The Vertical Self is a must-read for church leaders today, particularly those in ministry to Generation Y. For me, the marvel of this book is seen in its final paragraphs. Sayers sees this book as his gift to us, the readers. In words that could have been peened by C.S. Lewis or Philip Yancey, he describes his hope that this gift will “work as a key, opening a doorway out of the cramped, stale confines of the horizontal self, filling you with the gusts of fresh air perfumed with the scent of eternity”.

It is only when we are enmeshed in Jesus, in the life of the vertical self, that we are able to resist the lies and deceptions of our culture which tell us that we can have the life we have always wanted and we can have it now. The Vertical Self is a wise and timely book that speaks volumes not just to our culture, but to the culture of the church in the 21st century. Sayers’ thinking has matured since The Trouble with Paris. I don’t know Sayers personally, but this latest book reveals a maturity that I believe is borne only out of a deepening faith and passion for Jesus and His ways – a life lived in the vertical self. That is what makes it so authentic.

To what shall I compare the kingdom? Let's dream a little…

Some time ago a group of people of which I am a part were asked how we would explain the Kingdom of God to a person with no biblical background. We had to be careful to avoid any ‘Christian-ese’! I immediately thought of how Brian McLaren likes to talk of the dream of God, following on from Martin Luther King’s dream. Starting with that inspiration, and drawing on some further genius from C.S. Lewis, my thoughts developed into the following:

Let’s dream a little. Imagine living in a world where peace, justice and love are the order of the day; a world where everyone is accepted just for who they are and where there is no anxiety, fear or mistrust. Then imagine that the ruler of this world had all of these characteristics and more. Because this ruler is like this, let’s call him God.

This is a God who longs for his people to be in relationship with him, and not just that, but God longs for his whole creation to be renewed. In this world there is ultimate trust because the ruler is ultimately trustworthy. Therefore it is a world where you love the fact that God is in charge. You realise that this God is both ultimate and intimate. God is both ruler of everything and yet knows and loves each of his creatures with a dignity we cannot comprehend.

Now imagine that this world is not just a far-off hope, but that it has already begun to be put into place. That’s what Jesus of Nazareth came to do. Jesus was God coming to earth, and every part of his life here was a pointer to this new world. It is not yet fully realised, but he is the one who kicked things off. He pulled back the curtain to show us a bit of what it will be like when everything is made complete.

And this Jesus has invited you to be a part of bringing in this new world. Never mind the kind of life you may have lived. Jesus has forgiven you all of that and wants you now to enjoy his presence and be a part of helping him prepare for the full realisation of this new world. What this means is that this world is within your grasp. What’s more, you will never be alone in this new world, for you will be with others who share the same dream as you. You will know what real connection is, with others and with this God. This is God’s new community and it starts here and now. This is a world run by a God who offers not just social transformation, but personal transformation as well. But it calls for your total commitment and sacrifice. 

So if you’re tired of the way this current world is, and tired of the way your life is going, this Jesus invites you to a new way of living. It is counter-cultural and asks you to turn your back on everything our current world says is valuable. This new world is open to the lowly, the vulnerable, the poor, the outcast, and even to people like us who, let’s face it, have been rotten in a lot of ways. Because this way of living, this new world, has already begun with Jesus, every act of kindness, every act of love, however little or large, matters to this God. He sees it all, because you are preparing the way for when this new world will be fully consummated.

This is a world run by a God who offers not just social transformation, but personal, inner transformation as well. This is the dream that many people throughout history have had, people like Martin Luther King and Mother Teresa, and going further back, people like Francis of Assisi. And you can be a part of it. It calls for your total commitment and sacrifice. For many who are part of this movement, it is very very difficult. But in the end it is worth it, because in a strange way you will know that this has been what you have been looking for all your life. In some unexplainable way you will know that you are home with others in God’s new community.

'Are you going away for Easter?'

One of the pastors at my church mentioned last week that people had been asking her if she is going away for Easter. She said she felt like replying ‘no! And that’s the whole point’. When she said that I felt a little pang of conviction, for I have asked the same question alot recently. Easter is just another holiday for most Australians, including many Christians. I wonder if they sell cards at this time of year in the US which say ‘Happy Holidays’ like they do at Christmas time.

The point my pastor was trying to make was that Easter is ideally spent with other believers in community, for that is what Jesus did on his last night on Earth. He spent it with his friends over a meal. But we see this time of year as a chance to get away and have a break. And in so doing we lose what Easter is really about: God coming to earth as a human, relating with us, teaching us, and above all, saving us. Reconciling the world to himself, and in so doing, reconciling people to each other, God is his own community – Father/Mother, Son and Holy Spirit.

Lord, help me to remember the reason for this season. You coming to die and then being raised to life, to give us the life that is truly life.

The God who dies

‘Died he for me who caused his pain, for me who him to death pursued. Amazing love how can it be, that thou my God shouldst die for me?’ – Charles Wesley, ‘And Can It Be?’, 1738

As we celebrate another Easter, I have been thinking about Jesus’ death on the cross and what it really means. The view I was always taught was that Jesus is the substitutional atonement for our sins and that he took our place and became sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21). Therefore God the Father turned his back on Jesus because he couldn’t look on sin. Jesus took the punishment we deserve. I have a problem with that last sentence. For a start, it is not biblical. Let me explain why.

Firstly, it goes against the fact that God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:19). This was God himself up on that cross. Later in the New Testament, the letter to the Hebrews tells us that God will never leave us or forsake us, so it hardly follows that he would forsake his own son. This is a God who dies; this is indeed, as Juergen Moltmann has said, the crucified God. His death is the great sacrifice that God himself has made to reconcile the world to himself.

It is only God himself who could do this. This is what evokes such gratitude in me at Easter, that God himself comes down and says ‘I’ll take the hit for you’. What love! What grace for creatures as undeserving as us. This is not cosmic child abuse. This is God himself taking the abuse.

Greater love has no one than to lay down their life for their friends. And then, on the third day, he actually defeats this scourge of death and is raised from the dead. The job is done, it is over. It is indeed finished, as Jesus said on the cross. And in the resurrection we have him leading the way for the new creation, the renewal of the cosmos which he so loved (John 3:16), the coming together of heaven and earth. We look forward to the day when there will be no more tears and no more pain…and no more death. And it is all because of that first Easter 2,000 years ago.

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross (Col 1:19-20).

Jesus said ‘I and the Father are one’ (Jn 10:30). In the mystery of the Trinity, we have a God who dies. God the Father didn’t turn his back on Jesus. God himself was on that cross, taking my sin and the sin of the whole world on his broken shoulders. Amazing love, how can it be, that thou my God shouldst die for me?

Taking the initiative to serve

Check out this post from Tim Chester. This has challenged me as I’ve taken up theological studies this year. What hit me was that gifts are for the good of the community, not for personal fulfillment. That may be obvious to most, but I needed to hear it. Thanks Tim.

Clive Hamilton on boredom

There’s a great article by Clive Hamilton in The Age today on the madness of our consumerist lifestyle and how it strips away our ability to just be. As I have been reminded by some friends of mine over time, we are human beings, not human doings. I particularly like the comment from Hamilton about the Twitter phenomenon, when he says that

“new modes of communication keep appearing to prevent us from owning our attention. The most absurd must be Twitter, which spreads like a virus for one reason only; our waning capacity to be alone with ourselves. Our brains have been rewired so we crave external stimulation to avoid succumbing to boredom”

Mark Sayers deals with this issue in The Trouble with Paris when he talks about our culture of hyperreality and how it is basically a sin to be bored. I have mentioned in a previous post a reference to a TV ad for the benefits of particular mobile phone games which you can play while you have to go through the hassle of waiting for the bus.

Our society tells us that we need to constantly fill our lives with ‘noise’. Clive Hamilton, in this article, as mentioned above, refers to this as our inability to face ourselves by saying, “we are terrified that if we strip away everything to reveal the essence we will find there is nothing there”.

What a sad place our culture is when we are afraid of being with ourselves, of looking ourselves in the mirror and facing life on life’s terms. I believe it is only Jesus who gives us this ability to see ourselves more as we really are and cope, with the fact that we are loved beyond measure despite our tendency toward self-destruction. Jesus offers and delivers on life in all its fullness. And this involves a life of being, of reflection and contemplation as well as passionate action and commitment to ideals greater than ourselves.

Labels, labels, and more labels

I remember a story told to me once by some old friends. They had brought up their children in Indonesia, and when their children played with children from other nationalities, their parents decided to ask them one day what colour the other children’s skin was. My friends’ children said they didn’t know. They just saw them as playmates. The colour of their skin wasn’t an issue.

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Why was Jesus so secretive?

I’m currently studying the content and setting of the Gospels, and the first Gospel we’re looking at is Mark (mainly because it is widely acknowledged as being the earliest gospel).

One of the striking features in Mark’s Gospel is how often Jesus tells people not to spread the word of what he has done. Why does he do this? Isn’t ours a missionary faith? Weren’t the 12 told to go throughout all the world and make disciples? Indeed they were, but it was only after Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection that they were told to do this. And that is the whole point of what Mark is trying to get across. Listen to what Hurtado says:

One of [Mark’s] major points is that Jesus’ crucifixion was his key work and that all else—even the exorcisms, healings, and other miracles—was only an incomplete hint of Jesus’ true nature and meaning. This is why no one is allowed to acclaim Jesus openly as Son of God or Messiah, for any acclamation uninformed by the crucifixion is misleading and invalid. This is why, also, the people and the disciples are presented in Mark (much more than the other gospels) as bewildered and even stupid. In Mark’s view, no one could understand the true meaning of Jesus and his work until Jesus had actually completed it by his death as a ransom for others (10:45). Thus, there is a theologically profound reason for the emphasis on secrecy, mystery, and the dullness of crowds and disciples.

L. Hurtado, Mark (Hendrickson, 1989), p. 10

Jesus’ miracles (or mighty deeds) cannot be understood apart from the context of his suffering. His mighty deeds were not the main point of his ministry. There were many other wonder-workers in those days, and Jesus was emphasising that he was different, because the main point of his life was suffering and death, and then resurrection.

Jesus’ point was not that he was the Son of God because he worked these amazing deeds, but that he was the Son of God because of his suffering and death, and then his rising to life.

And that is where it relates to us. In a day when there is still much emphasis on the feel-good factor in worship, we need to hear the call of Jesus again through Mark – that “if anyone would follow me, he must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me”. Any worship of Jesus cannot be done apart from the context of his suffering. There is no resurrection without death.  Alan Cole says it well:

Part of the reason for Jesus’ reluctance to reveal his true identity was that he did not wish to be known as a mere wonder-worker. Perhaps this is a word of warning for us today, in the midst of times of spiritual renewal in which we all rejoice, for such times bring their own danger. Jesus saw his task rather as that of bringing the good news about God and his rule, and that is why he warned healed people not to tell of their healing. It also explains why he escaped the crowds when there was a danger of his mission becoming a mere ‘healing campaign’ and no more.

Alan Cole, ‘Mark’ in D. A. Carson et al, New Bible Commentary: 21st Century Edition (IVP, 1994), p. 948

We live in a society where life is all about comfort and avoiding pain. But the way of Jesus is the way of the cross. Read Mark’s Gospel right through in one sitting and you will understand this. As Hurtado again says:

Mark was concerned to emphasise that the cross was not only the key work of Jesus but also the pattern of discipleship

                                                       L. Hurtado, Mark (Hendrickson, 1989), p. 11

The community of the forgiven

I love the idea of the church being a community of the forgiven. The truth which is bandied about – and which I used to see on bumper stickers – of Christians being ‘not perfect, just forgiven’ makes me cringe because it is so often seen as an excuse for our own hypocrisy. At the same time however, there is a freedom and attractiveness about the fact that we can be part of a community that genuinely cares. Larry Crabb calls it the safest place on earth and that’s exactly what the church is called to be.

This is the ideal vision of people of faith – a place where you can be yourself, warts and all, and you are still accepted for who you are because if you have done some bad stuff in your life, then we have too, and chances are it is worse.

A community of care is a place of forgiveness, and forgiveness is healing. I am reminded of U2’s White as Snow in which Bono sings,

‘Once I knew there was a love divine. Then came a time I thought it knew me not. Who can forgive forgiveness when forgiveness is not? Only the lamb, as white as snow’

As individuals, purity is our ultimate destiny, and we will never be satisfied until we’re there. I don’t mean purity just in the sense of sexual behaviour, although that is a crucial part of purity. By purity, I mean a Christlikeness, having the mind of Christ within us day by day. While we’ll never reach that state this side of death, He still came that we might have life and have it to the full. That life has already begun. When we surrender our lives to Christ, asking that His will be done and not our own, it is then that we become a part of, as distinct from ‘apart from’, and we can hopefully experience, in a loving community, a little bit more of what it is to be part of the community of the forgiven.

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