There is no better hope made available to us other than hope in Christ. Eric Bolash
When the Bible talks about blessedness it doesn’t mean I had ice cream today and drive a BMW. Eric Bolash
Jesus first comes to a people before a place. You need to change first. Brent Campbell
Politics are Christians outsourcing the Gospel to other people. Brent Campbell
Be careful what you mentally rehearse. Eric Bolash, from his own mentor.
Holy Amnesia- not remembering our shortcomings pushed by guilt, but propelled by the perfect holiness of Christ. (loosely interpreted) Edward Dixon
He has it all in his hands. I couldn’t mess it up even if I wanted to. Nick Greene
Transformation has to do with the way the walls separating us from others and from our deepest self begin to disappear. Jean Vanier
Transformation gives us the audacity to advance along a road of unknowing. Jean Vanier
Free advice coming from me this month. If you like to read, stick a book you can freely pick up and put down in the center console of your car. My fellow fellow, fella Tim, reminded me of such a brilliant idea. Pull it out when you are early to an event. If it is nice out, go on a walk with it shoved in the back of your pants like a pastor, find a bench and read. Do not—I repeat—DO NOT read and drive, you buffoons.
My center console book that I am rereading during this period is Living Gently in a Violent World, written by the late Jean Vanier (1929-2019) and Stanley Hauerwas. Vanier was initially a French philosopher who, after a divine intervention moment, was responsible for L’Arche communities getting more attention. If you have read much Henri Nouwen, you’d know the significance of L’Arche communities. Nouwen’s life was completely changed with his life engaging with Adam, a disabled member of the L’Arche community (read about it in his book, Adam: God’s Beloved). The L’Arche US website gives this for the description, “We are L’Arche. We are a people with and without intellectual disabilities living, working, praying, and playing together in community.” Vanier established L’Arche in 1964, and reconciliation between peoples has been occurring ever since. With noticeably difficult conditions and treatments of disabled people at the time, there was a need for the faith community to step in somehow. Hauerwas is a theologian currently teaching at Duke University and has to be one of my favorite voices in the world of justice in a theological realm.
Again, you should read the book. I will not get into the bulk of the essays by both, but there is some beauty in how each have found a way to walk faithfully the path set by God for them. Hauerwas, at a talk last fall at Hi-Wire Brewing in Durham, was quoted for saying, “I went to seminary to see if this all was true,” referring to the Christian faith. The skeptics that brought him into theological academia were the same internal pushes from the Holy Spirit that brought Vanier face to face with the broken relationships we have with disabled people.
Over this past weekend while all of my attention was fixated upon taking the LSAT, a big report was published. On Saturday, Christianity Today put out a report that included an investigation into Jean Vanier due to six women coming out to reveal allegations towards sexual misconduct. Go and read it for the full details. I am not going to give a cliche about how all good things come to an end, because this wrecked me pretty substantially. The only other time I had felt somehow betrayed by someone of high regard was when Evan Stephens Hall (singer/guitarist for Pinegrove) was reported to have sexual coercion allegations against him. Both of these figures were doing something incredible for the Kingdom (whether they were totally cognisant of it or not). Evan preached on stage, giving voice and empowerment to areas and people who had none. He also makes incredible music. As a follower of both, this felt like a personal attack on me. My reaction probably constituted a public personal response, but in a sobering effort I sought God instead.
How do we respond when our heroes are just as vulnerable as us? They had it figured out, and God you still couldn’t save them from themselves? Save the victims from them? How could so much wisdom and goodness be gifted, only to be forgotten in detrimental ways? Establishing a worldview in which these voices are loudest can lead us to demise if too much weight and faith is in human exemplars of Christ.
A consistent theme in my life, and I imagine one in the lives of most religious people, is that of what to do when we fall? JD Greear wrote a book, Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart: How to Know for Sure You Are Saved, which was more a push against a pious false narrative that when we sin we must repent, re-ask Jesus back into our heart, promising never to do it again, only to fall a month later. This is an exhausting episode of life if we continue to strive so hard for so long, and let ourselves down.
I think of Church of the Apostles (where we Fellows are stationed for the year) and the sermon series in which we are in going through Hebrews. I am going to word vomit the past two months of sermons now. Throughout we are learning of sentiments that position us not to neglect our need for God’s redeeming grace, to know that Jesus took a position lower than angels to accomplish our salvation, that he came lower to know fully our suffering so he could step in with us. The good stuff comes in chapters seven and eight, when we learn that we have a great high priest sitting at the right hand of majesty in Heaven, and that great high priest is the greatest hope we can hold onto. Hebrews 10:14 says, “For by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy,” (NIV). He, being Jesus, and those being made holy being us.
Last night, our church put on a pretty remarkable Ash Wednesday service, complete with dimmed lights, periods of kept silence, ASH, and a great homily from one of our professors. I didn’t know what to do about the service, it all felt gloomy (intentional) and somewhat ambiguous. But low and behold, on my drive home my brilliant host brother, Perk, revealed to me what his takeaway was. One of the prayers we prayed had instruction to hate the sins that God has already forgiven us for, through Christ’s death. There is a turn here, call to repentance if you might. This lent season seems to be defined by prayer and fasting, ultimately to be more in tune with God and establishing a deeper understanding of Christ’s sacrifice. Both of the practices seem to be disciplines for eradicating the barriers we put up in our life in between Christ and ourselves—sin.
Now that we are back on the subject with a few scriptural pieces and a service to back me up, I am going to shed light on one of the more profound pieces that has helped me reconcile my heart to Jesus in light of the sin I have experienced. I look to John Steinbeck and his book East of Eden. To even attempt to pull out a small section from this masterpiece may be considered sinful, for which I repent and won’t publicly do again.
~At this point I became fully aware of the fact that this is 2 ½ Google doc pages long, so I am not even going to give you, the people, what you want. Go read East of Eden yourselves. I am so sorry.~
In all honesty, I dream of the day where I can see Jesus face to face, and finally know that there was someone who conquered sin. I will continue to follow people whose voices are pushing me towards the kingdom, knowing fully that, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” (Romans 3:23, NIV). We have to hold that in contention with what we are told in Hebrews as well, that despite it, we have a high priest who is not only approachable and willing to take our sin, but loves us in a way we cannot comprehend. Learn to hate the sin and not the sinner when it comes to our heroes. Will Campbell, a Southern Baptist preacher making noise in the civil rights era, was once asked how he can love the oppressed black community and still minister to KKK members. Campbell responded with, “Well, I guess it’s because I am a goddamned Christian.” Again, to quote my soul-friend Will Campbell summing up the Gospel, “We are all bastards, but God loves us anyways.”
Obviously I hope you read this and are pushed somehow to systematically rid of sin in your life, seek God and forgiveness within it, the power to continue further, all that jazz. But if you haven’t already noticed I like to pull from people who speak freer than me in books, poetry, articles, etc. Had it not been for the authors in my life, I wouldn’t understand Christ as I do now: regardless of the author believes in and preaches a Christian God. All I am saying is pick up more books. Get a Good Reads account online to track, get recommendations, and see how far you have come. Friend Jack and I, he loves Stephen King and I shoot myself in the foot for reading six books at once. Call me self-rigtheous, but call me.
Thanks,
Austin