2021 Media Journal: Books

In 2021 I attempted to keep a detailed journal of all the new (or at least new-to-me) books, movies, tv shows, music and podcasts I experienced during the year.

I made it through May. After that, it gets a little dicey.

Looking back at the accounting of it has been eye-opening. There’s so much more of it than I realized. Reviewing the year has really helped me get a sense of what has stuck with me and what has turned out to be forgettable. So, I thought I’d share it here, starting with books (since I’m the kind of guy who likes to believe that I’m a book-first person). Rather than take up a lot of your time with mini-reviews I’ve decided to describe every work in 20 words or less. The rest is up to you.

Oscar Charleston: The Life and Legend of Baseball’s Greatest Forgotten Player (Jeremy Beer). Maybe the first great Black baseball player, a generation before the guys you know. He’s worth your attention.

The Wax Pack: On the Open Road in Search of Baseball’s Afterlife (Brad Balukjian). What if you met all the guys in a pack of baseball cards? Great idea, disappointing execution.

Ghosting the News: Local Journalism and the Crisis of American Democracy (Margaret Sullivan). Local Journalism is in trouble. So is America. These truths are related. Short, clear, direct. Worthwhile.

The Conquest of the Illinois (George Rogers Clark). First-person account from the general who secured the Illinois River Valley during the Revolutionary War. Short, fascinating.

Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation (Kristin Kobes Du Mez). The timeline of hyper-masculinity poisoning American Evangelicalism. Clearly documented and explained, damning evidence of the state we’re in.

Yogi: A Life Behind the Mask (Jon Pessah). A fascinating man, but the writing style grated. Like 500 pages of ESPN The Magazine pieces. Wish I liked it better.

Breathe: The New Science of a Lost Art (James Nestor). Fascinating, easy to follow, not jargon-laden. Practical techniques well explained. I’ve found it helpful and healthful.

The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ (Fleming Rutledge). Profound examination of the event of the Crucifixion and the Biblical motifs related to it. Important contribution to never-ending topic.

The Disabled God (Nancy Eisland). An early approach at theology of disability. An important voice in an essential conversation. Challenging, with important insights.

The Making of Biblical Womanhood (Beth Allison Barr). Clear, detailed history showing Complementarianism as veneer for non-Christian patriarchy. Also personally examines the cost to the whole Church.

Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World (David Epstein). Explores the advantages for those who have had diverse experiences in work, training and development, contra the “Laser-Focused” approach.

A Study in Emerald (Neil Gaiman). Graphic novel imagining Sherlock Holmes in the Lovecraft Cthulu mythos. A blast if you like either or both of those.

The Sparrow (Mary Doria Russell). Amazing. Science-fiction, faith, religion, philosophy – all at once. Don’t read about it before you read it.

Locke & Key: Welcome to Lovecraft (Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez). First book of a trippy graphic novel about a family, a house, and a wild set of keys. Fun read.

The Nickel Boys (Colson Whitehead). Beautiful and horrible, depicting life for boys on the edge in the Jim Crow South. I cried, and gasped. Actually.

What Is the Bible? (Rob Bell). I liked it. YMMV on his style, but his explanation of how to read the Bible is pretty solid. Worthwhile.

Ted Strong Jr.: The Untold Story of an Original Harlem Globetrotter and Negro Leagues All-Star (Sherman L. Jenkins). The inspiring life of a Negro League All-Star and Harlem Globetrotter which was almost lost to history. Joyous read.

The Prophetic Imagination (Walter Brueggemann). A reading of the Hebrew Scriptures which sees the prophets as divine agents of counter-culture. Brief but rich, must-read classic.

The Underground Railroad (Colson Whitehead). These both won the Pulitzer Prize for a reason. Again, beautiful and devastating. An alternate version of pre-Civil War America that casts new light on old horrors.

Four Lost Cities (Annalee Newitz). The author looks at current archeology to consider the forces that can make seemingly healthy cities and civilizations disappear.

A Burning In My Bones (Winn Collier). Authorized biography of beloved pastor/author/translator Eugene Peterson. Gave human scale to a larger-than-life figure, affectionately.

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma (Bessel Van Der Kolk). Understanding trauma, how it affects body and mind, and the ways of healing that are restoring people. Profound and empowering.

From Big Bang to Big Mystery: Human Origins in the Light of Creation and Evolution (Brendan Purcell). Purcell considers human origins from the discipline of philosophy, a fresh angle which offers fresh insights. Friendly to science and religion.

Klara and the Sun (Kazuo Ishiguro). A meditation on what it means to be human and our need for belonging. Joyful, sad, beautiful.

Tear Down These Walls: Following Jesus into Deeper Unity (John H. Armstrong). John is a personal mentor and inspiration who has committed himself to Christian unity. This is his latest work exploring that vision, and it is a beautiful expression of his mission.

Changes

Some of you have known this was coming for a while, but now we are ready to talk about details: I have resigned as the Pastor of St. Paul Evangelical United Church of Christ, and in mid-September, Christy and I will be moving our family to Cupertino, California,  where we will be serving as the lead staff in a community home for three developmentally-disabled adults.

Our work will be part of an approach called the Family Teaching Model, which supports disabled adults seeking independence and community. These are individuals who have previously lived in a state institution, and now are being given the opportunity to live in local communities. Our work as a Family Teaching Couple will be to aid these individuals, and to welcome them into our family. We are excited about this model because it treats the men and women who are a part of it with dignity and respect.  We believe that people with disabilities or impairments still deserve to seek the kind of life that they want to live, and the FTM does that.  It’s not a new model; an organization in Kansas has been leading with this model since 1977, and is being used in a few other places.  We believe that it is both a great approach to the need of supporting disabled adults, and we believe it is a way in which we can make an impact in the lives of others.

As I’ve been reflecting on the decision to make this change, I’ve been thinking a lot about Willie French.  Willie was a man who was a part of St. Paul Church for several years before he passed away in late 2010. Willie found us because of his own initiative – he wanted to be a part of a church, and so he pushed his support staff (and former support staff who were still in touch with him) to help make it happen. They did, and so Willie became a part of the St. Paul family. When he decided that St. Paul was a place he wanted to be, Willie asked for people who would be willing to give him a ride to or from church.  I thought that was such a beautiful, humble and yet bold way of behaving.  He didn’t really know us yet, but he was willing to tell us how he needed our help.  And several people stepped up and got him to and from church – although he would also walk the 2-plus miles to church if he didn’t have a ride!  The people who got to know Willie welcomed him and became friends with him, which was especially beautiful to me because I knew that in previous settings Willie had been made to feel like a problem, like a hinderance or an embarrassment. Willie knew that he had limitations, but he was not embarrassed. People who took the time to get to know Willie were blessed by him.  I was one of those people.

I believe that serving the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven includes making sure people like Willie French, or my son Zach, or our new friends in Cupertino, are part of the community. 1 Corinthians 12:20-26 tells us that the people who seem to be “weak” (to some) are in fact essential to our well-being as a people, because of how they teach us to be together. In Matthew 25 Jesus teaches that those who serve others in need – be it the need for food or drink, a place to call home or a cloak to wear or someone to call a friend – are those who are doing the work of the Kingdom on earth.

That’s what I want to do – the work of the Kingdom.  I want to inherit the Kingdom! I want to learn the lessons that the least of these have to teach me! I want to teach my sons the values of the Kingdom. So, my friend Willie, my son Zachary, many more friends we have made along the way in recent years (especially my JAF Maranatha friends!) and my King Jesus inspire me to go make a new community. All of us will be grateful for your prayers.

Jesus is the Source of Your Joy

We had a video malfunction at St. Paul Church last weekend, so the service didn’t get recorded.  Since it was the second week in a four-part series, I thought it would be nice to make the sermon available, in case someone was trying to follow along.  So, what follows is the manuscript of the sermon from June 29.  The series is called “Hope Overflowing in You!”, and the structure and content are related to the series I taught at this year’s Joni and Friends Family Retreat in Muskegon, Michigan.  If you are interested in the videos of the other sermons in this series, you can check out our channel on Vimeo.

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Jesus the Son is Your Source of Joy

Charles Spurgeon was a preacher in England in the late 1800’s. He has been called by many “The Prince of Preachers”, for there is no preacher who has had an output to match his, he had enormous impact upon the lost in his day, and he was a skillful preacher. However, as is the case with any pastor, he had his critics. One of those critics had this to say:

“His style is that of the vulgar colloquial, varied by rant … All the most solemn mysteries of our holy religion are by him rudely, roughly and impiously handled. Common sense is outraged and decency disgusted. His rantings are interspersed with coarse anecdotes” It sounds like at least on these counts, I can relate to Spurgeon!

Others said he was too jovial, bringing too much humor into his messages. He responded that his critics would close their mouths if they knew how much of his humor he left out.

At the same time, for all of his robustness and apparently offensive humor, Charles Spurgeon lived with sorrow. In 1856, when he was only 22, but already wildly famous, he scheduled a service at the Music Hall of the Royal Surrey Gardens because his own church could not hold the expected crowd. In fact, the Music Hall was also too small, and the crowd swelled to an estimated 10,000 beyond the hall’s capacity. When someone yelled “Fire!”, there was a great panic, and in the stampede 7 people were killed and scores more were seriously injured. Spurgeon was overcome with grief, and the event haunted his thoughts for the rest of his life. Many who were close to him believed that it was one of the elements that fed his life-long battle with depression.

He also knew sufferings at home. His wife Susannah dealt with physical ailments which rendered her homebound by the time she was 33; she was virtually never seen in public the last 27 years of Spurgeon’s life.

And he knew physical sufferings of his own. He suffered from gout, rheumatism and Bright’s disease (inflammation of the kidneys). His first attack of gout came in 1869 at the age of 35. It became progressively worse so that it was estimated that “approximately one third of the last twenty-two years of his ministry was spent out of the Tabernacle pulpit, either suffering, or convalescing, or taking precautions against the return of illness”.

In other words, for more than half of his ministry, he endured chronic, debilitating pain that kept him from his labor which he adored. And then, at age 57, he died while convalescing in France.

Charles Spurgeon lived a life of suffering, and yet he also still had great joy, which people seemed ready to hold against him.

There was another preacher who was considered a bit too much of a partier. His critics didn’t like that he consistently choice to hang around with a dubious crowd.

And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” (Luk 15:2 ESV)

Have you ever had the parenting experience of a child having a meltdown in public? Do you remember the withering looks of judgment you got from the people around you? Imagine the looks Jesus got!

And clearly, the word got around to Jesus (as it usually does to preachers, eventually), because he responded:

“The Son of Man has come eating and drinking; and you say, ‘Behold, a gluttonous man, and a drunkard, a friend of tax-gatherers and sinners!’ (Luk 7:34 NAS)

Clearly, his critics thought that Jesus was enjoying himself too much. And it does seem that many who encountered Jesus went away with joy. At the same time, Jesus lived a life that clearly mingled joy and sorrow. His compassionate grief moved him to action when he encountered those who were suffering. Matthew and Mark tell us he had compassion on the crowds who he saw as being like sheep without a shepherd. And he ultimately gave his life in sacrifice, enduring torture and then a horrible, criminal death on a cross. And he knew this was coming. We don’t know how far in advance he knew what he knew, but he clearly knew that he was going to suffer. And in the midst of the suffering of his creation, and the awareness of his coming pain, Jesus lived with joy.

I think of John as the gospel of Jesus’ joy, because John records Jesus not only living with joy, but teaching in chapters 15-17 about his own joy, and his mission to extend his joy to those who follow him.

I told you last week that Hope is a word which has a far more robust meaning than we usually assign to it. We talked about it as a kind of Holy Dissatisfaction with the way life is, and a confidence in God to deliver the shalom he has promised. The same is true of the word Joy, which is in our sights this morning.

The cultural usage of Joy is essential the pinnacle of happiness. A synonym of words like delight, jubilation, glee, exuberance, elation, euphoria, bliss – but, of course, still an ephemeral experience, something that is subject to change when our circumstances change. But I want to assert today that that’s not joy – there’s something bigger than that. Something that Charles Spurgeon got. Something that Jesus got! Something that some of you already get, and that I believe the rest of you can take hold of today.

You may have heard preachers say that joy is not merely extreme happiness, because happiness is about our circumstances, and joy is not. I’ve said the same thing myself in the past, but I want to amend that idea today. Today I want to tell you that joy is related to happiness, and at the same time it supersedes happiness. The key is that we need to improve our definition of what “our circumstances” are.

Right now, take your index finger, and hold it up about six inches in front of your face. Focus your eyes on that finger, and as you do, recognize how everything beyond that is out of focus. Then, while keeping your finger where it is, shift your focus to the distance, perhaps to something on the wall of the room you are in, or to the greatest distance you can see. When you put the deepest part of your field of vision into focus, your finger is still in your sight, but it’s completely out of focus, and instead you are seeing much more.

Your finger is like the circumstances that are happening to you right now. Meanwhile, the longest of our circumstances is actually the eternal Kingdom which we are awaiting when Jesus the Christ returns. Since we believe that is a sure hope that will come to pass, and because God has invited us to live in that Kingdom, that is part of the circumstances of our lives just as much as what is happening right this minute. Joy is the state of God-centered pleasure that comes from looking at the deepest or longest view of our circumstances, which brings into view the full restoration of all things by God through Jesus Christ and puts our present circumstances into proper perspective. It goes beyond happiness because happiness is normally grounded in a short view of our circumstances, and is therefore subject to change when short-term circumstances take a painful turn.

The Swiss theologian Karl Barth described joy in the Bible as “…’a defiant ‘Nevertheless!’ that Paul sets like a full stop against the Philippians’ anxiety….”

I think that’s what Charles Spurgeon understood – in spite of his near-term circumstances, he was fully confident in the hope that God has brought through Jesus Christ, and so he lived a defiant nevertheless against anxiety and despair.

Now think about the life experience of Jesus. Jesus came to earth and lived in the midst of the sorrow of his own broken creation. Imagine that! My cousin Michelle lives in Washington, Illinois, which suffered a devastating tornado last year. We are grateful that their family was safe, and in fact the storm’s damage path was just blocks from their house. We have all seen pictures of families walking back into their homes after that sort of devastation, looking at the bits of framing that are left, things twisted and bent out of shape, perhaps a few family heirlooms scattered around. Now imagine for a moment if you had built your own house, with your own hands and labor. Imagine what it would feel like to walk through that wreckage knowing that it was not only your financial investment, but your creative energies, your craftsmanship that had been leveled.

Jesus came and walked the earth, every day for three decades, and saw the devastation that sin had wrought on his creative craftsmanship, the ways that human rebellion had twisted souls, had mangled lives. And yet, Jesus was able to convey joy. How can that be?

Because he had a longer view. Because he knew that he had come to announce and begin the coming of the Kingdom of God. Because he used the power of God within him to give a preview of that Kingdom over and over again – restoring brokenness in people’s bodies, and also brokenness in people’s spirits. Because he came bringing salvation. Jesus could have joy, even as he was sorrowful over the state of people being like sheep without a shepherd, or the death of a dear friend like Lazarus, or even the cup that he had to bear in going to Calvary, because he knew that deeper in the frame was the resurrection, and his ascension to heaven to prepare a place for his disciples, and the power of the Holy Spirit in the lives of billions of disciples, and his return as the King with the fullness of restoration, and the reign of a kingdom which has no end.

This is why and how Jesus is the source of our joy. His work has created the longest of our circumstances, and he has secured that hope, and he has shown us that it is possible to live in light of that long view, rather than the short view of our immediate context.

The big question for us, then, is how do we access the joy of which Jesus is the source? And the best answer I know comes from John 15-17, which I mentioned before. In particular, let’s look at John 15:4-11, where Jesus speaks about the Vine and the Branches.

4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.
5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.
6 If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.
7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
8 By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.
9 As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.
10 If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.
11 These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.
(John 15:4-11 ESV)

The promise about having access to the joy of Jesus is at the end of the section, but the primary instruction in the passage is in verse 4 – “abide in me, and I in you”. This is a command type of statement, as you can probably tell – he’s not asking, he’s saying, “do this. Abide in me.” What does it mean to abide? Simply, to stay. The word is talking about staying in a place, about residing, or remaining where you are. So, if Jesus says that he is a vine, like the master vine in a vineyard, and he says that we are branches off of that vine, like the shoots that grow off from the master vine, then to abide in him means to retain that relationship. Don’t leave. Don’t imagine that you can collect the wisdom of Jesus but then strike out on your own, and replant yourself without his ongoing nourishment. That’s actually really simple, I think, and it’s related to the first commandment Israel had from Yahweh: don’t have any other gods before me. I’m the one who brought you out of Egypt and slavery – who else do you need? Jesus is saying, “I’m the one who brought you out of the slavery to sin, out of the old way of trying to do things your own way – who else do you need?”

When we do this, he says, we have fruitful lives. When we do this, he says, the Lord gives us the things that we ask for (keep in mind that he is saying that when we are saturated in the mission of Jesus, what we ask for will be things that it is good and wise for God to give us, and he will). Above all, though, he says that when we do this, we abide in his love. And then v. 10 tells us what it looks like to abide in his love: we keep his commandments. Oh, and he says “commandments”, but then in verse 12, he actually gives one commandment. Just one! But it’s a real one: “love one another as I have loved you.” We don’t have enough time to unpack all of the implications of that statement today, but we are brought back to many ways of asking ourselves if the way we are loving another person fits with the way Jesus loved us. Are we being sacrificial? Are we being generous? Are we being forgiving? You see how this goes, right?

When we are really satisfied with Jesus and his work and his provision and his promises, and the hope he has accomplished for us, then we will be content to do what he teaches us, not what anyone else wants to teach us. Then we will be eager to follow his commands, and not to go wandering, and when that happens, then we have his joy. Live his type of life, trust his provision, experience his joy. That’s really it. Simple – but not always easy, right? Not a lot of steps. Not a giant checklist for you. But steps that many of us find consistently challenging, because of the tendency toward idolatry in our hearts. And that idolatry in our hearts springs up from that looking at our near-term circumstances and getting anxious from them. But when we re-focus, when we look at the long-term circumstances, and we remember that Jesus is working out the necessary steps to his eternal kingdom, then we can say “I’m not necessarily enjoying this right now, but I know where we’re going, and I’m looking forward to that.”

We have all seen more than our share of highway construction. Lots of heavy equipment rearranging the terrain, moving earth and removing old pavement. It causes long delays at times and traffic gets backed up. It has become accepted as one of the headaches of traveling.

In one construction area, in Ohio, there was an unusual amount of tension. The motorists were becoming hostile and the workers were frustrated. So, to resolve this tension one worker resorted to some humor and purchased bumper stickers for the heavy equipment. They all said the same thing: “The road to happiness is almost always under construction.”

Let’s change that to: the road to joy is almost always under construction. Or the road to hope is almost always under construction. Or the road to the eternal kingdom. You decide which of those you like best.

The key is that this life is connected to that life. But the key is that we look at that road, stretching out in front of us, and we say, “Nevertheless, we’re still going to the same place, the promised place, the place where he’s preparing for us right now. And we can’t wait to get there!” So we can live here, and now, with Jesus’ joy.

 

The Little Things

It’s 12:40 on Thursday morning, and I’m sitting in ER room 13. It’s as dark in here as I’ve ever seen an ER room, and that’s good, because my son Zach doesn’t like any light when he’s sleeping. To avoid embarrassing any of the principals in this story, I’m not telling you why he’s here. It’s one of those pedestrian things that happens with kids, and after several overnight checks he will go home no worse for wear. But for now, we are here.

As Zach sleeps on his twin bed (even lightly snoring now), I am reminded the extraordinary privilege behind being a caregiver. Just before he drifted off, Zach and I had an exchange that went like this:

Zach: Go home.
Me: Not yet. Let’s stay here for a while and sleep. We can go home later.
Zach: Go home. He stretches this out, getting his money’s worth out of every letter – the guttural entry of the H, an O that modulates and bends in the middle, an M that leaves the word practically suspended in air, an open-mouthed “mmmma”.
Me: no, let’s go to sleep here.

This goes on for a while.

Eventually I convey to him that we are going to stay for a while, and I’ll be with him the whole time, and this is enough to let him drift off to rest. When we sleep, we are totally vulnerable, and going to sleep in a strange place requires either total exhaustion or a special sort of trust. He accepts that I will be here, that nothing will happen without me. He does not like the blood pressure cuff tonight, but if I put it on him, he accepts it, and locks eyes on me as the machine does its work.

For someone to allow us to be their caregiver, they cede incredible trust to us. I should be thankful every time someone trusts me enough to care for them. Parents, adult children, relatives and friends, remember that when someone allows you to protect them, that they have paid you an enormous compliment, and that you are entering into something holy with them. You are like God to them in their greatest vulnerability, and they trust you enough to put their life in your hands.

Never grow bored with the beautiful opportunity God has put into our hands.

Learning to Live in the Kingdom

Last Sunday in worship, I talked about how God protects his Kingdom people in the world (If you are interested in seeing that sermon, you can click here). One of our observations was that God promises to protect his people and his Kingdom; if we believe this, then it is wise for us to obey God, because the path God offers to us is the path of protection, even though it is sometimes difficult.

If we find obedience difficult, it may be helpful to realize that the act of obeying actually can be subdivided into several smaller steps:

Listen – we have to start by receiving the direction of another
Hope – for us to take what we have received any farther, we must believe that the one who has offered us direction is qualified in such a manner that such direction could actually lead us to a positive outcome
Trust – we must also believe that the one who directs us intends or desires good for us, and therefore is offering a credible direction
Act – finally, we would take the steps proposed by the one who we believe to be qualified to speak into our lives and oriented toward our well-being

These are the stages that can move us from inaction to obedience. If you wish to examine yourself, to consider where you may be disposed to obey or where you may need to change yourself, the following are questions that might be useful for such examination.

Listen:
Are you listening for what God has to say to you?

How do we listen? Historically, the primary ways the Church has listened is by reading the word, praying, worshipping, and fellowshipping with others who are following Jesus

Are you committed to continuing to seek out the promises of the Lord, to come to deeper understanding and better knowing of God?

Hope:

Can you believe that God can do the extraordinary things he has said he will?

Can you give thanks for things that have been promised but have not yet come?

Can you believe that God will even remove your sin, that he will make it as if you never had sin?

Trust:

Are you willing to be fully dependent upon God?

Are you willing to set aside your own methods of gaining love, power, righteousness?

Act:

Are you willing to set aside whatever in your past you must walk away from?

God called Abram to make God the only priority in his life; are you willing to do the same thing?

Are you willing to make your past past?