Habits of the Mind

	Habits of the Mind--the Christian mind invading sacred and secular space, essays that lift Christian discourse above our fading cultural...

	March 3, 2007 Why the skepticism and hatred for Evangelical political activism? Political pundits, media talking heads, journalists, and bloggers have been offering their take on the republican loss in November and whether the conservative moment, led by (so-called) cultural neo-cons and the evangelical right, has, at the most, begun to recede, or at the least, just hit a temporary block. In fact after listening to hours—literally—of conservative talk radio, I have discovered that not all conservatives like or approve of evangelicals. Evangelicals are hated, railed against, maligned, loathed, vilified, and even laughed at by media. Non-evangelical conservatives use evangelicals when it suits their agenda. Liberals loathe their very presence in the arena. People and politicians are judged and criticized based on their relationship to evangelicals, evangelical leaders (so-called and self-anointed [James Dobson, Jerry Farwell, et. al.] and anything that seems to cross that tall, church-state wall of separation. Despite the current rhetoric, I have a different take on the matter worth considering. Full essay>> Send to a friend, click here
	February 26, 2006 Preoccupied with life’s peripheral issues, forgetting the essentials Life’s lessons often come from most unusual sources. For me, one such lesson came during a driver education session. I was sixteen. And it was not a good session. It was spring, 1974. On a winding New Hampshire road, traffic was backed up behind me for at least a mile. Apparently, I was driving too slowly. Eventually the instructor found a safe place for me to pull over. The car immediately behind us pulled over as well. Not a good sign. The driver didn't even look at me. With noticeable frustration and anger he directed his comments to my instructor. “If the guy can't drive, get him off the road!” The irate motorist returned to his car and the line of traffic continued to file by. I was mortified. My emotions must have registered on my face. “Relax,” the instructor said to me; “we'll get back to driving in a moment.” Right then I wasn't sure I wanted to drive—ever! The instructor gave me time to settle down. Finally he asked, “You know what your problem is?” Yeah, I thought to myself, I can’t drive! “You are concerned about staying between the yellow center line and the white side line,” the instructor continued. “As a result, you drive too slowly and weave back and forth. You are concentrating on the road right in front of you. Try this: Look where you want to be going.” Look where you want to be going. Good advice. It helped me through driver education and to be a reasonably safe driver ever since. It's also good advice for contemporary North American Christians. Our culture tends to make us overly concerned about the road immediately in front of us. Everything from TV sitcoms that solve problems in thirty minutes to fast‑food restaurants and instant‑cash machines put pressure on us. They force us to define ourselves by how we respond to and feel about the immediate—the temporal. Our own moment in time places certain pressures on our churches, and on us. There is temptation to accommodate ourselves with the status quo, to identify with the hedonistic and self-absorbing culture around us. We want to feel comfortable in modernity. We dislike feeling alienated from our surrounding culture, from our democracy. But if we succumb, we will be robbed of our persevering joy—and the power of true Christian identity. We must place our confidence not in the world or the things of the world (1 John 2:15‑17; Romans 12:1‑2) but in the essentials of our faith: the person of Christ, the cross, and the resurrection. Only in doing so can we restore our identity. Only in doing so will the Church be able to persevere amid the tensions of life. A wise Christian once made an interesting observation: For the unbeliever, joy is peripheral and suffering is fundamental; but for the believer, suffering is peripheral and joy is fundamental. Why is that true? For the unbeliever, as Ravi Zacharias observed, the peripheral issues are answered and the fundamental ones are left unanswered. But for the Christian, the fundamental questions of life are answered and the peripheral ones are unanswered. Regrettably, much of the Christian community seems to have lost this basic perspective. We have lost our joy because we have switched the poles of our existence. We have succumbed to our culture's fascination with the now, the immediate. As a result, we are preoccupied with the peripheral issues of life, forgetting the essentials. And this causes us to define both our Christian and church identities by the peripheral issues we face rather than by the eternal, fundamental realities of Christ's death and resurrection. Repeatedly Paul expresses his own sense of joy throughout his writings. Repeatedly, as in the Letter to the Philippians, he asks the congregation to share in his joy (Philippians 1:4, 18, 25‑26; 2:2, 18, 29; 3:1; 4:4, 10). Paul, as he writes to virtually all of the churches, attempts to refocus the Christian community's attention back on the essential, fundamental aspects of the faith: the person of Jesus Christ, the cross and the resurrection. These are the essentials, the things that address the fundamental aspects of life. It is when Christians take their minds off of them, when they concentrate on the details and peripheral matters, do we act and become like the unbelieving community around us. Like my first experience at driving, when we pay attention to the lines aside us and we are paying so close attention to the road right in front of us, we end up weaving back and forth. Getting caught up in the details, the peripheral, we lose the sight (and insight) of the essentials. © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Adapted from my book, Destroying Our Private Cities, a lay-commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Philippians. For more information on the Book and a free-downloadable chapter, click here. Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	October 24, 2005 As long as “why” is in our vocabulary Intelligent Design vs. Evolution, a debate raging today. As in the days when evolution was attempting to gain acceptance, there is much resistance to this new approach to understanding our origins. Those who hold dear the evolutionary theory are resistant to consider ID, nor do they actually consider it worth debating. The debate, nonetheless, is good, even if for the sake of debate, clarity, positing new ideas, keeping everyone in check and honest. I have been drawn back into the debate, little by little, through certain online discussion groups. I have plenty of issues with the theory of evolution (and it is only a theory by the way), mostly because there are still gaps and inconsistencies with the theory. I find it interesting and amusing that humans, if they have evolved from primordial slim, through eons and eons of time, are the most questioning of species. And, it has been noted, in the midst of modern, technological and scientific times, spirituality is on the rise. Actually, this is not to be unexpected. As long as “why” is in our vocabulary, a randomly made universe will not answer the deepest questions of the human soul. “Why is there pain? Why is there suffering?” The cruel, heartless evolved universe and the evolutionary theory has no comfort, not answer to give (except survival of the fitness, of course). C.S Lewis, again a household name with his Narnia hitting the Big Screen, once suggested that only human beings spell pain the way we do. He wrote, we are not satisfied to posit merely the reality of pain; rather, we ask the question within a moral context. Why? We should not be deceived in thinking that pain’s existence necessarily draws the conclusion that God does not exist. If this were a valid conclusion we would be content with simply the description of pain. Rather, pain leads to larger questions of the soul: Why? Asking the question implies someone has the answer. We are not stoics asking this loaded, moral, very human question of the corporeal, amoral, randomly-designed-by-accident-universe. No. We expect an answer. We expect someone to explain. Questioning why is as ancient as Job and his story of suffering and conflict. Interestingly, long before there was “evolution,” ancient writers, such as the author who penned Job’s story, used intelligent design as a reasonable answer to life’s questions. God used an argument from design to help Job understand and come to grips with his own pain. How can a righteous, innocent man suffer? Why? Why? Why? Job shouted. Eventually God broke the seemingly one-sided conversation and appeals to Job with the details and intricacies of the universe, His created universe. In a series of sixty-four questions God presented Job an intelligently designed, yet mysterious, universe. Job could not argue against the splendor. The Designer who had designed this world could also bring design out of his suffering. Job could now see the purpose for all of life through the eyes of God. It does not take a Ph. D. in physics to know that everything that exists points to a designer. Insanity might cling to the concept that a dictionary just happened through eons of time and as a result of an exploding printing press. Silliness prevents us from believing that a watch developed after shaking a box of metal parts. This is why we do not cry out to the randomness that evolutionists want us to believe exists in this uncreated universe. We do not shout at chance, “Why!” A randomly designed universe does not comfort the tormented soul. Never has. Never will. Some might enjoy the playground of self-actualized (survival of the fittest) ethics and the aimless moral climate that a randomly designed universe can offer. But all is dashed when we encounter suffering and pain. Chance does not answer back. Nor can it. For some, perhaps, determinism brings the illusion of comfort, but that is not the experience—or need—of most human beings. There is no answer for our pain from a universe randomly designed by no-thing. Evolution and its theory of the universe is not a satisfying answer to the longing questions of why. No wonder spirituality is on the rise, even as this ID vs. evolution debate continues to make headlines. There is a reason why the ancient story of Job still answers our questioning souls, after all these years, even now in a postmodern, technological era. Like Job we need to begin to understand the questions of pain and suffering by hearing from the Designer of the Universe. Once you see His design, Job’s final words to God will be your own: “I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted…I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You.” There is Someone who can answer our Why? © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	January 8, 2005 Elvis and the face of Jesus It’s my mother’s birthday today, and if he were still alive, it would be Elvis’ birthday, too. (And don’t forget Todd’s, too!). It is already four years into the new century and Elvis seems to be showing up again and again (as an imposter, or maybe the real deal—who knows). Elvis Presley remains the most certified artist in the history of recorded music: 80 gold, 43 platinum, and 19 multiplatinum records. `Lester Bangs` said of the king of Rock and Roll: “Not Sinatra, not [Mick] Jagger, not the Beatles, nobody you can come up with ever elicited such hysteria among so many.” Elvis’ calendar birthday is January 8^th. However, amid a hot and muggy Memphis night, on August 16, 1977, one of the last century’s most influential cultural icons suffered an humiliating death. Struggling everyday with substance abuse and pumped up on more drugs than a Pharmacy, insomnia plagued him. The king picks up a book and tells his girlfriend he was going to the bathroom. Hours later, the girl friend awakes to discover Elvis has not returned to bed. Concerned, she makes her way to the bathroom only to find the king, unconscious on the floor, the book left open. So many have speculated on how this man of great talent and drive could end up this way. But that night, whatever drug invested condition he was in, the king of rock and roll left this earth while reading The Scientific Search for the Face of Jesus. Let’s move from the aroma of death in this Memphis bathroom to another palace of another king, this one in London, England. We are listening to King George VI’s Christmas Eve address to the British Commonwealth. His closing would be etched into the memories of England’s leadership at the close of World War II and the difficult days that lay ahead: “I said to the man at the Gate of the Year, ‘Give me a light that I may walk safely into the unknown.’ He said to me, ‘Go out into the darkness, and put your hand in the hand of God, and it shall be to you better than the light, and safer than the known’.” As he spoke his listeners were unaware that the king was dying of cancer. Although, provoking the nation to a higher calling, they were his own, for his own life, for a place of reference in a place of suffering and uncertainty. The King’s words remind me of Isaiah the prophet’s own words in 50:10: “Who is among you that fears the LORD, that obeys the voice of His servant, that walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God.” Whether it is a real King or a lonely drug saturated soul masquerading as king, the only legitimate hope that makes sense is the hope that comes from God, the hope for life and beyond death. With sting of death staring them in the face, both the King of England and the king of Rock and Roll needed to hear the Apostle Paul’s words: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” The king of pop culture, in his last seconds on earth, was reading about the search for the face of Jesus Christ. A little known fact, but one very insightful to the heart’s longing. With a culture of a thousand distractions for boredom (none of which ultimately work) and seemingly multiple reasons for disbelief, it will be the face of Christ that haunts us of a reality we all need. © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	December 15, 2004 A lost element in our Christmas story: a reality check We underestimate our unbelieving neighbors and friends. We dismiss the possibility that, in their own way, they might actually be seriously seeking answers—ultimate answers about life, faith, and death. Often, it is our particular version of Christianity that is rejected or held in suspicion. Christian sociologist Os Guinness writes that to the believer Christianity “was once life's central mystery, its worship life's most awesome experience, its faith life's broadest canopy of meaning...” But, today, he laments, no matter how passionate or ‘committed’ an individual believer may be, Christianity often amounts to little more than a private preference, a spare‑time hobby. This modern version of Christianity is significant when we consider how non-believers view Christianity. For serious seekers, such spare-time faith is not a solution to their deepest needs. Christianity must be more than a cozy warm blanket, something more ultimate to raise us up above our needs. Amid the glad tidings often associated with the Christmas story is an oft-missed dose of “reality” etched into biblical scene. Along with shouts of exultation from shepherds, homage from wise men, praising God by angels, there is another voice: “a voice heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children…refusing to be consoled, because [her children] were no more” (Matt 2:18). These are strange words coming in the midst of this joyous occasion. Yet, they are a reminder that lament and despair grip the human experience. The first time we meet Rachel is that delightful moment when she thought she would be marrying the love of her life, the OT patriarch Jacob. But the story turns quickly to despair: Her father tricks Jacob into marrying her older sister, Leah, first. Then to make matters worse, Leah has eight sons as Rachel remained childless and we hear her weigh the depths of her barrenness. God eventually takes Rachel’s reproach away by giving her a son, Joseph—Israel’s future deliverer. But, while giving birth to her second son she hears news that Joseph, her first-born, had been murdered. Then we learn that “Rachel began to give birth and had great difficulty” and reflecting on her anguish, she names her new son “trouble” (Benjamin) and dies and is buried by the roadside on the way to Bethlehem. The original Christmas narrative—the one that is inspired and finds a place in Scriptures—forces the reader back to the Rachel story, compelling us to include lament in the Christmas story. Certainly the Gospel writer wants us to know that God has sent his Son to be the deliverer of all mankind. Yet, Rachel and her cry seep into the first Christmas story. We need to know that despite joyous strains elsewhere, some refuse to be comforted except by God’s own intervention. The Gospel story is pictured in Rachel’s cry, that is, of God’s Son ending up on a cross, rejected, and dying the cruelest of deaths. The reality of life, its pain and often unfairness, demand that one must turn to the God of Golgotha, who alone can provide the relief, the comfort that is not simply mere sentimentalism or a “spare-time” religious experience. No other hope other than God’s work in Christ can penetrate our deepest hurts or pierce our loneliest moments, or lift us above our needs. Amid the tinsel and cheerfully wrapped presents, let us remember Christ’s birth wasn’t to increase retail, but to bring good news that would meet the deepest needs of the human experience. Our unbelieving, skeptical friends and neighbors deserve no less. © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	November 28, 2004 Two worlds at a time November 22, 1963, is a date etched into the American psyche. It was on that date that US President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas. It just so happened that two other famous people died that same day within hours of one another: C.S. Lewis, Christian writer and apologist, and as well, Aldous Huxley, novelist and critic of Christianity. In his book Between Heaven and Hell Peter Kreeft presents a fictitious, after‑death conversation between these three men in what Kreeft terms “that other world.” Before Huxley appears, Kreeft has Lewis and Kennedy talking. At one point the conversation turns toward religion. “I did not really have time for religion,” Kennedy confesses to Lewis. “I had to live in one world at a time—one at a time.” Lewis' eyes pan the “room” where the two of them are waiting. “Obviously, Mr. President,” Lewis replies, “it is two worlds at a time.” Therein is the difficulty. The non-Christian, even in the face of constant evidence, continues to deny that we live in two worlds at a time. And, that’s the humor of Kreeft’s “waiting-room” drama, JFK has died and is still alive—in some room, somewhere, with the famed British writer, C.S. Lewis. On the other hand, Christians forget the same lesson: The Christian lives in two worlds at the same time. But our tendency is to live now “according to this world” and let the eternal world wait. Our preference, too, is for one world at a time. Christians are tempted to pattern their lives after the “flesh” because that makes us more comfortable with the one world that we can touch, taste and handle. It is “this world” that gives us outward affirmation for measuring our spirituality and our church ministry, even our self-worth. In the early church-world, there were those who patterned their Christianity after what is contrary to the cross of Christ. As a result, the life of the church and the gospel itself was put at risk. It is instructive, in Philippians 3:18, that Paul warns of “enemies of the cross of Christ” rather than simply “enemies of Christ.” You see, the cross reveals not only our weakness, but also God's method for evaluating everything (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:16‑21; Philippians 2:6‑11). The cross is God's utter contradiction to human wisdom and power. Christians, in this day and age, are uncomfortable with this, and thus, we, too, can become enemies of the cross when our method for evaluating spiritual growth (whether personal growth or church growth) is patterned after the “success and strength” models of our American culture. Those who have “confidence in the flesh” are not patterning their Christian lives, their ministries, their church congregations after the gospel. Our American culture confers award, merit and prestige on those who demonstrate success and strength. But in the end, any spiritual formation that puts “confidence in the flesh” is hazardous, both for the individual and the Church. Our patterns of thought and behavior are to stem, not from our earthly existence, but from our heavenly citizenship. In Paul’s day, those who name Jesus, rather than Caesar, as Lord were in immediate tension with Rome (i.e., the State). Their faith in Christ had put their Roman citizenship in question. But, Paul is telling them their identity must stem not from Rome or from the local culture but from heaven. The Greek word for citizenship is politeuma. Its first meaning is a commonwealth or state. But it can also mean a colony of foreigners who outside their native country, but one that lives according to the laws and principles of, not the country they live in, but of their native home. The Christian should understand that the measure for spirituality and church growth must be according to the principles of their new homeland—heaven (see Philippians 1:26‑3:21). The object of our devotion is not heaven itself, but the Savior who will come from heaven (not Rome!), the Lord Jesus Christ. This Lord is the one who has “everything under his control.” The Christian community might be in tension with its surrounding culture, but the Object of our faith, Jesus Christ the Lord, not the flesh and not the culture, is to be our confidence for all of life. When we use our culture's measurements for success, our sanctification takes on elements destructive to personal spirituality and our Church life. The Christian community must be alert for teachings (whether from Christians or secular society) that affirm our culture's expectations rather than the gospel's. Calvary Church pastor Ed Dobson remarks: I think we are losing the culture war, not in the public arena, but within the Church. Until we renew what it means to be a Christian in the Church, we won't have credibility to speak to the world (my emphasis). Certainly our message needs to be relevant to the times. But we do not necessarily achieve relevancy by imitating our culture. As someone once remarked, the Church must raise itself above the fate of a dying culture if it is not to share that fate. © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Adapted from my book, Destroying Our Private Cities, a lay-commentary on Paul’s Letter to the Philippians. For more information on the Book and a free-downloadable chapter, click here. Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	September 19, 2004 The middling of the Christian faith Ever wonder where the “middle class” came from? Some of us middling people are subject to a cultural and historical identity crisis. To date, there hasn’t been a solid definition offered. But, we are sure an important group—politicians vie for our attention and vote, marketers are dependent on targeting us for their products. One would think we are a very powerful group. Problem is, it is not because we possess power that politicians and advertisers compete for our attention. No, it is our insatiable desire to feel we need something new, bigger, better—this works for politicians who promise us something better and for advertisers who promise us something new and improved. It is the middle class habits, culturally, socially, and economically that make us middling people so important to politicians and advertisers. These cultural habits are a problem, however, for the Christian middle class community, for we share these habits as well. As a consequence, there is a cost for the middling of the Christian faith. full essay>> Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	September 13, 2004 Many bright thinkers, but no revival I do have three new Rough Cuts in draft form, and one other Habits essay as well. I don’t know how some of my fellow Christian bloggers and websites writers have the energy and time to write and post on a regular basis. I have two more books in idea form with various levels of notes and research done. I have a notebook, a journal I carry with me, with plenty of ideas and notes and thoughts, but very little time for crafting them into legibility (is this even a word?). I spend time browsing around the Christian website world, and I often wonder why am I even attempting this…it costs me money I don’t have and time I could be giving away in other forms to other things and people. One thing I have noticed—we have lots of information, us Christians do, literally at our figure-tips and with the click of a mouse. I must be fool-hearty to think I can bring another weighty, worthwhile voice to this already large array of Christian “postings.” I am most bothered by one thing, however, that keeps me going: With all this knowledge, insightfulness, and creative presentations by a wide range of Christians bloggers and website writers, why isn’t their revival? As Leonard Ravenhill once wrote, why does revival tarry? I met the man once. While at college in the 80's, I was gathered with him and a few other students to pray right before he spoke at one of our student deeper-life meetings. I still can’t believe he asked me to pray! In his book, Why Revival Tarries?, Ravenhill perhaps answers my question: Today God is bypassing men -- not because they are too ignorant, but because they are too self-sufficient. Brethren, our abilities are our handicaps, and our talents our stumbling blocks! And, let's face it, we don't like being bypassed! Ravenhill also writes: Ah! brother preachers, we love the old saints, missionaries, martyrs, reformers: our Luthers, Bunyans, Wesleys, Asburys, etc. We will write their biographies, reverence their memories, frame their epitaphs, and build their monuments. We will do anything except imitate them . We cherish the last drop of their blood, but watch carefully the first drop of our own! And to add more to our injury, a Neil Postman quote also seems to be another way of answering my question: But one worries, nonetheless, that a generation of young people may become entangled in an academic fashion that will increase their difficulties in solving real problems -- indeed, in facing them. I am reading through the history books of Israel, the Samuels and Kings. One thing I notice, even when the writer tells us that a king is good and follows Lord and is pleasing like king David, there are some words that seem always to follow: ...the people were still sacrificing on the high places. Personally, I haven’t figured out the answer to why revival tarries, but I am reminded here of how much of what we are doing is, just that, our doing. With all the light we shed on our culture, we continue to bow before it. We like our cultural high places, too. Perhaps, this is one reason why God’s chosen design to advance his gospel is wrapped up in little (and I do mean little) bodies of believers in every community in big and small places. But we’ve even turned them into high places where we are more like our culture and less counter-cultural, and more reliant on our modern technology and business-sense than the Spirit of the Lord. © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table
	August 22, 2004 Only qualified for worship I am always bothered by comments that diminish corporate worship, and especially comments that make the local church seem like a business or some entity trading commodities. My goodness, everything about the church militates against it being a business. Now granted a group of business-like people can change a church into a business, but it then ceases to be God’s body, the church. On this subject, I was impressed by some turn of phrases by David McCarthy, author of a new book called The Good Life: Genuine Christianity for the Middle Class. “The center point of our relationship with God is corporate worship.” No other event describes best the true, biblical picture of both the church's nature and its mission. McCarthy continues: The church is the body of Christ. Go to a church as it prays and look around. You will see it, the subversive friendship of God’s hospitality. You will see Pharisees congratulating themselves for their own righteousness. You will see tax collectors and those who cheat on their income taxes. You will see sinners. You will see many saints, but you will see adulterers, thieves, liars, petty embezzlers, and colossal hypocrites. You will see elderly folks and kids who misbehave. You will see the kind of people whom God has befriended. This is no photo-op with the president. It is not lunch with the CEO. The church is not the kind of gathering that bodes well for running an efficient corporation or effective government. It is not the kind of gathering that many think is most valuable for church growth or for proper political or social mission of the church in the world. However, it is precisely the kind of gathering that represents God’s people. As McCarthy concludes, “What are these people qualified to do except worship?” Exactly! They can gather, confess their sins, ask God’s mercy and be changed by God’s friendship. They can hear the word of the Bible and God’s story told. They can share the gift of God’s presence. They can break bread and drink from the cup of the crucifixion. They can be bound to each other… The church ain’t no business. But it is God’s way in this world. The corporate gathering of God’s people, Sunday after Sunday, expressed in local congregations all around the globe, from the sun’s rising in the east to its setting in the west—this is God’s sign, his miniature, his diorama of his world-wide mission and plan of grace. © Chip M. Anderson Words’nTone Send to a friend, click here Put your comment On the Table Comment On the Table (1)
	July 1, 2004 The causes of poverty, my kids, and killing the ogre I am amazed at the capacity of my kids to grasp the importance of things. When we watch TV, the news, or even a movie together, I like asking them questions. After a scene, or news item, or some choice words from the actors, I will often ask my kids: “What just happened?” Or, “What is significant about that?” I ask some question that taxes their observation and critical thinking skills. And, more often than not, they have good answers, and even sometimes “out think” me, catching something I missed! I am on the United Way of Norwalk & Wilton Board of Directors. Last week, we held our annual meeting. This particular United Way is undergoing a shift in its approach to serving the surrounding community. The Chief Executive Officer had a story to remind us of this new direction. It is called The Ogre Story. The story had an impact at the annual meeting, but it was later, at home, when I read the story to my kids that moved me. The three youngest were sitting on the couch, all ready for school. I turned off the morning cartoons and asked them to listed to the story and tell me what is the point. Here’s what I read to them: A villager is walking by the river early one morning. The villager looks out into the water and sees a baby floating down the river. Horrified, the villager races into the water, grabs the baby, and brings the baby to shore. The baby is fine. Relieved, the villager looks back into the water and sees another baby floating down the water. The villager again dives into the water and rescues this baby as well. Once more, the villager looks into the water . . . and sees dozens of babies floating down the river. The villager calls out an alarm, and the entire village comes running to the river to rescue as many babies as they can before the water carries them away. This is a village that is mobilized. Every villager is at the river, trying to save the babies from the water. This is a village that is improving lives. Many of the babies are being saved. But the babies keep on coming . . . because no one is going upstream to put a stop to the ogre that is throwing the babies into the water in the first place. I asked, “Ok, what’s the point?” Robert, eight, said, “You have to go up stream and stop the ogre.” Amanda, who is eleven and more accustomed to Daddy’s little games, replied, “If you don't solve the problem you will continue to have to save babies, or whatever the problem does.” I was impressed. Not only were they willing to sit and listen, they got it. Our United Way's new approach is attractive to me: looking for the Ogres, that is, the causes of our community’s social issues and problems. If we don’t, as our United Way CEO said, “Otherwise, we will be pulling babies out of the water forever.” Yes, pulling babies out of the water—that is addressing the results of the causes—is still a good thing. But, in order to make “lasting changes,” substantial changes in our community, we must identify the causes and spend our energy is changing them. This is also what attracts me to Community Action. As many of you know, I am the Director of Planning for a mid-sized Community Action Agency in Southwestern Connecticut. Some of my more conservative friends are suspect, not so much of me, but of the social service world. Of course, there are wasteful spending and dead end programs, but like any business, there is always need for such things to be corrected and changed. Nonetheless, in the big picture, Community Action is a good investment. Like The Ogre Story, Community Action’s thirty-five plus years of existence and purpose is validated by its mission: to alleviate the causes of poverty in distressed communities with special emphasis on community and economic development activities. Indeed, this is a good investment, namely supporting an endeavor that seeks to alleviate the causes of poverty—stopping the Ogre. I am reminded of a question asked by one of the national leaders of Community Action: “Does God care about community action?” This question pointed me back to my relationship with God, His Church, and His Gospel. Of course I believe that God cares about the goals and mission of community action, for they are, indeed, redemptive and biblical--even if the philosophy and activities are produced by the state. I am moved to wonder why the church—even the conservative Evangelical wing of the church—isn’t characterized and known by its own community action? In light of God’s redemption and the cross of Christ, we of all people should understand the need to get at the causes poverty. The martyred leader of the Nicaraguan church, Bishop Oscar Romero, once observed: "When I feed the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor are poor, they call me a communist." Perhaps this is why we would rather “save babies” than deal with the causes, the ogres. As someone has asked, “What would Jesus do to help the homeless and the hungry?" I would add: and not only just through you personally and through the direct assistance of your church, but what is the church—your church—actively doing to try to alleviate the causes of poverty? William Sloane Coffin, who served for eighteen years as Chaplain of Yale University, pointed out that "A person's mortal character, sterling though it may be, is insufficient to serve the cause of justice, which is to challenge the status quo, to try to make what's legal more moral, and to take personal or concerted action against evil, whether in personal or systemic form." In other words the "'theological individualism” (read our propensity for privatized faith) that under girds much of the conservative Christian community is unbiblical, namely that "public good doesn't automatically follow from private virtue." It seems Christian love or charity is somewhat comfortable with “saving babies.” But as a Christian community we should be harnessing our capacity (our earthly talents and resources) and our “riches in heavenly places” to eliminate the causes of poverty, to discover the Ogres in our communities and stop them. This would force our churches to think past themselves, their buildings and budgets, the numbers and comfort. This would make churches redemptive communities, displays of God’s purpose in Christ. My kids get it. I am hoping our churches will, too.

February 26, 2006

Many bright thinkers, but no revival