Saturday, March 28, 2009

pockets of sadness.

Listening to Q yesterday, one of the guests said something quite profound, though I'm not sure he realized it. He was referencing an interview earlier in the week with Charles Montgomery who suggested that Vancouver ranked low on the "happiness" meter. So a few days later, this guest, in the midst of a rant on how great a city Vancouver is, despite the statistics, mentioned that within Vancouver there are "pockets of great sadness." Those words immediately resonated in my mind. Pockets of sadness. He, of course, was referring to the Downtown East Side.

But in his study, Montgomery wasn't talking about the amount of happiness on the East Side, where one might expect there to be a deep level of disatisfaction in the poverty-stricken neighbourhood. He was talking about the upper-class West side of Vancouver. His study ultimately reveals that "the richer the city you live in Canada, the less likely you are to be happy." We've all heard these studies before, and we've all heard the cliché: money doesn't buy you happiness. And as much as we know it's true, we all have this built-in, media-driven tendency to buy the next best thing that will truly make us happy, don't we?

But are the pockets of sadness really in the areas where we find the greatest amount of need? Or are they in the areas where we find the least amount of want?

The Beatitudes

"God blesses those who realize their need for him,
for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them.
God blesses those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
God blesses those who are gentle an lowly,
for the whole earth will belong to them.
God blesses those who are hungry and thirsty for justice,
for they will receive it in full.
God blesses those who are merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
God blesses those whose hearts are pure,
for they will see God.
God blesses those who work for peace,
for they will be called the children of God.
God blesses those who are persecuted because they live for God,
for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs."

Saturday, March 14, 2009

non-emergent

The one hour time difference has brought some minor changes to my morning commute. Six o'clock is once again shrouded in darkness, though by the time I leave for the bus at seven, a bit of light begins to filter through the black. And on the kind of mornings we've had over the past week (bitterly cold and brilliantly clear), the sunrise is in its full glory by the time I start heading Northeast on the skytrain--the perfect vantage point from which to view the silhouetted frames of Mt. Baker and his mountainous friends in the far East. I've taken to simply enjoying the morning nature show from the skytrain until we start heading West and the sunrise continues out of sight--at which point, I pick up whatever free newspaper I'm handed on my way into the 22nd Street station. Or I continue reading my book of choice for the daily commute.

I just finished the book, Why We're Not Emergent (by two guys who should be) by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck. It was lent to me by a friend in perfect condition though now, with a bit of travel under it's belt, I've managed to dog-ear the corners. We had gotten to talking about the Emerging Church Movement and, after explaining a bit of my experiences and questionings in the past, I soon had this book in my hands. Limitied to one hour a day on the bus and skytrain, it took a while to get through the book, but on finishing it I thought I'd offer my unprofessional critique. I often read books uncritically and never actually process what I'm reading, but I want to change that. I'll start with this book.

Within the first chapter I realized that I may relate more to this book than I anticipated. DeYoung is a Reformed pastor in Michigan--the mecca state of the Christian Reformed Church--so he immediately gained my attention. Kluck, a sportswriter, attends the same church as far as I could tell in their writing, so it is obvious that the criticisms in this book towards the emerging movement would be Reformed in nature. DeYoung does an excellent job of thinking critically through the printed words (ie. books, blogs) of some of the major emergent leaders: Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, Leonard Sweet, Erwin McManus. Though (unfortunately) neither author ever had a conversation with any one of these guys, DeYoung is able to pick apart what he believes to be theological unsound statements and beliefs held by the emerging movement. And he does this well, challenging the movement to stop asking questions in some key issues of Christianity [around the foundational aspect of Scripture (The Bible tells us what is true. Our thinking about God, ourselves, and the Word should start with the Bible and never contradict the Bible. In that sense, what's so wrong with calling the Bible our foundation?), the desire for Christ over doctrine (Once we say something about why Jesus is glorious and what His life was like and what it accomplished, aren't we settling back into dogma and religion again? The Jesus-versus-theology mantra is centuries old, and it makes no more sense and no more converts today than a hundred years ago.), propositions, hell, salvation, and others] and to start providing answers. There is too much confusion in all this questioning, and there are some absolute truths that we must hold on to, he might say.

I had a tough time getting through Kluck's writing. While DeYoung wrote from a more theologically sound view (the advantage of being a Reformed pastor, I'm sure), Kluck attempted to draw his reader into various anti-emergent conversations he's had with others along the way. It was distracting and lacked what one might call a Point. And maybe that was his point--to show that non-emergent folk can have intelligent conversations and learn from them, too, just like their emergent counterparts. From the start though, I was distracted by his writing, I wasn't looking for the [churches] with the biggest projection screens, the coolest "gathering place," or the best film discussions, and then proceeding in the same chapter and the next to explain how movies such as Rebel without a Cause, Jerry Maguire and Thank You for Smoking are relevant to his discussion on being non-emergent. That and his use of Wikipedia as a source for his understanding of what "futurist" means. All that to say, if you want to learn from this book and gain some valuable, theologically sound insight into some concerns about the emergent movement, read the chapters written by DeYoung, who finishes the book (and this short book review post) well:

In the end, it all comes back to God. We become what we worship. If God is relational, inviting, and mysterious overwhelmingly more than He is omnipotent, just , and knowable, then the gospel becomes a message overwhelmingly about community, inclusion, and journey. But if God is overwhelmingly holy, righteous, and graciously sovereign, then the gospel becomes a message about sin, justification, and undeserved mercy. To borrow from Jonathan Edwards, what we need to recover is a vision of God in all His "diverse excellencies."

Friday, March 06, 2009

Brandon.

we watched a documentary last night on the fifth estate. when the story of Brandon Crisp came out late last year, i remember feeling a sense of disbelief that a 15 year old boy would run away from home over having his video game taken away. disbelief and sadness, actually. at the time there was speculation about foul play, but when the story wrapped up in the news three weeks later, Brandon's body had been found at the bottom of the tree he fell from. this story breaks my heart.

perhaps a natural reaction to a story like this one is: who's to blame? the parents? call of duty 4? the video game industry? Brandon? to be honest, i'm not sure anyone is to blame. this story is the tragic result of a perfect storm combining all these fronts. that said, however, i am a little disappointed with the entertainment software association (esa) and major league gaming (mlg). while the documentary intentionally left the viewer with a sense that both organizations are solely to blame, it at least opened my eyes to what goes on behind the scenes in the video game industry--and perhaps some things that need to change.

regardless of how a mature-rated game ended up in the hands of a 15 year old, it is obvious that the rating system does not work and is not at all taken seriously. and i don't think it ever will--it's too late for that. but while the esa and mlg portray their organizations as the providers of entertainment, it is clear that they really don't care and are content with the lack of ratings accountability. and it's not because they just really love providing entertainment for a generation of teens and young adults. it's because that generation are easy targets for marketers which, in turn, makes them a huge profit. why try to fix something that's broken in your favour?

finally, let me say this: i love video games. when my brothers and i were growing up, we would go out and rent the latest console (back in the days when the n64 was the coolest) and spend the entire night playing the latest video games. just a few weeks ago we did the same. i know how addicting video games can be. and i know that if we had an xbox 360 , xbox live and call of duty 4 at home, i would have no reason to leave the house. it is that addicting for me. in that sense, i understand Brandon's obsession with the game. but matthew bromberg (mlg) is right: ultimate responsibility should lie in the hands of parents who should have the most say in how their child spends their time--an increasingly difficult task in a world where teens can find their sense of belonging as much on a soccer field as in an online community.

there are no simple solutions to make sense of Brandon's death.

to view the full robbie cooper video, 'immersion', click here. To hear an interview with him on Q, click here.