Well, I must admit, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed doing this series, and it’s forced me to read the book far more thoroughly than I would have otherwise. Seems amazing that it was only a couple of weeks ago that I started blogging on this book. And there’s been lots to cogitate over – including a few things that I haven’t written about. So here’s my final verdict, I’ve split it up into the bits I like about McLaren’s “Generous Orthodoxy”, and the stumbling blocks for me that stop me from wanting to follow everything he’s said.

What I liked

The chapter on being missional was one of the most inspiring things I’ve read in recent memory. And the quote I inserted here was the epitome of what I think McLaren is right about. Because no matter how much it hurts our de-sensitised, consumeristic, self-absorbed western sensibilities (those are all the big words that I know); there is no way that you can earnestly read Jesus’ teachings in the bible and not believe that your lifestyle has to change. That your focus has to be on taking on Jesus’ way of life. It hurts, and it’s hard, but it’s such an exciting adventure. That’s what I see as missing in my life and the lives of those around me.

I found it impossible to read McLaren’s work without being deeply impressed by his ability to glean the fundamentals (small f) out of every branch of Christianity and find the goodness in their existence. He leaves no doubt that as a Vineyardian, which has a pretty deep evangelical history, and a little bit of charismatic excitement in it, there is much that the catholics, the anabaptists, even the liberals can teach me about who Jesus is, and what that should mean in my life. He has found the goodness in everyone, especially those who are his harshest critics, and he does so in a beautiful, almost poetic way.

And it is that poetic approach to expressing the love of Christ that has probably had the greatest impact on me. The excitement in the way he writes expresses itself with a beautiful flow that really does inspire soemthing in me. It’s helped me to step back from lots of the intellectual arguments and be willing to let the Spirit of God speak to my spirit when I’m praying, and for me to see the beauty of the creator in the beauty of creation. That is a gift that I hope to cherish for a long time to come.

What I had trouble with:

The biggest problem for me was the reluctance of McLaren to address the pursuit of truth. Because it seems to me that no matter how “generous” your orthodoxy is, that should still be the ultimate goal. To decipher just a little of the fullness of the truth in God’s word is something that is worth chasing after. I understand McLaren’s dillema. The problem for him in writing a book like this is that everyone believes that they have “The Truth”(tm). And in that sense he is smart to stay away from it. But nevertheless, the truth of who Christ is, what he came for and how we need to respond is something central to any Christian belief. Pretty much all of the problems that I had with McLaren’s individual statements had to do with this central theme.

So Finally….

The problem with any “generous orthodoxy” is that you are always going to be criticised for allowing too much in, and for keeping stuff out. Which is why this book was such a thinker. McLaren reaches his goal – providing a framework within which the Church can function – minus all of the inherited baggage that has dogged every species of Christianity since the dawn of Christendom. He strips away our ability to take pride in why we remain the “faithful remnant” (I love that term – it describes so much of the problem) and yet simultaneously he shows us the things that have made a positive Kingdom difference in the world. There’s going to be disaggreement, and nobody is likely to act entirely inside this orthodoxy, but it does give everyone a chance to learn from each other, and to put aside the petty in-fighting that is so often more passionate than our interest in furthering the kingdom. So…… let the revolution begin – starting here and now.

In the interests of not drawing out this series much further (too much thinking is hurting my brain), I’m collating the remainding chapters to describe the key points that I think McLaren is making.

On being charismatic/contemplative:

Like many of the journeying Vineyardians I know of, their experience with the “charismatic” was tainted by the models they saw displayed in the Pentecostal world. Hurt by the whole speaking-in-tongues-as-Christian-status type approach it took a fair bit for him to recognise the Godliness in what the Holy Spirit can do. But having been put in a situation where he believed in the spirit working in that way – I love his summation of what being baptised in the Spirit (oh how I wish there was a less loaded term) is about for him.

“Sometimes I’m talking with someone – offering pastoral counsel or just talking with someone I meet on a plane or in a restaurant – and a kind of wisom or insight comes to me, wisdom that I can’t explain or claim as my own….

Sometimes I know I should give away a sum of money to someone in need, and I know that not doing so would be missing a great opportunity to do good….. Sometimes I’m prayind, and I feel a confidence rise up in me that what I’m asking for will truly happen, and this confidence gives me courage to take risks I would not normally take. Sometimes I’m preaching or preparing to preach and I feel a boldness wash over me like a brisk wave in the surf and I know I’m being empowered by the Spirit of God”

On predestination:

Predestination is one of those nasty ones, that despite the constant barrage of opinion, I’m yet to fully make up my mind on – although I think that I’m leaning towards McLaren’s point of view (as distinct from Ianniello’s – sorry mate).

“Whether it’s God who makes us puppets, or whether it’s genes…… it doesn’t matter much to me. I have little time for determinism. If it’s true then I can’t help but not believe in it, because, after all, I have not choice.”

On being green:

I’m yet to have heard a legitimate argument for why the church shouldn’t be more outspoken about environmental issues. It’s an area that I know I personally need to look at my lifestyle about, and am starting to take steps towards. McLaren wheels out some pretty standard arguments, as well as tracing some of the church’s apathy to the environment (“Jesus is gunna come soon anyway and then who gives a stuff”). If there’s someone who is of the opinion that Christians are too environmentally conscious – I’d love to hear it. That’s not being sarcastic – I just don’t know what your argument is likely to be.

On being incarnational:

I was prepared for this chapter to be a nice easy one that I’d agree with everything in and would make me happy. What could be more altruistic that the need for Christians to be following the incarnational example of Christ and to be little Jesuses in the community. McLaren gets a little bit more controversial than that.

McLaren argues not for converting people into a Christian culture – which I agree with. There is a deep seated problem Christendom-wide with stifling the personalities of the people we bring into the flock. But then he goes in deeper and almost goes (but perhaps not quite) to the point of advocating other religions – which while I’m keen to be nice and accepting and respectful – just gets me starting to lean towards having no other Gods. Might come back to that in the final post of the series. Stay tuned.

On being depressed, yet hopeful and unfinished:

McLaren finishes the way he started – recognising the problems with the Church – the arrogance, the intolerance, the disunity – and offers up some hope for the future, by pointing to the good things that are happening now. And the church is not all doom and gloom. The world is changing. We are starting to change it. Sometimes we even have Christians that are doing good. McLaren is remarkably humble in admitting that his “Generous Orthodoxy” has further to go – God isn’t finished with it yet. He describes this unfinished tension the way all good non-fiction authors do: with someone else’s words

“How can we keep the artist discontented with his pictures while preventing him from being vitally discontented with his art? How can we make a man always dissatisfied with this work, yet always satisfied with working? How can we make sure that the portrait painter will throw the portrait out of the window instead of taking the natural and more human course of throwing the sitter out the window?” (Chesterton – “Orthodoxy”)

This concludes my summation of the book. I hope you’ve enjoyed the series, or if not that at least somewhere in there something has made you think in some way. Or something. Tomorrow, or possibly the next day, there will be a “What I reckon” piece on this book. Then I’ll be getting into some hardcore bible stuff. Possibly Genesis. Or 1 Samuel. Or Daniel. Maybe Judges.

There’s a blog that I’ve been reading called “Dear Elena“. It’s written by a guy who lost his young daughter in February. It’s a haunting read, and very raw. Some days it’s uplifting. Some days it’s depressing. Most days it makes you want to cry. The most memorable post for me was the reprinting of the homily that the Catholic Priest gave at the funeral. The ability to find hope in the midst of so much pain inspires the kind of Christian I want to be. A Christian who has the humility to recognise that they don’t always have answers, that their faith is incomplete – and yet offers the ray of hope that is in them, the hope that they have in Christ.

I wanted to hold off on writing this entry until I was certain that I had McLaren’s point of view absolutely clear in my mind. For my mind there are three things that McLaren is saying in his “Why I am biblical” chapter.

1. The bible is not an answer book

McLaren argues that too often we treat the Bible as some ancient moral encylclopedia, as though we can research and find our answer to any problem. He describes this approach as having come from our modern, westernised, rational viewpoint – and it is out of step with the cultural context of the biblical times and the people who wrote the bible. He explains that (from his perspective) “God-breathed” means that it has been created by God, but written by humans.

He uses the analogy of his own life. While he would never question that he exists because God created him- ie. God said “let there be Brian, and there was Brian”, that doesn’t change the fact that he has two parents who got together to make him. There’s a little bit of difficulty in my mind gettting his analogy to work (thus the delay in getting this post out), but I’m fairly happy to accept that the Bible, in the translations we have today and in a completely different cultural context, cannot be treated as an answer book. (if anyone does find an answer book though, let me know )

2. The bible finds its purpose in mission

McLaren’s finest hour in this chapter comes when he speaks about what should be obvious to everyone – the bible exists to equip the saints for ministry. He comes to this having just declared his frustration at the restrictions churches place on membership without using words such as “inerrant” and “literal” to describe the Scripture. Coming out of that, he muses that “Oddly, I’ve never heard of a church or denomination that asked people to affirm a doctrinal statement like this: The purpose of Scripture is to equip God’s people for good works.” (italics his).

Then he gets excited: “But again, think about what tyruly biblical Christians (Protestant, Catholic, …. whatever) have done when they have understood the profitable purpose of Scripture. Instructed by Scripture, they have left the comforts of home and country and gone to every corner of the world, spreading the Good News of Jesus in word and deed.” McLaren recognises that the bible exists not as a reference manual, not as an academic text, but as a tool to be used in the greater purpose that Jesus came to birth in the church. The bible exists to help us change the world. (my words, not his)

3. The bible as a narrative

Despite the rather sound base assumption (the bible as a narrative), the places McLaren takes the argument from there are a little bit unsatisfying. This point is mostly McLaren’s attempt at covering for the fact that there are some really icky bits (my words again:)) in the Old Testament that really take some explaining. McLaren’s point of view is that to start with we should be reading the bible (and the early history portions in particular) as a story, which doesn’t mean that God agrees with everything that happens therein. Which is pretty fair.
It’s the next bit that is a bit hard to swallow. And before I tell you why I don’t like it – let me say that I’m not sure I have anything better. It’s a decent crack at it. I don’t want to be throwing stones. Just trying to think this stuff through for myself.

McLaren believes that sometimes God told the Israelites to do stuff that doesn’t really seem to be very loving and fatherly, because they were in a culture that was significantly worse than anything God told them to do, so God was calling them to be slightly better than the rest of the world. Which is just a little bit much for me. I still believe in a God who is holy – set apart. Who wants to have nothing to do with sin. And this line of thinking is hard to align with a holy God who cannot bear to be a part of sin.

The other part I don’t understand about McLaren’s thinking is that whereas in most of the book (and indeeed this chapter) he is telling people to throw away their rationalised worldview, here he is trying to justify his point of view following a very clear “if A = B and C=D then E must equal F” line of thinking. But as I say, I don’t have anything better – it’s just intriguing. I’d love to hear other people’s opinions. Play nicely

This chapter was a bit of a mixed bag – with McLaren making some interesting claims, and saying a few things that I’ve not really heard that much of. This is one of the few chapters in the book where McLaren is more arguing a point rather than seeking a generous middle ground. He is seeking to see some of the poetry brought back into the church, so have us willing to allow some of the mystery of who God is to replace our Systematic theology which limits what we believe about God.

It’s a hard argument to disagree with. While I do think that McLaren is slightly over-romanticising an approach which can cause as many problems as the way that we tend to think now, there is certainly something in me that says that we are selling ourselves short by trying to explain and understand everything. And to take it a little off track from the point in “A Generous Orthodoxy” – perhaps it is our unwillingness to be a bit poetic about the way we talk about God that stops us from being a little more willing to experience the super-natural. I know that when I’ve brought myself to a place where I feel like I understand what God’s on about have also been some of the driest times. Maybe that’s even why so many people feel so unsatisfied by theological training – they lose the romance, the excitement, the mystery.

You only have to look at the way Christ spoke to see that we are probably trying to understand more than we are trying to experience. Because I think we understand by explaining, but we experience by hearing stories, by allowing for imagination, by letting God be beyond what we can understand. So there it is, from now on my teaching is going to be more poetic. Hopefully.