Filed under: Art, My Soundtrack, Other Links | Tags: Derek Webb, Stockholm Syndrome, What Matters More
You say you always treat people like you like to be
I guess you love being hated for your sexuality
You love when people put words in your mouth
‘Bout what you believe, make you sound like a freak
‘Cause if you really believe what you say you believe
You wouldn’t be so damn reckless with the words you speak
Wouldn’t silently conceal when the liars speak
Denyin’ all the dyin’ of the remedy
Tell me, brother, what matters more to you?
Tell me, sister, what matters more to you?
If I can tell what’s in your heart by what comes out of your mouth
Then it sure looks to me like being straight is all it’s about
It looks like being hated for all the wrong things
Like chasin’ the wind while the pendulum swings
‘Cause we can talk and debate until we’re blue in the face
About the language and tradition that he’s comin’ to save
Meanwhile we sit just like we don’t give a shit
About 50,000 people who are dyin’ today
Tell me, brother, what matters more to you?
Tell me, sister, what matters more to you?
Filed under: Art, Emergent Church, Emerging Church, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: Rob Bell, Peter Rollins, Shane Hipps, Poets Prophets Preachers, Grand Rapids, Novus Lumen, Sermon, Adam Moore
Check out Novus Lumen for a live blogging feed from the Poets.Prophets.Preachers conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan featuring Rob Bell, Shane Hipps, and Peter Rollins
Visit Adam Moore’s blog for updates throughout the conference.
Also, many are tweeting the event here.
Filed under: Art, Emerging Church, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: Jonny Baker, Marshall McLuhan
you are the message | jonny baker
Reminds me of the famous quote from Marshall McLuhan, “The medium is the message”
Filed under: Booknotes, Theology | Tags: Body Soul and Human Life, Joel B. Green, Neuroscience, Theology
… although our genes bias our dispositions and character, the neuronal systems and pathways responsible for much of what we think, feel, believe, and do are shaped by learning. Simply put, in our first two years (and beyond), far more synapses are generated than are needed. Those neural connections that are used are maintained and remodeled, while those that fall into disuse are eliminated. And fresh connections are generated in response to our experiences, even into adulthood, until the very moment of death. The longstanding nature-nurture argument (Are we products of our genes or of our upbringing?) proves to be wrongheaded, since nature and nurture are both necessary and both end up having the same effect – namely, sculpting the brain in ways that form and reform the developing self.
This means that, to speak of “conversion” or, more basically, of “religious or moral formation,” is always to speak of persons and not parts of persons. Transformation of “my inner person” can be nothing more or less than transformation of “me,” understood wholistically. For our purposes, this “learning” is particularly focused on the practices that shape our lives and on interpersonal experiences, which directly shape the ongoing development of the brain’s structure and function. If the neurobiological systems that shape how we think, feel, believe, and behave are forever being sculpted in the context of our social experiences, then in a profound sense we must speak of personal (trans)formation in relational terms. Our autobiographical selves are formed within a nest of relationships, a community. The ecclesial context of “conversion” could scarcely be more sharply emphasized.
Filed under: Art, Good Times, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: Coffee, Culture, Long Beach, Portfolio Coffeehouse, Sipology, The Library coffee shop, Viento Y Agua
I have spent a considerable amount of time in quite a few different coffee shops here in Long Beach. What I love about most of them is that each offers a unique culture that is created both by the use of aesthetics and by the demographic of people that the created space attracts. A few of the local coffee shops I frequent include Portfolio, Viento Y Agua, and the Library. But today I write from Sipology, a new coffee shop located on Broadway & Linden.
Sipology has yet to have its grand opening, yet the times I have been here it has been quite busy. The space is perfect for meeting with friends, getting work done, or for simply relaxing while sipping on great coffee. The music here is rather enjoyable – not distracting. Their food is fantastic and fairly priced. My favorite spot is upstairs by the windows that overlook the street below. They even swing open giving you a pleasant draft. If you’re lucky to get one, the couches are comfortable. But if not, no worries… the tables I have sat at here do not wobble – a pet peeve of mine.
By now, you are thinking that I am a nerd. Perhaps I am. However, I could not help but to write about this place that I seemingly have fallen in love with.
Check it out!
Filed under: Book Reviews, Emergent Church, Emerging Church, Theology, World Christianity | Tags: Emergent Christianity, Emergent Church, Emergent Village, Emerging Church, Phyllis Tickle, The Great Emergence
In The Great Emergence, Phyllis Tickle sets out to provide us with a narrative understanding of monumental shifts that have occurred in Church history in relation to the ecclesial shifts being felt around the globe today. Tickle observes a noticeable pattern that has developed throughout the life of the institutional church since its conception –that about every five hundred years, “the Church feels compelled to hold a giant rummage sale (Tickle, 16).” She goes on to note, however, that these rummage sales are always rooted in broader cultural shifts that challenge religious, social, and moral assumptions that were considered normative for people of previous generations. Tickle outlines what exactly is at stake at the time of these historical shifts with what she calls a “cable of meaning.” The cable of meaning consists of, and is always held together by, an outer casing that represents a coherent narrative that is shared by people in community. Inside of the cable we find a shared imagination that is significantly more flexible than its outer casing, allowing the cable to contort and adjust when needed (all the while remaining intact). And finally, incased within the shared imagination is an interwoven thread that consists of spiritual, corporeal, and moral strands (Tickle, 36). Held together, this cable of meaning composes a contextual worldview that provides people a collective understanding for what it means to be human in the world they live in.
During times of upheaval, however, the cable of meaning experiences a fissure that results in a significant reconsideration of everything that has held the cable together for the past five hundred years. Specifically, the strands of spirituality, corporeality, and morality undergo deconstruction and subsequent redefinition before they are once again woven together and placed back within the cable. Once this is done, the rupture experienced by the defining narrative and the shared imagination is repaired and resealed in order that we might again collectively understand, although in vastly different ways, what it means to be human. According to Tickle, these upheavals (as described above) are characteristic of significant historical shifts such as the conception of Christianity in the first century, the fall of the Roman Empire and the emergence of the Dark Ages in and around the sixth century, the Great Schism that occurred in the eleventh century, and the sixteenth century Protestant Reformation (Tickle, 19-26). Of course, she then goes on to show how all signs point to yet another rummage sale that is occurring within the Church today. And it just so happens to be five hundred years since the last great historical shift. Welcome to the Great Emergence.
What I find compelling about Tickle’s argument is that it is set within a coherent narrative that recognizes the Great Emergence (that is, the current socio-cultural and socio-religious shifts occurring around the globe) as part of an evolution that is quite elusive and a bit grandeur than any of us can imagine. In other words, it is not bound up an Enlightenment myth of progress, as if we have reached a superior stage in cultural development that grants us an exclusive voice among historical epochs of the past. Rather, Tickle reminds us that our role in the narrative is only one part being played among the whole of human history. In my opinion, this is a posture of humility that allows for grace as we move forward into an abyss of change and uncertainty.
Concerning the state of the Church during the current shift known as the Great Emergence, upheaval is undoubtedly underway. The question, “Where now is our authority?” is resounding once again as people from across the world experience firsthand the impact of globalization (to use a broad term). While some within the Church have been deceived by questions such as “Who (or what) is emerging and/or emergent?” the reality that faces us today is that emergence is happening. It seems to me that the issue is not a matter of whether or not shifting has begun, but rather how we choose to respond.
Again, Tickle assumes a posture of humility and grace by recognizing the Church’s need for liberals and conservatives, progressives and traditionalists, liturgicals and renewalists, etc. in times of upheaval (Tickle, 139-143). Often, the tendency for those who are hosting the rummage sale is to clean house without ever considering that some things might still prove valuable and useful to the rest of the family. On the other hand, traditionalists are usually found arguing amongst themselves why the rummage sale is even necessary (after all, there is plenty of space in the attic for that dusty pair of shoes). But Tickle rightly argues that, despite how broken the relationships between opposing parties can often seem, they need each other if there is any hope that the cable of meaning might be reconfigured and restored to once again serve its purpose.
Moving forward, I am convinced there are strands within the cable of meaning (to use Tickle’s metaphor) that have yet to be reconfigured. Hence, there remains an overwhelming sense that the Church is still experiencing the wounds caused by the current upheaval. Given the impact of science and new technologies, I suspect the wounds we have experienced will prove to be different than those caused in the past. Furthermore, only time will tell how deep the wounds are and thus what kind of effort will be required in order for healing to be administered. In other words, the future has yet to be told and remains rather ambiguous. My hope is that we might learn from the failures of our past, all the while working out our differences in a spirit of God’s purpose to reconcile all things in heaven and on earth through the life, death, and resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ.
Filed under: Book Reviews, Emergent Church, Emerging Church, Theology | Tags: An Emergent Theology for Emerging Churches, Ray Anderson
In An Emergent Theology for Emerging Churches, Ray Anderson set out to give a theological backbone to the emerging church movement. What I find interesting is that, immediately Anderson asked his reader to consider the possibility that emerging churches are nothing new, but are rather part of a much larger conversation. Despite the recent attention, along with diversity of views and opinions that have been formed toward and exist within the present-day emerging church movement, Anderson identified the emerging church as a phenomenon that dates back to the emergence of Christian communities in Antioch in the first century. For him, the emerging church is not a postmodern trend, but rather a movement that has history along with a distinct theology.
According to Anderson, what set the first emerging church (Antioch) apart from their Jerusalem counterparts was their theology of revelation. While Jerusalem was bound by an historical precedence, it was Paul’s understanding of Pentecost that led him to believe that God was not bound by history, but was now revealing himself in new ways. In other words, God, as revealed in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, was still speaking through the medium of the Holy Spirit. In one of his letters to the Corinthians, Paul stated that God had put a seal on us and has now given his Spirit “as a first installment” of what is to come (2 Corinthians 1:22). It was through the historical person and work of Jesus Christ, that God had reclaimed us as his people. And it is by the living Christ, revealed through the Holy Spirit, that we are now being drawn toward that which has yet to be consummated. Anderson described this relationship between the historical Christ and the living Christ as being “eschatological in nature,” meaning “a new age has broken into the old, so that these eras now overlap (Anderson, 33).”
When Paul arrived on the scene in Antioch, he did so with a message that was not tied down to the historical, but was anchored in the belief that Christ was the fulfillment of the historical and was now guiding him in all wisdom and knowledge towards something new. Of course, this was not simply a message for the Jewish people, but was also for the Gentiles. For it was together that both Jews and Gentiles would create a new humanity in Christ (Ephesians 2:15). As one might guess, this caused quite a debacle for those who insisted on imposing old religious dogma on new believers who had come to faith in Jesus Christ without having adopted the Mosaic Law along with its traditions.
Nevertheless, I found the crux of Ray Anderson’s emergent theology for emerging churches in chapter six where he identified the relationship he sees between the Word of God and the work of God. According to him, emerging churches seek to engage in the ongoing hermeneutical task of reading and interpreting the Word of God alongside the already-not yet work of God in the world. Following Paul, he even went so far to suggest that, through the Spirit, the work of God becomes the framework through which we must come to understand and interpret the Word of God and its capacity to reveal truth to us today (Anderson, 123).
I will admit that, on paper, this is quite compelling in its progressive appeal. However, many will argue that how this actually works out as a lived reality is a bit ambiguous and is not always consistent with the romanticism that often pervades our idealism and naiveté. After all, let’s be honest – anytime human beings, whether individually or communally, are left with the work of interpretation (especially concerning something as ambiguous as the work of God as determined by revelation), there is always the risk that we take historically constituted revelation to have ahistorical validity. Unfortunately, we know this story all to well in the West. And it is certainly not unfamiliar to the institutional Church.
Nevertheless, I don’t think the issue is not whether or not we must embrace the work of interpretation. Interpretation is not optional; the sooner we get that, the better. Instead, the issue at hand concerns how we interpret and/or in what posture we accept the task of interpretation. For too long, Christians have understood the revelation of God to be the equivalent of our interpretation of it. This has led to various forms of oppression and injustice, ranging anywhere from social outcasting to bloodshed. As we move forward, however, I recognize an increasing need for an ethic of weakness and humility (an ethic of the cross if you will) as the foundation of our efforts to interpret and embody both what God has said and what God is saying.
Of course, this will not always satisfy those who have built their ideological belief systems on modernist presuppositions (concerning the nature of truth especially). But perhaps what Anderson is offering here is not a theology that fits neatly within a strictly modern paradigm. Instead, maybe he is suggesting a necessary alternative – that when the Kingdom comes to us from the eschatological future and God’s will is done on earth as in Heaven, despite our modern cries for a formulaic system of belief that makes sense to everyone, the world as we know it is thrown into disorder, leaving us with the task of discerning the mystery of God’s Spirit and the black hole of faith that Jesus invites us to step into.
For the record, I would recommend this book to anybody who is at all interested in exploring the theology that undergirds the emerging church movement. We need more books like this as we continue to sift through the stereotypes that have been created in order to get to the meat of what emerging churches are saying – because, in my opinion, what they have to say is worth hearing! If nothing else, Ray Anderson evidences just that in this book.
Filed under: Christ and Culture, Good Times, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: California Natives, Long Beach, Luther Burbank Elementary, Origins Church, School Gardens, Serve the City
This month, churches throughout the city of Long Beach are preparing to participate in a citywide event called Serve the City. This is something that I have been looking forward to for a while now, and as the event draws near I am finding myself even more excited as I cannot wait to hear some of the stories that emerge from this catalytic opportunity for local communities to experience what it is like to actually be the church to their neighborhoods. I know of quite a few of the participating churches who already spend so much of their time, energy, and resources exploring what it means to be a blessing to their city. For them, Serve the City will simply be an opportunity to be a part of a common effort on behalf of the Church in Long Beach to
show the love of God to people in real ways (which, of course, is no small feat). For other churches, I am sure this will be a new experience that hopefully will raise questions about what it truly means to exist for their non-members.
If nothing else, I think this event represents hope. Undoubtedly, cynics will be quick to point out everything they see wrong with the notion of such an event. But I want to believe that an event such as Serve the City can be a step forward – a step of faith, hope, and love – as we believe together in what the Church could be when we orient our lives toward the work of God ‘s kingdom here on earth as in Heaven. Again, Serve the City is not intended to be an end in and of itself. I think it is great to bring our churches together for a day of service to our city. But if it does not serve as a catalyst for what could be, this will indeed be another fleeting effort that bears little fruit for the cause of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
As part of Serve the City, the Origins Church community is going to be planting California native gardens at Luther Burbank School, an elementary school in our neighborhood. But not only will we be planting gardens. We are also inviting fifth grade students and their families to join us for a “Give back to Burbank” day. Along with planting gardens, we will be working on the school grounds to beautify the property, giving students the opportunity to show their appreciation to the Luther Burbank community before moving on to middle school.
I have learned so much from some of my friends who have a passion for sustainable gardening and now consider myself an expert gardener – not really! But, in all seriousness, this has been an amazing process of learning how to transform a lawn into a garden and coming to understand the ecological value in planting natives. Having been such an educational opportunity for me, my hope is that it will be for the kids as well. In order to prepare the gardens for the event in a couple weeks, some of us worked together today to install some raised beds. Below are some of the pictures…
Filed under: Random Musings | Tags: Church, Musings, Piano Lessons, Teaching
A friend of mine approached me today. He was about to teach a piano lesson and was sharing with me three things that he was considering regarding teaching method – knowledge, application, and reasoning. He told me he was still in the process of working these three things out. But as I thought about it, I realized how much we stress knowledge, application, and reasoning for just about everything. Think about most of our churches in the West. Most have a high regard for knowledge. We teach the Scriptures, discuss them, and think critically about what they mean. And hopefully we apply our knowledge as we attempt to put feet to what we learn – to implement it in our lives. Finally, we have a reason for it. For example, if we believe that God is doing something with the world, we will most likely want to know what it is that God is up to for the simple reason that we want to be a part of it. These are all great things.
But what I suggested to my friend was, What if as teachers, along with knowledge, application, and reasoning, we also encouraged and even enabled inspiration, creativity, and hope. What if we inspired people to believe in something good, true, and beautiful that transcended knowledge? Also, what if we encouraged people to think creatively for how their own gifts could be used to create something unique that moved beyond simply applying something we know or have learned? And finally, I asked, What if hope drove teachers and students alike to believe in something that continues to be unfinished yet woos us to persevere and fall in love with the process, which of course doesn’t always make sense to our human reason?

Lectio Divina is Latin for divine reading. It is an ancient way of reading Scripture that hasbeen kept alive for centuries by the Christian monastic tradition. Lectio Divina is simply a rhythm of reading a given text, meditating on it, entering into prayerful dialogue with God, and creating space to contemplate in stillness.
It is my understanding that the Word of God is not that which can be objectified and thus approached as something we can rationally explain. Rather, it is a mystery that invites us into a relationship. For it is not in the words where we find God, but in our encounter with them.
Thus, Lectio Divina beckons us to delve into the mystery with the hope that we might be transformed by an encounter with the living God.
Romans 11:33-36
Oh, the depth of the riches of the
wisdom and knowledge of
God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
“Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?”
“Who has ever given to God,
that God should repay them?”
For from him and through him and to
him are all things.
To him be the glory forever. Amen
Filed under: Christ and Culture, Random Musings | Tags: Beltway Atheists, Feeding the Homeless, Kingdom of God, Washington DC
I find it quite sobering to think that we are the world’s last hope…
Nevertheless, a community of atheists point to the love (of God?) within us all.
Filed under: Christ and Culture, Other Links | Tags: Bicycles, CCO, Charleston, Robby Peterson
This is an article about a good friend of mine. He works for the CCO college ministry in Charleston, West Virginia and has committed his life to finding creative ways to use his passions and gifts to point to the love of Jesus.
Click here to read more
Filed under: Booknotes, Eschatology, Random Musings, Theology | Tags: How (Not) to Speak of God, John Caputo, Ordo Salutis, Peter Rollins, Stanley Grenz, Systematic Theology, The Weakness of God, Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen
Last quarter I developed an ordo salutis (order of salvation) for Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen’s Systematic Theology 2 course. Since I haven’t had a lot of time to post on a regular basis, I thought I would share it with you in the mean time.
Within the last few hundred years, many efforts have been made from a variety of Christian traditions to produce an ordo salutis – a theological manifesto aimed at articulating the work of salvation in a well-reasoned, coherent manner. But whether from a Lutheran, Reformed, Armenian, or even Roman Catholic perspective, each of these attempts have emphasized the salvific work of Christ first and foremost in relation to the individual. With a slightly different approach, I am going to proceed to give an ordo salutis in light of the event of God and the cosmic call toward eschatological renewal.[1]
The assumption I begin with is that revelation – that is, the self-disclosure of God – in (but not limited to) the event of Christ has caused a climactic rupture within the continuum of time and space as we understand it. Furthermore, the hyper-presence encountered in this event has caused a traumatic shift in the trajectory of history. What I refer to here as hyper-presence represents the event of God that has encountered and, through the work of the Holy Spirit, continues to encounter the world of being as an invitation or a call toward the eschatological kingdom of God.[2] This call, a gravitational pull if you will, acts to beckon all of creation to join in the redemptive purposes of God to “make all things new.” This provides us the necessary framework through which the following ordo salutis takes shape.
Following Stanley Grenz, I begin with eschatological consummation. This assumes something to be wrong in the world of being, but simultaneously implies that, through Christ, the cosmos has been set in motion towards healing and renewal. Furthermore, by starting with eschatology, by necessity we assume election – that God has initiated a salvific effort to rescue a world enslaved by sin and darkness. Next, we must speak of the event of the call. I will refer to this event as the word of God. It meets us, along with the entire cosmos, as a future reality in the form of a present encounter. From this encounter then emerges conversion, rendering nothing to be the same again. For as much emphasis Evangelicals place on conversion, here it simply evidences the authenticity of the encounter. Following conversion is justification – that is, God’s affirmation and/or declaration that “the old has gone, the new has come!” And finally, the process of sanctification is initiated. This is the outworking of life lived in response to God’s call to live in light of the already/not yet kingdom of God.
In closing, the above ordo salutis entails eschatological consummation (election assumed), the event of God, conversion, justification, and sanctification. This is not limited to the life of an individual, but embraces the salvific process of the individual as part of God’s eschatological invitation to the cosmos. This is a work that finds its climax in the event of Christ and is carried forward by the Holy Spirit of the triune God.
[1] In his work, The Weakness of God, John D. Caputo uses the “event of God” to refer to “an impulse or aspiration simmering within both the names of entities and the name of being, something that groans to be born, something that cannot be constricted to either the ontic or ontological order at all (5).” It is this “impulse” that arrives as an invitation or a call “to go where we cannot go (11).” Following Caputo, I have chosen to use the language of event to refer to the call toward eschatological renewal. This provides us with a broader framework through which to view the salvific work of Christ and its cosmic implications.
[2] Hyper-presence is a term I borrowed from Peter Rollins in his work, How (Not) to Speak of God. He refers to it as “a type of divine saturation that exists in the heart of God’s presence (23).” I have chosen to use hyper-presence here to describe the nature of an encounter with the event of God.
Filed under: Random Musings, Theology | Tags: Atonement, Cross, Musings, Theology
Below is an e-mail I sent to a friend of mine earlier this morning along with his response. I am interested to hear some of your thoughts.
MY EMAIL
So whenever we speak of “participating in the cross” I think there is somewhat of a reaction similar to this – “well, yes Jesus has called us to pick up our crosses but let’s be sure that when we speak of participating we are not implying that we have a role in the atoning work of the cross.” I might be making that up. Nevertheless, something occurred for me this morning. Picking up our crosses (a weird metaphor for the 21st century for sure) represents selflessness, sacrifice, vulnerability, giving oneself away for the benefit of the other, etc, etc. It is the purest act of love (as Paul expresses in 1 Corinthians 13).
With that said, I was reading James this morning who says, “whoever turns a sinner away from the error of his life will SAVE him from death and COVER a multitude of sins (5:20).” Furthermore, in a similar passage, Peter states, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8).” Peter doesn’t say that Jesus alone covers over our sin, but that love does. The point is love – at least love as DEMONSTRATED in the act of taking up the cross. The question I am asking is, Might we dare leave open the possibility that this kind of love is atonement (that which heals, reconciles, restores, repairs, etc.) and that we are actually being invited to participate in effecting it?
Just some early morning musings.
MY FRIEND’S RESPONSE
“Might we dare leave open the possibility that this kind of love is atonement and that we are actually being invited to participate in effecting it?”
We dare everyday. Even though we don’t talk about it theologically, this is exactly how we live. Of course, we have devised clever schemes and systems to cover up this simple fact – that love is the ONLY way we can participate in atonement. The ONLY way.
The problem is, the church has developed its own systems of agreement around what it looks like for us to take up our crosses daily. When this happens, the truth of the cross is reduced and is left to have little if any meaning outside of the system that seeks to contain it. Which is interesting considering that Love might be the only universal/transversal opportunity for human beings to participate in what Christians call atonement.
Remember, by asking these questions, you are not being heretical to God. At most, you are being heretical within a system of agreement about God. That said, I don’t think you are being heretical at all. Theology should always be about the business of opening up possibilities, not shutting them down. Dare away, my friend!
Thoughts?


















