Musings on longing

Posted at 6:28 PM

What does it mean to be satisfied? If I’m hungry, then to be satisfied means to eat. If I’m thirsty, it means to drink. If I long for security… what’s it mean then? A safe home to go to? A parent or spouse to look after me? A job to provide me with the money I need?

What if I long for acceptance? If the group of people I want to be part of accepts me, am I truly satisfied, or am I fearful they might find out who I am and reject me? What if I long to be part of a loving community? I look everywhere for one, and when I find one, it quickly becomes essential. What if it’s taken from me? What if someone from it hurts me?

What does it mean to be satisfied? Is it even possible?

I’ve written before about similar themes, but the idea struck me again recently, as I was watching the Joss Whedon TV series Dollhouse. The final episode showed us characters we’d grown to know a few years on from the previous episode. A lot of it showed us relationships, community and camaraderie that hadn’t been possible before. The episode ended with bittersweet hope – an imperfection that seemed to press onwards to something better, an aspiration coming out of a horrific past. You were left wanting more.

More of what, though? More episodes? Well, yes – but the final episode was of such a different style that I don’t think that was all. There was more – there was a desire to see a conclusion. You were left on a cliffhanger in many ways, and it was unsatisfying – not just because we always want to know what happens next (or in this case, what happens before too), but because we instinctively think there’s something better to come. There’s got to be a conclusion.

Why? Practically speaking, there doesn’t necessarily have to be one. Fox could cancel the series before anything is resolved (hello, Firefly). Joss Whedon could decide to write a distinctly unsatisfying ending as an artistic statement (hello, Dr Horrible). We want a conclusion, yes, but don’t we also feel like we should get one?

If the metanarrative we live under is evolutionary, then this is the opposite of what we should expect: we should expect survival of the fittest, no order or reason to the world. But there’s a desire, somewhere, that we strive to satisfy, that makes no sense if we live in a world merely of chaos. Where does the human striving for eternity and infinity come from? Why do we have such desires unless there’s something that can satisfy them?

Sticking with Joss Whedon TV shows, let’s think briefly about Firefly. If you don’t know, Firefly was cancelled after thirteen episodes, yet spawned a vast fanbase who were successful enough in their campaigning that Whedon got to direct a sequel in the form of a major studio movie (Serenity). The focus of the show is the crew of a smuggling ship on a future Wild West type frontier (in space). The community created around Mal Reynolds, the captain, is central, and even the place they all live (the spaceship Serenity) is described by Whedon as the “tenth character”. What constitutes home is a recurring theme, particularly between the ship’s mechanic Kaylee and the ship’s doctor Simon (formerly very rich, but now roughing it while fleeing the police). For Kaylee, the ship is home; Simon can’t see it that way, but begins to change as the people begin to mean more and more to him.

The series ends with the sister-like banter between two of the female crew members: Kaylee and River playing a game together. The series ends, and Browncoats (the name taken by the fan community) the world over mourn and petition the network to order a second season. Why such a strong reaction? Yes, it’s excellent TV and the series ends with unanswered questions. But is there something more? Is the community portrayed throughout the series something we want to see more of; something we desire for ourselves? I’m beginning to think it is.

Where we are in Bible history is in the now and the not yet, the groaning before the recreation of all things. Christ has won the victory, and we’re waiting for the consummation. We mourn our messed-up world, and yet we have a certain hope in a glorious future through the resurrection of Christ. Life can be bittersweet. Isn’t this why these things resonate with us so much? I enjoy watching the film where everything isn’t perfect by the end, because it’s real, but it can’t satisfy in itself – surely it points, albeit unknowingly, to something else?

Zach Braff’s film Garden State is such a film. Andrew Largeman, Braff’s character, starts the film with medication suppressing his emotions, but gradually experiences more as the film progresses. About two-thirds of the way through, he has a discussion with Sam, played by Natalie Portman, about what home is:

You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? … It just sort of happens one day, one day and it’s just gone. And you can never get it back. It’s like you get homesick for a place that doesn’t exist. I don’t know maybe it’s like this rite of passage, you know. You won’t have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start. It’s like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

The film ends with the line “I don’t know”. In some ways the film is completely unrealistic, but its conclusion seems more real than yet another perfect Hollywood romance. Real, but is it satisfying? Don’t we want the Disney ending?

The metanarrative of the Bible is a love story, whose hero dies and is raised from the dead in order to win for himself a spotless bride. The Bible story is real – it fits with our desires, how the world is – and it’s true. Ask questions, tear it apart, see how it works – it makes sense of how the world is. And its story is glorious.

There’s so much out there in the world that is raising a longing in people – a longing for community, for home, for security, for love, for acceptance, for peace, for beauty. It’s found in films, in TV, in the papers each day. If we keep looking, it’s found in the questions our friends are asking, the emotions they’re feeling, the people they spend time with, the films they enjoy. The gospel is what they need; the Bible story that tells us why things are bittersweet now, but also why we can be “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” because of a future hope. As we tell people about Jesus, let’s not forget that he alone satisfies, as the water of life held out to the thirsty. Let’s not forget that he is beautiful if eyes are opened to see him; to follow him is good and right. Christianity is not just a belief system, but an incredible encounter with the God who made us, and provides a hope of one day, every tear being wiped away and every longing satisfied.

We’re quite good in dealing with the mind and reason in our apologetics; let’s endeavour to engage the heart too. I’ve met so many people this year for whom the intellectual arguments mean nothing; they just can’t see the attraction in coming to Christ. Let’s show them why it’s glorious.

Grace and godliness

Posted at 6:38 PM

My former staff worker Jim Walford hasn’t been blogging long, but he’s been consistently writing brilliant entries. His latest is no different:

All too often CUs can be not much more than holy huddles of students with very little evangelistic endeavour and no real commitment to prayer. And this is something we need to challenge. But the answer is not to remove things we normally associate with church life like systematic teaching from the Bible and times of singing and praise. Remove these from the CU meeting and all zeal for evangelism and prayer will die.

Why is this? Well, Jim answers the question better than me, so go read his article. In short: the more we love and delight in God and his gospel, the more we’ll want to tell people about him; stirring up joy in our hearts is the best motivation for evangelism there is!

It strikes me that this principle is extendable beyond gospel proclamation. When I sin, it’s because I believe that it will give me more satisfaction than following God. How then do I confront sin? I remind myself of the glorious gospel, and delight myself in God once again. It’s in seeing more of God and his grace towards us that motivates us to change, as we see that in living for him we can find true joy. We fight the fire of sin’s pleasures with a burning passion for God that’s greater (to paraphrase John Piper heavily).

Secondly, how is it that we grow as Christians? Grace spurs us onto lives of godliness. Paul writes to Titus:

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope – the appearing of the glory of our great God and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. (Titus 2:11-14, TNIV.)

How can grace teach us? Surely the more we understand God’s grace to us in Christ, the more we’ll want to live our lives for him. The joy of our salvation will overflow into obedience. John Piper comments on Twitter:

‘Right behavior’ without right feeling is not really right behavior.

This joy isn’t optional; it’s the necessary starting place, otherwise our good works will be done out of duty or legalism.

So fight sin by cultivating joy in God; godliness, too, should grow in response to God’s grace; and as Jim writes, having our hearts stirred to admire and love Christ more will mean we want to share him with others. It’s all tied up together; we love God more because of the cross, as it shows us God’s love for us despite our sin; our love for God inspires our worship, in resisting sin, growing in godliness, loving the lost and living and speaking for him. Grace doesn’t just save us in the past, but changes us in the present, and gives us a glorious future. God’s salvation is truly awesome.

Environmentalism, culture, and evangelism

Posted at 4:36 PM

Last week while recording a concert, somehow Sara and I got talking about environmentalism. Oddly enough, though we’d never discussed the issue before, it seemed like just the kind of thing we’d talked about before, for reasons that will become apparent.

Environmentalism is one of those issues which many Christians have lost their way about. One the one hand, you have Christians who would make the following argument. God is sovereign over his creation, and therefore this stuff about man-made disaster, human-caused global warming, and the necessity of working hard to save the planet from destruction, is all a load of nonsense. Some might add that the world is getting worse, and that this is a sign of the second coming of Christ and so is in some ways a good thing. Working to save the environment shows a distrust in God’s goodness and his sovereignty. That, and environmentalism is very much a “liberal” cause, and as such shouldn’t be considered worth pursuing by “conservatives”. It’s nothing more than nature-worship, and therefore idolatry.

On the other hand, you have Christians for whom the environment becomes the one cause worth fighting for. We’ve messed up God’s creation, and it’s now up to us to put it right. It can combine a low view of God’s sovereignty (“there’s nothing God can do about it, we’ve got to do something”) with a right view of creation (it’s something good, corrupted by the fall, but still something of value). Environmentalism becomes our way of helping our messed-up world.

Neither can be right, because neither have the whole picture. The latter is missing the gospel of salvation for sinners, replacing it with a creation-centric idea about humans saving the world through their own effort. The world needs saving, yes – but sin is the more pressing issue, surely?

But the former view is missing a biblical view of creation. God created this world, and the fall doesn’t negate the first thing he tells humans to do: “fill the earth and subdue it”. The word translated “subdue” doesn’t mean what the first group might think it does – it’s actually similar to the “take care” imperative of the later chapters. Creation is a good gift from God, given to us to look after and steward. If we don’t care about the environment, we’re guilty of ignoring God’s command to us. Sure, the world’s biggest issue is its rebellion against God; but that doesn’t mean that green issues don’t matter!

It’s similar to the view that some hold about social action. I’d never heard of this buzz phrase until a few years ago, when I first heard about the Noise. My initial reaction was exactly what I’m writing against now: I thought it was time and resources better spent telling people the gospel.

The issue, though, is that Christians become very next-world centred, and are seen to not be living “in the real world”. Obviously there’s a large extent to which we don’t conform to the ways of this world, and are going to be distinctive. But our God is a God who cares about this physical world now. Psalm 145:9 says “He has compassion on all he has made”. This shows itself in many ways, but one way the Bible mentions is God’s care for the people he has made. The book of Amos is written about people ignoring the poor and treating them with injustice. Parts of the Old Testament law were designed to keep the ground productive and look after the environment of the promised land so it would remain fertile. God cares about this world and its people – not just that they might be saved. He shows grace to everyone, though saving grace only to some.

If we live in a Christian bubble, only caring about whom we can invite to the next evangelistic event, or about spiritual conversations, we’re going to be highly unattractive people to the world. Christians must be those who look after physical needs in their communities, who care for the environment, because that’s the kind of God that God is, and not to do so would be to say the spiritual is all that matters. It’s not; that idea is called Gnosticism and owes more to Greek philosophy than the Bible.

It’s a similar issue with culture and creativity. It’s very easy for Christians to withdraw completely, spend all their time together, creating Christian art for Christian consumers, not involved with the culture of the day. I’ve heard people describe music written by non-Christians as immoral, and seen Christians applauding those who have thrown out their secular record collections. I know some of it is immoral, but a lot of it isn’t! Most of it is showing God’s common grace to humanity. Steve Turner writes in his book Imagine:

…[T]here are areas of daily living where the experience of the Christian is no different from that of the agnostic, atheist or believer in false gods. For example, I like relaxing in a warm bath. If I were to discuss this with anyone, regardless of belief, they would at least know what I meant even if they didn’t share my enthusiasm. Uniting us would be our common humanity. We all laugh, cry, eat, sleep and sweat, and some of us take baths.

Sport and singing, chocolate or cheese appreciation, wine tasting, cooking, travelling – none of these things are inherently “anti-Christian”, but part of the common ground between Christians and non-Christians. We’re all human, and we all start from the same place.

We can cut ourselves off from culture, get ourselves in a nice little ghetto, and have no effect on the world around us. We can go to the other extreme and lose our integrity as we engage with culture. Or, we can see creativity and culture as good gifts of God, corrupted by the fall but still worth something, and use God’s gifts to reflect his glory back to him.

We don’t solve the world’s biggest problem by singing, or saving electricity, or social action. Not to work at these things too, though, is to ignore what God has also told us: to fill the earth, develop it, subdue it; to look after the poor and the oppressed; to reflect his creativity with our own. To say “we’re gospel-focused people, so we don’t bother with that social action stuff” is to be unloving and unlike God.

Another way of looking at this was suggested by a blog entry entitled Evangelicalism and Art by James Cary. The universe exists to bring God glory, and so our priority as Christians is to live to bring God glory. If we put evangelism as our most important priority, then we’re potentially saying that our priority is the salvation of people, and not the glory of God. It’s a subtle distinction, because of course God is greatly glorified through salvation… but not just through salvation! There’s probably more that we could all do to help proclaim the gospel, but that doesn’t mean that nothing else is worth pursuing.

If evangelism is all that matters, then creating art with no evangelistic purpose is therefore a waste of time. Similarly, if evangelism is all that matters, who cares about global warming? Why bother looking after the poor? Why get involved in politics?

There’s far more to life than just scurrying around like sailors on a sinking ship, trying to get as many people as possible into the lifeboats. Cary writes in a comment to Matthew Mason’s blog entry on a related subject:

To place man’s salvation at the centre of everything is breathtakingly arrogant but it happens a lot.

God is glorified through our stewardship of creation, our use of the creativity he gave us, our involvement in society as salt (and not just light!), our care for the poor and the planet, AND our proclaiming of Jesus Christ as Lord, making disciples of all nations. We mustn’t focus on one to the exclusion of others: those Christians who only care about social action, or environmentalism, and forget evangelism, have got it wrong. They’ve got it partly right though, because the reason they went so far away from the “only evangelism and Bible teaching” wing is because that wing is not biblical; it doesn’t paint a full picture of what Christian living is about, and so to want to react against it was a right thing (they just went too far).

Over the coming months the plan is to look at each of these areas in a bit more depth. Currently art and creativity’s the one I’m reading about, but I’m getting Planetwise by Dave Bookless soon, and hoping to borrow Tim Chester’s Good News to the Poor. It’s all about whole-life Christian living, not compartmentalising. I want to live my whole life for Jesus.