Showing posts with label Mark Driscoll. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Driscoll. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Mark Driscoll, Luhv, and the Meaning of NeoReformation

I'm not sure why, precisely, so many folks in my social media feeds seem to care about Mark Driscoll.

Driscoll, in the event you do not know him, was the pastor of a large nondenominational Seattle congregation.  He was the purveyor of a hip, muscular, hyperaggressive style of Christianity.  Jesus was a butt-kicker, according to Driscoll, a manly-man who brooked no mess.

I got to know of him during the brief rise of "emergent" and "emerging" Christianity back in the last decade.  Relative to the deconstructive, self-doubting, pomo crowd that tended to make up that movement, Driscoll was something of an anomaly.

Driscoll's approach to faith was an alpha-male testosterama, and he was perfectly willing to emphasize the "tough" part of "tough love" to the point where the latter seemed to evaporate away into nothing.  He yelled a people a whole bunch, to the point where his preaching reminded me of the pre-fight monologues in the WWE.  Sure, he was confident.  Bullies always project confidence, as they cut down everyone and cement their own power.  Tens of thousands flocked to hear him.  But I never understood the appeal, frankly.  Why would I go to church to be yelled at and berated?

Now, his large church is struggling, and his media-empire is shaken.

I struggle to understand why he should matter.  He's just this one guy, who only ever had authority because people--a tiny fraction of the population of a single nation--gave it to him.  Now, as his pattern of aggression has reached a tipping point, his influence within Christian culture is dissolving.  It felt inevitable.  I feel no shadenfreude-glee at the collapse of his work.  It's just sad.

One lingering fragment of Driscoll's work, though, was that he was supposed to represent a "Neo Calvinism" or...more painfully.. a "Neo-Reformation."

Thing is, I could never see anything new or reforming about anything he was doing.  Oh, sure, he wore hip t-shirts and talked the lingo and used presentation software.  But that was just window-dressing.  It meant nothing.

What Driscoll and Piper and others have been hawking as "new" was just the same old judgmental, isolationist, abstracted-from-reality approach to theology that has always defined Pharisaic faith.  It's the kind of theology that presents "love" as if "love" was just a sound we make.

"Luhv," he would say, but though vibrating air that came out of his well worn vocal cords seemed to be the same sound I make, it meant something completely different.  It meant obedience to power.  It meant control.  It meant the dominance of the strong over the weak.

It meant projecting the dynamics of our primate-nature onto the heavens, and declaring that "God's Love" looked just like you doing exactly what I say or else.  The Creator of the Universe is just a tiny bit more demanding than that.

That's not to suggest that a new reformation isn't necessary.  As fundamentalist literalism has done to scripture what Catholicism once did to ecclesiastical authority, there's a real need for a return to what matters.

Maybe one of these millennia, we'll figure that out.


Tuesday, May 7, 2013

The Powerless



Between twitter and Facebook and my blog-feed, I get a tremendous amount of Jesus data poured at me on a daily basis.  One of the most striking characteristics of that wash of information is just how much of it is dedicated to disagreement.

A blogger will say something, and a dozen others will chime in their opposition to that thing.  A pastor-provocateur will make a public pronouncement, and it will be the genesis of a thousand snarky tweets.

I have done this myself, frankly.  As we stand in relationship to one another, we naturally respond to one another's perspectives.  It's so very tempting.

But those responses are so very often ferociously polar, assuming the very worst about a soul.  I wonder why we respond in the way that we do.  Oh, sure, we're speaking the truth to power.   But how much power...real power...does any one other voice have?

Take, for example, Mark Driscoll, whose big bold provocations seem to be mainlined catnip for progressive Christians and their bloggery.    I've been seeing a whole bunch of Driscoll lately.  Maybe he has a new book coming out, and is turning up the volume.  He declares that there's no point in caring for creation, 'cause God's just going to destroy it when Jesus comes back.  Them's fighting words, says anyone who cares about the Garden.  He smacks down women in leadership, with a smug certainty that has launched a thousand outraged posts.

He's an "influential pastor," and the Mars Hill church he serves is rather on the large side.  With fifteen thousand attendees and a few thousand official members, it's hardly a teensy little thing.  Couple that with a media ministry, and that influence is there.

Sort of.   I mean, really, what is the reach of any individual pastor?  Here we are, a nation in which 246 million individuals claim to be Christian.  Driscoll leads, what, 15 thousand on a good day?   That's six-one-thousandths of one percent.    What authority?   What power?  None but that we give him.

None of us have the right in this nation to force our perspectives on any other.  It's the great blessing of religious liberty.  So if someone wants to say the universe is only 6,000 years old, they can do so...but I do not have to believe it.  If someone wants to argue that women should be subordinate, they can do so, but they cannot ever coerce any person into agreeing with them.  They can stand on zealous certainty, or rant, or attempt to spiritually bully, but ultimately, they can do no more than that.  It's a threat display.

As much as I disagree with positions that to me seem diametrically opposed to both reality and to the grace of the Gospel, I wonder at the point of umbrage and rancor.

Those positions are meaningless to me.  I know they have no power.  They cannot rule me, because I do not let them.

Do I need to exist as if they do have power?  Or can I simply name them as the powerless, empty things that they are?

It seems that the most potent response is simply to say, we are free.  We were created free.  You may listen to me if you wish.  Or not.

You may listen to the one who wants you to feel weak, if you so choose.  But you do not have to.  He has no power over you.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Do I Have to Say that Satan is Our AntiLord and UnSavior

It might be worth giving a watch to last night's Nightline, in which Mark Driscoll of the Mars Hill Church in Seattle argued vigorously for the reality of Satan. Pastor Mark, who I think I've described in past as "a great bellowing meatsock," managed to come across as less than bellowing, although there's not much he can do about His Pervasive Meatsockness. It must be the tendency towards professional wrestler inflections.

It was a pretty impressive PR coup, I must confess. Mark and a "Hooker for Jesus" were strongly in favor of Satan's just-barely-defeatable-power, and a recovering fundamentalist and the inescapable Deepak Chopra were in the other corner. More oddly, I learned about this through Fox News and Bill O'Reilly, who was pitching an ABC News show...a sure sign of the end times if ever there was one. To snag two diametrically opposed media outlets and have them pitch folks towards an event held at your church is quite a victory.

I, of course, completely disagree with Driscoll about the whole Satan thing. I've reposted my "Demonology" series here today, but the long and the short of it is that Driscoll places a great deal of emphasis on the power of this personal Adversary. I don't. I just can't find a place for it in a cohesive monotheism, and it isn't necessary for Christian faith, either. In fact, I think the whole "Satan" narrative defeats the purpose of the Gospel.

The struggle isn't between us and Satan, with Jesus being the one we call in as Divine Close Air Support. Ultimately, the battle is between ourselves and God, with Jesus being the one who brings us into reconciliation with our created purpose.

Satan is...well...irrelevant.