The Voice of God Ignores Objections

     For seventeen years I have had the privilege of being around firefighters, serving as a chaplain for two departments in Texas and then in Florida. During all of those times, I became accustomed to sharing with firefighters this often repeated affirmation: “I have no idea what benefit I may be to you, but you teach me things about God and people that I would not have learned otherwise.” One of the first things I ever learned about God in that arena was from Fate Fire Rescue in Fate, TX. Watching them put out the residential fire, comfort the family, and secure the safety of everyone taught me of the “Incarnational” nature of the first responder’s work. Functioning as the “hands and feet of God,” they execute the very rescue that those in time of need, during an emergency, called out to God for.
     What do I mean by “Incarnational?” There is a rich theological tradition, going back 2,000 years, that wrestled with the mystery of how Jesus Christ could be both fully divine and fully human; like the Father in all of his deity and like us in all of his humanity (except without any sin). Councils debated and argued over this, often fumbling around in the clumsiness of human language in an attempt to summarize what ultimately is a grand mystery. The mystery of the Incarnation is that Jesus was fully God and fully human. How exactly does that work? I don’t know and neither do you. One of the effects of that is: because of the Incarnational principle, chiefly and uniquely personified in Jesus Christ, we often can’t nail down “Was that a work of God or a work of people?” The most accurate answer often is “yes.”
     I say all that to say this: firefighters often do their work somehow unaware of how much they are performing the work of God.
     Firefighters might be unaware of this, but EMS patients and those rescued from calamity are very aware of if. The displaced family saved from a fully involved home at 2am is very aware of it. The people extricated from a crunched vehicle, stabilized and transported to the hospital are all very aware of it. This is because every call started with a prayer. Whether people vocalized it, or were even aware of it, when their emergency unfolded, they screamed deep inside their head “God, help me!” It was then that they had the wherewithal to dial 9-1-1. In response to that the call center personnel dispatched the apparatus and crew, but that was just the logistics of getting the prayer answered - the means by which God responded to the one in need - and those overjoyed by the arrival of the FD crew know it. I could always tell just from witnessing the response of those that called 9-1-1. It was obvious they’re thanking God in their heart for the responders that rolled up.
     If indeed firefighters function as “the hands and feet of God,” as I first heard at Fate Fire Rescue, then I have found they can also function as “the voice of God” as well. How can this be? For those that “have ears to hear,” it can be loud and clear. I once rode with an engine crew responding to an elderly patient whose symptoms dictated she go to the hospital quickly. She had a grown son who was able to make the decision to “please, take her to the hospital,” but even without that, her symptoms and cognitive impairments were such that the paramedic could easily make that call as well. Thing is… between answering diagnostic questions, she’d insert “I’m not going to the hospital.”
     The paramedic would respond, “Yes, ma’am. I understand that. Now could you place your feet on the floor for me?”
    “Yes, honey. Here you go” (swings her feet off the bed onto the floor), “but I’m not going to the hospital.”
    “Yes, ma’am. I understand. Now could you just come over here and sit on the stretcher?”
    “Yes, dear” (sits down on the stretcher), “but I’m not going to the hospital.”
    “Yes, ma’am. We’re just going to secure these straps for your comfort. Okay?”
     

     She went to the hospital. 

     The son was grateful over the gentle and professional way that the paramedic compassionately ignored her objections. As we rode away on the engine, I was struck by how clearly the whole thing sounded like “God’s voice” as he often calls the reluctant to repentance or into service; how He compassionately ignores the objections of the reluctant sinner or servant.
     We all know this person. They are the sinner who knows they need God’s forgiveness, but still struggles with an inappropriate sense of self-sufficiency. They are the worshiper trained for service, but whose life has gotten comfortable and doesn’t want any change. God calls, and they say “do I really need to answer right now?” The pursuit of God is a strange and formidable force. Is God’s grace irresistible? No. Sadly some of us can so commit to our own doom that, as a category of Divine judgment, we seemingly “get our way.” But for many of us, the resistance wasn’t all that firm, not completely rebellious, not fully committed to rejecting God’s “call.” We just don’t want the life change we know he’ll put us through. “I’m not going to the hospital,” we object. His response? “I hear you my child. I get that you’re scared. Now let’s get you strapped onto the stretcher, shall we.” Little by little we comply because his voice is so reassuring, so confident in what he’s doing, so authoritative in the moment, that we find our selves inexplicably complying. Next thing you know we’re already being transported, wondering what we were objecting to in the first place.
     I had been a pastor before, but was committed never to make that my profession again. I’d be happy to volunteer myself as much as possible. I loved serving in the local church and especially serving a local fire department as chaplain. Call after call, however, department after department, year after year, I steadily could hear God say “pay attention, because you WILL be back at it leading people into the worship of Jesus Christ.” I’d object, citing past failures. I’d object, citing a growing career as an archaeologist. I’d even object, declaring my ministerial volunteerism as a “sufficient response to the call.” Laughably, how many volunteer firefighters have I known that dreamt of becoming full time? (*face palm*)
    And… there was my most recent fire department of Seminole County, Florida. In my time with them I accompanied crews on well over 150 calls, was welcome at all 20 stations, rode every apparatus, and enjoyed more dinners with those crews than I can count. SCFD stood out as a particularly warm and welcoming department, and each night, each visit, each emergency I could spend time with them the “voice of God” just got louder and louder…
    …and my objections sounded more and more pathetic.
    “No God, I can’t do that. I’m settled in my community, love my firefighters, get recognition in my career, and already serve at my church.”
    “Yes, my child. I get it. Now, could you place your feet on the floor for me?
     Over and over vox Dei in igne (“the voice of God in fire”) compassionately ignored the objections, and I heard his call by means of engine and rescue crews being “the hand and feet of God” and also his voice as well. If I really wanted to avoid God’s voice, I could have done so more effectively by avoiding God’s work altogether; but that was never possible because I love the church and particularly love firefighters. Those in the fire service have the endearing quality of often being oblivious to how much they are used of God to answer the prayers of the desperate. It’s “Incarnational” in the sense that when someone asks “it is the work of God or the work of the FD crew?” the correct answer is “Yes, of course.” It is different, however, in that Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Word, was always very aware of what he was doing.
    
     Objections overcome, call answered, obediently enroute to the scene, and my fire department is, in no small way, the reason for it. My advice? Stay away from the work of God if you want to avoid “the voice of God,” because he could very well be overcoming your objections by means of people unaware they’re strapping you onto the stretcher. 
    

Caregivers of the Dead

     A short while ago, I responded (with my FD crew) to one of the more gruesome motor vehicle fatalities I’ve seen so far in my time as a fire department chaplain. Sure I’ve seen dead bodies before, but not so many that I’ve “gotten used to it.” This one stuck with me for several reasons, mostly due to the time it took to free the victim from the vehicle. Three hours is a long time to stand around in the Florida heat while a deceased human is slowly extricated from an overturned van.    

     Such times can test your internal constitution, and reveal your capacity to stay focused on the job you need to perform. For me as a chaplain, my job has many layers, most of which are intangible. There can be specific functions to the role, but most often my job is to be randomly encouraging with reassuring smiles, human contact, and what is called “the ministry of presence.” So being “present” for my Seminole County fire crew, the Seminole County Sheriff’s deputies and Florida Highway Patrolmen on scene was really what was on my mind.

     That changed, though, when another team arrived on the scene with whom I had not interacted before: the medical examiner and coroner. I was struck by the meticulous detail the M.E. had to document concerning the entire scene, the apparent cause of death, and even the body itself. Photographs were taken from every angle so as to preserve each view of the vehicle and the deceased. Her singular focus was that of capturing every relevant detail so that the story of the victim’s death could accurately be told. Who would later need that story to be told correctly? The victim’s family? Law enforcement? A jury? The M.E. carries a tremendous responsibility reporting to the living how a soul left this Earth; a story that will have a far-reaching impact, and that will endure through all the generations of the victim’s progeny.

     Another “caregiver of the dead” that gave me pause, however, was the man from the coroner’s office whose role was to transport the deceased away. I imagine that such a profession could become taxing. It’s never your job to transport the living or be involved in their rescue. No…all of your “clients” are dead. Your passengers, whether meeting their demise in peaceful or violent fashion, calmly or through much suffering, all have the same state of lifelessness. These keepers of the dead bear a burden which most are uncomfortable discussing. In film (especially westerns) they are portrayed as macabre characters all clad in black, randomly approaching the stranger in town with a tape measure so as to get a head start on building their coffin. They’re never featured as the happy individual with a normal family, a burgeoning romance, and a network of friends they meet down at the pub. We don’t like thinking about the dead, so we imagine their caregivers as someone we’d rather not be. This is very unfortunate.

     I must confess that I, myself, have been guilty of the above misconception before…that is until this encounter. As I observed the gentle care and attention to dignity shown for the dead by this man, I felt myself developing an entirely different view. With great personal alarm I realized how under-appreciated he has been, and others like him with the same job. My great hope is that I was able to be of some encouragement to him on the spot, for it was in the flashing minutes of standing there in the middle of the road that the epiphany of his necessity struck me. Flooding my mind was all the Biblical references to his role that I had read before, and the great need for his role across cultures.

     To some it might have seemed odd that I wanted to help him carry the body to his vehicle, but to me it had suddenly become a great privilege to assist him in any way. Overwhelmed with this new revelation, I wrote the following Prayer for the Coroner (shown below):

Our Father in heaven…

Who gave to our forefather, Joseph,
    faithful brothers that would carry his body
    to his final resting place in the Promised Land;
Who inspired women to care for the body of our Lord
    before He rose from the dead,
Grant, we ask, your Grace upon those that,
    with gentle care and respect for the departed,
    transport the earthly remains of those that have died
    as such souls leave for their heavenly journey.
Comfort those who must examine and report
    on the remains of people now gone
    in order to tell the story of their passing,
    that the living will know the truth how the deceased left this world.
By Your Spirit, remind these workers of respect for the dead
    of the great importance of their profession,
    and fill them with assurance that their example
    inspires the respect and reverence of others as well.
These things we ask on account of Him who first revealed his Resurrection
    to those who came to care for his body, Jesus Christ our Lord.       

Amen.

    Hopefully we all are able to better appreciate what these people do for us. When the dead leave us behind, our mourning process is facilitated by a chain of dedicated individuals that must care for our deceased loved one along the way; from the M.E. and coroner, to the funeral staff and even those that carry out what is done with remains (burial digging, cremation technician, etc.). Care for the dead is one of those bedrock practices that makes us human, separating us from animals and revealing culture in the archaeological record. Let us show our appreciation for these “caregivers of the dead” and consider the great calling they carry for our benefit.

The Theology of a Cadaver?

In my capacity as a Chaplain for the Seminole County Fire Department, it’s often a privilege to be present when personnel are training, honing the skills they need for any given call and emergency. Such training can include everything from hose and hydrant drills to high angle rescue, to medic emergency procedures. For paramedic practices, various dummies have been manufactured to help train personnel for protocols in CPR and airway intubation, and everything in between. These synthetic dummies, however, cannot replace the value of practice on the “real thing”: the human body.

This presents a challenge for designing training. How much of that can be practiced on a live volunteer? People might willingly be dragged across smooth floor, lifted into a rescue basket, or have their “broken” leg splinted, but they won’t agree to be intubated (airway tube), shocked (AED) or have someone practice drilling into their bones. For those later exercises, willing people have willed that their bodies be donated to science; and for purposes of the medic training, that resulted in the “Cadaver Lab.”

As chaplain, such moments make me question just how much of the fire department’s training do I really want to attend. On the surface, it seemed unwise, but brave the Cadaver Lab I did, and I’m now grateful to have been included. What’s more? I think that such training resources like the Cadaver Lab need to be incorporated into a theology of the body that permeates Christianity.

I’d like to offer a different take on the concept taught among Christians that comes from the book of 1st Corinthians. “Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price. Therefore glorify God with your body” (1 Cor. 6:19-20, NET). The context of this statement was the Apostle Paul’s admonition for the reader to abstain from sexual immorality, arguing that there’s no such thing as a “victimless crime;” that sexual sins violate the mandate of your design, and the intent of your body’s rightful owner…God.

This concept of the body as “God’s temple” has, in some circles, been expanded to prohibit other vices indulged with the body as well (i.e. gluttony, drunkenness, and some have gone on to apply to it smoking as well). In any event, the “body as God’s temple” concept has been applied to encourage abstinence; abstaining from sexual sins or any other vice that debases one’s own body from its intended dignity and purpose. This is a good and right message, and one sorely needed in a culture that indulges every appetite and whim.

The discipline of abstaining, however, is only half the message. Studying the spiritual disciplines intended for Lent (the penitential season that precedes Easter in the Christian calendar) will lead you to authors such as Richard Foster and Dallas Willard, who have written about both the abstaining AND engaging disciplines. Abstaining disciplines offer categories of things to DON’T do, while engaging disciplines point toward things to DO. On the one hand, examples of abstaining disciplines are things like fasting, silence, solitude, and frugality. On the other hand, examples of engaging disciplines include things like generosity, fellowship, or study. Some will think that this is a stretch, but I think the complementary categories of abstaining and engaging disciplines also can be applied to the “body as God’s temple” concept.

If there are things to NOT do with “God’s temple,” surely there are things to DO with God’s temple as well. This seems to me an important teaching that, while lacking a clear Bible verse as its referent, permeates the Christian notion of service. The manner in which you serve the purposes of God are all done in the body. In other words, every way you serve God you do so with “God’s temple.” When you show appropriate affection to a loved one, you assure them of their value using “God’s temple.” When you carry a heavy load for someone moving boxes, you serve them with “God’s temple.” Likewise, when you give blood in times of need, you offer life-giving assistance using “God’s temple.”

Imagine offering, in your last will and testament, “God’s temple” for the furtherance of life-saving knowledge for firefighters, paramedics and nurses in training. That is what these people did who gave their bodies for the Cadaver Lab. The instructor took a moment of silence at the beginning of the class to honor those that had donated their bodies for the lab, which I found to be an appropriate and fitting homage. It seemed to me, though, that a Christian perspective can go even further.

As with an organ donor, upon death the body is donated to give life. As for things to DO with “God’s temple” (as opposed to things NOT to do), I can think of few more praiseworthy uses for “God’s temple.” Were any of the people, whose body helped to teach medic procedures, Christians? I have no idea, and it holds no bearing on the nobility of their choice. I do think, however, that Christians, having been taught the “body as God’s temple” concept, should be particularly open to such final acts of service. As one’s final choice with what to do with their body, surely advancing knowledge and giving life should be high on the list of things to do with “the temple of the Holy Spirit.”

Saipan, COVID and the Power of Fear

 

 

In July of 1944, the Battle of Saipan was drawing to a close with the imminent Japanese defeat becoming increasingly obvious to both the Imperial Japanese military and the civilian Japanese population of the island. As US forces drew near, hundreds of panicked Japanese civilians committed suicide by jumping off the cliffs near the northern tip of Saipan. To the US Marines present at the time, the sight of this was mystifying. They watched in horror as mothers and their children leapt to their deaths rather than be captured and subjected to the nightmares that the conquering soldiers might inflict upon them. One mother who had thrown her own child over the cliffs to “save him” from the supposed torments to come, would later mourn her decision after a US soldier stopped her from jumping and escorted her to an aid station where she was cared for, much to both her shock and subsequent shame.

Why the civilian suicides? History has spoken often and loudly of the “kamikaze” spirit of Japanese soldiers, sailors and pilots who would rather die than suffer the shame of defeat. In some instances, this resolve has been even revered for its show of total commitment. The civilian suicides off the cliffs above Marpi Point Field, however, were a shocking mystery until historians pieced together how much they had been influenced by Japanese propaganda regarding the “bloodthirsty” and amoral “barbarians” the US soldiers supposedly were. Japanese propaganda had convinced these civilian mothers and fathers they would be tortured and their children likely eaten by the advancing US forces. In light of this, their actions, albeit shocking, make a little more sense. They simply were gripped with that much fear.

Fear is powerful motivator that can supersede many other cognitive faculties. It’s like an “airborne virus” that can sweep across a landscape and produce unimaginable behaviors among people seemingly reasonable and lucid the rest of the time. Fear is not an entirely unproductive emotion. There are many self-preserving benefits to reacting with caution or alarm to actual dangers. Fear of perceived dangers, however, can often produce behaviors far worse in their outcome than what was, in reality, lurking to pounce (i.e. the suicide cliffs vs the US forces aid station). The art and science is in distinguishing actual dangers from seemingly scary aberrations.

While people are fully capable of conjuring unreasonable fears on their own, a little propaganda to help it along certainly can be effective. Messaging from authority figures, especially in the case of the Japanese where the Emperor cult creates a culture of absolute authority, is where propaganda gets the best results. Propaganda effectiveness varies across cultures depending on the relationship of the populace to the power structures. In Imperial Japan, it would have been a strong connection, as well as in Nazi Germany. In the Allied west, propaganda still existed and was effective, but not used with the same destructive ends. No nation is exempt from the use of propaganda though. As much as the West would like to declare itself exempt, we’re not. It just falls to us to be vigilant about its nature, messaging and the ends that it promotes.

COVID has revealed that much of the western world has, in its luxurious complacency, abandoned the ability to navigate the difference between actual dangers and alarming “jump scares.” In our avarice and luxury (not evils in an of themselves) we so lowered the bar of acceptable risk, that anything less than immortality became an existential threat. As result, fear of a virus with an originally extremely low mortality rate, that weakens with each new variant, still is able to incite fear and indefensible behaviors among the fearful. As I travel the streets of my town, I still see many individuals wearing a mask outside far and away from the nearest structure or any other people. While my first instinct is to declare them morons, there’s also a side of me that retains some compassion for them. They are truly gripped with fear.

It is also out of what compassion I have for them that I’m angered at the purveyors of propaganda. There are many. In the US, there are both official and unofficial sources of this since we do not have an officially “State-run” media; and the coordination of some media outlets with the apparatus of the State makes me wonder how “unofficial” they actually are. Sources published in substack.com or in scientific journals concerning masks and “vaccine” effectiveness reveal that the ones screaming “follow the science” have, themselves, abandoned science altogether. The State utility of this anti-science messaging keeps alive the legacy of Trofim Lysenko. Nevertheless, the propaganda is rampant concerning COVID-19 and its subsequent variants, producing citizens moved with fear into behaviors that they cannot even stop to self-evaluate. Fearful of horrific unknowns, they step off the cliff like terrified “lemmings” wearing a comforting talisman to their face, hoping to be protected from the unseen dangers in their air as they plummet to the watery rocks below. It is out of hatred for these outcomes, and the destruction it rains upon the beloved uninformed, that the appropriate response is…

No quarter. No compromise. No civil dialogue. The propagandists have preyed upon the civility of the skeptical citizenry to advance messages promoting the downfall of our neighbors, friends and family. No more. We must make those uncomfortable who are otherwise willing to jump off the cliff because “Hirohito wills it.” Eventually, one discovers it is not loving to be silent and “polite” to those approaching the cliff. Indeed the propaganda may say that the dangers are horrifying and primordial, but many areas of western society (such as Florida and other states) have revealed the “US aid station” just away from the battle lines. The “dangers” are not real, at least not nearly to the degree you’ve been told. Resistance is loving…and we must must love our neighbor as ourselves in this time.

Without Wind, There is No Flight

Come Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove,     

    With all thy quick'ning powers; 

Kindle a flame of sacred love 

    In these cold hearts of ours. 

See how we trifle here below, 

    Fond of these earthly toys: 

Our souls, how heavily they go, 

    To reach eternal joys. 

In vain we tune our formal songs, 

    In vain we strive to rise: 

Hosannas languish on our tongues, 

    And our devotion dies. 

Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove, 

    With all thy quick'ning powers; 

Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love, 

    And that shall kindle ours.    Amen. 

Hymn# 369: Hymnal 1940 

    One of the more interesting things I learned from getting a drone pilot's license was having to know how actual aircraft work. To pass the exam to achieve a commercial license to operate an small Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (UAV), you had to learn about much that normal pilots of manned aircraft have to know. Details such as weather patterns, navigation, and airspace regulations (particularly important) were among the required knowledge, but so was something seemingly less applicable to small droves: airspeed. 

    Fixed-wing aircraft achieve flight because air passes over and under their wings at such a speed to produce lift. The airspeed is the speed with which the air is flowing over and under the wings and doesn't correspond directly to ground speed. An aircraft with a headwind might have an airspeed that is significantly greater than how fast they are traveling from point A to point B. For this reason, a strong tailwind can undermine the aircraft's ability to even stay in the air. A phenomenon known as "wind sheer" can abruptly reduce the aircraft's airspeed, causing it to stall and fall out of the sky. Airspeed, not ground speed, is what enables the aircraft to take off from the ground and stay in the air once it's up. 

    Without airspeed, the aircraft is not an aircraft at all. It's instead (at best) a rather awkward and inefficient vehicle for driving (taxiing) from one end of the airport to another, or (at worst) a harmful object falling out of the sky. It's certainly not able to operate as designed: as an aircraft. 

    Such is the case for the Christian, who can be likened to an aircraft. The Christian has a design, a purpose, and function in the world, and requires the enablement of "wind" in order to achieve that function. Now many sermons have been given before about the "wind" that blew through the room where the Apostle's were gathered together in Acts 2:2. These are often a bit awkward since the texts says "Suddenly a sound like a violent wind blowing came from heaven and filled the entire house where they were sitting" (NET). Nevertheless, while Acts 2 emphasizes the "sound" of a mighty wind, rather than the wind itself, other passages associate the Spirit of God with a "wind" that passes over the primordial Creation (Gen 1:2), or that is "breathed out" by Christ onto his disciples (John 20:22). Such is the association of the Spirit of God with "breath" and "wind" that we categorize our study of the Doctrine of the Holy Spirit as "Pneumatology." (pneuma = Greek for "breath" or "spirit"). 

    So the analogy of wind to describe the movement of the Spirit of God is not only reasonable, but frequent in the Scriptures. For this reason, this last Sunday as we sang Hymn #369 for the Pentecost, it occurred to me that Isaac Watts was describing the operation of an aircraft. Without the airspeed provided by the Divine "wind," the aircraft (worshipper/Christian) doesn't get off the ground at all. The two center verses describe with glaring theological accuracy the complete inability to worship as we ought to, function as we must, or accomplish anything for which we are designed without the enablement of the Holy Spirit. Such is our dependency on His "airspeed" passing over our wings. 

    I once had a young man tell me, "It's hard to be a Christian," to which I corrected him, "Well, the further you get, you realize it's actually impossible. We're totally reliant on the enabling of the Holy Spirit to fulfill the most basic parts of our design." I may have sounded insightful at the time, but such truths can be easily forgotten, and I, myself, need reminders like Hymn #369 to put things back into perspective; especially on days such as Pentecost, when we remember that Christ did not leave us comfortless, but instead sent to us a Helper, an Advocate, and Comforter to provide the "airspeed" needed to fly as we must in His service. 

On The Power of Myth and How DC Films get it Wrong

     Modern film serves an important role in culture, and older generations that fail to recognize it are doomed to either do it wrong, or misunderstand its power altogether. As they display the stories of a culture on the big screen, they undertake, through an audio/visual medium, to tell tales that have a history stretching back into the ancient world that fall into three distinct, yet overlapping categories: stories about (1) gods, (2) demigods, and (3) mortals. These tales often spill into each other, but will have emphases that spotlight very different needs of the people that spin those yarns. Let's briefly discuss below what each does for us.

Stories about the gods: From the Enuma Elish of ancient Mesopotamia to the Greek legends of Olympus, stories about the gods and the heavenly realm have helped humankind to organize the world in our mind. The inexplicable is made relatable by means of attaching it to the diversity of deities given expression on those epic sagas. Why does the thunder and lightning appear so violent in the sky? How did the diversity of creation first come to be? Who oversees the chaos that is the vast mysteries of the oceans? Why does the natural order sometimes get out of whack, resulting in natural disasters with which the mortals must contend? The "old world" had its share of the deity tales, but so did the "new world" also. Aztec, Maya, Mixtec, Inca cultures all had the myths and stories of the gods that helped explain why creation operates how it does, and what obligations humans have to those deities because of it. Stories of the gods are not designed to make them relatable characters. Audiences do not gain inspiration from them to better themselves. Instead, they receive information and instruction on the nature of the gods, and their spheres of responsibility, in story form. The ancient world did not seek to write propositional doctrines and systematic theologies as began in the West during the medieval period. Instead they taught of the gods (their nature, their power and their behavior) by means of creation and clash mythologies.

Stories about demigods: While mortals and gods may be completely separate categories, so that mortals have no need to find the gods relatable or even interesting, the middle area is needed that would inspire humans to reach beyond the mere drudgery of everyday life. After all, credible histories could account for heroic feats among the ranks of men (and in some cases women) that far exceeded the abilities and accomplishments of the average person. Even actual history can be mythologized over time, exaggerating the deeds of heroes to keep them awe-inducing for subsequent generations. Thus, the tale undergoes subtle revisions to eventually make them a child of the gods, or a product of deity/human union. In the ancient world, these become not just examples of divinely enhanced human potential, but also can serve as lessons for teaching ideal human behavior. The self-sacrificing hero battles the forces of the netherworld, or some monstrous aberration, for the win... and their story is told to inspire the hearers to comparable deeds. This, or they serve as a morality tale to instruct on what virtues the gods find praiseworthy, rewarding the hero with victory because of their own journey of character. The hero is superhuman, but relatable to the human experience, opening up a wealth of applicability for the audience.

Stories about mortals: Human life, with all of its peaks and valleys, drama and drudgery, has always provided rich material from which to glean lessons for wise living. Relationships of all types, struggles and celebration, adversity and elation, are rightly dramatized into tales with which the audience can empathize and emote, gaining wisdom and practical knowledge for enjoying life to the full. The documentary, the comedy, the crime drama, the romance tale (sometimes called a "chick flick"), all have their place in that repository of human stories that the audience, in exploring the themes and imbibing the sentiments along with the storyteller, actually become more "human." The varied recesses of the human soul are exercised and quickened by considering how the story illuminates the nuances of relationships, the diversity of human experience, the joys of laughter or the messiness of justice. We need stories that often expose or remind us how the world really is, and not just trafficking in how we'd like it to be.

     Along a literary spectrum, it could be said that the gods are fully "two dimensional characters"(lacking struggle, development or growth through a lesson journey) with the mortals being fully "three dimensional" (relatable to the audience in areas of human experience). This would place demigods somewhere in between, with considerable overlap. The short version is: gods are boring, people are interesting. So if you're going to tell a tale of superhuman heroes, it's necessary to "humanize" them considerably so that they can be analogous for or inspiring to the human audience. Demigods that lack development through lessons, romance, tragedy or joy, or lack the humor found in human relations, slide precipitously toward the genre of "gods" mythology. This is as much a detriment to the demigod category as if it were to lack superhuman ability and thus become just another mortal tale. In a sense, the demigod story is a balancing act in which the storyteller keeps the superhuman nature and the mortal nuances in a delicate tension. If we don't believe the hero was in love, we don't care that he saved the girl AND the world too for that matter.

     Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is the latest installment in the new DC films cinematic depiction of their comic book repertoire. It builds upon the groundwork laid in 2013 by the reboot of the Superman franchise, Man of Steel. According to Rotten Tomatoes, a movie/television review aggregate web site, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice has received a current score of 29% out of a possible 100, with audience reaction being tepid at best. Opening weekend, predictably, found DOJ (Dawn of Justice) making considerable money because of the hype and subject matter. However, audience reaction can often be responsibly gauged by repeat viewings. For DOJ, second weekend grosses had dropped dramatically. Reports of second weekend declines are commonplace, but movie news articles add that a 68% drop for the second weekend is quite extreme. Being a lover of films, my daughter and I saw it opening night as well, and later shared critiques that ranged from objective evaluations to inside jokes that only we understand. To date, we appear in in the majority of viewers that found it an adequate spectacle to witness at a theater, but not remotely worthy of its hype, and unworthy of money spent on repeat visits.

     As an anthropologist, I am quite curious as to what explains this phenomenon beyond the mere nuts and bolts of good film-making. Lessor skilled directors have been able to grasp the sentiments of audiences and conjure them back to ride that ride over and over again. What makes DOJ different and less able to connect with moviegoers? Incidentally, among the more pointed critiques leveled at "Man of Steel" in 2013 was that it "was not inspiring." This has not been true of all DC movies. On the contrary, the Dark Knight trilogy (started with Batman Begins in 2005) directed by Christopher Nolan, enjoyed tremendous success, and appears to have been as much a watershed breakthrough for comic book hero films as was the 1978 blockbuster Superman with Christopher Reeve. In addition, audiences appear well conditioned to receive these fantastical tales and enjoy them repeatedly (rf. the current Marvel comic universe, beginning with Iron Man in 2008, has enjoyed positive response from critics and audiences alike). The Marvel success stands in stark contrast to the DC films in those two areas; critics have praised them and audiences have affirmed them by spending dollars on repeat visits to the theater. I believe this is explainable through the lens of the role for ancient stories described above.

     Societies and technology may change, but people don't. Many of the basic human needs in the ancient world still are plainly evident in the modern day; with this exception though: audiences today are even less interested in stories of the gods than in ancient times. To keep the modern (and especially postmodern) audience engaged for a superhuman story, you must go easy on the "super" and heavy on the "human." The powers must be incidental to the struggle, with emphasis on the seemingly "mortal" experiences of romance, remorse, joy, laughter, wit, wisdom, multiplicity of motives, etc. Without it, people may show up once to watch the "gods do battle," but be quite satisfied to have taken in the data it conveyed, with no need to return and experience it again. What's more? They'll share that "data" with friends, essentially negating the need for those friends to go see the film and get that data themselves. The characters are not "heroes" that we empathize with or are inspired by. They are deities that held their apocalyptic conflict, and that explains why we have the occasional geologic phenomenon of destroyed cities.

     It's not that Zack Snyder, the director of Man of Steel, DOJ and upcoming Justice League movies, isn't a skilled moviemaker. On the contrary, he's demonstrated considerable prowess in the past. It's just that he (and DC studios) has adopted a storytelling strategy that falls mostly in the first of our categories listed above. They're not attempting to tell a relatable story from which mortals should glean inspiration for achievements or analogies for life lessons. They're essentially sitting around the campfire, like old fellows wrapped in a thick cloak to protect from the night breeze, and regaling us with the myths of the ancient Greek gods, and how their conflicts resulted in the natural world we experience today (coincidentally, Snyder directed the film 300, which was a decidedly mortal tale, stylized to appear more like a deity story also).

     Comic book hero films cannot fit within the realm of mortal stories. They are not meant to reside in the ordinary, mundane aspects of everyday experience. This leaves two categories remaining they can fall under: stories of the gods or demigods. DC appears to be choosing the former, and Marvel the latter. This is ironic because before their cinematic manifestations, comic enthusiasts recognized that DC enjoyed greater readership than Marvel for the exact same reasons, only reversed. In this way, Nolan's success with the Dark Knight trilogy was attributed to being "so true to the comics." The DC comics were demigod stories (heavy on the human, easy on the super), with Marvel comic heroes pushing the limits of fantastical. Now the roles appear to have switched. Marvel seems to have understood the above analysis and is cashing in on it, but DC will continue to suffer mediocre results if they do not.

     I, for one, have likened the contrast to two roller coasters at a theme park. One is loud, shaky and exhausting; the other is thrilling, joyful and exciting. After getting off the second one, you look to see if the line is very long, and if not, exclaim "Let's do it again!" But after exiting the other one, you wiped your brow and sighed "Whew, I'm glad that's over." I believe stories are important. They are not mere movies, and not merely comic book heroes. These are tales from which we, as humans being, are supposed to glean inspiration for achievement and analogies to unravel the enigmas of our mortal experience. Storytellers, as writers of novels or directors of films, are custodians of those stories, and are to convey them in a manner from which the audience will derive the greatest benefit. It's too bad DC has decided to tell campfire stories of the gods. The relatable demigods on the screen are turning me into a Marvel guy.

Houston Spartan Race SPRINT Review

     Imagine my surprise when, following past race reviews, others would be sought by my peers. Obstacle Course Racing (OCR) has been a passion of mine since first discovering it in 2012. That was the year that my yearnings for athletic activities looked beyond the normal local 5K race for charity, and sought to interject a sense of adventure. A banner ad at the time intrigued me, which included a self-playing video clip of OCR legend Hobie Call jumping over fire, followed by the caption "Could a race change your life?" That was enough. I was instantly hooked as a "Spartan" and didn't even realize it. Spartan Race quickly became the go-to focus of a family wanting to increase our list of camaraderie and character building activities. We volunteered at the BEAST in Glen Rose, TX that year so as to earn our race registration for the following May where a SPRINT would be held in Burnet, TX. Our first exposure to Spartan Race was as volunteers, only later to actually run the course and fully understand how appropriate our passion had been. 

     That first race also introduced us to the larger world of OCR, the culture, personalities and ethos of it. In 2014-2015 we had opportunities to participate in several OCRs other than Spartan Race. I will tell you that our experiences with those OCR companies have left me quite content to simply fill my race calendar with Spartan races, unmotivated to attempt fitting others in. Either those others were in some way quite disappointing, or merely not spectacular enough to attempt fitting them in around the SRs that I already know I'll want to do. If it seems that my reviews are not entirely objective, at least I've disclosed my rationale. 

My race evaluation has come to include five categories of significance to me. The list is, of course, open to expansion, but these have been key areas according to my experience. The list described below is pasted from an earlier review: 

"Our evaluation score is based upon five categories or experience that we comment on to each other as we work as volunteers, run as racers together, and then later debrief about after the event. These five categories are:

• Staff - Were the event staff friendly, professional and patient? Were they accommodating of needs for water, food or bathroom breaks? Did they make an effort to help us volunteer together? At registration, were they warm, welcoming and organized?

• Logistics -  Did the event seem organized and well thought-out? Were sufficient materials brought to meet the attendance demand? How well were staff supplied with materials to perform their tasks (shirts, medals, radios, water, etc.)?

• Obstacles - Were they well-constructed? Did they offer an athletic challenge? Did they need explanation or were they self-explanatory? Was there a penalty for failing the obstacle? Was it also safe while being difficult?

• Trail - Was the course designed for a decent trail run? Did the outside venue (ranch, field, stadium, etc.) allow for the run itself to be part of the challenge with topographic variety (hills, canyons and plains)? 

• Festival area - Was the atmosphere electric and exciting? Were examples of obstacles constructed for contests and practice? Were exhibits, vendors, restrooms, showers, start and finish lines laid out in a sensible way? Were start and finish line experiences exciting and satisfying

On each of the above categories we offer 0-20 points, resulting in an accumulated score out of 100 points (making a letter grade easy to calculate)."

     For the Houston Spartan Race SPRINT, we volunteered in the morning and raced in the afternoon after having been relieved of our duties at the end of our shift. This has largely been our repeated custom from the beginning. The result has been that at any given OCR, we get the perspective of a worker for the event before we are a participant. For the Houston Spartan SPRINT, I score each category below:

Staff - While I've yet to have a negative experience with Spartan Race staff, some races stand out more than others in terms of staff care. For the Houston SPRINT, not only were they their usual professional, gracious and helpful selves, but they did so in the face of unexpectedly challenging conditions. For several days before the race, heavy rains had soaked the race venue, leaving the planned parking area unworkable. Thus at the last minute, a new location was selected, and school buses were contracted to shuttle racers from the new site to the festival area. These logistical obstacles faced the staff mere hours before race day, yet not a single attitude was out of sorts as droves of participants and volunteers showed up late because of the changes they also were having to adjust to as well. Volunteer registration was relatively smooth despite the changes that had been foisted open the process. 

     I'll admit to being at somewhat of an advantage for having volunteered so often that, without much direction, those with me and I were able to march purposefully to our assigned area and begin working, meeting our staff contact at the finish line, without any other assistance. At the finish line, our staff contact moved about regularly to make sure people drank water, had the necessary snacks, and felt freedom to check out other areas when heavy waves of finishers weren't keeping us busy. When our volunteer shift came to a close, the staff member did not need to be reminded to relieve us. They were on top of it, and we were released with plenty of time to prepare for our own race. Staff Score: 20 points

Logistics - As was mentioned above, heavy rains had required a last minute, major shift in racer/volunteer entrance to the venue. Spartan Race sent out an email alerting of the change, and out party was able to adjust accordingly. We parked where instructed. The school buses that had been procured were not on scene at the announced time though, allowing some lag time for a considerable crowd of people waiting at the new parking location. Nevertheless, the buses did arrive in force and shuttle services remained steady after that. To describe the race venue (Lazy W Ranch in Hempstead, TX) as "muddy" from all the rain is an exercise in understatement. In many respects, this was an enhancement, but that will be described later. In terms of working the race, tables sank and threatened to topple supplies, with considerable ponds of standing water where venue traffic areas might have otherwise allowed people to congregate. 

     Photography continues to be an area where hiccups can arise. Because timing pads are sometimes situated distant from an auto-camera location, finding one's self in the repository of action shots can be challenging. Finding photos actually tagged to your timing chip is hit-or-miss. I found all of mine, and those my companions, by scrolling through every single picture time-stamped between our start and finish times. Another trade arises in the presence and skill of photographers. Without them, auto-cameras (such as GoPro), do not know to turn and snap a shot of each racer in a pack of friends. Thus actions shots are missing for some racers when a herd of muddy participants stampede across the timing pad or by the GoPro station. I understand its a trade though, for hiring more photographers costs money, and some find registration costs already eyebrow-raising. However, concerning photographers, it often appears that photographers that are hired have a time limit themselves. More abundant, and more detailed pictures can be found for racers earlier in the day. This is not merely for elite racers; open heats starting before noon have a greater collection of action shots than those starting later (oh say, in a volunteer's heat). The photographers leave before all racers have passed their area. This is just my perception. Logistics Score: 17 points

Obstacles - By far the greatest obstacle of this race was the mud. In this way, the open heat racers can boast a greater toughness and grit than any of the elites that finished this SPRINT in less than an hour. Yes, the elite racers had some mud and water with which to contend, but they certainly did NOT struggle against 4.2 miles of earthen purgatory affixing itself to one's body like an animated horde of demons from the mythic underworld. The barely viscous and unholy sludge ranged from ankle to waist deep for most of the course. This would be exhausting enough, but it also made each obstacle 143% more difficult. I have never struggled to get over 8ft walls before (with the exception of the BEAST in Glen Rose last Oct which had similar ground conditions), but in this case the ground would simply not release my feet. Teamwork was an absolute requirement. The teams might have been pre-planned by friends racing together, or the team may have been spontaneous as Spartans stopped to assist one another, but only teams could overcome these walls once the ground began to deny any jumping whatsoever. 

    The mud enhanced some obstacles to make them more of a challenge than ever before. In previous races, nailing the spear throw was aided by taking a few steps for momentum. The mud disallowed that. Fortunately, I still got it, but it required a different throwing strategy and the collection of burpee penitents nearby was greater than normal. Sand bag carry, gravel buckets, and the atlas carry all were transformed into something far more epic and daunting. There were no particularly noteworthy obstacles that differed form what has become standard for Spartan Races. There's a comfort in knowing that I've become familiar with these varying tests of skill, strength and endurance. Without the mud though, this might have been a rather unremarkable event (within the normal range of Spartan Race; which is itself excellent, challenging and fun). For my part, I failed at just one obstacle. At the end, the multi-rig assembly of bars, rings and ropes created a large burpee corral that needed wide expansion after racers began bunching up there. The multi-rig continues to be the "Bane" of my existence; and I WILL conquer it! Perhaps if it was near the front, like the monkey bars were, but instead it was at the end, after the mud demons has sapped all of the energy away. The obstacles were within normal range, not particularly creative; however, they do get a boost from the mud enhancement.  Obstacles Score: 18 points

Trail - Even more so than the obstacles, the trail benefitted from the advent of the apocalyptic mud in our score. Without it, the course would have been topographically underwhelming. I'm simply not used to a Spartan Race lacking any hills. Previous SRs for me have been in either the Texas hill country or the Sierra-Nevada near Lake Tahoe. I'm used to shouting my "AROO!" as a means of encouraging others trudging up a woeful incline, or in denial about my own exhaustion. This course's trail contained no such elevation changes. Were I among the elite racers, I might have been wondered what all the fuss was about, but after it had been pulverized by several thousand racers into moon dust (just add water!), the trail became a living thing bent on resisting your progress. Don't miss understand! The trail was beautiful, the ranch picturesque in many places and the water obstacles a joy, but the mud adds approximately 5 points to the overall level of satisfying difficultly, which Spartan Race could not have anticipated...Unless of course we include God among the Spartan staff performing course design. Trail Score: 18 points

Festival Area - As with the rest of the course, the mud was the star of the show. Imagine a rodeo arena being doused with six inches of water, then thoroughly tenderized with horses and cattle, then add some low depressions that fill up to create inconvenient lakes. None of this was the fault of Spartan Race, however it created a complete lack of anywhere to set your gear down or rest in the festival area. Seating has always been at a premium at OCRs of all types, but this was exceptional. A couple more hay bales here and there might have helped, or perhaps some plywood laid down for major foot traffic routes. Admittedly, those are my "armchair" suggestions, not fully appreciating what goes into those tasks. But enough about the mud already!

     The layout of the festival area was well planned. "Spartan Rigs" had practice obstacles for warming up or even competing for a free future race. All the booths and merchandising were well placed. There were adequate restrooms, and I experienced no lines or gross lack of maintenance for them. At other races, the "showers" (water pumped through hoses and nozzles) have suffered from intermittent pump operation, sometimes losing water pressure or stopping altogether; not so here. The equipment was well attended and no hiccups occurred. The D.J. kept the music upbeat and constant, and even made the announcement at one point that a dog had been left in a car and law enforcement was about to break into the car if the owner didn't see to it soon. Staff were ubiquitous and helpful in the festival area. It just took 10 minutes to walk from one end to the other because of the mud. 

     The announcing was adequate, but unremarkable. Previous announcers have created such an air of electricity and excitement at the starting line that you truly felt immersed in the adventure you were about to begin. I understand that some up and coming announcers need to be given a chance to really get into their groove, but there's a certain amount of talent for it that comes into play also. With examples like Dustin Dorough of Spartan Race, or Dewayne Anderson of Battle Frog Series, having raised the bar so high, OCRs do well to keep announcing as something they look to maintain high standards for in talent, excitement, charisma and delivery. Some have even suggested this deserves it's own category in OCR reviews. I'm not sure of that. For now I'll leave it as part of festival because start/finish line experiences are part of it. 

     To balance that out...finish line experience doesn't have announcing; it has fire. The fire jump is the last obstacle to overcome (it used to be gladiators in SR's early days) before the finish line. It contributes most to the excitement before getting the medal around your neck and completing the day's epic struggle. Note to Spartan Race: PLEASE don't let the fire die down! Depending on how often the staff stoked the fire jump, some racers leapt over glorious, Michael Bay sized flames, while others just had to skip over some smoldering coals. This affects both the excitement of the finish and the brag-worthy photos people want to make their Facebook profile pic later on as well. Festival Score: 17

     With an overall score of 90, this places the Houston Spartan Race SPRINT in the A-/B+ range, depending on how you divide the letter grades. I try to be objective, but admittedly Spartan Race is also like "family" after a fashion, and it's tough to critique "family." Nevertheless, because I'm so fond of Spartan Race, I'll share ways that possibly they could be even better. If you don't have that connection, you won't say anything; you'll just go somewhere else, claiming the "grass was greener" at the other race. Every Spartan Race is different, and I have no doubt that some of these challenges were unique to this venue and weather conditions. Having said all that, Spartan Race's strengths are very well executed, and I'm looking forward to many more. 

Mary as a "Church Growth" Model

As an Anglican Christian (or "British Orthodox" as my friend Johnny Simmons puts it), I maintain a position on certain matters firmly in the middle-ground of historic Church debate. Regarding the nature of the Sacraments, particularly the elements of communion, the Roman Catholics have asserted the "real presence" of Christ in them with Transubstantiation, while the Baptists have asserted the "real absence" of Christ from them with "memorialism." The Anglican position has been to declare them both falling victim to the folly of over-explaining what remains a mystery. Likewise, regarding authority in the Church, the RCC has over-emphasized papacy and church canons to a place arguably equal to the Holy Scriptures. On the other end, Baptist tradition has over-individualized the Faith by suggesting anyone owning a Bible is as authoritative as anyone else. The Anglican view is to see the Scriptures as supreme and uniquely authoritative, yet interpreted within the context of a faithful episcopate; a middle ground.

In addition, another "middle ground" taken by Anglican tradition is a view of Mary, the "theotokos" (the "God-bearer"), the mother of Jesus. From an Anglican view, the RCC takes the veneration of Mary to an unhealthy level, elevating her to co-redeemer, ongoingly influential with the Savior, worthy recipient of the prayers of the devout. The Baptist tradition however, at least in the American Evangelical strain, is to avoid her veneration at all. On the contrary, often Baptists will consciously avoid any hint of reverence regarding Mary because of fears it can appear "Catholic." The Anglican view does not suffer these fears though, for the Church of the 1st millennium venerated the memory and example of Mary without the imbalance that Rome would later fall into.

It is no small matter to remember the Saints like a tribal custom of venerating the ancestors. In fact, many cultures that revere their ancestors consider their lives and examples of such import as to see them as living concurrently with the living. Archaeologists frequently find burial of these ancestors below the floor of the house because the living wanted to keep the honored dead nearby. The Church knows much of this custom, with burial crypts often located under the floor of historic churches, or at least nearby in the courtyard. "Tribal Christianity" has been among those cultures keeping the ancestors of the Faith ("Saints") front of mind in this manner, and among those Saints few can be more relevant - apart from Christ himself - than Mary, the mother of Jesus. For this reason, her life is rightly examined for examples of how the Church is to operate; chief among them being "His mother told the servants, 'Whatever he tells you, do it'" (John 2:5), when she articulated the Church's timeless message to the world.

While there are many ways that Mary, the mother of Jesus, serves as an example to the Church and to believers everywhere, her life also offers a paradigm of "church growth" in the midst of a world full of corporate fads and business seminar models imposed upon the Bride of Christ. Since first entering Bible college over twenty years ago, I've spent my time since then in and around church ministry paying close attention to the trends and directions churches take in the ever-present pressure to grow their ministry, extend their influence and establish systematic methods for perpetual expansion. In other words, I've been an attentive student of the "church growth" models, paradigms and plans that have been fed churches of varying sizes, ages and demographics. Over these 20 years I've observed that most attempts to grow "a church" are based on corporate business models that, when applied to a church, rob it of essential characteristics of the Body (as described in New Testament texts, usually containing a "one another" phrase). Instead, churches grow most legitimately when they mirror the example of Mary. I'll offer a summary of this below and flesh it out after...

Mary was a young woman "betrothed" (sort of like "engaged" but more serious than our culture treats it) to Joseph. By all Gospel accounts she was a virgin, having engaged in no activity from which she could expect to become pregnant. Nevertheless, on a particular occasion an angel shows up and tells her - a faithful Jewish maiden - that due to no effort of hers, she's going to have a child - a son, to be specific. It seems God has caused new life to spontaneously grow within her, so that from her, no thanks to her, God's chief new work will be born. None of the cause is attributable to Mary, other than her faithfulness as a Jewish woman at the time. She had not prayed to get pregnant, as in the case of Hannah in 1 Samuel. She had not planned for it, for indeed the angel's announcement was a surprise. She had not worked toward it, for Matthew is specific that this was BEFORE she and Joseph "came together" (Matt 1:18). She's called "the virgin Mary" and Jesus is referred to as "born of a virgin" because this is well-establish tradition in Scripture.

Let us now consider the physiology of a young woman. When she becomes pregnant, she grows and expands. Her body swells and it is clear she is "with child," but this is for the specific purpose of growing an entire other person waiting to leave it in a few months. Can we be frank? When a woman grows and expands like that, and it is NOT because another person is soon to be born, we call that "getting fat." Mary was NOT about to expand and grow due to obesity. She WAS expanding and growing because from her would be born the Son of God, the Messiah, the unique work of God into the world, Emmanuel..."God with us." Mary's "growth" was not attributable to her activity, planning or preparation. It was all a work of God who had designated her from which to birth his Work.

Most "church growth" models are interested in growing "a church" more than "The Church." Lacking a strong Ecclesiology, they default to business paradigms most familiar to their Evangelical elder boards stacked with corporate middle-managers and executives. The marriage of north American Evangelicalism and a free-market economy is on full display when church consultants advise pastors to "structure for growth," develop your "5 to 10 year plan," consider locations and buildings as transient, develop strategic processes and "remain visionary." The advice typically resembles something similar to the following plan:

• examine the congregational makeup (demographics, distance, etc.)
• determine the congregational values (actual vs aspirational)
• formulate the congregational mission that will most likely affect ministry success
• articulate the congregational vision to be pursued into the future
• plan and execute the congregational strategy for realizing the vision by pursuing the mission

The congregational elders love it because it so resembles the process whereby their respective businesses have achieved success in the marketplace. The consultants love it because it appeals both to the church and corporate marketplaces. Because of the cross-pollenizing that naturally occurs between pastors and corporate peers, it appears a "win-win" all around (homage to Stephen Covey). Businesses do well following the principles outlined in advanced strategic planning, but do churches do just as well? Is all growth for a church positive when they strive for it as businesses do?

Remember, Mary was not planning to "grow," nor was she doing anything to cause it. It was an act of God. She was simply being faithful, and God decided the timing. If a church experiences spontaneous growth, due to no effort of its own, this may be Providential timing to expand "The Church" by starting a whole new Body. Otherwise, bodies are designed to be a certain size, and beyond that they are unhealthy. Most "church growth" models, by applying business growth paradigms to an organic entity are simply a "weight gain program" (as opposed to a weight loss program). Somehow, having a fat, sedentary, "expanding" body is a mark of success. In some societies this is actually the case. The fat chieftain's obesity is a sign of the abundance supposedly enjoyed by community. Is that the type of "body" that a church should really pursue?

Not to dive too deeply into a fitness analogy, but we know that when bodies become too obese they lose much of the abilities that a "normal body" is supposed to have in terms of running, jumping, climbing, digestion, health, circulation, etc. My experience has been that churches can grow too big, to expansive, too "obese" to perform those tasks that the New Testament describes for a local church body. Churches in the New Testament, particularly those to whom is addressed the Pauline epistles, are normal sized "bodies," fit and able to perform all the "one another" admonitions...having the "body" of a normal sized Galilean woman (a.k.a. Mary). If they expand due to a spontaneous decision of God, then it's to send out people and start a new church, not just get fatter, bigger, larger.

In twenty years I have witnessed churches grow and lose their capability to "be a church" in the process because of numerical "obesity." I've witnessed other churches TRY to grow in the same manner, only to die off because people perceived this move toward business models and decide they'd rather go to a "church" down the road than become part of a corporate flow chart. I've also witnessed churches remain faithfully the same size, and IF they experienced any growth, it was Providential for them to "birth" some new work out from them (a new church, sending out missionaries, training new clergy and sending them out). In this the last category was following the example of Mary, though without calling it that.

Corporate growth models are fully appropriate for businesses, but when applied to churches they have a negative effect often not perceived by those elated by the expansion of the enterprise. After all, in a culture where success is always interpreted as "Divine blessing," success is seldom scrutinized as to whether we succeeded at the right things. Particularly in relationship to the Body of Christ, it's frequently true to "climb the corporate ladder, only to discover it was leaning against the wrong wall." If there is ANY business model than can be applied to churches, it should be noted that under the "Starbucks model," the Church overtook the Roman Empire  - the most powerful regime in the world for it's time. Under the "Walmart model," however, Evangelicalism in North America has been a "flash in the pan," experiencing rapid decline after a relatively short period of cultural dominance.

A church is a "body," not a business; and like a body, it's designed to be a certain size, with certain capabilities that require a certain size. The Church conquered the Roman Empire by making many such bodies, not by making any of them in particular obese symbols of abundance. A church is a body, and even resembles a "body" in the young, Galilean, Jewish woman sense. If, for reasons which seem good to him, God causes her to expand, it is with the intent to "birth" some new work (a church, a missionary, a minister). If she is "pregnant" with new life, then that church must plan to "birth" that new work by training those families they will send out as a new church, training the missionaries they will send out into a new culture, or training those clergy they will send to lead a new congregation. But they are content that they are the size of a normal body, and should not expand beyond it otherwise.

Let's talk real numbers... with 100, or 120+/- (150 maximum) members (accounting for seasonal attendees), a church is a "normal sized body," able to operate in a manner described in Pauline Epistles. At this size a pastor is still a pastor; able to know names, be present in peoples' lives and keep the pastoral connection to people without the need to delegate pastoral duties to other staff. I once had "church growth" professor suggest that visitation was no place for a pastor, but instead that should be assigned a staff member or volunteer so that the "senior pastor" is free to focus on vision-casting and strategic planning; that a congregation should not get tied down to a building because it restricts the possibility for growth; that worship processes should remain fluid, and be regularly evaluated for widest appeal; and that supposedly everything "but sound doctrine" was "on the table" for a church dedicated to strategic growth planning. When I asked him, "What about developing a sense of 'scared space' for the congregation in a building through reverential architecture?" His response..."Sacred space? Where do you see THAT in the Bible?" This prof, who had little to no sense of sacred space, sacred times, sacred offices, sacred objects or sacred rites was a church growth and strategic planning professor, author and consultant whose influence has been widely felt in Evangelicalism. His advice fit well in the halls of Dallas Theological Seminary, but is wholly out of place in an Anglican context, or any other church wanting to resemble the triumphant Church of the 1st millennium.

A healthy, local church should strive to resemble Mary, the mother of Jesus. It remains faithful as a local body, not planning to grow by any effort of it's own. However, should God decide that it begins to swell, it is in preparation for "birthing" new life, a new ministry, a new minister. In this way, "The Church" grows even though "a church" does not. "Purpose-Driven" churches, strategic planning churches, seeker-friendly churches, "cell group" churches...all are striving to be the fat chieftain, symbolizing abundance. They no longer fit among the warriors, the maidens or the sages. They are the "fat man" sitting at the far end of the smoke-filled tent. That's what "strategic growth" churches are working to resemble, not Mary. Instead Mary, the "God-bearer," gives us an example for growing The Church that local churches should learn from.

Does America's "God" Even Exist?

The problem with using the term "God" as a proper name is that it's akin to how people speak to or about the "President." All U.S. presidents have had proper names in the past (i.e. "George Washington," "Abraham Lincoln," "Dwight Eisenhower" or "George Bush"), but in addressing them protocol demands people say "Mr. President." In the future, someone might actually needed to use the term "Madam President." But that use of the title as the proper name only works when addressing them directly, or speaking of them in a conversation wherein all that are part of the conversation know which "president" you're referring to. It doesn't work to simply say "back when the President ordered the buildup of American troops..." because another will rightfully ask, "Which 'president' are you referring to? Lincoln during the Civil War? Roosevelt for WWII? Bush '41 or Bush '43?" The use of the title as a name only works when everyone knows which entity you mean when using the title, either by direct address or through conversational context.

No one would question this principle in referring to U.S. Presidents, yet this truth is assumed not applicable when referring to "God." The title of "god" has, prior to monotheism becoming dominant in the West, been ascribed to those deities that a culture venerated and worshiped, entreating said divine entities for favors related to war victories, health, propagation and timely rains for yielding abundant crops. The famous pantheons of Rome, Greece and even the Vikings have latent cultural influence, shaping our calendars and being preserved in the names of our weekdays (Thor's Day = Thursday); yet none of the proper names of those ancient cultures find their way into our modern descriptions of "God" when we say it. We acknowledge that those bygone cultures had their "gods," but our culture means something very different when we say "God." Or do we?

What exactly is meant in American culture when people use the title "God" as a proper name?

In a house of worship, when everyone is in concert together over a mutual understanding of what is meant by "God" or which "god" they're referring to, then the use of the generic title of "God" is no problem. In a mosque, all of those praying to "God" know that they are referring to Allah as described in the Muslim tradition. Likewise, in a synagogue, referring to "God" has the shared understanding of Jewish traditions and Hebrew Bible to give shape and meaning to the title/proper name. In a Christian context, all in attendance understand that by "God" they mean the Triune God that has revealed himself to eternally be three persons as one (the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit) and clarified this agreement with frequent references to "the Lord Jesus Christ." Thus using the title/name "God" isn't problematic in the least because of the shared meaning in the gathering or religious context.

This shared understanding, though, cannot be assumed too broadly. In an increasingly pluralistic society, the number of world religions represented in the population are growing exponentially. This is not the greatest challenge to a shared understanding of what is meant by "God" though. What makes shared meaning of "God" so improbable is the triumph of individualism in matters concerning faith, religion and spirituality in American culture. Ask one hundred people, who profess belief in "God," and you will get at least seventy-six different descriptions of "God" as people make up, on the spot, a deity that is an amalgamation of all their favorite virtues. "I think of God as being like" they will begin, and then proceed to craft a deity that (1) makes sense to them, and (2) gives them the most comfort and affirmation. Whether or not such a "god" is attested in any ancient literature, or is represented in any of the world's major religions, is not relevant. It IS the deity that they can imagine when using the term "God," and therefore the authority of their own pronouncement is all that is needed to construct it.

The challenge we face, though, is that the deity they have described may not have "existed" prior to them describing it. (1) Is it attested in any literature prior to this person imagining it? (2) Is it represented in any religion other than merely in this person's own mind? If the answer is "no" to both, then it can reasonably be concluded that the person asked "what is God like?" just made it up on the spot. This might be taken as not the most tolerant position to assert, but I think it can responsibly suggested that if you make something up, there's a good chance it's not true (Yikes!). Some atheist skeptics might assert that all descriptions of "God" are made up, but I'd like to suggest that along a sliding scale, the probability increases something is "made up" when someone - on their own - makes it up.

Now, in all fairness, many in America "make up" their "God" having already inherited a Judeo-Christian framework out of cultural exposure. They will "name drop" things like "Bible," "Jesus" and "Father" without any doctrinal association to those terms, not knowing where they first heard them. Nevertheless, even with Judeo-Christian cultural assumptions as a guide, many still make up the rest, often with little regard for how credible their beliefs might be, or if their descriptions of "God" resemble any deity previously worshiped in history. What's more? "God" is the only proper name used along with the elective ignorance as to the history of that "God."

The triumph of individualism, as applied to peoples' views of "God," has been fully realized in America, in that I can make up my ideas of "God" on the spot, unconstrained by the specificity of having to NAME him, or cite historic ideas about him as my heritage. Generic theism is the default setting, and greater specificity is a divisive pursuit to be avoided. In fact, affirmation of the generic "God" is necessary for smooth interaction in the American civil society where the Constitution requires government not legally endorse one religious tradition over another. So then...what is meant by "God" when we say, in the Pledge of Allegiance, "one nation under God," or "In God We Trust" on our money? What "God" comes to mind at sporting events when people hear "God Bless America" sung? Well...frankly...anything you want.

Making up your own "God" is not just a right; in America, it's expected. "Can't you think for yourself?" comes the charge to anyone confessing to adhere to historic doctrines that predate their culture. In addition, keeping God generic is needed as to appear accepting of other religions one encounters. "Tolerance" is such a foundational doctrine of American civil religion, that monotheism (the belief that there exists just one God) must give way to henotheism (the belief that there are many gods, but one is loyal to just one of them; or that yours is your favorite; the "high god"). Though American culture would not revert to polytheism (the belief in many gods; pick your favorite; mix and match; assign each to geography and natural elements), what IS encouraged is a form of relativism in descriptions of "God" to mean whatever people want it to mean. It is distinctly "American" to keep "God" generic and undefined.

To invoke any proper names (e.g. the Lord Jesus Christ) beyond the "proper name" of "God" is seemingly to disenfranchise those that would not call "God" by that name, and to render uncomfortable those that would rather not delve into that specificity. Thus, America's "God" must, by necessity, be the generic construct that anyone - individually - can mean when they hear that "name" mentioned in nationalistic events (i.e. Pledge of Allegiance, money, "God Bless America," etc.). At the time of the nation's founding, a much more common understanding might have been enjoyed that "God" meant that deity traditionally taught in the Christian tradition. Now though, individualism has taken root so that America's "God" must instead be the what one makes up on the spot.

Unfortunately this generic, individually constructed, "God" is not well attested in history and does not enjoy a vibrant following in any religious subculture even today. Within the doors of mosques, synagogues and churches, "God" enjoys a high degree of specificity. Proper names are invoked and God's history with people is rehearsed to differentiate "God" as distinct - NOT generic. America's "God" does not exist outside of the spiritual ambiguity needed for nationalistic elements.

I am not a relativist. I'm a Christian; which means I own the "closed-mindedness" of being not only monotheistic, but also believing that the ONE God has revealed himself through the Incarnation and ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ, which was subsequently (and faithfully) explained through the writings of New Testament authors ("Apostles"), which have been reliably interpreted in the collective mainstream of later followers (The Church). Christian traditions have differed on some peripheral matters, but enjoyed two millennia of agreement in the doctrine of the Trinity*, codified in ecumenical creeds and confessions of Christian traditions throughout the world. And as a Christian, I belong to a "tribe" that confesses that the God who IS is Triune; and there is no other.

[*Can we finally dispense with the tiresome rebuttal "The word 'trinity' isn't in the Bible"? Neither is the word "gravity," yet evidence of it is found ubiquitously throughout its pages.]

But even if I were not a Christian, but instead were Jewish or Muslim, I still would scratch my head at the American instinct to keep "God" generic and unspecified, so that it can mean whatever anyone wants it to mean when they say it. Such a "God" is not historical, has no houses of worship, has written no sacred texts, has called no clergy into service, pronounces no moral codes, offers no redemption, provides no comfort. America's generic, made up, "God" does not exist.

Oh God exists alright...and he has existed long before I began trying to imagine him in forms I can manage with my finite categories. He existed long before the invention of American civil religion. He existed long before our culture came into being, and will exist eternally after it has vanished from the Earth. Not only this...but as a Christian I am also Trinitarian (there really doesn't exist a different type). So everyone should know what I mean when I say "God," but I'm also kinda weird that way.

Nevertheless, this new imagining of "God," as an individual creation of any given American, is a fairly recent concept; only about 200 years old. This new "doctrine" has grown though, causing conflict with those seeking to maintain historic specificity. It's not just Christians that may find themselves at odds with the American doctrine of generic theism though; Jews and Muslims may find similar conflicts (but I can only speak as a Christian). I can't be the only one that, when hearing the words "One Nation Under God," wants to ask "Which one do you mean?" Those advocating the return of school prayer never seem interested in specifying "prayer to whom?" Allah? Adonai? Jesus Christ? Odin? Amun?

The conversation goes like this...
Well meaning post: "We, as a country, need to put God first?"
Me: "What do you mean by 'God'?"
Posting person: "Well, to me God is like..." (and they proceed to make something up)
*sigh*

Admittedly, "One Nation...Under the Lord Jesus Christ" doesn't roll off the tongue quite the same, and I don't see any school board adopting that level of specificity anytime soon. However, if that's not what's blaring in the Christian's head as they say the Pledge of Allegiance, then it's possible they are slowly becoming more American than they are Christian, replacing the specific Triune God in their mind with the generic deity required by the culture. The uncomfortable conclusion is this...if the generic "God" of America, the creation of the individual, doesn't really exist, then adherence to American civil religion is - by necessity and practice - a functional "atheism" that is increasingly producing "One Nation Under no 'god' at all."