Monthly Archives: April 2007

Maybe you’ve seen the latest advertising blitz from Wal-Mart. No yellow smiley faces, bouncing around, slashing prices wherever they go. No soccer moms telling us how Wal-Mart helps them live the good life on a budget—by selling Levi Strauss jeans for under $20 a pair.

Instead, their latest ad campaign features ordinary-looking people against an ordinary backdrop, telling us things like:

If every Wal-Mart shopper, all 180 million of us, bought just one compact fluorescent bulb, it would reduce emissions the same as taking one million cars off the road.

If every Wal-Mart shopper bought just one pair of organic pajama pants, we could stop over a million pounds of pesticide from going into the earth.

If every Wal-Mart shopper bought just one compact laundry detergent, we’d reduce packaging waste by over 50 million pounds.

On the whole, I’m not a fan of Wal-Mart. In the last two-plus years, I’ve set foot in a Wal-Mart store just twice. Once because a friend talked me into going and once because my wife and I were given a Wal-Mart gift card. Each time I walked out, vowing never to return.

So at first I was skeptical. I thought this was just another slick marketing campaign (the ads are some of the best Wal-Mart has ever made), but hardly anything new. These days, corporations are tripping over themselves in the race to go green. A GE commercial promoting sustainable development is playing in the background as I type. Even garbage giant Waste Management has TV spots telling us how eco-friendly they are.

And another thing… this would not be the first time Wal-Mart has tried to reinvent itself, only to abandon the effort and hope no one notices. When I was a kid, Wal-Mart was the place to buy products “made in the U.S.A.” They wanted us to believe they were a true American company, selling goods made by hardworking Americans.

So much for that idea.

This morning I read “The Green Machine,” an article published by Fortune Magazine on Wal-Mart’s campaign to go green. I could hardly believe the following quote came from Wal-Mart’s CEO, Lee Scott:

To me, there can’t be anything good about putting all these chemicals in the air. There can’t be anything good about the smog you see in cities. There can’t be anything good about putting chemicals in these rivers in Third World countries so that somebody can buy an item for less money in a developed country. Those things are just inherently wrong, whether you are an environmentalist or not.

The article went on to describe how Wal-Mart is changing the way they do business, in order to lessen their ecological footprint. Eliminating excessive packaging, reducing the amount of fuel consumed by their massive truck fleet, installing energy-efficient lighting in their stores, etc.

Lee Scott explained to Wal-Mart employees that cutting the amount of packaging that winds up in Wal-Mart’s trash bins each day is just common sense:

Think about it. If we throw it away, we had to buy it first. So we pay twice—once to get it, once to have it taken away. What if we reverse that? What if our suppliers send us less, and everything they send us has value as a recycled product? No waste, and we get paid instead.

OK, so Wal-Mart’s campaign to go green is about saving money—at least as much as (if not more than) it’s about saving the earth. Which isn’t a bad thing, really. The market economy could be harnessed to help, not hurt, the environment.

For example, the environmental movement, like Wal-Mart, has reinvented itself over the years. The usual stereotype—that environmentalists are nature-worshiping, placard-waving, tree-hugging hippies—is increasingly irrelevant. More and more environmentalists are getting in touch with their entrepreneurial side. As a result, more and more executives are recognizing that caring for the earth makes good business sense.

Sometimes governments need to regulate our impact on the earth. The Clean Air Act of 1990 decreased air pollution in the United States—without hurting the U.S. economy over the long run.

But increasingly, as consumers, we have a new option. We have the opportunity to vote with our dollars, demanding products that are created and delivered in sustainable, ecologically responsible ways. (On a side note, we also have the opportunity to demand that people in the developing world who make these products are compensated fairly.) When we voice our demand, even Wal-Mart listens.

Only time will tell whether Wal-Mart’s green reinvention is for real. Will they truly go green for the long haul? We’ll see.

But it’s a start. And for all that’s wrong with our consumerist, “more-is-more” society, the flip side is that we have more eco-friendly purchasing options than ever before. Let’s take advantage of them. The more we do so, the more corporate giants like Wal-Mart will realize the value of going green.

In the end, Lee Scott is right. Whatever you think about global warming, environmental regulation, and the like, there can’t be anything good about putting all these chemicals in the air. There can’t be anything good about polluting the water supply in developing countries just so those of us in the rich world can save a few bucks on blue jeans.

Last night, before drifting off to sleep, it hit me what was missing from Cornerstone’s response to the recent Soulforce visit.

Hospitality.

Let me illustrate what I mean. When I was in Turkey a couple years ago, we visited places that few Americans have heard of, much less traveled to. Towns where poverty is the norm, Islam is the only religion, and women wear head coverings and ankle-length dresses.

How do you think the people in these towns reacted when they met a large group of Westerners who, by their standards, were ridiculously wealthy, immodestly dressed, and hopelessly apostate?

Hostility? Suspicion? Ambivalence?

One woman we met began cutting sprigs of rosemary from the bushes in front of her house, giving them to each of us. A 12-year-old boy scoured his family’s already-harvested vineyard till he found a cluster of grapes (one of the few missed by the harvesters) to offer us.

A woman who had not yet harvested her grapes ran to her vineyard and came back with enough for all 50 of us—she handed us about a fifth of her total harvest that day. Another family saw us hiking up the mountain on the outskirts of town. When we returned, they met us with fruit and freshly baked bread.

We were strangers. Outsiders. Infidels, even. Yet they treated us like one of their own—and better. Why? Because that’s what you do in a hospitality culture. If anyone—even your enemy—arrives on your doorstep, you welcome them into your home. They have come under your protection, and you’re responsible for whatever happens to them while they’re under your roof.

This is the culture of hospitality we encounter in the Bible. It was simply taken for granted that when a stranger came to town, regardless of who they were or where they came from, you made sure they were taken care of. Towns that didn’t had a history of getting burnt to a crisp.

The true measure of our love for Christ is not how we treat our friends, but how we treat those we normally think of as our enemies. Perhaps we need to stop thinking of them as enemies and start seeing them first as human beings made in the image and likeness of God.

The other day I got a letter from Cornerstone University, letting me know that a pro-gay religious group called Soulforce was planning a campus visit—and that Cornerstone had no plans to roll out the welcome mat.

Cards on the table… I graduated from Grand Rapids Theological Seminary (which is part of Cornerstone) five years ago. I happen to share their belief that human sexuality is a gift from God, meant to be expressed between a man and woman in a monogamous, covenant relationship—and that any other expression falls outside God’s design.

But I also believe the second greatest command in all of scripture is to “love your neighbor” (which Jesus said is like the greatest command, to love God)—and that our “neighbor,” as defined by Jesus, is the very person we are most likely to fear, hate, resent, etc. After all, that’s how Jesus’ audience viewed the Samaritan, the hero of Jesus’ most famous parable.

So what should an evangelical university do when the gay community pays a visit?

According to Cornerstone’s letter, Soulforce is a group “whose purpose is to undermine and destroy the biblical values we affirm.” Cornerstone defended their decision to say no to Soulforce’s visit by making a distinction between “how we may respond to a person… versus how we may respond to an organization.”

And when two Soulforce members showed up anyway (after they gave the university advance notice), they were arrested for trespassing. According to Cornerstone’s president, Soulforce is “not really interested in dialogue; they want media visuals. They want to be seen being arrested. They like being portrayed as victims.”

I have three questions for my alma mater (and all of us who wrestle with how to engage those we disagree with)…

1) Do we have the right to attribute motive to the people we disagree with? It’s one thing to say that someone’s beliefs and behaviors contradict our understanding of the Bible. But when we accuse someone of deliberately undermining biblical values, have we crossed a line? Have we begun to judge hearts and minds, which is God’s prerogative alone? Have we violated Jesus’ command to “judge not, lest [we] be judged”?

2) Is it really that easy to separate our response to an organization from our response to a person? I’m not aware of any person-less organizations. Can we really give the cold shoulder to a group like Soulforce and still love—I mean really love, not just tolerate—the people who belong to Soulforce? Or, after a while, do we risk becoming like those who use the cliche “love the sinner, hate the sin” as an excuse to say whatever they want about the “sinner”?

3) Is it really fair to say that Soulforce is interested in theatrics and not dialogue? I’m not going to rule out the possibility that theatrics were part of their strategy. But how do you explain the dialogue that has taken place at schools like Seattle Pacific University (not far from where I now live) and Calvin College (just down the street from Cornerstone)—schools that found a way to welcome Soulforce without necessarily compromising their evangelical convictions?

Two final comments. First, it should be noted that not everyone at Cornerstone agreed with the school’s handling of the Soulforce visit. The Grand Rapids Press reported that some CU students met with the Soulforce delegation off-campus… a professor even brought lunch to the visitors. Maybe that’s what “love your neighbor” looks like.

Last, a few months ago I wrote an article for Radiant Magazine wrestling with some of the same issues. Click here to read it.

Within a few generations it became one of fastest growing religions on the planet, spreading to the farthest reaches of the Roman Empire… Northern Africa. Israel. Turkey. Germany. England.

Its followers worshiped a god who came to earth in human form.

According to some legends, he was born of a virgin… in a cave.

He shared a last meal of bread and wine with his followers, before ascending to his father in heaven.

He promised eternal life for those who were baptized into his movement.

His followers met on Sundays and celebrated his birthday every December 25.

The name of this god was Mithra. His legend predates the birth of Jesus by sixty years.

Then there was Asclepius, god of medicine and healing. You might recognize his symbol, a snake wrapped around a pole. Originally, the Hippocratic Oath was taken in his name.

Asclepius was known for healing the sick and restoring sight to the blind. He even raised the dead, which made Zeus so angry that he killed Asclepius

Shortly after that, Asclepius rose from the dead.

People began worshiping him some 300 years before Jesus.

And there’s Dionysus, the god of wine—also born of a virgin. Every year, thousands celebrated the festival of Dionysus, where they reenacted his most famous miracle: turning water into wine.

Now… imagine you’re one of the first Christians. You travel from city to city, all over the Empire. You tell everyone you meet about this Jesus, born of a virgin, who turned the water into wine. Healed the sick. Gave sight to the blind. Raised the dead. He was killed, buried, and rose from the dead.

Not very original, is it?

The problem wasn’t convincing people that Jesus could do miracles like these. The problem was, the Roman world already had a pantheon full of gods who did them—long before Jesus did.

And yet, within a few generations of Jesus, his followers had turned the world upside down. They had transformed entire cities. Christianity became one of the fastest growing religions in the Roman Empire.

So what was it that made Christianity so compelling? What was so unique about these followers of Jesus, if not their story? I’d like to suggest three possibilities…

1. The belief that God is for us.

What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

— Paul, Romans 8:31 (TNIV)

Most of us who are Christians have heard this verse so many times, our eyes begin to glaze over when someone quotes it… and we miss its absolutely revolutionary message:

God is for us.

In the Greco-Roman world, you could not count on the gods being for you. There was no sense hoping they had your best interests at heart. They might help you out of a jam one minute, only to curse you the next. They were unpredictable, unreliable.

A God who died and rose again was not unique. But a God who died and rose again because he loved us? That was almost unheard of.

2. It was such good news, they couldn’t keep it to themselves.

Many religions in Jesus’ day were so secretive, they became known as “mystery cults.” They claimed to possess secret knowledge or divine wisdom—known as the musterion—available only to their initiates.

Paul uses the same language to describe Jesus’ movement. He called it “the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations” (Colossians 1:26). But there was one crucial difference:

This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven.

Colossians 1:24 (TNIV)

This musterion was for everybody.

3. Christianity upended the social hierarchy of the Western world.

When they said “everybody,” they meant everybody. Many religions had membership restrictions. Mithraism, especially popular among Roman soldiers, was for men only. The priests of Asclepius would heal just about anyone (provided they had enough money)… except for pregnant women. (Lots of them died in childbirth, so they were considered something of a liability.)

And in guild temples across the empire, whenever worshipers gathered to feast (and to participate in, um, other activities), everyone ate according to their class. First to eat were the rich—the aristocracy, the elite, the high society. Anyone holding Roman citizenship was guaranteed a decent spot in line, followed by freedmen (former slaves). As for the slaves, they might get to eat scraps from the tables… if they were lucky.

Then there was a guy named Paul, with the audacity to write:

In Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith… There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Galatian 3:28 (TNIV)

Jesus is for everybody. Women, men. Slave, free. When they gathered to eat, rich and poor ate together, served one another, loved one another. In Christ, social distinctions became meaningless. Everyone had equal value and dignity in the eyes of God.

Is it any wonder Christianity turned the world upside down?

Tonight we saw the film Black Gold, which chronicles Tadesse Meskela’s uphill battle to negotiate something approaching a fair price for coffee on behalf of 74,000 Ethiopian farmers who happen to grow some of the world’s finest coffee beans.

This film is powerful. Before you read another word, go to the official website. And make sure you see this movie:

www.blackgoldmovie.com

There were two scenes in particular that I won’t soon forget.

The first showed several care-worn Ethiopian farmers gathered around freshly made coffee. (By “freshly made,” I mean the beans were roasted and ground by hand just moments before.)

As one of them poured the coffee, the others prayed. (Ethiopia has a large Christian population.) I was moved by the simple, elemental nature of their prayers.

The asked God to give them food — so they could eat. They asked God to give their children schools — so they could read. And they asked God to raise the wholesale price of coffee — so they could live.

They asked God to raise the price of coffee.

They were praying to the same God that I pray to.

And it hit me: when I make a choice as mundane as the coffee I drink, I can either become part of the answer this farmer’s prayer… or I can stand in the way.

If God hears the cry of the poor (Exodus 22:23, Psalm 69:33) — which means he heard the cry of this farmer — then with each cup of coffee I buy, either I am saying, “Your kingdom come; your will be done,” or I’m telling God he can do something else with his kingdom and his will.

Because coffee is a spiritual issue.

Another scene showed men from the farming co-op gathered in a room to hear the bad news that despite efforts to secure a better price for their coffee, they still had not earned enough profit to build a school for their children.

Then one of the men spoke. He said if there was not enough money to build a school, they should keep working until they earned more. And if there was still not enough, then everyone should give their own money to help build the school.

And then he said, “I will sell my shirt and give the money for the school.”

This from a man who earns pennies doing back-breaking manual labor each day. The women in his community sort the coffee beans by hand… for just 50 cents a day.

This man is willing to sell his shirt — probably his only shirt — so his children can learn to read.

Ah, but I must have that caramel macchiato.

My wife and I bought weekend passes to Film Faith and Justice 2007 here in Seattle. I’ll be blogging about the highlights from each day. Here’s day one…

Tonight, we heard Shane Claiborne (author of The Irresistible Revolution). He spoke at our church in Michigan a couple of times, so it was nice to hear a familiar voice sharing some familiar stories.

But there was one story I hadn’t heard before, and I doubt I’ll be able to get it out of my head…

Shane was visiting churches in Iraq when he said to one of the pastors there, “I had no idea there were so many Christians in Iraq.”

The pastor replied, “You Americans didn’t invent Christianity. You just domesticated it.”

Then he said, “We pray for the church in America. We pray that you will be the people of God, that you will be people of peace.”

What does it say about us, when Christians living in one of the most dangerous places on earth feel compelled to pray — for us?

What does it say about us, that Christians who have experienced real peril look at us and pray that our faith will be undomesticated?

And what does it say about me, that I pray so little for the church in Iraq — a church that’s in danger of disappearing?

I just finished Erik Mirandette’s book The Only Road North. (If you’re not familiar with Erik’s story, read this article from the Grand Rapids Press.)

The Only Road North begins with a warning, letting you know just what kind of book this is:

My story offers no resolution and has no ending. It is not nice or neat, but it is real… After a long and trepidant road we will finally arrive before we started, with more questions than answers, completely and totally unsettled, but ever searching, ever hopeful.

You may be thinking: Most 23-year-olds haven’t lived long enough to write something like that.

Then again, most 23-year-olds haven’t been arrested (repeatedly) for helping refugees in Morocco. Or motorcycled their way across the African continent.

And most 23-year-olds haven’t had their bodies riddled with hundreds of nails from a suicide bomber standing just a few feet away and detonating pure hatred. But that’s what happened to Erik two years ago this month.

I wouldn’t say I “enjoyed” Erik’s book. I don’t think you’re supposed to. Even at the story’s most exhilirating moments, you know something terrible is just around the corner, waiting to happen. You wish you could, by sheer force of will, stop Erik, his brother, and his two friends from going to Cairo… from going to that market…

But you can’t.

So what should you expect from reading Erik’s book? That depends. There are places where the writing could have been better. There are places where the writing is brilliant, too. But that’s not really the point. I can only wonder what kind of courage it takes to relive a story like this, so people like me can read it.

You may be looking for a nice story of a good Christian kid. Someone who’s “on fire for the Lord.” For whom every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before…

In that case, you might want to choose another book.

Erik goes almost breathlessly from living the frat boy life in Colorado to helping missionaries in Morocco. There doesn’t seem to be a clear “Damascus road” experience between the two. But if you’re like me, you might take comfort in being reminded that God doesn’t always wait for us to get our act together before he decides to use us.

You may be in search of answers. You won’t find many in Erik’s book. But you might be comforted by the fact that someone who’s been terrorized by unspeakable evil has the same questions, the same doubts as you do. You may discover from reading Erik’s story that doubt is not the opposite of faith; it’s not the opposite of hope…

…in which case I promise you, The Only Road North will be worth every page.

In the Beginning There Was the Bestseller

CBS Sunday Morning did a piece on Bible publishing this morning. (Thanks to my parents for giving me the heads up.) Page two of the online story has an interview with Denzel Washington about his role in The Bible Experience.

The Bible Experience is a dramatization of the TNIV performed by a cast of African-American celebrities like Washinton, Samuel L. Jackson, Blair Underwood, Angela Bassett, Cuba Gooding Jr, etc. I helped Zondervan launch the New Testament last fall.

You can also listen to the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection, as told by The Bible Experience.

from The Liberator, by Rob Lacey…

The macabre scene moves slowly up Skull Hill. They get there and the Roman Death Squad shove a cocktail made of wine with myrrh into Jesus’ face. He takes a sip but spits it out, flat refusing to drink the stuff.

They pin Jesus to the rough crossbar leaving him to die. Him and the two hardened criminals — one on either side. Jesus says, “Dad! Don’t hold this against these people — wipe their slates clean. They’ve got no idea what’s going on here!”

The Death Squad rip his clothes off and start playing gambling games to see who “inherits” the clothing mementos.

Time check: Friday 9 AM. One of the soldiers grabs the multi-use Offence Placard, writes up Jesus’ “crime” and then pins it just above his head. It reads, “Jesus: King of the Jews”.

The other two victims with him — the terrorists — one on either side of the central focus point, Jesus… bite back their excruciating pain and add their jibes to the mix… “Aren’t you supposed to be The Liberator? Get liberating, won’t you? You need it and we need it!”

But the other guy calls across, “Don’t you have no respect for God? You’re getting what you had coming to you, but this guy’s done nothing wrong. So shut it!”

The second career criminal turns to Jesus and says, “Jesus, don’t forget me when you sit on your throne, okay?”

Jesus answers him, “I’ll tell you today — no lie — you and me, we’ll be in paradise together.”

Time check: 12 midday. It goes dark, totally dark, for three full hours right across Judah. Nothing except the chilling sound track of three men inching toward Death. Later, about three in the afternoon, Jesus freaks those still left there by shouting, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” Translation: “My God, my God, why’ve you abandoned me?”

Some of those within earshot hear the “Eli, Eli” bit and get the wrong end of the stick, saying, “Listen, he’s trying to connect with Elijah!”

Knee-jerk reaction for one guy was to offer some soured wine to the sufferer, hoisting a soaked sponge of the stuff up to Jesus on a stick. Others are going, “Whoa! Hang on. Wait to see if Elijah’s going to turn up like a one-man SWAT team and rescue him.”

Jesus shouts on out one more time and finally allows his spirit to be torn out of his broken body.

He cries out, “Dad, I trust you with my spirit!”

His last words.

He dies.

A friend of mine is organizing (sorry, organising… this is a UK-related post, after all) Rob Bell’s tour of the UK and Ireland this June:

Calling All Peacemakers

If you happen to live in that corner of the world, don’t miss it. Click the above link for dates and locations.

“Calling All Peacemakers” was the name of the last teaching series Rob did before we moved to Seattle. (We were a part of the Mars Hill community for three-plus years.)

Well worth the $3 to download the whole series