Fridays with Michael Spencer: March 10, 2017 — On “The Shack”

Note from CM: Boy oh boy, did Michael Spencer ever get in trouble with the Reformed blogosphere back in 2008 when he recommended The Shack, the novel by William P. Young.

Well, last week it was released as a movie, and the doctrinaire sorts are having anxiety attacks once more. Tim Challies (who opined about its heresies the first time around) said that “watching and reviewing The Shack would be an unwise and even sinful spiritual decision.” Here’s his rationale:

My foremost concern with The Shack—the one that will keep me from seeing it even for purposes of review—is its visual representation of God. To watch The Shack is to watch human actors play the roles of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I take this to be a clear, serious violation of the second commandment: “You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Exodus 20:4-6). I will not see the film, even to review it, because I will not and cannot watch humans pretend to be God.

Never mind that that the biblical writers anthropomorphized God regularly, and Jesus in his ministry consistently portrayed God as a human being in his parables and illustrations. The imaginative bankruptcy of the neo-puritan mindset is once more laid bare.

Al Mohler seemed to miss the point as well, when he wrote in his critique:

The theorized submission of the Trinity to a human being — or to all human beings — is a theological innovation of the most extreme and dangerous sort. The essence of idolatry is self-worship, and this notion of the Trinity submitted (in any sense) to humanity is inescapably idolatrous.

Mohler goes so far as to sound an alarm: “The Shack is a wake-up call for evangelical Christianity,” he cries out. This little book and movie is such an egregious example of the lack of evangelical discernment, in his view, that it marks a crisis moment that must be faced.

Really?

Now, by all accounts I’ve read, The Shack is not a very good movie. The reviews pan it for being another Christianese attempt at cinema — Hallmark Channel quality at best. But that’s not really the point here. Nor, for that matter, was the book very well written. But that’s not really the point either. This is about the place — I would say the essential place of imagination and art in Christian expression.

Today, I have reproduced two of Michael’s posts about The Shack. One is his original review of the book, and the second is a follow-up that responds to the “doctrinal police,” of whom he wrote, “Sometimes I think some of the doctrinal police are about a foot away from saying any book that doesn’t just copy large swaths of scripture verbatim has no reason for existence.”

I know that posting two essays together (plus this introduction) makes for long reading. I think it’s worth it in this case. The thought-police must not go unchallenged in their attempt to banish imagination from the life of faith, when, indeed, it lies at the very heart of the matter.

• • •

Recommendation and Review: The Shack by William P. Young
by Michael Spencer

Well, well, well….it’s the little book that could. With about $300 of big-time promotion, William P. Young’s little novel, The Shack, is a multi-hundred thousand selling publishing phenomenon, with no sign of losing its momentum as it heads for the rare air of a million sales.

And along the way, Young’s imaginative, playfully serious account of one man’s weekend with the Trinity has apparently made a lot of “doctrine police” sit up and pay attention. Attention, as in, “heresy alert.”

According to its various critics, The Shack promotes the New Age movement, worshiping God as a woman, various major and minor heresies, and outright denial of the Gospel. Especially irritating to the critics is Eugene Peterson’s comparison of The Shack to Pilgrim’s Progress, a comparison that’s unavoidable to any literate reader, no matter what their theology. The rights to comparison of anything to Pilgrim’s Progress apparently have been misplaced.

I’ve been wondering recently why the doctrinal conformity enforcement contingent is so interested in the emerging church. One answer has intrigued me: It appears that many of those identifying with some aspect of the Calvinistic resurgence in evangelicalism are also tuned in, with at least one sympathetic ear, to the emerging conversation.

How many people listen to and read John Piper, but also think Blue Like Jazz is a helpful and useful book?

How many people listen to Mark Driscoll because they believe he is both reformed AND emerging?

How many bloggers have a sidebar that’s full of the reformed, but also visit the Tall Skinny Kiwi, Scot McKnight and various emergers?

How many people who treasure the classic Christian doctrine of the Trinity were captivated and drawn in by Young’s portrayal of a Trinitarian God in The Shack? Some of us were more invigorated in our Trinitarianism by Young’s book than by a shelf of theological explanations. When Mack opens the door to the shack and sees the Father, I wept. It may be cheesy and off base, but it was a marvelous moment where all kinds of things came together. It didn’t make me new age or a worshiper of a feminine deity. It made me a better Trinitarian Christian.

How many of us find the insistence that emerging voices are heretical and dangerous an exaggerated claim that goes too far?

How many Christians who have a reformation Gospel believe there is a lot of value in the emerging church conversation, even if it is flawed- deeply- in places?

In my review of The Shack, I made it clear that this is not a systematic theology, and that those looking for errors could easily find them. But it’s important to remember that Young was writing a theological parable of sorts, for his children, not for a seminary faculty. This was never the last word in theology, and it was, from the outset, an experiment in literary playfulness. If the folks who applaud the removal of Peter Enns want to go after The Shack, I’m sure it will be a short meeting.

Listening to Young in interviews, such as his two Drew Marshall interviews, the recent Tal Prince Live interview or his God Journey podcasts, it’s easy to see that this is not an emerging version of Phil Johnson. Young is about as agenda-less as anyone I’ve ever heard. He’s not trying to start anything or rescue evangelicalism. He’s reporting on the God he’s come to know and love. Like most people who dream of writing a novel, it’s full of his own journey to understand life’s most important realities. In his case, that takes us back to the shack for a journey of forgiveness and rediscovering God.

The critics are right to notice that this isn’t a polemical, contentious book at all. It is a book written to say that if we could see life from God’s perspective, life’s tragedies would not erase God’s love and reconciliation. It’s a book that says God is good, even if inscrutable. It’s a book that magnifies the wonder of Father, Son and Spirit.

The critics are correct that this isn’t a book about God’s wrath towards sinners, and if it errs, it does err in ignoring some of God’s character and going too far toward universalism. But if we are going to err, better to err on the side of grace. Young believes God is good, gracious and confidently, endlessly loving.

I’m sure the critics would strongly disagree with such a one-sided presentation.

When critics say that the book promotes worshiping God as a woman, they’ve completely missed the point. They might be a tad overenthusiastic. Young’s choice of imagery isn’t teaching theology or inviting worship. It’s trying to prod us, even shock us a bit, out of thinking of God as a set of handouts and into seeing God in surprisingly personal terms. Young isn’™t trying to start a church. He’s wanting you to rediscover the God who loves you. He HAS left out some of the points and subpoints of systematic theology. Tweak your setting accordingly.

And that leads to a final point. Young is a writer of fiction; a story-teller. The prodigal’s father, the unjust judge, the owner of the vineyard, the mother hen, the Rock, the lamb……all of these are literary explorations of God in the context of story, not pure theology. None of them can be taken beyond the boundaries of legitimate literary use. Pressed too far, they become– hang on — heretical. And they are all in scripture.

I’m not saying that we should excuse William Young of literary or theological error. I am saying that when theologians critique The Shack, they are likely working one genre against another and the results may be of limited help.

If you believe Young wants to tell you that you can walk on water, then it’s heresy. If you want to enter into an experience with Jesus that reminds us of his identity and power in a creative way, then it’s legitimate. If you think it’s corny, that’s fine.

Similarly, if you believe Young wants you to worship the Holy Spirit in the form of a small Asian woman, then he’s a heretic. If he wants you to think of the Holy Spirit in a way that emphasizes, on another level, what we all believe scripture teaches about the Holy Spirit, then he’s on legitimate ground.

You may find Young’s theology of the resolution of good and evil to be unconvincing. That’s fair, but it’s also fair that Young gets to play the game we’re all playing on that issue. It’s not like there’s a simple answer and no one is still trying to articulate something that speaks to us where we are.

Sometimes I think some of the doctrinal police are about a foot away from saying any book that doesn’t just copy large swaths of scripture verbatim has no reason for existence. The mixture of art and theological truth must be nerve wracking to those whose view of inerrancy and authority makes literary explorations of theology almost automatically heretical.

Sometimes it seems that rewording scripture into a few almost-identical-to-scripture lyrics is about all some Christians can take in the literary arts. Past that and they are talking heresy.

Frankly, tha’s ridiculous. Whether it’s literary, visual or musical, the arts should be evaluated artistically, not just theologically. I know this may hurt someone’s head, but there’s more going on than just fidelity to scripture. And if you judge everything by some standards of understanding scripture, then we’re going to have the same artistic culture as Calvin’s Geneva. In other words, get out the whitewash.

I will never praise The Shack in the terms some are using. I see many flaws at the level of writing and story-telling, as well as theology. But a disciple of Jesus who wants to write a novel for his children with the goal of opening their eyes to a possible life-altering relationship with the Trinitarian God of the Bible gets the green light from me. We should see the book for what it is and that’s all.

If certain conservative Christians are annoyed that someone out there is reading a book they don’t like, then here’s a suggestion: Write a better book. Starting a parade to tell us all we shouldn’t read this one is probably a good reason it’s going to pass a million copies soon. If you haven’t noticed, readers don’t like to be told what they should and shouldn’t read, but they have surprising affection and loyalty to authors who deliver a compelling and involving story.

• • •

Difficult Concept Workshop: Repeat After Me…”The Shack Is A Story”
by Michael Spencer

I just finished doing another interview about my writing on The Shack. My posts on The Shack have attracted a lot of readers, which is good, because if nothing else, The Shack is a phenomenon that needs to be discussed and better understood.

It seems that a willingness to denounce The Shack has become the latest indicator of orthodoxy among those evangelicals who are keeping an eye on the rest of us. It’s a lot less trouble than checking out someone’s views on limited atonement, that’s for sure.

Hear me loud and clear: it’s every pastor and Christian’s duty to speak up if they feel The Shack is spirtually harmful. I’d only add one point: it’s equally the right of those who find The Shack helpful to say so.

Obviously, The Shack isn’t for everyone. Like a lot of Christian fiction, it has a certain amount of gawky awkwardness. No one will ever call William Young a skilled wordsmith. I wouldn’t teach The Shack in a theology class, even though I find Young’s willingness to explore the Tritnity commendable and personally helpful.

(Oh….I probably would use The Shack to discuss whether the Trinity is a hierarchy, a belief that critics of The Shack seem to hold as essential.)

It’s the presentation of God in The Shack that creates the controversy with the critics and the buzz with the fans, but the longer I’ve talked about this story with other Christians, I have to wonder if all the focus on Young’s “Trinity” isn’t missing the larger point of the book- a point that many theological watchblogs don’t seem to see at all.

The Shack is a pilgrimage. It’s an allegorical account of one person’s history with God; a history deeply affected by the theme of “The Great Sadness.” It’s a journey, and overlooking what’s going on in Mack’s journey is a certain prescription of seeing The Shack as a failed critique of Knowing God.

I’ve come to believe that the most significant reason for The Shack’s early success- certainly the reason I picked it up- is the endorsement from Eugene Peterson on the cover, an endorsement where Peterson refers to Young’s book as another “Pilgrim’s Progress.” That’s not a random compliment.

The Knights of Reformed Orthodoxy like to talk about Pilgrim’s Progress as if it is Calvin’s Institutes made into a movie. In reality, Bunyan’s Book is a personal pilgrimage, one that illustrated his version of Christian experience and retold his own experiences.

Even Spurgeon realized that Bunyan’s theology wasn’t completely dependable. The loss of the “burden” comes after a long search for relief, a storyline that reflected Bunyan’s own struggles with assurance and obsessive subjectivity. Few pastors today would endorse a version of the Gospel that left people wandering in advanced states of conviction, unable to find any way to receive forgiveness. Bunyan’s particular personality has too much influence on his presentation of belief and assurance.

But what Bunyan does illustrate is valuable in a manner much different than a theological outline. He tells the story of a journey from guilt to forgiveness, the confrontation with worldly powers, spiritual conflict, imperfect fellow believers and the inertia and resistence within ourselves. We can measure Bunyan’s book by measurements of correct theology, but I believe most of us know that this isn’t the proper measurement for Pilgrim’s Progress. We should measure it as a presentation of one Christian’s life.

It’ a story of a journey.

The same could be said of many other books. Take C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed. It’s the journey of grieving the death of a spouse. Along the way, God’s appearances are all over the map because the “pilgrim” is moving in his journey through “the Great Sadness.”

Be clear: I agree with Ben Witherington III that Young’s book could use a theological revision, but I believe his adventurous exploration of God’s character is set against “the Great Sadness,” not “the Great Theological Examination.” When someone analyzes The Shack and finds 13 major heresies, I’d suggest you look very closely at the list. Some are legitimate concerns. Some are brutal victims of context and some are not heresies at all, but the critic’s discomfort with the medium.

Young is talking about a God who draws you out of your hiding place. If I understand Young’s own journey, this is the primary image in the book: A God who invites you and meets in the the very place where “the Great Sadness” entered your experience in a way that you understand the love that comes to you from the Trinity.

This journey is what should capture the reader. In one sense, The Shack is a bit of Rorschach test, and if you put it in front of someone and what they see is “emerging church heresy!” and “God is a black woman,” then you’ve learned what that person was most looking for in the book: a familiar and historically orthodox affirmation of God and a similar affirmation of who are the good guys.

But what about those who look at the book and see Mack’s journey? The Great Sadness? The God who draws you out and meets you in the place of your greatest loss? What if that reader sees the theological awkwardness and occasional imprecision, but sees those problems in balance alongside Mack’s journey to self-forgiveness, resolution and renewed intimacy with God? Maybe that’s why so many people who know good theology STILL like The Shack?

There is enough in The Shack to give all of us plenty to blog about, so don’t expect posts to end anytime soon. But I’m wondering if anyone is understanding that The Shack isn’t selling because there’s such a hunger for theological junk food. No, there’s a hunger for someone to compellingly narrate the central mystery of God, the Trinity. There’s a hunger for a God who is reconciling toward those who have believed and then turned away because they can no longer understand a God who allowed “The Great Sadness.” There is a hunger for a God who comes into our life story and walks with us to the places that are the most hurtful.

In other words, the theological fact checkers are probably missing what is so appealing to readers of The Shack, even as they see some crimes in progress. It is a contemporary Pilgrim’s Progress, but the pilgrim is a not a 17th century puritan, but a 21st century evangelical. The burden isn’t sin, but the hurtful events of the past. The journey is not the way to heaven, but the way back to believing in a God of goodness, kindness and love.

If Paul Young writes a book of theology, it should be better than The Shack. But if he writes his story, it is The Shack. I don’t buy it all, and most people I’ve talked to don’t either. But that’s not the point. It’s Young’s journey that he’s recounting and we’re reading, and that’s how we’re reading it: a story.

Note to writers: When it comes to fiction, don’t listen to the critics who want to take you down for your theology. Tell the story that’s in you, whether it passes the orthodoxy test or not. This isn’t Puritan Massachusetts yet. WRITE THE STORY. The people who read stories as theology lectures are NEVER going to approve.

Adam and the Genome 5: Chapter 3- Adam’s Last Stand? (Part 1)

Adam and the Genome 5: Chapter 3- Adam’s Last Stand? (Part 1)

We continue our review of the book, Adam and the Genome: Reading Scripture after Genetic Science, by Dennis Venema and Scot McKnight. Today, Chapter 3- Part 1

And now we get to main event.  What does genetics say about the human race descending from one and only one pair?  Dennis recounts the controversy following the June 3, 2011 Christianity Today article, “The Search for the Historical Adam”, and the resulting NPR interview in which he was quoted saying:

“But now some conservative scholars are saying publicly that they can no longer believe the Genesis account.  Asked how likely it is that we all descended from Adam and Eve, Dennis Venema, a biologist at Trinity Western University, replies: ‘That would be against all the genomic evidence that we’ve assembled over the last 20 years, so not likely at all.’”

Did I say controversy? — raging furor would be more like it.  Trinity Western administrators fielding angry calls.  It is a wonder Dennis didn’t lose his job for no longer believing the Genesis account (and I imagine that a few of you reading this blog post think he should have).  We will delve into what it means to “believe the Genesis account” when we get to Scot’s section of the book.  For right now, let’s try to stay focused on the science.  Dennis was naïve to assume that people understood that evolution was a population-level phenomenon.  If humans evolved, then they evolved as a population; he thought everyone knew that.  But he was to learn that saying the population genetics data indicates we descend from a group of about 10,000 individuals was more controversial than the data supporting common ancestry that we covered in the last chapter.

The brilliant analogy of Anglo-Saxon changing over time to Modern English shows how speciation occurs.  It is the incremental change of average population characteristics after two populations separate.  No one expects a new language to start with two speakers suddenly speaking in ways radically different than the population it arose from.  Yet many people think this how speciation occurs.  They assume all species are founded by an ancestral breeding pair that is suddenly markedly different from the population it arose from.  He says:

“Thus, I’ve encountered many folks who, upon understanding the evidence that humans and other apes share common ancestors, assume that humans—like all other species in their thinking—got their start when a founding couple “mutated away” in tandem from their ape-like ancestors.  These folks then wonder if the Genesis narratives may be portraying this radical shift, with perhaps God intervening to create the necessary, large-scale mutations that made us a biologically distinct species.”

But that is not how speciation works.  The populations are genetically separated in some way, usually physical isolation (although not always) and no longer breed together.  When mutations occur they are no longer shared across the divide.  Now the two populations begin to drift apart in their average characteristics.  Trying to draw a sharp dividing line on this biological gradient is as useless as deciding what day Anglo-Saxon became Modern English.  Dennis uses an example from his teaching.  He will ask the class to spell “lose”.  Usually, a number of students will spell it as “loose” which is becoming more common, especially on social media.  So the ability of a language to hold variant spellings or grammatical variants is dependent on the number of speakers in the language.  Dying languages have no variation at all since they have so few speakers (like some Native American languages).  Modern English, as it has become a world-wide language can support a large number of variants.  The same occurs with species; a large population size allows for maintaining a large number of variants, since each member of the species is able to hold up to two distinct variants (alleles) of any given DNA sequence in its genome.  Therefore, there is a connection between the number of variants in a population and the size of that population.  Scientists can use that connection to estimate the size of the population from the number of variants.  And since the rate of change over time is slow, it is straightforward to extrapolate backward from the present to the past.

It is technically possible that a species could be founded by a single breeding pair, just as it is technically possible a new language could be founded by two speakers.  However, that would be highly unusual and, with respect to the genetics anyway, there would be a tell-tale mark on the genome that would persist for hundreds of thousands of years—a severe reduction in genetic variability for the species as a whole.

For an example of a species with a lack of genetic variability, Dennis cites the case of the Tasmanian devils.

The carnivorous marsupial once roamed over all of Australia, but now only exists on the island of Tasmania.  Tasmanian devils have so little genetic variability that for the last hundred or so years they have exactly the same alleles with only rare differences.  This indicates a “bottleneck” event occurring in which there was a severe reduction in the population with the resulting loss of genetic variability.  The problem for the devils is that there is a form of cancer transmitted by bites that is threatening their complete extinction.  Normally, a recipient animal could fight off the cancerous cells but the devils are all so genetically similar that the cancer cells do not trigger an immune response.

In humans, by contrast, there is much genetic variability.  That is why there can be such a problem with donor organs; a close match has to be found.  For the Tasmanian devils any one could be an organ donor for another (or, sadly, a tumor donor).  This example also illustrates how long it takes a population to rebuild its genetic diversity—many thousands of generations.  The implications are clear; Tasmanian devils experienced a severe bottleneck in the distant past, humans did not.

There have been some theories that have proposed bottleneck events for humans.  The controversial Toba catastrophe theory, presented in the late 1990s to early 2000s, suggested that a bottleneck of the human population occurred about 70,000 years ago, proposing that the human population was reduced to perhaps 10,000–30,000 individuals when the Toba supervolcano in Indonesia erupted and triggered a major environmental change. Parallel bottlenecks were proposed to exist among chimpanzees, gorillas, rhesus macaques, orangutans and tigers. The hypothesis was based on geological evidence of sudden climate change and on coalescence evidence of some genes (including mitochondrial DNA, Y-chromosome DNA and some nuclear genes).  However, subsequent research, especially in the 2010s, appeared to refute both the climate argument and the genetic argument. Recent research shows the extent of climate change was much smaller than believed by proponents of the theory. In addition, coalescence times for Y-chromosomal and mitochondrial DNA have been revised to well above 100,000 years since 2011.

Since the question of estimating population size from genetic diversity is the key question that determines the geneticist’s claim humans could not originate from just two people, Dennis takes some time to sketch out the methods used that support that conclusion.  One simple way is to select a few genes and see how many alleles of that gene are in the present day population.  Taking into account the mutation rate and the mathematical probability of new mutations spreading in a population or being lost, computer calculations indicate an ancestral population of right around 10,000.  In fact, to generate the number of alleles we see in the present day from a starting point of just two individuals, the mutation rate would have to be far in excess of what we observe for any animal.

The astute skeptic could point out the assumption is that the mutation rate has remained constant; but what if it was higher in the distant past?  However, we have other ways to measure ancestral population sizes that do not depend on mutation frequency.  These methods provide an independent check on results using allele diversity.  One such method is known as “linkage disequilibrium”.  The basic idea is that if two genes are located close to each other on the same chromosome, the alleles present at both locations tend to be inherited together. 

(Note: the following discussion is taken pretty much straight from the book– I just couldn’t figure out how to condense it.  But I’m not going to block quote it for readability.)  In Figure 3-1, the long line represents a chromosome, and the hash marks across it show us where the two genes in question are located.  Geneticists even us the Latin word for location (locus, pronounced “low-cuss”) as a synonym for ‘gene’.  (Latin makes us sound smarter, I guess).  If we could zoom in on the diagram, we would see a long DNA molecule with two regions that are translated into proteins (the two genes).  The different alleles at either locus would have slight sequence differences, giving us four possible combinations for these two loci (plural for locus, pronounce “low-sigh”).  The four possible combinations are “AB”, “Ab”, “aB”, and “ab”.

During cell divisions that make gametes (i.e. eggs or sperm), there is a process of mixing and matching of alleles to make new combinations.  For example, suppose an individual had one chromosome with the A and B alleles and another with the a and b.  During gamete formation, it is possible to produce gametes that are “recombinant”—in this case, ones that have either and “Ab” or “aB” combination.  Recombination requires a process of precise chromosome breakage and rejoining called “crossing over”—something you might recall from high school biology (Figure 3-2)

The key point to understand is that the closer together two loci are on a chromosome, the less likely it is that a crossover event will happen between them.  The further apart two are loci are, the more likely it is that a crossover will recombine them.  What this means is that alleles of loci close together tend to be inherited as sets.

Let’s work through an example of how this plays out in practice.  Consider an extended family represented by a pedigree.   This is the type of diagram geneticists use to trace alleles through large families.  Females are represented by circles and males by squares.  Connecting horizontal lines indicate parents, vertical lines are offspring. Generations are labeled with Roman numerals and individual are labeled with Arabic numerals.  In this way we can refer to any individual in the pedigree (Figure 3-3).

Now consider a large pedigree where we know the allele combinations of everyone represented (Figure 3-4).  For example, individual I-4 has one chromosome with the “AB” alleles linked together, and one chromosome with the “ab” as a set.  We can represent her chromosome set, then, as “AB/ab” – the shorthand geneticists’ use.  We can then use this convention or other individuals in the pedigree.  For example, the daughter of I-1 and I-2 might have an “AB/ab” combination.  If these two loci are very closely linked together, it is highly unlikely that crossing over will occur.  Thus she would have inherited her “aB” set from her mother, and “AB” set from her father.

Likewise, her husband, II-3, would have inherited “Ab” from his dad, and “ab” from his mom.  Their children (generation III) similarly would inherit these sets without crossing over.  Looking at the combinations carried by these children then allows us to infer things about their ancestors.  If these two loci are very close to each other, we might not expect them to recombine over hundreds of generations or more.  Thus it’s reasonable to infer that these four combinations come from four distant ancestors.

The trick is that we can now do this for tens of thousands of loci across the whole human genome.  As we have sequenced the DNA of more and more individuals in different people groups around the globe, we’ve simply been asking the questions: Based on the number of allele combinations that we observe in this population, how many ancestors do we need to invoke in order to explain what we observe?  In this case, rather than estimating mutation frequency, the calculations require knowing how often crossing over happens between two loci.  This is also something we can measure directly in humans and other animals, and there is a well-characterized relationship between chromosome distance between two loci and crossing over frequency.  We’ve now done this sort of analysis for millions of pairs of loci (you read that right—millions) for each chromosome pair in our genome (all 23 pairs).  And what is the final tally after crunching all that data and counting up ancestors.  The results indicate that we come from an ancestral population of about 10,000 individuals—the same result we obtained when using allele diversity alone.

• • •

Other posts in the series:

Jan Richardson: Lent I – Where the Breath Begins

Your Earth © Jan Richardson

Note from CM: One of my favorite sites is Jan Richardson’s Painted Prayerbook. Jan does remarkable works of art and matches them with luminous prose, poetry, and prayers. She gave permission for us to use this Lenten reflection. It’s stunning. Thank you, Jan!

• • •

Lent I: Where the Breath Begins
by Jan Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Lent 1, Year A: Matthew 4.1-11

The Spirit of God breathes everywhere within you, just as in the beginning, filling light place and dark…green earth and dry…. God’s love grows, fullness upon fullness, where you crumble enough to give what is most dear. Your earth.
—Joan Sauro, from Whole Earth Meditation

Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness.
—Matthew 4.1

Just off a highway that runs south of Gainesville, in northern Florida, there is a small community that has one stop sign, a general store, and more cattle than people. I grew up there, a mile from the farm that was started by my great-grandfather and has been in the family for more than a century.

That piece of earth is a place of deep memory for me. Its landscape holds not only my own story but also layers of stories of those who have gone before me and whose stories have become part of mine. It is where, on a bright spring day nearly seven years ago, Gary and I were married. And it is where, just five years later, we buried his ashes.

The farm is part of my earth, my inner terrain. The life I have lived within its landscape has shaped and formed me, and I carry its contours inside me.

The season of Lent calls us into a landscape. Though the imagery of wilderness is dominant in Lent, this is not the primary terrain that this season invites us to enter.

We enter Lent to enter our own earth, to make a pilgrimage into our own terrain. We move into this season to look at our life anew, to consider what has formed us, where we have come from, what we are carrying within us. Lent invites us to look at the layers that inhabit us: our stories and memories, our imaginings and dreams. This season invites us to notice what in our life feels fallow or empty, where there is growth and greenness, what sources of sustenance lie within us, where we find our inner earth crumbling to reveal something new.

Lent opens our own terrain to us, that we might meet anew the God who lives in every layer of our life.

As this season begins, how might God be inviting you into the landscape that inhabits you? Is there a space within your soul that needs your attention, your compassion, your prayer? How might it be to open that space to the presence of Christ, who knows what it means to enter a difficult terrain, and who found sustenance and angels even there?

Deep peace to you as we enter into the landscape Lent offers us. May it be a place where you can breathe deeply.

Where the Breath Begins

Dry
and dry
and dry
in each direction.

Dust dry.
Desert dry.
Bone dry.

And here
in your own heart:
dry,
the center of your chest
a bare valley
stretching out
every way you turn.

Did you think
this was where
you had come to die?

It’s true that
you may need
to do some crumbling,
yes.
That some things
you have protected
may want to be
laid bare,
yes.
That you will be asked
to let go
and let go,
yes.

But listen.
This is what
a desert is for.

If you have come here
desolate,
if you have come here
deflated,
then thank your lucky stars
the desert is where
you have landed—
here where it is hard
to hide,
here where it is unwise
to rely on your own devices,
here where you will
have to look
and look again
and look close
to find what refreshment waits
to reveal itself to you.

I tell you,
though it may be hard
to see it now,
this is where
your greatest blessing
will find you.

I tell you,
this is where
you will receive
your life again.

I tell you,
this is where
the breath begins.

—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace

Andrew Perriman: Who is being transformed into the image of Christ? Not me

Golden Hour in the Desert 2015

Note from CM: I read the following, fascinating post over at Andrew Perriman’s always interesting and thought-provoking blog, and asked his permission to have us discuss it here at Internet Monk. I think it’s a good one to consider during Lent.

• • •

Who is being transformed into the image of Christ? Not me
by Andrew Perriman

I’ve just got back from a missions conference at which the idea that believers in general and “missionaries” in particular are being—or should be—transformed into the “image of Christ” got a lot of airtime.

I can see what people are getting at. The assumption is that Jesus represents either an ideal way of being human or an ideal way of doing ministry. He’s Jesus, after all! Therefore, to grow towards spiritual maturity is to be conformed to his image.

It’s a central plank of evangelical piety. Tim Challies quotes Jerry Bridges: “Christlikeness is God’s goal for all who trust in Christ, and that should be our goal also.”

It is used with reference to character: Jesus sets the standard for holiness, love, justice, faithfulness, etc. But it was also suggested at the conference that Jesus perfectly embodies the APEST functions of Ephesians 4:11 in himself, therefore he constitutes the standard for the ministries of the church.

I think that the argument is misleading, however, as a matter of New Testament interpretation. In the New Testament, I suggest, being conformed to the image of Christ has a quite narrow and particular meaning—and a meaning that arguably excludes Christians today.

The problem with the traditional understanding is not that “Christlikeness” can’t be made to serve the purposes of practical or ethical formation. We can empty the terminology of its original meaning and fill it with whatever we like—and much of the time we get away with it.

The problem is that, like so many modern theological constructs, it bends the framing narrative badly out of shape. In the end, far from being conformed to the image of Christ, we instead conform Christ to our image. We tell the story in a way that makes him look like your average modern Christian, only better.

A limited role-model
Jesus was a single, first-century Jewish man. As the pattern for redeemed humanity, therefore, he has some immediate and obvious limitations.

Of course, we can highlight numerous aspects of his behaviour for emulation, but the writers of the Gospels do not go out of their way to present him in such terms. He is the Lord to be obeyed, not the ideal Jew to whom his follows must be conformed or assimilated. The same would appear to be true for Acts.

We know almost nothing about Jesus’ life outside the short period between his baptism by John and his death, and what we do know is bound up with a very specific, historically determined (“in the fulness of time”), prophetic-messianic ministry to Israel under Roman occupation. He operated within the frame of a mission that was inseparable from the story of Israel. Even such a well-known piece of teaching as the Beatitudes was historically circumscribed.

He did not found, build, or pastor a church in the sense that we understand the process today. He did not lead worship or run a children’s programme. He showed very little interest in people who were not Jews. He showed very little interest in what would happen historically after the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple.

He simply did not set a good example for Christian life and ministry today.

Far from being conformed to the image of Christ, we instead conform Christ to our image. We tell the story in a way that makes him look like your average modern Christian, only better.

He trained a small group of disciples to continue the task of proclaiming the coming kingdom of God to Israel and to do it in much the same way that he had done it. But there was no general programme of “saved” Jews being conformed to his image.

After the resurrection he sent the disciples into the whole oikoumenē—to the nations of the empire—to teach people to “observe all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 24:1428:19:20). There is no indication that this would entail generally being conformed to the image of Christ.

There was, however, the expectation that the apostles—those sent—would be opposed and would suffer as Jesus himself was opposed and suffered. He told James and John, for example: “The cup that I drink you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized…” (Mk. 10:39).

If anything, they were discouraged from becoming Christlike.

The disciples would be resisted by the rulers of Israel, they would be hated for the sake of Jesus’ name, they would be persecuted throughout Israel, and in this specific regard they would be like their master:

A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household. (Matt. 10:24–25)

This gives us, in fact, the basic form of the imitation of Christ in the New Testament. The apostles were sent out in accordance with the will of their master. They would get the same abuse, and in that respect they would become Christ-like. If they faithfully endured though these trials, they would be seated by God alongside Christ to judge the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:28Lk. 22:30).

This is exactly what we find in the stand-out passages in Paul if we resist the pressure to make them fit the paradigm of a generic modern evangelical spirituality.

Conformed to the image of his Son
Paul says that some have been “predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers” (Rom. 8:29).

He does not mean that some people have been elected for salvation while others haven’t. Nor does he mean that all believers will be conformed to the image of God’s Son.

He means that some believers have been predestined to suffer as Christ suffered in order to be glorified as he was glorified. We normally call them martyrs—or at least, victims of persecution.

All believers are heirs of God. They have received the Spirit of God. But only those who suffer with Christ (“provided we suffer with him”) will be heirs of Christ and will share in his resurrection glory (Rom. 8:16-17).

In this way, Jesus will not be the only “son”. He will be firstborn from the dead, but he will subsequently have many brothers, also born from the dead.

Transformed into the image of the Lord
Paul tells the church in Corinth that “we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18). He is not talking about the Corinthians or believers in general. He is describing the experience of the Jewish apostles.

This whole section is Paul’s defence of the manner of the apostles’ ministry: they suffer, they are weak, but Christ is glorified. The old Mosaic covenant is fading; a new covenant between God and his people is being established through the suffering and vindication of Jesus and through the suffering and eventual vindication of his apostles (2 Cor. 3:4-18).

To be transformed into the image of Christ is to be led as a humiliated people in his triumphal procession; they are “afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed”; they carry in the body the dying of Jesus; death is at work in them; they commend themselves by their Christ-like sufferings, “in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger” (2 Cor. 2:144:8–910116:4-5).

This is the long, painful process that will conclude with them sharing in the glory of the resurrected Christ.

[This section has been revised and re-revised. It needs some clarification, but I am basically happy with the argument as it stands.]

Becoming like him in his death
When Paul says that he has rejected his standing as a righteous Jew, has made himself a pariah, in order to know Jesus Christ his Lord and be found in him, he means it in this same narrow sense: “that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead” (Phil. 3:10–11).

Christlikeness is manifested in suffering, death and resurrection.

Paul puts himself and the apostles forward as examples to follow, but this is at core an example of patient suffering. Some “walk as enemies of the cross of Christ”, but the apostles set an example of suffering with Christ in the hope that their afflicted bodies would be transformed “to be like his glorious body” at the parousia (Phil. 3:17-21).

See—it belongs to apocalyptic expectation. The apostles are living out in their own lives a narrative of Christlike suffering and vindication that will culminate in glory on the day when Jesus is revealed to the nations, the every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord, to the credit of the God of Israel.

We shall bear the image of the man from heaven
The argument about Christ as the “last Adam” in 1 Corinthians 15:42-49 is a continuation of this theme. Jesus was a descendant of the first Adam while alive on earth, but he is no longer to be regarded “according to the flesh” (cf. 2 Cor. 5:16). He has become the “last Adam” by his resurrection from the dead. So those who die “in Christ” will “also bear the image of the man of heaven” (1 Cor. 15:49).

In this argument conformity to the image of Christ must wait until resurrection, and I would argue that from the perspective of the New Testament this had reference specifically to what John will classify as a “first” resurrection of the martyr church in conjunction with the conversion of the nations of the Greek-Roman world (Rev. 20:4-6).

The Adam-christology looks forward to a new creation. We might try to draw some practical conclusions from this aspect of the “image of the man of heaven”, but Paul doesn’t. It’s the dying with Christ that preoccupies him.

Be careful what you wish for…
In the New Testament, to be transformed into or conformed to the image of Jesus is, first, to follow the same path of suffering and death and, secondly, to share in the glory of his resurrected life, to judge and rule with him throughout the coming ages. It’s not the language of metamorphosis or of personal transformation. The point is simply that their experience was like Christ’s experience, their journey like his.

But it’s not my experience, it’s not my journey. I can’t pretend to be a suffering apostle. I missed out on the first resurrection of the dead and will have to wait for the next one.

The conformed-to-the-image-of-Christ idea does not define or describe a general pattern or method of Christian formation. It belongs to the “apocalyptic” (for want of a better word) narrative and should be put back in it.

The New Testament has other ways of speaking about the formation of the people of God. It has to do fundamentally, I think, with obedience. For the Jews this had meant obedience to the Law and the prophets. For those who believed that God had raised his Son from the dead and made him Lord it meant a life of obedient righteousness through the power and instruction of the indwelling Spirit—the ways of God written on the hearts of God’s covenant people.

This is, frankly, a much broader notion than conformity to the image of Christ. It has the full scope of the Law and is, in principle, no less social, political and ecological in its application. It determines the corporate life of the people of God in the world, answerable to its risen Lord and—in the apocalyptic outlook of the New Testament—to those who, a long time ago, were conformed to his image.

Klasie Kraalogies: As Mist Before the Sun: The Slow Relief of Unbelief (3)

Wanderer in the Storm, von Leypold

AS MIST BEFORE THE SUN: THE SLOW RELIEF OF UNBELIEF
By Klasie Kraalogies

Part 3

“Think of mathematical symbols as mere labels without intrinsic meaning. It doesn’t matter whether you write, “Two plus two equals four,” “2 + 2 = 4,” or “Dos más dos es igual a cuatro.” The notation used to denote the entities and the relations is irrelevant; the only properties of integers are those embodied by the relations between them. That is, we don’t invent mathematical structures—we discover them, and invent only the notation for describing them.”

• Max Tegmark, Our Mathematical Universe: My Quest for the Ultimate Nature of Reality

• • •

The year of crisis.

By 2012 I had settled down into a comfortable understanding – I was Lutheran, I was a Theistic Evolutionist, having finally managed to shake off all the cognitive dissonance of my YEC youth – I thought things had finally calmed down. But of course I could never stop thinking. And the final dominoes began to tumble – in a Geostatistics class, in mid-May at the University of Alberta. Geostatistics is that branch of stats that focuses on spatial statistics – i.e. data in 2d or 3d space. Like gold grade in a gold deposit. Things like that. But the thing that struck me was something in the theoretical background we were covering. Bayes’ Theorem. Bayes theorem, named after a good old Anglican priest, The Reverend Thomas Bayes, describes, in Wikipedian terms:

“the probability of an event, based on prior knowledge of conditions that might be related to the event”. Basically, you can also think of it as a feedback loop, with knowledge added, tested, feedback examined, new knowledge added etc.….”

But here was I sitting, and the thought struck me – in every thing in my life, in which direction has the feedback loop of reality been pointing me, insofar as this whole “God thing” is concerned. The thought made me very uncomfortable. I knew that I could not prove God from nature, or the material world. By then I had started talking of God as the Prime Mover, the Grand Initiator of Creation. I had realised that I needed to be some sort of Fideist if I wanted to continue being a Christian.

I resolved not to act out of emotion. Not to reject anything based on how other people behave. But to try and act only because of something being true or not true. I had gradually discovered that a clear majority of my theological premises held no water, based on the very Scriptures I claimed, and especially based on the prime characteristics which are commonly held as attributes of the Christian Deity. The whole majority of people going to eternal damnation unless they say some magic words thing fell away. A God that is love cannot be a monster. And the whole counter-argument that God’s ways are mysterious are just a lazy cop-out. But these things brought me peace with the God that I still worshipped. I brought me closer. Not further. The other thing, the question of the truth, the reality of the whole enterprise contrasted with all of this. Emotions were calm. Reason was stormy.

Then one day, in an interaction on a comment thread on The Atlantic, I wondered aloud about the evolution of religious practices. A friendly commenter suggested I get Robert Bellah’s Religion in Human Evolution: From the Paleolithic to the Axial Age, which had appeared in 2011. And lo and behold, the book was stocked at Saskatoon’s excellent McNally Robinson bookstore, one of the last great independent bookstores around here.

Robert Bellah, who died in 2013, was an eminent sociologist who made the study of religion his life. The book itself is a readable, but academic tome. And it began shaking me even more – he traced a story of how religious thought began. And unfortunately for me, it mirrored my own imaginings on the subject.

I must emphasize that all through this time, I kept a guard on my self so-to-speak that I am not being swayed one way or another by emotional reaction to scandal or that kind of thing – my concern was never the depravity with which we humans can corrupt even the best of ideas, but what is real, what is true, and what is not.

Unfortunately, I began to see he is right. And then – I tried to hearken back to my old argument of the Deity as the Prime Mover. In some aspects, I was almost a Deist by now. I also got my self an overview of Western philosophy from the Greeks till the early 20th Century (The Story of Philosophy, Will Durant, 1926). And I discovered that most of the “God Squad”, as well as the philosophers favoured by them, from Plato to Aquinas to Kant etc just missed the plot completely for me. The ones that made sense were, surprising the atheist or the atheist-friendly ones – from Democritus and Epicurus to Spinoza to Santayana.

And then I so happened to be listening to James Gleick’s “The Information” – and he brought back my old friend Gödel, but in new ways, and added Turing, and Shannon, and the rise of information (Side note: Surprise, surprise, the creationists clearly misused Shannon when they tried to martial his laws for their use. Maximum Entropy carries maximum Shannon information….). And it made me think. I couldn’t escape the fact that there are structures in reality (if those are the right words), and that reality does not reflect a super-naturalist world view, but is very much naturalist, or materialist if you wish.

So, in that last week of 2012, after Christmas, I was painting the lounge. When I started it, I was still a Christian of sorts. But somewhere, I strongly suspect it was round about there where my front door is, It all evaporated. I grabbed for it, but my hands came back empty. Emotionally I still wanted it. But like CS Lewis, I was dragged, but in the opposite direction. Kicking and steaming, and paint be-splotched, I arrived and destination Unbelief.

This arrival had no fanfare. And at first, it was cold. Scary. And lonely. Very lonely…

Next Time: So What Now? How do I think about things? From morality to causality to the man with the scythe.

• • •

Earlier posts in the series:

Sermon: The Next Day…and the Next (Lent I)

Phoenix Mtn Preserve 2015

SERMON: Lent I
The Next Day…and the Next

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ But he answered, ‘It is written,

“One does not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,

“He will command his angels concerning you”,
and “On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.”

Jesus said to him, ‘Again it is written, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour; and he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Away with you, Satan! for it is written,

“Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.”

Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

• Matthew 4:1-11

• • •

We all have great and memorable days in our lives.

There was a day when you graduated from high school and perhaps a day when you graduated from college or graduate school too. Or perhaps you went through a particular vocational training or certification and graduated from that.

What a great day that was! The heavens shone down on you. Your family and friends celebrated with you. You had completed your preparation and now you stood on the threshold of a new life. You had a new identity — there were now official letters after your name, you had credentials, a line on your resumé was filled. You had studied for a particular discipline or vocation, and now you were ready to take it up, to go forward into the world as a business person, an engineer, a nurse, a teacher, an electrician, a musician, or as in my case, a pastor.

That day was wonderful! And then came…the next day. And the next. And the next.

And maybe after awhile what had been so clear to you on graduation day started getting fuzzy. The work you had prepared for wasn’t exactly like you thought it might be. There were times you flat out didn’t get it. The days were long. You got frustrated. You wondered if you made the right decision, you questioned whether or not you were on the right path.

It’s one thing to graduate. It’s another thing entirely to live and work every day in the vocation to which you’re called.

Maybe there was a day when you got married. You stood there before your family and friends and exchanged vows with the love of your life.

What a great day that was! The perfect couple! The church was beautiful, you and your bridal party looked amazing. Everyone who came commented on what a lovely ceremony it was, and you and your guests partied with joy and celebration at the reception. You had a legal, official signed piece of paper making it real. You were husband and wife. You kissed and threw the bouquet and drank champagne and drove off to a delightful honeymoon.

That day was wonderful! And then came…the next day. And the next. And the next.

And maybe after awhile what had been so clear to you on your wedding day started getting fuzzy. Living with a spouse day after day wasn’t anything like you expected. You didn’t always agree with each other. Sometimes you felt anger rising in your chest. Your spouse didn’t always pay attention to you or get what you were trying to say. There were times you raised your voice, another time when you were so frustrated you had to take a walk to cool off. The thought even crossed your mind that you might not have made the right decision. Were you two really compatible? Were you going to make it?

It’s one thing to have a wedding. It’s another thing entirely to live with someone day by day for a lifetime. Anyone can have a wedding, it’s another thing to have a marriage every day for the rest of your life.

Many of you had a great day when you welcomed a new baby into your life. If you’re like me, that was something that seemed utterly miraculous and mind-blowing. You and your partner actually created a life and brought it into the world!

What a great day that was! Such a precious little boy or girl! You held the baby and delighted in every little feature of his or her body. You laughed and cried and were at a loss for words at the wonder you felt.

That day was wonderful! And then came…the next day. And the next. And the next.

And sleepless nights. And exhaustion. And the frustration of not knowing what to do when the baby wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t breastfeed, wouldn’t stop crying. Maybe you had to deal with postpartum depression or complications from the birth. Suddenly your world was turned upside down and you felt alone, incompetent, and resentful that your partner didn’t help more. You even got angry at the baby for being so difficult. That made you upset with yourself for being so selfish and incapable of controlling your emotions.

It’s one thing to have a baby. It’s another thing entirely to care for a child. And once you made it through those often challenging days with an infant, guess what you had to look forward to next? Another challenging season of life — with a toddler! And on and on life goes. It’s one thing to bring a baby into this world, it’s another thing to be a parent every day for the rest of your life.

Today’s Gospel story — the one we commonly call “the Temptation of Jesus” — takes place right after Jesus’ baptism. Jesus’ baptism was one of those great and memorable days like we’ve been talking about. When Jesus came up out of the water, the Spirit of God descended from heaven and came upon him. God’s voice thundered out from heaven acknowledging Jesus as the Son of God. This was Jesus’ great day, his day of graduation (if you will), the day when God affirmed Jesus in his identity as Israel’s King, the Messiah.

And then came…the next day. And the next. And the next. For forty straight days.

Forty days in the wilderness. Forty days of hunger and thirst. Forty days of exposure to the elements. Forty days of exhaustion. Forty days of unknown dangers and threats. And at the end of it all, when Jesus was at his lowest point, he began to hear the voices of doubt and discouragement, voices that caused him to wonder if he was on the right path, voices urging him to take shortcuts, to act in ways that were contrary to his identity as the called and chosen Son of God.

  • Voices encouraging him to save his life when he knew he was called to lose it for others.
  • Voices encouraging him to do something spectacular to wow the crowds when he knew he was called to love and serve and teach and heal.
  • Voices encouraging him to get all the power and riches and luxury he could get — which he rightfully deserved as a king! — and to give up the whole idea of laying down his life for the world’s salvation.

Thank God that Jesus persevered through those temptations! Somehow, by remembering God’s promises, he was able to maintain his identity and focus on who he was and what God had called him to do. He didn’t give up. He didn’t go another way. He didn’t abandon his calling. He kept on living the life of God’s beloved Son the next day, and the next day, and the next day, until the day he went to the cross.

But I don’t want you to have the wrong impression here. The Bible presents this as a single story of temptation, and we might get the idea that this was a one-time experience Jesus went through, and then he never had to deal with doubt and questions and the temptation to take another way rather than the way God had called him to take.

I don’t think that’s the case. I think these temptations, presented in a single story in the Scriptures, probably dogged Jesus on and off throughout his whole ministry. I believe that because we are told that Jesus took on our human nature, and I’ve come to know a little about human nature by living with myself and by dealing with people over the years.

And what I’ve learned is that you just don’t overcome temptation on one day and then its over. In fact, Luke’s version of this temptation story ends by saying, “When the devil had finished every test, he departed from [Jesus] until an opportune time.” That wasn’t the last time Jesus faced these kinds of tests. It’s likely he faced them the next day, and the next day, and the next.

You see, it’s one thing to be baptized. To know that you are called and chosen by God. To come up out of the water and be filled with the Spirit and to have the assurance of God’s love and presence in your life.

It’s another thing entirely to live the life of a child of God day after day after day.

Thank God Jesus did that. And thank God he is with us today, and the next day, and the next to give us his Spirit and help us when we are tempted to give up.

May the One who overcame the onslaughts of the evil one and stayed on the path keep us faithful today. And the next day. And the next day. Throughout this Lenten season, and through all the seasons of our life. Amen.

The Internet Monk Saturday Brunch: 3/4/17

THE INTERNET MONK SATURDAY BRUNCH

”It is talk-compelling. It puts you in a good temper, it makes you satisfied with yourself and your fellow beings, it sweeps away the worries and cobwebs of the week.”

It’s March. It’s Lent. Some of you, the observant among us, are hungry. Come on, sneak in and have a little brunch today!

Of course, during Lent we could move the Brunch to Sundays, because even in this penitential season, Sundays are days of feasting and celebrating the resurrection. But that would mess up the whole IM schedule, so we’ll just have to remember our freedom in Christ as we chow down on some of the entrees on the table today.

Of course, you could always just have soup, a staple of the Lenten diet. HEREHERE, and HERE you can find some good recipes for Lenten soups.

Of course, if you order it here, this guy may have something to say about that…

LENTEN QUOTE OF THE WEEK…

For I believe the crisis in the U.S. church has almost nothing to do with being liberal or conservative; it has everything to do with giving up on the faith and discipline of our Christian baptism and settling for a common, generic U.S. identity that is part patriotism, part consumerism, part violence, and part affluence.

OBSERVING LENT IN 2017…

Here are some articles and resources regarding Lenten observances:

LENT-STYLE PERFORMANCE ART?

Abraham Poincheval is a performance artist whose work is a bit reminiscent of the Desert Fathers and other practitioners of ascetic exercises.

A photo essay at NPR shows and tells about Poincheval:

  • Living inside a rock (his most recent exhibit)
  • Living inside a bear carcass
  • Living in the ground beneath a rock
  • Emulating St. Simeon the Stylite by sitting alone for days atop a platform 60 feet above ground

The story also reports on his next unusual exercise:

For his next project, Poincheval will be returning later this month to the Palais de Tokyo, where he will begin a work he simply calls Oeuf (or Egg, in English). Beginning March 29, he will be sitting atop a dozen hen’s eggs for approximately three to four weeks until they (hopefully) hatch, only taking one half-hour break each day.

Reportedly, his ultimate dream is to take to the skies. Poincheval has said that he wants to “walk on the clouds.” He has been working on it for five years, but according to the artist, “it is not quite there yet.”

TIM KELLER STEPPING DOWN…

From Christianity Today:

Later this year, Redeemer Presbyterian will no longer be a multisite megachurch in Manhattan, and Tim Keller will no longer be its senior pastor.

Keller, 66, announced at all eight Sunday services today that he will be stepping down from the pulpit. The move corresponds with a decades-long plan to transition the single Presbyterian Church in America congregation—which has grown to 5,000 members since it began 28 years ago—into three particular churches.

His last day as senior pastor will be July 1.

This move does not mean retirement for Manhattan’s most popular evangelical pastor and apologist; instead, Keller will work full-time teaching in a partner program with Reformed Theological Seminary and working with Redeemer’s City to City church planting network.

“Kathy and I are not going anywhere. New York is our home, and you are our people. We’re not leaving New York or the fellowship of Redeemer,” he assured the church Sunday. “I’m becoming a teacher-trainer …. There’s going to have to be a dramatic increase in church leaders in this city if we’re going to start all these churches.”

Redeemer posted a transcript and video of the announcement on its site on Monday.

IT’S NOT JUST THE “LIBERAL” CHURCHES…

From the LCMS News & Information page: “In 1971, the LCMS [Lutheran Church Missouri Synod] had a membership of 2,772,648. By 2010, that number was about 2,270,921, a drop of about 500,000 people. Since their peak in the late 1950s, child baptisms are down 70 percent and adult converts are down 47 percent.”

The December issue of the Journal of Lutheran Mission featured two independent studies about the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod and the demographics behind its declining membership. In same issue, President Matthew Harrison responded with six points concerning those reports:

  • This demographic decline is not only an LCMS problem.
  • The retention of baptized and confirmed youth is a key area on which to focus.
  • The [Synod’s] persistent, long-term decline manifests itself both in a massive decrease in child baptisms … and a smaller but still significant decrease in adult converts.
  • The number of child baptisms and adult converts have decreased together in a remarkably similar pattern.
  • Thus, there is no wedge that can be driven between openness to life (family size) and sharing life (evangelism).
  • These reports don’t only share difficult data; they also point out what the Synod does well and what strengths we can build on. … The key here is to build a strong Lutheran self-identity among the membership.

One thing Harrison was reacting to is the suggestion by some that the primary answer to reverse the denomination’s decline is for LCMS Lutherans to have more babies. Instead, he is setting forth six ““important foci that must be taken seriously and acted upon by our pastors, laity, congregations, districts and the Synod.” They are:

  • Evangelism and outreach
  • Re-invigorating congregations
  • Healthy workers
  • Intentional outreach to immigrant populations
  • Church planting
  • Resolution of internal issues that cause conflict

I’m just not sure. Perhaps, for both “liberals” and “conservatives,” the denominational ship has sailed. Especially for denominations that for generations, even centuries, depended upon (1) children growing up in the church and then remaining in the community to serve the next generation of the church, (2) transfer growth from others in the denomination who moved into the community. I think it likely that, for the foreseeable future, these kinds of denominational church will keep limping along, leaking members, losing aspects of their identities. The world has changed.

What think you?

THE CHURCH POLICE?

Maybe the answer is for churches to get a little tougher. When the Church Lady isn’t enough, perhaps you need to call someone with a badge.

Down in Birmingham, Alabama, Briarwood Presbyterian Church has proposed a law allowing it to have its own police department.

Now, to be fair, they may need one. According to attorney Eric Johnston, who drafted the bill for the Alabama House Public Safety Committee, “We’ve got over 30,000 events a year that take place at Briarwood — going on all day, all night, at the school, at the church, at the seminary,” Johnston said. “We have to hire policemen all the time. It would be so much easier to have someone on staff.”

Briarwood Presbyterian Church Administrator Matt Moore released a statement on behalf of the church saying that Code 16-22-1 of Alabama law provides for the employment of one or more persons to act as police officers at colleges and other private educational institutions. “The church seeks to mirror that provision,” it says.

After obtaining legislative permission, the personnel employed by the church will meet all requirements and be certified by the Alabama Peace Officer Training Commission, the statement said.

“The sole purpose of this proposed legislation is to provide a safe environment for the church, its members, students and guests.”

THE RV BANDIT…

According to this fascinating story at Yahoo Sports, the story of the RV Bandit is “a tale that spans decades, involving dozens of crime scenes at countless racetracks, hundreds of victims, one Hollywood star and one thorough ass-kicking. It’s a tale of a million-dollar heist, one wallet at a time.”

Sometime in the late 1980s, a traveling salesman by the name of Steven Garry Sanders began going to different racetracks each month and stealing wallets out of RVs. The piece explains how he did it.

Sanders’ routine was brilliant in its simplicity: First, visit a track during preliminaries or lower-level events, where security was lighter. Second, act like you belong; act like anywhere you are, that’s where you ought to be. Third, watch the crowd, and when race teams start moving toward the starting line for the beginning of the race, swoop in behind them and sneak into their RVs. Fourth, take advantage of systemic weaknesses for maximum profit.

RVs “are always unlocked, because you’ve got 25 or 30 guys going in and out all the time,” said Det. Scott Frantz of the Daytona Beach Police Department. “Firesuits don’t have pockets, so guys would leave their wallets, their Rolexes right there in the motorhome. [Sanders] would never grab anything like a laptop, nothing that he couldn’t fit into his pocket.”

Go to Yahoo Sports and read the remarkable account about how the authorities eventually caught the RV bandit and found the meticulous journal he kept, which enabled them to determine he had stolen over a million dollars, a little at a time.

VOTE FOR 2016’s BEST NAT GEO PHOTOS…

Now through March, you can vote for the Reader’s Choice winner of the 14th Annual Smithsonian.com Photo Contest. Categories include: The American Experience, Natural World, Travel, Sustainable Travel, People, Altered Images, and Mobile.

Here are a few of the finalists. These are just a sampling of a truly amazing gallery of shots from the past year. Go and vote today!

Prom Night. © Trinja Henrickson. All rights reserved.
Turtle-Back Ride. © Michael B. Hardie. All rights reserved.
Bestas. © JAVIER ARCENILLAS. All rights reserved.
All Souls Day. © Md. Khalid Rayhan Shawon. All rights reserved.
Noon. © Jian Wang. All rights reserved.

QUESTIONS OF THE WEEK…

HEADLINE OF THE WEEK…

Read the full story at The Daily Telegraph (Au)

LENT WITH NEIL YOUNG…

Neil Young can rock hard. There were signs of this when most of us knew him as a folksy singer-songwriter. After all, “Cinnamon Girl” was pretty heavy, and even on “After the Gold Rush” he screamed out about the “Southern Man.” 1975’s “Zuma” had more examples of the eruption to come, but it wasn’t until the end of the 1970s that Neil Young unleashed the full force of his rock-n-roll fury on the music world.

1979’s album Rust Never Sleeps is perhaps the best representation of the two major aspects of Neil Young’s musical personality.

Side one is acoustic folkie Neil, strumming out Americana melodies and themes with passionate intimacy. It ends with “Sail Away,” one of Young’s most romantic and exquisite tunes, graced with the harmonies of Nicolette Larson.

Side two is pure hard rock, as well as an homage to punk, an ear-splitting onslaught, a wall of amplified guitar frenzy mixed with Young’s characteristic melodic sensibilities. Side one opens with a stripped down “My, My, Hey, Hey (Out of the Blue)” and side two ends with the same song cranked out with earth-quaking drums and apocalyptic rage.

This is the Neil Young who would return at the end of the next decade with similar ferocity as the “Godfather of Grunge,” lighting the way for bands like Pearl Jam in the 1990’s. This is the Neil Young who offered what may be the greatest musical performance in Saturday Night Live history with his no holds barred, manic rendition of “Keep On Rockin’ in the Free World.”

So, if the Neil Young you know is the gentle songwriter who sang “Heart of Gold,” and “Old Man,” produced albums like “After the Gold Rush” and “Harvest,” and performed on stage in his jeans and flannel shirt with his acoustic guitar, harmonica, and piano, then you don’t know Neil Young. The cat can thrash, and some of his best work is heard with the volume spiked on speakers the size of your garage door.

My favorite song from Rust Never Sleeps is “Powderfinger,” the first-person account of a young man who is out of his depth trying to defend the family homestead from river raiders. Like many pioneer stories, it speaks to something deep in the American spirit: the spirit of rugged individualism, the hopefulness of youth, and the threat of violence (gun violence in particular) in which we have always lived and died.

Look out, Mama, there’s a white boat comin’ up the river
With a big red beacon and a flag and a man on the rail
I think you’d better call John,
‘Cause it don’t look like they’re here to deliver the mail
And it’s less than a mile away
I hope they didn’t come to stay
It’s got numbers on the side and a gun and it’s makin’ big waves.

Daddy’s gone, my brother’s out hunting in the mountains
Big John’s been drinking since the river took Emmy-Lou
So the powers that be left me here to do the thinkin’
And I just turned twenty-two
I was wonderin’ what to do
And the closer they got, the more those feelings grew.

Daddy’s rifle in my hand felt reassurin’
He told me, Red means run, son, numbers add up to nothin’
But when the first shot hit the docks I saw it comin’
Raised my rifle to my eye,
Never stopped to wonder why.
Then I saw black, and my face splashed in the sky.

Shelter me from the powder and the finger
Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger
Think of me as one you’d never figured
Would fade away so young
With so much left undone
Remember me to my love, I know I’ll miss her.

Fridays with Michael Spencer: March 3, 2017

Longing for Spring 2014

Note from CM: Michael went through a period swimming in the post-evangelical stream of neo-Calvinism. This excerpt is from a 2006 post in which he expressed appreciation for one Reformed writer (Don Whitney) who stood out in advocating that Reformed Christians pursue a vibrant devotional life. Michael saw that such teaching was rare in Reformed circles, and this deficiency was a factor in his ultimate distancing of himself from that stream.

• • •

Voices advocating a strong devotional emphasis stand out in reformed circles. They stand out because the theological emphasis of most reformation Christianity is on Christ and the work of Christ; the Bible; the Doctrines of Grace and issues of ecclesiology. The formative scene for Christian spirituality in the reformed tradition is the meeting house, with the congregation hearing the teaching of scripture by the minister. Even the word “spirituality” is likely to be avoided.

If honesty were to take hold of many of us, we could tell the tale of how our enthusiastic embrace of Calvinism put our devotional life on the downgrade…IF we do not restrict that devotional life to listening to preaching and reading Reformed books. In fact, there is more than one Calvinist who spent more than a few moments wondering “Why pray (or anything else) at all?”

Without intentionally promoting it, many reformed Christians have a kind of pessimism about the devotional life, built on certain assumptions.

1) There is nothing good is us and we should avoid subjective, introspective experiences.

2) Spiritual disciplines such as Lenten fasting or guided meditation are dangerous concessions to a Roman Catholic approach to the Christian Life.

3) The objective proclamation of the Gospel, and the growing intellectual understanding of the Bible, are the primary means of spiritual growth, and others may detract from a full-devotion to the importance of preaching.

4) Too much of an emphasis on certain kinds of prayer can go astray into challenges to God’s sovereignty, new age spirituality or empty ritual.

5) Too much emphasis on the devotional life becomes legalistic, works righteousness emphasizing pietism.

Of course, any of these assumptions can be rightly and correctly placed within the Christian life. There is no need to reject the devotional life in any form when it is rightly related to the Gospel. Godliness is not synonymous with works righteousness, though there is no doubt that there is a possibility of departing from a complete satisfaction in and dependence on Christ in any personal discipline. Don Whitney’s ministry makes this plain, and deserves to be heeded.

What should also be heeded is the rather obvious evidence that theologically big-brained, one-dimensionally intellectually oriented Christians are often not spiritual well-formed, and advanced appreciations of doctrine do not negate the place or need of the devotional life. Reformed Christians often are doing- and not doing- spiritual disciplines based on what they are seeing in the broader Christian world. There are errors and fads to be avoided. There is also a rich heritage to be appreciated and appropriated.

It’s possible to run too far away from the spiritual formation of classic Christianity. Dallas Willard is increasingly criticized in reformed circles as an “emergent” type to be avoided, yet Willard’s call to return to serious, Jesus-centered, Biblical spiritual formation has been going on long before the emerging church became news. Willard’s powerfully accurate critique of undiscipled Christians is not “out in left field.” It is dead center with what is wrong with many of us.

Adam and the Genome 4: Chapter 2- Genomes as Language, Genomes as Books (Part 2)

Adam and the Genome 4: Chapter 2- Genomes as Language, Genomes as Books (Part 2)

We continue our review of the book, Adam and the Genome: Reading Scripture after Genetic Science, by Dennis Venema and Scot McKnight. Today, Chapter 2- Part 2

Chapter 2 begins with a brilliant analogy of how evolution works by comparing how Modern English evolved from ancient Anglo-Saxon.  The major points of the analogy were:

  • The various examples from the fossil record are not instantaneous changes from one to the next.
  • They are samples drawn at intervals from a continuous process.
  • Over time, however, changes accumulated that gradually shifted the average characteristics of the language / population as a whole.
  • Given enough time, it becomes more and more of a stretch to say the language or the organisms are the same.
  • Despite the striking differences we see now, the process that produced them was gradual.
  • There is no convenient point where we can say Anglo-Saxon “became” Modern English or apes “became” humans; the process was a continuum.”

Dennis then talked about how DNA is composed of 4 “letters” and how those “letters” are used to replicate and code for proteins that do the “heavy lifting” work of the cells/organism, and how redundancy was built into that process.  He then gave the example of the insulin protein and how knowing how DNA sequences code for that protein allows us to compare one organism’s sequence to another, in the first case dog to human.  Then in his second example, comparing human, apes, and dog insulin.  Based on anatomical characteristics, evolutionary theory predicts that these ape species share a more recent common ancestral population with humans than non-primate species such as dogs, do.  If that is so, then their gene sequences should be a closer match to human sequences than what we observe in dogs.  And that is, in fact, what we observe, and this level of identity far exceeds what is needed for functional insulin.  We have failed to reject the hypothesis that humans share a common ancestral population with apes.

The pattern that was observed in the insulin gene sequence has now been confirmed to exist across numerous other gene sequences of humans and great apes.  Beyond genes, our entire genomes are either around 95% or around 98% identical, depending on how one counts the effect of deletions of small blocks of DNA.  And not only nearly identical, but organized in the same spatial pattern.  In the book analogy, at the sentence, paragraph, and chapter level, our two “books” are organized in the same way.

The next example Dennis gives for shared ancestry are the olfactory receptor genes, or simply put, our sense of smell.  Mammals on the average have about 1,000 genes devoted to the sense of smell, out of a total gene count of 25,000; which means a significant proportion dedicated to this purpose.  Mammals that hunt (like wolves) have very keen senses of smell because their olfactory genes are kept in good repair—deleterious mutations are weeded out through selection.   Humans have a diminished capacity for smell; and the reason became apparent after the human genome was sequenced.  Many of our olfactory receptor genes are damaged (mutated) but they persist because the mutations are replicated once they are “locked” in.  As a result these genes persist as genetic “fossils” in our DNA.  They are known as “pseudogenes” (false genes) because they have many of the features of genes but cannot translate as a gene should to produce a useful protein product.  Now, not only do other primates have mutations in their olfactory receptor genes, but the same genes are lost and often the exact same mutation event, down to the exact DNA letter change, is seen in more than one species.

So in the first example from Figure 2-7, the gene 5AK4p is shared among all 4 species.  It has a “stop” mutation at DNA letter 236, which is a mutation that “stops” the gene from coding for the amino acids necessary to do its job.  So what is the reason all 4 species share the same mutation?  It could be coincidence that the same mutation occurred 4 times independently in different species.  A second possibility is that the mutation occurred once in a common ancestral population to all 4 species, and subsequently inherited by all 4 species.  The paper Dennis is citing also observes that several mutated genes fit this pattern.  Even if one gene might have this pattern by chance, it is extremely unlikely that numerous genes would have this same pattern by change alone.  Heredity is the more parsimonious explanation and, again, we have failed to reject the hypothesis that humans share a common ancestral population with apes.

A second pattern we observe is shown by gene 2; in this case, a deletion mutation (i.e. one DNA letter missing) at position 212 in humans, chimps, and gorillas, but not orangutans.  Deletions mess up the code so that the mutated codon will code for the wrong amino acid—that ruins the protein’s function.  Again, the simplest explanation is that this mutation occurred once in the population ancestral to humans, chimps, and gorillas and that the ancestral lineage for orangutans had already separated by this time.  Once again the researchers found many examples that fit this pattern.

A third pattern in gene 3 shows a mutation shared only by humans and chimps.  Again, the simplest explanation is that this mutation occurred once in the population ancestral to humans and chimps, and that the ancestral lineage for orangutans and gorillas had already separated by this time.

Finally, we see mutations unique to a single species (genes 4-7).  Such mutations are expected, since each species also has a period of unique history after its lineage separates from all the others.

Note, however, what we DON’T see: mutations shared by gorillas and chimps, but not seen in the other species, for example; or mutations shared by humans and orangutans that are not also seen in gorillas and chimps.

Why don’t we see these categories?  Because the species are related in the manner suggested by the patterns we do see, therefore, we would not expect them. The data form a pattern called a “nested hierarchy”, which is a fancy name for a family tree.  While this was worked out on the basis of partial genome sequencing, we now have full genome sequencing for all 4 species, and the genome-wide identity between humans and other apes follows the same pattern.  Again, we have failed to reject the hypothesis that humans share a common ancestral population with apes.

Now the astute observer might ask; if this is true for humans and primates, then it must also be true if whales descended from land-based artiodactyls.  Dennis answers that:

“In fact, DNA evidence comparing a modern artiodactyl (hippos) and modern cetaceans was the first evidence that these species share a common ancestral population, before the key diagnostic fossilized ankle bones were found in ancient whales.  Not surprisingly, paleontologists doubted the new DNA science until they found the fossils that confirmed its predictions.  DNA and fossils tell the same story; they are converging lines of evidence.”

Dennis then discusses the case of vitellogenin pseudogenes in placental mammals.  (Note: I am borrowing language from Dennis’ articles at Biologos to save me time hand typing from the book.  Dennis’ discussion in this book is a condensed version of the 5 articles he posted at Biologos on the Vitellogenin issue. See http://biologos.org/blogs/dennis-venema-letters-to-the-duchess/vitellogenin-and-common-ancestry-understanding-synteny.)  Vitellogenins are large proteins used by egg-laying organisms to provide a store of nutrition to their embryos in egg yolk.  Evolution would predict that all placental mammals once had vitellogenin genes in their genome, even if those genes would no longer be useful, if they did indeed shared a common ancestor in the past.

Modern birds (such as chickens) have three vitellogenin genes: VIT1, VIT2, and VIT3. The latter ones sit side by side in the chicken genome, with VIT1 in a different location. The three VIT genes sit next to other genes in the chicken genome: VIT1 sits next to a gene called “ELTD1”, and VIT2 and VIT3 sit between genes named “SSX2IP” and “CTBS”. These genes are not involved in making egg yolk – they just happen to be the closest neighbors of the VIT genes.  With these data in hand, the researchers then searched the human genome for the genes near to the chicken VIT genes. These three genes (ELTD1, SSX2IP, and CTBS) are also found as functional genes in humans – and as expected, these genes have the same spatial arrangement in the human genome as they do in chickens.

Figure 2-9:  The VIT1 and VIT2, VIT3 regions in the chicken and human genomes.  White boxes indicate functional genes.  Black boxes indicate sequence matches between the two genomes.  The ELTD1, SSX2IP, and CTBS genes in humans and chickens are highly similar and line up with one another when comparing these regions.  Small fragments of matching sequence can be seen covering both regions, including fragments matching portions of the chicken VIT1, VIT2, and VIT3 genes, though the most extensive matching is see in the fragmentary human VIT1 pseudogene.

To put it simply: we have a gene (no longer working) for making egg yolk.  Why?  WHY would God create us de novo with a gene for making egg yolk in our DNA?  It makes perfect sense if God created us through a natural biologic process of descent with modification.

Dennis notes that given the abundant lines of DNA evidence that support the hypothesis that humans are the result of a natural biologic process, it is no exaggeration to say that very, very, few trained biologists reject common ancestry for any other reason than prior religious conviction. Dennis is friends with Todd Wood, who holds to a young earth creation position, but is one of the very few YECs who will engage the science honestly.  Dennis quotes from an article on Todd’s blog from 2009:

Evolution is not a theory in crisis. It is not teetering on the verge of collapse. It has not failed as a scientific explanation. There is evidence for evolution, gobs and gobs of it. It is not just speculation or a faith choice or an assumption or a religion. It is a productive framework for lots of biological research, and it has amazing explanatory power. There is no conspiracy to hide the truth about the failure of evolution. There has really been no failure of evolution as a scientific theory. It works, and it works well.

I say these things not because I’m crazy or because I’ve “converted” to evolution. I say these things because they are true. I’m motivated this morning by reading yet another clueless, well-meaning person pompously declaring that evolution is a failure. People who say that are either unacquainted with the inner workings of science or unacquainted with the evidence for evolution. (Technically, they could also be deluded or lying, but that seems rather uncharitable to say. Oops.)

Creationist students, listen to me very carefully: There is evidence for evolution, and evolution is an extremely successful scientific theory. That doesn’t make it ultimately true, and it doesn’t mean that there could not possibly be viable alternatives. It is my own faith choice to reject evolution, because I believe the Bible reveals true information about the history of the earth that is fundamentally incompatible with evolution. I am motivated to understand God’s creation from what I believe to be a biblical, creationist perspective. Evolution itself is not flawed or without evidence. Please don’t be duped into thinking that somehow evolution itself is a failure. Please don’t idolize your own ability to reason. Faith is enough. If God said it, that should settle it. Maybe that’s not enough for your scoffing professor or your non-Christian friends, but it should be enough for you.

Todd took a lot of grief from the YEC community which goes to show their disingenuous attitude.  I don’t how else to say it.  He wasn’t being a “closet evolutionist” as he was called, he was being honest about the state of the evidence.  It reminds me of the Glenn Morton story .

The thing is that Darwin nor any of his contemporaries, except maybe Gregor Mendel, could have imagined that organisms would retain a text-like record of their evolutionary past in their hereditary material.  Genetics and the DNA evidence could have overturned the whole evolution theory.  Genome sequencing could have rejected the hypothesis of common ancestry.   In actuality, these new technologies have provided some of the most detailed and convincing evidence of descent with modification i.e. EVOLUTION.

Humans do share common ancestors with other apes; apes share common ancestors with other mammals; mammals share ancestors with other tetrapod vertebrates; tetrapod vertebrates, as we have seen, share ancestors wit fish; and ultimately all life on earth shares common ancestors dating back over 3 billion years.

Invitation to Lent

Miércoles de Ceniza. Photo by rpphotos

These are the prayers we will be praying and the invitation I will extend as our congregation gathers for the Ash Wednesday service this evening.

Prayer of the Day

Gracious God, in love and mercy you breathed into dust the breath of life, creating us to love you and our neighbors. Strengthen us to face our mortality, the limitations of our nature, and the many ways we fall short of your calling upon our lives. Grant us to live in the faith of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Invitation to Lent

The early Christians marked the days of Jesus’ death and resurrection with great devotion, and it became the Church’s custom to prepare for them by observing a season of repentance and fasting.  This was called “Lent,” which means “springtime,” reminding us of the season in which the life of God’s creation is renewed.

This season of Lent provided a time in which new believers were prepared for Holy Baptism on Easter. It was also a time when those who had been separated from the church were invited to return and be renewed in their faith. In these ways, the whole congregation was reminded of the gospel’s promise of forgiveness and new life, and of the continual need we all have for spiritual refreshment.

I invite you, therefore, in the name of Jesus, to join us in observing a good Lent. Let us examine ourselves before God. Let us return to God in those areas where we have strayed. Let us turn to him in prayer and renew holy habits. Let us abstain from choices that dull our need of Christ. Let us read and meditate on the Scriptures. Let us gather together to encourage one another to love and good deeds.

Tonight, as a right beginning in this penitential season, let us come before the Lord our Maker and Redeemer, confess our sins, and receive the cross-shaped mark that reminds us of our mortality and our need of the resurrection life of Jesus.

Concluding Prayer

Merciful God, accompany us on our journey through these forty days. Renew us in the gift of baptism, that we may die to self daily and rise to walk in newness of life. Strengthen us to fast from all indulgence, to pray for all in need, and to provide for those who are poor. Above all may we find our treasure in the life of your Son, Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

• • •

Photo by rpphotos at Flickr. Creative Commons License