Kyle Strobel

Debating Driscoll - Some Thoughts

Kyle Strobel — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 08:47:10 -0800

You don’t have to be interested in thinking about or debating Mark Driscoll to find yourself pulled into the wave of his most recent debacle. I am not interested in talking about the situation itself, or even about Driscoll himself, but I want to make some notes about how people react to him. I find it interesting that, for the most part, both sides that debate Driscoll basically say the same thing. The issues debated are not typically over justifying his actions, most people I see interacting with him, on both sides, agree that he “goes too far,” and “lacks wisdom in what he say.” The difference, I propose, has to do with how we understand what a pastor is.

There is a growing belief in the evangelical church that “good” preaching covers a multitude of sins. This is simple another way of saying that the ends justify the means. The question we need to ask, I think, is whether or not it is fitting for a pastor to lack humilty, lack wisdom, and clearly project so many of his own psychological issues onto God’s work. Again, it seems to me that both sides agree to these things, and both think they are at least regretable. The main difference, as far as I can tell, has to do with how we view those things in light of Driscoll’s position as a pastor. One side, the pro-Driscoll side, claims that everything else he does out-weighs these particular sins, or else they invoke something like: “Boys will be boys.” The other side, believes that Scripture is clear about what a pastor is like, and because he breaks these Scriptural mandates so freely, frequently, and publically, that he should undergo, minimally, church discipline.

At the heart of the issue is spiritual formation, and whether pastors are called to humility, grace, and a higher level of scrutiny, or if these things are more like desires that will never actually be fulfilled.

What are your thoughts?

Our God is a Consuming Fire: Why I tend to Forget this

Kyle Strobel — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 09:10:16 -0800

I’ve been reading and meditating on the Pentateuch (first 5 books of the Bible) and I just read the passage in Exodus where God descends upon the mountain in fire, thunder, and lightening. Interestingly, the focus of this section is on fearing the Lord but not being afraid of the Lord. It is coming close, but not too close. As I was meditating upon this reality, I came to the conclusion that my upbringing has created too great a flipancy in my relationship with God. In other words, I never really had the sense of God as a consuming fire, even as that imagery was sometimes used to talk about my purification.

Let me take a stab at why this was. I think a lot of evangelicals are functionally Marcionites. Marcion was a second century heretic, who accepted Jesus but reject the God of the Old Testament. In doing so, he rejected the Old Testament itself. While evangelicals have never done this explicitly, I think we tend to do it implicitly. We read the Old Testament for prophecy about Jesus, for historical information about Israel, and for the Psalms and Proverbs, but generally, we do not believe it speaks meaningfully into our lives today (I always laugh when I hear pastors, who almost never preach from the Old Testament, suddenly act like Old Testament scholars when they preach about money – tithing specifically!).

Rather than rejecting the Old Testament, we tend to bracket it to obscurity. Instead of grasping Christ as the key that unveils these Scriptures, we relegate them to merely affirming everything we already believe about Christ. It is interesting, that when the New Testament does affirm that God is a consuming fire, it is no less concerned with our reverence, but states, “Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire” (Heb. 12:28-29).

Importantly, this same author states,

“Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

We are called to draw near, but that nearness doesn’t somehow undermine the reverence and “fear of God” we must maintain in his presence. What are your thoughts? Did you have a similar experience growing up? Has your God lost his “consuming” nature?

Rethinking Education for Pastors: Why I am Underwhelmed

Kyle Strobel — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 08:31:42 -0800

To start this post, let me begin with several qualifications: First, I think that theological education has some serious meditation to do concerning its task. Second, I think the overall model / approach upon which we’ve built is flawed. Third, I am excited about virtually anything that seeks to think creatively about this. In comes Mike Breen. Mike Breen, who I know little about but have heard good things, posted this back in November. It is a wholesale engagement with the kinds of worries I have. In light of that, let me again state some qualifications: First, I know nothing about this other than this post. Second, if I saw this right when I graduated seminary I probably would have called him up and said, “Sign me up and tell me what to do.” Third, I have some doubts about some of the statistics in the video, but for the purpose of this discussion lets assume they are true.

Now, qualifications aside, I was left frustrated by this post. But why? Why would I be frustrated by someone who is, for all practical purposes, hitting all of my sweet-spots? I actually found myself asking this exact question at times. Let me try and point to some issues I think are inherent to this project (keeping in mind how limited my knowledge of it is).

First, it is built on over-simplification. The “Christendom” versus “post-Christendom” divide is helpful for sermons but not for academic discourse. Things are just not so simple. Furthermore, keeping in mind my ignorance of their overall plan, this seems steeped in the present evangelical culture. In other words, based on how evangelicals are intuitively thinking about things, their overall approach makes perfect sense. That worries me. This feels no different than the megachurch mentality they oppose. In light of that claim, note the inherent pragmatism to the message. We have statistics, we have an action plan, and we can use Jesus as the model. But is this right? It strikes me that it is not. Again, over-simplification seems to govern the day (maybe this was just for the sake of the video?) Also, in light of their allergy to the megachurches and the “business” model (again, no complaints here), it seems to me that they have not dug deep enough to the pragmatist idolatry that fueled the errors they worry about. In other words, they could be trying to build on the same broken foundation (even as they claim they are doing the opposite in their video).

Following the present culture, it strikes me that we have another case of Jesus vs. Paul (and by Paul I mean the rest of the NT). As a side note, if you haven’t noticed this phenomena, watch for it. It is pervasive. I think it gained popularity through the emergent church conversation, particularly the more radical ends, but it is a view that is becoming “normal.” Notice how quickly we can just say: “Well Jesus did it this way, therefore this must be a model.” There is a pragmatism and a lack of a robust biblical vision (or so it strikes me).

Second, I was struck by the odd feeling that I would have loved this earlier in my life, but now I am left with much hesitancy. Why? First, I think that my earlier point about pragmatism is again wielding its head. The seminary grads I talk to almost all want pragmatic ways to fix things. I tend to hand them Eugene Peterson. In other words, starting from what seminary grads want doesn’t necessarily lead us anywhere. I am again struck by how similar this seems to be to the megachurch movement these guys reject. I grew up at Willow Creek, and it feels the same to me. We start with statistics, move to what makes intuive sense, and then build a common-sensical model based on New Testament narratives. Is this just the same old evangelical game? The fact that high-up on the list of “to-dos” to get this thing going was developing a savvy video strikes me that the answer would be: “Yes.”

Third, I was struck by how much I disliked the terms “character” and “compentence.” Both strike me as inherently secular. As an advocate of the spiritual formation conversation, I quiver when I see terms like this. Maybe there is much more depth to them than strike me at first glance? I don’t know. To me, this again feels American (or Western would probably be more adequate). It thinks of education in terms of trade schools. Furthermore, there was a tinge of that classic evangelical inclination that there was the Acts 2 church that lasted for a generation and then everything has gone 100% wrong ever since. Therefore, what we need to do is to just recover that church. I don’t know if that is there (it is certainly ubiquitous in the evangelicalism I grew up in), but if nothing else, some form of that inclination is still floating around. There just doesn’t seem to be a lot of theological depth in a discussion of theological education.

Fourth, other than reference to the importance of the mission of God (whose importance is not questioned here), there really isn’t any focus on how thinking Christianly is at the heart of our participation in the mission of God. 1 Corinthians would be helpful here. Again, with the last point, it seems like the mission of God was picked up at random with no other theological structures in place. And maybe it is here that my real frustration lies. Rather than theology I find common-sensicalism.

Fifth, is the problem the model of education, or is the problem our ideal of education? Both, no doubt, have their problems, but which is more central? I would point to the total lack of theological education over the last generation, where theology itself was seen as an end rather than an aid to meeting Christ in the scriptures (see Stephen Holmes’ post for some excellent thoughts on this). Rather than a wholesale rejection of the model, why don’t we start asking new questions about how that model can be more faithful to the call of the church? While I used to be on their side of things, wanting to rethink everything from the ground up, it is my new inclination that a more fruitful endeavor would be to rework the model from within it. This is not just a pragmatic claim, but I have a lot in mind when I suggest this. Maybe we can discuss this. I should say that I was in an innovative seminary program designed with many of the same worries as Breen’s, and it did deal with (in my mind) many of their worries (not to diminish other major issues such as the financial, etc.).

Last, the post and video point to two distinct issues that they believe are interrelated: the church and the seminary. I wonder if we would explore the relationship between these in more detail if that would help. For instance, I know few churches who really take a role in future pastor’s and missionary’s development (spiritual, financial, etc.). I wonder if the seminary is often required to hold a load a bit too large? Anyone who has taught an introductory class at a seminary can recognize how low biblical and theological knowledge truly is, as well as an understanding of the Christian life. It is no surprise that three years later they don’t feel equipped for ministry.

In the end, I like the questions, I like the desire, but I am left with much more hesitancy than excitement. It has too much of the feel of the evangelicalism that continues to say: “I know, we should just start from scratch;” and “Finally, I have come around to fix everything.” What are your thoughts? Am I being too harsh? Am I totally off about what they are doing? What do you think?

The Wound of Loneliness

Kyle Strobel — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 08:26:02 -0700

I’ve been reading some Jean Vanier lately for some work I am doing on theology and disability, and I’ve come across what appears to be an idea central to his thought – that at our core, as fallen humans, is a wound of loneliness. Most of what we do is develop strategies to protect this wound, and most of our relational decisions stem from how we respond to others in the midst of our woundedness. The disabled, for Vanier, are special because they tap into our wound in a way others do not. The disabled, and I’m thinking mostly mentally disabled here, do not pick up on the kinds of strategies we usually employ in conversations, nor are they impressed with the kind of things that impress the world. Instead, they want someone to be with them, to love them, and not leave them. The disabled only want what we do, and yet they refuse to settled for what we do (i.e. shallow conversations, approval, etc.).

I have heard people speak about this in a lot of different ways, but I like his description of the wound of loneliness and how certain people tap into that wound. Our calling, then, as Christians, is to be a people who are taken through that wound of loneliness to find Jesus, who, through his own wounds, has set us free. This freedom is not merely freedom from sin, but freedom from sins effects – freedom from creating selves to navigate the world without being hurt. Vanier offers us another way, a way of being with others in love where we walk through our brokenness to truly live. Doing so, he warns, will make you unable to function in “normal” society. May it be so.

Any thoughts? Do you like this language?

Being a Christian Writer

Kyle Strobel — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 16:44:06 -0700

There are a couple of things very close to my heart that I never seem to blog about. I'm not sure why that is. So here, I want to address one of them - writing. I come from a family of Christian writers. My dad, Lee Strobel, is well known in this area, but my sister is a Christian novelist and my brother-in-law writes children's books. It is just what we do. I have a deep love of writing, it feels like it is engrained in my DNA, but out of all of us, I am the least of a "writer." Let me explain.

Some people write because of the love of writing itself. I am not like that. I do love writing, but I can't just write anything. My writing is attached to my calling as a theologian. I write because I want to proclaim who God is. In this day and age, that can be difficult. I write in two realms, the academic and the popular. The academic world is easy. The audience does not drive the publishing nearly as much as in the popular realm. When the audience drives what is being published, it is often hard to speak deeply about something without being practical - when "practical" is taken to be "addressing the felt needs of your audience." The Bible is not practical in this sense. Our felt needs are the problem, so addressing those is a sure-fire way to make your work sub-Christian. I think audiences intuitively know this. Notice how well the Shack did. It was not practical in any specific sense, but its message that you have to walk through your pain to get beyond it is immensely helpful in the day to day reality in which we live.

I hope to write more about my writing in the future. I do have a ton of writing projects going right now, some are just chapters, others are books, and I'm even working on editing some books right now. What I would like to know from you though, is what makes you buy a book? What is the main driving influence behind a book purchase? Is it the topic? The author? The cover? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Metamorpha Retreat: Endurance

Kyle Strobel — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 13:40:43 -0700

The ministry I co-founded, Metamorpha, is continuing to offer spiritual retreats based on the concept of virtue. The next retreat is on endurance. If you are in the Southern California area, this retreat will be on November 19-20. For more information and to sign up, follow this link.

Visual Bible: Judas' Kiss

Kyle Strobel — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 09:36:54 -0700

The painting we are looking at this week is by Giotto di Bondone (1266-1337). I was mesmerized by this painting. It is chaotic. It is intense. It is probably a lot like the real event portrayed in the Gospels (see Matthew 26:47-56). When I think of the event, on the other hand, it is often much more calm than this. If you read Matthew's description particularly, there is a sense where there is an initial scene that Jesus dispels rather quickly. In my mind, the action stops when Jesus starts speaking, and the mob just stands there dumbly as he teaches his disciples. But that probably wasn't how it happened. Peter cut off someone's ear for goodness sake.

Bondone's painting reveals the tension I feel in my own reading well. There is something of a painting within a painting here. Immediately, upon looking at it, your eyes are drawn to Jesus and Judas. Their embrace is not one of enemies, but almost of lovers. As their eyes are locked into each others', so are the eyes of the mob locked in on their embrace. The other painting is the larger chaotic struggle, as Peter cuts off someone's ear, and the dark figure on the bottom left grabs John's cloak as he runs away. But your eyes, as much as they try, cannot stop pondering the Jesus/Judas embrace. Is Judas' expression a realization of what he has done? Is Jesus' expression and peace an act of grace or condemnation?

In the painting and the story itself, we are confronted with several dichotomies. You have the kiss from Judas and the calmness of Jesus and the backdrop to this is the chaos surrounding them. You have Jesus' teaching about peace and not using the sword, and you have a mob and Jesus' own disciples walking in the way of the sword. At the center you have deception and treachery, and on the horizon you have the disciple's own rejection of Jesus. Jesus is at the center of that tension, teaching about a kingdom and a way that stands in contrast to the realities of this world.

What do you see?

Visual Bible: Christ on the Cross

Kyle Strobel — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 14:18:24 -0700

Salvador Dali, a surrealist painter from the 20th century, gives us a gripping image of Christ that has at least two different perspectives. Christ is on the cross, kind of, but there are no nails to hold him there. This, of course, begs the question, what does hold Christ to the cross anyway? Love. Furthermore, there is no nail marks either. In fact, Christ looks pretty good. We do not find the crucified Christ, we see the resurrected Christ, gazing down upon the normal and mundane activities of life. Christ has not been raised beyond the cross, but Christ is still the cruciform One who now reigns in power. But this power does not undo the reality of the cross, but it substantializes it in his reign as prophet, priest, and king.

Dali noted that when he painted "his Christ," the painting called the Christ of Saint John of the Cross, that he painted Christ in a triangle, and that this represented, in some way, that Christ was the nucleus that upheld the universe. You can see how the cross makes a triangle shape, with Christ's head in the dead-center of the triangle. This gives the cross an "arrow-like" quality, as if the cross is the needle on a compass pointing due North. If we follow the arrow down it looks like the bottom of the cross is creating an eclipse. There is something there, behind it. If we look closely, as someone encouraged me to do, we can see another shore hidden in the clouds, a shore of a different realm than the day to day reality that our eyes are initially drawn to. It is as if the cross points to a different dimension, a dimension that is further highlighted by the cross' tilting backwards.

Unlike the cross, Jesus doesn't dwell on that other realm, but stares down at the day to day realities of life. Christ hovers above the mundane bearing the reality of the cross that points to a different world and a different order. Christ, it was pointed out to me, is actually shaped like a uterus, depicting the new life that is achieved on the cross - a life that must be born in Christ to trully be reborn and eventually know life in the new world.

What do you see?

Visual Bible: Caravaggio and Thomas and the Risen Christ

Kyle Strobel — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 09:14:59 -0700

We see in John 20:19-29 the reason why many people still know the disciple named Thomas as "Doubting Thomas." Thomas refuses to believe until he sees Jesus with his own eyes and touches his nail and spear wounds. There is much more to say about this passage, but lets turn to Caravaggio's take. Caravaggio's style forces you into the midst of the painting - many times in a way you don't want. Assuming that Thomas took Jesus up on his offer to touch his side and his nail wounds, Caravaggio paints Thomas about an inch deep into Jesus' spear wound. Importantly though, notice that the only movement in the painting is by Jesus. Thomas seems worried, shocked, and a bit overwhelmed (notice his forehead), as are the other disciples. Jesus on the other hand is calm, collected, and is grasping Thomas' hand to guide it into the wound and using his other hand to pull his garment out of the way.

In our discussion, there were a couple of thoughts that came up that I want to highlight here. First, notice the mirroring Caravaggio does with Thomas and Jesus. Thomas grasps his side at the same point as Jesus' wound, and Thomas' tear in his garment is the same size and at the same height as Jesus's wound. Thomas though, like the other two disciples, are worn out, shocked, and incredibly interested in what it taking place (even though he hesitates to want his finger inside of Jesus' wound). There is a parallelism here but also a sharp contrast. Jesus looks young, the disciples look old. Jesus looks fantastic and healthy (despite the wounds) while the disciples look worse for the wear. This is particularly notable in light of the fact that Jesus recently died!

Second, note the balance of the painting. Whenever I think about this wonderful work and recall it in my mind I change it. I always move the other two disciples to the left, creating a bit more of a huddle feel. But that isn't what Caravaggio did. Rather, the other two disciples almost grow out of Thomas. Notice the spacing between Jesus as the disciples at the bottom of the painting. Jesus is on one side and the disciples are on another. This leads me to my thoughts about how we should read this.

My thought is that Caravaggio allowed the broader narrative of John 20 to guide his painting - which would make the other disciples Peter and John. This goes against popular tradition that the disciples are Matthew and John, because those are the two gospel witnesses for this event and because he used the same model for Matthew in a different painting. Possibly. But I think what Caravaggio is trying to do here is to show that Thomas is not distinctively a doubting person in the story, but is one with the rest of the disciples who needed to see to believe. John 20 shows this, and Thomas, in the end, becomes something of a hero figure for his bold proclamation of Jesus' identity. By making the two disciples grow out of Thomas, assuming that they are Peter and John, Caravaggio highlights that the disciples stood together in their doubt. Even having the disciples in the picture at all shows that they need this sign as much as Thomas, and in the narrative itself we see that both Peter and John needed seeing to believe just as much as Thomas did.

Going back to our first point, because he paints the picture in such as way as to invite us in, having Jesus and Thomas opening up to us, we are drawn to Jesus in the midst of our doubt as well. Caravaggio call us in to see, even as in John 20 we are part of the blessed who do not see and yet still believe.

Spiritual Direction: Why Bother?

Kyle Strobel — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 16:50:56 -0700

You might not have noticed, but there is a lot going on right now in the world of spiritual direction. Spiritual direction is an ancient practice, often called by other names, and it is growing in popularity among evangelicals. I have started following a 3 part series on spiritual direction in the church by my close friend Jamin Goggin, Pastor of the 501 ministry at Saddleback Church. Check out his first post on Pastors.com about spiritual direction in the church and let me know what you think.