Funeral and Gospel

Nothing quite concentrates the mind like the sight of a coffin, especially when you knew the person whose body is inside. Eloquently, profoundly, it speaks of closure, of a certain finality, that things will never be the same again. Death suddenly isn't an abstraction, isn't a distant concept, or a matter of biology or medicine. It's there, raw, in your face. Nor can it be fudged: this is not a moment to say one thing and mean another. A modicum of ambiguity over some issues might be helpful to those grieving, but it is generally a moment of looking for certainties to hang on to.

Today, I attended the funeral of J., about whom I blogged before Christmas. As befits a Christian funeral, it was full of hope, full of celebration of life, full of thanksgiving. I was struck by a few things while I was there: first, how seldom I find myself at funerals; second, how few people under the age of 50 were present (just a few close family members, and a couple of church folks); and so, third, how very rare it is for people outside the church community - my colleagues, for example - to go to a funeral, other than that of a close family member.

I've heard it said before that in our modern society, we are very much insulated from the realities of death and dying: I, for example, have never seen a dead body, in all my 40 years of life. But I think the truth goes further than that: with a few tragic exceptions, most people don't really encounter death very much. Many will be in their 30s before their grandparents die. Many will be in their 50s or even 60s before they start to find their friends dying.
For an emerging generation, as it were, death is almost unreal. (I guess that makes the death of a teenager, say, all the more traumatic. But I digress.)

But then this thought struck me: is it a valid one?: in former times, it was very natural to describe the gospel in terms of eternal consolation, in terms of repenting to receive eternal life. Death was all around: in close-knit communities with primitive medicine, the issue of "what happens when you die" surely came up a lot. Today, in the affluent West, life is different.

You can't say that the New Testament doesn't feature this aspect of the gospel: it's a major theme, of course. But it's not all. It's not a particularly large part of Christ's teaching. So it shouldn't come as a shock that many emerging writers tend to concentrate the on the gospel of the Kingdom, here and now, rather than upon hellfire and pearly gates. It's not about denying bible truth; it's not about ignoring eternal consolation; it is about getting a Christ-centred emphasis which strikes a chord and makes a difference for people celebrating life today.

Time for a review: "Everything must change"

Brian McLaren
Everything Must Change


I didn't enjoy this book. I wanted to. As with A Generous Orthodoxy, the central message struck a chord with me. But as the old review says, "this book is both new and original. Sadly, the good parts are not original, and the original parts are not good." And it's waaaay to long.

I can't quite decide whom McLaren is addressing with this book. The message that "Everything Must Change" is broadly targetted upon a kind of Evangelicalism which emphasises belief over action, structure over relationship, power over brotherhood, and so on. But although I guess
there must be churches out there which are "like that", I have to say that I've never encountered one. McLaren writes as if he is addressing the whole world, but the message seems to be written truly for a particular introspective, carricature of a right-wing American bible-belt capitalist christian whose main interest in the gospel is some kind of pie-in-the-sky-when-you die. Do those people exist? I don't know. Not being in that millieu, it's hard to tell.

Take, for example, the oft-invoked idea of the Kingdom, preached by Jesus. Almost everyone I've ever heard speak on the subject has emphasised the transforming nature of the gospel for the here and now; how Christians are to be "bringing in the kingdom" in their lives, and
actions, attitudes, and relationships. But McLaren writes as if this is a brand-new idea. One chapter sets up a contrast between a "Conventional View" of Jesus, and an "Emerging View": but I don't think I know anyone who entirely holds the former viewpoint. The book
seems replete with straw men and false dichotomies.

But McLaren is a pastor and teacher; he's good at expounding scripture. I would say that much of what he says about Jesus and the gospel would be uncontroversial in my part of the world -- or at least, familiar, even if tending to perspectives some would dismiss as "liberal". He's a good story-teller, too, and many of his best points are made by the tales he tells. Much of the book, though, deals with philosophy, politics and economics. And I fear it does all of these quite badly. And he goes overboard with the the whole postmodern thing, with endless references to "framing stories". I think we got the message.

To help the reader use the book in a discussion context, each chapter ends with questions for the group. After reading these for the first few chapters, wanting to retain my lunch, I avoided them thereafter. I'd advise other readers to do the same.

I seem to be writing rather negatively about this book. It's not that I'm on the side of the conservative Evangalicals who would want to dismiss McLaren as a heretic (he might be, but my mind's not made up; and perhaps we need more heretics anyway). It's not that I don't
accept that the radical message of Jesus has to be interpreted for our generation, and to question the foundational assumptions (or framing stories, if you prefer) of our society, our community, our church. It's just that I don't think the book was written for people like me,
and I wish it had used about half as many words.



[Aside: I know lots of people blogged through their reading of this book when it came out a few months ago. I avoided reading them. Now I will go back and revisit others' perspectives. A second blog post may be in order as a result.]