Excuse Me Pastor I Have a Question: Job and Generation Y

            I’m not sure who came up with the idea that the Bible is “Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth,” but they were wrong. I grew up with this slogan for the Bible but as I began my undertaking of a Master’s in Christian Scripture a little over a year ago, I have some thoughts on this. BASIC is hardly a word I would apply to that behemoth collection of books, INSTRUCTIONS probably applies to far less of it than you would think, and BEFORE LEAVING EARTH has some implications that are troubling in their own right. Likewise, orthodox theology is filled with ideas that are often confusing, troublesome, and even problematic. Yet somehow many in the church that I, and many of my peers in Generation Y grew up in, have tried to gloss over the challenging portions of our scripture and theology or worse, swept them under the rug. I am fortunate to presently be in a context where I get to wrestle through these scriptures and these theologies with some incredibly bright students and some of the finest Bible scholars and theologians I could ever hope to learn from as I study in seminary. I am in a very fortunate situation in which my questions are encouraged and my frustration is not shunned. Yet many people in my generation have found themselves stuck in places where their questions are cast aside.

            I have about a half dozen friends who spent time in one particular “Bible School”[1] program. The sort that doesn’t get you a degree, but the kind where you go live and serve with people, take semi-formal classes about the bible or ministry, and then go on mission trips. They brought questions to Bible School. They were given answers at Bible School. The answers, however, seem to have been the sort that stem conversations and stop troubling questions. My perception is that these friends of mine were asking questions that were not easily answered. And yet, they received “easy answers.” They received the answers that implicitly said, “You need to stop asking these sorts of questions.”

·      “Is homosexuality wrong?” “Yes, the Bible says so.” “Then why don’t we make women cover their heads in church?” “That was a matter of cultural context.”

·      “Should we take the whole Bible literally?” “Yes!” “Then what about Proverbs 26:4-5? Do we answers fools according to their folly or don’t we?” “…”

·      “Why does God let bad things happen to helpless people when he could stop these things from happening?” “No one knows but God” “Right, but can we talk about it?” “I wouldn’t want to cause people to stumble over intellectual issues. You just need to have faith.”[2]

The friends I have in mind as I write this are not unique in their experience; their program was not a cult nor is it a hub of ignorance. It was filled with people doing their best. Likewise, I have to believe that the pastors, teachers, and speakers that many of my other fellow Generation Y companions and I grew up hearing were very well intentioned people as well. I don’t mean this in the “road to hell is paved with good intentions” sense, I mean it with sincerity. They taught us what they were taught, and the answers they regurgitated had probably worked for them for their whole lives. But as you may have heard, we are living in an increasingly “post-Christian[3]” nation; Christianity is not “assumed” any more. People want to know why, and “Because the Bible says so” is becoming a less satisfying answer everyday.

            This is not to say that our historic brothers and sisters of the faith were not asking questions. They were. The church has always had prophets; the ones who ask, “Why are we doing it this way? Why do we believe this? Is this really what God wants from us?” Yet somehow, I get the sense that I did not grow up with many of those types around me. It seems that many of my friends didn’t either. As a result, I now find myself surrounded by people who are asking questions that their “Bible Schools” are scared to touch. Interestingly, because I am in seminary and apparently have sufficiently trustworthy character, I find myself being on the receiving end of many of these sorts of questions. As I sit with my friends and hear these challenging questions, I understand the temptation to easy answers. I am in seminary full time, thinking about and reading about the issues that my friends are asking about all the time. Often I wish I could answer, “It’s simple! Here’s why.” yet at my moments when I speak honestly I find myself saying, “I’m not sure. But one thing I know: it’s complicated.”

Just about a week ago I was attending a “Theological Panel on Sex and The Body” at Naked City Brewery (an incredibly Generation Y thing to do) and I heard a statement that I think defines many of my Gen Y comrades’ view on the church remarkably well. In comments about the oftentimes shallow view of sexuality Generation Y Christians grew up being taught, a woman stood up and said something very similar to, “I am not mad that my pastors may have been wrong about this. I am mad at how ardently they insisted they were right.” Gen Y is ok with questions. I think God is ok with questions too. In fact, I think that the sacred book we stumble through all the time shows this same sort of God.

The book of Job typifies Gen Y pretty well in some ways. Many of us grew up hearing the story of Job as the story of the man with deep faith. If you only read Job chapters 1, 2, and 42:10-17, you’d probably be right in assessing the story as little more than that. Job loves God, but then loses everything, but then Job is faithful, then God gives it all back twofold, and Job lives happily ever after. However, Job is the guy who, among his first words mind you, says, “Let the day perish in which I was born… Why is light given to one in misery, and life to the bitter in soul, who long for death but it does not come… whom God has fenced in…”[4] Job will even go on to accuse God of shooting him with poisonous arrows[5]. Yet God will say to Job’s seemingly respectful and reverent friend Eliphaz, “My wrath is kindled against you and against your two friends; for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.”[6] Job, the man who said that God was using him for divine archery practice, is the one who, according to God himself, has spoken rightly about the divine. God can handle our questions, even if the church can’t. Ironically the Bible, the Church’s book, even commends those who ask the seemingly impossible questions.

The church[7] may not have done a great job about being receptive to Gen Y’s questions. However, there is a book full of answers right in the middle of the Bible, which many in my generation, myself included, were enthusiastically recommended: Proverbs. Proverbs is a much-needed balance to our other two books of wisdom literature and it has some great things to say. That being said, there is a reason we have three books of wisdom literature. Job asks the hard questions. Ecclesiastes, my favorite of the three, acknowledges the fact that life is hard, it doesn’t make much sense, wisdom will only get us so far, and we will probably die confused about the events that our life contained. The book of Proverbs, by very important contrast to these first two, instead is filled with little catchall phrases that seem to suggest one-dimensional answers to address our multifaceted questions. However, Proverbs also assumes, for better or for worse, that you already possess enough wisdom to know when to apply the very particular sorts of wisdom contained within its pages. Yet many of us were recommended Proverbs as though it were the book that contained the answers to all of life’s questions. And so you may ask, “What do I do for my suffering friend?” And Proverbs 31:6-7, my personal favorite proverb, will answer: “Let beer be for those who are perishing, wine for those who are in anguish! Let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.”[8] Perhaps my homebrewing is holier than I ever imagined. Anybody perishing? I’m supposed to give you beer.

Yet before reading Proverbs, I commend the book of Job, with all its darkness and gloom, to all of us, but especially to Generation Y. In Job, the man with a death wish, who accuses God of inaction[9], is the holy man. The ones who rush to try and defend God? God’s wrath is kindled against them. Job is a man of integrity; he asks the hard questions and will not take cheap answers. And at the end, after talking through his questions and hearing from God, Job is able to relent and be comforted, even in his pile of dust and ashes[10].

May we all ask our questions with sincerity, without being scared of God and may we all have Job’s integrity as we do so. May we remember that God is not scared of our questions. As a matter of fact, God wants our questions, and God is big enough to handle them. Please do not stop asking, because I believe that God will not stop listening.

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[1] I do not say “Bible School” with quotation marks as an attempt at mockery. I simply wish to indicate that the sort of Bible School my friends attended is not the same as what people experience when they go get a B.S. in Biblical Studies, or what one experiences as they pursue a seminary degree.

[2] These are not actual responses to actual questions they asked, but you may recognize the sentiment I am getting at.

[3] Saying America is “post-Christian” does not mean there are no more Christians. It means it is no longer safe to assume that because someone is an American they are also a Christian. In fairness, this was probably never a safe assumption.

[4] Job 3:3,20-21, 23b NRSV

[5] Job 6:4 NRSV

[6] Job 42:7 NRSV

[7] I do not mean here to segregate myself from the Church but rather to say that, though I love the Church, those in charge did not always handle our questions the best.

[8] Cited from the NIV because I love beer and it says beer instead of “strong drink.” This is, perhaps, a selfish and exegetically unfaithful move, but if you’re that much of a snob this is probably not where you go for top-tier biblical scholarship. Regardless, I think my point still stands.

[9] Job 19:7 and plenty of others.

[10] I here commend to you the Common English Bible’s translation of Job 42:6. The word “נָחַם” that is often translated as “repent” here is actually more often translated as “comfort” across its 128 occurrences in the Old Testament, and if you consider the line of argument that runs through the book of Job, it makes a lot more sense that way.

Top 10 Bands Who Are Helping CCM Not Suck

(If you just wanna hear about some great bands, feel free to skip my intro)

If you have at least one working ear and have been to a Sunday church service in the last ten years, you have probably noticed something. Much of the music you hear (primarily coming from Hillsong, Jesus Culture, and the like) sounds remarkably like U2 or Coldplay. Which is a kinda funny, because they pioneered a sound that most modern worship bands can’t get enough of. That vague, atmospheric guitar solo that doesn’t really have many single definite notes combined with ten million layers of synthesizer running behind it? Yep. U2, Coldplay, and certainly others I’m forgetting about, did it DECADES ago. Don’t believe me? Go check out “Where the Streets Have No Name” by U2, off of their Joshua Tree album, which came out in 1987. Sounds like the intro to a worship song eh? Well, for perspective, Chris Tomlin was 14 when that album dropped. He’s even done a cover of “Where the Streets Have No Name,” but let’s be real, there can only be one Bono.

Hear me on one thing before we proceed any further. I appreciate that Chris Tomlin, Hillsong, and the gang have written worship songs that have changed people’s lives. In fact, the name of my old blog was inspired by a moment that occurred while I saw Chris Tomlin playing at the Gorge. However, the reality is that so little variety is happening within the Christian music scene, I used to get angry about it approximately once a week. However, I am also very fortunate to have a found some gems over the last few years, and even a few really great ones just this year in 2014, that are giving me hope for Christian music.

If God is infinitely big, like the Church says he is and I believe he is, then shouldn’t the Church’s music reflect that reality? (I have some more developed thoughts on this that you can readabout here) Why, then, have we relegated ourselves to formulas? U2 and Coldplay had, and still have, great sounds. Making music inspired by theirs is great too. BUT we should be running a veritable buffet of musical goodness not exclusively dishing up Coldplay’s-Coldcut sandwiches. I’m over it!

Ok. Enough with the soapbox. This is my attempt to do something about it. Here’s the list, in order of bands that you are LEAST likely to have heard of first based on the (admittedly, fairly arbitrary scale of) number of likes their band page has on Facebook.

1.     Arthur Wachnik: I was blown away at first listen when it came to this guy. He spent some time hanging out with Romanian gypsy refugees and playing worship with them and the influence undoubtedly shows. The first song “Let Us Run” off his album of the same name sounds delightfully like Radiohead. The song’s first lyrics kick off the album perfectly: “Don’t ask me to settle down, I got a preacher’s fire, a gypsy’s song. I can’t keep trouble away, but if it wasn’t so, I’d be doing wrong.” This album is just about pure gold from top to bottom. My personal favorite is “Hold me Close,” a beautiful, desperate cry for God to come close. A close second is “Shield,” featuring a chorus of nearly militant voices chillingly claiming God as their protector. Best of all? His album is STILL free on Noisetrade.com

2.     Renee Swick: This lady has been a part of the great big musical Jesus party hosted by Enter the Worship Circle as well as being musical collaborators with Tim Coons (we’ll get to him next). Her piano driven style and sincere vocals make for a lovely combination. Unafraid to be a bit musically haunting on her album, I imagine her music will hook you pretty quick. In particular, I love the opening to her “Skin and Bones” album “Where is home where is home?”

3.     Tim Coons: Tim Coons has done a lot of things I love. I first heard him on Enter the Worship Circle’s Chair and Microphone vol. 4 album, which his song “Jaw” opened. To this day, it’s still my favorite Tim Coons song as his you can hear his desperate voice reaching out requesting “Arise Lord deliver me, oh my God, strike all of my enemies on the jaw.” A beautiful rendition of some of the Psalms that we are so often uncomfortable with. His most recent album Potomac is an album full of medleys that mix traditional hymns with some of his own songs and the songs of other Enter the Worship Circle artists. In particular his medley of “Trouble So Hard” with Aaron Strumpel’s “Twenty Three” has brought me to tears more than once. Guess what? This album is also free on Noisetrade.com

4.     The Whistles and The Bells: Facemelting, gutsy, bluesy, bluegrass. Bryan Simpson, formerly of Cadillac Sky, left said band when he found Jesus. Many expected a fade into obscurity, instead he dropped this absolute gem of an album. My one sentence description of this music is, “imagine Jack White as a Christian, and a bluegrass monster,” though that description doesn’t do it justice as he brings far more to the table than even that. He even got some of his old bandmates to play on the album, with Matt Menefee’s banjo solos being particularly stellar. The second track off his self-titled album “Transistor Resistor” details a great story of finding God in an unexpected place while providing banjo that will just about stop your heart over some ferocious drumming. On the opposite end of the spectrum “Last Night God Sang me a Song” is one of the sweetest off the album showing the impossibility of containing God with such fantastic lyrics as “It’s not the path it’s the transformation, that leads us out of the dark.” Also, thisalbum is STILL free on Noisetrade.com

5.     Liz Vice: As someone who grew up on predominantly blues and old school soul, Liz Vice’s solo album scratched an itch that had been getting at me for some time. You can feel the influence in the first few seconds of even the first song. I first heard her voice on The Followers’ “Wounded Healer” album where she ripped up a song entitled “Enfold Me,” and after hearing that for the first time, I was praying for a solo album from her. (The Followers are also an absolutely phenomenal group.) In particular, from her solo album, the song “Enclosed by You” which is driven by just her voice, a Rhodes piano, and a sweet bass drum and snaps beat will bring you into sweet, soulful, worshipful bliss. She is a part of the “Deeper Well” collective based out of Door of Hope church in Portland, OR. By the way, Deeper Well gives away all their music, which means you can also get this little gem for free online on Noisetrade.com.

6.     Aaron Strumpel: The third artist on my list from Enter the Worship Circle (hope that fives you a hint). The first song of his I heard was “Twenty Three” and it is a song I’ve played over and over in my personal worship time and it has torn me up on multiple occasions. Strumpel’s other material seems out there at times but so poignant and with plenty of musical genius worked in as well. His music is just about impossible to categorize by style. Start with “Blow out the Wick” off of his “Elephants” album and you’ll see what I mean. Likewise, “Grandma” off of his “Birds” album his a personal favorite for the rather tribal feel it ends with.

7.     Valley Maker: When I found out Austin Crane had moved to Seattle back in January, I was positively thrilled. Austin Crane put out a pair of albums under his own name before recording under the name Valley Maker. His first album, the culmination of an undergraduate honor’s project, features all music inspired by the book of Genesis. In particular the song “Abraham and Isaac,” a beautiful song about sacrifice, has brought me to tears on many occasions. His new album “Yes I Know I’ve Loved This World” is a rather different offering but no less wonderful. “The Mission” is a particular favorite off of that latter album. (Sadly, his music isn't presently on his site, but check back, you won't regret it)

8.     The Oh Hello’s: A delightful rowdy band offering up some really great folk music and a personal favorite band of more than a few of my friends. The opening song “The Valley” sets the tone for their “Through the Deep, Dark Valley” album perfectly. Their sound is somewhat The Head and The Heart-esque but totally original and full of musical gold nuggets that just about any person will enjoy. Honest lyrics are what really set them apart, alongside the fact that this is great road trip music. Yet again this is free on Noisetrade.com!

9.     Josh Garrels: I considered not including Josh Garrels on this list for the sheer fact that most folks have already heard of him and I am trying to help out some of the more fringe bands of the CCM world. However, on the off chance one person who reads this hasn’t heard of him, I figure one more person listening to Josh Garrels is a great thing. His music draws heavily from both folk and hip-hop and yet is quite unlike either. Seeing him alive is a memory I shall undoubtedly retain forever and his music has helped me through some of the heaviest moments of my life including depression and deep anger at God. Josh Garrels is also a part of the Deeper Well music collective and I hope that gives you another hint of where to find some great tunes.

10. listener: listener makes “talk music,” which is certainly not for everyone. Yet Dan Smith has written the only lyrics I have ever seriously considered getting tattooed on my body and I feel like that is definitely saying something. I don’t even know where to begin with listener other than to say that they are one of my all time favorite bands and I hope they never cease to exist. With bold, honest lyrical statements like “our church is all made of shipwrecks from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick ourselves up and try to grow better through these changes” you know that this man sees something deeper. I cannot recommend listener highly enough and I would encourage you, even if you don’t dig the style, give it a few listens and let listener’s lyrics sink in deep. In particular, the song “Wooden Heart” could seriously change your life.

After the shooting, we went to church and had a beer.

            On June 5th one man died and three others were injured by mindless violence right in the middle of the community that I love. SPU is a beautiful place both for the grounds that it occupies in the middle of Seattle, and for the imperfect but loving and gracious community it offers there. That day there was an assault on my beloved community. One man’s brokenness resulted in a brokenness that has spilled over to affect the 4200+ students that attend SPU, and the families of those students. Where can I, a humble seminarian, begin to talk about an event like a school shooting? I don’t presume the right to something to say in this situation, but I do have something I want to share: the beautiful response I observed.

            That night, after hearing about what took place, relentlessly checking the news, and having a few friends respond inappropriately to what had gone on, I went to church. By church I mean a bar in Fremont. Two of my closest friends were already there together and, after checking on me, wanted me to come down. As we sat together there was more silence than usual, more heaviness than usual, but those were the people I most wanted to be with. Those were my grieving partners. There were moments of tender embrace and there were moments of completely understood silence. We never prayed, though we could have, we never spoke “words of affirmation,” though we could have done that too; either would have been fine. Instead, we were together. We were the quiet table at the bar, loving each other in ways that words cannot, talking to God in ways most prayers don’t. I was with four of my favorite people on God’s green earth and “Church” looked like silent presence, the one awkward quiet table at the bar. This is the church I could not have been more thankful for. We eventually left the bar and went to my friend’s house to put aside what was going on. None of us could really forget, but we collectively failed to remember for a little while as we did our best to laugh a little, and that was holy in and of itself.

            It was a blessing and a curse to be able to pull out my phone and see the latest update. A blessing because I could be up to date in an instant. A curse because this instantaneous knowledge had me constantly desiring to know names and what had happened and so on and so forth. At the same time, the fact that my Facebook feed was filled with people sharing articles and asking for prayer was evidence to me of social media at its finest. My people were saying things like, “My community is broken. Please pray.” Evidence that the one word I have cynically taken for granted most in the world of social media is still able to carry very significant weight for those people who are in the midst of their worst days: praying. The word started to mean something as those I love directed this word towards me and mine.

            At some point in this whole event I realized, at seminary we talk about weighty stuff all the time. Theodicy, racism, sexism, disability etc. etc. etc. This time though, theodicy meant something. What does it mean to me that God is all good AND all-powerful AND a shooting just happen in the middle of the community that I love with all of my heart AND he could have stopped it? Suddenly, seminary became 10billion times more than just an academic venture. Suddenly, it seemed that those out-there, vague, hard-to-deal-with concepts were becoming far more real than I had ever hoped they would be… and I know that life will continue to make them real for me as time continues. And I hope that I have a church just like the one I was with at that little bar in Fremont.

            Where is God in the midst of all of this? Three places. First, in the moment when I asked my housemate, who had been previously oblivious, to pray for me, and he did with all the love in his heart. Second, in the sentiment in my heart and in others’ that said, “No matter how unjust and wrong this is, I still want mercy and grace to come together with justice for this man. There was something more going on inside him.” Finally, and most clearly, in the beautiful response that has come from the SPU community as a whole, which I am not the only one raving about.

            Sitting there at the bar with my friends in Fremont, we had our tiny, beautiful community where honesty and grief were equally welcomed, as they often are among close friends. For a while, the music in the background was erratically changing between punk rock and soft folk. When I asked the waitress the favor of changing it to something a little softer, or at least more consistent, she happily obliged and the first song to play was Bill Withers’ “Lean on Me.” There has never been a worse, more cliché time for that song to play and there has also never been a better time for that song to play. I will never forget the one-part joy one-part grief tears that streamed as we smiled and sang together:

“You just call on your brother,

when you need a hand,

we all need somebody, to lean on.”

The community I love oh so deeply has been assaulted and I don’t know what to do about it.

May God be with the SPU community, Sarah Williams, Thomas Fowler, John Meis, the shooter Aaron Ybarra, and their families, and especially with the family of Paul Lee, the young man who died. If you are the praying type I would ask you to pray for my community as we prepare to take finals despite the tragedy, the families of all the affected, and for Aaron Ybarra. He is clearly a broken man and needs God’s hand just like the rest of us. Even if you don’t pray, please remember that he is a human being, just like you, even if he has failed to see others that way.

If God is not boring, how come church is?

This has been an interesting week for me as a result of one small suggestion from God. As I was considering how “wide open” my future presently is, I suddenly felt the inclination that he had something particular in mind for me. I was thinking about the possibilities available to me after I complete seminary, some require a little more schooling, others I could do right away. Since starting seminary I have thought about being a teacher, a nurse, an occupational therapist, a career musician, a professor, and numerous other options. Interestingly, I realized that I had not ever thought as deeply about being a pastor as I likely ought to. Funny how we seminarians operate.

            The word that came to mind for me as I was considering all these other options was “settling.” There is nothing at all wrong with being a teacher, nurse, or whatever, but for me, I may very well be settling. I have had a great many moments in which I have been seriously unimpressed with the church and usually these moments correlate with thoughts along the lines of, “how can we do better” and “how can the church look more like Jesus” and “what did they expect this message to communicate other than the antithesis of the gospel?” As something of a prophetic mind, I find myself operating as the critic over and over and have not, lately, found myself in the reformer/creative/implementer-of-change’s chair at all.

            I love the Church with all my heart, and with how poorly I see it operating all around me my gut reaction is to say, “Hope is lost, nothing can be done to save her, all we can do now is try to bow out gracefully and go do guerilla Christianity elsewhere.” So much of my soul wants to duck out of the church and pass my time with a few friends who believe hard and see the same issues going on that I see going on. The appeal of what I call guerilla Christianity is it makes you responsible to a few people for maintaining a relationship with the most high, without having to sit through sermons that are neither inspiring, nor formative, nor informative and without having to sit through worship that feels shallow and redundant.

            I love the Church with all my heart and I want to see her “walk” what she is “talking.” We say God is infinite, so why are we repeating so many things (sermons, songs, ideas, mistakes) if there is, literally, infinitely more to say. That is infinite “talk” followed up with numerically insignificant “walk.” If God is truly infinite, I should never have to hear the same sermon twice, let alone dozens of times. Often it seems underestimations of God are the cause, other times it seems an excessive commitment to people pleasing is the cause, and still other times incompetent leaders seem to be the cause. But no matter the cause, it seems we still sell ourselves short of what we could do when God is with us.

            And then all of this ends up looking like a gun sight narrowly focused on me and demanding, “so what are you going to do about it?” At first I think I cannot do anything, so I bow out; I’ll go do my faith thing over here and see what happens. Yet, lately, it seems like, as I feel the sight focused on me, I have to say, “Well, I guess I can try and do it the way it should be done. I do not know what that is, but I’ll commit to trying to figure it out and do whatever it seems it is that we are supposed to do.”

            This relatively recent feeling of a “call” to the church is uncomfortable, impractical, and also more “right” feeling than most I have experienced in my life. I do not want to work in a church because I know that I will, if I am true to myself and to God, fight so many uphill battles. If I am a pastor people will be angry, people will be offended, and people will question what they believe. And I think the Church should be angry, offended, and questioning much more often than we are, we accept simplification so easily.

            I wish I remembered the exact words of a highly valued friend as he encouraged me on my 23^rd birthday. It was something to the effect of, “Kendrick you offend me, but you force me to ask more questions and to dig deeper.”

            May we all, myself wholeheartedly included, dig a little deeper.