truth to tell

So, I’ve been packing up my books for the move in a few weeks so I’ve set aside an assortment of books that I intend to read this summer before school starts. I had hoped to write a post about disorientation & weariness in American life but I’m simply lacking inspiration today…it’s been that way all week. So, sans inspiration, here’s a list of books I’m hoping to read this summer.

• My Beautiful Idol by Pete Gall
• Free to Be Bound by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove
• The End of Religion by Bruxy Cavey
• The Courage to Teach by Parker Palmer
• Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright
• Johnny Cash and the Great American Contradiction by Rodney Clapp
• Everything Must Change by Brian McLaren
• Ideology, Culture & the Process of Schooling by Henry Giroux
• The Christ-Haunted Landscape by Susan Ketchin
• The Divine Milieu by Teilhard de Chardin
• The Need for Roots by Simone Weil
• The Future of Faith in American Politics by David Gushee
• Thirteen Moons by Charles Frazier
• Stone of Tears by Terry Goodkind
• Dogmatics in Outline by Karl Barth
• The Hot Kid by Elmore Leonard
• Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry
• Something by both W.H. Auden & Dorothy Sayers (respectively) - Any suggestions?
• Various issues of Paste Magazine & the Oxford American

I’m certain that I won’t finish all of these but I will do my best. I’m hoping to finish up A Secular Age by Charles Taylor by the end of August. Any thoughts on other books to ad to the mix? I hope to have a more substantive post later this week.

Grace & peace,

A.T.

I have been asked by one of my commentators to reply in a more substantive fashion to the arguments presented in Pagan Christianity by George Barna and Frank Viola. I must reiterate that my purpose in this post is not to discourage people from reading Pagan Christianity nor do I believe that this book is “evil” or that must be avoided at all costs in order to keep one’s faith in the church intact (a charge that has been thrown around by many a critical reviewer). As stated in my previous review, I love Frank Viola for the work that he does with God’s help to plant New Testament style churches in the 21st century. Such a ministry is one that rightly and prophetically calls the church to question its practices and to discern what is fitting and fruitful for life in the Kingdom of God. Although Frank and I do not know one another well, I am a friend of his work and therefore, this review - while quite critical of many of the presuppositions and arguments of Pagan Christianity should not be construed as a personal attack on Viola’s work (nor even upon that of George Barna). What I hope to present in this second part of my review of Pagan Christianity are simply the deeper levels of my wrestling with the arguments and calls that Viola and Barna make for the church.

I know that both of these men deeply love Christs’ church and desire wholeheartedly to see it come more and more under the headship of Christ. This is, in my opinion, a position with which nobody wants to argue. Nevertheless, I do have some disagreements with both the substance of their arguments and the method by which the arguments are made.  It is true that many of Barna and Viola’s arguments are arguments with which I agree.  Each of them, I think, has its merit. However there are some issues that I have with this book that I think compromise their contention that what they write represents “unmovable historical fact” and that the reader has but two choices: either “ignore” these facts and be outside the true church or “be faithful” and act on what they have read by abandoning the institutional church.  This argument is reiterated in various ways throughout the book but I believe the authors articulate it most clearly in the first chapter:

If you choose to ‘take the red pill’ and be shown ‘how deep the rabbit hole goes’…if you want to learn the true story of where your Christian practices came from…if you are willing to have the curtain pulled back on the contemporary church and its traditional presuppositions fiercely challenged…then you will find this work to be disturbing, enlightening, and possibly life changing.

Put another way, if you are a Christian in the institutional church who takes the New Testament seriously, what you are about to read may lead to a crisis of conscience.  For you will be confronted by unmovable historical fact.

On the other hand, if you happen to be one of those people who gathers with other Christians outside the pale of institutional Christianity, you will discover afresh that not only is Scripture on your side - but history stands with you as well” (p. 7).

There are two glaring problems with the above contention that, from my perspective, compromise the validity and genuineness of the authors’ research from the start.  First is the contention that any book, any perspective, any written account can present “unmovable” historical fact.  Anyone who has taken on even a mildly serious study of the history of the Church knows that there is no such thing as “unmovable historical fact.”  It just doesn’t exist.  We have good guesses, great theories, quite a few primary sources, and a great deal of opinions and perspectives about what all of these things mean.  But good history must always make clear and understand that there are always more layers, more perspectives, more undiscovered artifacts and writings that may someday invalidate or disprove any set of facts that exist currently.  Good history, like good theology, is never done with a clinched fist.  In the same way that good theology works under the assumption that God is a mystery and our “theology” is speculative at best, good history works under the assumption that “the facts” are not always (and actually, rarely are) “unmovable,” irrefutable, uncontested, or even “factual.”  Thus, the false dichotomy set up between the “faithful” believer and the “unfaithful” Christian who doesn’t buy this book’s argument appears to be based on a particular reading of history and upon a particular way of understanding Scripture that not all Christians share.

This leads me to my second issue with the starting point of this book as a whole: the privileging of the New Testament over the whole witness of scripture.  As one who has learned what little I know about the Old Testament from a scholar in the “Canonical criticism” tradition, I find it utterly untenable and even unethical to favor the New Testament over the Old as Scripture that informs the way we do church.  In the New Testament, when the we see references to “the Scriptures,” we know that the authors are likely referring to the books of the Old Testament.  To place the New Testament over and above the Old Testament as a faithful guide for church practice is a refusal to bring the whole Scripture to bear on our perspective and we are rightly offended and suspicious of the claims of any writer, preacher, or teacher who makes such a refusal.

So, right off the bat, Pagan Christianity made my brain throw up a two red flags that forced me to question the validity of their findings throughout the book.  As I read and as I questioned, I formed at least two other critiques that are partly based on the first two:  To begin with, while much of their findings are based on “facts,” a great deal of their research - even down to quotations of church fathers and other figures - comes from secondary sources and not from in-depth research and reading of the primary sources of their arguments.  The authors may have done such research but their “abundant footnotes” do not indicate thus.  Furthering this critique, it seems that what the authors have done quite often is “proof text” from people who do not share their own arguments (Emil Bruner, Karl Barth, and John A.T. Robinson, for example).  “Proof texting,” by the way is something against which they warn the readers with regard to the Scriptures - apparently such a warning only applies thereto and not to extrabiblical writings.  At any rate, my first substantive beef with this book is that while footnotes are in abundance, many of those footnotes indicate a only a cursory glance at church history coupled with hasty, ideological inferences therefrom that do not showcase, in my view, any substantive engagement with the thought of the people they use (carelessly in my opinion) to make their arguments. In short, while this book is full of “facts” it is - in my humble opinion - poorly researched and based mostly on a particular opinion of how we are to interpret the bible as well as a particular reading of the so-called “facts” of history. I believe that a book which claims to represent “unmovable historical fact” must be far more careful, nuanced and in depth than Viola and Barna have been. While the authors admit that this isn’t a scholarly book, the task which they have taken on is unfortunately one that requires (whether they want to provide it or not) a scholarly (i.e. more nuanced, in-depth and genuinely thoughtful) engagement with the original sources on a more substantive level than they have provided. So in that particular sense, the book has failed to do what it claims to do.  It is, as far as history and biblical study go, far ideologically biased and surface-level than it should have been in order to accomplish their goals. I know that “objectivity” is something that is less and less in fashion these days and I’m not suggesting that their reading be more objective. I’m simply suggesting that the theological declarations and practical assertions the authors make are by no means plain when considered in light of the multifarious theories of historical analysis and biblical and theological study.  In short, I believe that what the authors have endeavored to do with this book is, essentially, impossible.  As I alluded above, history books are always interpretations of history and the idea that any of it is “unmovable” is utterly absurd to my mind given that for every historical fact claimed by one author, there is another conflicting view of that fact which must be brought to bear.

This leads me to my second substantive issue with the book as a whole: the authors’ understandings of theology, church history, church structure, etc. are all based upon particular readings of scripture which they seek to universalize (thus, the precarious situation of the reader who is left to choose between “accepting” historical “facts” or the person who “ignores” the “facts” and is, therefore, “unfaithful”).  A related issue for me is the reality that the institutional church as they describe it does not jibe with my own experience of the institutional church. While I agree that things such as church buildings, orders of worship, the sermon, etc. often need rethinking and maybe even undoing or abandoning, there are other aspects of their thought that I believe come not from an honest engagement with Scripture or even church history or theology but, rather, from opinionated ire and from a particular (and not necessarily consistent) reading of scripture.  I am not saying that their reading of scripture is not one with which I often agree but I’m am saying that in their writing, there is a theologically precarious universalizing tendency with regard to many issues and practices which are by no means universally understood, accepted, agreed upon or even experienced in the fashion in which they are presented them. For instance, consider their thoughts regarding theological education:

Contemporary theological teaching is data-transfer education. It moves from notebook to notebook. In the process, our theology rarely gets below the neck. If a student accurately parrots the ideas of the professor, he is awarded a degree…Theological knowledge, however, does not prepare a person for the ministry (216).”

I have studied in two theological seminaries from two very different traditions (one a well-known, prestigious U.S. seminary and the other a smaller but no less competent one).  I’ve also spent time studying in a religion department in a moderate-to-progressive Baptist university, a Christian studies department in a self-proclaimed fundamentalist Baptist college, and a humanities department at a “secular” state college.  In thinking about my experiences (reading through journals and recalling class sessions and conversations with students and professors) I’ve realized something incredibly strange and ironic in light of the authors’ contentions about “theological education”: none of these places have been places where the authors’ description of “theological education” holds true.

In other words, the past seven years of my life have been spent in “theological education” and (with only a few exceptions) not a single theology, church history, biblical studies, or ministry course which I have taken fits the description which the authors provide for “theological education.”  I must confess that this is the feeling I get throughout my reading of this book.  The authors describe a reality, I consider it closely - thinking through my personal history in the church, and I realize that the church, the seminary, the whatever has not been the same for me as it has for them.  Maybe I’ve just been in churches that are good at playing the game but something tells me that what’s really at play is the fact that the authors of Pagan Christianity have unfortunately presented - not a portrayal of the institutional church as it actually exists but, rather, a caricature thereof (at least in my own experience).

I know that George Barna is a respected analyst of American religious life and I know that both of these authors have worked hard to write a book that shows that many of our practices come from extra-biblical and sometimes pagan origins.  But what I do not know is where they get the idea that their reading of the Bible is the only accurate one.  Where do they get the idea that for the church to use something which may have pagan origins to draw people into closer communion with God is necessarily and without question a negative reality.  While the authors scoff at the various elements of “church” they consider to be unfaithful, I can say that without preaching, without pastors, without liturgy, without the grandeur and beauty of cathedrals, without choirs, without what the authors cannot consider “church” - without all of these things, I don’t think that I would be a Christian. Each of these “non-biblical, pagan realities” have been necessary to my faith formation. And what is important is that I am not alone.  Maybe it’s because I love theology or maybe it’s because I was a pastor’s son.  But, then again, my life has not been perfect - and neither has my experience of the church.  But I cannot help the fact that many of the Christian practices these authors would like to get rid of are practices which have consistently helped me to mature throughout my journey as a Christian person within the institution which they cannot seem to call a true expression of Church.

I do not deny the efficacy of New Testament style churches for growing people into mature followers of Christ. But I also cannot deny that my journey toward God and my continuing walk with Christ have been nurtured, sustained, and constantly allowed to flourish within the institutional church (in many different forms) which these authors claim has no right to exist.  I desire to follow Christ and I love the Church.  I believe that there are many forms of church in this world today and I cannot deny that - insofar as they remain faithful to Christ’s call to make disciples of all nations - they all have a biblical, historical and Spiritual right to exist. There are always changes, there are always problems, there are always cracks and struggles.  What I cannot let go, however is the fact that the institutional church - in particular and localized forms - has been the fellowship which has brought me time and again into the presence of God and I refuse to abandon it outright. The church of Jesus Christ is a mystery that exists in many different forms. The idea that the institutional church as a rule prohibits “every member functioning” or “participatory” worship or any of the other realities discussed in Pagan Christianity is simply absurd. I have been in churches all my life that have allowed for all of these things. Certainly, I’ve been in churches whose use of the various extra-biblical and possibly pagan practices described in this book has been a hindrance to Christian (and basically human) flourishing. But I must confess that, for each one of these hindering church communities I’ve encountered, I have also experienced life-giving, Spirit-led, headship-of-Christ communities which have allowed my faith to mature and grow, not in spite of, but through the various practices which supposedly invalidate the right of such a community to exist.  I love that Viola and Barna are so passionate about the maturation of Christ’s body but I do not believe that Pagan Christianity is effective in proving their thesis.  It is provocative and even prophetic - but it is ultimately unable to deliver what it promises.

Although this review has been quite critical, I do encourage you to buy this book. Read it; interact with it; pray about it; and talk about it with your friends and family. But do not stop there. Read other encounters with similar material. Read the church fathers. Read church history. Read Roman Catholic, baptist, charismatic, mainline, Anabaptists, Orthodox and other house church writers and realize that - although many will claim to have all the “facts,” history, the church and theology are far too elusive to be fully understood by any one person.  In the end, I don’t believe any form of church is the “right” one.  Others in the various traditions I’ve cited might disagree with me - and that’s fine.  What I know is that I am a Baptist-affiliated Christian who’s wife is a Presbyterian youth minister; who has served in ministry in Methodist, Episcopal and non-denominational churches; who finds affinity with Roman Catholics, Anabaptists and Quakers; who has lived in a Catholic Worker community; and who desires more than anything to serve Christ and Christ’s church - where ever and however it might spring up.  I’m a theological and ecclesiological mutt and it’s going to take more than one book to convince me that the various forms of church life I’ve experienced have no right to exist.

When, in an earlier post, I indicated that I was going to offer a review of Pagan Christianity (better late than never), I wrote that it would be “a review of Frank Viola and George Barna’s book, Pagan Christianity that compares aspects of their thinking to protestant liberalism a-la Adolf von Harnack’s book, What is Christianity.”

After some serious consideration, I realized that such a review would be not only silly but also disingenuous and uncharitable of me. It’s silly because both Barna and Viola take the church and the Scriptures much more seriously than I believe Harnack did. It’s disingenuous and uncharitable because I would be writing such a review mostly to get attention and cause a stir rather than to provoke open and faithful conversation regarding the books contents - and that’s just not what I’m here to do. I do not believe that such a connection between Harnack, Viola and Barna can be seriously made and honestly, the indicated post would never have worked - not even as a bad joke. At any rate, I still want to offer my impression of Pagan Christianity now that I’ve finally finished reading it. So here goes nothing.

I first encountered the writings of Frank Viola over a year ago when I read his book, Rethinking the Wineskin. This initial encounter forced me to rethink my idea of what church should look like and to broaden my conceptions of what “counts” as church. Prior to that initial engagement, my idea of church was what one might call fairly traditional. What changed for me, primarily, was that I no longer took the separation between clergy and laity to be as rigid as many might prefer and I became more open to the idea that a church can be church even if it does not have a pastor, “normal” leadership structures, or even look the way I think a church should look. Where I think I might differ with Viola is that I don’t believe that the pastorless church is the only way that church should be done (but, then again, he is often quite charitable to those in “traditional” churches).

In his most recent venture, Pagan Christianity - a revised edition of an older volume that enlists the aid of Christian statistician and pollster, George Barna - Viola argues that many (if not most) of the practices and understandings of Church which we currently hold have their roots in paganism or what the authors call “human tradition.” I think the basis of entirety of their argument can be found in the following statement: “We believe the Bible, not human tradition, is the divine guide for Christian faith and practice - including church practice (Pagan Christianity, 262).” My review won’t rehearse what other reviewers have said. Rather, I want simply to comment on the above quote which, I believe, forms the central presupposition for just about every argument they make in this book.

As a Christian raised and nurtured in the Baptist/Free Church tradition, I wholeheartedly agree that the Bible ought occupy a central place as a guide for Christian living and doctrine. However, I also believe that - without “human tradition” - the Bible as we know it would not exist. It was “human tradition” that decided how the canon was to be fixed (although I am aware that there are various iterations of that canon in protestantism, catholicism and orthodox Christianity); it was “human tradition” that preserved the writings of the Apostles and other New Testament texts… In other words, one of the few foundations to which I still hold is that it is utterly impossible to separate the Bible from Church tradition in any substantive way. Another issue with such an assertion is the fact that not all Christians recognize the same books of the bible to be authoritative and not all Christians have the same conceptions of authority. In fact, the Catholic tradition - without which we would not have the Scriptures in the first place - places Scripture and Tradition on equal footing. Such an understanding would likely be dismissed by Barna and Viola as “unbiblical.” I can’t say that I’ve read all of the reviews of Pagan Christianity and I can’t say that I really care to so I may be saying what’s already been said. I’m glad that this book has been written and I certainly support the work that Frank is doing. My only complaint is that I had hoped to see the writers display a more nuanced understanding of the role that human church tradition played in the formation and preservation of the biblical canon. The Bible was not written in a vacuum, the canon of scriptures which Viola (and I) consider to be so authoritative is in many ways a derivative of human tradition. I’m fairly sure that both Viola and Barna are aware of this but it would have been helpful from my perspective to see a more substantive acknowledgment thereof, although this may be a difference in perspective regarding the biblical authority or even readings of history.

I’ve read Frank’s other books and we’ve had a couple of e-mail conversations (however brief they may be) and I’m not here to blast him as a heretic or even decry the dangers of this book - I’m not that sort of blogger and I really think this book is helpful. Frank’s earlier works have been quite effective in shaking my foundations and allowing me to read the Scriptures in a different way. But I have to be honest in my review of Pagan Christianity and my honest perspective is that Frank and I will simply have to agree to disagree. I don’t think that “human tradition” and Scripture can (or should) be separated and that such a separation sets up a false dichotomy that is (in my humble opinion) historically and theologically difficult to defend. I love Frank for the work he does and for the writings that opened me up to the many, many possibilities of what “church” can mean but this is one step I cannot take.

Lydia and I have been living in a lovely-yet-oh so small apartment in Durham, NC during my short time at Duke Divinity School. Now that we’re going to be at Campbell together, we’ve begun looking for housing close by…and we’ve found our new dwelling place. And we’re hoping to move in beginning June 1st. If you live near Angier, NC, feel free to help us out!! Here’s a pic of the new place. If you like having Bar-B-Q’s then be looking for a back-to-school bash at our place around the end of August.

Did we mention that it’s built to make use of solar lighting and heating (via phenomenally placed windows and a central fan/vacuum system)?  We’re both oh so excited to be moving back to the country where our dog can run and our garden can grow.  We look forward to moving in soon and having our friends and families over as soon as possible.  Our current apartment has no parking and no room for anyone but us and we can’t wait for the fellowship and fun to start.  We’re not as close to downtown Raleigh as we’d hoped to be but it’s still closer than we would be if we stayed in Durham and our weekly mileage (which was around 1,000 a week) will be reduced to a little over 250 miles a week for the both of us.  That may still seem like a lot, but it’s the best we can do.  Anyway, we’re excited!!  Celebrate with us!

How to be “emergent” without taking the “postmodern plunge” - or, Why “emergent” is a great idea but isn’t really the “new reformation” everyone thinks it is. Oh boy. I stare at my computer having been placed in a spot that I don’t think I can easily get out of. I’ve gotten myself into a somewhat heated discussion via blog comments and posts with some folks who form the “marrow of emergent divinity.” I’ve opted to just stop critiquing certain aspects of the emergent conversation in comments and slanted posts and simply to state my frustrations outright. Despite the dubious nature of such a task, I’ve decided to give it a shot [minus the whole arrogant, snide comment about emergent being a great idea but not being a new reformation - sorry that was just unfair and silly].

Before I continue, however, I think I need to state for the record that - Contrary to appearances, I am not hostile toward the conversation regarding Christian practice and theology currently known as “emergent” or the “emerging church.” I am a friend of emergent village, have been (however poorly and short-term) an emergent cohort leader [hey, I'm still on the e-mail list], and I have many friends who are very closely engaged in all things emergent. Therefore, if you’re just itching to hear this spry, confrontational young seminary student’s critique of the emerging church “movement” and then respond with some counter-critiques of your own - you’ve simply come to the wrong blog.

I am not attempting to provide a “critique” of emerging Christianity, per se. It seems as though such a task would be nearly impossible given the fact that emerging Christianity is here to stay.. The efforts of other Christian ministers, students and theologians at “disavowing” the emerging church or attempting to thwart its existence are, in my opinion, a waste of time. The emerging church is here (in various forms) and the convergence of personalities which helped to bring about its formation are not simply going to slink away into obscurity (which, by the way, is something I’m quite happy about - Christianity needs more theologians and ministry practitioners with a little courage who aren’t simply saying the same, old stuff).

Nevertheless, I’ve gotten myself into some hot water for questioning some things…

First, I’ve questioned the extent to which the emergent Christian engagement with “postmodernism” is itself a dubious task.

What I mean to say when I critique this aspect of the emerging conversation is that the church must always be very careful and often quite critical of its engagements with any form of philosophy or cultural theory. I say this not because I believe postmodern or any other form of philosophy to be inherently dangerous. Rather, I say this because I believe that the thought developments currently sheltered beneath the “pomo” umbrella are really much too new, untested and contested to be uncritically applied much less integrated into Christian theological thought to the extent which it appears they have already been.

In other words, I mean to say that - in the same way that Christianity in the late 18th through early 20th centuries became enslaved to “modernist” assumptions - I fear that Christianity (especially the emerging/ent variety) may become enslaved to “postmodernist” assumptions just as quickly (and yes, I do believe there are some) without judging whether those assumptions are good for the church (and yes, I do believe that there are some cultural realities that are inherently “bad” for the church). In other words, I think “discernment” is still a useful word even in today’s world.

Second, and this may be what has gotten me into the most trouble, I’ve asked questions that I think may have been construed as a personal attack. For example, in a recent post, I wrote that

I believe that Christians need to concentrate on being Christian and that far too often the emergent conversation works so hard to make “postmodern-conversant” people that it forgets that the goal of the church is to make Christian people who follow God’s spirit through the whims and follies of every changing scene, whether it be modernity, postmodernity, or whatever else comes our way.”

While I understand why this might have caused some offense I, nevertheless, stand by what I said. The reason for my stubbornness can be conveyed in an even more recent comment I made in response to another commenter on this blog. I wrote that

Another frustration that I have is that “emergent” [whether emergents like it or not] carries a sort of “this is the “NEW” way of Christian living and you other folks better catch the wave or you’ll be left out of the kingdom” [attitude]. I see this when emergent voices make fun of traditional [conservative, liberal and everything in-between] Anglican, Reformed, Evangelical, or Roman Catholic Christians who simply do not buy the theory that all Church that isn’t emergent is always “Cartesian” or somehow compromised. At the root of this sort of “wink and nod” reaction to the wider Christian community is [I think] a lack of faith in God’s spirit to work through imperfect social, [cultural and ecclesial] circumstances to enliven hearts to live out the many implications of belief in Christ.

All it takes is a cursory look at some of the more popular “emergent” blogs and internet articles or a good listen-in on some conversations to realize that - while many emergents do in fact have a genuine desire to remain open, conversational, relational, Christian people. - what sometimes ends up happening among emerging Christians is that they [like their "traditional" counterparts] tend hunker down and play the “let’s criticize the ignorant fundies” game or they say things like “those poor, poor, parochial people - with their romanticized view of church and obsolete, non-generative ecclesiology.” There are quite a few concrete examples of such treatment - I won’t name them here simply because some of them come from friends who I respect and I refuse to drag anyone’s name through the mud. I point to all of this to say that one of my main issues in these past few posts and comments has not been an attack on emergent as such but an attack on the arrogance and “gotcha-ness” that seems to flow from this sort of “I’ve read books you couldn’t possibly understand so just trust me on this” mentality.

Sure there are, among the various denominations in the west (and also outside them), emergent Christians who are interested in being faithful to their tradition while also integrating “emerging” models of ministry. But what about those for whom “postmodern, emergent, etc.” are not yet helpful or hopeful ways of embodying the way of Christ in the 21st century? What about those who want to experience relational, experiential orthopractical Christian faith who feel alienated by the arrogance [either intentional or otherwise] that so often comes from the ranks of the emerging camp?

Please don’t misunderstand me - I really, genuinely do have hope that emerging Christianity can be a place for genuine discipleship and Christian practice but I really think it’s time that emerging Christians deal with the fact that just because someone disagrees with the historical narrative (such as it is) presented by “postmodernism” doesn’t mean that they are intellectually inept. Nor does it mean that such a person is hostile to “emergent” Christianity or that they somehow don’t get that Postmodernity is a fact. It is possible to “get it” [so to speak] without needing to tear down the obviously genuine ministry that emergent seeks to embody.

And really, I get it. I know the deal. I really do (and I think plenty of other people as well) realize that we exist in a period that marks a shift away from “modernity.” But “postmodernism” [by which I mean the philosophical milieu created by the work of theorists such as Derrida, Foucalt, Jean Baudrillard, and others] is by no means the only way of thinking about this shift that has occurred and is still happening. Philosophers and lingustic theorists are by no means in agreement regarding the merits of postmodernism and there are many in the philosophical & theological communities who critique modernism without taking the postmodernist plunge into weird, unintelligible linguistic-esque nonsense (hey, let me have my fun!). But I didn’t write this post to get into a philosophical debate…I at least agree that those sorts of conversations are best when had face-to-face rather than through the computer screen.

Post-modernity is a fact but I simply don’t buy “postmodernism.” I’ve read Derrida and Baudrillard and even a bit of Zizek and I think it’s nonsense (but I’m open to further engagement). But I am also a friend of emergent. I am an example of how one can be emergent without taking the postmodern plunge. One of the great merits of the emerging conversation is its embrace of a sort of plurality of belief(s) that seeks not to exclude those with varying viewpoints but to include as many voices as possible in order to enrich the conversation and I still hope that there’s a place at the table for me - theological disagreements and all. And I also hope that as emergents come to the point where they (we?) are called upon to explain themselves, that they (we) will do more than deflect, make fun, or dismiss those who, but for some philosophical differences, might someday find some affinity and friendship with us. After all, isn’t friendship what this whole emergent thing is about in the first place?