Visiting a Harlot

This is something you can't blog about everyday...

Today is the end of an era of sorts. Today I, Robbymac, had approximately 18+ inches of hair cut off. I now look like every other middle-aged 40-something in Winnipeg. Except that I still play bass in bar bands. Oh, and let's not forget the multiple earrings.

No tattoos, however, because me and needles are old enemies, and I can't for the life of me think of why I should pay hard-earned money for some crackhead to stick me repeatedly with bloody little needles filled with ink.

The guy who cut my hair, it turns out, is a member of the local Winnipeg band The Harlots. We had a great time, while he gave me a totally new look, shooting the breeze about the Winnipeg club scene, touring, etc., because I've heard of his band, and he's heard of mine, too. Actually, everybody in that place (the staff) looked like they probably moonlight in a band somewhere -- it reminded me a lot of Hollywood.

So, I can honestly say that to celebrate the momentus event (for those who've known me since high school) of getting my hair cut short, I visited a Harlot.

They're probably still sweeping up all the hair I left behind (and I don't suddenly feel weak or anything...)

Alternative "Tough Love" Discipline

I'm not advocating this! My sister sent this to me this morning (NOTE: she doesn't advocate this either).

I showed it to my family during lunch today, and they all thought it was absolutely hilarious, and the youngest two siblings immediately started making mental lists of people they know in the neighbourhood who might benefit from this approach (theoretically & hypothetically, of course).

The original pic (much larger than this one) has the "Your Speed Is:" indicator clearly reading "99", which prompted Wendy to point out that the physics of this photo are all wrong.

"At that speed, the kid would be plastered against the windshield," Wendy announces.

Oh, well, now that's a relief!

Prophet of Old

I found a CD re-release of Larry Norman's classic "raw" live album a couple of days ago (which I promptly bought, naturally), and it's great to hear a decidedly non-commercially friendly, but very passionate, album from a guy who had a HUGE influence on my early days as a Christian teenager.

Larry has always been an iconoclast -- "too rock 'n' roll for the Christians, and too Christian for the rock 'n' rollers", somebody once said. I've always admired him and been challenged by his no-holds-barred approach to both music and speaking out prophetically to the culture (and church culture) around him.

Here's some snippets from the liner notes of "Roll Away The Stone (and Listen to the Rock)":

"So while you're listening to this album, keep in mind that a lot has changed in the last 25 years. This is a concert by an artist who was angry at the music industry for cranking out gospel disco, gospel exercise records like Firm Believer and tepid radio-ready music which perpetuated mediocrity...

"Suddenly... limp gospel disco was the preferred musical style, and Larry was labelled as being too controversial... Christian music was scrubbed clean of the smudge and soil of the street ministries. It was hypo-allergenically sterile and consumable for the masses. Forget the visionary statements of the individuals... Mass marketing was what counted the most... 'The Merchants of Vinyl', Larry named them. 'These are the whores of the new Babylon...'

"Gospel companies were becoming part of the Borg Collective and Larry wanted nothing to do with that mentality. He could make a lot of money and be respected within the gospel music community or he could follow Jesus. At least that's the way he saw it."

Agree with him or not (and I don't always, myself), I admire someone who has thought through his beliefs, and stands up for them, even if it costs him.

Good on ya, Larry.

No, really...

It only looks like I'm ignoring my blog. Really, I'm not. Okay, maybe I haven't posted for a few days, but that doesn't mean that anyone should assume that the Rapture has happened and I'm off wondering why most of us are still here...

Reasons/Excuses for lack of blogging:

1. I'm not working just now because my recent job in a warehouse has resulted in damage to my left arm (tendons, primarily) that has me off work for at least a few months, while some nice physiotherapists work their voodoo on my arm.
   
   
2. Both of our vehicles died within days of each other, so we've been either
   • hitching rides with friends,
   • taking the bus,
   • walking,
   • or cleaning the junk out of our basement (might as well...)
   
   
3. It's the end-of-year blitz for our kids; soccer has started and everything else has recitals, concerts, or exams attached to it. Now I know why people have those "Soccer Ate My Life" bumperstickers...

My eldest daughter spent the weekend at a Pentecostal youth conference (Wendy traded her services as a photographer for free tickets for Jordan and a friend), and she came back excited to discover that "there's so many of us!" -- she is one of two Christians that she knows of at her high school. The sight of almost two thousand Christian teenagers, from a variety of denominations, worshipping together at the UofW campus was really encouraging for her.

So, we're busy with "life-happens" stuff like reduced income, physiotherapy, and trying to save up money to fix our vehicles, but also grateful for "life-giving" stuff like a youth conference that encourages my daughter in her faith.

See? It's all good. And I even blogged about it.

Casualties of Pomergent

It's been said in other places, by people far smarter than me, but I can still see it for myself as well -- postmodernism is no more faith-friendly than modernism. The problems with (the uncritical, wholesale capitulation to) a modernistic version of Christianity are different than the problems of (the uncritical, wholesale capitulation to) a postmodern version of Christianity, but one thing they have in common is that both are ultimately foreign territory to Christianity.

The first casualty of pomergent people could be evangelism. This is not a sweeping generalization of condemnation -- it's meant to be a caution of a potential trap that seems to be lurking about. Pomergent's generally admirable sense of rediscovering the depth of a personal walk with Jesus, as found in many web & blog sites' inclusion of "vespers" and "lauds", and ancient creeds as theological markers, can also be indicative of a self-absorbed, individualistic approach to the faith.

Community is important, no question there, but a potential trap is that our focus on creating authentic community, with emphasis on the spiritual disciplines and the ancient/future nature of our faith walk, could (unintentionally, to be sure) become 'busy-work' that we immerse ourselves in and fail to notice that outside of our little Christian communities, we haven't had much impact or possibly even much interaction.

This would make us acceptable in a postmodern society, where "tolerance" is held as one of the highest values (ie. no-one can claim that their way is the 'right' way -- the 'incredulity towards metanarratives' that Lyotard is famously quoted for). Something that many pomergent Christians have in common with the modernistic Christians they want to distance themselves from, is that both want to be 'cool' in the eyes of everyone -- so any claims to a metanarrative as being Truth (with a capital "T") are avoided.

Generally, I think it's good that we all avoid the attitude of some smug, self-righteous, know-it-all Christians; such an attitude is foreign to the Gospel. However, if pomergent people and communities are unwilling to state that they believe that the Bible holds a true metanarrative -- that God is actually in control and it matters how we relate to Him -- it would be a fair question to ask, as Jesus does in Matthew 5:13, "...if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?".

It's potentially a problem for all of us, and while our individual answers and reactions to this will vary, the question the Jesus asks is one pomergent people dare not avoid grappling with.

God/Rush

The first time I heard these songs, I was struck by how much they challenged me in my journey of following Jesus. Both are from the "Farewell To Kings" album by Rush. Years later, I am still struck by how profound and prophetic the lyrics are.

A Farewell to Kings

When they turn the pages of history
When these days have passed long ago
Will they read of us with sadness
For the seeds that we let grow?
We turned our gaze
From the castles in the distance
Eyes cast down
On the path of least resistance

The hypocrites are slandering
The sacred halls of Truth
Ancient nobles showering
Their bitterness on youth
Can't we find the minds that made us strong?
Can't we learn to feel what's right
And what's wrong?
What's wrong?

Cities full of hatred, fear and lies
Withered hearts and cruel, tormented eyes
Scheming demons dressed in kingly guise
Beating down the multitude and
Scoffing at the wise
Can we raise our eyes and make a start?
Can we find the minds to lead us
Closer to the Heart?

Closer To The Heart

And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones to start
To mould a new reality
Closer to the Heart

The blacksmith and the artist
Reflect it in their art
They forged their creativity
Closer to the Heart

Philosophers and ploughmen
Each must know his part
To sow a new mentality
Closer to the Heart

You can be the captain
And I will draw the chart
Sailing into destiny
Closer to the Heart

Changes

Blogger has added new features and templates, so everyone is doing housekeeping. I don't want to mess with the layout of this site (although I'd love to find out how to deep-six the banner ad at the top), but I've updated some links, anyway.

Mitch's deleting of his blog (see yesterday's post) prompted me to update the Journeymates. For the record, I don't always agree with everything that my Journeymates write, but I've put links to them because in general:

1. They update frequently, which is why some people have been removed from the list.
2. They actually interact with people in the "Comments", which not all bloggers do.
3. They may not agree with everyone's opinions, but they are respectful in their interaction with them, and "conversation", not "condemnation", is the result.

Christy at Dry Bones Dance is a thoughtful writer in Los Angeles, who deals a lot with social justice and issues surrounding racism & women in ministry. Missy at The Red Door is a pastor in the Church of the Nazarene in the American Mid-West. Karl at St. Stephen's Musings is an Eastern Orthodox convert who is asking and debating similar things to this blog, but from an EO point of view. Given our look at "tethering" into the Ancient Creeds, his input and knowledge is really helpful.

Chris wrote a comment yesterday poking fun at the evil weather that we are currently gaining martydom points for here in Winnipeg. This provides a great segue to post a picture of Chris & I leading worship together at Eastgate Vineyard in Winnipeg, back in March (she's the cute blonde, I'm the old fart with the red guitar & ponytail). The deja vu part is that Chris & I last co-led worship at Eastgate Vineyard in Victoria back in 1997. Small, surreal world, eh?

He did it...

Mitch Tulloch has been saying he would delete his blog, and he's done it. So, I've updated my Journeymates accordingly. Mitch said that it was time to let the blog go, mainly because he really felt God was telling him to put it in the digital grave, and Mitch is one of those crazy guys that tries to be obedient to stuff that God is showing him.

Before he signed off, Mitch left me this encouraging note in his last blog entry:

"I've found that most of the issues being hotly debated these days in so-called Christian blogging circles simply don't interest me, and my few attempts at participating in such discussions have generally been dissatisfying and often frustrating. One notable exception has been Robbymac, whose blog has become a helpful nexus for discussing various issues facing the church today while maintaining humility, restraint, and a refreshing sense of humor."

Thanks, Mitch, and I look forward to your promised ongoing interaction on this blog!

Spring?

Today is May 11, 2004. I'll say it again: MAY 11!! Yet this is the sight that greeted us this morning in our fair city. It's apparently supposed to continue all day, all night, and all tomorrow. Thursday is supposed to be splendiferous once more. Mother's Day was 26C (79F), sunny, and for the first time in 2004, the breeze was warm. We all got our hopes up that summer was just around the corner, and then... How long, oh Lord?

Chain Letters from the Dalai Lama

The drummer in our band sent me a Dalai Lama instant-kharma chain letter this morning. Generally, I leave my kharmic journey to God's discretion, but this one line from the letter I thought was appropriate to the discussion in the "Tethered to what?" and "Brain Freeze" posts.

Brain Freeze

Check out the comments (30 as of this moment) in the "Tethered to what?" post from May 4. There are some heavy thinkers weighing in!

Perhaps this isn't earth-shattering news, but the main thrust of the initial comments is centered around "epistemology" (on what basis do we claim that what we believe is true?).

Postmoderns have generally, as Jean-Francois Lyotard wrote a few years back, shown an "incredulity towards legitimizing meta-narratives". Which being translated, means that postmodern people are suspicious of any philosophy or religion that claims to have the "Truth" -- which is why, as Karl Thienes and Mitch Tulloch have repeatedly presented, epistemology is a good place to start.

On the other hand, Mark Humphries also points out:

"Our understanding of the historical faith is held together through several strands, namely scripture, historical teachings, the Holy Spirit and any community truly interacting with the gospel...

"One last thought: Let's just admit this is by faith and not some indestructible foundation of knowledge (emphasis added)."

Before anyone gets brain freeze from reading this or the many comments, let's not neglect the original questions of the "Tethered..." post: what are the 'fundamentals', or 'core beliefs' and where are the boundaries in re-imagining (not necessarily re-defining) how we communicate these beliefs?

Anniversary

(Forced into the tune and metre of the traditional "Happy Birthday" ditty) Happy anniversary to us, happy anniversary to us...

Wendy & I are celebrating nineteen years of marriage today!

And the cliches are absolutely true:

• Time does fly, and
• Marriage, like fine wine, only gets better with age.

Tethered to what?

Amy asks a good question in the comments to yesterday's post: "What's up with the 'Christians can be such jerks' posts lately?"

I posted the previous two entries quite deliberately, to make this point extremely clear:

Fundamentalism is the not the cultural model of Christianity that I want anything to do with.

At the same time, when you look at the history of fundamentalism, at one time they were the people standing for the truth of the Bible against a growing movement of people "demythologizing" the Bible -- meaning that all the miraculous stuff like the virgin birth, feeding five thousand, healings, exorcisms, and yes, even the resurrection of Jesus, were considered "unscientific" and therefore mythological.

What fundamentalism became -- an extremely conservative, legalistic, more-separate-than-thou subcultural phenomenon -- came later. At the outset, these were the people saying - loud and clear - that the Bible was actually telling the truth.

In this increasingly post-modern era, there has been a lot of talk about "post-evangelical" and "emerging" theology. Several people have even suggested that I do some writing on "post-charismatic theology" (which I am planning to do, but only after much more research from a wide variety of sources).

Some people are horrified that postmodern, emergent people (or "pomergent" as Mitch has suggested -- which is a tongue-in-cheek label that I rather enjoy) are even thinking of deconstructing theology. As Justin pointed out in several conversations and over on his blog: "If a religion/church is to evolve and adapt offering furthering interpretations of doctrine, wouldn't that just dilute their doctrine?"

Charles Kraft offers a helpful suggestion in his classic missiological work, "Christianity in Culture: A Study in Dynamic Biblical Theologizing in Cross-Cultural Perspective": that we need to approach any cross-cultural contextualization of theology using the analogy of a "tether" -- a stake that is driven into the ground, to which we are tied. We are free to roam around the perimeter of area that the tether allows, but at some point, we reach the end of our theological chain which is a "thus far and no farther" marker, preventing us from falling into what Justin warns about.

So, not unlike the original fundamentalists, we have to nail down what constitutes the tether. Fundamentalists became known as such because of their insistence on "The Fundamentals" of the Christian faith. Whatever their cultural expression may have devolved into, their original intent was to define what was truly orthodox, historically in line with the traditions and teachings of the church, and would therefore represent the "thus far and no farther" of Christian theology.

So, keeping in mind from my last two posts that I'm not advocating Fundamentalism as we see it today, the question I am advancing for discussion is:

What are the 'fundamentals' today that will constitute the tether that will keep any pomergent deconstruction from wandering into error, irrelevance, or even rank heresy?

What are the absolute essentials of our faith, which transcend both modern and postmodern thinking (since neither is actually a friend of faith)?

What is the tether that allows us to re-imagine how we communicate beliefs that we hold as timeless in our current cultural milieu?

Brainwashing A La Carte

"There is no such thing as 'Christian' rock!"

She is sitting forward in her chair, glaring in self-righteous anger at me. Her boyfriend, who had been friendly to me until just now, was suddenly silent and watching me through narrowed eyes. All I had done was answer her question "what kind of band do you play in", and suddenly I was faced with the fundamentalist version of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. I was almost expecting her head to spin around.

Somewhat taken aback, as their other friends began circling like sharks anticipating a feeding frenzy, I tried reasoning with them.

"Is God the Creator of everything?"

They agreed.

"Can the devil create anything?"

Vehement disagreement. So far, so good.

"So, is God the Creator of music and the ability to play, write and enjoy music?"

Absolutely, they affirmed, heading nodding.

"Did St. Paul really say 'becoming all things to all people', and is that a reasonable approach for us for follow?"

Of course, they shrug impatiently.

"So, if the devil can't create anything (including musical styles), and God is the Creator of all (including music and our ability to write, perform & appreciate it), and St. Paul's example of 'becoming all things to all people' is one we should follow -- does it make sense that we can use rock music to reach people for the sake of Jesus?"

Absolutely, no question, whatever it takes to spread the Word.

"So, then it's okay to use Christian rock, after all."

She stiffens and bolts forward in her chair once more, eyes narrowing and expression contorting. Her boyfriend, and their shark-circle of friends, who had begun to relax during our dialogue, suddenly look all tense and judgmental once more. "There is no such thing as 'Christian' rock!!" she snarls, as her friends nod vigorously and triumphantly, as if they've just proven something.

Wow. Pavlov would'be loved this pre-programmed reaction to the catch-phrase 'Christian rock'. I can't be entirely certain, but I'm reasonably sure I heard the sound of a lynch mob forming, possibly ready to burn a heretic at the stake.

Two questions were foremost in my mind that night: (A) Why is it that I keep running into these kind of people, and (B) will I get out of here alive? I still don't know the answer to the first question, but the fact that I'm writing this -- 22 years later -- is proof of the answer to the second.

Run, Forest, Run!!

It was mid-March, and I was in grade twelve (twelfth grade, for any American visitors). I had been attending Burlington Alliance Church for most of that year, and would often have to take a bus or hitchhike (if I didn't have busfare) to get there.

On this particular night, it was cold and windy, and nobody seemed inclined to pick up a long-haired teenager with his thumb out. I was hoping to get to the evening service, but my watch alerted me to the reality that the service was just starting, and I was less than half-way there.

Then the rain started to fall.

Looking across Brant Street, I saw the tiny church building that had at one time been home to my parent's church. It was now a Baptist church -- "Miracle Baptist: the friendly church that cares!" the sign said. I reasoned to myself, "Baptists are Christians. Why don't I just drop in there for tonight, since I'm late for the Alliance and I'm nowhere near it anyway?" So I did.

WARNING: Culture shock ahead.

The interior of the church looked pretty much like I remembered it, but the people all looked like they'd parachuted in from early 1970's polyester world. The guys all had brylcreamed hairstyles straight out of the 50's, and they all seemed to have that wild-eyed, slightly inbred look.

It was hell-fire and brimstone night, complete with songs that threatened damnation for all, and a sermon that would have smoked just about anybody. Pretty intense. After the service, at the door, the pastor shook hands with everybody as they left. When my turn came (small doorway, I couldn't really sneak past and make a break for it), the pastor caught my hand in a death-grip, and asked my name.

When I told him, he continued to grasp my hand like some sort of ecclesiastical pit bull, and said, "Robby, are you SAY-ved?"

My brain translated: "He's asking if you're a follower of Jesus." So I replied, "Yes."

"Oh, but Robby," he said, continuing to crush my increasingly-numb hand, "are you REALLY SAY-ved?" (Interesting how he always got two syllables out of the word "saved" each time...)

"As opposed to what? Being partially saved?" I asked, bewildered.

He sighed. "I'll be blunt, Robby. No real Christian man has long hair. You have long hair. So, Biblically speaking, you're not a Christian. But you could become one tonight, if you're willing."

In the earnestness of his plea, he forgot to concentrate on crushing my hand, and I was able to pry it away from him. I don't remember what I said to him, but somehow I managed to escape.

As I started to walk home, I saw again the sign on the outside of the building: "Miracle Baptist: the friendly church that cares!"

Suddenly, the cold, the wind, and the rain didn't seem all that bad.