Cars 2 is a decent film. It was a good sequel in that it doesn’t merely repeat the same basic story,  and in fact this film highlights Mater over Lightning McQueen. It adds new characters, takes on interesting developments, and plays well on the myriads of jokes throughout the film. It reflects many of the good qualities we’ve come to expect from Pixar: good story, good character development, and fantastic animation. But from a more critical perspective there is a theme in the film that simply rubs me the wrong way: Mater’s cultural ignorance isn’t merely laughed at, but it is applauded.

The story begins with Lightning McQueen’s participation in the World Grand Prix. He, Mater and the whole Radiator Springs crew make their way across the globe. Increasingly what we see, however, is that Mater (as the resident hillbilly of the gang) is completely culturally ignorant. He congratulates a car working in a Chinese rock garden for getting all the leaves up. He downs a whole bowl of Wasabi because he thinks it is pistachio ice cream. He accuses the British for being terrible drivers because they drive on the wrong side of the road. Routinely, throughout the movie, he makes statements and creates incidents that embarrass and humiliate his friends. Mater is a stereotypical hillbilly out of his element.

Eventually this frustrates McQueen who kicks him off the team, but by the end of the movie we find Lightning rethinking his decision. He concludes that Mater is who he is and shouldn’t be required to change simply because he comes from a different cultural context. If people don’t like the way Mater does things then they need to change, McQueen asserts.

At one level this is simply the same endearing, if cliche, moral lesson: be yourself. But at another level it actually approves cultural ignorance. It applauds being a fool, offending host nations, and generally demonstrating a lack of concern for the way things are done in other parts of the world. This should not be our practice. The apostle Paul stated that the became all things to all people. Even though Paul is thinking about his evangelical mission we can apply the same principle to respecting those in the international community. To remain ignorant, and to applaud this ignorance is to intentionally disrespect other cultures. Maybe you don’t need to pretend to be a Frenchman in France, but you can respect them by learning about their culture and avoiding the obvious errors. Mater may win over other cultures by the end of the movie, but odds are that our insensitivity won’t produce the same results. Mater’s cultural ignorance is not okay for you.

Let’s get some of the details out of the way. The book is hilarious, I mean laugh-out-loud uncontrollably hilarious. Fey’s comedic wit permeates nearly every line of every page. Whether she’s writing about her first period, her father, her lack of boyfriends, her job at the YMCA, or photo shoots, you can’t help but laugh. The book is also pretty crass and at times vulgar. She references genitalia frequently for some strange reason. But the truth is that Fey doesn’t really care if you like it or not (she wrote an entire chapter just on that point, aptly titled “I don’t care if you like it”). The book is also obviously geared toward women and frequently offers inspirational messages to the working woman, the mom, and the girl struggling to make it in showbiz. Not being at any of those stages of life… oh and not being woman too, means there’s much of the book that just doesn’t resonate with me, and yet I was still engaged by every chapter. Fey’s style is captivating (as my 3 a.m. moment revealed). In all actuality I learned a great deal about Fey, an actress, writer, and producer whose work I love. What I most enjoyed learning, however, is that even while Fey and I will disagree on many things (she is after all a feminist liberal and I am a conservative pastor) this is exactly the kind of person I would love to have lunch with.

It seems that Fey doesn’t take anything so seriously that it isn’t worth poking fun at, including herself. It’s not that she is disrespectful (well, except when responding to “fan” mail. See “Dear Internet” page 163). The truth is that she realizes every political party, every religious group, every celebrity, everyone everywhere in fact has had a Sarah Palin, Charlie Sheen, or Tina Fey moment. To be honest, it was incredibly refreshing to read and reflect on these facts. In a world and context where everyone takes themselves, their politics and their views so seriously that they can’t take a joke, Tina Fey serves as a breath of fresh air.

She is smart, there’s no denying that, but she doesn’t come off as pretentious. She comes off, instead as an average person. She has moments of pettiness that she regrets, like when she manipulated a director not to cast the girl who “stole” her boyfriend. She has moments of craziness, like when she left work at SNL without telling anyone because she was afraid of anthrax. She both loves and hates the way she looks. She seems rather shocked at her climb to celebrity status, her getting the job at SNL, and 30 Rock’s success. But nonetheless there she is standing in the spotlight.

The truth is, of course, that Tina Fey is a brilliant writer with a gift for good comedy that excels at subtlety. Both 30 Rock and Bossypants demonstrate her skill with the hilarious tertiary comment and the subtle mocking. But she doesn’t take herself so seriously that she has to put on some semi-elitist façade. She doesn’t think she’s above everyone else, that she shouldn’t have to face crappy days, nor does she pretend to have life all together (read the chapter about her honeymoon). The book reminds me, in typical Fey fashion, not to take myself so seriously. It reminds me to ease up, enjoy the craziness every now and again. It reminds me to laugh at others because they can do stupid things, and they need to take themselves less seriously. It also reminds me to laugh at myself, because I am not as smart, funny, creative, or generally important as I often convince myself I am. The book reminds me to laugh at Tina Fey, because she is hilarious!

The guys who serve as attendants at The Corner Lot appear at first glance to be social misfits, but the truth is that many of them (if not all) are highly intelligent young men. Some are even doing graduate work in philosophy at the nearby University of Virginia. They are clever, witty, artistic, thoughtful, and concerned with the metaphysical and ethical. They despise the SUV, which isn’t simply a gas and space consuming machine, but an absurd testimony to culture’s narcissistic indulgence (so they tell us).

But despite all these little tidbits of info which we get from watching the documentary, the average customer coming through the Lot doesn’t care. To the average customer these guys, working to pay their bills, are useless and worthless. We frequently see customers try to skip out on their bill, uttering various slurs at the attendants, breaking their gates, parking illegally, and generally talking condescendingly to them. My favorite scenario recounted by one attendant has the father of a recent UV graduate giving a “pep talk” to the attendant: If you got a college degree like my son you wouldn’t have to work this job.

The whole movie raises lots of questions in my mind:  at what point do our social courtesies disappear? What compels people to view others as inferior and worth less thought? I can understand the inebriated and intoxicated acting like idiots and being inconsiderate, but it is the average working business woman in her car who refuses to pay the bill that I don’t understand. It is the guy in the pick-up truck moving an orange cone so he can park illegally that I am confused by. It is the dad of a college graduate who finds time to offer unsolicited and presumptuous advice to a complete stranger that astounds me. But then another question comes to my mind: am I like this?

The Parking Lot Movie reveals the dark side of our world. It’s not rooted in organized crime, sex trafficking, and violent crime. Don’t misunderstand me, it’s there too and in far more horrific display with more serious ramifications, yet it does not emerge in these contexts out of a vacuum. What The Parking Lot Movie reveals is that disbelief in universal human dignity lives inside us all. It reveals itself in less dramatic ways for most of us, but it’s there. It’s there when we leave a terrible tip at the restaurant, it’s there when we yell at the slow driver in front of us, it’s there when we ignore our children. Wherever we think of ourselves as more important, our time more valuable, our demands more urgent than those of another we are approaching that place of devaluing the image of God in them. God’s Word tells us that all men have been created in the image of God. This Imago Dei guarantees that we have worth and value as human creations of the great Creator. Of course it’s not always that way. Sometimes there are urgent needs and pressing matters, and sometimes one person’s opinion may be more valid than another’s, but even then we are never given the right to treat another person like anything less than just that…a person. So the next time you’re in the parking lot remember that the value of a person is not in their position in life, but in their relationship to the Creator.

“I am convinced that we as Christ followers in American churches have embraced values and ideas that are not only unbiblical but that actually contradict the gospel we claim to believe. And I am convinced we have a choice” (3). So Platt begins his book, and he stets us up to experience two things as we read: 1) the reality that Christ’s call to discipleship looks vastly different from the model found in most American churches. Platt wants us to see that Jesus actually calls us to give up, sacrifice, and leave behind the things that this world and that we by nature value so much. He begins in chapter one by exploring some of the more intriguing responses Jesus gives to would-be disciples. He unpacks Luke 9, Mark 10, and Matthew 4 for us and shows us what is lying right before our eyes in the text, but which we have more often than not missed: we do have to give up everything we have to follow Jesus (12). 2) He sets us up to experience the weightiness of saying no to this radical call. Platt warns us, right at the outset here in chapter one, that “the price of our nondiscipleship is high” (15). Platt will go on throughout the book to highlight how our “nondiscipleship” will cost the lost and the poor, but he warns us that it will cost us as well. Platt pulls a Piper here and turns to consider how the pursuit of Jesus leads ultimately to our greatest joy (of course the Bible screams this even more than Piper). He takes us to Matthew 13 and reminds us that Jesus is worth losing everything for. Sell all you own and buy the field with the great treasure, he urges. The book is filled with hard hitting, memorable, and straightforward warnings. Here is just one such example, Platt writes:

If we walk away from the Jesus of the gospel, we walk away from eternal riches. The cost of nondiscipleship is profoundly greater for us than the cost of discipleship. For when we abandon the trinkets of this world and respond to the radical invitation of Jesus, we discover the infinite treasure of knowing and experiencing him (18).

The motivation to join Platt, and his mega-church, on this radical abandonment for Jesus has only just begun.

Platt spends some time in the next chapter reviewing the gospel for readers. He continually, throughout the book, draws a distinction between what he sees of the church in other parts of the world, particularly the underground church in Asia, and the church in America. He points out how their worship gatherings are so vastly different than ours. They don’t have all the amenities and luxuries that our churches have. “God’s Word is enough for millions of believers who gather in house churches just like this one…But is his Word enough for us” (26)? It is Platt’s conviction that if we will truly understand the gospel then we too can find our satisfaction in God’s Word. First, we must understand who God is if we are to rightly understand discipleship.

The gospel reveals eternal realities about God that we would sometimes not rather face. We prefer to sit back, enjoy our clichés, and picture God as a Father who might help us, all the while ignoring God as a Judge who might damn us. Maybe this is why we fill our lives with the constant drivel of entertainment in our culture – and in our church. We are afraid to stop and really look at God in his Word, we might discover he evokes greater awe and demands deeper worship than we are ready to give him (29).

This is the God of Scripture, not the fluffy God of so much modern American theology. Add to this the gospel picture of man as sinful and as rebels against God and we are getting closer to what drives radical discipleship. We are God’s enemies, already condemned because of our disobedience. In light of this, Platt tells us, we must turn to Jesus as our only hope. This is the gospel. “How should we respond to this gospel,” Platt asks. “Suddenly contemporary Christianity sales pitches don’t seem adequate anymore…Our attempt to reduce this gospel to a shrink-wrapped presentation that persuades someone to say or pray the right things back to us no longer seems appropriate” (36-37). The rest of the book, then, unpacks what it means to respond to this gospel biblically and rightly: the unconditional surrender of all that we are and all that we have to all that he is (37).

Chapter three takes us on a journey to meet the end of our own strength. The gospel calls us to live, Platt argues (convincingly), to live in utter and total dependence upon God. The picture in the book of Acts concerning the growth of the church is quite different than the pragmatism and wealth obsessed culture of our churches; Platt does a quick survey of the scenes in Acts to paint the contrast clearly between our dependence on the self and their dependence on God. The difference, he says is the difference between powerful faith and puny faith. “Why would we ever want to settle for Christianity according to our ability or settle for church according to our resources? The power of the one who raised Jesus from the dead is living in us, and as a result we have no need to muster up our own might” (60).

Next, Platt turns our attention outward. Having considered what it looks like internally to be a genuine disciple of Jesus, he points us to consider how that affects our relationship to others. Particularly this chapter focuses on God’s vision of a people from every tribe, tongue, and nation, on the Great Commission. God calls us to action to spread his word with the “4.5 billion people who, if the gospel is true, at this moment are separated from God in their sin and (assuming nothing changes) will spend eternity in hell” (76). If the numbers don’t stir you then consider chapter 5, that the call to make disciples is placed on all of us as a command from Jesus himself. “Disciple making is not a call for others to come to us to hear the gospel but a command for us to go to others to share the gospel. A command for us to be gospel-living, gospel-speaking people at every moment and in every context where we find ourselves” (94).

I am a guy of boxes and systems, of organization and progressive development. I like things structured and in order and so when I began reading chapter 6 it seemed out of place. It didn’t seem to make sense. I think part of the reason for this is that the issue of wealth, which chapter 6 deals with in detail, is taken for granted as an honorable pursuit. Platt spends a great amount of time building a theological case against the pursuit of wealth, looking at both Old Testament and New Testament teachings. The connection to the rest of the book comes, in the words of Platt, as both evidence of my salvation and as an aspect of gospel work. He writes:

Suddenly I began to realize that if I have been commanded to make disciples of all nations, and if poverty is rampant in the world to which God has called me, then I cannot ignore these realities. Anyone wanting to proclaim the glory of Christ to the ends of the earth must consider not only how to declare the gospel verbally but also how to demonstrate the gospel visibly in a world where so many are urgently hungry. If I am going to address urgent spiritual need by sharing the gospel of Christ or building up the body of Christ around the world, then I cannot overlook dire physical need in the process (108-109).

Platt gives us global stats and personal stories to continue the motivation, they are each powerful in their own right. Most powerfully, however, is that he warns us of the danger of overlooking what could be sin in our hearts. “This frightens me. Good intentions, regular worship, and even study of the Bible do not prevent blindness in us. Part of our sinful nature instinctively chooses to see what we want to see and to ignore what we want to ignore. I can live my Christian life and even lead the church while unknowingly overlooking evil” (108).

Chapters 7 and 8 give us two last stirring motivations. The first highlights for us the urgency of the situation, it’s a negative motivation. “There is no plan B,” we are it! “If people are dying and going to hell without ever even knowing there is a gospel, then we clearly have no time to waste our lives on an American dream” (143). Chapter 8 gives us the positive motivation by pointing out, again, that there is great reward in risking it all for Jesus. Dying is gain, Paul said, and Platt builds upon this theology to call us into radical living. “If you and I ever hope to free our lives from worldly desires, worldly thinking, worldly pleasures, worldly dreams, worldly ideals, worldly values, worldly ambitions, and worldly acclaim, then we must focus our lives on another world.” “Your life is free to be radical when you see death as reward” (179).

The book concludes with calling us to specific action. Often reading these types of books can be inspirational, but once the book has been read and re-shelved it becomes nothing more than a fond memory. Platt wants us to act on what we have learned. He invites us to join him and his church on this one year Radical Experiment. It involves reading through the whole Bible, praying for the whole world, sacrificing our money for a specific purpose, spending time in a different context, and committing to a local church family.

This book affected me in deep ways. When I read it I had been wrestling with my own self-indulgence for months, feeling God’s call on me to make serious changes. The problem for me, as I assume it is for most of us, is that I did not know where to begin. Radical provided me with specific targets. Each of his criticisms comes not just with condemnation for specific values and habits of the church but Biblical alternatives. The stories in each chapter from Platt’s own life and from the lives of his church family give concrete pictures of what this looks like. Best of all the work comes off with certainty where it can and humility where it should. Platt does not contend that he has this radical discipleship concept all figured out. He offers qualifiers where necessary, especially in chapters 6 on wealth, but he warns us too that it is easy to justify sin while we overlook the clear teachings of Scripture. The picture he paints of radical discipleship cries out to so many readers because it both gives purpose and freedom, and that is not by Platt’s design, it’s by Jesus’ design.

I don’t know David Platt personally. I have never been to his church, though I have heard great things about it. In fact I have only heard him preach on a few occasions and yet as I read from the pages of Radical I can’t help but feel his genuineness, honesty, humility, and passion come through the pages. Few books that critique the church as boldly as this one come off without being pretentious, Platt has achieved that nicely. In fact, David Platt’s call to radical Christian living doesn’t so much feel like his call. Rather, because his book is saturated in so much Scripture and Biblical-theological thinking, the call to radical Christian living sounds more like Jesus’ call.

I don’t know Amos’ story with any real depth to be able to tell if the church or personal faith are or were a part of it. The history of blues and soul music is, of course, filled with references to Jesus, and Lee is a quality blues musician. It was quite a sight to watch half drunk people, with Coors cans in hand, sing along to “Jesus can you help me now.” Even the lesbian couple in front of us enjoyed the opening act, a duo of sisters from Alabama who sang some old gospel hymns. The whole experience reminded me of two things: (1) that music has a certain power, and (2) that there is a commonplace comfort people have with Jesus.

There are some things which possess an almost innate power. One such thing is Amos Lee’s voice, which is smokey, rich, and captivating. But in general terms music has this power over us to draw us in and to keep us. It has a way of making real ideas even more affecting. Amos sang about love (In the Arms of Woman) and dozens of women seemingly swooned. He sang about hardships and hopes (Careless, Keep It Loose, Keep it Tight, Bottom of the Barrel), which made the whole room shout and cheer. But as he sang about Jesus, salvation, and the cleansing of the soul the room sang right along. The music was so compelling and his voice so alluring  that you can’t help but sing along. Poets and musicians hold such a power in our culture (granted it is one that we give them), I can only say that I am grateful for the responsibility that Lee seemingly takes for his music.

The power of music is, however, something you might notice at any concert. There were as many people worshiping Amos Lee last night as there will be worshiping the next band to play Indianapolis. But the recurring gospel-themes were a somewhat unique feature for Lee’s performance. It reminded me of just how much people like Jesus. Most have no real problem with this character of American culture. He is so natural for many, especially in the Midwest. In fact historian Stephen Nichols has stated that Jesus is as American as apple pie. Now, it’s not the same “Jesus” that we see in scripture. Most of the references were to a Jesus who is there to get me out of a pinch, help me realize my dreams, help me get over my past (all good things that Jesus can do, but not quite the heart of who He is). It was really a “Jesus” of the near gospel truth, the Jesus of much common cultural spiritual thinking. It was both endearing to see and hear and sad. Many people believe that this is all the Jesus they need. Many folks last night were near to the Kingdom of Heaven, but only God knows if they are in. This is true for many of us and many that we know. Being okay with the culture’s picture of Jesus is not enough… no matter how smooth and cool it sounds.

There are some things you can just never get away from. Like cell phones, Lady Gaga, and mullets and the county fair they are everywhere. As I sat in Borders a few weeks ago it occurred to me that pop-culture is like that. I was reading and drinking my coffee while music played over the air waves, magazine covers proclaimed news (and not news) to me, and my daughter watched cartoons on my iPad. There was simply no escaping pop-culture, despite the fact that I have been on a self-imposed hiatus from such things since February.

Since starting this experiment I have learned much about myself. Recently, however, one of the most intriguing realizations was about others and the role they play in my cultural awareness. In my pop-culture fast I have found it difficult to be isolated and uninformed; instead, what I have found is that in the absence of cultural indulgence I have found more cultural engagement.

Since breaking from television and leisure internet use I have not found myself out of the loop, at least not to any great degree. I didn’t miss the storm that is Rob Bell’s new book (though I wish I had), and I haven’t missed news about earthquakes, tsunamis, and nuclear meltdowns. I haven’t missed the NFL player lock out (or Ochocinco’s attempts to play professional soccer). Even while I have attempted to cut back my pop-culture intake I have still received much information via my friends and family.

And what’s interesting is that because I haven’t just been reading random blog posts and news articles I have engaged my friends on these subjects, and countless more important issues, at a deeper level. I ask more questions, I listen more carefully, and generally I have more conversations. Now that my TV is off and my computer is shut down I have conversed more and indeed learned more through thoughtful conversation. Even just last week my wife and I spent the evening discussing more specifically than ever issues about our vision and strategy for parenting, things that we both just assumed but never talked out. It has proved immensely helpful and clarifying for our home.

We here at CaPC believe strongly in the importance of communication and dialogue about cultural artifacts, not just consumption. The truth is, however, for many of us (for me at least) the enormous amount of pop-cultural intake that occurs daily can easily lead to careless consumption. This three month break has lead not only to less consumption, which is generally good, but increased thoughtfulness as well. This is more generally a problem of information overload than of pop-culture in general, and I definitely don’t want to communicate that you should only receive second and third-hand information. Nonetheless the important point for me has been the renewed development of cultural conversations. My hiatus has not left me in the dark. In fact, thanks to my community, it has given me more light.

For starters I have learned that my default mode, most days, is to watch TV, play video games, and surf the web. It struck me almost instantly how mindlessly routine these habits were for me. I was practicing the exact opposite of what I support here at Christ and Pop Culture (thoughtful media consumption). In a couple of cases I found myself on Facebook poking around only to realize, within seconds thankfully, that I was suppose to be avoiding it. It caught me off guard just how commonplace these habits were for me. Almost like natural impulses in the moment of boredom.

I also discovered that this is much harder in some respects than I thought it would be. I thought three months, while seemingly long, would really fly by. The truth is that after two weeks I was wondering, “Why did you say three months…you idiot!” Some habits are simply hard to break and the desire to return to them, give up, or give in has been hard to resist. This, I think, really says some things about me which I want to probe more deeply.

Lastly, I have discovered that these things which I so love, yet which can be a distraction are not what is keeping me from growing spiritually and pursuing Jesus. Sadly, even after taking them all away I found myself not reading my Bible more and praying more. Instead I was filling those empty time slots with other things. You see it’s not my habits and my activities that are keeping me from studying my Bible and praying, it’s me. I am my biggest hindrance. Thankfully as the month has gone on I have been more intentional about my Bible reading and my prayer time (though the latter still needs special attention), but I had to focus my efforts there and not simply assume that the removal of other distractions would automatically lead to greater spiritual development. Of course I knew this, I am not so naïve (at least I don’t think), but the reality of it hit me hard.

As month two gets ready to start I am anxious to see what the longevity of this commitment will produce. I intend to keep at it, and by the grace of God to realize some better habits of self-control and more intentional spiritual development. The removal of TV, film, video games, and leisure computer access have allowed me a whole host of opportunities to work on other areas of my life: family (this has seen the most immediate change), friendships, and personal studies. I am grateful for these changes, even while I miss some of my old habits. Time will tell the progress I make, and if this was even worth it. For the moment I will ponder all these things and what they mean for me personally…and occasionally I’ll still ponder what you’re status update says.

I’ve never been much of a gamer. Beyond a few casual play sessions and a few random purchases of older systems I never did bother with video games much. But as I have read the game-related writings of my fellow CaPC writers, and others, and as I have seen the games played by others I must admit that I have grown fascinated with video games. The stories that surround many of the most popular and acclaimed games are compelling and powerful. Add to this the fact that video games allow me suddenly to participate in these stories in ways that I had never considered. With each game I am being forced to ask myself meaningful questions about ethical living and the moral response to various conflicts. I’ll grant, of course, that the worlds of BioShock and other games are fictional, yet these fictional stories (like all good stories) make me ask questions about real life. Owning an Xbox 360 has in many ways changed gaming for me.

I am still probably not much of a gamer, but taking time to consider carefully what games I play has brought me to consider carefully a host of related issues. I can’t play Dante’s Inferno and feel comfortable with the images and the actions the game calls me to take (like, for example, killing deformed babies). I love acting as Batman and rescuing Arkham Asylum. And I feel the eeriness of Bioshock along with its characters. These stories make me ask questions about parenting, about redemption, second chances, oppression, heroism, and a host of other ideas that I dont’ take enough time to consider in my day-to-day comings and goings. It’s not that gaming itself has done this for me. It is the compelling story lines and gameplay, much of which has changed the face of gaming.

As a Christian I must appreciate the stregnth of good storytelling and the importance of stories (especially true ones like those of the gospels). That’s why this pastor has found a little bit of time every now and again to enjoy a video game. Some of these stories do matter.

If I am honest my city was invaded a long time ago and I’ve been living in subjection to a new master for some time. I am in many ways a slave to self-indulgence and comfort. For months now I have had a strong and pressing conviction from the Holy Spirit that my lifestyle needs to change, but my soul is so sick that on many occassions after recognizing this conviction I have simply said, “I don’t want to.” The results have been that this self-indulgence, like a poison, has spread rapidly into every area of my life and I am, in many ways,  a man without self-control. I consume constantly, at every moment, and indulge my desire at every turn. I give little time and attention to my spiritual malnutrition and I need, desperately, a self-discipline jump start to get me moving in the right direction. That is just what I aim to do.

We have some friends who just started working out with P90X. This is the super insane workout regimine that requires new diets, hours of physical excertion, and a general change in your lifestyle. It occured to me, then, as they were explaining their new disicpline that this is what I need for my spiritual life. I need a P90X for Jesus. I need something that will force me to change my habits, break some connections, and start up some much needed new styles of living. So for the next three months I am doing a self-discipline boot camp and it involves a break from a lot of pop-culture and other lifestyle elements.

The “workout” is in three phases.

Phase 1: An immediate break (starting in February) from all leisure internet, television/movie watching, and video game playing. As well as the addition of the gradual decline of my addictive coffee intake.

Phase 2: A complete break from all coffee and a refusal to buy any more unnecessary items for myself (especially music and books).

Phase 3: I requirement to be out of my house for at least three evenings a week spending time with non-Christians.

Though some may see this as a legalistic attempt to change my spirituality, I know that my habits are such that I will grow more and more lazy and self-absorbed over time if a drastic change does not occur. This is my self-control jump start. This is my attempt to make a start to real change in how I spend my time. If I cannot say Jesus is my first love then I need to make changes. I won’t ever be perfect, I know that (thankfully so does Jesus), but that’s no excuse for not progressing in holiness.

My hope is to write a monthly update to give some continued insight into how the process is going and to post it here at CAPC. My prayer is that there will be good evidence of change in my heart as there is forced change in my life. It’s time to rebuild the walls to my city!

Hipster Christianity is at once one of the most interesting and most frustrating books I’ve read this year. The concept for the book was incredibly attractive to me. A cultural analysis of a particular young Christian subculture today as it reacts to growing up in fundamentalist circles and suddenly discovering a larger world. The reviews of the book were a bit disappointing as they seemed to indicate McCracken was simply lambasting young people for contaminating the church and the gospel with the culture. But having read the book I am convinced that neither of those statements truly represents the book itself, which is perhaps why it’s so frustrating. It’s very hard to pinpoint exactly what McCracken is attempting to accomplish with this work.

In the first part of the book (chapters 1-3) McCracken gives us a cultural history of “cool,” “hip,” and “Christian hipsters.” It’s interesting, even if I am not sure it’s totally accurate. McCracken writes with an engaging style and good use of wit. But by the end of chapter three I am not entirely sure where he’s going. His definition of “Hipster” doesn’t seem to help either: fashionable young people. The definition is so broad and so soft that it may be more indicative of just how hard defining “hipster” really is. McCracken gives a nod to this reality but pushed on ahead anyways. For him “hipsters” are basically defined by their obsession with style, and for part two of the work he builds his case by analyzing every “form” of Christian hipster on display in the culture. His analysis consists of what they wear, what music they like, and what “vices” they indulge in. So you might be a Christian Hipster if…

…You don’t like Pat Roberts, TBN, Joel Osteen, CCM, American flags in churches, phrases like “soul winning” and “nondenominational.” And if you prefer the term “Christ follower” over “Christian.”

…You like left wing politics, smoking, drinking, swearing, communion with real port and common cups, tattoos, piercings, skateboarding, social justice, art and buying organic.

…Your role models include (but are not necessarily limited to): Sufjan Stevens (he is apparently Christian hip epitomized, according to McCracken), Shane Claiborne, Lauren Winner, Jay Bakker, Donald Miller, Mark Driscoll, and Rob Bell.

…You went to a Christian college (especially Calvin College), studies abroad (especially Oxford), or did missions work in Zambia post graduation.

…You wear skinny jeans, Jesus kitsch  tees, vintage, thrift, or retro clothes, or Kenneth Cole apparel.

My contention with all of this is that it is so broad, and takes so little consideration of major distinguishing features, that it seems little more than humorous, and that’s how most of the book feels. McCracken is witty and sarcastic, even sardonic, at times. I laughed out loud, even when I hated feeling like he had pegged me in one of his categories. But the reality is that he has pegged just about everyone I know in one of his categories. If you like ancient religious practices with a bent towards Eastern Orthodox worship you’re a hipster. If you like high technological usage, like tweeting during the sermon, then you’re a hipster…and seemingly everything in between. If you’re a yuppie or a starving artist you’re a hipster. If you’re a Calvinist or an Emergent you’re a hipster. And this all just seems like nonsense after a while.

By the end of the book McCracken has summed up his own uncertainty with the startling realization that some Christian Hipsters are all about style and earning “cool points,” while others are actually legitimately interested in enjoying God’s creation and finding real truth, beauty, and aesthetic quality in the world He has made. Some churches are cool and some are trying too hard. “Cool” as rebellion is unacceptable to Christianity, “cool” as authentic counterculture is Biblical. All in all McCracken could have said this rather obvious statement in far fewer pages and with far less confusion. The concept of the book has real potential and I hope this work will spur on a more in-depth discussion of Hipster Christianity. McCracken, however, hasn’t given us a whole lot to work with.

At some point during the series, however, a thought arose in my mind: there are some Christians who would be ardently opposed to watching this cartoon because it is rooted in Asian religions. How could a Christian, and a pastor no less, justify watching a cartoon that is rooted in a falsehood? My answer: Good art helps us to understand better both the Biblical and un-Biblical aspects of our world and selves.

Even though The Last Airbender is rooted in Asian philosophies and religions it is not an exact model of one. It’s not strictly a Buddhist cartoon, though it clearly contains elements from Buddhism. It is a collection of elements and themes from various Asian religions and philosophies, but not one singular representation. But what’s most interesting for me is that in many cases the show reflects Christian concepts, particularly love and self-sacrifice.

Take for example Aang’s self-sacrifice. I recognize that love of thy  neighbor is not exactly isolated to the Christian religion, but in Buddhism, at least (and Aang, after all, is a Buddhist monk), the highest ideal is spiritual enlightenment. Spiritual enlightenment cannot be attained by killing another. Aang is instructed by previous Avatars that this is what he must do. He must forgo the attainment of Nirvana in order to save the world. It is a beautiful, if clearly nuanced, picture of the work of Christ.

All religions are not equal. I am distinctly orthodox on this point. There is only one way to heaven and only one name for salvation: Jesus Christ. Yet my appreciation of art is not limited to only those that blatantly represent this truth. I can enjoy all art that reflects the truths of Scripture, and I can still learn much about my world from those who disagree with my faith. And Avatar: The Last Airbender, Christian or not, is good art!

Satire works great as a means to offering a critique, and I am of course quite satisfied to mock and belittle Hitler, whose disgusting acts warrant him no sympathy. Yet I can’t help but wonder what the creators of this comic are aiming to critique. Is it Hitler? Well kudos to them, but I am not sure how casting him as a trendy young bohemian does that. Is it hipsters? They are ripe for the picking but why use Hitler as a model? That seems strange at best and may actually serve to undermine the atrocities of Hitler’s work. Hitler’s t-shirt collection, which the creators give the character to wear, though funny, seem to do just that. For example Hipster Hitler’s t-shirt slogans include: “Death Camp for Cutie,” “East side, West side, Genocide,” “Mix Master Race,” and “I Love Juice.”

I have no problem with satire. When done rightly it is an incredibly effective tool. But as a Christian I want to strive to make a point with tactfulness and sensitivity. There are cases where offending others can’t be avoided, and in fact may be necessary. Using Hitler as a joke, however, (especially when there doesn’t seem to be a larger point) is difficult for this particular reader to handle. I confess, I laughed at Hipster Hitler, but I didn’t like it.

This Week: After a relatively quiet Black Friday, it seems fitting to remember just how ugly Black Friday can become, as it did in November of 2008…

By now I’m sure you’ve all heard that a man was trampled to death at Wal-Mart while opening the doors for “Black Friday.” It’s a sad testimony to the greedy, self-absorbed culture that American consumerism (combined with total depravity) has created. How a mass of people can continue to walk over an actual human being lying on the ground is mind boggling to me, and then to find out that they have, by their combined efforts, killed this man is an outrage. Of course I can’t help but wonder how this will affect Black Friday.

Will the stamping to death of a human being tarnish this “Black” day? One can only hope that it will compel department stores to think differently about how they participate in the holiday. Some are already suggesting that such re-thinking will happen, and I can imagine that there will be some new safe guards that stores put in place for their employees, but in a world where the almighty dollar rules you can imagine that not much will change.

Black Friday is so necessary for many stores to stay out of the “red” that they will resist hampering the masses from storming their doors. Anything that may add to a decline of shoppers will be avoided like the plague. A little more blackened or not, I don’t suspect much will change in terms of Black Friday.

But as Christians we must think carefully about our part. I would love to say that were I one of those in the materialistic hungry stampede I would have bent to pick up this poor beaten down man, but I can see myself trying to jump over him (because of course this is better than stomping on him, right?) while I raced to get some new iPod gadget. I need to be careful that my judgment of these Wal-Mart stompers isn’t self-righteous. I am, because of my sin, all too likely to knock someone over on my way to grab a rare book off the store shelves. We are all sinners, capable of all sorts of sins, and we must beware of a self-righteousness that says I am obviously better than them. Jesus warns us well of such things!

So if you participate next year in this tarnished Black Friday you should beware of your judgments, and, perhaps even more significantly, beware of what you step on.

Perhaps it is a genuine lack of ignorance. Most homeless individuals are isolated to certain parts of a community and unless you’re intentionally looking for them you may not find them. More likely this ignorance is self-induced. The reality is that homelessness is real, it’s ugly, and there are no easy answers to helping homeless people. Throwing money around doesn’t seem to have aided the situation much. Shelters are only a band aid (even if a very important one). Most of us don’t even know what to do to care for the homeless. The solution, however, has to begin with being more honest about and conscious of homeless people. And it is important that we speak of them as homeless people, and not just generically as “the homeless”.

When we forget that the homeless are real people we can feel no real pressing need to address the problem of homelessness, or (perhaps worse) we can address it in ridiculous and asinine ways: like making it illegal to be a homeless person. For Christians there is no excuse for ignoring the realities of homelessness and the people it affects. God calls us to care for those who are the “least” among men. He calls us to compassion and love. We, above all people, must be motivated to think hard and pray hard for the homeless in our communities, and then we must act where we can.

A number of years ago a New York mayor had determined that if every church in the city would adopt two homeless people and care for them they could at least nearly, if not totally, wipe out homelessness in their city. Even if the idea was a bit overly optimistic the response was sickening. Only three churches responded! Christian, Christ has called you to love the “least of these”. Whatever that looks like, whatever that means for your context, it must mean that you respond. The real problem with homelessness is that few people seem to care enough to do just that.

This Week: If you’re not rethinking Halloween, you’re most likely celebrating another holiday on October 31st. David Dunham provides some helpful hints.

Just in case you were unaware: October 31st is an important date for Protestants, and it has nothing to do with Halloween. October 31st is known as Reformation Day. It was this day in 1517 that Martin Luther, a Catholic monk, nailed his 95 Theses for discussion to the church door in Wittenberg. What resulted over the course of many years was a massive reformation of the Christian church.

Many Christians, in an attempt to offer an alternative to Halloween, celebrate Reformation day on October 31st. It is, indeed, a great day to celebrate, but some who celebrate it in response to Halloween really make protestants look ridiculous. So I would like to propose a few tips for hosting a fun Reformation Day celebration, while at the same time avoiding some of the common mistakes that other Reformation celebrations tend to make:

(1) Use Halloween as a template, not as a target. Even if you think Halloween is some morally/spiritually evil holiday (see my article Is Halloween Sin?), don’t make your festivities about bashing a nationally recognized holiday. For one, it simply sets a bad tone for your party. At this level your party becomes a “how-can-we-be-better-than-those-who-celebrate-halloween” party, which not only doesn’t sound inviting, but in fact simply sounds arrogant. Secondly, it also limits those who are willing to come. If you use the Halloween template, however, and simply invite people over for a Halloween type party that focuses on also celebrating the Reformation then more people will want to participate.

(2) Don’t Lecture Everyone About Luther. While it is important to remember history, it’s also important to remember that some (many?) of your guests may not like history to the same degree as you. Furthermore, not many people really like to be lectured at while partying.

(3) Themed Parties Can Be Fun, But Don’t Overdo It. Most people just like hanging out with friends while at a party. They don’t need to or even want to play “Pin the Theses on the Church Door” or “Calvinst Crosswords” etc. Keep that in mind as you plan your party. You can dress up like Luther and have fun with the theme, but there’s a point at which dorkiness and goofiness can become obnoxious. Know where the line is and don’t cross it.

I hope your parties are fun this weekend, and remember that above all else remembering Luther won’t be nearly as important as serving your friends and spending time with them. Jesus is more concerned with your love of your neighbors then your remembrance of the Reformation.

It’s not exactly sound Biblical theology, but neither is it totally false. After all, many protestant Christians affirm both total depravity and common grace. But somehow I don’t think that’s how the writers of  Showtime’s Dexter intend the statement to be taken. Dexter after all is a crime dramedy about a forensics specialist with the Miami PD who has a particularly gruesome late night hobby: serial killing. This theme, that we are all good and evil, is a recurring one throughout the series. It makes for some interesting television, but the message itself seems flawed when we consider who is communicating it.

Dexter Morgan is the lovable yet unsettling serial killer and main star of the show. The plot line revolves around his struggle to deal with his internal demons and to hide them from his closest friends and family. That story is compelling to watch and disturbing. But that story often gets mixed in with the related point that like Dexter, we all have masks that we wear. Repeatedly Dexter’s voice-over reminds us that he’s not the only one wearing a mask. First and foremost are nearly all of his victims, who though they appear like normal and decent people, are actually secret murderers themselves. Take for example the car salesman who rapes and murders potential female buyers; or look at the junk yard manager who holds refugees and illegal immigrants for ransom. But beyond those “bad guys” there are the other regulars on the show who wear their own masks.

Deborah, Dexter’s sister, hides her low self-esteem behind a veneer of bravado and a foul mouth that boasts of confidence. Dexter’s boss is struggling to hide her career mishaps since she accidentally landed in the position of lieutenant. Then there is Dexter’s co-workers who each respectively hide their divorce or their military background. In short, Dexter would have us believe that we are not all so very different from him. We all have our demons and our dark places. We all wear our masks and conceal who we really are. We all, like him, play the game of polite society.

The point is true at one level. Often we do wear masks and keep the skeletons in our closets. None of us is perfect and none of us wants everyone to know everything about us, our pasts, and our failures. Yet this point is largely lost when we consider that the one communicating it is a serial killer. Of course, no sin is worse than another in the eyes of God. That is to say we are all sinners and if you have broken even one part of the law, the Scriptures say, then you have broken them all. Jesus even highlights how our view of sin and his differ, and we are far worse than we think (if you lust it’s the same as adultery; if you hate it’s the same as murder). But somehow a serial killer’s attempts to communicate this point actually diminishes its truthfulness. In fact this theme gets communicated at points throughout the show in a way that it starts to feel preachy and overbearing. And it’s not the kind of preaching that pricks at sin in your heart. It’s the kind of preaching that feels pretentious and self-righteous.

I actually like the show, though it should be said that it is not for the squeamish or the easily terrified. It also contains excessive foul language and an occasional nude scene. Nonetheless Dexter is a brilliantly crafted dark comedy. But that one theme just doesn’t seem to fit with the story. I’ll be the first to admit that we are indeed all sinners. But while Dexter is telling me that I have a speck in my eye, he’s got a massive log sticking out of his own and I just can’t get past that to hear his moral counsel.

…his analysis only works if, in fact, all hipsters are really just posers. That is, McCracken effectively reduces all hipsters to posers precisely because he can only imagine someone adopting such a lifestyle in order to be cool. Let me say it again: this tells us more about McCracken than it does about those young Christians who are spurning conservative, bourgeois values.

The album is over an hour long and at various points it feels longer. Each song is, however, a  blend of soul and hip-hop sounds and socially conscious lyrics, which makes it a rather unique contemporary offering. The title track “Wake Up Everybody” demonstrates both its musical and optimistic sounds well.

The first verse starts, “Wake up everybody, no more sleeping in bed. No more backward thinking, time for thinking ahead. The world has changed so very much from what it use to be. There is so much hatred, war, and poverty.” The following verses then call on teachers, doctors, and builders to wake up and work towards making a better world. The chorus then chimes in, “The world won’t get no better, if we just let it be. The world won’t get no better, we got to change it, yeah, just you and me.” The very next song sings out “Our generation, the hope of the world.” Love “the way it should be” is a theme that echoes throughout the whole album and beckons us to put hate away. This is, of course, all an ideal that is hard to see as a reality in this life. The notion that humanity has the capacity to actually change their world to this degree is not just hard to realize. It’s also completely unbiblical.

The Scriptures teach that man’s heart is wicked, born in sin, and that his heart needs to be fixed before his behavior can be changed. Only God can make this kind of change. The Roots and Legend call on God’s name at various points in the record. Rapper Common says on the title track, “Even when I fell in God I believe;” and “Created in this image so God live through us.” Ultimately, however, this theology still falls short of the reality of man’s total depravity and our great need for an external savior to change our hearts. That being said, I can’t help but compare Wake Up!‘s optimism with much of the church’s “realism.”

Since pop-Christianity’s transition from a post-millenial theology to a pre-millenial dispensational theology it is common to hear language about our world which, while readily recognizing total depravity (as did post-millenial theology), suggests that the world is destined to go to hell in a hand basket. What this means for much of the church, then, is that involvement in social causes and “world changing” is contrary to our eschatology. Historically this has not always been so. It was the church who originally founded schools, hospitals, and orphanages. It was the church who fought for prison reform and the end of slavery.The church, then, has not always been so “realistic.”

I have really been enjoying Wake Up! It’s typical of both The Roots and Legend in its quality sound, but it has also propelled me to think more specifically about my role and the church’s role in helping our world. I don’t want to be as overly optimistic as they are. I know we are all sinners in need of a new heart. But I also know that by the Spirit of God I can and should have an impact on my world. The gospel certainly changes communities when it floods into the lives of people. So maybe it’s time for the church to Wake Up! once again and see our role in this world a bit more Biblically.

I recently read and reviewed Brett McCracken’s book Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide. My conclusion was that McCracken did a poor job of analyzing these so called “hipsters.” I am anxiously waiting for a thorough analysis and investigation of what these young Christians and their churches mean for the future of evangelicalism. As I wait, however, I thought I might as well try and attempt a simple look at some of the common trends among my Christian peers and offer up my own predictions. I am, myself, a young “20 something” pastor, and so I spend a great deal of time thinking about this relationship and what it means for the future, for the church, and for the gospel. My particular role at our church is in the discipleship ministry and I believe that the present and the future of discipleship among young adults is very excited.

You can call them “Hipsters” if you’d like, though the term is actually a derogatory term (Brett McCracken acknowledges this in his book, but suggests he can think of no other term befitting). You can call them Emergents or Neo-Calvinists, or some other name yet to be invented. Realistically I think it’s hard to categorize them into some group beyond young adults, but that is not to say, however, that there aren’t some common trends among young adult Christians that are worthy of an investigation. The hope is that as we study these trends together we see a way to encourage them and utilize their energies and passions for the good of the Kingdom of God. Of course in discipleship this should be done with all peoples, regardless of ages and interests. But since the topic of “Hipster” Christians is particularly popular at the moment it is worth a good discussion.

My goal in a forthcoming series of posts will be to analyze four trends among young adult Christians and what they mean for the future of evangelicalism, as best I can predict. First, Missions. Second, Social Justice. Third, Art. Lastly, Christian Liberty. What do you think are some common trends among young adult Christians today, and what do you think, if anything, these trends mean?