A Community Called Atonement by Scot McKnight: A Review.

So for those who aren’t in my “white suburban men who like to sit around and talk about theology circle”, you may not be familiar with a rather excellent blogger and every-man theologian, Scot McKnight. He is currently the #1 Blogger of said circle, taking the title away from the former champ, The Tall Skinny Kiwi. You don’t get the title of being the most read “emerging church” person without being a well respected bloke with a moderate, generous voice. So when Emergent launched their new line of applicable theology books, Scot McKnight got the chance to articulate the church emerging‘s diversity of thought on the topic of the atonement.

The topic of the atonement has become somewhat of a flash point over the last few years among conservative evangelical leaders who critique (unfairly) “emergent-types” of being heretics because some are not as passionate about the penal substitutionary atonement being the only metaphor used when thinking about the life (meaning of) and death (purpose of) Christ. Much of this critique coming from the conservative camp centers on Steve Chalke‘s seminal book The Lost Message of Jesus, in which he argues that the penal substitution is a poor metaphor to use solely and exclusively as a mean of explaining the message of Jesus.

In a nutshell, the penal substitution theory says that the life and death of Jesus was all about, solely, and strictly and related to God’s wrath needing to be appeased. So in that vein “God” punished “Jesus” on behalf of “humanity”. A common metaphor used was that God had a gun pointing at humanity but God made Jesus stand in front of the gun to take the bullet for us. You may recall Nick & I getting testy over Derek Webb dropping this on us during one of our podcasts. But I digress. Back to the review.

This book is the first in a new partnership between Abingdon Press & Emergent Village where Emergent is attempting to articulate the diverse perspectives of theology within the practicing church emerging community. One of the slams is that we care nothing about theology and only want to remake it in a “postmodern” light. So this new line of books focusing on applicable theology is a step in proving that assertion wrong. And the first book in the series is a response to our biggest critique, namely that we care nothing about “sin”, the cross, or the “afterlife”.

Scot McKnight was given the challenge to answer this critique as well as find a common voice for one of the most diverse ecclesial communities on one of the most debatable topics of theology – the atonement. And while I don’t always agree with McKnight’s theological conclusions (particularly in regards to the comprehensiveness of sin), I think this is one of the most generous articulations of atonement theory that I’ve ever read.

As Series Editor, Tony Jones says in the Introduction,

“These books will not only tackle theological issues, they’ll also promote a way of doing theology – one that is conversational, collegial, and winsome. Those of us who are involved in this series hold our own convictions, but we do with enough humility to let contrary opinions shape us, too.”

McKnight’s contribution to atonement theory in just 156 pages is plenty. His main premise is that for to long we have held one particular theory tightly to the exclusive ignoring of others. He uses the analogy of a golf bag and golfing. He retells a question that he was once asked about what was his favorite golf club? He said he thought that was a rather odd question to ask since all of his clubs were equally important depending on the conditions and terrain. When he was on the putting green, his favorite club was the putter. When he was on the tee box, his favorite club was the driver. When he was in the green, his favorite club was an iron. McKnight then compares this to atonement theories. Instead of relying on one exclusive club and playing every shot with the same club (trying to putt with a driver) that the seasoned golfer relied on all of the clubs and appreciated each for their part in the whole.

McKnight then carries this metaphorical theme throughout the book describing how we need all of the club/theories – and even the golf bag itself – in order to have a robust and healthy theological perspective of the atonement.

As an applicable theologian, McKnight does not just begin and end the book by describing the different theories of the atonement, but rather begins at the beginning of our story (creation/Genesis) and ends at the transitioning chapter (new creation/Revelation) of our story. In that vein, I think the most important chapter might be his thoughts on Eikons (which I’m sure the Orthodox tradition would deeply value) in which he explains the nature of humanity’s intent, their cracked state, and how the relationality of Jesus (horizontally and vertically) heals the problem for us (horizontally and vertically) . . . (he does a great job of explaining the difference in beginning with wrath and beginning with relationality that I think deserves much more thought in theological circles).

Not only does he root the conversation of atonement in the original creation story but directs the trajectory of the atonement into the here and now. Explaining how the atonement is not just a future oriented “act of God” of cleaning sinners for future entry into heaven, but rather an act that crashes into the present inviting the community of God to participate in the healing, restoration, and justice of the world.

All in all, McKnight does an excellent job with a difficult topic. Balancing the tradition/history of the church with the present/contextual. Balancing the reformed perspective with the new Paul perspectives. My only complaint is that the book was a bit choppy. With each chapter being only 4 or 5 pages. I only wished that each thought would have been given more space and breathing room to develop. But at that point, it would have probably become too weighty and unbearable to manage, losing it’s applicable theology status and becoming a theology for the elite.

If you’ve made it through this whole thing, I’m also giving this book away for free since it was sent to me for review for free. Just leave me a comment if you want it. The only thing is . . . when you’re done reading it, you have to pass it along to someone else.

[tags]Emergent, Emergent+Village, Emergent+Books, Jesus Creed, Scot McKnight, Scot McKnight + Books, Penal Substitution[/tags]

An Emergent Manifesto of Hope: A Review.

Recently I got given a gift card to Borders and was finally able to go out and buy a book instead of relying on the trusty old library. So I picked up a book that I’ve been wanting to read but that the library didn’t carry and to which I was not privilege with an advanced reader’s copy (I’m not complaining). I’ve been curious to read it because it is the first book that Emergent has released in their new line of books. And I thought the format would be perfect for just this type of entrance into the publishing world.

The book is made up of 25 authors who each wrote a chapter for the project with general editors, Doug Pagitt & Tony Jones, providing intermittent thoughts and transitions between sections.

These 25 authors represent a diverse group of people that are, Protestant and Catholic, male and female, mainline and evangelical, clergy/pastors and lay leaders, authors and bloggers, black, white, hispanic, and Native American. This is the book’s strength. It’s diversity of authors and thus it’s diversity of perspective. My only complaint in this regards would have been to had a more diverse ethnic presence and a sampling of thoughts that come from outside of the American context. But I also realize that with anything new, it takes time for diversity to establish itself.

As far as the book itself . . . it’s a great introduction to what makes Emergent what it is and what sets it apart from other denominational or organizational structures. Namely, friendships and conversations. This context of friendship and conversation is what funds the theological imagination and hopeful practices of the church emerging. Instead of Emergent creating a movement focusing on doctrinal statements (defining whose out) . . . they have been a part of a friendship that has organically created itself in the form of a conversation about the dynamic tension between God, culture, theology, ecclesiology, and practice.

True to form, I don’t always find myself agreeing with everything written or shared. But true to form, I count myself privileged to be part of an extended friendship where agreeing is less important than belonging.

I suppose, as what should be expected, the best chapters are written by the “professional authors”. Brian McLaren‘s chapter on the direct, inseparable ties of colonialism and postmodernity is borderline brilliant. Sally Morgenthaler has an excellent chapter on leadership in a flattened world that was equally insightful. And Tim Keel wrote a beautiful piece about leadership needing to come from the artists at the margins. Rudy Carrasco has a nice chapter on inner-city work and the primacy of social justice. Samir Selmanovic has a chapter on inclusiveness that left me entirely frustrated and yet intrigued to stretch and think wider. My friend Adam Walker Cleaveland shares his thoughts on why he has chosen to stay within the system and structures of the church, which was a challenge for me to think about. And Nanette Sawyer had a very good chapter on Huckleberry Finn and the relational ethics of Jesus (which is very much in the vein of what I wrote here).

Honestly though, there are some chapters that aren’t that great from a readability/literary skillz standpoint. But even in those chapters you get the deep sense of humility and friendship that pervades all that these authors are bound by. For an introduction into the church emerging with it’s growing diversity and generative friendships . . . I couldn’t recommend a book more highly. And since I bought it with a gift card and I’m trying to de-collectify myself . . . the first person who leaves a comment wanting the book can have it.

[tags]Emergent, Emergent+Village, Emergent+Books, Emergent+Manifesto+of+Hope[/tags]

The European Dream.

The following is from Jeremy Rifkin’s book, The European Dream. If I could create a foundation as to why I believe what I do about government and it’s citizens and the dynamic interplay between the two . . . this would be it. In the first paragraph, instead of just focusing on black Americans, realize that he’s talking about the inner-city poor that are of every ethnicity. He simply used black Americans as an illustration to the point, as he discusses white American poverty in the preceding pages. So replace black with poor to get a better understanding of where he’s going. The second paragraph is what most Americans believe, either openly or discretely, either consciously or subconciously. Rifkin makes the great point that this idea is tied to the fabric of the original frontiersman American Dream. The third paragraph explains why it’s important for both the government and the citizens to take care of those left behind. Not because they are inferior and we should play the role of individual charity giver. But rather because in the majority of the cases (not all) the poverty is rooted in systemic change that makes “opportunity” and “equality” less of an option than we perceive it to be based off of our frontiersman view of the American Dream.

And if the truth were to be told, many white Americans think that black Americans are lazy, at best, or worst, genetically incapable of rising above their circumstances. Some observers have suggested that one of the reasons Europeans, unlike Americans, are more willing to believe that the poor are poor through no fault of their own but rather because of societal factors is because until recently, their poor were not racial minorities but rather, white Caucasians, and therefore the majority was able to identify and even empathize with their plight, believing that “there but for the grace of God go I.” Race, especially in America, where the white majority has yet to fully come to grips with more than two hundred years of slavery, becomes the dividing line between “us” and “the other.” It’s easier to dismiss the disquieting number of people in poverty if they aren’t like us, if they are perceived as somehow racially, even biologically, separate. White America can’t afford to believe that the American way of life might, in some way, be to blame for the destitute conditions many black Americans find themselves in. The sad reality, however, is that a majority of African Americans come from the legions of the poor, raised on the bleak streets of inner cities, where the opportunities to rise above their dire circumstances are few. Yet most of us continue to turn away from their plight, unwilling to modify the great American belief that, in this country, opportunity abounds.

Given the vast differences in how most Americans and Europeans perceive the notion of equality of opportunity, it’s not hard to understand the two very different approaches taken to address the twin issues of income disparity and poverty. While Americans encourage private efforts to alleviate poverty and provide greater mobility, we are, for the most part, unwilling to commit our tax money to the task. If the rich are rich because they are smarter and work harder, and the poor are poor because they are lazy or without ability, then nothing the government does is going to make much of a difference. And besides, it would send the wrong message – namely, that those who worked hard and made something of their lives ought to then sacrifice some of their hard-earned income to compensate those who didn’t work hard and lacked the ability to succeed. Redistributing the wealth, say some, would compromise the very soul of the American Dream and make a mockery of the frontier covenant that is at the heart of the American success story. Many Americans believe that the marketplace is still the fairest mechanism for distributing the productive wealth of society. 

Europeans, because they have had a long tradition of hereditary status and transmission – some European Union countries still have kinds and queens – are more used to thinking of society in class terms and are far more willing to entertain the idea of government intervening to redress inequities. On the continent – less so in the U.K. – the market is not held in such unquestioned awe as in America. There is the belief that market forces, if left to their own devices, are often unfair and, therefore, need to be tamed. Government redistribution, in the form of transfers and payments to those less fortunate, is considered an appropriate antidote to unrestrained market capitalism. That is why in Europe the notion of creating social democracies – a mixed system that balances market forces with government assistance – has flourished since World War II.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Final Video.

Well here it is. My last video from the Harry Potter extravaganza. Thanks to Anna for taking the pictures and some video. And Eric for taking some video as well.

I’m sorry I fell through on the video blogging. But it turns out I was much more tired than I expected that day and ended up resting up for the big night.

A special thanks to my lovely wife for being a trooper and putting up with some people who definitely aren’t her “crowd”. She made it all the way until the last 15 minutes when the crowd collapsed on itself and bordered on a riot. At which point she stepped outside and shot pictures through the windows. I think she even enjoyed herself playing a good game of SNAPE (Bingo). And thanks for enduring my insane energy/excitement burst that came uncontrollably every 5 minutes or so.

Anyway . . . enjoy the video. The music is by Thee More Shallows.

Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows.

Well the last 24 hours have been a bit of a blur. But I just finished the last chapter in a great epic. Oddly and mysteriously, I finished it at the same exact time and minute that I began reading it last night in the car. A full 24 hours later.

I’ll reserve my full thoughts until everyone has had a chance to read it. So maybe the middle of next week.

But right now I feel full. As if I went to sleep right now, I could sleep for days and have nothing but good dreams. It’s a very content feeling.

There has never been a set of books that have made me feel such a wide range of emotions. And on such a deep level. That’s the power of stories and characters. For the past 4 hours (the last 300 pages of the book or so) I’ve sat on the edge of my seat with my stomach in knots. Feeling torn, upset, nauseas, excited, and hopeful to name a few.

All in all, salty, watery excrements filled my eyes on 6 different occasions. At one point (page 700 for those reading along) I broke down and woke Anna up from sleeping and was crying at the foot of the bed. My voice cracking I couldn’t even get my words out. All I could muster was that I loved her and that I would never leave her. That lasted about 5 minutes straight. Heavy crying like that has only happened to me twice in my life. Once at our wedding when I blew snot bubbles. And once when I saw my “girlfriend” dancing with another guy (Charlie) at my first school dance.

It was a beautiful and fitting story and I have no complaints. At least not right now.

If you have never given Harry Potter a chance, I’m telling you that you’re missing out. It’s as good as any piece of literature that has ever been written.

Those who have gotten finished reading it, I’d love to hear your responses. But no plot or spoiler information please.