Remember the facebook conversation I posted earlier about Settlers of Catan? No? Well, Brian Buell and I each worked on an article for our friend Fitz at Patrol, and it become this fun item:

http://www.patrolmag.com/times/1807/one-island-under-god

Here is my original:

Last Saturday night we had our friends Kirk and Rachel over for dessert and drinks (and the Madmen premiere). After looking at our bookshelves for several minutes, Rachel said, “I love The Brothers K!” My husband, George looked at me and smiled. Only weeks before, we had had a spirited disagreement about Sufjan Stevens and Conor Oberst that came to include The Brothers K, a novel by David James Duncan, and encompassed a wide range of artists, musicians, authors and activities. George’s thesis was as follows: Christians in our age group (20s-30s) have predictable tastes, while at the same time often believing that they alone have stumbled upon something unique in secular culture; something that is not stereotypically “Christian”.

For everything that George cited, I had a defense: younger women in general like Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes (though I do not); David James Duncan is not a Christian; Franny and Zooey, by J.D. Salinger has as many Buddhist references as Christian; Sufjan Stevens is critically acclaimed outside of the Christian world, too—he was on NPR! While these things are true—Christians surely are not the only fans of Franny and Zooey, nor the only ones who bought Sufjan Stevens’ albums—it is also true that, since having this conversation, The Brothers K, David Bazan (of Pedro the Lion) Conor Oberst, and John Irving’s Prayer for Owen Meany have all come up organically in conversations with friends at Regent College, in Vancouver, B.C., where I attend seminary. Regent College, much like Gordon College, my alma mater, is made up of young, hip, educated Christians with surprisingly similar “unique” tastes.

And then came the “Settlers of Catan” discussion on facebook: a fellow-Gordon College alumni wrote: “I think someone should write an article about Settler’s of Catan and its role in Christian culture” for his status update, and 19 comments ensued. Scanning my news feed on an overcast Vancouver morning, this made me laugh out loud. Settlers of Catan is a well-designed board game produced by a German company, which has inexplicably caught on like wildfire among young Christians. There were rumblings in my last year at Gordon (2005), where friends would bring the game over to my house, hoping to hook a few new players, but by the following year, it was a bonafide phenomenon. I was serving as a teacher in China, with a Christian organization, where we were placed in teams and sent to schools throughout the country. But there was one thing every far-flung team had in common: they all got together to play “Settlers,” as it was affectionately called. At least one teacher brought the board game to our organization’s annual conference in Thailand, and when we got together with nearby teams in Beijing, there was sure to be a game of Settlers.

Needless to say, the lists of “Stuff ______’s Like” have been done and done again. Not surprisingly, there is already a list of “Stuff Christians Like,” whose creator—also not surprisingly—already has a book deal. However, the great success, the genius of the “Stuff White People Like” website was the nerve it hit: we all thought we were the only ones who liked Mos Def, watched Arrested Development or read the New Yorker. To me, then, an analogous list for Christians would be one that, likewise, hit a nerve: the things in non-Christian or “secular” culture that we think resist stereotyping or pigeon-holing, because they are not overtly Christian, but which, it turns out, are beloved by thousands of other young(er) Christians. Here is my version of this list, which I predict that Patrol Readers will be able to—albeit uncomfortably—identify with:

1.    Settlers of Catan
2.    2. David James Duncan, especially, The Brothers K
3.    John Irving, especially A Prayer for Owen Meany
4.    Social and/or sophisticated or exotic forms of smoking: the occasional American Spirit cigarette, pipes, cloves, cigars or hookahs
5.    U2/Bono (although this may be too obvious)
6.    Franny and Zooey, by J.D. Salinger
7.    Indie singer/songwriters Rosie Thomas, Damien Jurado, David Bazan (of Pedro the Lion), Sufjan Stevens, Conor Oberst
8.    Catholic novelist Flannery O’Connor
9.    Mafia, the game
10.    (Certain) fantasy series: Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter
11.    Web comics, especially the philosophical “xkcd”
12.    Skilled or learned group dancing: Swing dancing (in the 1990s) and Salsa dancing (2000s)
13.    Paste Magazine
14.    Princess Bride childhood nostalgia

AND, here is Brian’s original, on his blog:

http://thelast1augh.wordpress.com/

I am going to attempt my mammoth posting on the topic above, if that topic makes any sense to you (or to me, for that matter). It may be a little muddled and circuitous, but bear with me. As some of you may be aware, George and I have recently gotten into the series: “Mad Men”. If you are aware of this, it is probably because I tend to share at great length about cable shows I am addicted to into (think: The Wire). Anyway, in addition to the wonderful acting, beautiful cinematography and photography, masterfully tight plot, character development and levels of tension unparalleled in a TV show, I have–above all–been struck by one thing: how f’d the 1950s were. Now, before anyone corrects me, I know that the show takes place in the 1960s. However, it takes place (so far) during the early 1960s (1960-1963), and a major focus of the show  is the looming uncertainty and sense of foreboding experienced by characters and institutions that came to maturity, started families, etc. in the 1950s as their world began to undergo a major shift. So, the mentality of the show and its characters is largely one of the 1950s–a mentality that is actually heightened in the face of a perceived threat. This (how totally f’d the 50s seemed in this show) was funny to me, because one is always hearing about how things have essentially gone to shit (why do I bother to censor “f***” but not “shit”? a matter of degree, I guess) in the intervening years, with the social movements of the 1960s fingered as the culprits. Needless to say, I am not the first person to notice this about the show. In Alessandra Stanley’s Review in the Times, she opens with this observation:

Retrospective winks at past ignorance are what makes “Mad Men” so funny and, at times, so chilling.

“Mad Men” mocks and celebrates forbidden vices, the drinking, smoking and promiscuity that in the advertising business of the 1960s flowed heedlessly, without health warnings or the sour taint of political incorrectness. From the start, the show has mined hindsight for wicked humor: a child playing dangerously with a dry-cleaning bag is chided only for messing up the clothes inside; a pastoral family picnic ends with the mom tossing the entire basket of trash onto lush, pristine park grounds; the presidential candidate Richard M. Nixon is marketed as a young, handsome Navy hero.

Even more than in the first two years, this new season, which begins on Sunday on AMC, stresses the less amusing side of that innocence, leading viewers to look back, aghast at, and enthralled by, a world so familiar and so primitive. Characters on “Mad Men” struggle in shame and secrecy with the very things that today are openly, incessantly boasted and blogged about: humble roots, broken homes, homosexuality, unwed motherhood, caring for senile parents.

Is there anything to add here, or is this all that needs to be said? I want to suggest that there is more to be said, and a specific audience that needs to hear it. Not surprisingly–due to the usual content of this blog and the identity and interests of its writer–I feel that there is more to be said to Christians, specifically. The idealization of pre-1960s America is widespread in evangelical Christian circles, and makes up a large part of the rhetoric coming from the Family Research Council, Focus on the Family, and the Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. However, I think it is worth taking a look at the “dark side” that Mad Men highlights. Obviously, I am aware that the show is fictional, but there are no doubt corollaries from the period, and they are not fictional.

In my original draft of this blog, I segued into my list of “what was really wrong with the 1950s” and tried to do copious amounts of research to back everything up. I gave it some thought and decided that anyone can google statistics, do a little Wikipedia cutting and pasting, make a point and call it a day. Blogs, frankly, should not be where we get our “facts”, but where we read opinions, reflections and musings. So, here are my thoughts:

There are some things that have changed since the 1950s that are self evident and not in need of a fact check: we wear seatbelts, we know not to drink and smoke when pregnant, legal racial discrimination is no longer on the books, secretaries are not addressed as “sweetheart” (most of the time) and referred to as “girls”. People do not drink and smoke indoors throughout the workday or go to strip clubs for business meetings. In the midst of the American culture wars, Christians conveniently forget what went right in the 60s and 70s: movements advocating gender and racial equality (including the oft-maligned feminist movement) brought about some of these unequivocally positive (and Christian) changes, and movements advocating corporate accountability and responsibility meant that corporations had to tell the truth before personal responsibility even enterered into the equation (smoking causes cancer, alcohol affects a developing baby, asbestos is toxic, pollution affects communities).

As well, some of the developments and changes that took place during this era may seem less obvious and more ambiguous, in terms of moral value. Primarily, here, I am referring to the feminist movement. As my friend Dan Porter maintains, Don Draper–of Mad Men–is not endearingly, chronically unfaithful–he is a sex addict. That is, he is not a case study for the malaise inherent in the 1950s marriage. At the same time, his outrageously high rate of infidelity and his wife’s long-delayed response do highlight something important and disturbing about this era: the lack of opportunity available to women and the dependent nature of their status made a don’t-ask-don’t-tell response to extramarital affairs on the part of the husband far more likely, thus enabling the behavior or at least making it less taboo. We need only look as far as any public figure from the period to see that mistresses were commonplace; only in the 1980s and 90s would the public outcry and attention to Bill Clinton’s misbehavior be imaginable. No one moved to impeach Roosevelt or Kennedy or Eisenhower; powerful men could have extramarital affairs if they and their wives remained quiet.

In many ways this was because the 19th and early 20th century ideal of the nuclear family conferred status on women through marriage and family. This was also because opportunities outside the home were extremely limited. Women were both practically and morally tied to the home, and to economic dependence upon their husbands, which would certainly not have empowered them to hold husbands accountable to mutual standards of fidelity. Single women were able to work outside of the home, as secretaries, but this often meant subjection to harassment and belittlement of intellect, maturity and ability. When I mentioned to my mother that Mad Men painted a disturbing picture of the time in which she grew up, she said two things: 1. “this is why I make such a point about calling women your age women rather than girls–we had to work hard for that” and 2. “yes. during that period, college educated women worked as secretaries and did all of the real work for less money and less respect.” While a woman does not need to work outside of the home to be fulfilled or challenged intellectually or otherwise, there are certain God-given talents and abilities that the world would greatly benefit from and cannot be fully expressed in the home–groundbreaking scientific research, for example; specialized counseling; a gift for political advocacy on behalf of the voiceless or underprivileged. Should these be kept behind closed doors or receive unequal pay? If not, then we need to acknowledge that the 1950s had significant failings and that the feminist movement sought to address them, rather than to ruin the country and destroy the family, as many claim.

While many attack the feminist movement, few openly attack the civil rights movement; and yet the idealization of the 1950s disregards the institutional, structural and endemic oppression of minorities in this country. Further, the condemnation of all social activism from that period also condemns these movements for equal rights, and the principles that undergirded them.

Finally, health and safety. While we hear a lot these days about individuals making their own choices and government “getting out of the way”, it is important to note that corporations do not always love to tell the truth about their products or their production: without government regulation, consumer protection and worker protection, we would continue to have waste in our rivers (which caused cancer and other illnesses), workers exposed to asbestos in shipyards, embryos affected by mothers’ smoking and drinking, etc.

To summarize: My mother used to point out that the 1950s were not as perfect as conservative rhetoric would have us think, but it took the visual portrayal of Mad Men to really make me think deeply about this. While it is a fictional show and an exaggerated portrayal, it gave me pause as I considered what it would really have been like to live–especially as a woman–during this period. While feminism has certainly had its excesses, in terms of downplaying gender differences entirely and sometimes advocating for equality for equality’s sake, i.e. seeking the right to be just as sexually exploitive as men have traditionally been, it has also provided women with a world of choices rather than a world of socio-culturally prescribed roles and economic dependency. It has provided women with the opportunity to utilize gifts that previously lay dormant. While many in organizations like CBMW (see above) would say that prescribed roles are biblical and limitation is necessary, I do not see the American domestic ideal in the biblical tradition. Certainly there is a biblical precedent for work outside of the home, as in Proverbs 31, and female vocation, which would not have been possible without the movements of the 1960s, whatever their faults.

In otherwords, it’s all connected: you can’t have a return to the 1950s without the dark side of secrets, repression, pollution, racism, frustrated and dissatisfied wives, and more. To suggest anything else would be revisionism.

As you might be aware, I am a woman; as you might also be aware, I trend left, politically speaking (OK, “trend left” is a bit of an understatement). As well, I am an evangelical, and tend to be orthodox in my theology, meaning I still think it’s important to adhere to the Creeds–Nicene and Apostles’, mainly. You would not think, at first, that these three pieces of information–gender, politics, orthodoxy–would necessarily make the question of church difficult. And it doesn’t always: plenty of women attend churches that are “complementarian” or belong to denominations that do not ordain women–in fact, many women are very vocal defenders of these policies, especially those associated with the SBC, the conservative wing of the Catholic Church, the PCA, Mars Hill or CBMW; plenty of liberals keep their mouths shut and attend conservative churches, or don’t see politics as a priority outside of the voting booth; some evangelicals are perfectly fine attending less-than-orthodox churches because they value belonging to a neighborhood perish or prioritize high church liturgy or the centrality of the weekly Eucharist over teaching or belief statements.

For me, though, as well as for some kindred spirits in my life, these factors significantly complicate decisions about where to attend church. Here is how it usually goes: I look for a church in which Jesus Christ is central, and in which the gospel is preached. In the United States and Canada, unfortunately, this weeds out a lot of churches. Then I move to secondary considerations, regarding worship: theologically meaningful worship (hymns are a plus!); in-depth, intelligent, theologically sound preaching; regular (hopefully weekly) Eucharist/communion; reverence for and centrality of the Word of God; some use of liturgy or orders of worship; and efforts to include beauty and sensory experiences into worship.

Worship is foundational, to me, and I believe that it should not be about what “feels good” to us but what is honoring to God; at the same time, we have to be able to enter into it in an authentic manner. I think that several things help me/us to do this: liturgy, because within set forms and prayers we are released from our perpetual self-consciousness; conscious openness to the Holy Spirit; engaging different parts of our selves–I am drawn into worship through words, while others might be drawn in through incense, icons, or music; the Eucharist, because it was instituted by Christ, has been present since the Church’s inception, and unites us with Communion of Saints, past and present; and preaching rooted in Scripture.

At this point I often encounter my first problem: most evangelical, “theologically orthodox” churches consist of a whitewashed church or warehouse, a few worship songs (with loud guitars and drums), extemporaneous prayer (“Lord, I just want…”) and a sermon by a charismatic preacher in jeans (with a powerpoint!). There is nothing wrong with this, in terms of the gospel still being preached, and people praising God, but I feel a longing for something deeper and more substantive, that is connected with the rich history of the Church universal. I often feel that this leaves me with two options (I am aware of non-denominational and emergent churches trying to create church from the best of all traditions, but I think this “picking and choosing” can be a bit dangerous), as I do believe in the necessity of denominational structures: Anglican or Presbyterian. This, subsequently, gives rise to new problems, specifically the conservative vs. mainline issue.

Right now, this issue is thought of as a code for “the gay thing”, which is tragic, because I think that this caricatures the very real and very complex questions at hand, and focuses the entire conversation around the fate of a particular group. Many of the mainline churches have, for various reasons, adopted a kind of gospel of niceness and inclusivity. For the gospel to be nice and inclusive, though, this involves a lot of watering-down of belief, and for me, this has always “begged the question” (wrong use of phrase, I know): what’s the point? If Jesus didn’t really die for us and was not raised as the first fruit of what is to come, we are basically finding artificial ways to give meaning to our lives, which to me is a waste of time: why not be honest and join a humanist community center or something? There are ways to create meaning in life without pretending it is based upon something that you have watered down so much that there is nothing to actually believe in. My point is, in aiming to become a socially acceptable, influential civil institution, the mainline churches mostly focus on doing good work in society (not a bad thing at all) while being vaguely spiritual and trying not to offend anyone by claiming exclusivity of doctrine or belief system (or anything else).

There are exceptions, of course–West Side Presbyterian, Christ Church of Hamilton-Wenham, Church of the Advent, University Presbyterian, to name a few, and these churches make a strong argument for continuing as witnesses in their denominations. This is a good thing, but these churches are tough to find.

So, because I get frustrated with not being able to at least start on the same page with the basics, i.e. who Jesus was, I move to the more theologically conservative forms of these two denominations, and here we run into the other two problems.

1. Did I mention that I am a woman? Well, I am also a woman getting an MDiv (Masters in Divinity), hoping to go into some form of “professional” ministry (professional=I want a job someday). So, while a lot of people who may feel that women should be in ministry can continue to belong to churches or denominations that as yet do not support this can stay within them and work to change them from within, which is certainly laudable, I don’t really have that luxury, having felt called to serve as a minister of the church. This rules out, then, the PCA, and because the PCUSA is so all over the place, theologically speaking, and not particularly innovative or particularly liturgical, this basically rules out the Presbyterian Church.

The natural choice for me, then, is the Anglican Church–but which Anglican church? As anyone who has eyes or ears (to read the newspaper or listen to the news) is probably aware, the Anglican Communion is splintering further and more contentiously every time you turn around. The Episcopal Church, which is the main Anglican body in the United States, is still very diverse, theologically. However, in any area where I would be living or working, this is not the case (the Northwest or the Northeast). In particular, the Diocese of Massachusetts was really depressing, because it was the rare person I met who believed in what I consider to be the basics of the faith. Also, these people primarily attended the Church of the Advent, which I had several problems with in other areas, or Christ Church, Hamilton, which is now splitting. A good friend of mine is pursuing ordination in this Diocese, and he has told me, “As long as I am not told to stop preaching the gospel, I’ll stay”. But for me, I feel that there has to be more than being allowed to preach the gospel–it has to be encouraged and it has to be central.

Turning, then, to the Common Cause Partners in the United States and Canada, who are working to form a new province, new issues arise. Two of these are foremost for me: many of these bodies initially left the Episcopal Church over the ordination of women, and, if they did not, many continued to refuse to ordain women, like those in Texas and Virginia. Bob Duncan, the bishop/leader of the coalition is intensely supportive of women in ministry, as is my former Rector, Father Jurgen Liias, of Christ Church. However, it is unclear whether, in the new province, women will be marginalized, and to what extent. On a final note, many of these churches are significantly lower, in terms of worship, than I am now comfortable with. Although I continue to be Reformed, theologically speaking, I have also come to value an approach to worship that engages the traditional prayers of the church as well as visual and sensory approaches to worship that are often lost in the evangelical Anglican churches. It will, I think, be rare to find a theologically orthodox, egalitarian, high church-leaning fellowship, which saddens me. Christ Church, Hamilton is certainly an exception, but will soon look a lot different in its two new incarnations.

2. As anyone who knows me at all knows, I am passionate about politics and social justice. Politics is often a bad word, especially among people trying to break the hold of conservatives on the evangelical church, because we want to make it clear that we are not replacing one ideology with another, but trying, instead to broaden the conversation, so I am hesitant to even bring it up, except to say that I value a church where there is no political litmus test, one way or the other, and one that is not politically homogeneous, one way or the other. Unfortunately, churches can all to easily be caricatured because they all too easily fit the caricature: theologically liberal churches are politically liberal, and theologically conservative churches are politically conservative, and I hate it.

I hate that if I want to make a choice rooted in boldness regarding the gospel I often spend all my time defending my politics, and I hate that in churches where I am politically comfortable, I am made to feel like an idiot for believing orthodox Christianity. Why is this? Contrary to a lot of the conventional wisdom, I do not think that this is because theology clearly determines politics. There are arguments to be made on both sides, on all the issues. You could just as easily defend socialism as free-market capitalism from a biblical perspective (although I obviously think that it’s hard to defend free-market capitalism, biblically speaking).

These theological and political demarcations are an obvious product of the culture wars of the last century, and need not continue to exist in the concrete, inflexible manner in which they do now. One reason that I believe this is that these connections are predominately true of white Christians. In the African American Church and the immigrant churches of the U.S., traditional, conservative, orthodox theology is often found alongside intensely liberal political activism. Frankly, most white congregations have not been forced to examine these issues at the same level, because they have not been politically or economically marginalized by society; they have not had to fight for basic rights, which often manifests in “liberal” views and action. However, because these demarcations have taken root in the mainline denominations and in their evangelical counterparts, choosing a church is often political. Thus, in the Anglican world, much of the theologically conservative movement has been funded by politically conservative groups with broad-based agendas, such as the Institute for Religion and Democracy. This was demonstrated–all too painfully for me–in an article by Jim Naughton.

FINALLY, what of social justice and orthodoxy? The news here is not good, for several reasons. First, the culture wars and their political ramifications  have meant that to talk about social justice means you are liberal, which means you are not really a Christian (in the eyes of many). Second, many evangelical and fundamentalist churches take the view that evangelism and sharing the gospel are the first priority, and social justice is optional, which, in my view, is totally antithetical to the incarnational gospel of Jesus.

As a post-script: to return once more to the homosexuality question that these debates are entirely boiled down to–I have a very hard time with evangelical churches defining themselves around this issue. Can we not be better at defining ourselves around the exclusivity and centrality of Jesus? Around the true gospel? I would suggest that this is where we should take our stand; the biblical gospel is already an unpopular, uncomfortable stand, but it is one that is rooted in love rather than in hateful rhetoric that does us no good in the world. I am not saying that churches should abandon their values, whatever they are, but that the gospel itself is where we should take our stand.

To recap–here is what I wish I could find in one church, but cannot:

1. The Gospel, as it has been articulated in the Creeds of the Church
2. liturgy/sensory worship/sacramental worship
3. affirmation and empowerment of women (not in an abstract sense, but as elders and potentially in the pulpit)
4. political diversity and independence
5. intelligent preaching
6. reverence for Scripture and the Word of God
7. tangible and active work for justice
8. local and neighborhood-based investment in communities
9. sound and consistent theology
10. engagement with culture rather than being defined by what it opposes
11. accountability to a larger denominational structure and to the long history of the Church

Does anyone know of a church like this? I would love to attend!

Brian Buell I think someone should write an article about Settler’s of Catan and its role in Christian culture.

Scott Hwang

Like how it keeps people from graduating from Christian Colleges or…?

3 hours ago

Brian Buell

Scottie! Get up here. 7!

2 hours ago

Paul Fombelle

well…. your negative influence of Settler’s has spread to AZ. You are slowly going to cripple our economy. I better warn Obama. You might get some sort of funding to stop playing it.

2 hours ago

Catie Porter

speaking of lost time have you tried www.sporcle.com?

2 hours ago

Alanna Linden

You can also buy “Settlers of Canaan” if you want a more spiritualized version to justify the time eaten up by the game.

2 hours ago

Anna Scott

HAHAHAHA…there are certain things that catch on in Christian culture for NO APPARENT REASON and Christians seem totally unaware that this is the case or that they are the only ones who are obsessed with _____. Settlers is definitely one of these things. When I was in China with a Christian org EVERYBODY loved Settlers and played it CONSTANTLY; it was a social staple when teams got together. In Mass., all Gordon graduates love Settlers; at Regent they play Settlers. It has always boggled the mind, esp as I’ve never played it so I don’t understand the allure. I am going to make a list of similar phenomena and will get back to you.

about an hour ago · Delete

Nicholas Stephen Munn

that and the princess bride… perhaps comparing the two to see how christian trends develop…

about an hour ago

Nick Addivinola

Not sure of the Christian connection(s) but certainly appreciate it as an interesting game. Who knew that my friends and I were playing such a religious game all this time.

58 minutes ago

Anna Scott

OK, am still working on it (thanks Nicholas Stephen Munn for adding an important one):
1. Settlers of Catan
2. Princess Bride
3. The Brothers K/David James Duncan
4. smoking pipes
5. U2/Bono
6. Damien Jurado/David Bazan/Sufjan Stevens/Pedro the Lion/Rosie Thomas
7. xkcd
8. the game “Mafia”
9. Paste Magazine
10. Flannery O’Connor
11. Lord of the Rings/Narnia
12. Franny and Zooey and other non Catcher Salinger
13. Swing Dancing (90s) and/or Salsa Dancing (2000s)
14. Harry Potter
15. Conner Oberst
16. LOST
17. post-modernism

I am sure that there are more of these, but basically this list is: “‘secular’ things that Christians think they are cool and original for liking but are not/think are not ‘Christian’ things to like, but actually are,” if that makes sense.

36 minutes ago · Delete

Nicholas Stephen Munn

pipe/houkah….

36 minutes ago

Brian Buell

Oh geez, I just suggested the brothers k to someone this afternoon…

33 minutes ago

Brian Buell

Have you ever met my friend, fitz?

32 minutes ago

Brian Buell

I gotta think lost is more universal.

29 minutes ago

Anna Scott

i know, that’s what George says. He also says post-modernism shouldn’t be on there, but here were a couple of my criteria: What is something that Christians from Gordon, ELIC (my China org) and Regent unfailingly get together to do? (watch LOST, play Settlers) or What is something Christians think they are edgy or “culturally relevant” or intellectual for talking about? (postmodernism, xkcd, etc).

25 minutes ago · Delete

Aaron gave us a few minutes at the end of his sermon to ask the Holy Spirit to show us the things that occupy the place of primacy in our hearts and lives. He repeated/suggested things like: spouses, marriage, money, career, ambition, etc. But, as I knelt there, and as the Spirit worked, I realized that none of these were quite applicable for me: rather than any one defining thing commanding my devotion, there is, instead, a bundle of small and trivial things, which I rely on to provide me with a few seconds of relief from challenges, thoughts, intensity, fear, etc. The incredible irony here is that I came to faith at a very young age (12) because I had suddenly realized–with great horror–at around age 10, that every adult around me was distracting themselves from the reality of death and dying. Maybe this is not true; there may be plenty of adults that are at peace with their mortality. At the same time, I looked around me and saw everyone busy trying to give their lives meaning and direction, filling every spare minute with hobbies, activities, plans for the future, etc. While, to them, it may have seemed totally innocent and well-intentioned, I wondered what would happen if they stopped their gardening, do-gooding, reading, drinking, planning or cause-crusading and faced the reality that in decades (or days) they would die? It then struck me that these hobbies, activities, causes and plans were compulsively undertaken, with one thing proceeding immediately after the last, so that no one would ever have to stop and look into the great darkness; the void. Interestingly, there is a book about this, which I have yet to read (embarrassingly), but that was recommended to me by another student at Gordon when I read an essay on this subject to an advanced composition class. Ernest Becker, a cultural anthropologist, wrote The Denial of Death in 1974, which similarly asserted that our lives and life choices are largely motivated by our desperate need to avoid thinking about or facing death.

I decided that I didn’t want to spend my life running here and there, looking desperately for distractions, “chasing after the wind,” as the author of Ecclesiastes puts it. I wanted to face mortality and eternity, think about it, decide what I believed, and then live in light of that thing. Because I was only 10, this search was obviously not fully developed or articulated, but I set out to find a religion, and became a Christian at 12, finding Jesus’ claims, truth, peace, promise, and freedom to be my answer, my purpose, and my meaning. This only “works,” though, is only actually effective at changing a life rather than being a “lifeboat” or plan B for eternal life, if one takes it seriously, and lives as if it were true, rather than merely hopes that it is. Because a) meaning and purpose are more than just knowing where you go when you die but about how this changes the way that you live and b) eventually, you turn 11, 12, 13, 18, 20 25, 27, and with increased understanding and experience comes complexity, wisdom and nuance of belief (hopefully). I realized that the Gospel changed my life NOW, not just assuaged my fear of eternity. In my life, what I think this means is that God needs to be, as St. Patrick said:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

In other words, being a Christian entails utter and complete dependence upon Christ. He is within, to direct me; He is to my right and left, meeting me at every turn. He should be so apparent in me that others see Him and speak of Him when the see me and speak of me. He should be my first thought and my last thought. In practice, this  means that, when I am sad, I pray; when I panic, I pray; when I am angry, I cry out and rage against God; when I am overjoyed, my joy flows outward in gratitude toward Jesus’; when I am afraid, I ask for comfort. When I am at a loss, I ask God for what’s next. You get my drift.

Do I do this? NO. Here is what I mostly do when faced with an intense or overwhelming feeling, a challenging moment, a frustrating situation: take a nap, play a silly game on the computer, update my facebook status, go for a long drive, call someone, visit someone, smoke a cigarette, have a glass of wine, make a list. These are not grand causes or objects of devotion, these are DISTRACTIONS. These are, taken cumulatively, a waste of precious, valuable, fleeting, glorious life.

Is there something about our generation and those younger than us that replaces the big sins, the big temptations, the grand causes, the great loves, the great pleasures with the small, petty, trivial distractions: the computer, pop culture, a TV show, the internet, a night out, a fling, a flirtation, a pill, a nap, a game, a phone call, a text, a blog, etc?? I often feel as though my generation is better able to avoid the big questions, the terror at the end of life, eternity, mortality, meaning; however, even as a Christian, I seem pretty well able to avoid my Lord and my God.

My prayer, then, is that I would hallow the name of God by turning to Him in every moment where there is a question, a hesitation, a wondering, “what should I do NOW?”–that I would slow myself down for one second and allow God to be present there, right there. Because I move too fast from the question–with all of its potential–to the distraction, and postpone God for another day, another moment, another situation. I want to love Jesus and rely on Him in every moment, and ask of Him now–TODAY–that this would be so. I pray this for you, reader, as well.

I just wanted to say that I continue to be committed to working through issues, telling stories, and sharing thoughts here on the internets, but I have been on a bit of an unexpected hiatus, due to going through a pretty hellish couple of months (its personal, and this time I am keeping it to myself), and now finishing the work for a Regent summer course I took 6 weeks ago. Regent has many wonderful spring and summer courses, in which many important things are taught and learned, but one thing I’ve learned is that you may have 6 weeks to complete the course after the end of actual classes, but I (and most people I know here) will somehow wait until the weekend before to finish the major paper or project. Unbelievable. I’m totally depraved, how about you?

Sooo…just be aware that, following the due date (Monday) and a long post-due-date nap, I will return to writing long-winded blogs about controversial and/or personal subjects. Already have some ideas!

In the meantime, hope everyone is having a great summer.

Also, Mark Noll loves hymns, and so do I.

At the same time, what is the good of life experience if you are not using it to encourage and minister to others who are going through similar difficulties; to let hurting people know they are not alone? To let the world know that following Jesus does not mean being perfect? And so, there is a fine balance, with an attendant moral obligation to use our lives to serve and love others—to be a light, as we are called to be. Further, following Jesus is supposed to be costly. If we are stepping out on a limb because we believe that sharing our trials and how we have learned from them will minister to someone, then this may be the priority, over and against the priority of ambition or self-preservation.

Another facet of the discussion is the extent to which we can repress or alter our identities. While we are not defined by our “issues,” past (or present) dysfunction, or failures, we are also not persons apart from our personal history. Our personal histories inform who we are in the present; this is an inescapable fact. And so, to pretend that we have not struggled, sinned, erred, despaired, raged, etc. in the past, because we are worried that we will be seen negatively in the present is to repress the self, which will always come back to—pardon the expression—bite you in the ass.

Here I want to address—hopefully without “over-sharing”—the implications of this challenge as they apply to mental illness in the church, and in the world at large. I am not even going to ADDRESS the view that mental illness is a result of sin, or if you just prayed hard enough you would be fine, or that medication is a weakness/un-Christian, etc etc etc. These attitudes are both wrong and dangerous. What I do want to deal with is: what is the role of the mentally ill person—whether the illness is clinical or chronic; from postpartum depression to schizophrenia—in the church, and what is the role of Christian community in regard to the mentally ill person? Should people who are stabilized through treatment but have suffered from mental illness be allowed in church leadership? Should someone who is depressed be a pastor? Should these (hypothetical) people share their experience, or keep quiet in the interest of being reliable and appearing stable in the service of others?

I would assert that this is a major test of whether we put our money where our mouth is when we talk about brokenness; when we talk of God’s grace being especially manifest in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:7-10); when we talk about vulnerability; when we talk about authentic community; when we read books about the “wounded healer”. I believe that this is so because there is no one in greater touch with the experience of strength through weakness, or of human brokenness than a mentally ill person, in that, before you have entered treatment, you have been forced to a place of not being able to trust your own mind. Whether you are hearing only the voice of depression—of darkness or the “pit” in the Psalms—or the scarier voices of schizophrenia, mania, or OCD, you have lost your tether to reality, and must evaluate each and every voice, to test it against what you no longer are sure is true or good or right. Further, you may not even believe in the goodness of God, in the reality of His presence, or of His commitment to you, even if you once have believed strongly. Essentially, you know you are broken, you know that there is “no health in you” and can trust no one but God (often working through a good psychiatrist)—but that even this is making a leap: To trust God and/or to seek help in this moment is the ultimate “leap of faith”. When you experience God and healing when in this place, you are absolutely certain that it is a miraculous gift; that it stems from a power external to yourself, because you are sure that it was not there moments ago; that all you were aware of moments ago was darkness and fear.

Even after treatment, diagnosis, and progress, the mentally ill person knows that existence, comfort, peace, and sanity are fragile things, and may be less a guarantee than most are aware. I say this because, while the mentally ill person experiences this in a unique way, clinical depression, anxiety of various kinds, grieving, fear, anger, or other intense emotion are just as near to any of us, and may only take a death, a disappointment, or a dramatic change in our lives to surface.

Should we have teachers, pastors, small group leaders, youth leaders, or elders who openly admit to having a mental illness or who confess that they are experiencing significant depression? I would suggest that these people, if they are in treatment, honest, and accountable about their condition (in a non self-indulgent, attention-seeking way) are in fact uniquely qualified to relate to and walk alongside others in a world that is broken, lonely, and hurting—a fragmented world where everyone feels misunderstood, and is afraid of sharing their deepest selves. Is this the attitude in our churches? Not usually. We like to talk about incarnation and suffering in our churches; we like to encourage people to “open up”; we want people with challenging backgrounds to share a good “testimony,” and how it brought them to the Lord, but no one wants them to be in a position of authority. In reality, most churches in America today still want conventional pastors and leaders, with 2 kids, and a wife who plays piano (nothing wrong with 2 kids or a wife who plays piano, btw)—white men who can smile and shake hands, and who talk about vulnerability without being particularly scathed by suffering or carrying any hint or residue of darkness.

So, as I think about how to live in the world, as someone who wants to pursue a career in ministry, and as someone who believes I have something to offer, not despite but because I have suffered and struggled, I have to think all the time about what I should say and not say: should I share my history of bipolar disorder? Will I be judged? Will I ever get a job? Will I pass any kind of mental screening conducted by most major denominations? Will I even be able to take on leadership positions in school, at my seminary? Will I ever be taken seriously, or am I just a good testimony, someone who’s been through hell but found the Lord?

I don’t know the answer to these questions, but what I have learned this year is that, you can blow dry your hair, put on makeup, get straight As, ask questions in class, try to network, talk about your spiritual life, and take your pills every day—but someday, your heart will start beating quickly and your throat will contract, and you’ll have to leave class early; every once in a while you still won’t be able to get out of bed; you’ll have trouble with a prescription; you’ll snap and cry in class. You (I) can’t pretend that your history is a blank sheet or that all was bright and cheery, that it never happened, and it is not integral to who you are. So, I figure, you might as well let people know that they are not alone, and walk with them as they suffer, too. You might as well be honest, and give others permission to do the same thing, experiencing a moment of freedom together. You might as well give people the opportunity to trust you or give you a position of responsibility, without disqualifying yourself before even trying. And if we can’t do that in the Church; if we can’t trust the power of God to use the weak, then I would suggest that we have missed a key part of the Gospel. And so, I press publish with the fear that, perhaps, a potential future employer will google me one day, and cross me off a list of applicants because I have owned my bipolar disorder on the internets, for all to see; but, as Martin Luther never REALLY said, “here I stand, I can do no other.”