The other day I found myself watching some scenes from Saving Private Ryan on TV. You know you really like a movie when you own it on DVD, have watched it multiple times, yet find yourself sitting through it again when it shows up on TV, commercials and all. Very few films fall into that category for me. This is one of them. It's incredibly violent, but also incredibly powerful and moving.
When we lived in Britain we used to hear over and over again how awful Saving Private Ryan was. "More American propoganda," they would say, "spreading the lie once again that the U.S. won the war all by themselves." They would point out that all you see in the film are Americans, those "bloody Yanks" who obviously think they were the only ones fighting in WWII. There was real animosity about it. I tried to explain to them how they were wrong, but they often didn't have ears to hear.
Where they were wrong is this: Saving Private Ryan is not about how America won WWII "all by themselves." Yes, there is a palpable absence of Allied troops from other nations, but that is part of the purpose of the film, a purpose with which folks in Europe simply couldn't identify. Why? Because in Europe, WWII is still very much in the public consciousness: it was a war fought on their homeland, it was their soil that absorbed the blood of loved ones, and the marks and memories of war are still very much a part of the culture. Just about every town in Britain has a war memorial of some sort, marking the names of those from that city who gave their lives to fight the Nazi menace. We were living in Scotland during the 50th anniversary of VE Day, and it was all they talked about all week, and the memories were still very fresh.
In America it is vastly different. Apart from Hawaii, we didn't fight the war on our soil. Although the people of the U.S. paid a great price in blood and sacrifice, the cultural memory is nowhere near as resonant here as it is in Europe. After all, it was a war fought "Over There," and as such many Americans have forgotten the depth of sacrifice that made our freedom possible. We had the "police action" of Korea and the mess of Vietnam come along and wipe our consciousness clean of the memories which otherwise are still fresh in Europe.
We have forgotten, plain and simple.
That's why Steven Spielberg made Saving Private Ryan: to call Americans back to the reality of what that generation of brave men and women bought for us with their lives. That's why there are so few non-American troops in the film--not because we think we did it "all on our own," but because so many of us have forgotten we did it at all. We needed to see Americans dying on the screen because we've lost sight of the Americans who died on the battlefield. It was a call to the U.S. to remember once again the price that was paid for our freedom: it was made for Americans not in pride, but out of the shame that we could forget such a sacrifice. That's why it could never resonate in a part of the world that has never really forgotten.
I can't stop thinking about this today, because I think it's an important message during Holy Week. Just like America is so quick to forget the price that was paid for our liberty, so we also are quick to forget the price that was paid that we might be reconciled to God. We fail to appreciate the depth of the sacrifice made for us. We need Lent as a reminder--before Easter Sunday, there was Good Friday. In that respect, The Passion of the Christ is sort of like Saving Private Ryan for followers of Jesus: a film that reminds us of the blood that was shed for our freedom. But we don't need a movie for that, do we? Christ himself told us what to do: "Do this in remembrance of me." Each time we celebrate communion, we are called to ponder the sacrifice made for us.
May we never forget.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Monday, April 6, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The End of....Well, Everything
Geez, you take a few weeks off blogging, and the whole world falls apart. Or so it would seem, given three major news stories I found over the past few days. And these were linked from major sites--I didn't have to dig through the Internet's trash to find them.
The first was David Wilkerson's latest prophecy of doom for America, which has gotten quite a bit of play in the media. I really don't want to spend much time or energy on this, because David's been making similar predictions for over 30 years. Could he be right? Of course he could. Just as many secular "prophets" are predicting some pretty nasty stuff, and let's face it--anything can happen. But I think this prophecy is only getting more attention than his previous ones because of the economic collapse happening around us. The current crisis has primed the culture for something even worse, and predictions like this feed that fear. Me? I'm not hungry.
Next came this AP story on the Drudge Report that tells the story of yet another religion poll in America, this one claiming that the number of people who identify as having "no faith" is up from seven years ago. Again, I don't want to spend much time or energy on this. Why? Because I could think of any number of alternate titles for this story. Here are a few:
Then, finally, came the coup d' état--this powerfully affecting editorial by self-proclaimed "Internet Monk" Michael Spencer which was linked, also, on Drudge. It's the end of the evangelical world as we know it, and yet...I feel fine. But I guess I shouldn't, given dramatic and dire statements like this one:
"Millions of Evangelicals will quit. Thousands of ministries will end. Christian media will be reduced, if not eliminated. Many Christian schools will go into rapid decline. I’m convinced the grace and mission of God will reach to the ends of the earth. But the end of evangelicalism as we know it is close."
He forgot: "Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!" But I jest...
Anyone reading these words needs to remember, first of all, that Spencer is not writing without an agenda. He already self-identifies as a "post-evangelical," proclaiming that evangelicalism "is a mess," which gives you a strong indication what his starting point is in all of this. This isn't the depressing assessment from a proponent of evangelicalism who is declaring an unfortunate, unstoppable future: this is the voice of a rebel, who does not rejoice in what he writes, but supports its ultimate conclusion.
Don't read what I'm not writing--I empathize with may of Spencer's "rebellious" views. But I think one of the things that happened with this article is what I call "Headlinitis." It's a malady caused by the fact that many people today read only the headline and first couple of lines of a news story, then jump to a conclusion of what it's really about. So we had tons of evangelicals reading a smackerel of this (and no doubt mixing in a little Wilkerson and the aforementioned AP story), and running off like Chicken Little to their friends and pastors.*
But a careful reading of Spencer's stuff clearly indicates the strong editorial nature of his words. I wonder how many folks made it to this paragraph:
"Will the coming collapse get Evangelicals past the pragmatism and shallowness that has brought about the loss of substance and power? Probably not. The purveyors of the evangelical circus will be in fine form, selling their wares as the promised solution to every church's problems. I expect the landscape of megachurch vacuity to be around for a very long time."
Them's strong words, Mike. And words with which I don't necessarily disagree. But the problem is, those who never managed to get this far in the article missed the real point of what Spencer was saying. They took what was really meant as a damning critique of evangelicalism and turned it into a pity party.
But then again, Christians are pretty good at that.
I'll wrap up by saying this: doom and gloom is nothing new. And the junk we're dealing with is nothing new. In fact, we're dealing with less junk than a lot of generations of Christians. But for me, I just can't get worked up by prophecies of catastrophe, snapshots of the culture's spiritual pulse, or one man's personal portrait of evangelicalism's future. I'm too busy being amazed by watching God at work in the lives of my friends, my church, and heck--even me. Cynical, sarcastic me. And if I'm not beyond hope...then nothing is.
*Personal note to friends who sent me the article--I do not include you in the "Chicken Little" email-forwarding crowd. I know you know that I love this kind of stuff, and I appreciate you calling it to my attention.
The first was David Wilkerson's latest prophecy of doom for America, which has gotten quite a bit of play in the media. I really don't want to spend much time or energy on this, because David's been making similar predictions for over 30 years. Could he be right? Of course he could. Just as many secular "prophets" are predicting some pretty nasty stuff, and let's face it--anything can happen. But I think this prophecy is only getting more attention than his previous ones because of the economic collapse happening around us. The current crisis has primed the culture for something even worse, and predictions like this feed that fear. Me? I'm not hungry.
Next came this AP story on the Drudge Report that tells the story of yet another religion poll in America, this one claiming that the number of people who identify as having "no faith" is up from seven years ago. Again, I don't want to spend much time or energy on this. Why? Because I could think of any number of alternate titles for this story. Here are a few:
- More Americans Choose Not to Lie in Religion Survey
- More Americans Understand that Faith is Not a Cultural Inheritance
- More Americans Embarrassed by Christian Excesses Than Ever
- Mainline Denominations Shed Excess Weight
Then, finally, came the coup d' état--this powerfully affecting editorial by self-proclaimed "Internet Monk" Michael Spencer which was linked, also, on Drudge. It's the end of the evangelical world as we know it, and yet...I feel fine. But I guess I shouldn't, given dramatic and dire statements like this one:
"Millions of Evangelicals will quit. Thousands of ministries will end. Christian media will be reduced, if not eliminated. Many Christian schools will go into rapid decline. I’m convinced the grace and mission of God will reach to the ends of the earth. But the end of evangelicalism as we know it is close."
He forgot: "Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!" But I jest...
Anyone reading these words needs to remember, first of all, that Spencer is not writing without an agenda. He already self-identifies as a "post-evangelical," proclaiming that evangelicalism "is a mess," which gives you a strong indication what his starting point is in all of this. This isn't the depressing assessment from a proponent of evangelicalism who is declaring an unfortunate, unstoppable future: this is the voice of a rebel, who does not rejoice in what he writes, but supports its ultimate conclusion.
Don't read what I'm not writing--I empathize with may of Spencer's "rebellious" views. But I think one of the things that happened with this article is what I call "Headlinitis." It's a malady caused by the fact that many people today read only the headline and first couple of lines of a news story, then jump to a conclusion of what it's really about. So we had tons of evangelicals reading a smackerel of this (and no doubt mixing in a little Wilkerson and the aforementioned AP story), and running off like Chicken Little to their friends and pastors.*
But a careful reading of Spencer's stuff clearly indicates the strong editorial nature of his words. I wonder how many folks made it to this paragraph:
"Will the coming collapse get Evangelicals past the pragmatism and shallowness that has brought about the loss of substance and power? Probably not. The purveyors of the evangelical circus will be in fine form, selling their wares as the promised solution to every church's problems. I expect the landscape of megachurch vacuity to be around for a very long time."
Them's strong words, Mike. And words with which I don't necessarily disagree. But the problem is, those who never managed to get this far in the article missed the real point of what Spencer was saying. They took what was really meant as a damning critique of evangelicalism and turned it into a pity party.
But then again, Christians are pretty good at that.
I'll wrap up by saying this: doom and gloom is nothing new. And the junk we're dealing with is nothing new. In fact, we're dealing with less junk than a lot of generations of Christians. But for me, I just can't get worked up by prophecies of catastrophe, snapshots of the culture's spiritual pulse, or one man's personal portrait of evangelicalism's future. I'm too busy being amazed by watching God at work in the lives of my friends, my church, and heck--even me. Cynical, sarcastic me. And if I'm not beyond hope...then nothing is.
*Personal note to friends who sent me the article--I do not include you in the "Chicken Little" email-forwarding crowd. I know you know that I love this kind of stuff, and I appreciate you calling it to my attention.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Gross National Happiness
Where is the happiest place on Earth (apart from Columbus, Ohio around the third Saturday of November)? You might think that the United States, being the richest and most influential country in the world, is also the happiest. But that's not the case. At least not according to a "scientific" survey done by Leicester University in England. According to their research, America ranks as the 23rd happiest country in the world, just ahead of Australia and just behind the Netherlands (and tied with nine other countries). At the top of the list? The nation of Denmark, home to Hamlet (now there's a happy guy) and Hans Christian Andersen. In fact, Denmark has led the survey (and other similar research projects) for about 30 years.
The survey by Leicester is pretty thorough and altogether fascinating, and even produces a nice graphic representation of global happiness levels. Here it is:
(click image to enlarge)
The survey by Leicester is pretty thorough and altogether fascinating, and even produces a nice graphic representation of global happiness levels. Here it is:
(click image to enlarge)Apprently, red=happiness (again...Columbus is a very happy place!).
One country that's hard to pinpoint on that map, however, is the tiny nation of Bhutan, or as its citizens call it, "Land of the Thunder Dragon." Bhutan currently comes into the survey at number eight with a bullet, but I'm sure they're doing everything they can to bash those Danish smiles to a pulp and take their rightful place as the happiest people on the planet. After all, Bhutan has made happiness their singular national goal.
When Jigme Singye Wangchuck became ruler in Bhutan in 1972, he instituted quite a few national reforms, not the least of which was completely redefining what success as a country would mean. Rather than measuring their place in the world by Gross National Product, they would now measure their national output in terms of Gross National Happiness. That's right--the central pursuit of Bhutan is not economic prosperity, but emotional well-being. Guided by their Buddhist values, the leaders and people of Bhutan make happiness the primary goal in every plan they execute, every decision they make, and every policy they adopt.
This week at church I'm preaching on the subject of happiness, and as I prepare I'm realizing that the evangelical church in America has a lot in common with the people of Bhutan. We seem to have made happiness our goal as well. Just look at the bestselling books in recent years, which seem obsessed with our emotional well-being, our success...our "best life." Flip through the channels, and there's a good chance that preacher on TV is telling you you are one "faith step," one "seed sowing," or one prayer away from having everything you want, from casting aside those troublesome circumstances which keep you from a life of true happiness, prosperity, and unfettered bliss.
I've got news for those preachers and authors--Jesus didn't die to make us happy. We in the church love to quote the verse from John 15 when Jesus tells the disciples his joy will be "in you" and will be "complete" (John 15:11). The problem is we've confused the joy that Jesus gives with worldly happiness. We fail to remember that moments later Jesus tells that very same crowd they are going to be hated and persecuted by the world (John 15:18-20). How can their joy be complete if they're going to know such hatred and persecution?
There's an important truth we in the church need to recapture--there is a big difference between happiness and joy. Happiness is momentary, fleeting...fickle. It's rooted in our circumstances, in what surrounds us at any given moment. But joy is something else entirely. It's not rooted in what's around us, it's rooted in what's in us--the very presence of God. The Comforter and Counselor Jesus himself promised in that same discourse to his disciples--the Holy Spirit--is the true source of our joy.
That's a real comfort to me in these difficult times, because it reminds me that my "best life" is not dependent on my circumstances--that the joy God would have me experience has less to do with what he does in my world, and more to do with what he does in my heart.
One country that's hard to pinpoint on that map, however, is the tiny nation of Bhutan, or as its citizens call it, "Land of the Thunder Dragon." Bhutan currently comes into the survey at number eight with a bullet, but I'm sure they're doing everything they can to bash those Danish smiles to a pulp and take their rightful place as the happiest people on the planet. After all, Bhutan has made happiness their singular national goal.
When Jigme Singye Wangchuck became ruler in Bhutan in 1972, he instituted quite a few national reforms, not the least of which was completely redefining what success as a country would mean. Rather than measuring their place in the world by Gross National Product, they would now measure their national output in terms of Gross National Happiness. That's right--the central pursuit of Bhutan is not economic prosperity, but emotional well-being. Guided by their Buddhist values, the leaders and people of Bhutan make happiness the primary goal in every plan they execute, every decision they make, and every policy they adopt.
This week at church I'm preaching on the subject of happiness, and as I prepare I'm realizing that the evangelical church in America has a lot in common with the people of Bhutan. We seem to have made happiness our goal as well. Just look at the bestselling books in recent years, which seem obsessed with our emotional well-being, our success...our "best life." Flip through the channels, and there's a good chance that preacher on TV is telling you you are one "faith step," one "seed sowing," or one prayer away from having everything you want, from casting aside those troublesome circumstances which keep you from a life of true happiness, prosperity, and unfettered bliss.
I've got news for those preachers and authors--Jesus didn't die to make us happy. We in the church love to quote the verse from John 15 when Jesus tells the disciples his joy will be "in you" and will be "complete" (John 15:11). The problem is we've confused the joy that Jesus gives with worldly happiness. We fail to remember that moments later Jesus tells that very same crowd they are going to be hated and persecuted by the world (John 15:18-20). How can their joy be complete if they're going to know such hatred and persecution?
There's an important truth we in the church need to recapture--there is a big difference between happiness and joy. Happiness is momentary, fleeting...fickle. It's rooted in our circumstances, in what surrounds us at any given moment. But joy is something else entirely. It's not rooted in what's around us, it's rooted in what's in us--the very presence of God. The Comforter and Counselor Jesus himself promised in that same discourse to his disciples--the Holy Spirit--is the true source of our joy.
That's a real comfort to me in these difficult times, because it reminds me that my "best life" is not dependent on my circumstances--that the joy God would have me experience has less to do with what he does in my world, and more to do with what he does in my heart.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
What is Peace?
My wife loves to tell the story of a wealthy businessman who once commissioned two artists to paint something which best depicted peace.
The first artist painted a beautiful landscape of the countryside on a warm spring day. A cloudless sky, a picturesque farm house, soft sunlight on rolling hills...A farmer walked behind strong plow horses making his field ready for planting, while the cattle grazed peacefully. Everyone who looked upon the painting agreed: it was a great depiction of peace.
The second artist painted a majestic, rugged cliff. Gnarled trees, twisted by years of violent winds, jutted from the craggy mountainside. Dark and threatening clouds hung low and fierce, while jagged streaks of lightning slashed across the angry sky. The painting was a picture of violence, chaos, and rage.
The businessman was confused. "This is peace?" he thought.
But as he continued to look at this unsettling painting, he noticed something. There, in one of the crevices of the rocky mountain, tucked back just out of reach of the wind and rain-- was a nest with two tiny birds. Undisturbed by the raging storm, the little birds looked peaceful and calm as they waited for the turbulence to pass.
The world defines peace as "absence of conflict." But that's not how the Bible describes peace. Jesus promised we would know tribulation in this life--Christians are not given a "Get Out of Difficulty Free" card. But he also promised us his peace:
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."--John 14:27
The peace of Christ is not the peace of the world, it's not the absence of conflict. It's the peace of knowing that as hard as the winds blow, as loud as the thunder is, as turbulent as the storm may be...he gives us a "nesting place" in the midst of it all.
The first artist painted a beautiful landscape of the countryside on a warm spring day. A cloudless sky, a picturesque farm house, soft sunlight on rolling hills...A farmer walked behind strong plow horses making his field ready for planting, while the cattle grazed peacefully. Everyone who looked upon the painting agreed: it was a great depiction of peace.
The second artist painted a majestic, rugged cliff. Gnarled trees, twisted by years of violent winds, jutted from the craggy mountainside. Dark and threatening clouds hung low and fierce, while jagged streaks of lightning slashed across the angry sky. The painting was a picture of violence, chaos, and rage.
The businessman was confused. "This is peace?" he thought.
But as he continued to look at this unsettling painting, he noticed something. There, in one of the crevices of the rocky mountain, tucked back just out of reach of the wind and rain-- was a nest with two tiny birds. Undisturbed by the raging storm, the little birds looked peaceful and calm as they waited for the turbulence to pass.
The world defines peace as "absence of conflict." But that's not how the Bible describes peace. Jesus promised we would know tribulation in this life--Christians are not given a "Get Out of Difficulty Free" card. But he also promised us his peace:
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."--John 14:27
The peace of Christ is not the peace of the world, it's not the absence of conflict. It's the peace of knowing that as hard as the winds blow, as loud as the thunder is, as turbulent as the storm may be...he gives us a "nesting place" in the midst of it all.
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