It's easy to condemn the celebritizing of our culture. Everything we (the societal we - you can self-righteously exempt yourself at whatever point you wish) do revolves around professional celebrities. (Kim Kardashian made more money from the release of her cell phone game than any actual artist will make from their work this entire year.) Our celebrity-obsessed media culture sets the tone for life - what's cool, what's important, what's "news" - and it's all, essentially, a facade. Celebrity culture is marketing - it's fake.
I can remember the sadness I felt as a teenager when I discovered that even the "personalities" our favorite stars exhibit when on the couch with Kimmel or Fallon is an act. We don't ever get to know the "real" people because we don't actually have relationships with these people. I mentioned to my wife just this week how, in my memories, Gwyneth Paltrow always seemed so cool and now she seems, at best, really odd - never thinking that perhaps her life got busy enough and complicated enough that the maintaining of her public image isn't a top priority any longer.
Ultimately this is about depersonalization. We don't want our celebrities to be people - we want them to feed our egos. We want celebrities we love unconditionally - Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are insanely beautiful people who found each other and travel the world helping poor people; it doesn't make sense that she'd get married in an ugly dress simply because her kids helped design it. The notion that her family means more than our image of her makes Jolie a person, and that makes us uncomfortable.
We'd be incredibly uncomfortable knowing as much about our neighbors as we know about our favorite athletes and actors. We'd either feel creepy for knowing so much or uncomfortable because there'd be some expectation of reciprocal life unveiling. We don't want people to know that much about us - they might not like us, they might point out all the faults we're already well aware of and secretly beat ourselves up over ever night as we cry ourselves to sleep.
To treat someone like a person is to be included in everything - and frankly, most of us are pretty messed up people. Celebrities can't be themselves on TV because real people are boring and strange and troubled and ultimately uninteresting (and just in case you want to go that direction, the people on Jerry Springer are just as much depersonalized characterizations, they're just otherwise anonymous ones).
But what really made my heart sink was the realization that our society has depersonalized itself. I came to this tragic conclusion reading some of the stories about the recent dump of hacked celebrity cell phone pictures. I was intrigued because this seemed to be getting far more media coverage than the typical leak. It is because of the sheer volume - several dozen (some accounts more than a hundred) female (and it's always female for some reason) celebrities had nude or risque pictures and videos released to the wild. There was also a groundswell of opposition - reminding the public that these people are indeed people and it's an invasion to even look at the pictures.
Despite that warning, a lot of the articles had samples - albeit with blacked out eyes and digitally imposed modesty bars. I didn't even recognize most of the names, let alone out-of-context necks and midriffs, but what I found most shocking is that these celebrities, in their most private and intimate moments, assumed the same poses our kids do when snapping a selfie.
With the salacious parts properly covered, few of the photos I saw looked any different than those these women are paid to pose for. They've essentially participated in the mass depersonalization for so long, it's shaped and formed them as much as it has the rest of society. There was nothing natural or normal about these pictures - no one looked like they were taking candids in the privacy of their hotel rooms - even if they were.
I've talked before about how some of our societal problems we created ourselves, but have now grown so large than we're incapable of actually defeating them. Things like hunger, homelessness, violence, etc. It's part of the reason I believe in God; I recognize humanity's inability to fix itself, even if we're the cause of our own problems.
Selfishness is nothing new - and that's exactly what this sexualized depersonalization is: a feeding of our own selfish desires. When I think about the kind of girl I wanted to date when I was sixteen, it was usually someone who could exist in my life without challenging or changing it. I wanted someone who looked pleasant and attractive at all times, someone who liked the same things I did, someone who understood me completely and always knew what I wanted or needed. In short: I wanted someone to indulge me. I didn't want someone who possessed traits and abilities I lacked, I wanted someone who would give me what I wanted, but didn't have.
In growing up, getting married and staying that way, I've realized the most important thing in another person is a different perspective. My wife and I are frustratingly different. I never know what to expect or how she thinks. I guess I'm better at it than I used to be, but in many ways we're still struggling to live together well - because real relationships involve real people. Real people are sometimes tired, stressed out, and unpleasant. They push you to think differently; they expect you to change and adapt to the world around you. They won't be content to give and give without getting something in return - relationships take two invested people.
Our society has long fought that notion, because it's bad for business. Selfish indulgence makes money. It makes money because selfishness is never satisfied. We want more and whatever we get isn't enough. At some point, this was an intentional ploy by marketers - tapping into our insatiable desire to drive the economy - but I wonder if now, it's just an uncontrollable force. I'm not even sure those perpetuating it - the actors, directors, producers, advertisers - even realize what they're doing any more. Clearly these actresses come by it naturally - or they learn to do so very quickly, not just in front of the professional cameras, but in front of their own as well.
This doesn't excuse the invasion of privacy or the continued depersonalization that dominates the comment sections of these stories. But it does, I think, move the problem from one of "us and them" to one that we all have to own.
Disclaimer: I was given a free copy of this book for the purpose of review. My integrity is not for sale. Those who know me well are aware I would relish the chance to give a bad review in exchange for a free book. If I've failed to do so, it has nothing to do with the source of the material and only with the material itself.
So, I was tricked by the puzzles. I've got a pretty good understanding of how Tim Lahaye views scripture - Revelation in particular - and I know full well we don't agree. In fact, I'd characterize my perception of his theology prior to reading this book as "dangerous" and "tragically comical."
So, you may ask, why did you agree to review the book you knew you were going to hate? The answer, of course, is the puzzles. I saw that USA Today puzzle master, Timothy Parker was a co-author and the online summary I saw specifically mentioned "puzzles." I like puzzles, even ones involving crack-pot theology, so I figured it was worth a try - at the very least the puzzles would be fun.
However, when the book came, I realized I'd been duped. I'm sure it was unintentional, but instead of puzzles, there were quizzes - 77 sets of multiple choice questions attempting to implant all of Lahaye's wild ramblings into a reader's brain with no real thought or challenge. Nothing puzzle-like at all.
So, I made myself slog through the book (it's only fair if I'm to review it) and I found it sloppy, to say the least. The content of the book is extremely sparse - besides the quizzes before and after each section, the text of Revelation is recorded in small chunks (but including the entirety of the book) followed by Lahaye's explanation of each section. It is clearly a play to sell books by repackaging things he's previously written. The formatting is occasionally in error - in one section they keep the font used for scripture quotation for an entire section of interpretation (in what may be a Freudian slip). Even if I thought there was any worthwhile scholarship in this book, I'd still consider it a rip-off to anyone but Lahaye completists (and I'm sure they do exist out there somewhere).
The interpretation section seems entirely disconnected from the canon of scripture, only using the text itself to re-enforce some mystical armageddon plan existing in the ether somewhere. Antichrist and tribulation feature prominently, as well as Russia, Iran, and a host of odd topical connections. The interpretation is dizzingly hard to follow, even for someone trained in biblical studies and theology, it skips key references, passages, and "symbols" in places where they appear inconvenient to the narrative. He raises far more questions than he answers, making the title of the book a cruel joke, if not an outright lie.
There are plenty of scholarly works dealing with Revelation, ones that include cultural and social references pertinent to the original hearers, rather than creating speculative futuristic predictions with no basis in reality. I was impressed how often Lahaye picked up on and noted references to other parts of scripture, even if he butchered their interpretations even more egregiously than those of Revelation itself.
Revelation is often thought to be "coming true" in each generation specifically because it was written to mark out the real struggle to live the gospel in the midst of the world. Each Christian and congregation can recognize itself within this book specifically because that is the intention. It is not a book of fear and prediction as Lahaye would argue, but one of hope and faith, affirming the faith and perseverance of the Church despite any obstacles that can and do arise.
If a reader wants a decent treatment of the topics in Revelation on an easily readable scale, I'd recommend Answers for Chicken Little by Dan Boone - for a deeper treatment of heaven, hell, and the end times, perhaps NT Wright's Surprised by Hope would be an option.
If you extend the theology inherent in this book out to its logical conclusion, Lahaye seems to believe that salvation is not ultimately won until the end of days. For him, it appears, Jesus' work on the cross was solely atonement and that salvation is yet to come. There's a good chance this puts him outside historic, orthodox faith, if not grounded distinctly in heretical teaching.
The Book of Revelation Made Clear is a true travesty. While many people lap up this drivel, it is a sure sign of a publisher willing to sell out for profit over the exercise of sound judgment and moral or theological clarity. Lahaye simply makes no sense; even those who share his perspective on the predictive powers of Revelation deserve a better, more thorough treatment than this book provides. It's truly shameful. Don't buy it. I've already recycled my free copy so no one can claim it from the one dollar bin at Goodwill.
Also, there were no puzzles. I was promised puzzles.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com® book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
I think about the historical example of medieval China. The Chinese had a bigger, stronger, more capable fleet of sailing ships than anything in Europe. They regularly traded as far as the eastern coast of Africa before Columbus was even born. At some point, though, Chinese leadership decided it was better to focus domestically and gave up sailing the seas with the same intensity.
If things had gone differently - if China had continued to expand its empire - likely it would have been Chinese vessels rounding the Cape of Good Hope rather than Vasco Da Gama coming the other way. The Chinese might have established trading hubs in Lisbon or Portsmouth rather than the Portuguese and British in Macao and Hong Kong. History would have been quite different.
Empire is not strictly about size, but the way in which we leverage that size or even the pursuit of size (and accompanying power) itself.
While reading Van Steenwyk's book, I couldn't help but think of the evangelical church of the past thirty years. My tribe, specifically, was caught up in what's known as the Church Growth Movement, in fact, for a while our motto was, "Our Church Can Be Your Home." We had incentive to bring in as many people as possible - and pretty free rein to do it in any way that produced results.
This lead to worship services as entertainment, professional staff pastors catering to different interest groups and filling the social calendar. It led to a more passive membership (nothing too serious, then people might leave). It also led to huge attendance increases and greater influence.
It really is the Spirit of Empire. Bigger is better. More people, more attention, more influence. What's the harm when we're influencing for good?
What we didn't learn too well in the 70's is that the medium is the message - the way we bring people in is the ethic to which we're converting them. Church Growth strategies worked really well because they tapped into the natural inclination of American culture - a culture already steeped in Empire.
The US has been essentially running the world since the 1940's. Our empire isn't geographic like the British Empire of yore, but it's political and economic. Our size produced influence, expansion, growth. Our consumerism feeds the beast, as it were, pushing the notion of empire.
Our congregations played right into this. The political power of the Religious Right gave voice to people who always thought themselves a silent majority. TV brought exposure for preachers with charisma and media savvy. Sunday worship became a competition for the eyes and ears of people. It was only natural.
That doesn't make it good.
Our desire to conquer is a cultural desire, it's bred into us from the moment we're born. We need to recognize it, name it, and renounce it. As Christ's people, we're not conquerors - at least not in the way of Empire. On the cross, Jesus conquered by losing, by confusion, by demanding so much of his followers they all ran away.
Every opportunity Jesus had to take hold of power or force, he ran from. Empire is not the way of the Kingdom. There's nothing wrong with a large congregation, but beware our attempts to become one.
China never ceased to be influential. They lost the power of position they might otherwise have held. Those nations which embraced the Spirit of Empire came and conquered, carrying off riches and knowledge that China might otherwise have capitalized on. Choosing against Empire was a choice away from self-determination (whether they knew it or not).
Empire is a great way to retain control. Of course, human control of anything has never really worked out well; it's certainly never been part of God's ideal plan for life on this planet. Superintendency, service, yes - God gave us a lead role to play - but always one in service of the other.
Empire is a spirit of self-promotion. We often fool ourselves into thinking our aims are pure - freedom, justice, democracy, evangelism, morality - but in the end, what speaks louder than our motives are our actions.
The medium is the message. Not great size and strength, but humility and service.
Seriously, stop trying to change the world. It doesn't work that way. People are people and they're pretty tired of do-gooders telling them how to live their lives. This isn't a joke; I'm not being sarcastic. It isn't a satire. I'm not trying to prove a point. If you really want the world to be different, stop trying to change it.
If you want to change the world, love people. Love them - treat them fairly, do nice things for people, even when you're not obligated. Care for people, even if they repay you with hate and violence. Yes, yes - by all means throw birthday parties for prostitutes and eat lunch with homeless drunks - but you could also make dinner for the single mom next door so she's got one less thing on her plate. Stop and talk with that annoying neighborhood kid instead of just yelling for him to get out of your way.
You're never going to lecture or harangue bad actions out of people. Either they know what they're doing is wrong and lack the support to stop or they're perfectly happy with whatever it is that bugs you - and telling them its wrong is only going to harden their resolve.
For the most part, people do what they think is best in the world. They'll change if they think something else works out better for them.
If you want to change the world, just live differently. Give people an example of some alternative way of life working out really well - and don't throw it in their faces. If you're living well to spite someone else, you're not living well.
Sadly, as a pastor, the worst people at doing this sort of thing seem to be Christians. We like to lecture, harass, wield guilt trips, and all sort of other nefarious nonsense to get people to "behave." We like to play morality police - which is ultimately just a power trip.
The gospel - this "good news" we're supposed to be all about - it doesn't say anything about doing the right things, thinking the right thing, or even being a generally decent person. The good news that Christians are supposed to be sharing with the world is simply that each and every one of us is loved unconditionally. Everyone is good enough, honorable, dignified, worthy of respect. The whole point of God dying in a gruesome, humiliating way was to prove how deep God's love is for each and every person - not after they clean up their act or in the innocence of youth, but at their worst, lowest, weakest, most hate-filled selves.
What's more, there is no prerequisite for change.
There's no condition (that's sort of what the word "unconditional" means). There is no fine print, no underlying agreement - if I accept this love, then I'm obligated to do ______________________. That's not how it works.
God loves you.
That's it.
You don't have to change a thing.
Now, my experience has been - both personally and in observance of others - when someone really internalizes that reality - not just intellectually understands the concept, but really comes to accept, deep inside them, that this love is indeed real and indeed unconditional - that people do change.
We cannot be loved unconditionally and remain the same.
This is why I believe love can change the world - not because I am persuasive or any more correct in my morality than anyone else, but because I believe this kind of love is world changing and I don't feel any obligation to change anyone else.
I happen to believe in a loving, compassionate, present God - one who works in the world in real, tangible ways. I believe this is the who not only professes, but lives the kind of outrageous, radical, no-strings-attached kind of love I mention here.
I happen to believe that when people experience this love, they're different. Change happens. It may not always happen in the ways I expect or even the ways I think is best - which is, well, probably a very good thing.
I have no problem talking to people about my choices, my morality, and why I do the things I do. I enjoy it greatly. But I don't expect those reasons to apply to anyone, but me. Don't get me wrong, I love it when people agree with me. I really, really, really enjoy being called "right" by other people. I have a strong desire for reassurance and praise - but I certainly don't expect anyone to agree with me.
I do what I think is right because I think it's right. I sure hope everyone else does the same. Man, I would feel really terrible if people did things I told them to do, simply because I told them to do it. I don't need that kind of power. I don't deserve that kind of power. I'm not sure why so many people in this world seem to think they do.
I might ask you why you do something you do - why you think it best. I've been told (and I'll admit) I often do this in ways that sound accusatory or judgmental. I promise, I don't mean it that way and I'm trying to get better. Usually, I am genuinely curious as to why people choose what they choose and what it says about underlying beliefs. I'm very curious about why people come to different conclusions than me and, specifically, if they've found some rationale or argument I missed along the way.
It's a wonderful thing for people to talk about why they do what they do, about how we decided what is the best way to live in the world. That excites me to no end.
I just can't fathom how people move from that genuine inquiry to the notion that they know the right answer.
I guess, even in saying that unconditional love is the right answer, I'm violating this rule. That might be true. I'd be happy to talk to people about why it seems best to me (hint: it's mostly because the other options, even if they're more believable, are sad and boring to me). Ultimately, though, there's one thing I do know (but feel free to disagree):
You don't change the world by telling people what to do. No one likes that. Live out what you believe - give people an example - and see if that is convincing enough to affect change. If it's not, well, maybe you're not living out exactly what you thought you were.
The world is a great mirror. Sometimes the things we most dislike out there are the things we most need to change in us.
This short story by Mark Twain popped up in two books I read last week; both found it important enough to quote large sections of it verbatim. It is a timeless and difficult piece of writing. It seems fitting to share:
It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fulttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory with stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener.
It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came — next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams — visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender!
Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation:
God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest,
Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!
Then came the “long” prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory —
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher’s side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, “Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord and God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside — which the startled minister did — and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
“I come from the Throne — bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import — that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of — except he pause and think. “God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two — one uttered, and the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this — keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon your neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain on your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse on some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
“You have heard your servant’s prayer — the uttered part of it. I am commissioned by God to put into words the other part of it — that part which the pastor — and also you in your hearts — fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard the words ‘Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!’ That is sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory — must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
“Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth into battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended in the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames in summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it —
For our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimmage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet!
We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(After a pause.) “Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits.”
…
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.
The entirety of the piece can be found on its own, dedicated website.
