Showing posts with label living Christianly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label living Christianly. Show all posts

Monday, February 23, 2009

Real Sex

Lauren Winner, author of Girl Meets God and recently, Mudhouse Sabbath, put out a book in 2005 titled, Real Sex: The Naked Truth about Chastity. And that’s exactly what Winner designs to do: talk about sex in a realistic fashion, from a biblical worldview, that allows us to get past various myths, including the highly eroticized and romanticized beliefs on sex we frequently absorb from both the world and the church.

You’re familiar, no doubt, with the statistics on Christian sexuality. We don’t stand out as very different in our sexual behavior, which means our basic beliefs and ideas about sex must not be that different either. If all those books in the “Christian living” section of the bookstore aren’t helping us develop ideas regarding our sexuality that differ from social norms; if they aren’t helping us believe that what the Bible has to say about sex is relevant and true, something isn’t right. So what makes Winner different? Real Sex offers an alternative to the magazine-like “Seven Secrets to Sexual Purity” by stretching beyond spoon-fed “dos and don’ts” derived from proof-texting Scripture, and instead, presents the case for sex within marriage from a holistic, biblical view of who we are and how we relate in the world sexually.

From the creation-fall-redemption narrative presented in the Arc of the Gospel, Winner posits an important part of who we are is that we are embodied, and the main way in which we relate in the world sexually is communal. Chapter three is aptly titled, “Communal Sex: Or, Why Your Neighbor Has Any Business Asking You What You Did Last Night,” and helps remind us that community is a part of the creational order; we were created in and for community. And though we have fallen from God’s original order for creation, he has, throughout history, made a way for his people to live redeemed, creational lives. When Jesus Christ came embodied to earth, he came as the Way, finally making it possible for those who believe to no longer live under compulsion of the fallen, distorted patterns of the flesh, but rather in habits redeemed and restored to God’s creational intent. Winner reminds us that Scripture flies in the face of our over-individualized, over-privatized American way, exhorting the community of the faith to be intimately involved in one another’s lives. She puts it this way:


… the Bible tells us to intrude – or rather, the Bible tells us that talking to one another about what is really going on in our lives is in fact not an intrusion at all, because what’s going on in my life is already your concern; by dint of the baptism that made me your sister, my joys are your joys and my crises are your crises. We are called to speak to one another lovingly, to be sure, and with edifying, rather than gossipy or hurtful, goals. But we are called nonetheless to transform seemingly private matters into communal matters. (53)
Already we’re presented with a meaty alternative to the false views of sex, or we could say, unreal sex propagated in force by our surrounding culture. The next two chapters speak truth against the lies about sex we hear both from our culture, and some of our churches. These chapters give readers an opportunity to take a step outside of their everyday, cultural surroundings and consider them. An interesting untruth presented to us by our culture we may not have yet considered is that “sex can be wholly separated from procreation” (64). Only a person living in a cave could miss the church’s view on abortion; however, the debate on contraception isn’t quite as clear-cut. Nonetheless, one issue concerning the topic that should be clear-cut is the issue of God’s ultimate control and our joyful, even if also painful, submission. Put more clearly,


…if contraception invites us to be carefree [a potential benefit], it also encourages us to be people who think we can control and schedule everything, including the creation of our families, down to the month, down to the week. And, most important, it invites us to be people who have utterly separated sex from procreation. (65)
Why is this a danger? Well, for one, the connection between sex and making babies keeps us from being wholly wrapped up in ourselves as lovers (66); it returns sex and marriage to its communal orientation. Real sex is always open, in a general sense, to the possibility of children (67), and understands that possibility as a part of God’s good creational plan.

Opening up the conversation of sex and our sexuality to the whole of Scripture and to our Christian communities is like opening the windows of a dark room. By this light we see other lies our culture tells about sex, and we can work together to begin rejecting such ideologies, establishing a core understanding of human sexuality that, in fact, stands apart; we can develop beliefs and habits of a sacred sexuality. Winner points out that society tells lies like cohabitation is a good practice-run (68), modesty doesn’t matter (71), and “good sex can’t happen in the humdrum routine of marriage” (77).

Of those three statements, which strikes you as most dangerous? We might think it’s the prolific idea of shacking up; and in fact, the church is usually pretty clear on its position regarding premarital sex and modest dress; however, I would like to suggest that a subtle distortion is always more dangerous than an obvious one. Winner agrees; she states,


Too often we assume that contemporary American sexual life is a one-dimensional world of licentious prurience. Yet it may be more important for contemporary Christian ethics to constructively engage secular romanticism than to righteously denounce sexual libertinism. It is, after all, pretty easy for us Christians to distinguish ourselves from the sex-is-recreation ethic. The real question is not whether we can counter the message that sex is just like racquetball, but whether we can also articulate a Christian alternative to the regnant ideal of sex as an otherworldly, illicit romance, an escape from quotidian, domestic life. (80)
Sex isn’t meaningful because it’s an erotic escape from everyday realities. Rather, sex is meaningful because it’s real (81). And while romance is certainly appropriate, even important, as part of sustaining love, if it serves merely to compartmentalize our lives rather than integrate them, our lives will be less, not more, fulfilling.

This next chapter is perhaps where we get a bit more personal: “Straight Talk II: Lies the Church Tells about Sex.” In an effort to do right and protect the biblical ethic of sex within marriage, and with honorable intentions, “the church tells a few fibs of its own” (85). Winner chooses to discuss four of these fibs: “premarital sex is guaranteed to make you feel lousy” (85), “women don’t really want to have sex anyway” (90), “bodies (and sex) are gross, dirty, or just plain unimportant” (93), and finally, if we’ve gotten over Gnosticism, now we’re obsessed with technique (97), as obsessed as our secular counterparts.

I can’t talk about all of these ideas (and I wouldn’t want to give away the whole book!), but I want to address a couple of them. I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Doesn’t premarital sex make you feel lousy, full of guilt and regret? And if it doesn’t, shouldn’t it?” It’s possible there’s more truth in the second thought than the first one, because let’s face it, sex feels good, even sinful sex. If it didn’t, premarital sex would certainly be a lot easier to avoid. We wouldn’t need Winner’s book or any other book, not to mention the community of faith, the Bible, or the Holy Spirit for that matter –– at least, not insofar as we need them for our journey toward right-living (89). “What the church means to say,” posits Winner, “is that premarital sex is bad for us, even if it happens to feel great” (90).

But at least we’ve come to recognize that sex in marriage feels great and should feel great. And while it seems we may never be able to fully shake Gnostic parasites from the Gospel, I believe churches have generally come to embrace marital sex as good. However, the message from the pulpit can still be a bit confusing, especially for women. Winner notes a study of teenage girls which shows the “strongest predictor of teenage virginity” isn’t church involvement or the youth group, but team sports (18). That may seem obscure, but athletics teaches girls (and boys) something about bodies being good –– and useful for other purposes than sex. This is a message we aren't communicating well.

So what should we do? Have more church sports leagues? Maybe... but perhaps not. We can, however, begin to change the way we talk about sex and modesty. Personally, as a woman who grew up constantly hearing from youth group and other para-church media that my body was the vehicle of lust and destruction for young men everywhere, it took lots of time to unlearn negative associations about my body and become comfortable in my own skin, though perhaps less time than others; I played sports. This language isn’t only damaging to women. To suggest that men simply can’t help themselves is to suggest that men are less than human, or that they can experience the fruit of the Spirit in all areas but lust. It is essentially degrading to men to imply that men are animals and women are angels, that somehow women are morally superior to men, and therefore responsible for them (73). Certainly we are responsible to one another as brothers and sisters, but responsible for is another thing entirely.

The last few chapters of Winner’s book touch on topics such as kissing, pornography, and masturbation, and dish out practical, and I think rather good and helpful, ideas to guide us in practicing chastity within our caring, Christian communities. Winner reunites chastity with the other spiritual disciplines, and talks about what marriage, children, sex, and singleness teach the church, why each is important in God’s economy, an economy of repentance and forgiveness. Placing sexual purity back within a story that’s bigger than itself makes the issue of chastity important, rather than indifferent, and gives it meaning by giving it context.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Living Apocalypse


Greg Laughery is the director of L'Abri Fellowship, a small English-speaking community nuzzled in the breathtaking Swiss Alps. It is a shelter and a home away from home for many, myself included. I spent the past year living and working at L'Abri and had the privilege to co-edit Dr. Laughery's latest book, Living Apocalypse. As a commentary on the book of Revelation, Living Apocalypse is highly accessible. It is not a book for the Bible scholar alone, although Bible scholars will not be bored. This commentary is beneficial to all. It is a relevant-to-life commentary, hence the title, but it isn't soft; it doesn't sacrifice hermeneutics.

If you find the book of Revelation intimidating or irrelevant, I encourage you to pick up Living Apocalypse and read it side-by-side with the text. Laughery helps his reader digest the biblical text passage by passage by providing the mainstream interpretations as well as his professional assessments. The symbolism in Revelation is perhaps what makes the text so highly difficult, which is why I find this book highly helpful. Laughery does an excellent job putting the Apostle's word-pictures into perspective by providing the historical context of John's time, the escatalogical application based upon the hermeneutic of the entire book, indeed the whole of Scripture, and the significance the text has for our everyday living.

It is this idea, aptly expressed by the title, that I like most about this book. The word 'living' serves both as an adjective and a verb. The Apostle John's Apocalypse is a living revelation, and as such, those who have been born again by and in the Word respond to his word by living it. Laughery encourages his readers that the book of Revelation is relevant to how we live our lives now. Again, this is what I find most valuable and most singular about Living Apocalypse. Greg Laughery's deep, genuine love and care for people is not only evident in his many years of service at L'Abri, it also manifests itself in his books. Living Apocalypse goes above and beyond the call of most commentaries by engaging the heart, as well as the mind. It connects the heart of the text to the heart of the reader, and thereby the heart of the reader to the heart of God -- having at its heart, a cyclical growth in mind.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Dangerous Wonder


Michael Yaconelli, or Mike as he likes to be called, is an unpretentious pastor of a small church in northern California who grew up under the oppression of legalism and has been fighting his way out since. He is the author of one of my all time favorite books, Messy Spirituality. Dangerous Wonder was written as somewhat of a followup, so I had to get my hands on it.

It would be years after I first bought Dangerous Wonder before I picked it up again to read it. Books do that to me. After waiting patiently among my other books for just the right time, they begin calling out to me. Sometimes in subtle ways through other things I'm reading or listening to; sometimes more directly and immediately as I stand before my bookshelf waiting and listening -- this is how it was with Dangerous Wonder, and when I took it from the shelf and sat down to read it, I finished it a few days later.

I enjoyed this inquiry into the "adventure of childlike faith." Yaconelli is honest and accessible, and in this book he uncovers the beauty of childlikeness: raw wonder, honest curiosity, wide-eyed listening, playfulness, passion, naive grace, and joy-filled terror.

Yaconelli desires to pull out all the stops; any encumbrance between his reader and childlikeness he wishes to remove, and as a result, you will find yourself (some of you more frequently than others) thinking, "But..." The author is prepared for this and addresses it outright with statements from time to time such as, "You might be saying to yourself, 'Wait a minute. You're not actually suggesting that I...'" (my paraphrase). And in response he says, "Go ahead, live irresponsibly! Forget about what is sensible, responsible and prudent and rediscover the childlike passion of falling in love with God" (118).

Though Yaconelli doesn't directly say it, it is this relationship with Christ that allows us to be irresponsible and yet thoughtful of the other. As I see it, such behavior is not irresponsibility; rather it is true responsibility, true responsiveness. In Christ we have a higher responsibility to God and man. Dangerous Wonder comes off as extreme and one-sided for this lack of emphasis on renewing what we think these ideas mean and because he ignores the person-relative aspect of living -- that is to say, the ways in which we draw such lines differently based on personality and personal history. And sometimes we need to be challenged to redraw those lines so that our framework encompasses more of what it means to live (abundantly), but other times our different boundaries are a beautiful part of our need for community in the body of Christ. Or possibly, these paths are not within the scope of this book. At any rate, I do not get the impression that Yaconelli misunderstands these aspects of the abundant life of childlike faith. In his soul he knows, even if perhaps immediate consciousness (what he would think to say right off) hasn't caught up to the deep knowledge.

Most importantly however, I think this is a valuable book. Childlikeness is essential, and it's beautiful. It's highly important to my generation's quest for authenticity because it is authentic. Dangerous Wonder is a challenge to its reader to develop inward sincerity through the liberating work of Christ's transformative way of being. Otherwise it is difficult, perhaps impossible to even know what to look for in an outward search for what's 'real' because we don't know what 'real' looks like. And certainly encountering the genuine happens from both external and internal authenticity; sometimes we do bump into reality unawares, but we recognize and respond to it because of the childlikeness hidden in our being. Furthermore, we come to recognize it more and more clearly as we engage in the lifelong process of Christ's redemptive work, the removal of the stain of our childishness to reveal our new self in Christ, our true self.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Loves Me Loves Me Not



I just realized that I typed out a post for this long ago and never actually posted it. The reason being that the book is so very good and provokes much thought in so many directions I was having a hard time feeling satisfied with what I had written. I still feel as though something is missing, but perhaps you all could help me out with that. I would love to hear from you.
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I really appreciate and highly recommend Loves Me, Loves Me Not: The Ethics of Unrequited Love by Laura Smit. Right away, the subtitle lets you know this book is special because while there are countless books on mutual love and our moral responsibilities as Christian lovers, no one writes about our responsibility towards virtue when feelings are not mutual. Smit begins with a “theology of romance” in which she details God’s nature (as love), God’s creational plan (Eden), God’s plan for the new creation (New Earth), sin’s effect on those plans, and finally, virtuous and vicious romance – that is, how sin twists God’s intentions for love and how we can be virtuous by shaping our romantic lives to God’s plans (primarily for the new earth). Smit has some very powerful exhortations for the church that I appreciate on two levels: one, she forces readers to think seriously about New Testament teachings on marriage, family, and singleness (something I’ve been successfully avoiding up to now) and two, she gives singles in the church a voice.
If we believe that it is no longer the nation of Israel but the Church in Christ who is now the elect among the world through whom God chooses to reveal himself to the world, what are the familial implications of this new kingdom? Smit comments on the importance of pouring a new kingdom understanding of marriage and family into new wineskins:
Our primary loyalties shift when we come into contact with Jesus. Whereas in the Old Testament the family was one’s primary loyalty [for procreation was the means by which the message of God through his people propagated], Jesus redefines this, saying, “Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother” (Matt. 12:50). Jesus is our family now and the community of faith is our primary social commitment. “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son and daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 10:37-39). Jesus insists that his followers live sacrificial lives that will make little sense in the eyes of the world. (65)
So, what are the implications? Think for a moment about the political implications for the Religious Right. Not that marriage and family concerns would cease to exist, but would rather exist within a broader context, under a farther-reaching banner. Smit plays with the possible implications a bit; she says,
… if all Christians everywhere were to take this teaching seriously, stop getting married, and stop having children, perhaps the church would start to grow through evangelism rather than through procreation. In this case, the church would be a blessing to the nations, just as we are supposed to be, with most of our nurturing energy going outside our own community. Finally, if we actually converted everyone in the world, and everyone in the world then embraced continent singleness so that no children were being born (a rather unlikely scenario), wouldn’t that mean it was time for Jesus to come again? All Christians are supposed to be longing for his second coming and doing everything possible to bring it about. (71)
Wow! What a thought, eh? Don’t worry, right after that she says,
I do not believe that all Christians need to be single, but all Christians must come to terms with Jesus’ teaching that marriage is not ultimate. Taking the teaching seriously will change how we think about the possibility of marriage in our own life and how we treat people around us – particularly within the church – who are single.(71)
Smit never once devalues marriage and family -- particularly within the church.
But I stray a bit. The meat of the book focuses on how to behave virtuously in loving someone who does not return your romantic love, as well as being virtuous towards someone who cares romantically for you, when you desire only friendship for him or her. Smit encourages her readers to consider true Christian charity in these situations and whether or not charity supports or rejects society's scripts for such roles. From films and literature alike we know how to behave if we find our love rejected, especially if the one in this position is male. He will hold on to his rejected love in one way or another by continuing to pursue until resignation is absolutely necessary; in which case, he must martyr himself upon the cross of love, sometimes quite literally, leaving his legacy behind on the suicide note. As women, we are to move on. It is his loss, and undoubtedly there is someone out there who is more deserving of ourselves. And certainly both can be true: sometimes we ought to continue to pursue and not give up too quickly; sometimes our love is misplaced upon someone undeserving and we must recognize the fact and move on.
But motives matter. That is Smit's point. I do think she errs a bit in overcorrecting: if society prescribes one mode of behavior which is supposedly appropriate for every case of unrequited love, Smit does too in some ways. However, her exhortation to consider what motivates our behavior is key. Are we responding lovingly or selfishly? And while motives cannot be wholly separated or distinguished, I am convinced that an honest observation of our unbalanced scales is quite enough to make an accurate judgment. For myself, honest observation into my heart nearly always requires the eyes of a faith-full friend.
So, if my review has sparked your interest, and if you want the specific, and I think rather good suggestions Smit makes as to how we can pursue loving virtue in our relationships, buy the book.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Real Sex


I'm beginning to be a big fan of Lauren Winner in general, from her books to her articles to her lectures. This is a fun one! From the title alone, you can get a glimpse of Winner's wit and ability to engage her reader. Take a quick look at some of her chapter titles:

1. Unchaste Confessions:
Or Why We Need Another Book about Sex

Part One: Talking About Sex
2. Real Sex:
Creation, Scripture, and the Case for Sex in Marriage
3. Communal Sex:
Or, Why Your Neighbor Has Any Business Asking You What You Did Last Night
4. Straight Talk I:
Lies Our Culture Tells about Sex
5. Straight Talk II:
Lies the Church Tells about Sex

In part two Winner gets practical and talks about the discipline of chaste living and what that looks like both on the individual and communal level. She gives some examples from her own life of the difficulties and the benefits of this discipline, which I appreciate -- it's another way she reaches her reader.
Chapters three through five are my favorites. I think the content in these chapters is what separates this book from other Christian books on chastity. Winner talks about community in relation to sex in a way that I haven't seen before, and she gives her reader the tools necessary for discovering the song of sex as a part of the immense beauty which emenates from the heartstrings of God by blocking the constant noise put out by our culture and Christian subculture.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Letters to Malcom

Wow! This is a tiny book that's packed with huge thoughts on the mysteries and workings of prayer. When Jasie first handed it to me I thought, 'Good. I should be able to finish this in a few days and keep trucking.' Wrong. It took me a long time. Of course, I was reading it along side of something else, but still. I just wasn't expecting it to be so heady. (It's Lewis on prayer. I don't know why I thought it would be a cake walk.)

Throughout the book Lewis makes these small, effortless statements that made me put the book down, take off my glasses, rub my forehead and stare out the window off into the mountains thinking, 'What in the world does that mean?' Or, 'There are so many implications connected to that simple statement.' And my head would begin racing (or just hurting).

Lewis comes at prayer from a base of God's immutable timelessness. So in order to agree with him on some of his thoughts on prayer, it may be important to agree with him on that aspect of God's character. (See also my entry on Terrance Tiessen's Providence & Prayer.)

What I appreciate most in Letters to Malcolm are Lewis's insights, or what he calls "festoonings" concerning the Lord's Prayer. This I found to be very practical for the ways in which Lewis applies Christ's instructions on prayer to his life: What does it mean to pray, "Thy Kingdom come," and, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors"?

I'm a fan of Lewis, and I enjoyed his mind-stretching commentary on prayer. It is encouraging that a mind like C.S. Lewis finds prayer to be just as mysterious as I do.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Eat This Book

Peterson has some thought-provoking ideas in this book. I particularly appreciate his insights on Western individualism and professionalism. Peterson quotes G.K. Chesterton who satirizes the situation in his book, Heretics, saying, "Once men sang together round a table in chorus; now one man sings alone, for the absurd reason that he can sing better. If scientific civilization goes on (which is most improbable) only one man will laugh, because he can laugh better than the rest." We do this with our spiritual lives sometimes, don't we? The youth pastor is responsible for my kids' spiritual growth... the leader of my Bible study is the one on whom I rely to do all the Bible study and then pass it on to me... the head pastor is the expert I trust to tell me what to think...

You may not go quite that far, but you probably know people who do. And it's something prevalent enough to warrant addressing it -- Since this is a pervasive way of thinking in my culture, has it crept into the way I think? Is professionalism all bad? How do we resist the ways it is unhealthy?

I think Peterson swings a bit too far on the pendulum in reaction against the ideology of professionalism, particularly as he suggests everyone can be an exegete, which to some degree may be true. But there are trained, or professional, exegetes upon whom we should rely for help in our Bible study efforts. However, Peterson is right. If we think, 'I have a job and a family and don't have time to study the Scriptures, but studying the Scriptures is the job of the pastor...' That's not a good place for us to be.

Peterson also encourages us to develop a "hermeneutic of adoration" and draws our attention to Paul Ricoeur:

Paul Ricoeur has wonderful counsel for people like us. Go ahead, he says, maintain and practice your hermeneutics of suspicion. It is important to do this. Not only important, it is necessary... But then reenter the book, the world, with what he calls 'a second naivete.' Look at the world with childlike wonder, ready to be startled into surprised delight by the profuse abundance of truth and beauty and goodness that is spilling out of the skies at every moment. Cultivate a hermeneutics of adoration -- see how large, how splendid, how magnificent life is.

Overall, I appreciate this book and hope it provides encouragement and inspiration for those wondering if personal Bible study, specifically exegesis, is possible and how to begin.