“The problem of bread for me is a material problem, but the problem of bread for my neighbor, for all, is a spiritual, religious question.” Russian philosopher Nicholas Berdyaev

I read this and thought of previous lines of discussion on this blog and with some of you who I know. I thought it was a quote worth pondering (or–can I help myself?–chewing on). Comment at will.

At the Institute for Biblical Research (IBR) meeting this year, I acquired the book mentioned above (for free). Its title testifies to its relevance for the Conn blog, so we’ll do a multipart review, one post for each chapter. For my part, my parents-in-law work with Chinese immigrants, my younger brother works with Latinos/Latinas in IV in southwest Texas, and I live in NYC–just south of Washington Heights no less–and am constantly confronted with the causes and impact of immigration. So how Christians should think through this topic, particularly as citizens of a functioning republic, is something that’s frequently on my mind.

Immigration tends to be a polarizing issue both inside and outside the church no matter what your ethnic or citizen status and in my opinion, like politics, it is one for which we by-and-large lack the theological tools and ecclesiological framework to really address the subtleties of the problems involved, how to solve them, what the Church’s role should be, and how that should differ from the State’s (or really, States’). Therefore in my opinion serious books by Christians with expertise in Biblical studies, Theology, though especially Sociology, Politics, and Law are very much needed: people who not only understand the difficulties attendant in applying the ancient texts to modern circumstances which don’t overlap well, but also people who understand the modern circumstances well enough to know what kind of answers we should be looking for in the first place.

Prof. Carroll’s book is not really one of these, though it is no less important. We need more books like this. In his introduction, he explains that his goal is to present a conversation piece for the church–particularly in the USA. He intends to offer a simplified, concise presentation of the history of Hispanic immigration in the US, as well as all (yes, all) the NT and OT evidence bearing on the question of how the Church should think about immigration. He says his goal is not to sustain a particular argument on immigration. Rather his goal is to offer ideas, perspectives, and information to educate Christians and get them thinking–to force Christians to see the multifaceted complexity of the issues involved and encourage much-needed dialog. It is probably worth emphasizing that he focuses only on Hispanic immigration to the US–I think this was a wise book that will probably make his book more useful than if he treated immigration more generally.

One quibble I have already of the book concerns Carroll’s section on defining terminology in the introduction. He explains that he prefers the term “undocumented immigrant/worker” to “illegal alien” for several reasons: the former is pejorative, prejudicial, imputes a moral/ethical judgment, suggests the antecedent has few scruples, and that they have actually broken the law. Carroll says that it’s not that the illegal/undocumented have actually done something unlawful; rather it’s that they simply lack the documentation and the US lacks the appropriate venues for regularizing them. This is surprising claim and he is quite explicit about it (see p. 22). In my judgment there is an important lesson here that needs heavy underscoring, though part of it is certainly incorrect. Carroll is right in that the US lacks a sufficient legal procedure for regularizing undocumented workers that are already here. But the reason this problem obtains in the first place is that it is illegal to work in the US unless either you’re a citizen or have the proper documentation, hence the term. Thus using “undocumented” don’t really help since it’s illegal to be undocumented anyway. I’d grant that acquiring these credentials could be prohibitively long and complex and that the process could be streamlined, but I think it should be stressed that it’s still the law. Moreover, of concern to me is that crossing a border, even with the long-term goal of return, only circumvents underlying problems (and I would argue probably exacerbates them). Thus the term “illegal” is, strictly speaking, quite justified. There is a reality here that needs to be faced directly. The US is picky about who it wants in and wants to set the terms. It’s a sovereign country and has that right.

That said, Carroll is right that there needs appropriate nuancing and Christians and non-Christians alike have allowed “illegal” to carry certain moral/ethical freight that needs to be checked. One thing that Carroll hasn’t said yet, which I suspect he will, is that the moral situational issues that bring illegal immigrants to consider crossing in the first place are much more complicated than simply whether they break our laws or not. What is often not recognized is the extent to which these people are victims of a broken and unjust society, often which the US has indirectly (or directly) contributed to (via NATO, etc.) and which the US government could have helped to renovate or prevent, and that a major driving factor is the concern for the well-being and future their financially troubled families. They’re caught between a rock and a hard place and the personal/familial needs are often too pressing to wait and sift through the bureaucracy, especially if there is a reasonable chance for failure. Consequently, I completely agree with Carroll that focusing on the legality of immigration–that is, focusing on the matter from the perspective of US citizenship–greatly oversimplifies the ethical and moral dimensions of the problem. American Christians are often aware that doing God’s Will may imply breaking man’s law; for some reason we have a hard time imagining why that might be a fitting explanation for our illegal immigrants. Most of us would probably not make different decisions–at least, I don’t think I would.

A while back I posted on various Ancient Near Eastern sensitivities relating to “creation,” temple, “salvation,” etc., talking about the ways Jon Levenson’s Creation and the Persistence of Evil. had both radically impacted my understanding of the Bible and had jump-started a new subset of my interests in ANE studies and contextualizing our Bible within its ancient worlds. Though this will probably sound arrogant, I recommend reading the earlier related post if you lack familiarity with what Levenson does in this excellent book…

For now, I want to share one of my favorite quotes from Levenson’s Creation and the Persistence of Evil: The Jewish Drama of Divine Omnipotence. In part of the 1994 Preface, which itself warrants the price of the book, Levenson explains how and why he conceives of creation-thought, the persistence of evil, and the drama of divine omnipotence together in this exploration of the Hebrew Bible—how he conceives of these as “theodicy” (redefined) issues within the Hebrew Bible. In the midst of this discussion, on p. xvii, Levenson writes,

My failure to address the problem of evil in the philosophical sense, however, rests on more than my own obvious inadequacies. It rests also on a point usually overlooked in discussions of theodicy in a biblical context: the overwhelming tendency of biblical writers as they confront undeserved evil is not to explain it away but to call upon God to blast it away.

When I first read the book this comment struck me deeply, initiating many lengthy periods of reflection, pondering, and discussions with others. It seemed—and still seems—powerful and persuasive, refocusing discussion-about and experiences-of evil around a more biblical and edifying approach (not that the philosophical approach is invalid). This comment fit in perfectly with the numerous other personal paradigm-shifts Levenson’s book initiated—relating exciting historical study of the writings of our Bible to ways such study can (should) result in profoundly practical missional and edifying fruit…

For the rest of the Preface and, indeed, the book…I recommend you obtain a copy and read! It is only about 150 pages, apart from prefaces and endnotes. Though many will find it challenging on numerous levels, most of its challenges bring one to edifying places of exciting encounters with our Lord, especially through how he presents himself and his work in our Bible. Perhaps in the near future I will post more on this.

Apparently you can soon purchase this book from the Westminster Bookstore.

This is a re-post, of sorts…

Daniel Kirk’s new book, Unlocking Romans: Resurrection and the Justification of God, is now available.

Many of the contributors of this blog, and certainly some of its readers, know Daniel Kirk. Daniel is a MDiv graduate of Westminster Theological Seminary (2000). He subsequently completed a PhD in New Testament from Duke University’s Department of Religion, studying under Richard Hays, E.P. Sanders, and Joel Marcus, among others. He wrote a fascinating dissertation on Resurrection in Romans, how Paul re-understood and re-told the significance of Israel in the light of Christ. His advisor was none other than Richard Hays, whose writings certainly molded my thought on Paul and the communal significance of Paul for the church more than anyone else’s writings. Daniel started his job as a professor of New Testament at Fuller Theological Seminary this Fall.

During and since his time at Duke Daniel has written a fair amount concerning Paul and the significance of recent scholarship on Paul for the contemporary church. He penned a helpful response to Doug Kelly (Professor of Systematic Theology at RTS-Charlotte) on the New Perspective and Reformed Theology for the PCA’s online news site. He also published a two-part article in the Scottish Bulletin of Evangelical Theology (24 [2006]: 36-64, 133-54) arguing for a passive-obedience-only position both as Scriptural and within the bounds of the Westminster Standards. A shorter version of these articles is available online, as are google-documents versions of the original articles (1 & 2), which require some cleaning-up. Many of you have read, and probably frequent, Daniel’s blog. There, when he has time, he has continued to post refreshing communally and missionally-oriented reflections on Christ, the Bible, hermeneutics, and contemporary scholarship. His reputation as a cutting-edge but church-oriented scholar apparently grew enough that he was asked to present a paper on the New Perspective on Paul at last year’s meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society. Daniel has written and published other reviews, essays, and articles in more academically oriented contexts as well.

While I have known Daniel, I have seen (and see) him grow as a churchman; as one committed to serving the church through his scholarship. For those all of us here who know him, his passion for seeing God continue to challenge the Church through Christ and His Word is contagious. This passion and drive is evident in his writings.

Recently Daniel reworked his dissertation for publication through Eerdmans. It is now available, Unlocking Romans: Resurrection and the Justification of God. This book epitomizes many of Daniel’s driving concerns. He approaches Romans with a sensitive eye on the historical-pastoral concerns that shaped the letter and springs from there to wrestling with the powerful missional-communal message Romans still speaks to the church.

I have long found in Daniel’s work careful and sensitive exegesis. This sensitivity spans, again, from historical, cultural, communal, and theological issues of the first century to missional, practical, theological, and pastoral concerns for both then and now.

I wanted to alert everyone to this recent publication. In this book we find some matured fruit of Westminster’s and Gaffin’s Redemptive-Historical approach to Paul; matured through combination with helpful religious-historical sensitivities to the 1^st century context of Romans.

Above I linked to the Westminster Bookstore’s page for the book. Should anyone want to go above and beyond in contributing to the college fund for Daniel’s children, I hear he gets even more money per sale when people purchase from the (always overpriced!) Barnes and Noble webside (currently out-of-stock on Daniel’s book).

Ricky Gervais, the boss (“David Brent”) in and also co-writer of the fantastic BBC series The Office, keeps me “havin a laugh” and entertained. Besides The Office, he also co-wrote and starred in another great BBC comedy series, Extras. I highly recommend both.

Months back a friend made me aware of some Youtube videos wherein Gervais works through, if you will, Genesis 1-3, offering reflections. I watch these on a monthly basis, sometimes weekly depending upon my mood.

Beyond being ridiculously funny, these videos also highlight various perennial issues and questions people in our culture(s) have with some traditional Christian positions related to and stemming from Genesis 1-3. So, watch these, “have a laugh,” and enjoy an entertaining encounter with some typical questions people have about various of our more traditional approaches to Genesis 1-3, creation, beginnings, etc…

Quick Disclaimer: The videos contain some PG13 and R-rated language. Also, please do not take this post as necessarily endorsing attacks on traditional Christian positions relating to Genesis 1-3.

PART 1:

PART 2:

Thoughts, questions, comments, reflections of your own…feel free even just to share what you found funny…?

Monday I returned from the SBL. My main reason for going was to visit friends, though I hoped to be inspired to new thoughts by some sessions. The latter was hit-or-miss (though mostly miss), though one of the more interesting sessions was on Kent Sparks’ recent book God’s Word in Human Words, which was heavily attended.

I’ve not read the book, though after the session think I’ll probably need to. The main point though, as most of you probably know already, is to present a case for a Christian approach to the Bible that takes much more seriously the advances of Biblical scholarship–i.e. by acknowledging that the Bible contains myth, composite texts, imbibes the historical/hermeneutical context of its day, and trying to find a sensible way of understanding “what the Bible is” and “what it’s purpose is” that makes sense of that.

Fascinating session for me on one front. All three respondents emphasized how good the book was, how necessary it was to fill an important gap, highly recommended it, etc. The only “major” criticism was Sparks tone which the respondents felt was a bit too forceful, though Sparks responded that he considered being softer, though felt that it would actually undermine the forcefulness with which he wanted his argument to be received, particularly by an evangelical audience that was prone to look for excuses to dismiss his argument altogether. I thought that was totally understandable. The sad thing is that some people will choose to dismiss him still because they’ll think he’s being a pretentious jerk and therefore not worth taking seriously (which is wrong: all the respondents said he presented the issues very judiciously). But honestly, this is an awfully lame criticism: it basically says that Christians are too sensitive to give an author the benefit of the doubt and hear what he has to say, and if that’s true to an extent, I think the blame falls more on the readers than the writer. Writers can’t constantly be worrying about that sort of thing and readers ought to know how to read judiciously and give a writer the benefit of the doubt and/or read through the tone.

Of the three respondents, two (Stephen Chapman and Bill Arnold) openly argued that from their perspective, it is a bit strange that Sparks holds onto inerrancy since the way he wants to use it empties the term of its practical value. That is, if you’re willing to admit there are both errors of fact and intent, as most scholars do, does “inerrancy” make sense as a descriptor? Bill Arnold then made a further observation from his Arminian standpoint that I found very interesting: he said that the whole question of trying to “save” inerrancy is strange because it’s never been a major issue for Arminians. According to him, they believe in Biblical authority, infallibility, etc., but they don’t think that for the Bible to ultimately accomplish its purpose for the church requires it to be perfectly “true” in the modern sense, nor that if it contains historical errors that it impugns God’s credibility. The Bible is true and effective in the sense that it accomplishes by God’s Spirit what He intends, not because it is subject to verifiability under a microscope. This point was fascinating to me because I didn’t realize the extent to which the pursuit of inerrancy was so varied. Arnold’s attitude very much reminded me of the one I often encountered while doing my MA and the Jewish Theological Seminary: for them, the starting assumption of why they read and use the Bible in religious life is that it’s from YHWH and is for His people; given that, the “problems” become puzzles to be solved rather than threats to faith.

I’m totally with Chapman and Arnold here. On the one hand, for a long time I’ve felt that if I’m willing to admit certain historical and textual problems, then continuing to call the Bible “inerrant” not only didn’t make much sense, but also made me sound duplicitous to those I explain my views to. Sparks defended his use of the term inerrancy, though his argument ultimately devolved into the claim that the Bible was inerrant in the sense that God superintended its writing, editing, etc., and was ultimately what he intended. For me, that’s perfectly fine: I’m jokingly fond of saying “I think God inerrantly inspired an errant Bible,” although that obviously doesn’t actually say anything about the factual content of the Bible (which I’m aware of when I say it). Rather than a claim of inerrancy, it is actually a claim about God’s providence; it’s a theological claim more than a bibliological one (if that’s a word). So incidentally, I don’t actually think Sparks, Chapman, or Arnold actually differ in what they actually think the Bible is, they’re differing only in the words they’re using to describe it.

A couple of points that I thought were important to draw from the discussion. First, people often refer to taking this line on the OT as a “low view of the Bible.” If anything, this session pointed out that the “low view”/”high view” distinction is a false one: the goal of the Christian is to properly understand God’s word, how it works, and how it applies to the Church throughout the ages. As such, there are right and wrong decisions, right and wrong beliefs, but not high and low ones. People like Arnold, Chapman, and Sparks aren’t saying the Bible is “low”; rather, they’re saying if these things are true, given that the Bible is God’s word, this is how we should read and use it.

Second, it is a category mistake to say–as some ignorant systematics profs have–that context can never be allowed to trump the Bible, or that choosing claims of scholarship is directly opposed to taking the Bible on its own terms. The fact of the matter is that interpretation always requires importing a context–whether we supply it unconsciously from our own life experience, whether we construct it from our own imaginations, or whether we try to supply it from our analyses of the worlds that gave birth to the documents. No matter what we do, we always sit in judgment over the texts we read; no matter we do, we are the arbiters of their meaning–even if along the way our study is attended by the work of the Holy Spirit.

(Dr. Peter Enns has posted a personal reflection about his growing realization of the significance of his teacher Harvie Conn, the namesake of this blog. He plans to follow up on the home page (the “blog” portion of the site) with a series of quotations from Conn’s most important book, Eternal Word & Changing Worlds.

About that book, Enns says

There are numerous literary high-water marks in the WTS tradition, and EWCW is one of them. In my opinion it is the single most penetrating and insightful theological work the WTS tradition has ever produced. One of the things that distinguishes this book from any other written by a WTS professor is the book’s missional (or as Harvie called it in the lingo of the day, “missiological”) focus, and how missional concerns should and in fact invariably do affect our theological constructs and how, as a result, we need to rethink the task of theological education.

It’s no secret on this blog that I’m a McCain supporter.  I believe that he has an appropriate understanding of the benefits of public policy on behalf of the common good, and its limits as a tool to re-engineer society.  He has personally sacrificed for the United States, is demonstrably competent, and knows how to work with those who see things differently to accomplish important goals.  I don’t agree with everything he says, but I think Sen. McCain is right for the challenges of the presidency – domestic and international – and I will vote for him.  But I’m not his disciple. 

Perhaps that is why I’m struggling so much as I watch Sen. Obama’s approach to attaining elected office.  Much of the time, it’s unclear to me whether he’s running for president or messiah.  When I listen to Barack Obama speak, I hear a sermon.  Healthcare benefits and entitlement checks will flow like milk and honey.  The lion and the lamb will lie down together and we’ll be a people of peace, respected around the world.  We’ll power our land with earth, wind, and sun.  We’ll all pay less and get more (well, most of us).  We’ll all come together in unity, and he will lead us. 

I find this rhetoric deeply unsettling.  It is working (well) in ways that go way beyond political differences and move into the realm of faith.  I clearly recognize that some Obama supporters are thoughtful people who weigh issues and prefer his approach (including some of my fellow bloggers with whom I heartily disagree but nonetheless respect and love).  But, if he wins the election, it will be because he has deeply stirred the religious passions of a staggering number people who view him not as a politician, but as a savior.  For a nation that has clung so tenaciously to the concept that church and state are separate, we seem to be teetering on the edge of a remarkable remake of state into a form of church, with Sen. Obama as its charismatic leader.

Authentic church is built on authentic community.  Its members come together in a common commitment to the gospel, and seek to serve their Lord and one another in love.  Christianity calls for death to self in favor of following Jesus, with the sure knowledge that it will require sacrifice.  Service is expected of everyone, and giving flows from redeemed hearts.  Although faith in Jesus affords believers tastes of the fruits of redemption in the here and now, the fullness of his promises is reserved for the age to come.     

As envisioned by Obama, however, the church of state offers benefits without sacrifice.  There is no personal repentance, no call to service.  The prayer of the church of state is “what’s in it for me?”  Tax “cuts” for just about everyone, including the great numbers who pay no taxes.  The so-called “rich” – the new unclean out group if ever there was one – are the appointed scapegoats.  Omitted from the narrative is that they already pay most of the taxes.  The top five percent of taxpayers (those making adjusted gross income of $154,000 and up) pay sixty percent of the total federal tax dollars collected from individuals.  The group in the next five percent pays an additional eleven percent of the total.  By contrast, the bottom fifty percent – those earning $32,000 or less – pay only three percent of the total.     

It’s worth noting that the senator is not setting his proposed requirements for massive additional revenue (because like it or not, someone has to pay for all this) as a challenge before redeemed hearts.  Rather, his plan is to simply take more from those who have it because he wants it for his purposes.  It matters not that they may have gotten it through hard work, personal sacrifice, and careful planning, and that they may have their own plans.  It also matters not that even if he takes it all, it will never be enough.  In the church of state, the gospel call to give freely is replaced with a legal mandate to take, and the gospel call to sacrifice is replaced with a secular decree of entitlement.    

He also brings of promises peace, unity, and green.  But the gospel call in all these areas presupposes life-giving unity with Christ.  Part of the Christian hope is that as these benefits well up in the hearts of believers in community, they will spill over into our spheres of influence, and move us towards provisional acts of redemption in creation.

But in the church of state, Christ is not the center of these promises, Sen. Obama is.  He is expected to raise our international stature by pitting talk against action as if they are somehow mutually exclusive.  He is portrayed as the great red and blue unifier, as if our polarized society will somehow disappear with his Robin Hood-like redistribution of the wealth.  He is also the great green-earther, as if solar, wind, and geothermal power are simply waiting to be harnessed for our clean and economical use at his say-so.   

All the while, he is attracting impressive numbers of acolytes.  I recently asked an Obama follower why he was so enthusiastic.  He replied that Obama makes him feel calm.  He also told me that he didn’t mind paying yet more in taxes – he felt that it was somehow a way for him to give back.  When I pointed out that he could not only give back on his own, but direct it to his causes, he shrugged.  Michael Smerconish, a popular conservative talk radio host, recently declared his support for Sen. Obama.  Amid a string of surprisingly vague reasons for his choice, he indicated that Sen. Obama, if victorious, will give us hope.  In support of that, here’s what he said:  “Wednesday morning will come and an Obama presidency holds the greatest chance for unifying us here at home and restoring our prestige around the globe.”    

Am I the only one bothered by this?  I hear these things, and the category they trigger isn’t politics, it’s religion.

Why does Sen. Obama engender such hope among so many?  Could it be that even though rampant secularism has taken hold in the United States, it cannot quash the human need to worship?  Could it be that although Christian faith is on the wane, religious impulses are alive and well and still seeking haven in a gospel, albeit a secular one that requires nothing from them?  For, there is no “ask not what your country can do for you” here, there is only follow me and I will give you _____.  The problem is that – at least for now – the United States of America is not the church, and Sen. Obama is not the messiah. 

After I picked my son up from football practice yesterday, he asked me how things were.  I let him know that the stock market had dropped 777 points.  “Wow, Mom,” he replied, “that’s God’s number.”  I had to chuckle – at least he’s paid attention to a few things he’s heard me explain – but that’s about the only chuckle I had yesterday.  If God is using this economic crisis to get our attention, he certainly has mine.  I’ve been studying Zephaniah, and his words are reverberating:  “Neither their silver nor their gold will be able to save them on the day of Yahweh’s fury.”  (1:18)  It’s a stern warning.  

In the context of the risen Christ, however, it’s not only a call to repentance and reevaluation, it’s also a call to do what we can to alleviate looming human suffering.  I’m deeply concerned about our immediate future, and the failure of our legislature to have acted in our best interest yesterday.  The no-voters are flirting with the disaster of all Americans - and indeed, all citizens of the interconnected world.  Here’s why:

The primary provision of the economic rescue legislation is to permit the government to purchase the written down mortgage assets now creating such weight on bank portfolios.  That’s purchase assets, not hand over cash.  The problem is not that there is no value in the assets, but that it is impossible to determine with accuracy how much value there is.  As mortgages were bundled, sliced, and sold off as CDOs (collateralized debt obligations), they were traded, and when the music stopped, landed as assets on the balance sheets of banks and investment houses many steps removed from the original real estate and the mortgage borrowers that gave rise to them.  The problem now is a combination of uncertainty about their real underlying value and conservative accounting regulations requiring “marking to market.”  Since today’s holders don’t have a quick, reliable way to accurately determine what they’re worth, “market value” is a very low number.  But note:  there are properties and mortgage cash flow behind these assets.  Not knowing what they’re worth is very different from worthlessness.  

So if the government, which won’t be trying to make money on trades as the private sector had been doing, purchases these very marked down mortgages at fire sale prices with tax dollars and holds them, there are plenty of scenarios which have not only most of its investment money coming back, but even a substantial profit if and as the economy settles down.

Why is this necessary for what many believe is properly a free market economy?  That’s for another post – or better – another blog.  The conditions that have given rise to this particular moment are unique, but the problem is that we are here.  As trust evaporates from the financial system, no one is willing to  lend money.  That means businesses can’t get their working capital loans to smooth out cash flow.  That means that educational institutions will not be able to borrow to cover cash flow needs between tuition and gift inflows.  That means that banks can’t do their normal business because they are unwilling to work with one another for fear of another failure.  In short, that means that the economy has seized. 

What are the implications?  It’s like a set of dominoes.  Let’s assume a trucking company is responsible for moving produce from the farms to the local grocery chain.  It gets paid monthly.  The grocer borrows mid cycle to pay the trucker, but this month, it can’t get the working capital loan it always gets because the bank isn’t lending.  The trucking company doesn’t get paid.  It can’t buy gas and give out paychecks, so it lays off drivers, and its business halts.   The produce doesn’t move.  It rots in the warehouse, and the farmers don’t get paid . . . You can see where this is going.  It’s a small example, but when capital can’t move, things collapse in very short order.  It’s the 21st century version of massive destruction. 

This bill is essential for restoring some order to the markets so that they can move.  The more days that go by without a bill, the more urgent the situation will become.

This isn’t about politics and theoretical free markets.  It’s about keeping our country from falling apart to the extent that we could be looking at riots, food shortages, massive unemployment, and a collapse of our savings and investments (which has already begun; $1.2 TRILLION of market capital was wiped out yesterday).  To borrow from Zephaniah again, we ought to be very concerned about our streets being laid to waste. 

I’m a Republican.  I learned yesterday that my Democratic congressman voted for the bill.  For that reason alone, I’m voting for him in November; he gets it.  This goes way beyond the things that concerned me last week.

It is true that silver and gold won’t save us.  As Christians, we must grab hold of the righteousness of Christ, and remember that our trust is not in the assets of this world, but in him.  He and he alone is our salvation.  That said, as those called to speak and work redemptively in a sin-cursed world, doing we must do what we can to head off the kind of suffering we might never have imagined possible. 

I think the movie The Savages, starring Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman, exposes our tendency to avoid the reality of death.  Linney and Hoffman play siblings who are forced to take care of their father (who is battling dementia) after his ‘girlfriend’ dies.  Outside of a care facility Hoffman lays into his sister for being so choosy about assisted living centers saying,

“…the landscaping, the neighborhoods of care, they’re not for the residents. They are for the relatives; people like you and me who don’t want to admit what is really going on here. People are dying, Wendy. Right inside that beautiful building, right now, its a f-ing horror show. And all this wellness propaganda and the landscaping is just there to obscure the miserable fact that people die. And death is gaseous and gruesome and its filled with s*** and p*** and rotten stink.”

[This film is a great one for examining the human condition and coping mechanisms and living up to expectations, etc.]

I have been thinking about death a good bit lately.  My family, friends and church have been dealing with the losses of loved ones and I’ve been thinking about how to handle it all.  What should we say?  Does how we talk about death reveal what we think about it?  (N.T. Wright’s book, Surprised By Hope tackles some of these ideas)

We often find comfort in the ideas “it was their time” or “we’ll see them again” or “they’re in a better place”.  Recently I interacted with someone who uses the cloud of witnesses in Hebrews 12 to comfort the dying, saying that they will “know things and recognize people” even after they die.  This person also uses the promise of resurrection to assure reunion with believing family members.  I disagree with both approaches.

Perhaps I need to lighten up and let whatever gets us through the tough times stand.  But, my gut is unsettled by how we handle death.  I think the typical approaches to the topic fail to recognize how horrible it is.  God is a God of life.  Death is his opposite.  Even though Jesus defeated death, it still seems to reign in our present world.  As Jim Morrison sang, “No one here gets out alive.”  Is there a good way to speak of the end of a life as the tragic and hideous consequence of sin without causing unnecessary pain to the bereaved?  Can we handle talking about the reality of death?  After all, it is not as simple as ‘falling asleep’.  It is often painful and gross.

Obviously we don’t want to follow the tactless, brutality of Hoffman’s character.  Are there better ways to acknowledge the horror of death and comfort the dying/bereaved without resorting to cliches or manipulating the scripture to create an understanding that we are more comfortable with?

Have you seen it done well?  What have you found helpful?