Posted by Chris on Nov 25, 2011 in
God,
Life 
Isolation is a term coined by the late Fuller Professor Robert Clinton. It refers to an experience where a leader is removed from a number of things, such as their position of leadership, a sense of God’s presence, a knowledge of calling or direction. Isolation can be chosen, like taking a sabbatical or returning to seminary. It can also be forced on you, like a health problem, imprisonment or getting fired. It can last for weeks, or for years.
My major Isolation experience began when my position on a staff at a megachurch in San Antonio ended. I was out of work for over six months. I was unable to find a suitable ministry position, and eventually ended up in retail. I went from having a place of positional leadership and what seemed like a career track to being alone, with no sense of direction and very little hope.
In studying Isolation as part of the MAGL, I read something from Dr. Clinton that basically went like this:
“Don’t try to be finished with your Isolation until you’ve gotten everything out of it that God wants you to get out of it.”
This floored me, because for two years, I’ve been trying to be getting out Isolation. Unable to find direction, I tried to dive further into spiritual practices. When I felt adrift in depression, I sought to distract myself, and eventually got into counseling to “fix it.” I’ve had to learn what it is to do ministry when it’s not my job. Worst of all, my sense of failure and lack of direction left me unable to even answer the question “what do you want to do?”
But this comment about “getting everything out of Isolation” forced me to reevaluate why I was in such a hurry. If the perfect opportunity fell in my lap tomorrow, would I know what to do with it? Am I mature enough to keep from repeating the mistakes I’ve made in the past? Am I even the kind of person who should be trusted with leadership?
For the first time in almost three years, I am beginning to sense some “movement.” It may be that some new opportunities are on the horizon. But what’s the rush? Maybe I still have something to learn from Isolation.
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Tags: 7 Things I'm Thankful For, depression, God, leadership, MAGL
Posted by Chris on Nov 24, 2011 in
Church,
Culture,
God,
Life 
Every once and awhile I hear people complaining about the lousy christian music that they were force fed when they were kids. I smile and nod, but honestly I don’t really have any idea what they were talking about. The tribe of churches I came from were skeptical of anything from other tribes, so we shunned the books, movies and music that was being peddled by evangelicalism. We had our way of doing things, and much of our energy was spent justifying ourselves…to ourselves. In other words, we were an echo chamber.
The danger of an echo chamber is that the only voice you hear is your own. The inevitability of the political echo chamber began with cable TV and exploded with the internet. Now, you can completely cater your media experience to consist only of things that you already agree with. You’ve met people who only listen to radio, read blogs, and communicate with others who share their politics. Some days, all I want is to hear a few jokes from John Stewart, a story from Ira Glass and an episode of Doctor Who. The internet makes this customization not only possible, but normal.
I find this sad. I’m a full believer in a classic “liberal arts” education. I believe that, even if I don’t like it, having an understanding of algebra, art history and biology will make us better human beings. It breaks my heart to meet someone who doesn’t know what Tale of Two Cities or a quadratic equation is.
When it comes to theology, an echo chamber isn’t just sad, it’s dangerous. A key tennant of the Christian faith, which the western church struggles to articulate, is that everything we believe is rooted in mystery. We believe in a God-Man and a wind-like Spirit and a living lifestyle rooted in a future we have yet to see. Everything we do is rooted in mystery. This is not to say that there are not key, identifiable marks of orthodoxy. But the fact is there’s a lot we can’t know, and a lot of room to disagree.
Theological echo chambers allow you to create systematic theologies and take them to logical yet dangerous theological and practical extremes. This creates Reformers more calvinistic than Calvin, Wesleyans who become universalists and Anabaptist that withdraw to farms where no one can bother them. Practically, this creates religious arrogance. The tradition I come from (like many) is often mocked for assuming everyone else is going to hell. There might be some truth to that.
I believe in humbly seeking to hear from a multiplicity of voices. This means more than being open to hearing the arguments of the people that you disagree with. It means finding approaching life with a learning posture, assuming that even those that there are thing you can respect and emulate in everyone. And while you may come away believing what you always have, you’ll know better than ever why you believe it.
Here’s how I practice this: I attend seminary with people who have some elements of theology I disagree with. I work with a parachurch organization that trains leaders from a diversity of denominations. I listen to podcasts from Tim Keller (reformed/presbyterian) and Bruxy Cavey (anabaptist/wesleyan), Catalyst (seeker sensitive/event driven) and Iconocast (Christian anarchist). Don’t get me wrong, I have my favorites and I definitely have my opinions. But I’m better off because I learn to love and respect others.
Have you broken out of the echo chamber? Why or Why not?
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Tags: 7 Things I'm Thankful For, God, theology
Posted by Chris on Oct 5, 2011 in
God,
Life 
If you could only read one love story, you should read A Severe Mercy. The book is the journey of Sheldon and Davy Vanauken, through romance, courtship, marriage, infidelity, agnosticism, faith, and eventually death. The book is best known for containing the author’s correspondance with C.S. Lewis on issues of faith and death.
The book begins with the couple’s meeting and romance in an ivy league college. They define themselves as “high pagans,” seeking after the higher virtues of classical culture. They believed that they could keep the “in love” feeling that couples experience early on when they share everything. They share the details of their days, passionately explore the other’s interests, and even sail around the world together. The uniqueness of their romance inspires Lewis’s words, and the title “A Severe Mercy.”
Unfortunately, Jesus messes this up. As honest agnostics and intellectuals, they decide that someday they must look into the claims of Christianity. When they move to Oxford they encounter intellectuals who also follow Christ, and they begin their investigation. This result is a correspondance and friendship with C.S. Lewis, who helps personalize much that he his books discuss. They both experience conversion, but their endless romance is never the same. Vanauken candidly explains the strains this new faith took on their marriage, and how it took death to rebuild their relationship.
Much of the book grapples the illness and death of Davy, and how their new faith was affected. Fascinatingly, the correspondence includes letters both before and after Lewis’s own experience with burying a wife.
It’s hard to capture in a blog post the beautiful, thought provoking and heart wrenching nature of this book. It presents a picture of how faith can be intellectual, how romance can be meaningful, and how death can be accepted. It is the story of a life well lived, and a love worth emulating.
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Tags: books, C.S. Lewis, Faith, Girls, if you could only read one book, love, Relationships, romance
Posted by Chris on Sep 19, 2011 in
God,
Life I have always read a lot of books. I love having books around and talking about books. I think that bookshelves are the best way to decorate a house. So the idea of digital books didn’t used to be too appealing to me. However, during my trip to Fuller, I was embarrassed to see so many people carrying iPads and Kindles, while I had a second suitcase full of books. This was compounded by a 200 page , two column PDF that I had to read on my Macbook. Partially joking and partially exasperated I tweeted:
This has been a tough summer. In many ways, I feel like God has put me on hold. I’ve been waiting a long time for a lot of things, trying to be faithful with what I do have. But living in between is tough, and it’s worn me down.
The question that comes to mind is “why isn’t God working in my life?” I hear stories of God providing in emergencies, providing opportunities for vocation, or providing little things. It would be a lie to say that God has never worked in my life this way, but it feels like it’s been a long time.
Last Sunday I was handed a box that had been shipped to an old residence. I wasn’t expecting anything, much less the 1/2 lb. e-ink masterpiece I had been pining for. Shocked, I raced home and dug through my receipts just to make sure I had not accidentally bought it. Nothing. I tore apart the box for a shipping form, and saw my address and a short line that said:
#alwaysask
I’ve spent the last week attached to the little gizmo. A co-worker saw me smiling and said: “You look like you’ve got a new girlfriend.” I’ve devoured two books already.
It hasn’t fixed any of the problems that have got me down. But it is a reminder that God is out there, he listens, and other people do, too. I may have some complaints, but I have a good life. While I may still be on hold with God, I feel like he’s letting me know that he hasn’t gone anywhere. He cares. He wants to take care of me. Maybe he’s just waiting for me to let him.
#alwaysask
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Tags: books, depression, God, MAGL, prayer
Posted by Chris on Sep 14, 2011 in
Church,
God,
Life This past Sunday at Vox Veniae, Gideon Tsang shared about where we get our name, Voice of Grace. He talked about how Grace means to receive something you don’t deserve.
Sunday afternoon I was handed a box containing a small electonic device that had been shipped to me. It was a gift, from a person or group of people I may not ever fully identify. I had jokingly asked for it on Twitter, and here it was. Immediately, I felt an immense weight on me, something had been given which I would never be able to repay.
The feeling is reminscent of guilt. You know something is wrong, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Unlike guilt, there is no shame. You don’t feel bad, but you could easily begin to weep about it. It’s like the beauty of an overwhelming sunset or watching a baby laugh. It is amazing, but very, very heavy.
It seems to me that Gideon’s point is that the church is to live with the weight of grace constantly on us. We didn’t ask for birth or breath. We didn’t ask to be affluent Americans. We didn’t ask for Jesus.
This, to me, is the great apolegetic. Religion and science can constantly strive to explain where we came from and how stuff works. But they don’t explain why any of it is here in in the first place.
Life is, at it’s core, undeniably undeserved.
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Tags: grace
Isolation is a term coined by the late Fuller Professor Robert Clinton. It refers to an experience where a leader is removed from a number of things, such as their position of leadership, a sense of God’s presence, a knowledge of calling or direction. Isolation can be chosen, like taking a sabbatical or returning to seminary. It can also be forced on you, like a health problem, imprisonment or getting fired. It can last for weeks, or for years.
