Review: Lifted, by Sam Allberry

Posted at 3:59 PM

For many years now I seem to remember hearing a very similar sermon on Easter Sunday. It goes something like this: “There is plenty of evidence to show that Jesus truly rose from the dead. It is not only reasonable to believe, but a good idea. You should become a Christian.” Okay, I’m dreadfully paraphrasing and almost mocking such a sermon, but for many years when I thought of the resurrection this was it. I gave a talk to my year group at school on evidence for the resurrection of Christ. I got into conversations with friends about it. All this was good, but my thinking about what the resurrection means for me, and not just an unconvinced unbeliever, was very much in its infancy.

I guess it’s for people like me, then, that Sam Allberry wrote Lifted: Experiencing the resurrection life. Because as Sam writes so clearly, the resurrection is not just something to celebrate one day a year; the resurrection of Christ is profoundly relevant to the believer throughout their life. In the introduction he writes: “The resurrection changes everything. It guarantees our forgiveness, empowers us to change, and gives us a hope for the future and an urgent mission in the present.” It’s these four areas that he explores in the rest of the book, and I was struck in turn by each. What I particularly appreciated was the Old Testament context given for many of the things Sam writes about, but also the way that he teases out so many implications of the fact that Christ has been raised. He does what he sets out to do, in showing how important the resurrection was for the writers of the New Testament, and how it should be important to us.

I’m not going to summarise the book, but here’s a few people who will find it particularly helpful. Firstly, the struggling Christian. Buy this book and let the assurance that Christ’s resurrection brings encourage you and spur you on. Let the confidence in God’s transforming work change your attitude to the inevitableness of sin. Let the hope of a new creation help you face the trials of this life. Secondly, the confident Christian. Buy this book and remind yourself of the miracle of new life that’s yours in Christ. Dig down deep into the Bible’s teaching on resurrection. Remind yourself that there is a life to come, and therefore an urgency in mission. Thirdly, the new Christian. Perhaps it was the resurrection of Christ that finally convinced you that he was who he said. Take that further, and see all the astounding truths that God declared by raising Christ from the dead. See what being raised with Christ means more fully. Finally, anyone who has never really stopped to think about the implications of the resurrection. I’d say I was probably one of these, and that this book has been fantastic to see all that God was doing through raising Christ from the dead.

The New Testament is saturated with Christ’s resurrection. We follow a Lord and Saviour who declares that he is “the resurrection and the life”. Sam Allberry’s book would be a fantastic way to grasp that truth further and let it shape your life. Above all, whether you fit one of my examples above or not, let this book move you to praise and proclaim Christ, the risen king!

(Lifted is released on the 15th January 2010, published by IVP.)

Review: You Can Change, by Tim Chester

Posted at 5:38 PM

Is there a secret knack to holiness? Why can’t I stop sinning? Tim Chester’s book You Can Change mines the resources of pastor-theologians down the ages who have pointed to the human heart as the root of sin, and therefore the necessity of God’s power to change us. Tim tells the reader that yes, you can change, because it’s not down to you – it’s God’s work, that we participate in. By addressing the twin errors of unbelief (where our mind believes lies) and idolatry (where our heart is set on something other than God to satisfy), he shows us how to take part in the fight of faith, armed with God’s truth and a heartwarming knowledge and love of him. Tim Chester has written a book to help Christians go after real change in their lives, but is not glibly unrealistic about the endeavour. He shows that, just as our Christian lives started with faith and repentance, through coming to Christ crucified, so it is as they carry on. Becoming more holy is not a work we achieve, but a result of grace.

I’ve begun studying Colossians recently, and it struck me that right at the heart of the letter is the same message:

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. (Colossians 2:6-7, NIV.)

We can’t move on from Christ in the Christian life, because it ceases to be Christian. The Colossians were being tempted away from the sufficiency of Christ, seemingly to rules and experiences that would offer the “next level” of the Christian life, even perhaps a life free of sin (Colossians 2:16-23). Paul assures them that Christ is all they need. Sure, rules have the appearance of wisdom, but in reality have no power. When it comes to fighting sin and pursuing holiness, if the basis of change is not faith in Christ, it has no ultimate power. (I seem to have been banging a similar drum recently. What can I say? The Christian life is all about grace, and as Relay workers we get constantly reminded of this!)

As I finish this review, it turns out I’m not the best at writing them. In summary, this is an incredibly helpful book, and I’d recommend it highly. Tim suggests that you pick a particular “change project” to think about as you work through the book, and has questions at the end of each chapter to help you think this through in the light of what’s been said. I’ve also heard the suggestion that it’d be a good book to work through with friends. Both of these suggestions are excellent ones. Get a copy! (Also read a blog entry he’s written on one of the topics he covers.)

Jekyll and Hyde

Posted at 4:07 PM

Last night I went to see Jekyll and Hyde, a musical based on the novella by Robert Louis Stevenson. Everyone knows the basic idea – good Henry Jekyll transforms into evil Edward Hyde – but there are slightly different versions of the story around. My only knowledge of the specifics comes from a quotation in Tim Keller’s book The Reason for God, but that excerpt was enough to make me want to see the musical, let alone the fact that my housemate was the musical director!

Musically it’s a wonderful show, and the cast did particularly well on the ensemble numbers. The transformation of Jekyll into Hyde was done brilliantly by both the actor, the costume department and the lighting team. The two lead female roles were excellently cast; the choreography was done very well – I could go on, but my intention is not to review this production, nor really to write about the music itself (though it did leave me thinking “wouldn’t it be great to write a musical?”). The thing that I was constantly thinking about during the performance, however, were the things the show was saying about the nature of humanity, and particularly human sin.

The Dark Knight

Posted at 12:29 PM

Tom and I got absolutely soaked on the way to see the Dark Knight last night. About twenty seconds before we were due to leave, it started pouring with so much rain I felt I was back in the tropics – even in rainy Bristol this was impressive! The roads in the city centre became like shallow rivers in places, and the water came up above the toes of my shoes. We arrived, epitomising the word bedraggled, and fortunately found there were still tickets left.

Once the film had started, we didn’t notice any more, because it’s one of those films that doesn’t let up the pace throughout the (almost three hours long) film. In terms of reviewing the film, I’ve not much to say; I enjoyed it a lot, Heath Ledger is as good as the reviewers say he is, and there’s lots of action, good dialogue and fun set-pieces. As before, though, one of the best parts of the film was some of the moral questions it raises. (Spoilers follow.)

The most interesting one came towards the end, with the introduction of Two-Face, the corrupted district attorney (read “chief prosecuting lawyer”) Harvey Dent. Dent is driven mad by the death of his girlfriend at the hands of the Joker; the concept of what is “fair” emerges, and Dent’s conclusion is that the only thing that’s fair is to leave things up to chance:

You thought we could be decent men in an indecent world. But you were wrong; the world is cruel, and the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased. Unprejudiced. Fair.

Morality is only determined by chance; in the end, we don’t make the moral decision, but chance decides. That is the only way to be fair.

Now, this isn’t the morality the film portrays, but as a result Tom and I got discussing where morality comes from.

In the world of the film, Batman is portrayed as morally good, despite being a violent, law-breaking vigilante. Why? He wants to save people from pain, fear and death, and in his view the end justifies his means. Here, the highest good is to improve life for humans, in some sense whatever the cost. Batman’s moral philosophy, then, is a form of humanism. When thinking about this I was struck with a similarity to the Operative from the Firefly universe:

The Operative: I believe in something greater than myself. A better world. A world without sin.
Mal Reynolds: So me and mine gotta lay down and die… so you can live in your better world?
The Operative: I’m not going to live there. There’s no place for me there… any more than there is for you. Malcolm… I’m a monster. What I do is evil. I have no illusions about it, but it must be done.

Both the Operative and Batman do what might be considered morally wrong (the Operative more so), in order that a better society might emerge – a society that, ironically, they can have no part in given what they do. It’s not quite the same with Batman, who can merely leave the cape behind and return to a normal life, but the parallel struck me nevertheless.

So Batman is a humanist, who sees a greater morality than individual actions – the long-term good justifies the short-term wrong. I guess in this situation we have to ask: who decides that this is right? Who decides whether this long-term good is the right one, if it’s at the expense of (even minor) short-term wrong?

I’m going on for far longer than I’ve planned, so I’ll not go into the humanist understanding of where morality comes from. I don’t find it convincing, however, to think that humans can logically deduce what is right and wrong; I can’t see how the concepts of good and evil make any sense in an atheistic worldview. This quotation by Richard Dawkins is probably the most commonly used by Christians, but it fits here:

In a universe of electrons and selfish genes, blind physical forces and genetic replication, some people are going to get hurt, other people are going to get lucky, and you won’t find any rhyme or reason in it, nor any justice. The universe that we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but pitiless indifference.

If this is the case, then Two-Face might just be right that chance is the only morality. If that leaves an unpleasant taste, that’s because it’s not true. Not only does morality come from a loving, perfect God, this loving, perfect God is sovereign over everything – and so a pragmatism in morality like Batman’s is unnecessary. We’re called to live morally in whatever situation; God will sort out the outcome. We can trust him that in the end, all will be well.

Hamlet

Posted at 10:49 AM

In keeping with the “new me” who has recently rediscovered the joys of culture as a good gift from God and not something inherently “unspiritual”, I went to see Hamlet last night. I’ve never seen a live Shakespeare tragedy, so it was something I was looking forward to greatly (particularly as the Tobacco Factory do great Shakespeare). I was going with a friend who’d not ever seen Hamlet, but was a fan of Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (based on arguably pointless characters in Hamlet). So we were both quite excited, though wondering if we were just going to be thoroughly depressed by Hamlet moping for three hours. (Major plot points mentioned in the next paragraph – just in case someone cares.)

Turns out he was a very excitable and – though depressed – lively and almost comic character, so not a stereotypical Hamlet in any way, but brilliant none the less. An incredibly young-looking Ophelia was suitably melancholic; Polonius, (“brevity is the soul of wit”) wonderfully long-winded; and Claudius and Gertrude suitably guilt-ridden, schmaltzy and scheming as the situation demanded. You’re left guessing as to what’s going on in Hamlet’s head, and it makes Ophelia’s death and Hamlet’s reaction all the more poignant when up until then it had seemed that his desire for revenge had made him forget his love for her.

On Sunday we’d been discussing how Christians should engage with art that portrays immoral acts – is it okay to enjoy watching a tragedy like this, where none of the main characters (excepting Ophelia) seem to be those you can sympathise with? Is portrayal of sin outside of the oft-quoted Philippians verse: “whatever is noble and praiseworthy, think about such things”? Maybe I’ll come back to that another time. I did enjoy it, despite the tragic ending – almost because of the tragic ending! The play shows a world tainted by sin, and its consequences. It’s not enjoyable because I’m delighting in the sin shown, but as an act of creative genius that shows us our own natures. God in his grace has restrained human sinfulness in many ways, because if he hadn’t, many more stories would end up like Hamlet’s. If reading or watching such things was wrong, then we couldn’t read much of Old Testament history!

More and more I’m seeing the wonders of God’s gift of creativity. I pray that I won’t now go to the extreme and put art in the place of God (exchanging the giver for the gift). Art was made by God, and points to God: may I never lose sight of that.