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A couple thoughts about Christian celebrity
There’s been a lot of talk about Christian celebrity the past several days, but Richard Beck hits on something important this morning by making the distinction between being popular and being a celebrity.
In short, the diagnostic test that you are dealing with a Christian celebrity isn’t the fact that the person is in a spotlight speaking to thousands. Because that might just be a talented and popular person up there. And there’s no shame or elitism in that. What makes the person a celebrity or not isn’t the size of the crowd. What makes the person a celebrity is where the person is before and after the talk. Let me repeat that. The test of Christian celebrity is where the person is before and after the talk. If the person giving the talk is in the audience before and/or after the talk then that’s not a Christian celebrity. That’s just a talented and popular speaker. By coming “down from the stage” to be with the crowd–it’s an Incarnational move here–the speaker is erasing any elite distance or distinction between themselves and their audience. Connecting with the crowd before and after is an act of solidarity, hospitality, humility and service. The speaker is making themselves available. And that availability is the exact opposite of celebrity.
This is a very helpful distinction. I remember attending a Desiring God pastors conference probably a decade ago and seeing Mark Driscoll ushered in by security after everyone else had already been seated, and quickly ushered out after he had spoken and before anyone else could get up to leave. That gives one sort of impression.
On the other hand, two years ago I went to Nashville to a small event where N. T. Wright was speaking. Dr. (Bishop? Rev.? not sure what title he prefers) Wright had just flown in from England that day. While clearly the focus of the event, he spent the first hour of the evening sitting in the crowd enjoying the local musicians who were there to sing, then after speaking for an hour spent at least another 90 minutes patiently signing books, taking pictures, and talking to a long line of folks. Popular? Yeah. Celebrity? Not that day.
The discussion also reminds me of this picture which I saw recently in the news:

Here’s the Pope, on a Lenten retreat, just another priest in a pew. Now, granted, Pope Francis is a celebrity by about any definition; but it seems clear to me that he’s trying as hard as he can to not be a celebrity; to be personal, real, accessible, and pastoral even in the most visible religious role in the world.
Even us non-celebrity (and even non-popular) folks could learn a lesson or two from the good Bishops of Durham and Rome..
How can suburban churches minister to urban areas?
Some challenging thoughts from Christina Cleveland today:
If we truly saw ourselves as an interdependent body with a shared Head, resources, blood, and life, then suburban churches that want to love on a city wouldn’t do it by expanding their empires across city lines. They would do it by truly sharing their resources, blood and life in service to the Head. Why build a new church building in the city when you can build one for an urban church – in desperate need of a new building– that is already there doing great work? Why hire a new pastor to work at your new urban church plant, when you can give an urban church the resources to make their long-suffering bi-vocational pastor full-time? Why fund a new urban service project when you can fund the urban service projects that people of color have been running tirelessly and effectively on a shoe-string budget for years? The empire says that our church needs to be present in every community, our church has the answers, and our church’s resources are our resources alone. If we follow this path, power dynamics remain unchanged and urban church plantations ensue. The better, more honoring path requires equity – which is costly. Just ask the rich, young ruler. Jesus asked him to reject his empire approach to life, stop being so possessive about his possessions, and join the interdependent family of God.
Powerful stuff.
Bullet Points for a Monday #5
Because, hey, it’s been a long time since I’ve done one of these.
- Did my first three-service weekend on worship team the last two days. I think I made the right decision to go to only one week per month.
- The worship set, albeit short, was a good one.
- Did a special number with a friend and it turned out really well.
- Have come to happy acceptance of the fact that I’ll never really be a soloist, but I can be a darn good backup singer. That works for me.
- Work has recently given me a case of ‘be careful what you wish for because you might just get it’. More to follow, but it’ll be an interesting next few months.
- We’re right in the middle of birthday week at the Hubbs house. Two birthdays down, one to go. Being 37 doesn’t make me feel nearly as old as having my youngest daughter turn 5 does.
- After griping that I missed Markdown support in my move back to Wordpress, my friend Randy pointed out that Wordpress added Markdown support via the Jetpack plugin a few months back. Huzzah!
- I’ve got a lot of thoughts brewing on the recent developments re: Bill Gothard and Mark Driscoll, but nothing really that feels solid enough or useful enough to be worth posting. Praying for all concerned.
Such are my scattered thoughts for Monday.
The Importance of Accountability
Carl Trueman, writing today about Mark Driscoll’s problems, and our own:
Mark Driscoll is one person, a uniquely talented individual. Yet he is also a function of structural problems within the new Reformed movement itself. Despite its distinct and in many ways sophisticated theology, the “young, restless, and reformed” movement has always been in some respects simply the latest manifestation of the weakest aspects of American Evangelicalism. It was, and is, a movement built on the power of a self-selected band of dynamic personalities, wonderful communicators, and talented preachers who have been marketed in a very attractive manner. Those things can all be great goods but when there is no real accountability involved, when financial arrangements are opaque in the extreme, and when personalities start to supplant the message, serious problems are never far away.
Trueman makes several good points here. It’s worth reading the whole thing.
OK, so I bailed on Octopress
A few months back I tried a great blog migration - moving from Wordpress to Octopress, a Ruby-based static site generator. Octopress had the virtue of being static, of having posts in Markdown files instead of HTML in a database, and of generally being slimmer than Wordpress.
What I found after a few months of use is that the friction to use Octopress was just higher than I was willing to accept:
- Write post content.
- rake generate new_post
- Paste in the new post.
- rake generate
- rake preview - make sure the post looks OK
- svn add the new post file + new static files
- svn commit to push them up to the server
- log in to my webserver
- svn update
All that for a single post. And if I wanted to post from a different machine, I had to remember to do an svn update first to make sure I was current everywhere. It wasn’t a fatal issue, but just more of a pain than I had anticipated.
Wordpress also allows nice things like posting from other apps, from my phone, etc. Not that I do much of that at the moment… but my intentions are good.
So my apologies to the half-dozen of you who subscribe to my RSS feed and saw it burp a dozen old posts last night. I got everything moved back into Wordpress and I think things are good to go.
The one thing I actually will miss is the ability to write my posts in Markdown. I know there’s a WP Markdown plugin but I’m not real thrilled with it. Oh well, I can manage HTML.
Practical Worship Leading Ideas
Yesterday I wrote a response to a post wherein someone else argued that church praise bands, by virtue of the type of music they play, speak a special language and have become a worship intermediary for the congregation. I disagreed to an extent, but promised some thoughts on principles for leading worship that can make participatory congregational worship more effective. Here are those thoughts:
Planning
On the planning side we need to carefully consider what new songs we bring into our congregational repertoire. We need new songs. We may find songs that play on Christian radio that are good choices; we will also find plenty there that are not. We will undoubtedly get requests from church members (and leaders!) to sing their new favorite radio song on some Sunday. This may times turn up good new songs; however, it may also be an area where we need to graciously exercise leadership and say no. If a song seems a little bit too simple and too easy for your highly-talented praise band, it’s probably just about right for your congregation.
We also need to be careful about the rate at which we introduce new songs. Back when I was leading on a weekly basis, when it was time to introduce a new song we would sing the song two weeks in a row, skip a week, and sing it again the fourth week before then adding it to our regular repertoire list. I would alsobe sure that every other song we sang those four weeks was a familiar song.
These two suggestions actually complement each other pretty well: if you’re more choosy about what songs you want to add to your repertoire, you won’t feel such pressure to add new songs at an uncomfortable frequency. And you can still manage to work in at least 10 new songs a year, which isn’t bad.
Execution
Lots has already been written on this topic, so I’m unlikely to say anything very new or novel. I love my church’s approach of having a large number of vocalists on the stage; it takes the pressure and focus off of any one or two people being soloists and lets us sing as a mini-congregation right there in the band.
Modern popular praise bands have developed an environment that resembles a rock concert more than a congregational time of worship, and the temptation is there to roll that right into our Sunday mornings. (I’ll leave only one example here.) The issue isn’t that they like to play rock music and that there’s a crowd that enjoys it. The issue is that we often, consciously or not, take it as a model for how our Sunday morning worship should look and sound. And that can be a problem.
If, during congregational worship, the focus frequently gets shifted to a gifted soloist, or a kickin’ guitar solo, or some novel and funky instrumentation, it’s a distraction. We’ve verged into concert territory and turned our congregation into an audience for the band instead of regular participants in worship. (There’s still room for ‘special music’, though. I’ll get to that.)
Really Leading
The other key thing we can do as leaders during the service requires a focus on that word: leading. One of the nicest things a person ever said to me after I led music in a service was that they felt like I had really led them; that there was no uncertainty about what was coming next, or what they were supposed to be doing; they were able to just comfortably settle into worship.
Here’s where we can be very practical in our leadership. If we’re introducing a new song, we should say so up front. If a band member is going to sing the first verse solo to allow everyone else to learn the tune, cue the congregation to that fact so they don’t feel the uncertainty of wondering when they’re expected to sing.
There’s still room for “special music” if that’s a regular part of your worship tradition, but set it apart in the service in a way that it’s clear what the intent is. By saying “Julie has a song to share with us now, so please have a seat and listen to the message of this song”, we can prepare our congregation to receive the song far better than if we just have the soloist start singing as if the song were just another part of the worship set.
Physical and verbal cues during songs are important ways to lead, too. Especially in songs where there may be more time between verses - provide clear cues to the congregation as to when to come in. Maybe just call out the first few words of the next line. (The person running your lyrics on the projector will appreciate this, too!)
Wrapping Up
Leading worship is an art as much as a science, but if we can approach it humbly and pastorally we will always be finding ways where we can improve as leaders, with the result being more appealing and engaging worship services. It should never be about us; it should always be about Him.
Do Praise Bands speak a Secret Language?
Yesterday I ran across a recent post from Lutheran pastor Erik Parker provocatively titled “Praise Bands are the new Medieval Priests”. In it Rev. Parker says that praise bands are alienating him from worship.
I just can’t access Praise music anymore, I don’t hear Praise songs as the music of worship. I find myself wondering why I am just standing there, in the midst of a group of people who are also not singing. As the Praise band performs song after song, I am consistently lost as to how the music goes, what verses will come next, how to follow the melody, when to start and stop singing, or when a random guitar solo will be thrown in right when I thought I had figured out when the next verse starts.
Parker recounts a recent church service where he observed that even as the very talented praise band was playing beautiful music, the people in the pews were, for the most part, “not really being a part of the music at all”, but rather just bystanders, “being played at, rather than played with”.
Parker draws the analogy that modern praise bands are the new medieval priests - leading worship in a ’language’ that few speak or can participate in. As such, he claims, “Praise Bands are incompatible with a worship that is done by the community… they are a performative medium, not a participatory one.”
I posted a link to the piece on Facebook last night and got an interesting mix of responses. A friend who has recently been looking for a new church noted that being directed to raise her hands to a song she has never even heard before makes her feel like a bystander rather than a participant in worship.
Another friend who grew up on the mission field in Africa said that music in small African churches that can’t afford a sound system is much more participative than in those that can. As he notes: “human nature being what it is, everyone turns it [the volume] up.”
What Language is that, again?
Full disclosure: I’m a member of a praise band. I have spent nearly all of my adult life either leading or playing in praise bands on a regular basis. So I clearly am unlikely to agree with the full premise of Rev. Parker’s post. However, I think he has identified some concerning symptoms, even if he has perhaps misidentified the true problem.
I share Rev. Parker’s concerns about planning congregational music that is regularly unfamiliar and difficult to sing. I have been a part of rehearsals where a team of professional-caliber musicians have had to work for a solid hour to get one new song learned to the point where we can sing and play it consistently. I have on more than one occasion wondered out loud how the congregation had any chance of singing the song on their one time through it if it took the band an hour to figure it out.
Don’t get me wrong - it’s imperative that we continue to teach our congregations new songs. But when our primary musical influence is Top 40 Christian radio, the songs we’re pushed to select are often difficult songs to sing, often requiring an unnaturally large vocal range and designed for professional vocalists. That concerns me.
A similar issue often exists with song familiarity. If my own experience is representative at all, our ‘best’ worship times come when we sing familiar songs. Familiarity allows us to think less about learning the words, melody, and arrangement, and think more about the message of the song. It’s no accident that a congregation stands mostly silent as the band leads a new song from the radio but then wholeheartedly belts out all four verses of a 200-year-old hymn.
It’s not (necessarily) about the band.
Where I think Rev. Parker gets it wrong is in pointing the finger at the Praise Band as the issue. The praise band is not the issue. Praise bands, playing in pretty much any style, can do music in a way that engages and draws in a congregation, or can do music in a way that pushes the congregation off to be ’the audience’ rather than ’the body’.
Rev. Parker makes a fair point that style can distract from real congregational worship. As he puts it, “rock bands are by design meant to overwhelm the audience with sound.” And I agree with him that overwhelming a congregation with sound isn’t conducive to congregational worship. But I’ve also attended services in Parker’s own denomination where more traditional instrumentation was used in a way and at a volume that still served to overwhelm the congregation. So it isn’t strictly about instrumentation or style.
However, there are planning and execution aspects that as worship leaders we can focus on to provide consistent inclusive congregational worship. Rather, though, than turning this into a two-thousand-word post, I think I’ll save those ideas for tomorrow.
Happening This Weekend
I was a bit excited back in November when I bought the tickets. And after living through a very long winter (which we hope is almost over), I’m more than a bit excited to be using the tickets this weekend.
The Healing of the Open Road
Maybe it’s just a reaction to still being in the tail end of 3 months of a cold winter back home, but give me a trip to Phoenix this week, a rental car with a sunroof, and a couple free afternoon hours, and I felt the road calling my name.
I’ve never been to Arizona before this week. It’s a far cry from the midwest that I’ve usually called home, but there’s a stark beauty to its dark, jagged mountains and sandy, scrubby terrain. The road lies out straight and flat for countless miles with little more than an occasional cactus breaking up the line to the peaks on the horizon.
So tonight, with two busy weeks of work travel almost behind me (home to Iowa tomorrow!) and a couple hours of sunlight, I turned the little SUV south, opened the windows and sunroof, and turned up the music. It took me a little while to get out of town and to roads less traveled, but eventually I turned off the main highway, crossed a cattle guard to turn onto a county road, and let my cares slowly filter out into the wind rushing past my window.
The music, both familiar (Bruce Hornsby) and new (Beck’s Morning Phase just came out today and is lovely) kept me company as the miles slipped behind. Prayers were spoken. Frustrations and hopes spilled out and were released to God. Little by little the beautiful broken emptiness of the desert reminded me of a greater hope, a hope that we all have for redemption.
Though 30 minutes of real traffic-free driving went by far too fast, there was also a certain cheerfulness to seeing the city lights signaling the return to civilization. Springtime is good for the soul, and my only regret from today is that I didn’t have the time to take a longer drive and see more. A friend advised that the two-hour drive through the hills up to Sedona is worthwhile. Next time I’ll have to see if I can get there.
The Lost World of Genesis One
Last week I finally got the chance to read The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate by John H. Walton. Dr. Walton is a professor of Old Testament at Wheaton College. His PhD is from the Hebrew Union College - Jewish Institute of Religion, which is, curiously enough (per Wikipedia), the primary seminary for training rabbis in Reform Judaism. All that to say the guy has a better-than-average understanding of the Old Testament, Jewish culture, and the Hebrew language.
Walton’s premise is one that, while previously unfamiliar to me, makes the most sense of how Genesis 1 - 2 should be understood as anything else I’ve read on the topic. The Lost World of Genesis One is structured around 20 premise statements, and in summary where he lands is this: we need to read and understand Genesis 1 in the same way the original audience read it. This turns out to be significantly different than we often hear it understood. As a very high-level summary, here’s what he says:
Ancient Cosmology is Functional
What does it mean for the universe to exist?, Walton asks. He proposes that people in the ancient world “believed that something existed not by virtue of its material properties, but by virtue of its having a function in an ordered system.” In such a view, he says, something could be manufactured physically but still not “exist” if it has not become functional.
Walton compares the creation stories of several different ancient cultures and notes that in each case, the creation story suggests not the creation of physical elements, but in the god ordering and purposing those elements into a functioning world. Certainly it’s not a stretch to think that the Israelites would’ve understood their creation story similarly.
Divine Rest is in a Temple
What’s up with God resting? Day seven, says Walton, is the climax of the story. Key, he says is
the piece of information that everyone knew in the ancient world and to which most modern readers are totally oblivious: Deity rests in a temple, and only in a temple. This is what temples were built for. We might even say that this is what a temple is— a place for divine rest. Perhaps even more significant, in some texts the construction of a temple is associated with cosmic creation…
…in the ancient world rest is what results when a crisis has been resolved or when stability has been achieved , when things have “settled down.” Consequently normal routines can be established and enjoyed. For deity this means that the normal operations of the cosmos can be undertaken. This is more a matter of engagement without obstacles rather than disengagement without responsibilities.
The Seven days of Genesis 1 Do Not Concern Material Origins
Says Walton:
If the seven days refer to the seven days of cosmic temple inauguration, days that concern origins of functions not material, then the seven days and Genesis 1 as a whole have nothing to contribute to the discussion of the age of the earth. This is not a conclusion designed to accommodate science —it was drawn from an analysis and interpretation of the biblical text of Genesis in its ancient environment. The point is not that the biblical text therefore supports an old earth, but simply that there is no biblical position on the age of the earth. If it were to turn out that the earth is young, so be it. But most people who seek to defend a young -earth view do so because they believe that the Bible obligates them to such a defense. I admire the fact that believers are willing to take unpopular positions and investigate all sorts of alternatives in an attempt to defend the reputation of the biblical text. But if the biblical text does not demand a young earth there would be little impetus or evidence to offer such a suggestion.
Empirical Science Cannot Speak to Purpose
“If public education is committed to the idea that science courses should reflect only empirical science, neither design nor metaphysical naturalism is acceptable because they both import conclusions about purpose into the discussion,” says Walton.
For those concerned with the purity of science, the focus on descriptive mechanisms in an empirical discipline will be welcomed, and considering legitimate weaknesses in the reigning paradigm should pose no problem since science always accepts critiques— that is how it develops and improves. For those concerned about the Bible and the integrity of their theology, the descriptive mechanisms that compose the evolutionary model need not be any more problematic for theology than the descriptive disciplines of meteorology or embryology. [This hearkens back to a point he made earlier in the book.] … If all parties were willing to agree to similar teleological neutrality in the classrooms dedicated to instruction in empirical science, the present conflict could move more easily toward resolution.
This is a conclusion that I find very liberating. It suggests that we can simultaneously affirm that God is the creator and origin of everything, and at the same time not be afraid of following science wherever it’s currently leading. Science can’t prove or disprove purpose or fundamental origins, and theology (in this view) need not lead us to dispute the current scientific understanding of origins.
The Lost World of Genesis One is a straightforward read, and I highly recommend it for any casual student of theology who wants a different perspective on understanding the creation account. The Kindle edition is currently less than six bucks, which is a pretty good deal.