Finished reading: Accidental Saints by Nadia Bolz-Weber

This one was kinda hidden in those photos I posted yesterday. But after wading through Heim I was ready for a shorter, easy read, and Accidental Saints: Finding God in All the Wrong People by Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber was just the ticket.

It’s more of Nadia at her best, telling stories about her little parish in Denver and how she has experienced God at work in her life.

Nadia is a polarizing figure. Sure, you may have concerns about her attitude, language, and bits of her theology. Regardless, every time I hear or read her, I come away wishing that my faith, embrace of the Gospel, and walk with Jesus looked a little more like hers. That’s enough for me.

Finished reading: Saved From Sacrifice by S. Mark Heim

I don’t remember when this book came onto my radar, but it was already on my Amazon wishlist when my friend Daniel’s recommendation pushed it to the top of that list.

Saved From Sacrifice: A Theology of the Cross by S. Mark Heim is a long-ish volume that rather thoroughly summarizes the arguments for the ‘scapegoat’ theory of the atonement as proposed by René Girard. My knowledge of atonement theories has been relatively limited up to this point; aside from knowing “penal substitionary atonement” (PSA) (and remembering a Desiring God pastor’s conference where Mark Driscoll declared it one of the fundamental truths of the faith that was a hill to die on), I’ve not dug into any. So Saved by Sacrifice was an eye-opening entry into a differing view of Christ’s death.

As an aside, here’s my summary of the condensed Wikipedia summary of Girard’s position:

it is humankind, not God, who has need for various forms of atoning violence. Humans are driven by desire for that which another has or wants. This desire increases to a point where society is at risk; it is at this point that the scapegoat mechanism is triggered. This is the point where one person is singled out as the cause of the trouble and is expelled or killed by the group. This person is the scapegoat. Social order is restored as people are contented that they have solved the cause of their problems by removing the scapegoated individual, and the cycle begins again. The keyword here is “content”. Scapegoating serves as a psychological relief for a group of people. Girard contends that this is what happened in the narrative of Jesus. The difference between the scapegoating of Jesus and others, Girard believes, is that in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, he is shown to be an innocent victim; humanity is thus made aware of its violent tendencies and the cycle is broken.

I also quoted a paragraph from Heim’s book in a previous blog post that was a key bit of explanation in helping me get my head around the idea.

Heim spends a good chunk at the beginning of the book explaining the theory and how representations of Jesus’ death from the very early church might support this scapegoat perspective. He then overviews how the scapegoat theory fits into readings of other books - including a really interesting perspective on Job - and then ties things up by addressing the key PSA texts (think Romans 3 - 5 and most of Hebrews) and how they might be read from a scapegoating perspective.

I’d definitely recommend this one as worthwhile reading if the topic is of interest. It was thick, but not dense - a very helpful read.

By resurrection Jesus is cleared of the scapegoat charges against him...

By resurrection Jesus is cleared of the scapegoat charges against him. But the resurrection also acquits those who scapegoated him. While they certainly committed the crime and are certainly guilty, it is also incontestable that the one they are charged with killing is alive. They can be declared not guilty of Jesus’ death by the fact that Jesus is not dead. The prosecution cannot proceed in this capital case without a dead body, and the tomb is empty. What the resurrection presents in court is a living person, what [Markus] Barth calls “the evidence of the raised victim.” It is thus righteous of God to account the accused not guilty, or justified by resurrection. Of course, the risen Christ could justly press for retribution against those who had wronged him, even if they did not succeed in silencing him permanently. But this, which is his right, is also his right to decline. And Christ does so, becoming instead an advocate for sinners.

-- S. Mark Heim, Saved from Sacrifice: A Theology of the Cross, Kindle location 1980

I got this book for Christmas and am finally getting the chance to dig into it. This is my first trip into the Girardian scapegoating theory of the atonement, and it’s quite a ride.

Aigner: Reframing Worship Arguments

I really appreciated this piece from Jonathan Aigner on Ponder Anew yesterday, wherein he suggests reframing so many of the discussions we have around music in the church.

Chris Tomlin in Johnson City

For instance:

Bad Argument #1: Old songs are better. This argument usually descends into warm, fuzzy reminiscences of singing in church with Grandma. That’s all fine and good, but it’s not enough… Some beloved old hymns feature terrible, vapid poetry paired with disjunct, noodly tunes, yet continue to find acceptance because their emotional appeal is so strong. Reframing this discussion: -Singing old songs (in addition to new ones) keeps us grounded in the history of our faith and connects us to those who have come before, reminding us that we’re not alone. -Singing old songs (in addition to new ones) protecting us from the sins of narcissism and chronological snobbery. -Singing old songs (in addition to new ones) expands our worship vocabulary, and steeps us in the language of our faith.

This is a beneficial approach; rather than focusing on arguments of preference we can discuss more significant issues that lie below the surface.

Aigner addresses these questions, too:

Bad Argument #2: The band is too loud. Bad Argument #3: I don’t like it.

It’s worth reading the whole thing.

Liftoff Episode 12: Geof makes the bigtime

When the Relay podcast guys announced a show about space, my first thought was “sure, Stephen and Jason are great, but they need Geof as a third host”. Well, he hasn’t made it that far yet, but I was excited yesterday to see that he did make it on to Liftoff episode 12 as a guest.

Geof works at the Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, as a Payload Rack Officer for the International Space Station. I’ve heard bits and pieces about his job over the last year, but I learned a lot listening to him talk here. If you’re interested in space, Liftoff is worth a listen.

Music that evokes an emotional response

From a Facebook group post today:

Name a specific musical artist, for whatever reason, that is always able to draw a visceral emotional response from you. And if you’re comfortable, share the reason why!

Rather than respond just on that Facebook group, I thought I’d post here, both because a few more people would read it, and because it’s just the sort of music nerd thing that I will want to answer with my own spin. In this particular case I’m going to give at least three answers, just because I can.

First I’m going to go back to high school and pick the first piece of classical music I really fell head-over-heels in love with: Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto. It really clicked in order for me - first the lovely first movement (especially the slow theme in Eb major), then the slow middle movement, then the big theme of the third movement which is first introduced as a slow piano solo in Bb major, and is then driven home as the big finale. Such fantastic stuff. Grabs me every time. I bought a score of the concerto and learned all the easy piano parts, but never managed to work up all the fast nasty parts.

I have several recordings of Rach 2, but my favorite is one I just came upon a few years ago: Stephen Hough with the Andrew Litton and the Dallas Symphony Orchestra. Hough plays it fast and rowdy. I think Sergei himself might approve. Here’s a couple minutes of a live recording that gives you an idea of the quick tempo:

www.youtube.com/watch

If I move on to my adult years, there are a few artists whose music has resonated with me like no other.

My nostalgia pick is Rich Mullins; I became a fan in high school, played and sang his music repeatedly, spent a couple days in shock when he died, and continue to count him as a huge influence on my own musical instincts. The song of his that gets a reaction now is one that I didn’t necessarily love as much as a kid, but that resonates hugely now as an adult.

My folks, they were always the first family to arrive with seven people jammed into a car that seated five there was one bathroom to bathe and shave in six of us stood in line Hot water for only three, but we all did just fine Talk about your miracles, talk about your faith My dad, he could make things grow out of Indiana clay Mom could make a gourmet meal out of just cornbread and beans And they learned to give faith hands and feet And somehow gave it wings

My dad was a piano tuner from Nebraska, not a farmer from Indiana, but outside of that… this is pretty easily the story of my family. I almost never get through it with dry eyes.

www.youtube.com/watch

Later on I’d point to the music of Andrew Osenga (“Early in the Morning” and “Swing Wide the Glimmering Gates”) and Andrew Peterson (whose Behold the Lamb of God is, in my book, one of the few perfect Christian albums ever).

The first song that comes to mind from lately, though, is “Wait for It” from Hamilton. (Yeah, I’m talking about Hamilton again. Deal with it.)

In a recent interview with the Hamilton cast, Leslie Odom Jr. (who plays Aaron Burr) as his favorite - the moment of tension and focus in the production that ropes the audience in. It’s tough to perform, but when it’s right, it’s amazing. It’s a beautiful song, and the lyrics of the chorus elicit a response from me every time. In it, Aaron Burr reflects on the challenges and losses in his own life:

Life doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes, and it takes, and it takes And we keep living anyway We rise, and we fall, and we break, And we make our mistakes And if there’s a reason I’m still alive When so many around me have died I’m willing to wait for it

There’s a desperation and intensity to Burr’s cry in this song that grabs me hard - the desire for real meaning, the joy and the pain of life… man oh man.

www.youtube.com/watch_sDiM

So there you go, songs that provoke a visceral reaction from me. Do you have any of your own?

Finished reading: The Type B Manager by Victor Lipman

Being a recently new manager at work, and having a definite Type B personality, I saw The Type B Manager on the shelf and thought, hey, why not?

Now, books on management, in general, are a tough sell for me. After a lifetime of reading thick engineering, physics, history, and theology, management books seem relatively thin books and mostly a collection of platitudes and “well, duh” principles. But in an attempt to become a good manager, I keep giving them a try. 

The Type B Manager was an exemplary specimen of this sort of thin platitude. Even in  trying to address Type B personalities, the book tends to describe the management challenge, what a Type A manager would do, and then how a Type B manager might handle it differently - a strategy that made the Type B personality seem like the poorer option. 

Maybe I just need to give up management books in general and spend more time reading Rands instead.

Finished reading: All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

I didn’t get as much read on this business trip as I’d thought I might - French schedules have you eating dinner late with little time left for recreational reading before bed - but I did manage to finish All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. This novel, set in WWII, tells the parallel stories of a blind French girl and a German boy with a precocious engineering streak.

It’s a beautifully told story, capturing a smaller slice of life than you often get from a World War II novel. The intersections between the two main characters become clear by about half-way through the book, and I spent the rest of the time hoping against hope that the ending would be satisfactory. It was.

All the Light We Cannot See won the 2015 Pulitzer Prize for fiction, and while I haven’t read that much 2014/2015 fiction yet, I can understand why this one took the prize. Highly recommended.

I should've remembered this from last time...

This post serves simply as a reminder to myself that when a European immigration officer asks where I came from and then asks “by?” he doesn’t want to know what Iowa is near to - he wants to know what cities my flight connected through.

And he’ll get rather irritated if I don’t pick up on that quickly.

On the other hand, if he can say “By? By? By?” with a little more rhythm, he might have a future on an ‘N Sync reunion tour.

I love my daughter's embarrassed-but-pleased-with-herself smile

Oh yeah.