Wright begins this chapter with a penetrating parable. The parable clearly can be adapted to any era of humanity. I see it, however, as a critique of Modernism and its inadequacies: "The water that people needed would be brought to them by a complex system of pipes" (p.17). It eventually failed us. And now we are dealing with the angry mood of Postmodernism, as evidenced by deconstructionism and liberationist theology.
The springs that so freely expressed themselves, even making life uncomfortable at times, were paved over with concrete so thick, they were "silenced" (Ibid.). This was to mark a better life for the inhabitants, for "the water people needed would be brought to them by a complex system of pipes" (Ibid.).
Then he interprets this parable: We in the Western world are the citizens of that country, the dictator is the philosophy that has shaped our world for the last two or three centuries, and the water is our spirituality, the hidden spring that bubbles with our heart (p.18).
There has always been that hidden spring. Man has always tried to satisfy that groping for spirituality. And every system he has designed has failed.
Life in the premodern world created dissatisfaction. The modern world endeavored to meet the needs of the premodern, but it too faltered even though we have benefited greatly. Then along came the postmodern mindset, attempting to satisfy that groping for spirituality by its relativism.
So spirituality seeks to find escape and comfort from the concrete-thick world of modernism in postmodernism. Wright goes on to point out that globally, man everywhere has had to deal with the stifling of the hidden spring of spirituality by some form of concrete pavement.
But what makes us so thirsty is that voice that we hear. A voice that keeps beckoning us to a life of justice and love. Wright observes, "People who have been starved of water for a long time will drink anything, even if it is polluted" (p.25).
And because we have somehow been starved of water by the modern world, we plunge head first into the upset ocean of postmodernism, attempting to quench our thirst. But I think what we have discovered is not so pleasant. What we have discovered is now the bitter taste of skepticism in one form or the other (pp. 26, 27). By the way, I think the Emergent Community is a fitting example of this skepticism.
TC
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Chapter One: Putting the World to Rights
Welcome to this conversation between four friends over N. T. Wright’s latest book, Simply Christian. Each of us is a pastor in four different churches in Tehachapi, California. We four come from different traditions but share a common love of Christ, reverence for the Word, concern for the lost, and regard for the church which is bigger than any of our individual fellowships or denominational connections.
Each one, in succession, will take the lead in writing a reflection on a chapter in Wright’s book.
The other three will then “reflect upon the reflection,” adding insights, questions, or concerns that surface in the conversation. In sharing together we hope to gain from the wisdom and experience of one another. We invite you to read along and share your thoughts as well.
To begin:
In his introduction, N. T. Wright lets us know that he divides Simply Christian into three parts. Part One is an inductive exploration of common human experiences which Wright suggests points the human heart beyond itself to One Who Is There. Part Two discusses what believers believe about “the one true and living God” revealed in Jesus. Part Three explores what it means to follow Jesus.
It is evident in his style and tone that Wright seeks a conversation with thoughtful readers. He wants to include the honest, “postmodern,” secularist in an exploration of common life experiences. He is unapologetic in his Christian perspective and trusts the reader to grant him a little bit of time to draw him into an appreciation of the Christian witness to Truth.
Part One of the conversation engages us in a reflection upon common incongruities of life. He calls this section, “Echoes of a Voice,” as if the Creator has shouted an invitation into the fallen world that continues to reverberate through successive generations.
The first chapter encourages the reader to listen to that voice in the strains of the human longing for justice. He connects the broad tragedy of the 2004 tsunami with its vast carnage and devastation with the common moral problem of knowing the good, and yet lacking the power to do the good we know.
The ancient philosophers, not least Aristotle, saw this as a wrinkle in the
system, a puzzle at several levels. We all know what we ought to do (give or
take a few details); but we all manage, at least some of the time, not to
do it. (p. 6)
He uses a bit of understatement to good effect: “Isn’t this odd?” (p. 6) And then gets crystal clear, “…there is something badly wrong.” (p. 8)
This first chapter brings to light our common moral plight. I certainly track with him and easily bring Paul’s letter to the Romans into Wright’s reflection. Romans 1:22 points out how God is revealed in what He has made, even as an “echo” in the midst of human experience. Romans 3:23 is clear that all share in the moral problem the Bible calls sin. Romans 8:22 identifies the reality of a creation in turmoil. Truly, “there is something badly wrong.”
While Wright engages the thoughtful reader with this first echo, I can’t help but think that the deeper crisis of our time is the vast number of lost souls who never seem to reflect about their condition. The incongruities wrapped up in our longing for things to be set right I fear are beyond the grasp of most folks. People just don’t sit around thinking about those kinds of things.
Of course, the deeper problem is that many people just don’t sit around and think at all. Our culture has done a thorough job of focusing attention away from what might be true to an excessive concern for satiating endless desire. Like the botanical monster The Little Shop of Horrors we cry, “Feed me!” Like the voracious plant, the more we consume the more we demand. In my experience most people are simply scurrying. Too many try to grab life in stuff, the material commodities that our consumer society constantly presses into our consciousness. In light of the disparities all around us, I fear most don’t say, “It isn’t fair!”, but rather, “I want some, too!”
Wright suggests three options when faced with the question of justice delayed or denied: “that’s just the way it is” (the nihilist), “I’m out of here,” (the escapist), or “God is up to something” (the theist). These seem to be the options available for those in touch with the issue, but what about the clueless? I think a lot more people say, “There’s a problem?” Or worse, “Don’t bother me with reality; I’m too busy trying to fill my bottomless pit”
The question that gets stirred up in me is, “How do we get contemporary, driven consumers to slow down and see the craziness. The incongruities Wright touches upon with this first “echo” of a longing for justice is, I fear, lost on most people. I hope the thoughtful, reflective secularist gets hooked with this echo of justice. If only the pedal-to-the-metal consumer would pause long enough to hear anything other than the clamoring of his own need for more.
I resonate with the suggestion Wright makes that Christianity really is about living out justice, seeking real righteousness in the world as we pray the Lord’s prayer, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Maybe this commitment to live justly in the Kingdom and to seek the King’s justice in the world (linked with the kind of prayer that makes such living possible) is a way to awaken those who slumber in our land of ease and abundance. There is a right way to live. Those endlessly scrambling for more need to see it in real life.
N. T. Wright strikes close to home when he writes,
When Christians use their belief in Jesus as a way of escaping from that
demand and challenge, they are abandoning a central element in their own
faith. That way danger lies. (p. 13)
How can we as believers live more purely the righteous way, the way that affirms the cry for justice even as we extend the Lord’s mercy? In my experience moral courage continues to be the brightest beacon to the truth of Christ. How in Tehachapi can we live to bear witness to the rightness, the justice, implicit in the life of Christian discipleship?
Kyle Phillips
Each one, in succession, will take the lead in writing a reflection on a chapter in Wright’s book.
The other three will then “reflect upon the reflection,” adding insights, questions, or concerns that surface in the conversation. In sharing together we hope to gain from the wisdom and experience of one another. We invite you to read along and share your thoughts as well.
To begin:
In his introduction, N. T. Wright lets us know that he divides Simply Christian into three parts. Part One is an inductive exploration of common human experiences which Wright suggests points the human heart beyond itself to One Who Is There. Part Two discusses what believers believe about “the one true and living God” revealed in Jesus. Part Three explores what it means to follow Jesus.
It is evident in his style and tone that Wright seeks a conversation with thoughtful readers. He wants to include the honest, “postmodern,” secularist in an exploration of common life experiences. He is unapologetic in his Christian perspective and trusts the reader to grant him a little bit of time to draw him into an appreciation of the Christian witness to Truth.
Part One of the conversation engages us in a reflection upon common incongruities of life. He calls this section, “Echoes of a Voice,” as if the Creator has shouted an invitation into the fallen world that continues to reverberate through successive generations.
The first chapter encourages the reader to listen to that voice in the strains of the human longing for justice. He connects the broad tragedy of the 2004 tsunami with its vast carnage and devastation with the common moral problem of knowing the good, and yet lacking the power to do the good we know.
The ancient philosophers, not least Aristotle, saw this as a wrinkle in the
system, a puzzle at several levels. We all know what we ought to do (give or
take a few details); but we all manage, at least some of the time, not to
do it. (p. 6)
He uses a bit of understatement to good effect: “Isn’t this odd?” (p. 6) And then gets crystal clear, “…there is something badly wrong.” (p. 8)
This first chapter brings to light our common moral plight. I certainly track with him and easily bring Paul’s letter to the Romans into Wright’s reflection. Romans 1:22 points out how God is revealed in what He has made, even as an “echo” in the midst of human experience. Romans 3:23 is clear that all share in the moral problem the Bible calls sin. Romans 8:22 identifies the reality of a creation in turmoil. Truly, “there is something badly wrong.”
While Wright engages the thoughtful reader with this first echo, I can’t help but think that the deeper crisis of our time is the vast number of lost souls who never seem to reflect about their condition. The incongruities wrapped up in our longing for things to be set right I fear are beyond the grasp of most folks. People just don’t sit around thinking about those kinds of things.
Of course, the deeper problem is that many people just don’t sit around and think at all. Our culture has done a thorough job of focusing attention away from what might be true to an excessive concern for satiating endless desire. Like the botanical monster The Little Shop of Horrors we cry, “Feed me!” Like the voracious plant, the more we consume the more we demand. In my experience most people are simply scurrying. Too many try to grab life in stuff, the material commodities that our consumer society constantly presses into our consciousness. In light of the disparities all around us, I fear most don’t say, “It isn’t fair!”, but rather, “I want some, too!”
Wright suggests three options when faced with the question of justice delayed or denied: “that’s just the way it is” (the nihilist), “I’m out of here,” (the escapist), or “God is up to something” (the theist). These seem to be the options available for those in touch with the issue, but what about the clueless? I think a lot more people say, “There’s a problem?” Or worse, “Don’t bother me with reality; I’m too busy trying to fill my bottomless pit”
The question that gets stirred up in me is, “How do we get contemporary, driven consumers to slow down and see the craziness. The incongruities Wright touches upon with this first “echo” of a longing for justice is, I fear, lost on most people. I hope the thoughtful, reflective secularist gets hooked with this echo of justice. If only the pedal-to-the-metal consumer would pause long enough to hear anything other than the clamoring of his own need for more.
I resonate with the suggestion Wright makes that Christianity really is about living out justice, seeking real righteousness in the world as we pray the Lord’s prayer, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Maybe this commitment to live justly in the Kingdom and to seek the King’s justice in the world (linked with the kind of prayer that makes such living possible) is a way to awaken those who slumber in our land of ease and abundance. There is a right way to live. Those endlessly scrambling for more need to see it in real life.
N. T. Wright strikes close to home when he writes,
When Christians use their belief in Jesus as a way of escaping from that
demand and challenge, they are abandoning a central element in their own
faith. That way danger lies. (p. 13)
How can we as believers live more purely the righteous way, the way that affirms the cry for justice even as we extend the Lord’s mercy? In my experience moral courage continues to be the brightest beacon to the truth of Christ. How in Tehachapi can we live to bear witness to the rightness, the justice, implicit in the life of Christian discipleship?
Kyle Phillips
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
