I mention this because I have been avoiding posting on The King Jesus Gospel: The Original Good News Revisited for this reason for quite some time. I am not sure I can do it justice or engage the real meaty issues it touches on. But the good folks at Net Galley and Zondervan didn’t send me a review copy so I could fret about my self-esteem … So. Some thoguhts below.

First, what is this all about anyway? Publisher synopsis:

Contemporary evangelicals have built a ‘salvation culture’ but not a ‘gospel culture.’ Evangelicals have reduced the gospel to the message of personal salvation. This book makes a plea for us to recover the old gospel as that which is still new and still fresh. The book stands on four arguments: that the gospel is defined by the apostles in 1 Corinthians 15 as the completion of the Story of Israel in the saving Story of Jesus; that the gospel is found in the Four Gospels; that the gospel was preached by Jesus; and that the sermons in the Book of Acts are the best example of gospeling in the New Testament. The King Jesus Gospel ends with practical suggestions about evangelism and about building a gospel culture.

This is a powerful examination of what it means to speak of the Gospel and how our understanding of it impacts our “Gospeling” or evangelism. McKnight argues forcefully that to present a plan of salvation, or soterian, gospel is to miss the larger picture of scripture and God’s plan for the universe.

As noted, there is a lot packed in there and a lot you can, and should, debate.  But for now, a few thoughts …

I think the aspect that McKnight is absolutely right on is the plan of salvation focus on current evangelicalism.  This is exactly the environment I grew up in: one focused on making a decision about personal salvation.  Not that there wasn’t an attempt to connect the Old and New Testament, or that spiritual growth beyond salvation wasn’t discussed, but that the gospel was very much seen as personal salvation and the lens through which we saw everything else.  It felt like to me that this was the point.  McKnight calls this focus soterian from the Greek word soteria which we use for salvation.

For McKnight the Gospel is the story of Israel being completed in the story of Jesus who is the Messiah King. This is the Apostolic Gospel and the Gospel Jesus preached. If we lose our focus on this larger story and the context it provides we end up with an individualistic “get saved to avoid hell” type gospel not one focused on the larger Kingdom of God; of how God is writing our story even now.

McKnight presents this very well and uses stories from students and the perspectives of some pastors to highlight how this view has come to dominate. He then outlines how 1 Corinthians 15 is the Apostolic Gospel and the earliest form of the Gospel in the church.  From this start he outlines what this means and how we lost our way.  He then goes on to explore whether Jesus preached the Gospel. Peter’s perspective on the Gospel and how we approach evangelicalism and the Gospel today.

I really feel like I need to read this again to get a strong grasp on the argument and the deeper issues involved.  But the one thing that I absolutely agree with McKnight about and belive deserves to be highlighted is how the big story of the Gospel is so often lost today – the way the plan of salvation approach leaves out the wider lens of God’s action and plan for all of creation – and how the content and style that results from this mindset fails to develop disciples and build communities.

Scott McKnight has down us a valuable service looking at a central aspect of our faith, clearing away the cultural, theological and historical ruble and forcing us to think in a fresh way about what we mean when we talk about the Gospel.

The King Jesus Gospel is a challenging but necessary and, in many ways, refreshing book.

Image via Wikipedia

One of the coping mechanisms of the book addict with moderate to low income is cheap or free books. This allows you to scratch the “must buy books” itch without going broke.  Sometimes this leads only to an ever burgeoning library, and a lower own-to-read ratio, but sometimes it leads to great finds.  In the case of these two books I hit the triple play: they were cheap (I caught them at reduced prices so both were $.99), they were Kindle versions (and so no space constraints) and they turned out to be insightful reads.

Trolling for books on Amazon by clicking through my recommendations (come on, you know you do it), I stumbled upon The Didache.

What in the world is the Didache you ask?  Just one of the earliest extant Christian documents we have:

The Didache is, in all probability, the oldest surviving extant piece of non-canonical literature. It is not so much a letter as a handbook for new Christian converts, consisting of instructions derived directly from the teachings of Jesus …

The Didache claims to have been authored by the twelve apostles. While this is unlikely, the work could be a direct result of the first Apostolic Council, c.50 C.E. (Acts 15:28) …

Most scholars agree that the work, in its earliest form, may have circulated as early as the 60′s C.E., though additions and modifications may have taken place well into the third century. The work was never officially rejected by the Church, but was excluded from the canon for its lack of literary value.

The complete text of the Didache was discovered in the Codex Hierosolymitanus, though a number of fragments exist, most notably in the Oxyrhynchus Papyri. It was originally composed in Greek, probably within a small community.

Once I stumbled upon it, I was fascinated and had to read it for myself.  The history and debate surrounding this document is interesting in itself, but what is striking about the content of the Didache is its simplicity and focus on practical matters. Written most likely before the Gospel of John, and without an awareness of the style and theology of Paul, it has a simplicity and straightforwardness that is refreshing – or at least was to me.

The focus is on practicing what was at this point an embryonic church and faith; followers of Jesus before church hierarchy and formalism.  The document is focused on living out the command to love God and neighbor as part of a community of faith. And focused on both character and action; on being gentle, humble and kind but also on how to practice generosity, structure the faith community and avoid the temptations of  the world.

My interest in this ancient text, with the help of Amazon again, soon led me to The Teaching of the Twelve: Believing and Practicing the Primitive Christianity of the Ancient Didache Community which includes the Didache itself and commentary and background by Tony Jones.  This handy book takes the text and helps the reader flush out ideas and applications that flow from it.

I found this volume a nice introduction and companion for those, who like me, are just being introduced to the Didache.  I really enjoyed the way Jones presented the material, posed questions and discussed the document’s impact and relevance with a modern (or perhaps post-modern) community in America. It was readable and engaging; inspiring, an at times convicting, without being preachy. It provides both some useful background but also a way to start thinking about how it might impact your life.

If you have any interest in the early church, or are just looking for a different lens with which to approach your faith and engagement, I found both the Didache and Jones’s work interesting and insightful.

Cover via Amazon

This book was provided for review by the WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group

I will confess I have always been a little defensive about books that approach economics or American society and faith. Far too often, from my perspective, these books easily move from relevant spiritual issues into garden variety leftist critiques of capitalism, etc. In this way they turn me off from the message by delving into politics – and usually poorly at that.

Radical by David Platt may seem to be headed toward this territory. After all, the subtitle is Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream. Title and subtitle would seem to indicate  that this book comes from the less talked – and fretted – about religious left.

But Platt takes no such turn and as a result it is a much stronger book. Don’t get me wrong. Platt doesn’t get into conservative politics or economics either. He plays it straight and sticks to his Biblical and spiritual points without getting sidetracked into politics or economics.

Here is a quote from the publishers blurb:

In Radical, David Platt challenges you to consider with an open heart how we have manipulated the gospel to fit our cultural preferences. He shows what Jesus actually said about being his disciple–then invites you to believe and obey what you have heard. And he tells the dramatic story of what is happening as a “successful” suburban church decides to get serious about the gospel according to Jesus.

My thoughts below.

This is a very challenging book for any Christian who takes the Gospel and their faith seriously.

Quite simply Platt asks his readers to think about how they might live if they really believed what they read in the Bible. He argues that churches have accepted too much of the culture of individualism and materialism and turned Christianity into a comfortable life choice and therapy program instead of something that demands everything you can give.

With hundreds of thousands of innocent children dying without adequate food and water Christians need to wake up and think about these needs not their own comfort. With millions of people unreached by the gospel Christians need to wake up and think about the Great Commission. He challenges you to think about what is comfortable and convenient and what is real faith.

And in a very helpful step, in my opinion, at the end he offers a year long program to begin the process of re-orienting your life and faith: pray for the entire world; read through the entire Word; sacrifice your money for a specific purpose; spend time in another context; and commit yourself to to a multiplying community.

The writing is a big awkward at times as he switches between anecdotes, theology, cultural criticism, and memoir rather frequently and not always smoothly. The chapters are not tightly argued point as much as conversational and anecdotal descriptions mixed with arguments.

But the message is powerful and, in my opinion, one that needs to be heard.

- You can download the first chapter here

- Also check out the compact and challenging companion The Radical Question

I am participating the Multnomah Blogging for Books program this week. The Book is Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream by David Platt.

Publishers blurb:

IS JESUS WORTH THIS TO YOU?

It’s easy for American Christians to forget how Jesus said his followers would actually live, what their new lifestyle would actually look like. They would, he said, leave behind security, money, convenience, even family for him. They would abandon everything for the gospel. They would take up their crosses daily…

BUT WHO DO YOU KNOW WHO LIVES LIKE THAT? DO YOU?

In Radical, David Platt challenges you to consider with an open heart how we have manipulated the gospel to fit our cultural preferences. He shows what Jesus actually said about being his disciple–then invites you to believe and obey what you have heard. And he tells the dramatic story of what is happening as a “successful” suburban church decides to get serious about the gospel according to Jesus.

Finally, he urges you to join in The Radical Experiment –a one-year journey in authentic discipleship that will transform how you live in a world that desperately needs the Good News Jesus came to bring.

Look for a review later this week.

I also have a copy to give away. Not being particularly creative about these things, I will make it simple.  Just leave a comment below and I will pick a name randomly.

So if the book sounds interesting and you would like a copy, leave a comment for a chance to win.

Here is the basic plot (cribbed from the publisher’s blurb):

When Matt Mikalatos realizes that his longtime buddy in the robe and sandals isn’t the real Jesus at all, but an imaginary one, he embarks on a mission to find the real thing. On his wild ride through time, space, and Portland, Oregon, he encounters hundreds of other Imaginary Jesuses determined to stand in his way (like Legalistic Jesus, Perpetually Angry Jesus, and Magic 8 Ball Jesus). But Matt won’t stop until he finds the real Jesus—and finally gets an answer to the question that’s haunted him for years.

As you might be able to tell even from this short synopsis, the book walks the fine line between slapstick comedy and insightful spiritual commentary – and in my opinion manages to pull it off for the most part.

Mikalatos has a lot of fun with his spiritually themed romp but the issue of how Christians create imaginary Saviors in order to avoid dealing with the real Jesus is worth exploring. The author touches on some rather profound and emotional issues but never gets too heavy or loses the rhythm of his largely comic story.

I don’t think Mikalatos offers any startling insights or deep perspectives. Instead he simply creates – based in part on his own experiences – humorous and thought provoking examples of how we try to pigeon hole or caricature Jesus.

Imaginary Jesus is a quick and chuckle inducing read but one with a valuable lesson at its core.

But I read Jesus Wants to Save Christians: A Manifesto for the Church in Exile for our church’s summer book series and found myself enjoying it (more about that later).

So when the publisher offered Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith for free on Kindle I scooped it up (free is free after all) and started reading it on a recent trip (my Kindle is a lifesaver when I travel). And maybe Bell is winning me over because I really enjoyed this book too.

Here is the Bell’s blurb for his own book from the publisher:

We have to test everything.
I thank God for anybody anywhere who is pointing people to the mysteries of God.
But those people would all tell you to think long and hard about what they are saying and doing and creating.
Test it. Probe it.
Do that to this book.
Don’t swallow it uncritically. Think about it. Wrestle with it.
Just because I’m a Christian and I’m trying to articulate a Christian worldview doesn’t mean I’ve got it nailed. I’m contributing to the discussion.
God has spoken, and the rest is commentary, right?

My take below.

The quote above is a good taste of the style and focus of Bell. His enemy is comfort. If you get too comfortable in your faith and the way you live it out you are in trouble.

The tile comes from the idea of a Velvet Elvis painting. Bell has one in his basement and he compares the idea of painting and art to Christianity. Like art, faith must continue on. It is not something that is put down in stone (to mix metaphors) and remains the same forever.

Here is another passage that lays that thought out:

The challenge for Christians then is to live with great passion and conviction, remaining open and flexible, aware that this life is not the last painting.

Times change. God doesn’t, but times do. We learn and grow, and the world around us shifts, and the Christian faith is alive only when listening, morphing, innovating letting go of whatever has gotten in the way of Jesus and embracing whatever will help us be more and more the people Gog wants us to be.

The rest of the book is Bell discussing how this works itself out in our daily lives and in our churches and communities. He discusses how we approach scripture, doctrine, worship and life not by trying to lock down our beliefs and the rules but by following a way of life – by trying to increasingly match our conception of reality to the ultimate reality that is God through life with Jesus Christ.

This doesn’t mean that we reject truth or believe that everything is OK, etc. But it means an honesty with God, ourselves and others about our finite nature and knowledge; that faith involves interpretation and questions and that we get it wrong.

Bell uses his knowledge of Judaism and the Rabbinical system in the time of Christ to bring insights into the message, actions and cultural context of Jesus and of scripture as a whole. He weaves in these insights into a fresh perspective on issues of faith and Christian living; a style and tone that is conversational and immediate.

Sure, at times it seems almost too colloquial and almost trying too hard to be hip, but it is worth “getting over” any hangups you might have with his style in order to gain the fresh and insightful perspective he brings to faith. His is an orthodox faith that doesn’t feel weighted down or stale – it has a honesty to it that is refreshing. Not that you will agree with everything he says but that he will help you to see things differently and re-think some of your approaches to faith.

As is typical of Bell, Velvet Elvis is a quick and non-intimidating read for people of almost all perspectives. But despite that accessibility – or perhaps because of – it offers some thought provoking and insightful ideas about living out faith in the 21st Century.

So if you haven’t heard of Bell, or harbored doubts as I did, and are looking for a fresh approach to issues of faith and spiritual growth  – what it means to be a Christian today – I would encourage you to read Velvet Elvis. You will be glad you did.

I am afraid I am going to offer one of my truisms again. What you think of it will have a lot to do with what you expect and the attitudes you bring to it.

Here is Publishers Weekly:

In this entertaining gem of religious satire, Breen, an AP journalist, skewers American Christianity from every imaginable angle. Calling himself the ‘Internet Theologian,’ Breen romps through the Bible, religious history, denominational differences. Halloween, contemporary Christian music and spectator sports, among other topics. Some of the book is pure silliness, but other sections achieve that elusive ‘perfect storm’ where humor is sharpened by raw intelligence and a keen knowledge of history and theology. Even Breen’s glossary of terms is hilarious. Heck, even his endnotes are funny and not to be missed. (One says merely, ‘Seriously. Wasn’t Calvin a nut?’) Readers seeking irreverent, laugh-out-loud musings on the sometimes ludicrous intersections between faith and pop culture will want to read this insouciant guide.

If you want satire, there is plenty of satire. And there is lot of humor that I found quite funny – from laugh out loud to quiet chuckle. But the larger question is whether the satire and humor adds up to something more than entertaining reading.

My take after the jump …

Dictionary.com defines satire as follows:

–noun

1. the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc.

2. a literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule.

3. a literary genre comprising such compositions.

But let’s turn to the Wikipedia entry on satire as well:

Although satire is usually meant to be funny, the purpose of satire is not primarily humour in itself so much as an attack on something of which the author strongly disapproves, using the weapon of wit.

The problem is that it is not always clear what Breen is skewering because he strongly disapproves of it and what he is simply using as a comedy foil.

The introduction notes that while pop culture may seem like oil and water they are actually deeply intertwined today:

Americans, in other words, have take to Christianity the way we’ve taken to everything else – with an orgy of scatter-brained, well-meaning-but-crazy exertions that ultimately leave everyone feeling exhausted and slightly queasy.  And when these exertions find a public expression, that expression is what Americans do better than anyone in the world: pop culture.

As a result, today’s Christianity is first and foremost dynamic. It is not merely something people are guilted into doing on Sundays by their nagging, churchy spouses.  While that may have been true for our boring parents and their irrelevant forms of worship, today the varieties of religious expression include not just church, but rock concerts, skateboarding competitions, wrestling matches, video games, bestselling novels, major motion pictures, and tiny comic books telling you the Devil invented trick-or-treating as a way to lure unsuspecting children into eternal damnation.

And a chunk of the book makes fun of – and criticizes by extension – the extremes of this “everything must be relevant” obsession of too many churches.

But another theme of the book seems to be that popular culture and Christianity have always intersected in both positive and negative ways. And for a long period in Europe and the West Christianity was the dominant culture. The two ideas sometimes seem to clash depending on the issue being satirized.

Sometimes Breen seems to be making fun of things simply because they are funny.  For example, the sections dealing with Christians and holidays are hillarious to anyone who grew up hearing the debates about Christmas , Halloween, etc. Breen notes that an increasing number of Christians are shunning October 31 because of its pagan roots:

This may come as a surprise to those Americans who, as children, associated it with primarily the Hershey corporation and, as adults, thinkof it almost soley as an opportunity to see young women dressed as naughty nurses. But, ironically, it’s a conviction shared by many Christians and pagans, and one backed up by a great deal of poor scholarship. Exactly the kind of scholoarship most appropriate for the Internet Theologian, in other words.

But some are more effective at using humor to make a more serious point.  The chapter on A Field Guide to the Major North American Jesuses also successfully skewers the various cultural attempts to rub all the rough edges off of Jesus; to make a Jesus of one’s own. The next chapter notes the hippie mindset that underlys so much of the seeker culture in the modern church.

Which brings me to central question with the book.  The best form of satire, in my opinion, offers not just biting humor but insight into the thing being mocked. And Breen’s shtick – even if over-the-top at times – is funny, and he successfully highlights some of the absurd cultural traits of what might be called the evangelical subculture, in the end you aren’t left with much besides jokes. He doesn’t help the reader understand the conflicts and tensions very much.

The “Dispatches” of the subtitle is important here. The book has the feel of essays and blog posts combined into book form. While the jokes – including footnotes – build on each other (the mock anti-intellectualism, etc.) the sections don’t really add up to more than the disparate parts.

As I read I enjoyed the humor and chuckled at the asides and silliness but after I finished I couldn’t really offer any particular insights or deeper points made by Breen. It has an empty calorie quality to it.

And in the end I think, as noted above, what you are looking for determines your enjoyment. If you just want to read some funny satire of the Christian subculture you will enjoy this book. And in many cases, the more you are familiar with the issues and attributes the funnier you will find it.

But if you are looking for more than skewering – if you are looking for a more serious underpinning to the satire – I think you will be slight disappointed.  To my mind Breen simply doesn’t offer anything coherent in terms of a response.

Christians can be funny, and anti-intellectual and ahistorical and even un-Biblical in their pursuit of smorgasborad faith that is relevant and integrated into pop culture (or in building a separate culture). But why this is dangerous and to be avoided is not exactly spelled out in any clear way. And how the various problems inter-connect is also left unclear.  Readers are instead mostly left to come to their own conclusions about what it all means.

Perhaps I am just expecting too much out of humor book but I think many readers will be looking for more than just laughs – particularly those who take these issues seriously. Of course Breen might just call them eggheads …

But despite the countervailing habits when I heard about John The Baptizer by Brooks Hansen I was immediately intrigued. Here is the publishers description:

Traditionally, John the Baptist is seen as little more than an opening act—”the voice crying in the wilderness”—in the great Christian drama. In presenting the epic of John’s life, novelist Brooks Hansen draws on an extraordinary array of inspirations, from the works of Caravaggio, Bach, and Oscar Wilde to the histories of Josephus, the canonical gospels, the Gnostic gospels, and the sacred texts of those followers of John who never accepted Jesus as Messiah: the Mandeans.

Gripping as literary historical fiction, and fascinating as a diligent exploration of ancient and modern sources, this book brings to eye-opening life the richly textured world—populated by the magnificently sordid, calculating, and reckless Herods, their families, and their courts—into which both John and Jesus were born. John the Baptizer is a captivating tapestry of power and dissent, ambition and self-sacrifice, worldly and otherworldly desire, faith, and doubt.

A straightforward historical portrayal of John might be interesting in and of itself, but the unique and creative mix Hansen offered put this one on the top of my reading list.

Most of the time the publishers blurb has an element of hyperbole to it – depending on the quality of the book in question this can be annoying or flat out deceptive – but in my opinion this one really does capture the book.

More on why below.The first paragraph relates to the second.  Hansen’s use of a wide variety of sources – and the gnostic Mandeans in particular – are what give the work its unique flavor or perspective.  Hansen doesn’t simply bring a historical view to the story.  Yes, his skillful writing brings the ancient world to life; to the point you almost feel like you are reading a primary source not a novel. But he weaves into this historical story a mystic, spiritual, almost dream like element.

And on a number of levels it is in contrast that the novel builds its power.  There is the dual elements noted above that surround John’s story: the historical and political context of his time and region, and the simple ascetic nature of his life and mission, are contrasted with the mystical and supernatural nature of his life from a birth under a star to his time spent with Nasurai.

In the same way, John’s story and mission is stands in stark contrast with the history of what Kirkus so aptly describes as “the semi-pagan Herod clan.  A tempestuous, incestuous convergence of two royal Israelite dynasties produces Herod the Great.”

This altering between a history pregnant with spirituality and a history full of debauchery, between the simple asceticism that emphasizes self-sacrifice and the gaudy, greedy and power hungry trappings of royalty, pushes the novel forward as everyone familiar with story knows that the two will meet in a violent climax.

This mix might not be attractive to everyone, the Kirkus review concludes:

A curious melange of the sacred and profane, but always captivating when the sinners are onstage.

But I think Publishers Weekly has it right:

The juxtaposition of stark realism and religious loftiness has its perplexing moments, but it’s precisely what will keep the pages turning.

To me Hansen balanced these two aspects to incredible effect.  The contrast of the sacred and the profane – and how often they mixed in provocative ways in the ancient world – are what drove the story.  And it is only by presenting this wider lens on the connection between John and gnosticism, and other by now largely forgotten sects, that Hansen offers more than just a fictionalized history of John; takes it from history to art/literature.

Which is why I found the novel as advertised:

Gripping as literary historical fiction, and fascinating as a diligent exploration of ancient and modern sources … a captivating tapestry of power and dissent, ambition and self-sacrifice, worldly and otherworldly desire, faith, and doubt.

It might seem to odd to describe a literary exploration such as this as gripping but I was pulled into it and wanted to spend all my time reading it; “a captivating tapestry” is a perfect description.

I should note that obviously orthodox Christians will not agree with many of the theological elements found in the story.  Classical Christianity did eventually declare gnosticism heresy after all.  And some might find the interaction of John and Jesus – or more specifically the disciples of John and Jesus – provocative.

And the supernatural element is clearly not historical in the academic sense.

But to get hung up on these issue is to miss the nature of the work.  This is not a thinly disguised catechism, or a loosely fictionalized history, but a work of literature with all the complexity and provocation that can involve.

No matter your faith background, or lack of it, or your knowledge of the Bible, or lack of it, I highly recommend John The Baptizer.  Its blends the historical and the literary in ways that defy genre and subject matter to create a powerful story.