I know no advice for you save this: go into yourself and test the deeps in which your life takes rise: at its source you will find the answer to the question whether you must create. Accept it, just as it sounds, without inquiring into it. Perhaps it will turn out that you are called to be an artist. Then take that destiny upon yourself and bear it, its burden and its greatness, without ever asking what recompense might come from outside.
Seen through the eyes of a Gospel Artist, and one who is called to change, this is a great quote. I actually we believe we are all called to create a gospel-shaped life. We take the destiny of Christ-likeness (or at least we do, if we choose), and begin our pilgrim path of change and evolution.
Have you ever considered that change is possible? That you are called to create (along with God through the Holy Spirit) a life that is shaped by God?
What would it look like if you were called? What could your life look like if you decided to create something wonderful and beautiful?
What would it look like if you chose to be an artist?
Then God said, “Let us make humanity in our image to resemble us so that they may take charge of the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the livestock, all the earth, and all the crawling things on earth.”
God created humanity
In God’s own image,
in the divine image
God created them,
male and female
God created them.” (Genesis 1:26-27)
So God has this creation.
Day after day the rhythm is repeated: God creates, then sits back and enjoys it, and then evaluates it…
And it’s goooood.
But, somehow, not good enough.
So after the world is complete, God decides to do one more masterfully creative thing…
He makes humanity.
This is no small thing.
With this moment of creation, the first glimpses of our biblical “spine” start to come into view.
Or, to put it another way, this God is up to something.
Broadly speaking, there are three things that we learn about humanity in the creation story. They’re not complicated, but these three things have profound significance for the rest of our story, so it’s important that we understand them.
One: Image
As verses say, we bear the imprint of God’s image on us. At this point in our story, what do we know about this god’s “image”?
He creates things
He enjoys His creation
He even creates human beings, and when He does it, He says it’s very good…
So whatever human beings are, or whatever they become, one of the ingredients of our spine is that we are marked with the image of this creating, singing, celebrating God. We are called to measure our lives by our likeness to Him.
Two: Work
In verse 28 of chapter one, God tells Adam (from the Hebrew ‘adam, which is not a proper noun, but rather a generic name for humanity; see Robert Alter’s book on the Pentateuch for more discussion), “Be fertile and multiply; fill the earth and master it. Take charge of the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and everything crawling on the ground.” In Genesis 2, we are told that God puts humanity in a garden (v8).
Here’s the thing about gardens: they take work.
So God gives humanity work to do: they farm and keep the land (v8 and v15), and they name the animals (2:19-20).
So here’s another little piece of our spine that is beginning to take shape: this God invites—even expects—His creation to co-labor with Him. Whatever work there is to do, God allows humanity to be a part of it.
Work is a part of the divine plan. The garden isn’t all about sitting around, sipping lemonade and listening to lame angels’ songs.
It’s about making sure God’s creation is in balance…
… Oh, and also: don’t forget about the image thing. When we work, we have to work in God’s image. We have to do things the way He would do it (this becomes increasingly important).
Three: Freedom
“In the fertile land, the LORD God grew every beautiful tree with edible fruit, and also he grew the tree of life in the middle of the garden and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” (Genesis 2v9)
“The LORD God commanded the human, ‘Eat your fill from all of the garden’s trees; but don’t eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, because on the day you eat from it, you will die!” (2v16-17)
So God creates a planet that He loves. He creates a creature to co-labor and create and steward this world. Then He tells the human to not eat of a certain tree…
… Then God retreats, and lets the human choose.
(… The outcome isn’t so good.)
This God gives us the freedom to choose, even when the results can be disastrous.
Why?
I think it’s because of love.
After creating an entire universe and world, it would be a pretty small thing to put, say, a really tall hedge around the two trees. A fence. Anything.
But this God wants humanity to be able to choose.
Because you can’t love without a choice.
I think that if all God wanted was creatures to do His bidding, He could’ve easily eliminated choice or chance. But this God wants more. He wants community. He wants love.
Freely given.
And you can’t freely give something if you don’t have the option to not give.
So here we stand, and in a way it’s quite simple:
There’s a God.
He created a something: a world.
That world matters to Him. A lot.
He created someone.
That someone matters to Him an awful lot, but…
God is going to let that someone choose to be in relationship with Him.
And that’s going to cause an awful lot of trouble.
The concept of a train is simple: wheels on rails. The rails constrain the wheels and prevent them from wandering, but they also give the wheels a smooth the path to travel. Unlike a car, a train can’t go
wherever it wants—it has to travel the path that the rails follow—but a train can trust the rails, and as long as they haven’t been destroyed or damaged, the rails will take the train where it needs to go.
If you’re anything like me, I’d prefer to think of myself as a free-ranging vehicle (a Jeep 4×4, especially): I can go anywhere and do anything I’d like, and I will continue to grow into the person that I need to be and that God wants me to be.
Nothing can be further from the truth.
After 40-something years on this earth, I am able to say with a fair amount of certainty that left to my own devices I will wander to and fro, and “growth” will remain far from the top of my “to do” list.
I don’t make such a good Jeep.
I need rails, things that keep me on track.
Maybe I make a better train.
Now, rails have other words too:
systems
routines
habits
disciplines
rules
These “rails”, as long as I follow them and choose to stay on them, tend to take me to the places I want to go spiritually. (To extend the metaphor just a bit, it’s important to remember that the point of a train is not to just “ride the rails”; trains go places; the destination is what’s important. When the rails become the point of everything, we’ve lost the point.) At first, they feel odd: constrain you; they cramp your “style”; they stretch you, and may challenge you to do things that aren’t in your “nature” (“Well, I’m not really a Bible reading person, ya know?!?!”). But, after a while, they don’t feel as odd or forced. You find yourself moving with them, anticipating their turns. You’re working with the rails now.
Specifically, here are some of the rails and “constraints” that I use:
a regular habit of focused prayer and mediation each morning
a discipline of regular Scripture reading and studying
a commitment to regularly (1-2 times a month) sit down with 1-2 older spiritual mentors and humbly submit to their leadership and suggestions (again with the humility)
a system of managing my time, projects and energy (I use both electronic and paper calendars, and a combination of OmniFocus and Apple’s Reminders)
a method of examining the overall direction and theme of my life
As some of these rails have become cemented into my character, I have had to rely on the externals a bit less, but the principles remain the same: I submit to the rails.
Because I have somewhere to go; a person to be; a redemptive movement to play a part in.
And I trust the rails to take me there.
Do you have any rails? What are they? Do you need to reevaluate any of them?
William Blake [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
When God began to create the heavens and the earth—the earth was without shape or form, it was dark over the deep sea, and God’s wind swept over the waters—God said, “Let there be light.” And so light appeared. God saw how good the light was. God separated the light from the darkness. God named the light Day and the darkness Night.
There was evening and there was morning: the first day. (Genesis 1:1-5)
… And so our Story begins.
And with it, the controversy: how long did it take God to form the Earth? How old is our planet? In North America, there are whole museums dedicated to proving that creation closely follows the Genesis account, and that the Earth is significantly younger than most geologists would claim (10,000 years vs roughly 4.5 billion). The debate goes on and on (if you want to read a poignant account of it, check out A.J. Jacobs’ Year of Living Biblically).
But the troubles with Genesis don’t end there.
Over the years, scholars have become aware of other ancient near eastern “creation stories” that bare troubling similarities to Genesis, and these similarities have given rise to troubling questions:
* What do these other stories do to the claim of the Bible’s uniqueness?
* Is Genesis plagiarized?
… And so on.
Without getting into too many details, there are multiple stories that have remarkable similarities to Genesis, including the same sequence of days in creation, the same association and rhythm of light and darkness, etc; there are other stories of floods (not to mention Hammurabi’s Code, which has a lot of similarities to the 10 Commandments).
Broadly speaking there are two extreme responses to these facts: either you throw the Bible (and in particular, Genesis) as myth and irrelevant, or you try to intellectually justify and “conquer” the other myths as somehow inferior or “stolen” from Genesis.
As a person of faith, I can’t do the former; as a thinking human, I can’t do the latter. Bluntly, it’s difficult to be intellectually honest and say that those other stories ripped off Genesis (and not vice-versa).
So where does that leave me?
But what if there was another way to look at Genesis? A way that “liberates” the text from having to be utterly unique?
What if this approach to Genesis is also intrinsically related to what Genesis may actually be trying to tell us?
Hint: It’s all about YHWH.
The best way to understand things at this point is to understand that Genesis isn’t written in a vacuum: it’s written (and still read) in a culture where everyone has an origin story…
Who started this whole thing off? Zeus? Marduk? Geology? It’s almost like a “my dad can beat up your dad situation”, and into the mix comes this people (the Jews) with a story that says, “Well we have a God too—in fact just one—but that’s all we’re going to need.” They seem to look at the cultures around them and say, “We agree with you on the basics of the story: stuff surely got created and put here, but what we are disagreeing with is simply the who behind the what.”
What’s more, the folks who wrote Genesis weren’t newspaper people, historians, or journalists.
They were God-people.
Priests, prophets, spiritual leaders.
They were consumed with this God—this YHWH—they’d encountered, and they wanted to explain the world in terms of who He was/is.
Some people say that in God’s eyes there’s really only ever one sin, and it’s idolatry (we’ll here more about this in Exodus), and Genesis seems to start the story off in a similar way. Genesis is saying, in a sense, you have to get this one thing right: there’s God… Just. One. God. He’s the One who did all this.
Now this is saying plenty.
Genesis may not be so much interested in the details of creation, but it’s highly interested in the author. Indeed, a lot of the details in Genesis can be found in other origin stories of the ancient near east, except for one small detail:
God.
Can we solve the debate of the age of the earth? Did Adam have a belly button? Was there a serpent?
Ultimately, I don’t know, but I know there was a God…
And somehow He is a creator, and He made a planet that was good, and then He made human beings…
And they were VERY good…
(Well, mostly…)
Next up: Genesis B (or the Great Challenge of Humanity)
Yesterday, I took part in a panel discussion at church about “resetting” for the New Year. We talked about some of the rituals and systems we use to try and get ourselves for the New Year.
It was fun to talk about my journals and such, and some of my approach to this season of the year, but I was left wondering if anyone “got it”.
At one point I said from the stage, “If you don’t expect anything more out of 2014 than what you did in 2014, I’d challenge you to examine what you expect out of your faith.”
Do people really believe in transformation?
Do you?
Do you believe you can change?
Do you believe you’re called to?
I think it actually boils down to some very basic beliefs, so let me ask you:
In John 4, Jesus says that he offers water that will become a spring of water that bubbles up (inside us) into eternal life…
In 1 Corinthians 2, Paul says that we have the mind of Christ…
Were they liars?
Were they only talking to “super-Christians”?
As one of my spiritual mentors says, “Either it is, or it isn’t.”
So, if Jesus and Paul knew something about life; if they really meant what they said, then we are left to wrestle with their statements.
The burden is on us.
Question 1: Do you want to have the mind of Christ? to have a constant stream of living water inside you?
Question 2: What are you prepared to surrender in order to gain it?
This is the point where many of us get snagged, if for no reason than this: we have our lives, our systems of existence, and we don’t like to think that they maybe aren’t working.
So where do we start?
We start with humility. We start with the admission that we actually don’t know what’s best for us. We declare as best we can, “I believe that there’s something more for me, but my life isn’t set up to obtain it. God help me.”
He wants to.
Someone asked a desert hermit once, “What is the way to make progress?” The hermit answered, “Humility. The more we bend ourselves to humility, the more we are lifted up to make progress.”
Humility declares, “I don’t know the way.”
Humility opens the door to learning. To growth.
Humility says, “There must be more, and I am open to it.”
Humility says, “I cannot save myself.”
(By the way, humility is not merely self-deprecating or a way for us to belittle ourselves; it is a way to open ourselves up to growth and change. Feeling sorry for ourselves can actually merely be another way to be arrogant and self-centered. True humility is accompanied by a desire and willingness to change, to move, to reconsider.)
So, as 2013 begins, where are you with humility? Have you figured it all out, or are you still willing to acknowledge that you need to make more “progress”?
If you’re still learning, still growing, still changing, what are you doing to continue to learn and grow this year?
Across centuries of authors, cultures, and geography.
Thoughts and words scribbled in the wilderness and in the sprawling metropolis of the ancient world; by educated people and by shepherds; by pastors and by business people; by free people and by people who are in captive exile. They are words of teaching, of story-telling, of prophetic anger, of poetry and prayers.
And they are our words. They belong to us.
(Or, perhaps more accurately, we belong to them.)
Either way, this epic story can be difficult to understand:
What story does it tell?
Is there even a coherent story through it, or does the whole Bible just not really “fit”?
What do you do with all the apparent contradictions?
How do you understand it?
Can we understand it?
Being a people “of the book,” I think there’s a lot riding on these questions. The Bible can be intimidating and frustrating: what does ancient Israel have to do with 21st century Christianity? How do you square all the blood-letting in the Old Testament with the “peace and love” message of Jesus? How do you get past the occasional-yet-seemingly-endless list of names and genealogies?
It seems like there are two reactions to the challenge of the Bible: either people manipulate the Bible to do and be what they want it to be, or they just run away from it.
Both of these reactions are unacceptable.
In The Creative Habit, Twyla Tharp says that creative projects should have a “spine”, that central thing that holds the whole project together. “The spine is the statement you make to yourself outlining your intentions for the work. You intend to tell this story. You intend to explore this theme. You intend to employ this structure. The audience may infer it or not. But if you stick to your spine, the piece will work.”
Does the Bible have a spine?
I think it does, and I think we can find it.
In late 2013, I started to wonder if you could extract a few passages and stories from the Bible that would show the “spine” of the Bible. Then, I stumbled across Rob Bell’s Tumblr series on the Bible, and thought to myself, “Yeah, I should try this.”
So here it goes…
I think there are a handful of critical Bible passages that serve as the “spine” of the Story that God is telling through the Bible, and over the next few months we’re going to explore them together. Roughly, they can be found in or around:
Genesis 1-2
Genesis 3
Genesis 12:1-4 and 15
Exodus 20:1-21
Deuteronomy 28
Jeremiah 39
Amos 5
Isaiah 55
Matthew 2
Luke 4
Mark 8
John 4
Luke 22
Mark 15
Luke 24
Matthew 28 (+ Acts 1)
Ephesians 4
Revelation 21
Essentially, what I’m saying is that you can draw a line through these scriptures and see that God is up to something, and that you can see the “spine” of God’s story in Scripture. That’s not to say that there aren’t difficult parts to understand or process, but there is a story through it. (Oh, and by the way, it’s not simply “God loves you.” While that’s accurate and perfectly lovely statement, God’s mission is much, much larger than that.)
I love to collect quotes and sayings that challenge or inspire me, or just help me things differently. Here’s a list of things that warranted me writing them down in 2013:
Jan
The only joy on earth is to escape from the prison of our own false self, and enter by love into union with the life Who dwells and sings within the essence of every creature and in the core of our own souls. -Thomas Merton
“Faith does not simply account for the unknown, tag it with a theological tag and file it away in a safe place where we do not have to worry about it. This is a falsification of the whole idea of faith. On the contrary, faith incorporates the unknown into our everyday life in a living dynamic and actual manner. The unknown remains unknown. It is still a mystery, for it cannot cease to be one. The function of faith is not to reduce mystery to rational clarity, but to integrate the unknown and the known together in a living whole, in which we are more and more able to transcend the limitations of our external self. -Merton
“In fighting deliberate and evident vices a planned strategy of resolutions and penances is the best way—if not the only way… When it ends, and when you have a good habit to work with, do not forget the moments of battle when you were wounded and disarmed and helpless. Do not forget that, for all your efforts, you only won because of God, Who did the fighting in you.” -Merton
“We all want to be healed, but the staggering truth of our faith is that God’s presence with us is ultimately more important than our healing.” -Me 🙂
Feb
“We were innocent before we started feeling guilty; we were in the light before we entered into darkness; we were at home before we started to search for a home. Deep in the recesses of our minds and hearts there lies hidden treasure we seek.” -Nouwen
“The eyes of love had seen you as precious, as of infinite, as of eternal value. When loves chooses, it chooses with a perfect sensitivity for the unique beautify of the chosen one, and it chooses without making anyone else feel excluded.” -Nouwen
“There is little or no neutral territory between the land of the blessed and the land of the cursed. You have to choose where it is that you want to live, and that choice is one that you have to keep making from moment to moment.” -Nouwen
“The great spiritual call of the Beloved Children of God is to pull their brokenness away from the shadow of the curse and put it under the light of the blessing.” -Nouwen
“Eternal life is not some great surprise that comes unannounced at the end of our existence in time; it is rather, the full revelation of what we have been and have lived all along.” -Nouwen
“You hit bottom when you stop digging.”
Jul
“My goal in life is not to ‘succeed’; it’s to live my life with humility.”
Aug
“Leadership is getting more out of people than the science of management says you can.” -Colin Powell
Sept
“The value of and interest of life is not so much to do conspicuous things… as to do ordinary things with the perception of their enormous value.” -Teilhard de Chardin
Nov
“The world needs more than the secret holiness of individual inwardness. It needs more than sacred sentiments and good intentions. God asks for the heart because He needs the lives. It is by lives that the world will be redeemed, by lives that beat in concordance with God, by deeds that outbeat the finite charity of the human heart.” -Abraham Joshua Heschel
Since I laid out my books, I thought I’d briefly go through some musical purchases that I enjoyed this year.
*NOTE 1: These aren’t necessarily 2013 releases; they are 2013 discoveries
*NOTE 2: I don’t listen to quite as much music as I used to, so don’t expect to be wowed. I just thought I’d share.
*NOTE 3: I still listen have a steady list of “older” favorites that were in heavy rotation in 2013 (though not purchased):
Live at Leeds. The Who.
El Camino. The Black Keys (one of Levi’s favorites)
Sevastapol. Jay Farrar (one of my top 5 driving CDs)
Most of Emmylou Harris’ catalog
Most of Sigur Rós’ cataglog
High Violet. The National
But anyway… here’s 2013 music:
Ode to Sunshine. The Delta Spirit. Maida Vale shared a stage with these guys in 2008 or 2009, and they blew us away with their raw intensity and musicianship. Reminded me of a much more angsty version of The Band.
Sea of Cowards. The Dead Weather. When I first heard this band, they were just too creepy for me. Either they have gotten less creepy, or I’ve gotten moreso. Either way, Jack White and Alison Morehart are a potent duo, and they write killer riffs and haunting songs. Scary, but good.
Wise Up Ghost. Elvis Costello and the Roots. Oh my: this is virtually required. There’s not a super-catchy pop song on this collection, IMO, but just by virtue of the fact that it’s Costello (one of the most well-respected songwriters in this era) and The Roots (they should be declared a national treasure, the way Brazil declared Pele a national treasure back in the 70s), you should be listening to this.
More Than Just a Dream. Fitz and the Tantrums. This was part of the summer soundtrack of the Case household. We collectively love these guys. Best if listened to loudly, while dancing.
Love in the Future. John Legend. I pretty much love everything John Legend does. So there.
Born and Raised. John Mayer. If there was a soundtrack to my sabbatical, this was it. This record just broke me down, and helped me heal. The title track also served as the inspiration for “My Redeemer Lives”, from my little release this summer. I haven’t been pierced by lyrics like this in a long while, and it felt good.
The Invisible Way. Low. This is “Where have I been?” Part 1. These guys are simply amazing. Gentle, rainy music. I found these guys through “Silver Rider” from Robert Plant’s Band of Joy disc, but boy I’m sure glad I found the rest.
Trouble Will Find Me. The National. Oh yes. Just as subtle, melancholy, and “New York” as the previous ones. Thank you.
Hesitation Marks. Nine Inch Nails. After Wilco’s Sky Blue Sky came out, a friend of mine remarked, “You know, I think that lyrically I like addicted Jeff Tweedy a little more than sober Jeff Tweedy.” Insensitive, I know, but I think I can relate: I like angry Trent Reznor a little bit better than married and content Trent Reznor. However, everything is relative: “content” Trent Reznor is still pretty dark and twisted. Hesitation Marks isn’t my favorite NIN record by far, but it still has its darkly groovy moments.
Woman. Rhye. This is another summer soundtrack in our house. This record is gently and sensuous. Definitely a cool, mellow, evening music. (P.S. the singer’s a dude!)
Kveikur. Sigur Rós. Creepy. Just creepy.
Well, there you have it. No links or anything, so if you want it … go snag it.
Honestly, I’ve been in a funk, and haven’t been focused on writing so much.
(As I’m writing this I’m listening to Rush for crying out loud!)
But that being said, I’ve been kicking around a few ideas, and I figured I’d start by doing a somewhat haphazard book and music review of 2013.
I’m just going to list everything that I’ve bought and read/listened to, and throw out some notes where something strikes me.
Enjoy, and feel free to ask me questions about anything you see on the list.
Books
Leadership Jazz. Max DePree. I’ve had this a long time, and just decided to review it for the heck of it.
The War of Art. Stephen Pressfield. If you do anything creative (and let’s face it: it’s all creative, isn’t it?), this is a must read. I’ve read it twice already, and I only bought it in 2012.
Sabbath. Dan Allender
Spiritual Direction and Meditation. Thomas Merton.
Catching Fire. I have a daughter; deal with it.
New Seeds of Contemplation. Thomas Merton. Very impactful book. God broke me down, grew me and stretched me in unbelievable ways in 2013, and this was one of the things that “primed the pump.”
Giving Church Another Chance. Todd Hunter. An evangelical-turned-Anglican describes the impact of the liturgy on his spiritual life.
Mockingjay. I still have a daughter; deal with it.
Life of the Beloved. Nouwen. This was the first book I read when I started in vocational ministry. It still hits home with me every time. Highly recommended.
Slam. Nick Hornby. Great fiction by my favorite modern English writer.
Getting Things Done. David Allen. My approach to productivity; I try to read this once a year.
Courageous Leadership. Bill Hybels. A great overview of leadership in ministry.
Bread & Wine. A devotional for Lent. Variety of writers.
The History of Christianity, Vol 2 (Gonzalez). Read it for Asbury, but it’s a great book.
Reason and Religious Belief. Read for a philosophy of Christian religion class. Made my brain hurt.
Philosophy of Religion. Same. Brain hurt more.
The Wounded Healer. Nouwen. Another tiny book with heavy truth in it. Addresses empathy and openness in pastors.
Last Argument of Kings. Joe Abercrombie. Fantasy/fiction.
The Illumined Heart. Mathews-Green. This tiny book will rock your world if you let it. If you are looking for practical ways to make your faith a day-to-day (moment-to-moment?) experience, grab this and open your heart and mind.
Born to Run. A great book on running. It inspired me to actually commit to a 5k.
Ruthless Trust. Brennan Manning. I always make sure I read one Brennan Manning book per year. This is a brilliant, challenging book on trusting Jesus to love us in spite of brokenness.
Open Heart, Open Mind. Thomas Keating. A game changer. Given to me by a spiritual mentor, and it’s changed the way I view prayer, and my spiritual journey. This is deep, deep stuff.
The Way of Men. Martin Buber. I went through a brief fascination with hasidic writing. This is a very short book, but a good introduction.
King Leopold’s Ghost. Inspired by a conversation with a good friend, combined with an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown. It’s a recounting of the tragedy of the Belgian Congo. Millions of Africans murdered in the name of … well, nothing. Genocide. Sad, but necessary reading.
Sacred Treason. Historical fiction.
The Creative Habit. Twyla Tharp. I’m always up for a good read on creativity, and this book is spot-on. Great, practical advice on developing habits for creativity.
Introduction to Christian Doctrine. Lawson. Seminary reading.
Introduction to Christian Theology. Gonzalez and Perez. Seminary reading, but a great basic intro to theology and doctrine.
Leonardo and the Last Supper. Ross King. Ross King is a great historian and story-teller. Good study of Di Vinci’s efforts to paint the last supper. (Ross King’s book Michelangelo and the Pope’s Ceiling is a big inspiration for my on-again, off-again book on spiritual disciplines).
Facing East. Mathewes-Green. This is about a family’s journey into the Orthodox faith.
David and Goliath. Malcolm Gladwell. I’ve always been a fan of Gladwell’s, and this book is more of the same. Not quite as many brilliant insights as in some of his previous works, but great stories all the same.
The Solace of Fierce Landscapes. Beldon Lane. I really enjoyed this book. It’s about desert spirituality, and really impacted me this year. A lot of my reading came together around common themes, and desert monasticism loomed large for me. It was very healthy and healing.
Managing Your Day-to-Day. 99U. This is a great collection of essays on creative productivity. Full of tips and strategies to stay focused on “getting stuff done.”
Breathing Underwater. Richard Rohr. This book on recovery and 12-step spirituality had a deep impact on me. Rohr really has a grasp on spiritual growth.
The Gospel of Mark: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary. Ben Witherington. Witherington’s New Testament commentaries are really good and useful. Challenging, but also pretty solid scholarship.
Divine Therapy. Thomas Keating.
Spirituality of Imperfection. Just wow. A new perspective of life, and what it means to be human. One of my main influences this fall.
11/22/63. Stephen King. An odd book for me, but King is a great writer, and I decided to take a chance. About Kennedy’s assassination. And time travel. And creepy buildings.
Gone Girl. Another odd choice, but a thriller. Well written.
Heroes and Heretics. Thomas Cahill. I pushed to get this read before Jan 31. Cahill is a brilliant writer, and this is another book in his “Hinges of History” series. It’s all about identifying turning points in history—including social, spiritual, cultural, artistic movements—and showing how they came about and what kind of influence they had. I highly recommend any of them, but if you want to start somewhere, look at either The Desire of the Everlasting Hillsor How the Irish Saved Civilization.
One of the things that I’m continuously struck with when I actually take the time to study Judaism (and not just what I’m told about Judaism) is how much more faith-oriented and devotional it actually is.
I grew up Methodist, but I started getting involved in more “evangelical” expressions of Christianity in my 20s, and that’s when I began to regularly hear about how Jesus came to rescue us all from captivity to the “Law,” and how Judaism (usually represented by the poor pharisees; taking the brunt of our jabs for centuries) was a religion of “works” that failed to understand what God REALLY wanted Somehow they’d missed all the writings in the prophets where, um, JEWS had reminded each other of what God really wanted, like in Isaiah 1:
13 Stop bringing worthless offerings.
Your incense repulses me.
New moon, sabbath, and the calling of an assembly—
I can’t stand wickedness with celebration!
14 I hate your new moons and your festivals.
They’ve become a burden that I’m tired of bearing.
15 When you extend your hands,
I’ll hide my eyes from you.
Even when you pray for a long time,
I won’t listen.
Your hands are stained with blood.
16 Wash! Be clean!
Remove your ugly deeds from my sight.
Put an end to such evil;
17 learn to do good.
Seek justice:
help the oppressed;
defend the orphan;
plead for the widow.
18 Come now, and let’s settle this,
says the Lord.
Though your sins are like scarlet,
they will be white as snow.
If they are red as crimson,
they will become like wool.
But somehow we made it all work out; Jesus came to set us free from “dead religion.”
But it’s funny, when you actually read what a lot of Jews say about their faith (that’s right, I used that word), the math begins to break down. (Even Paul’s view on the Law is not quite so monochromatic as what we might think, but that is perhaps for another post.)
For instance, read this from Heschel:
The world needs more than the secret holiness of individual inwardness. It needs more than sacred sentiments and good intentions. God asks for the heart because He needs the lives. It is by lives that the world will be redeemed, by lives that beat in concordance with God, by deeds that outbeat the finite charity of the human heart.
Does that sound like a “dead, works-based religion”?
Trust me: there’s lots more where that came from.
If I had to boil it down, I’d start perhaps with these statements:
Judaism has many different strands to it; some are more focused on the Law than others.
On the whole, Judaism is as Spirit-focused as Christianity; conversely, it’s possible to find some strands of Christianity that are as works/law-focused as our (incorrect) vision of Judaism.
In essence, this is what Paul is condemning: He doesn’t condemn the Law, per se, he condemns trusting the Law for salvation.
Jesus still came, lived, died and was raised to set us free from sin.
A huge (and still woefully overlooked) implication of this is that the Gentiles (that’s me) could be included in the people of God.
Which is the Church.
Should this shape the way we live? Absolutely. We should take the Law (which we really should understand as, “The Instruction“) seriously, not just as the prequel to Jesus.
Should this shape the way we understand Judaism? Yes. Though we still disagree in regards to who Jesus was/is (and this is no small thing), we are closer in our faith (there’s that word again) than perhaps we’d like to believe.
Should this shape the way we preach? Yes, yes, and yes. In my opinion, Christians—and Evangelicals in particular—are constantly inventing “enemies” to preach against. Whether it’s the law, the liberals, the conservatives, or the fundamentals, we seem to thrive on false enemies. We need to release the Law from our expectations, and try to understand it more from a wider perspective. Though we’d lose this “enemy” we may actually find ourselves free to pursue a more constructive agenda in the world (though one that requires much more work and creativity).
![William Blake [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](https://thisisericcase.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/europe_a_prophecy_copy_d_object_1_bentley_1_erdman_i_keynes_i_british_museum.jpg)
this is eric case 