So now the New York Times has picked up the Calvinist current tearing across the Church in America today: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/04/us/a-calvinist-revival-for-evangelicals.html?_r=0.
In general, the article is illuminating. The writer identifies some of the key figures in the Calvinist resurgence, notes the age demographic that is shifting the most dramatically (young adults), and find an able, Arminian critic of Calvinism, though the attention paid to church politics rather than the actual theological dispute is not so helpful.
In an otherwise decent article, the only big drawback is the irrelevant and factually incorrect remarks by the professor of Union Seminary at the end of the article. In trying to claim Calvin for theological liberals, she claimed that Calvin believed that civic engagement was the primary form of obedience to God. Wrong. She also says that Calvin did not read Scripture literally. If by literal, she means that he didn't fall into the twentieth century trap of identifying locusts with Soviet helicopters, then she is correct. Otherwise, she is not only wrong but dramatically so. She also claimed that Calvin misquoted Scripture and made up verses that didn't exist. That's a weighty contention to make against a historical figure who is very highly regarded as an exegete by many a theologian, regardless of tradition.
All that said, much of the media attention paid to this Reformation wave highlights the appeal of honestly dealing with hard truths. In the article, the writer mentions two of the doctrines that make-up the acronym TULIP--total depravity and unconditional election--and immediately follows with his only one-liner in the article: "The acronym gets to cheerier from there."
What this writer and so many others miss about the beauty of Calvinism is that it is not simply rooted in a refreshing honesty about biblical truth, it is rooted in the amazing, eternal love of God. Some of you might be dubious about this contention, especially when you consider TULIP in its fullness.
Total depravity conveys the idea that man in inherently sinful and corrupt, even from birth (Ps. 51; Rom. 3).
Unconditional election conveys the idea that God has already decided who He will save, regardless of what they do (Eph. 1; Rom. 9).
Limited atonement conveys the idea that Christ didn't die for the whole world, but only for His people (John 10).
Irresistible grace conveys the idea that if God wills to save someone, he/she will not persist in rebellion but will indeed believe and be saved (John 6).
Perseverance of the saints conveys the idea that once someone is saved, he/she is always saved and there is no chance of falling away (Rom. 8).
If man is totally depraved, and he is, then apart from God's love he is damned. God is altogether holy and righteous and will not suffer rebels to dine at His table. He is also perfectly just, which means He will not let sin go unpunished. He is perfectly merciful, but mercy does not afford much hope in and of itself if it is still conditioned in any part on man's obedience, since man is totally depraved (and if man played in role in His salvation, then it wouldn't truly be mercy).
Unless God's salvation of sinners is entirely of His choosing and unconditioned in the least by man's efforts, then man is damned. But if man's obedience is in no way the ground for his salvation, then what is? God's love. We cannot speak of unconditional election without speaking of God's unconditional love for His people in Jesus Christ. He chooses people from the beginning of time in accordance with His own will and for His own glory. And this choice, according to Ephesians 1, is rooted in love.
God's unconditional love and unconditional election go hand in hand, and from this ground grows forth the beautiful truths of the Gospel, in which justice and mercy kiss upon the cross and the Son of God becomes a willing sacrifice for God's beloved people.
In an age is which God is often treated as a cosmic boyfriend, we must turn the page and again think of Him as He taught us to pray, "Our Father, who art in heaven." For the child cannot earn the love of his father, but only be the grateful beneficiary of it.
If man is totally depraved, then He is totally damned...unless God is totally loving and willing and able to save the damnable.
In reality, millions of people across the country, especially the young, are simply learning an age-old truth: It is not that we have loved God, but that He has loved us.
It is love that burns in their hearts and is casting its flame across the countryside, the very flame of the Lord.
3.1.14
Why I Love This Job...Usually
I have a number of posts lined up in the ol' mental queue--book reviews, lessons learned, observations on the Army, philosophical critiques, etc., but once more, they must all be deferred.
There are some substantial reasons why I might not love the chaplaincy.
We are expected to solve all problems dealing with morals or morale, but are viewed suspiciously when we seek to use the resources of our faith--the very thing that equips us to be chaplains--in order to deal with these issues.
Like civilian pastors, the work of the chaplain is always underestimated and under-appreciated. We get the same snide remarks, like "It must be nice only having to work one day a week." If we don't produced quantifiable products, then we are seen as less effective and mission-essential than other soldiers. But even when we do quantify what we do, people often don't care. I list the number of counseling appointments I do and the categories they fall into in my weekly types reports, but it has been made clear that this info need not be included in my weekly verbal briefs to the staff.
It's as if people see their fellow soldiers as scaling great cliffs, while the chaplain stands at the base watching them. It seems a pretty mundane and insignificant task to observe these soldiers at work. Little do these folks know that dozens of these soldiers are connected by harness and rope to the chaplain down below. (It is much the same way with the civilian pastor and his brothers/sisters.)
That said, during a week that might be considered my hardest of the deployment, I cannot help but think how much I love this calling.
I always wanted to carry soldiers close to my heart as Christ carries me close to His. I always wanted to share their joys and their grief. I always wanted to know the stories behind the statistics. I always wanted to share about life in Christ amidst the valley of the shadow of death.
It makes me terribly sad to think about David, a brother who I got to know for too brief a time. Thoughts of Dana escorting her best friend home virtually paralyze me. For all their sins and frailties, this was the type of couple who would've been holding hands in fifty years as they neared the threshold of death. And they would've left behind a warm home filled with wonderful kids.
But I do not despise the relationships I have formed, the memories I hold, nor the grief I bear. This is my place, on the mourner's bench alongside those who grieve. By God's grace, I work at the intersection of human lives and the real world, where military traffic passes through every day, and no B.S. is allowed to pass. I tend a graveyard, not only for the memories of soldiers, but for utopian ideals, trite and petty cliches, rampant self-righteousness, and the haughtiness of the academy. War is where all these things come to die.
And out of war, emerging from the messy reintegration of families and the fading effects of PTSD, comes life and love. A soldier might think his wife a nag when he leaves home for war. He comes back to the one he knows warms both heart and hearth. Children might be thought an inconvenience when the soldiers leaves home for war. He returns in a state of defiance toward death, bearing children to replace the dead and raising children to nurture the living. This is my place as well.
The God-inspired author of Ecclesiastes, standing in the train of Solomon in all of his wisdom, power, and wealth, surveys the landscape of all worldly things "under the sun" and declares them all meaningless. He uses the term hebil, from which we get the name Abel, and which conveys the idea of unbelievable chaos and brokenness. According to one Hebrew teacher, this term, both semantically and contextually, carries the weight of a curse word. It's as if the writer is saying that the world and all of its idolatrous pursuits are f-ed up. It carries that profane, savage power.
But at the end of Ecclesiastes, the author says, in essence, "Here's the bottom line--the only reasonable way to think and live in this world is to fear God and keep His commandments." Under the sun, everything is screwed up. But, with heart is submission to He who reigns over it all, the chaos is imbued with meaning and hope.
And the One who reveals that to us is Jesus Christ. He entered into a world in such a shabby state that it could only be described truly with a word of curse. In life, death, resurrection, and ascension, He drew and draws hearts and minds beyond the sun. "Seek the things that are above," God tells us through Paul, "where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God" (Col. 3). It is there that those who have been raised with Christ find that there lives are hidden with Christ in God, only to be revealed when Christ in revealed in His final glory.
My goal, each and every week, is to take soldiers--who are under no illusions about life under the sun--and exhort them to seek the things that are above and find there the Champion of their souls.
(7)
There are some substantial reasons why I might not love the chaplaincy.
We are expected to solve all problems dealing with morals or morale, but are viewed suspiciously when we seek to use the resources of our faith--the very thing that equips us to be chaplains--in order to deal with these issues.
Like civilian pastors, the work of the chaplain is always underestimated and under-appreciated. We get the same snide remarks, like "It must be nice only having to work one day a week." If we don't produced quantifiable products, then we are seen as less effective and mission-essential than other soldiers. But even when we do quantify what we do, people often don't care. I list the number of counseling appointments I do and the categories they fall into in my weekly types reports, but it has been made clear that this info need not be included in my weekly verbal briefs to the staff.
It's as if people see their fellow soldiers as scaling great cliffs, while the chaplain stands at the base watching them. It seems a pretty mundane and insignificant task to observe these soldiers at work. Little do these folks know that dozens of these soldiers are connected by harness and rope to the chaplain down below. (It is much the same way with the civilian pastor and his brothers/sisters.)
That said, during a week that might be considered my hardest of the deployment, I cannot help but think how much I love this calling.
I always wanted to carry soldiers close to my heart as Christ carries me close to His. I always wanted to share their joys and their grief. I always wanted to know the stories behind the statistics. I always wanted to share about life in Christ amidst the valley of the shadow of death.
It makes me terribly sad to think about David, a brother who I got to know for too brief a time. Thoughts of Dana escorting her best friend home virtually paralyze me. For all their sins and frailties, this was the type of couple who would've been holding hands in fifty years as they neared the threshold of death. And they would've left behind a warm home filled with wonderful kids.
But I do not despise the relationships I have formed, the memories I hold, nor the grief I bear. This is my place, on the mourner's bench alongside those who grieve. By God's grace, I work at the intersection of human lives and the real world, where military traffic passes through every day, and no B.S. is allowed to pass. I tend a graveyard, not only for the memories of soldiers, but for utopian ideals, trite and petty cliches, rampant self-righteousness, and the haughtiness of the academy. War is where all these things come to die.
And out of war, emerging from the messy reintegration of families and the fading effects of PTSD, comes life and love. A soldier might think his wife a nag when he leaves home for war. He comes back to the one he knows warms both heart and hearth. Children might be thought an inconvenience when the soldiers leaves home for war. He returns in a state of defiance toward death, bearing children to replace the dead and raising children to nurture the living. This is my place as well.
The God-inspired author of Ecclesiastes, standing in the train of Solomon in all of his wisdom, power, and wealth, surveys the landscape of all worldly things "under the sun" and declares them all meaningless. He uses the term hebil, from which we get the name Abel, and which conveys the idea of unbelievable chaos and brokenness. According to one Hebrew teacher, this term, both semantically and contextually, carries the weight of a curse word. It's as if the writer is saying that the world and all of its idolatrous pursuits are f-ed up. It carries that profane, savage power.
But at the end of Ecclesiastes, the author says, in essence, "Here's the bottom line--the only reasonable way to think and live in this world is to fear God and keep His commandments." Under the sun, everything is screwed up. But, with heart is submission to He who reigns over it all, the chaos is imbued with meaning and hope.
And the One who reveals that to us is Jesus Christ. He entered into a world in such a shabby state that it could only be described truly with a word of curse. In life, death, resurrection, and ascension, He drew and draws hearts and minds beyond the sun. "Seek the things that are above," God tells us through Paul, "where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God" (Col. 3). It is there that those who have been raised with Christ find that there lives are hidden with Christ in God, only to be revealed when Christ in revealed in His final glory.
My goal, each and every week, is to take soldiers--who are under no illusions about life under the sun--and exhort them to seek the things that are above and find there the Champion of their souls.
(7)
Random Tidbits
I have been in this country for about six months and have borne witness to the application and consequences of the draw down. The tidbits of news the folks receive back home are but snapshots of what constitutes life for the soldiers out here.
66. The approximate number of Coalition fatalities since I have arrived, 56 of whom came from the United States. These numbers are substantially lower than in previous years, through the number of suicide attacks is at its highest point of the conflict. Our enthusiasm for the lower number of fatalities must be tempered by the fact that each soldier had his own story, his own place at the family table. Every week that I have been here, two soldiers have died and two seats have gone empty. The numbers can be found at http://icasualties.org/oef/.
3. The number of soldiers who ran the final race I coordinated this morning in the bitter cold (myself included). Also the number of minimum pull-ups required of female Marines, of which less than half could actually attain that minimum this past year...so they suspended the standard. Of the three of us who ran today, one was an Army chaplain, another one an Australian NCO, and finally...you guessed it...a female Marine. In between each lap, we did either 20 push-ups, 15 sit-ups, or 8 pull-ups. The female Marine did great. The Marine Corps believes that safety dictates being able to do at least three pull-ups--to scale a wall, climb a rope, carry ammo cans, etc. My teammate here could easily meet that standard. As for the rest--they should be suspended, not the standard. Men and women should become stronger to join our nation's military; our military should not be made weaker to accommodate those who cannot keep their battle buddies safe.
9. The number of months that my son will have enjoyed outside of the womb by the time I return. I was there for about four weeks of the first nine months. He can Army-crawl faster than Face Time can keep up, has learned the Charlie Brown-grin that I bore when I ran into a wall as a little kid, becomes more clever and keen at problem-solving by the day, and can stand while holding something for indefinite periods of time. About the time he starts to run, I should be there to catch him. May the time that soldiers lost with their families be added to the lives of their children, for whom they served.
17. The years elapsed since I finally bent the knee to the Lord who reigns over me, by His grace alone. In that time, a number of friends and many more admired acquaintances have died. Yet, unlike so much else, this period of time cannot really be quantified. No collection of numbers can alter the only equation that matters: Jesus=life. What incredible love it is, that God would send His own Son to live perfectly amidst the cruelties of this world and then die in my place. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing. The only appropriate response is gratitude.
God's servant, Zechariah, put it this way: On that day the LORD their God will save them, as the flock of his people; for like jewels of a crown they shall shine on his land. For how great is his goodness, and how great his beauty! (9:16-17)
5. The number of years I will have been married to my precious wife, within a few months of my redeployment. She planned a wedding across country while holding down four jobs while I left her for three months of initial Army chaplain training. In our first year of marriage, she would wake up well before dawn to start work at Starbucks, then pine for me as I worked late into the night at Books-a-Million. She helped me finally choose the ministry over politics and added encouragement and conviction to every other decision made--from denominations to work balance to children. After our trip to Malawi, she endured a family crisis while I was training with the Army in California. We got pregnant soon after and then passed through an incredibly scary surgery that place both her and our unborn son at risk. She cried when she realized she would lose me for the first year of our son's life, but drew upon the strength that only God can give to persevere. I can hope for 50 more years, but am truly content and at peace with the gift of these first five.
If anyone would like to support a charity in honor of CPT Dave Lyon, the information can be found here: http://daveanddana.weebly.com/updates.html
66. The approximate number of Coalition fatalities since I have arrived, 56 of whom came from the United States. These numbers are substantially lower than in previous years, through the number of suicide attacks is at its highest point of the conflict. Our enthusiasm for the lower number of fatalities must be tempered by the fact that each soldier had his own story, his own place at the family table. Every week that I have been here, two soldiers have died and two seats have gone empty. The numbers can be found at http://icasualties.org/oef/.
3. The number of soldiers who ran the final race I coordinated this morning in the bitter cold (myself included). Also the number of minimum pull-ups required of female Marines, of which less than half could actually attain that minimum this past year...so they suspended the standard. Of the three of us who ran today, one was an Army chaplain, another one an Australian NCO, and finally...you guessed it...a female Marine. In between each lap, we did either 20 push-ups, 15 sit-ups, or 8 pull-ups. The female Marine did great. The Marine Corps believes that safety dictates being able to do at least three pull-ups--to scale a wall, climb a rope, carry ammo cans, etc. My teammate here could easily meet that standard. As for the rest--they should be suspended, not the standard. Men and women should become stronger to join our nation's military; our military should not be made weaker to accommodate those who cannot keep their battle buddies safe.
9. The number of months that my son will have enjoyed outside of the womb by the time I return. I was there for about four weeks of the first nine months. He can Army-crawl faster than Face Time can keep up, has learned the Charlie Brown-grin that I bore when I ran into a wall as a little kid, becomes more clever and keen at problem-solving by the day, and can stand while holding something for indefinite periods of time. About the time he starts to run, I should be there to catch him. May the time that soldiers lost with their families be added to the lives of their children, for whom they served.
17. The years elapsed since I finally bent the knee to the Lord who reigns over me, by His grace alone. In that time, a number of friends and many more admired acquaintances have died. Yet, unlike so much else, this period of time cannot really be quantified. No collection of numbers can alter the only equation that matters: Jesus=life. What incredible love it is, that God would send His own Son to live perfectly amidst the cruelties of this world and then die in my place. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing. The only appropriate response is gratitude.
God's servant, Zechariah, put it this way: On that day the LORD their God will save them, as the flock of his people; for like jewels of a crown they shall shine on his land. For how great is his goodness, and how great his beauty! (9:16-17)
5. The number of years I will have been married to my precious wife, within a few months of my redeployment. She planned a wedding across country while holding down four jobs while I left her for three months of initial Army chaplain training. In our first year of marriage, she would wake up well before dawn to start work at Starbucks, then pine for me as I worked late into the night at Books-a-Million. She helped me finally choose the ministry over politics and added encouragement and conviction to every other decision made--from denominations to work balance to children. After our trip to Malawi, she endured a family crisis while I was training with the Army in California. We got pregnant soon after and then passed through an incredibly scary surgery that place both her and our unborn son at risk. She cried when she realized she would lose me for the first year of our son's life, but drew upon the strength that only God can give to persevere. I can hope for 50 more years, but am truly content and at peace with the gift of these first five.
If anyone would like to support a charity in honor of CPT Dave Lyon, the information can be found here: http://daveanddana.weebly.com/updates.html
We Must Confront Mortality
Here is a paraphrase of my moral update/thought for the day that I delivered at our weekly command briefing, consisting of about 15-20 soldiers.
Good Morning, Sir, Sergeant Major, and Staff.
This week a number of our soldiers were affected by the loss of CPT David Lyon in the VBIED attack nearby. A number of us either knew David directly, or knew his wife, CPT Dana Lyon, who served here at Camp Phoenix.
In a time like this, soldiers become profoundly aware of their mortality and the fact that we all must come to terms with death. In general, our culture flees from this concept of mortality, but as soldiers, we do not have that luxury. As with this past week, we often come face-to-face with our mortality.
But it is not enough to come to terms with our mortality, but to confront it.
I met David Lyon this past August, and learned that he had become a Christian as a young adult. He firmly believed that in this life and the one to come, he belonged to Jesus Christ. This knowledge brought him both hope and comfort.
His wife, Dana, shares this faith, and that has sustained her in this past week of hell, which included accompanying the body of her husband back to the States. She believes that David now resides with his Lord and Savior in Heaven. Through her constant posts, she testifies to her faith in Christ and provides as much comfort to others as she receives.
Both David and Dana were enabled to confront mortality. They asked deep questions and sought satisfying solutions. The answers they received enabled them to confront mortality, and we should follow in their footsteps.
We must not merely come to terms with mortality, but confront it. We must ask the questions and seek the solutions that will provide the truth by which we can have hope in the face of such tragedies. And more than ever, we are reminded to do this in light of what happened this past week.
That is my thought of the day, sir. Pending your questions...
(8)
Good Morning, Sir, Sergeant Major, and Staff.
This week a number of our soldiers were affected by the loss of CPT David Lyon in the VBIED attack nearby. A number of us either knew David directly, or knew his wife, CPT Dana Lyon, who served here at Camp Phoenix.
In a time like this, soldiers become profoundly aware of their mortality and the fact that we all must come to terms with death. In general, our culture flees from this concept of mortality, but as soldiers, we do not have that luxury. As with this past week, we often come face-to-face with our mortality.
But it is not enough to come to terms with our mortality, but to confront it.
I met David Lyon this past August, and learned that he had become a Christian as a young adult. He firmly believed that in this life and the one to come, he belonged to Jesus Christ. This knowledge brought him both hope and comfort.
His wife, Dana, shares this faith, and that has sustained her in this past week of hell, which included accompanying the body of her husband back to the States. She believes that David now resides with his Lord and Savior in Heaven. Through her constant posts, she testifies to her faith in Christ and provides as much comfort to others as she receives.
Both David and Dana were enabled to confront mortality. They asked deep questions and sought satisfying solutions. The answers they received enabled them to confront mortality, and we should follow in their footsteps.
We must not merely come to terms with mortality, but confront it. We must ask the questions and seek the solutions that will provide the truth by which we can have hope in the face of such tragedies. And more than ever, we are reminded to do this in light of what happened this past week.
That is my thought of the day, sir. Pending your questions...
(8)
2.1.14
Pathways of Grief
As my workload diminishes out here and my need to process grief increases, you can expect more frequent blog posts, both for my own self-therapy, and by God's grace, to be informative and therapeutic for you as well.
When tragedy strikes, especially death, it poses an objective problem for all those affected--namely, how do you process something that is in no way reasonable or rational? Despite the petty cliches, tragedies are not a normal part of this world and death is not a part of life. They are alien impositions upon a world created good and a humanity created in God's image.
The way deals with the objective problem of a tragedy poses a new, subjective problem--namely, grief. Minor instances of grief might be alleviated by changing circumstances, time, talking, or psychological treatment. Major instances of grief prove too sloppy for normal remedies. One can do nothing about a tragedy itself, so that problem must remain unresolved, but one can affect grief, which can be channeled in a number of different directions. Here are some of the primary options:
Grief to depression. This response is rather common. One realizes their inability to affect the objective problem--tragedy--and throws his/her hands up in the air. I descended onto this plane at times during my childhood, at the death of my friend, Chelle, in college, and to a lesser extent, during my first year or two of marriage and simultaneous professional instability. This pathway makes no attempt to find light at the end of the tunnel. It resigns itself to darkness and casts a pall over both present and future. In light of David Lyon's death, it will be easy for some to say "This is war." "This is life." "This is how it all will inevitably end anyway." I know that I am consistently distracted right now by thoughts of David and Dana's non-existent children and future. But just as likely as, and often in conjunction with depression is anger.
Grief to anger. If depression expresses resignation in the face of tragedy, anger is an act and attitude of defiance. It finds answers in the wrong places. This is what tempts family members to turn against each other when a loved one dies. Unable to make sense of the tragedy or process the grief, people remember real or perceived slights against themselves or the deceased, and attack. When a soldier is killed, there is always a risk that other soldiers will try to seek revenge against any/every enemy. They also can grow disillusioned with the war effort ("Why are we helping them when they are killing us?") They can also turn against family members and their ability to continue with the mundane things of life. I sense in myself a deep-seated anger that is looking for convenient targets. I remember perceived slights more, and find myself angry to the point of muttering and "Christian swearing" (dang it!) when my internet connection doesn't work, someone knocks on the door, or people are being too loud outside of my office. Often times, I am simply angry with myself.
Grief to guilt. You will often hear people say "I wish I would've/could've/should've..." after a tragedy. They regret everything short of perfection in their relationship with the deceased, now that they have lost the opportunity to ever make amends. "I should've said 'I love you' more!" "Why didn't I go to say 'Goodbye' when I had the chance?" Guilt is very common amongst soldiers after a death. "That was my soldier/battle buddy, and I should've protected him!" "I wish it was me." Guilt is the attempt to control the past because it is impossible to control the present and future.
And guilt presently shadows me. Why didn't I follow up with David when I knew he was isolated and lonely up north? Is busyness truly an excuse? Why didn't I get to know Dana when I saw her so much? Why am I always so superficial, so that everyone knows me but I rarely know them? Of course, guilt wouldn't be complete without asking "Why not me?" Even at thirty one years of age and head of a young family, I feel spoiled with life, riches, and love. I constantly think "Why do I get all this and he won't even have the chance?" None of these questions help. I can't change the past. In its attempt to control the past, guilt is often accompanied by nostalgia.
Grief to nostalgia. While nostalgia isn't bad in itself and seems to pale in comparison to depression, anger, and guilt, it can still be unhealthy. How many hours are wasted wishing for a past time that no longer exists? How many days are spent piecing together memories that were relatively insubstantial until tragedy struck? I befriended David over the course of several hours early in this deployment, but my mind is working in overdrive to meticulously put together all fading fragments of memories of a man who no longer exists on this earth.
Ultimately, all of these pathways are understandable and require the time, energy, and empathy of others, but they are also sinful. In trying to come to terms with the brokenness of this world, these pathways enable an individual to resign himself/herself to hopelessness, turn grief upon others, and try to control the past. They each make idols of something created--either the broken fabric of the world itself, other people or circumstances, or the past. And none of the idols will alleviate the pain more than temper it, let alone wipe tears from the eyes of the hurting.
Grief to hope. While there is no opportunity to comprehend the mysterious providence of God in a tragedy, one can submit his/her grief to Him as the One who alone holds all of human existence within His sovereign control. Some have claimed that because of this belief, religion is an opiate for the masses. I would argue the opposite. Opiates cover pain, but do nothing for a wound. Depression, anger, grief, and nostalgia are all opiates. They seem to soothe for a time, but merely pacify the grief for a time and do nothing with regard to the tragedy itself. The truth of biblical Christianity, on the other hand, doesn't seek to deal simply with understanding and overcoming grief (like much of modern psychology), it provides understanding of the real world and gives the tools for overcoming it in it's brokenness. Christ is not an opiate--He heals.
In Christ, I know why this world is the way it is--human sinfulness and rebellion against God, which infects the very fabric of this world. I know that the natural consequence of mankind's sin is a natural death and that the spiritual consequence is wrath and damnation. I know that God, the Judge of the world, sent His own Son--fully God and fully man--to experience a life of brokenness, yet without sin, and to bear His judgment on the cross in place of the damn-worthy. I know that the Gospel of grace is rooted in the eternal love of God for His people, and is expressed in the tears of Jesus, who wept at the tomb of a man he was about to raise. He didn't grieve because of despondency, but because He was there at the beginning and was looking upon what man had made of His creation. He washed the feet of those who abandoned Him and cried out for forgiveness for those who crucified Him. He promised, at the very end of His Word, to wipe away every tear from the eyes of those who belong body and soul to Him.
And so, as the Apostle Paul tells us under God's direction, the believer is not grieve as the unbeliever does--without hope--but we grieve as those with hope. The present suffering cannot compare to the future glory that awaits us, when Christ will appear and we will appear with Him in glory. With the arm of the cross and the arm of throne, God sweeps up His people in the historical past and future, granting us comfort in the present. Sin will not win, nor suffering, nor death. When this is all said and done, it will be Christ on the throne. And in the meantime, as many of us wrestle with depression, anger, guilt, and nostalgia, we must lift our souls to the Lord, to worship now on earth as David does in heaven, and as all belong to Jesus will do in the age to come.
(9)
When tragedy strikes, especially death, it poses an objective problem for all those affected--namely, how do you process something that is in no way reasonable or rational? Despite the petty cliches, tragedies are not a normal part of this world and death is not a part of life. They are alien impositions upon a world created good and a humanity created in God's image.
The way deals with the objective problem of a tragedy poses a new, subjective problem--namely, grief. Minor instances of grief might be alleviated by changing circumstances, time, talking, or psychological treatment. Major instances of grief prove too sloppy for normal remedies. One can do nothing about a tragedy itself, so that problem must remain unresolved, but one can affect grief, which can be channeled in a number of different directions. Here are some of the primary options:
Grief to depression. This response is rather common. One realizes their inability to affect the objective problem--tragedy--and throws his/her hands up in the air. I descended onto this plane at times during my childhood, at the death of my friend, Chelle, in college, and to a lesser extent, during my first year or two of marriage and simultaneous professional instability. This pathway makes no attempt to find light at the end of the tunnel. It resigns itself to darkness and casts a pall over both present and future. In light of David Lyon's death, it will be easy for some to say "This is war." "This is life." "This is how it all will inevitably end anyway." I know that I am consistently distracted right now by thoughts of David and Dana's non-existent children and future. But just as likely as, and often in conjunction with depression is anger.
Grief to anger. If depression expresses resignation in the face of tragedy, anger is an act and attitude of defiance. It finds answers in the wrong places. This is what tempts family members to turn against each other when a loved one dies. Unable to make sense of the tragedy or process the grief, people remember real or perceived slights against themselves or the deceased, and attack. When a soldier is killed, there is always a risk that other soldiers will try to seek revenge against any/every enemy. They also can grow disillusioned with the war effort ("Why are we helping them when they are killing us?") They can also turn against family members and their ability to continue with the mundane things of life. I sense in myself a deep-seated anger that is looking for convenient targets. I remember perceived slights more, and find myself angry to the point of muttering and "Christian swearing" (dang it!) when my internet connection doesn't work, someone knocks on the door, or people are being too loud outside of my office. Often times, I am simply angry with myself.
Grief to guilt. You will often hear people say "I wish I would've/could've/should've..." after a tragedy. They regret everything short of perfection in their relationship with the deceased, now that they have lost the opportunity to ever make amends. "I should've said 'I love you' more!" "Why didn't I go to say 'Goodbye' when I had the chance?" Guilt is very common amongst soldiers after a death. "That was my soldier/battle buddy, and I should've protected him!" "I wish it was me." Guilt is the attempt to control the past because it is impossible to control the present and future.
And guilt presently shadows me. Why didn't I follow up with David when I knew he was isolated and lonely up north? Is busyness truly an excuse? Why didn't I get to know Dana when I saw her so much? Why am I always so superficial, so that everyone knows me but I rarely know them? Of course, guilt wouldn't be complete without asking "Why not me?" Even at thirty one years of age and head of a young family, I feel spoiled with life, riches, and love. I constantly think "Why do I get all this and he won't even have the chance?" None of these questions help. I can't change the past. In its attempt to control the past, guilt is often accompanied by nostalgia.
Grief to nostalgia. While nostalgia isn't bad in itself and seems to pale in comparison to depression, anger, and guilt, it can still be unhealthy. How many hours are wasted wishing for a past time that no longer exists? How many days are spent piecing together memories that were relatively insubstantial until tragedy struck? I befriended David over the course of several hours early in this deployment, but my mind is working in overdrive to meticulously put together all fading fragments of memories of a man who no longer exists on this earth.
Ultimately, all of these pathways are understandable and require the time, energy, and empathy of others, but they are also sinful. In trying to come to terms with the brokenness of this world, these pathways enable an individual to resign himself/herself to hopelessness, turn grief upon others, and try to control the past. They each make idols of something created--either the broken fabric of the world itself, other people or circumstances, or the past. And none of the idols will alleviate the pain more than temper it, let alone wipe tears from the eyes of the hurting.
Grief to hope. While there is no opportunity to comprehend the mysterious providence of God in a tragedy, one can submit his/her grief to Him as the One who alone holds all of human existence within His sovereign control. Some have claimed that because of this belief, religion is an opiate for the masses. I would argue the opposite. Opiates cover pain, but do nothing for a wound. Depression, anger, grief, and nostalgia are all opiates. They seem to soothe for a time, but merely pacify the grief for a time and do nothing with regard to the tragedy itself. The truth of biblical Christianity, on the other hand, doesn't seek to deal simply with understanding and overcoming grief (like much of modern psychology), it provides understanding of the real world and gives the tools for overcoming it in it's brokenness. Christ is not an opiate--He heals.
In Christ, I know why this world is the way it is--human sinfulness and rebellion against God, which infects the very fabric of this world. I know that the natural consequence of mankind's sin is a natural death and that the spiritual consequence is wrath and damnation. I know that God, the Judge of the world, sent His own Son--fully God and fully man--to experience a life of brokenness, yet without sin, and to bear His judgment on the cross in place of the damn-worthy. I know that the Gospel of grace is rooted in the eternal love of God for His people, and is expressed in the tears of Jesus, who wept at the tomb of a man he was about to raise. He didn't grieve because of despondency, but because He was there at the beginning and was looking upon what man had made of His creation. He washed the feet of those who abandoned Him and cried out for forgiveness for those who crucified Him. He promised, at the very end of His Word, to wipe away every tear from the eyes of those who belong body and soul to Him.
And so, as the Apostle Paul tells us under God's direction, the believer is not grieve as the unbeliever does--without hope--but we grieve as those with hope. The present suffering cannot compare to the future glory that awaits us, when Christ will appear and we will appear with Him in glory. With the arm of the cross and the arm of throne, God sweeps up His people in the historical past and future, granting us comfort in the present. Sin will not win, nor suffering, nor death. When this is all said and done, it will be Christ on the throne. And in the meantime, as many of us wrestle with depression, anger, guilt, and nostalgia, we must lift our souls to the Lord, to worship now on earth as David does in heaven, and as all belong to Jesus will do in the age to come.
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Rejoicing in Sorrow
20 Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. 21 And he said, “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
I have been interested in what we would hear from Dana in the immediate wake of her husband's death. Here are some of her earliest remarks:
I got to spend 48 hours with the most incredible man in the world, the absolute love of my life, best friend and leader.
These last 3 days have been the longest most miserable days of my life. We will soon be on our "Freedom Flight" home where he will receive the highest honors in a Dignified Transfer ceremony; certainly gives a whole new meaning to the word "freedom."
I will lay next to him, his casket draped with our Nation's flag and worship our Lord and Savior one last time with him. I'm bringing the love of my life home today, once my leader and protector--now God's mighty warrior. I know he is with Jesus and feels no pain.
Thank you all, each and everyone of you, for your prayers of love, support, comfort and encouragement.
For that 8 hour flight back to the states, I don't know what else to do but join him in singing,
"Holy, Holy, Holy... Is The Lord God almighty..."
I will lay next to him, his casket draped with our Nation's flag and worship our Lord and Savior one last time with him. I'm bringing the love of my life home today, once my leader and protector--now God's mighty warrior. I know he is with Jesus and feels no pain.
Thank you all, each and everyone of you, for your prayers of love, support, comfort and encouragement.
For that 8 hour flight back to the states, I don't know what else to do but join him in singing,
"Holy, Holy, Holy... Is The Lord God almighty..."
Our last supper, Christmas Day 25 December, 2013 at Camp Phoenix--Kabul, AFG
A lot more info, including a touching slideshow, can be found at this blog: http://www.nataliekirchhoff.com/
For more info on the David and the funeral arrangements to come, see http://daveanddana.weebly.com/
David's death is emblematic of what our country has lost, and what thousands of families have lost in service to their country. We hear of the loss of a soldier and think, "What a shame." But when we see the stories, the wife who wages war for hope (with victory assured in this case), then we begin to comprehend the devastation of each loss.
But please also take time to let Dana's words sink in. She cannot escape the grief. And who can possibly fathom those eight lonely hours alongside her husband's coffin? We can only imagine how much Dana wishes that her husband was wrapped in her arms and not a flag.
Yet she has hope, and like Job, will rejoice even in her sorrow. She can celebrate that her husband lived a life worthy of his noble death. More than that, she can celebrate that he belongs body and soul, in life and in death, to Jesus Christ, his Lord and Savior. She can honor the sacrifice of David with her tears; With those same tears, she can worship the Christ who sacrificed Himself for both of them. He is the true hero of this story.
(9)
1.1.14
The Saviors Come Not Home Tonight
I saw a picture today that I recognized, but I couldn't place the face. I started to poke through some of my emails and other information I could find and began to put the pieces together.
I started to have flashbacks. I was at the tail end of my first journey across country, up to the north. I was exhausted from visiting my soldiers and was waiting on the Air Commodore to finish his meeting with general officers from that region. While waiting, I found myself in the office of a young Air Force captain. Here is what I wrote in my blog soon after the experience:
More memories began to deluge my heart and mind. This captain was reading On Killing by Dave Grossman, a modern military classic. I was reading the WWII Liberation Trilogy and was recommending the books to him, though he self-admittedly wasn't much of reader.
Though he lived in Colorado, he was preparing to be transferred, and I suggested he try to get assigned to the DC area. He also grieved all of the time apart from his wife, who was deployed in southern Afghanistan, and was eager for them both of them to get home, for her to leave the Air Force, and to start their family.
Above all, what impressed me most about this airman was his desire to grow in knowledge and love of the Lord. That was the heart of our conversation in his office, and what carried us through dinner when we sat separate from all of the commanders to continue to talk about Christ. He was still young in the faith, but hungry, and grateful and devoted to a wife who had grown up in the faith.
Captain David Lyon, 28, was killed by a VBIED one mile from here on December 27th. He was leaving to travel back to the north after spending Christmas with his wife, Dana, who was stationed here and a regular participant in Operation Outreach and our Sunday evening chapel service.
I had no idea that the blast which shook our post several days ago took the life of a dear brother in the Lord who helped forge one of my great memories from early in this deployment. I guess that is war--when morning joys turn into sunset tragedies. He was due home in February. One of the more subtle, sad consequences of death is the reminder that memories are not permanent. So much of the substance of my interactions with David are lost because they were not so highly valued until now.
I only spent a few hours with David, but I will miss him and I will miss his dreams. He loved his wife so very much, which is why he was able to wrangle a trip down here for Christmas. Like me, many others remember David for his rare gift of making friends of strangers. Yet, the more pronounced memories of David concern his constant love and devotion for Dana. And my heart breaks for her, realizing now the caliber of the husband she lost.
Dana was due to arrive back in the States yesterday, alongside her husband's flag-draped coffin. May the Savior of her soul shepherd her through this dark and lonely valley.
"The saviors come not home tonight. Themselves they could not save." -A.E. Housman
(10)
I started to have flashbacks. I was at the tail end of my first journey across country, up to the north. I was exhausted from visiting my soldiers and was waiting on the Air Commodore to finish his meeting with general officers from that region. While waiting, I found myself in the office of a young Air Force captain. Here is what I wrote in my blog soon after the experience:
It's funny how often the enduring highlight of a given event is not what you anticipated it to be. I loved traveling across the country and the new experiences, and I loved seeing these soldiers again. But it was folks who would've otherwise remained on the periphery who came into sharp focus.
The Air Force officer who coordinated our trip told me how excited he was when he found out a chaplain was coming. He was a Mormon who converted to Christianity and was having a hard time finding a Christian fellowship at his post. We talked a lot about how he came to saving faith in Jesus Christ, and his rejection of the heresies and self-salvation of Mormonism. It is always interesting to track the thoughts/feelings of someone who has been so graciously delivered from the bondage of deceit. (Blog from 8/16)
More memories began to deluge my heart and mind. This captain was reading On Killing by Dave Grossman, a modern military classic. I was reading the WWII Liberation Trilogy and was recommending the books to him, though he self-admittedly wasn't much of reader.
Though he lived in Colorado, he was preparing to be transferred, and I suggested he try to get assigned to the DC area. He also grieved all of the time apart from his wife, who was deployed in southern Afghanistan, and was eager for them both of them to get home, for her to leave the Air Force, and to start their family.
Above all, what impressed me most about this airman was his desire to grow in knowledge and love of the Lord. That was the heart of our conversation in his office, and what carried us through dinner when we sat separate from all of the commanders to continue to talk about Christ. He was still young in the faith, but hungry, and grateful and devoted to a wife who had grown up in the faith.
Captain David Lyon, 28, was killed by a VBIED one mile from here on December 27th. He was leaving to travel back to the north after spending Christmas with his wife, Dana, who was stationed here and a regular participant in Operation Outreach and our Sunday evening chapel service.
I had no idea that the blast which shook our post several days ago took the life of a dear brother in the Lord who helped forge one of my great memories from early in this deployment. I guess that is war--when morning joys turn into sunset tragedies. He was due home in February. One of the more subtle, sad consequences of death is the reminder that memories are not permanent. So much of the substance of my interactions with David are lost because they were not so highly valued until now.
I only spent a few hours with David, but I will miss him and I will miss his dreams. He loved his wife so very much, which is why he was able to wrangle a trip down here for Christmas. Like me, many others remember David for his rare gift of making friends of strangers. Yet, the more pronounced memories of David concern his constant love and devotion for Dana. And my heart breaks for her, realizing now the caliber of the husband she lost.
Dana was due to arrive back in the States yesterday, alongside her husband's flag-draped coffin. May the Savior of her soul shepherd her through this dark and lonely valley.
"The saviors come not home tonight. Themselves they could not save." -A.E. Housman
(10)
Book Bonanza
My wife and I had many expectations for this deployment--some dealing with grim realities and others dealing with unique opportunities. We did not expect that one of our opportunities would concern quantity of reading. My wife read 36 books this year, due in part to work assignments, a desire to learn more about parenting, downtime while feeding the boy, and a general lack of sleep.
I have read about 50 books this year, due in large part to the need to unwind from long days and a lack of distractions when that downtime does come. In addition, because I providentially received a Nook as a perk to buying my laptop, I could take an array of books with me wherever I went. Every location I flew to, every line I waited in, I was always prepared. When we were mobilizing in Texas and soldiers were complaining of boredom, I was known to break out the line "That's why I have a Nook."
The most recent addition was all 4800 pages or so of the Game of Thrones series, which I read during the month of December. I will offer an inevitably insufficient review for the books soon.
While it is hard to tally an exact number of books read, here are most of the books I read this year (not including the books I started but haven't finished or ones I am currently reading; books of 800+ pages in bold):
Fiction
The Maze Runner (4 books) by James Dashner
Game of Thrones (5 books) by George R.R. Martin
Earth Afire--prequel to Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
Earth Unaware--prequel to Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
One Second After by William Forschen
Tiger's Claw by Dale Brown
World War Z by Max Brooks
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
A Time for Patriots by Dale Brown
Marine One by James W. Huston
Falcon Seven by James W. Huston
History
WWII Liberation Trilogy (3 books) by Rick Atkinson
Gettysburg by Allen Guelzo
Vietnam (History in an Hour)
The Lower River (Malawi) by Paul Thereau
Escape from Sobibor by Richard Raske
Killing Kennedy by Bill O'Reilly
No True Glory: Battle for Fallujah by Bing West
They Fought for Each Other (Iraq) by Kelly Kennedy
World War Two (History in an Hour)
The Cold War (History in an Hour)
World War One (History in an Hour)
Flight of the Eagle by Conrad Black
Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand
In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson
Biography
Adoniram Judson by John Piper
John Calvin by John Piper
Lone Survivor (Afghanistan) by Marcus Luttrell
The Warm Heart (Malawi) by Kevin Denny
Tortured for Christ by Richard Wumbrand
Faith Under Fire (Iraq) by Roger Benimoff
Martin Luther by John Piper
Portrait of Calvin by T.H.L. Parker
John Paton by John Piper
David Brainerd by John Piper
Philosophy/Politics
Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl
Constitutional Conservatism by Peter Berkowitz
Psychology/Fitness
Born to Run by Christopher McDougall
Learned Optimism by Martin Seligman
Love's Executioner by Irvin Yalom
Theology/Christian
Real Scandal of the Evangelical Mind by Carl Trueman
The Christian Life by Sinclair Ferguson
Risk is Right by John Piper
Dangerous Calling by Paul David Tripp
Vintage Jesus by Mark Driscoll
31.12.13
Victimization
You might remember a lower enlisted soldier I recently counseled who lost his cool during another soldier's promotion and was subsequently insubordinate to a number of NCOs, including a Sergeant Major (SGM). The SGM could have busted this soldier down a rank, but instead gave him a new opportunity to turn in his packet for a promotion.
You might remember that I also believe this soldier has a case of "learned helplessness"--negatively interpreting every circumstance to fit a narrative in which he is helpless. Such people will often say "This always happens to me!" or "This is just my life right now!" or "This is just who I am!" Such people are also setting themselves up for failure. It also goes hand-in-hand with the sociological trend of victimization in our culture--a trend which is morally corrosive in that it negates personal responsibility and demonizes others who could help or be helped.
Well, a few days after the SGM handed this soldier both a pardon and a renewed opportunity to advance, I asked this soldier about that gift. He basically told me that it meant nothing--it was more than likely that he would get screwed again by this unit. "That's the right attitude," I sarcastically thought to myself. Naturally, when his packet was pushed back with a handful of minor revisions to make (coincidentally enough, by the soldier whose own promotion triggered this saga), this soldier said, in essence, "F- the unit. I'm not doing that." He then was disrespectful to several NCOs.
This soldier has issued virtually every complaint one might expect to explain away his circumstances. "It's the Reserves!" "It's this jacked up unit!" "It's the NCOs, who don't take care of soldiers." "It's the whole chain of command." "They are all racists" (because he's white, most of the senior NCOs are black, and several of the recently promoted soldiers are black).
One of the many problems of learned helplessness (aside from its inevitable development into anger or depression and negative effect of physical health) is that if the problem is outside of you (see above), then you leave yourself with no opportunity for improvement. By making yourself a victim, you have eliminating any opportunity to exercise responsibility and improve. So this soldier languishes, though he is a good soldier, bright, and diligent, because his primary identity is as victim.
It is important for us not to simply condemn this modern culture of victimization. If it is indeed tied to learned helplessness, then the victims should also be pitied. A number of external factors, combined with individual depravity, turned a generation of children into perpetual children. The young person in the inner city, for example, is often taught that he is helpless against the whims of a prejudiced society and against the pull of the hood, which will inevitably make him a father without a wife and an inmate without hope of professional advancement. He is still morally culpable for the decisions he makes, but he also deserves compassion.
Instead of decrying the culture, let us work within the culture to replace self-victimization and the corresponding sense of entitlement with personal responsibility and hope. We should tell the young boy from the broken family that he could raise up a whole family, filled with hope and love. We should tell the young girl who was abused that she has dignity and worth and does not need to expect a lifetime of abuse, but can be treated with dignity and worth.
Ultimately, the ground of all of this should be the person and work of Jesus Christ, Who proclaims dignity for all mankind and imbues all life with responsibility, significance, and hope for those who know He lived the perfect life and died the atoning death necessary for their salvation.
FYI, here's a couple of brief You Tube videos engaging some of the primary critiques of Christianity. Hope you find them helpful: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8oIOkAqgPGcF4gNM33a_ZG977CPv-2Td.
(11)
You might remember that I also believe this soldier has a case of "learned helplessness"--negatively interpreting every circumstance to fit a narrative in which he is helpless. Such people will often say "This always happens to me!" or "This is just my life right now!" or "This is just who I am!" Such people are also setting themselves up for failure. It also goes hand-in-hand with the sociological trend of victimization in our culture--a trend which is morally corrosive in that it negates personal responsibility and demonizes others who could help or be helped.
Well, a few days after the SGM handed this soldier both a pardon and a renewed opportunity to advance, I asked this soldier about that gift. He basically told me that it meant nothing--it was more than likely that he would get screwed again by this unit. "That's the right attitude," I sarcastically thought to myself. Naturally, when his packet was pushed back with a handful of minor revisions to make (coincidentally enough, by the soldier whose own promotion triggered this saga), this soldier said, in essence, "F- the unit. I'm not doing that." He then was disrespectful to several NCOs.
This soldier has issued virtually every complaint one might expect to explain away his circumstances. "It's the Reserves!" "It's this jacked up unit!" "It's the NCOs, who don't take care of soldiers." "It's the whole chain of command." "They are all racists" (because he's white, most of the senior NCOs are black, and several of the recently promoted soldiers are black).
One of the many problems of learned helplessness (aside from its inevitable development into anger or depression and negative effect of physical health) is that if the problem is outside of you (see above), then you leave yourself with no opportunity for improvement. By making yourself a victim, you have eliminating any opportunity to exercise responsibility and improve. So this soldier languishes, though he is a good soldier, bright, and diligent, because his primary identity is as victim.
It is important for us not to simply condemn this modern culture of victimization. If it is indeed tied to learned helplessness, then the victims should also be pitied. A number of external factors, combined with individual depravity, turned a generation of children into perpetual children. The young person in the inner city, for example, is often taught that he is helpless against the whims of a prejudiced society and against the pull of the hood, which will inevitably make him a father without a wife and an inmate without hope of professional advancement. He is still morally culpable for the decisions he makes, but he also deserves compassion.
Instead of decrying the culture, let us work within the culture to replace self-victimization and the corresponding sense of entitlement with personal responsibility and hope. We should tell the young boy from the broken family that he could raise up a whole family, filled with hope and love. We should tell the young girl who was abused that she has dignity and worth and does not need to expect a lifetime of abuse, but can be treated with dignity and worth.
Ultimately, the ground of all of this should be the person and work of Jesus Christ, Who proclaims dignity for all mankind and imbues all life with responsibility, significance, and hope for those who know He lived the perfect life and died the atoning death necessary for their salvation.
FYI, here's a couple of brief You Tube videos engaging some of the primary critiques of Christianity. Hope you find them helpful: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8oIOkAqgPGcF4gNM33a_ZG977CPv-2Td.
(11)
29.12.13
Book/DVD Review: Vintage Jesus by Mark Driscoll
Finally, snow!
It makes the landscape seem just a little bit less like a giant dust bowl. It also likely means the cancellation of my chopper flight to go visit some of my soldiers. I wish I had a dog sled...with a turret.
This past week, our "No BS BS (Bible Study)" completed a twelve week course through Vintage Jesus, by Mark Driscoll. This book introduces basic matters of Christology (study of Christ) to the young adults of Seattle and around the country who largely comprise Driscoll's audience.
The fact that Driscoll would engage in a project like this is laudable. Aside from the length of creation days, many Christians shy away from substantial theological subjects. And the Church is still recovering from the "doctrine divides" and "just invite Jesus into your heart" movements and mantras from the last couple of decades in the twentieth century.
Driscoll, in tackling the doctrine of Christ, shows a familiarity with the present cultural trends. Most young adults want unambiguous teaching and intellectually potent and spiritually satisfying doctrinal truths. Just as I was impressed when I heard Driscoll preaching about the propitiation of God's wrath by Christ's righteousness when I was in Seattle, I am similarly impressed that he continues to defy past movements in order to feed the present flock.
In many ways, Vintage Jesus is vintage Driscoll. He immediately starts hitting hefty topics, like the deity of Christ, the humanity of Christ, the necessity of His atoning death for sinners, and the exclusivity of life through Christ alone. He sets these doctrines against the prevalent beliefs conveyed in our culture through music, media, art, etc.--demonstrating his adroit awareness of the culture around him. And he shares these truths with his characteristic wit, bluntness, and sense of humor. He is a very engaging speaker.
All of these things provided the basis for quality discussions in our small group. But there were also several weaknesses to the study that, if remedied, would make it much more helpful.
Driscoll's explanation of various doctrines and usages of certain terms was sometimes sloppy. Maybe I am simply showing the effects of the OPC's emphasis on precision, but it seems to me that you don't want to leave important ideas half-formed in the minds and hearts of your listeners. One shouldn't move on to the next topic unless the first topic is comprehensively presented. In addition, Driscoll would make unconvincing arguments for certain doctrines that didn't even need to be made. While various intellectual/verbal gimmickry can be helpful at points, the final and decisive word should come from Scripture and its declarative formula "Thus saith the Lord."
This sloppiness was also reflected in his use of terms like "religion." He would constantly contrast Christianity with "religion"--the former having to do with God's grace for sinners in Christ and the latter having to do with man's (futile) attempts to earn God's favor. While that stark contrast needs to be made between salvation in Christ and self-salvation, "religion" is not a good term to describe the latter. It might play well in postmodern culture with its suspicion of authority and truth as a means to power, but historically, "religion" has often been synonymous with Christianity. It would be more helpful to speak of true religion and false religiosity.
He also makes a strawman of fundamentalism. The term itself is quite meaningless at this point. Originally, it referred to the defense of several core biblical doctrines. It was later associated with a wooden biblical literalism, dispensational end-times theology (i.e., Left Behind), and the culture wars. By the time the century ended, it had also been tied to legalism, cultural moralism (don't dance, drink, chew or go with those who do), and anti-intellectualism. If you are a current college student and a professors asks you if you're a fundamentalist, it is inevitably a trap--like asking if you like beating your wife.
There is none of the nuance is Driscoll's treatment of fundamentalism. While his contrast between biblical Christianity and some of the flawed points of fundamentalism is somewhat helpful, his lack of nuance simply muddles the term further and tosses out all babies of fundamentalism-variously-defined with the bathwater of its excesses. One of the members of my group considers himself to be a fundamentalist in ways closer to its original sense, and resented what he considered frequent belittling and misrepresentation of a large group of believers.
Finally, while Driscoll would've benefited from more time on some of the key doctrines of Christ and His work (especially the atonement), he subsequently allowed too much time for somewhat superfluous issues (i.e., Christianity's value to Western history). To a man, our group agreed that this was the worst part of the study. First, Christ didn't come to transform culture, but to build, spread, and sustain His Church through the salvation and sanctification of sinners.
Second, while most people (excluding neo-atheists like Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris) can agree that Christianity did indirectly benefit Western culture in a number of ways (i.e., notions of morality, human dignity, human depravity, pursuit of scientific discovery, advance of arts and communication, etc.), that was not its purpose nor are most of the relationships between the two as clear-cut as Driscoll made it seem. While an apologetic in this regard may prove useful in engaging the belligerence of those who see Christianity as the cause of bloodshed, rather than its usual restraint, it is often unimportant, distracting, and certainly not convincing in the format that Driscoll provides. For most people, the more important question is whether it is true, not whether it is useful.
All in all, Driscoll in his usual fashion provides a helpful gateway for the throng of young adults who seek to peer deeper into the truth and beauty of biblical Christianity. And there is no doubt that his persona lends additional credibility and appeal to his message. But all of this is still hamstrung by a general sense of sloppiness. While the pastor's life will in many ways be just as sloppy as the rest of God's people, he is called to be intellectual rigorous, lighting straight paths before the sheep, enabling them to behold the clarity of God's truth and understand with charity the views of others. May God equip His under-shepherds, including me, to do just that.
(12)
It makes the landscape seem just a little bit less like a giant dust bowl. It also likely means the cancellation of my chopper flight to go visit some of my soldiers. I wish I had a dog sled...with a turret.
This past week, our "No BS BS (Bible Study)" completed a twelve week course through Vintage Jesus, by Mark Driscoll. This book introduces basic matters of Christology (study of Christ) to the young adults of Seattle and around the country who largely comprise Driscoll's audience.
The fact that Driscoll would engage in a project like this is laudable. Aside from the length of creation days, many Christians shy away from substantial theological subjects. And the Church is still recovering from the "doctrine divides" and "just invite Jesus into your heart" movements and mantras from the last couple of decades in the twentieth century.
Driscoll, in tackling the doctrine of Christ, shows a familiarity with the present cultural trends. Most young adults want unambiguous teaching and intellectually potent and spiritually satisfying doctrinal truths. Just as I was impressed when I heard Driscoll preaching about the propitiation of God's wrath by Christ's righteousness when I was in Seattle, I am similarly impressed that he continues to defy past movements in order to feed the present flock.
In many ways, Vintage Jesus is vintage Driscoll. He immediately starts hitting hefty topics, like the deity of Christ, the humanity of Christ, the necessity of His atoning death for sinners, and the exclusivity of life through Christ alone. He sets these doctrines against the prevalent beliefs conveyed in our culture through music, media, art, etc.--demonstrating his adroit awareness of the culture around him. And he shares these truths with his characteristic wit, bluntness, and sense of humor. He is a very engaging speaker.
All of these things provided the basis for quality discussions in our small group. But there were also several weaknesses to the study that, if remedied, would make it much more helpful.
Driscoll's explanation of various doctrines and usages of certain terms was sometimes sloppy. Maybe I am simply showing the effects of the OPC's emphasis on precision, but it seems to me that you don't want to leave important ideas half-formed in the minds and hearts of your listeners. One shouldn't move on to the next topic unless the first topic is comprehensively presented. In addition, Driscoll would make unconvincing arguments for certain doctrines that didn't even need to be made. While various intellectual/verbal gimmickry can be helpful at points, the final and decisive word should come from Scripture and its declarative formula "Thus saith the Lord."
This sloppiness was also reflected in his use of terms like "religion." He would constantly contrast Christianity with "religion"--the former having to do with God's grace for sinners in Christ and the latter having to do with man's (futile) attempts to earn God's favor. While that stark contrast needs to be made between salvation in Christ and self-salvation, "religion" is not a good term to describe the latter. It might play well in postmodern culture with its suspicion of authority and truth as a means to power, but historically, "religion" has often been synonymous with Christianity. It would be more helpful to speak of true religion and false religiosity.
He also makes a strawman of fundamentalism. The term itself is quite meaningless at this point. Originally, it referred to the defense of several core biblical doctrines. It was later associated with a wooden biblical literalism, dispensational end-times theology (i.e., Left Behind), and the culture wars. By the time the century ended, it had also been tied to legalism, cultural moralism (don't dance, drink, chew or go with those who do), and anti-intellectualism. If you are a current college student and a professors asks you if you're a fundamentalist, it is inevitably a trap--like asking if you like beating your wife.
There is none of the nuance is Driscoll's treatment of fundamentalism. While his contrast between biblical Christianity and some of the flawed points of fundamentalism is somewhat helpful, his lack of nuance simply muddles the term further and tosses out all babies of fundamentalism-variously-defined with the bathwater of its excesses. One of the members of my group considers himself to be a fundamentalist in ways closer to its original sense, and resented what he considered frequent belittling and misrepresentation of a large group of believers.
Finally, while Driscoll would've benefited from more time on some of the key doctrines of Christ and His work (especially the atonement), he subsequently allowed too much time for somewhat superfluous issues (i.e., Christianity's value to Western history). To a man, our group agreed that this was the worst part of the study. First, Christ didn't come to transform culture, but to build, spread, and sustain His Church through the salvation and sanctification of sinners.
Second, while most people (excluding neo-atheists like Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris) can agree that Christianity did indirectly benefit Western culture in a number of ways (i.e., notions of morality, human dignity, human depravity, pursuit of scientific discovery, advance of arts and communication, etc.), that was not its purpose nor are most of the relationships between the two as clear-cut as Driscoll made it seem. While an apologetic in this regard may prove useful in engaging the belligerence of those who see Christianity as the cause of bloodshed, rather than its usual restraint, it is often unimportant, distracting, and certainly not convincing in the format that Driscoll provides. For most people, the more important question is whether it is true, not whether it is useful.
All in all, Driscoll in his usual fashion provides a helpful gateway for the throng of young adults who seek to peer deeper into the truth and beauty of biblical Christianity. And there is no doubt that his persona lends additional credibility and appeal to his message. But all of this is still hamstrung by a general sense of sloppiness. While the pastor's life will in many ways be just as sloppy as the rest of God's people, he is called to be intellectual rigorous, lighting straight paths before the sheep, enabling them to behold the clarity of God's truth and understand with charity the views of others. May God equip His under-shepherds, including me, to do just that.
(12)
Random Tidbits
Always worth the read. Camille Paglia is a first-generation feminist, lesbian, and libertarian who is incredibly intelligent, witty, and eloquent. Some of her ruminations regarding men and society were recently put forth in a Wall Street Journal interview, along with an intriguing insight regarding the military: http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702303997604579240022857012920.
The slow wrap-up. I conducted my last "No BS BS (Bible Study)" last week. Today, I will be participating in Operation Outreach for the final time. Bit by bit, various parts of this deployment are coming to a close. This reality hit me hard a little while ago when I shredded a bunch of my papers, including the print-outs of my little boy that I kept on the wall. My heart stopped for a moment when I put those pictures through the shredder. I hadn't even realized that those print-outs were part of my emotional survival and were, in a sense, what I knew of my little boy. The pain of pushing through the shredder will give way to the joy of holding him. The papers were but types and shadows of the greater reality to come.
Couch critics. One of the participants in most all of my services and studies out here is a retired soldier-turned-contractor who has gone to seminary and done some mission work in the Middle East. He also has a permanent look of skepticism etched on his face for every service and study and is eager to expose the tiniest of inconsistencies or misspoken words that he notices. Some other chaplains say they quickly lose patience with such a man, as I am oft-tempted to do. But with that frequent temptation comes accompanying conviction that there is a member like that in every church, and I am called to feed the sheep, not some sheep, and I am also always in need of sanctification and such couch critics are poignant agents of that gracious work of God. May I be taught greater humility and be encouraged to be more knowledgeable and gracious, by God's grace.
The continuing aftermath. I continue to meet with the soldier who lost his friend in the VBIED attack two day ago, both morning and evening. I am encouraged by this soldier's introspection and honesty in examining and articulating what he is thinking and feeling. I noticed yesterday afternoon that this soldier was much more composed than he was in the morning, but when he mentioned his friend's wife, he began to tear up before moving on. I stopped him at one point and made this observation and asked him "Does it hurt the most when you think of (this friend's) wife, or perhaps what it would be like for your wife if it was you?" He choked out "Both" and started to sob.
I understand. Most soldiers, myself included, don't fear death in and of itself. We fear that we might fail our country by not acting when we should, or failing our families because we do act when we should. And we tell our wives a million statistic meant to comfort them, but statistics do nothing with regard to God's providence. The soldier I am counseling goes out on convoy missions with his team 4-5 times a week along the same route where the attack occurred. The soldier who was killed was only down here for a couple of days to visit his wife. The reality is that the worst couple happen to anyone, and after all the various planning and safety checks, it all comes down to God's providence. He gives life. He takes it. May His name be praised.
My soldier mentioned that on the bright side, this wife is able to accompany the body of her husband home. They are on their way to Dover now. I don't know whether that gives me solace or makes me want to weep.
(13)
The slow wrap-up. I conducted my last "No BS BS (Bible Study)" last week. Today, I will be participating in Operation Outreach for the final time. Bit by bit, various parts of this deployment are coming to a close. This reality hit me hard a little while ago when I shredded a bunch of my papers, including the print-outs of my little boy that I kept on the wall. My heart stopped for a moment when I put those pictures through the shredder. I hadn't even realized that those print-outs were part of my emotional survival and were, in a sense, what I knew of my little boy. The pain of pushing through the shredder will give way to the joy of holding him. The papers were but types and shadows of the greater reality to come.
Couch critics. One of the participants in most all of my services and studies out here is a retired soldier-turned-contractor who has gone to seminary and done some mission work in the Middle East. He also has a permanent look of skepticism etched on his face for every service and study and is eager to expose the tiniest of inconsistencies or misspoken words that he notices. Some other chaplains say they quickly lose patience with such a man, as I am oft-tempted to do. But with that frequent temptation comes accompanying conviction that there is a member like that in every church, and I am called to feed the sheep, not some sheep, and I am also always in need of sanctification and such couch critics are poignant agents of that gracious work of God. May I be taught greater humility and be encouraged to be more knowledgeable and gracious, by God's grace.
The continuing aftermath. I continue to meet with the soldier who lost his friend in the VBIED attack two day ago, both morning and evening. I am encouraged by this soldier's introspection and honesty in examining and articulating what he is thinking and feeling. I noticed yesterday afternoon that this soldier was much more composed than he was in the morning, but when he mentioned his friend's wife, he began to tear up before moving on. I stopped him at one point and made this observation and asked him "Does it hurt the most when you think of (this friend's) wife, or perhaps what it would be like for your wife if it was you?" He choked out "Both" and started to sob.
I understand. Most soldiers, myself included, don't fear death in and of itself. We fear that we might fail our country by not acting when we should, or failing our families because we do act when we should. And we tell our wives a million statistic meant to comfort them, but statistics do nothing with regard to God's providence. The soldier I am counseling goes out on convoy missions with his team 4-5 times a week along the same route where the attack occurred. The soldier who was killed was only down here for a couple of days to visit his wife. The reality is that the worst couple happen to anyone, and after all the various planning and safety checks, it all comes down to God's providence. He gives life. He takes it. May His name be praised.
My soldier mentioned that on the bright side, this wife is able to accompany the body of her husband home. They are on their way to Dover now. I don't know whether that gives me solace or makes me want to weep.
(13)
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