Tod Bolsinger

The Bono Effect

I'll be getting back to my new series of posts on "Christianity as a Practical Romance" soon, but today I want to offer another snippet from Tim Stafford's excellent article, "The Church: Why Bother" in the most recent Christianity Today.

In February 2003, Christianity Today featured Bono, lead singer for the rock group U2, and his campaign for the church to become more involved in the fight against AIDS. Bono emerged as a star example of the unchurched Christian.

Having once been involved in a loosely structured Irish fellowship, Bono now seldom goes to church. He does pray. He likes to say grace at meals. He has a favorite Bible translation. But he doesn't want to be pinned down.

"I just go where the life is, you know? Where I feel the Holy Spirit," Bono told Christianity Today's reporter, Cathleen Falsani. "If it's in the back of a Roman Catholic cathedral, in the quietness and the incense, which suggest the mystery of God, of God's presence, or in the bright lights of the revival tent, I just go where I find life. I don't see denomination. I generally think religion gets in the way of God."

In an editorial, "Bono's Thin Ecclesiology," CT appreciated Bono's thirst for social justice, yet criticized his lack of churchly commitment. Bono had voiced sharp criticisms of the church, suggesting it was in danger of irrelevance if it failed to act on AIDS. Wrote CT, "Any person can stand outside the church and critique its obedience to the gospel. Part of God's call on a Christian's life is to walk inside and die to self by relating to other human beings, both in their fallenness and in their redeemed glory."

Letters to the editor fiercely defended Bono. One pointed out that U2 travels with a chaplain—isn't that equivalent to church? Another suggested that Bono avoided church out of respect for other Christians, since his fame would disrupt worship. A reader complained that white evangelical churches were to blame for Bono's alienation, since they have become more Republican than Christian. Another reader whose lifelong illness kept her from church wrote, "I do not believe not attending a regular church service … takes away a person's beliefs, Christianity, or their salvation … . I have faith that Jesus Christ is more fair than that."

All good points, as far as they go, except that Bono is not too sick to attend church, could find an unpoliticized church if he tried, and doesn't mention respect for worshipers as a reason for staying away.

Clearly, Bono has chosen to keep his distance from the church, or at least to stay in the shallow margins of the pond, where he can dash for the shore at need.

He has plenty of company.

In my book, It Takes a Church to Raise a Christian: How the Community of God Transforms Lives, I cite some (favorite) Bono lyrics about spiritual searching (U2 is one of my favorite bands).  In many ways, he represents exactly the kind of Christian that many of us evangelicals actually endeavor to be: socially aware, compassionate to the downtrodden and outsider, prayerful and passionate, incredibly cool and deeply individualistic in faith.  When I read characters like the hero Neo, in Brian McClaren's (excellent!) novels, I can't help but see some of the similarities. 

Is this ultimately what it means to be "emergent"?  Does it mean that we are going to "emerge" from the church and create a faith of our own making, with the people of our own choosing, in the manner and time of our own doing? 

I am incredibly sympathetic to the Bonos and Neos of the world, indeed, my book was a challenge to make the church the kind of place that seekers need it to be--a representation of God in the world.  But if I read the New Testament correctly, we bother with the church because it is the ONLY body of Christ in the world--disappointments and all.

So, then what do we do to make the church more Bono-Neo friendly?  Hmmm...

The Church: Why Bother?

The Barna Research Group reports that in the United States about 10 million self-proclaimed, born-again Christians have not been to church in the last six months, apart from Christmas or Easter...Nearly all born-agains say their spiritual life is very important, but for 10 million of them, spiritual life has nothing to do with church.

This excerpt is from the opening paragraph of Tim Stafford's article in Christianity Today.  It is good piece of journalism that demonstrates both Tim's keen theological mind and sensitivity to the struggles of ordinary folks.  I recommend it.  (Oh yeah, he also quotes me in it.)

The (not so old) Man and the Sea

NT Wright's Christmas reflections on the Tsunami and God's saving activity in the world, is a most proper way to end these Christmas musings on this Epiphany.

I strongly suggest the whole article.  But here is a snippet...

The general view is that the Bible offers an escape from the world into a personal religion. But that view is itself the result of the Enlightenment's reductionism.

The Bible itself resists such treatment. It constantly acknowledges evil - "human" and "natural" alike - as a terrible reality. It doesn't try to minimise it, to explain that good will come of it, or to blame someone (reactions which correspond uncomfortably closely to the excuses offered by immoral or warmongering politicians). It tells a story about the Creator's plan to put the world to rights, a plan which involves a people who are themselves part of the problem as well as the bearers of the solution.

The Magi and A Practical Romance

In the introduction to his book, Orthodoxy, G. K. Chesterton tells of a British yachtsman who sets out from England to sail across the sea and discover a new world.  However, through some unknown navigational error, he sails in a circle until he lands, “armed to the teeth and talking by signs,” to plant the British flag…in Britain.  Chesterton says, that though the man would admit looking the fool, he would actually have committed an honest and enviable mistake that resulted in what he would consider the best of all situations.

Asks Chesterton, “What could be more delightful than to have in the same few minutes all the fascinating terrors of going abroad combined with all the human security of coming home again?”  He then goes on to say that this is the struggle of philosophy or theology, or I would add the spiritual life in general.  “How can we contrive to be at once astonished at the world and yet at home in it?” 

This “romantic adventure” as Chesterton calls is the at the heart of the western ideal of life.  We want a “practical romance; the combination of something that is strange with something that is secure. We need to view the world as to combine an idea of wonder and an idea of welcome.” 

Wonder and welcome, strangeness and security, going abroad and being at home.  This double-need, says Chesterton is exactly what a Christian spiritual journey provides.  We travel far and wide through many “dangers, toils and snares,” only to arrive back at our Maker’s side, our spiritual home.  We seek to discover a new unspoiled pool in a jungle, only to find that is the Garden of Eden we left so long ago. 

Over the next few posts I will take up the idea of Christianity as a “practical romance” as a way of looking at spiritual seeking, “emergent” movements of Christian faith, and the kind of homecoming that the church needs to provide each person who shows up “armed to the teeth and talking by signs.”

On this Epiphany day, the last day of Christmas, the day we celebrate the first spiritual seekers, let us acknowledge that Christianity is meant to be a slightly foolish adventure.  It is meant to be and remains a journey of discovery but ultimately it is not about anything new, unique or original.  Ultimately we are on the right path if we live in with both the foolishness and relief of “rediscovering our true home.” 

What Made the Magi Move?

Taking the time to linger this Christmas has meant that I have spent a bit more time musing on Christmas themes than I usually do.  Sure, I start a new sermon series this weekend (on the “Song of Songs,” no less).  And the kids are back in school and there is plenty to do to start the new year.  But this Christmas lingering has offered me an opportunity to pray and ponder some biblical stories that usually get left in the word processor when I have to cut to the chase and give a sermon.

Like this--

So, why would a group of—assumedly—wealthy, intelligent philosophers (they had the means to travel great distances and undertake a great journey) leave home for years to see some kid?   While some have thought the Magi a legend (or a poetic midrash of an earlier biblical story—see the Queen of Sheba’s visit to Solomon in 1 Kings 10) more scholars today point to the well-documented interest by Persian astrologers of the day in looking for celestial signs that a new king was to be born who would usher in a new age.  The Bible and most scholarship says that they were astrologers who had seen a celestial phenomenon, took it as a sign and headed off.

Of course, if one were looking for a star that symbolized something great had occurred in the world and then actually saw it, it would be hard not to turn the intellectual journey into a physical one.  But, that only leads further back to another question:  Why were they looking for the star?  What were they looking when they gazed at the night sky?  What difference did they expect the King to make?

Of course, the only honest answer is: We have no blooming idea.  We really don’t know. But we can guess.  And this is my guess:  They were looking for something bigger than themselves.  Riches, power, fame, could be.  But they didn’t stay around long to capitalize on their “discovery.”  Something great, grand and lasting, maybe.  A king who would right some wrong, even more likely. 

Again, only conjecture here, but this is what I think.  Rich, smart folks usually are pretty confident in themselves because they are rich or smart.  But sooner or later they find out that they can’t possibly be rich enough or smart enough to live well.  (In many ways, poor and simple folks learn this lesson easier, faster and better.  Which is what Jesus implied at least a few times.)  That is if they are smarter than they are rich. 

Wealth can lead people to think that since they can get most of what they want, they need nothing else beyond what they can get.  But smarts always fail. (Even that dude who won on Jeopardy for like a year, eventually lost.)  And that moment is always a good one.  A moment of holiness and sanity. A great moment when we lose confidence in ourselves and gain what we really need.

G. K. Chesterton said “Complete self-confidence is not merely a sin; complete self-confidence is a weakness. Believing utterly in one’s self is a hysterical and superstitious belief…” (Orthodoxy, p.14)

Maybe the Magi took off because they finally lost an argument with their wives, or they were befuddled by what to do with a rebellious teenager, they lost faith in some current king, or maybe, they just looked in the sky and realized that no matter how smart they were, they couldn’t fathom that star.  In that moment they lost confidence in themselves and realized that what they really wanted was something bigger than themselves to look at, to worship, to offer gifts.

So they went searching…

Tomorrow: The Magi and Chesterton’s Practical Romance.

Painful Awareness

In my recent post, "Light and Life to all He brings," I offered some reflections about the brokenness of our world and our response, here is another take on the same themes. (Couldn't have said this one better myself--HT: Mark D. Roberts)

I don’t think there’s anyone around these days who would deny the brokenness of our world or turn a deaf ear to the cries of those who are suffering as a result of the tsunami. But, let’s face it, most people in North America live most of the time with relatively little awareness of human suffering throughout the world. For example, the death toll from the tsunami is currently at 150,000, and may very well become much, much higher. This is a tragedy of astounding proportions. But how many of us are aware that every year in the developing world about six million children die from hunger-related causes. This means that even if there had been no earthquake in the Indian Ocean, with all of its dire results, approximately 120,000 children would have died in the week that began with Christmas and ended with New Years Day – under ordinary conditions. Yet most of us would have lived with almost no awareness of this tragic reality.

Though the impact of the tsunami has been horrible indeed, perhaps it will open our eyes to the brokenness of the world and the anguish caused by this brokenness. Maybe this will motivate us, not only to respond with short term generosity to the immediate need around the Indian Ocean, but also to act with a consistent commitment to alleviate human suffering.

Don't "Just do it"

In the wake of the Tsunami disaster, it is good and right that we consider again how we who take the name of Christ minister the grace of Christ.  There is a time and place for diving in with both feet, for taking on whatever task is in front of us, for caring for whatever need. We continue to appropriately laud firefighters who storm headlong into buildings, rescue workers who dive into raging waters, trained military who answer the call.  And we think that that may be the only way to genuinely respond to a time of need. Many of us have a voice in our heads screaming at us, "Don't just stand there, do something." Of in the words of the Air-(waves)-god Nike, "Just do it." 

But the truth is that most of us need to beware too hasty action, too often.  Most of us are not "frontlines" of a need whether with a friend or in the world, but are part of the long unnoticed cadre of those who will offer the long-term care. 

But we who care about caring for others can lose more than ourselves in our doing, we can lose the ability to give ourselves away for the necessary long haul, for a world of pain and need beyond the headlines.  Because when the rescue workers go home, when the funeral flowers fade, when the get well-visits get missed in the third round of chemo, some of us will still be called to be there. 

But without the adrenaline and attention, the grind of a caring marathon takes its toll.  Soon, we find ourselves pulling away from the needs of people. We click off the television news, we let the answering machine pick up the phone call from a friend, we retreat from the needs of the world stressed out, burned out, bummed out.

What should be our response to genuine need and the genuine call of Christ? 

Let me suggest that the first step should be of stillness, even solitude.  "Don't just do something, stand there."  Stand in the middle of pain and need and pause.  Pause to listen and pause to feel.  Pause to pray and take stock of yourself and your resources.  Pause to consider what a genuine response and not reflexive reaction should be.  Don't "Just do it." Instead, Do what really needs to be done.  Do what you really need to do.

The need is not the call.  But God's call will meet every need.

Charles Ringma has written a good devotional (see my book bag) based on the thoughts of Henri Nouwen.  He offers us these thoughts for our doing (and not doing):

In our much doing, we lose perspective, lose our energy, and more importantly, lose our creativity and sense of humor.  We thus begin to carry the world on our shoulders and soon become overwhelmed or disillusioned.  But to simply withdraw does not provide the way forward, for we then take our hurt or tired self with us.  Rather the movement to solitude is to find a renewed self, and from the center of being loved and nourished we can again enter our world with purposeful engagement and joyful detachment.

Purposeful engagement and joyful detachment.  That seems to me like "doing it" right.

What a Way to Start the Day

My friend Rob Asghar offered this post that I want to add to my Christmas Lingering series and personal reflections...

The single biggest mistake in my life – and in every seeker’s life – is not beginning every new day by preparing for a day of joy and persecution.  Imagine what would happen if your first thought getting out of bed wasn’t “Lord, bless me today” or even “Lord, let me benefit others.”  Rather, imagine what would happen if your first request was, “Lord, give me an infinite portion of your Spirit of Grace today so that I can go out there and care deeply for a world that will bite and bite hard.” 

When I’ve been mindful to pray that prayer, my small body and soul have been bigger than anything that has stood in my way.  My capacity for pain has been tremendous, and my strength has been remarkable.  But when I neglect to pray that prayer – or when I choose not to – I’m only a leaf in the wind, blown about by forces far more powerful than I.

Thomas Merton noted that we must expect friction and pain every day of our lives, because of the evil in others and the evil in ourselves.  Fools ignore the pain or hide from the pain or hit back with double force, but a follower of Christ acts quite counterintutively.  Dallas Willard defined a believer as “someone who, when you hit them, Jesus comes out.” 

Thanks Rob.

Charity vs. Fate: WSJ article

A friend of mine sent me a copy of a December 31, 2004, WSJ article written by an Eastern Orthodox Theologian named David B. Hart (the author of The Beauty of the Infinite).  Here's an excerpt:

When confronted by the sheer savage immensity of worldly suffering--when we see the entire littoral rim of the Indian Ocean strewn with tens of thousands of corpses, a third of them children's--no Christian is licensed to utter odious banalities about God's inscrutable counsels or blasphemous suggestions that all this mysteriously serves God's good ends. We are permitted only to hate death and waste and the imbecile forces of chance that shatter living souls, to believe that creation is in agony in its bonds, to see this world as divided between two kingdoms--knowing all the while that it is only charity that can sustain us against "fate," and that must do so until the end of days.

Epiphany and the Tsunami

For yet another, Epiphany and the Tsunami reflection, please check out Mark Daniels' sermon yesterday which is posted on his site.