It Takes a Community
On Wednesday I had the opportunity to hear Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian in New York City, speak to a packed house here in Nashville about his new book, The Prodigal God. After giving an outline of the book, he spent the rest of his time showing how his thesis applied to community. After exhorting us towards honest community and away from comfortable religion - “Religiosity presents no opportunity for people to be sinners,” he read us from Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together - he said, “Most people haven’t been affirmed enough to be good repenters.” Put another way, all too often cries of judgement drown out the whispers of grace, and we respond by hiding our failures and forsaking the commandment to confess our sins to one another, an unavoidable facet of true community.
When talking about the garden of Eden, Keller said, “Nakedness is a term used in the Bible about a lack of ease we have with ourselves.”
There was one statement in particular Keller made that has stuck with me. In one of Frederick Buechner’s books, Buechner writes about a sermon that he “will always remember though I cannot be sure that is exactly the sermon he preached because of course it is the sermons we preach to ourselves around the preacher’s sermons that are the ones that we hear most powerfully.” The sermon that I was “preaching to myself” in between the lines of Keller’s sermon included a quote from Larry Crabb that a friend of mine, Tom Darnell, shared in a couple of sermons he preached last year: “The greatest lie believed today is that one can know God without being known by someone else.”
Connecting the sermon I was “preaching to myself” with Keller’s sermon was a passage he read us from C.S. Lewis’ The Four Loves where Lewis explains why two is not the best number for friendship, because, “In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets.” Keller then said, “If it takes a community to really know a human being, how much more does it take a community to know God?”
It seems everywhere I look these days I’m reminded of the soul-searing danger of avoiding community and my absolute helplessness on my own.
A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
I just finished a book that upon closing it, I felt like it finished me in a sense. A quiet meditative book that reached down and stirred the deep waters in me. It’s Marilynne Robinson’s 2005 Pulitzer prize winner Gilead, given to me by my friend Andrew Peterson.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
Do you know if Keller’s talk is posted anywhere - either audio, or in transcribed form? I’d like to hear or read the rest…
Man, I wish I’d have been in town for that.
I remember being surprised at how little regard I had for confession when I read that chapter in Life Together. What a great reminder. Thanks Stephen. And if Keller’s talk is posted, I’d also be interested to know about it.
Absolutely, I agree. I, too, have been reminded time after time lately for our need for community - for church. “Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Heb 10:25
Keller’s sermon “The Prodigal God” that the book comes from is on the book’s website, and the Christ Pres. website says his talk from Wednesday will be posted soon. I’ll post the link here when it’s up.
Stephen,
Tim Keller is a huge influence on our community outreach here at Perimeter Church in Atlanta — in particular the ideas he outlines in his book “Ministries Of Mercy.” That book has had a big impact on my heart. I also love Bonhoeffer’s “Life Together.” In that book he spends a good bit of time discussing the idea of confessing our sins one to another as crucial to building authentic community. It is an excellent treatment of the subject.
Your quote: “The greatest lie believed today is that one can know God without being known by someone else.” Plus the excerpt from Lewis reminded me of another line from him — sounds like its in the same book: “Only in our friendships can we develop into the man we are supposed to be. It takes someone else to pull the full man out and pull the full man up.”
Thanks for the exhortation and affirmation of building community – both in our local churches and wonderful spots like this one. This inspired me to go back and listen to Steve Brown’s interview with Tim: http://stevebrownetc.com/podcasts/steve-brown-etc/the-reason-for-god-tim-keller-on-sbe/
Do you know if this is a series of books he is writing? Seems like this is a follow up to “The Reason For God.”
I cannot more highly recommend Keller’s book, The Prodigal God. It currently sits here on my wife’s desk, and we are trying to facilitate an email discussion within our extended families about the book (which they all received as an extra Christmas Gift this year).
I think the message of this book, which is essentially the message of Christ in what Keller calls, The Parable of the Two Lost Sons (i.e. the parable formally known as The Prodigal Son), is extremely relevant for our Christian culture where being a Christian and is pretty much understood as “cleaning up your life and trying to live moral.” Keller’s insights into the Elder brother in the parable are incredibly revealing of the legalism and wrongly motivated morality that pervades most of the American church (me included as the chief). My wife and I have been (are being) profoundly affected by its teachings, and have experienced more joy and freedom in the Gospel as a result.
Mark,
Thanks for the thumbs up. I’m listenning to the message on the link Stephen gave http://theprodigalgod.com/ (under Prodigal God Audio) and he gives a message on this text and talks about the two brothers. A powerful message indeed.
Tony-
Yes, brother a powerful message indeed. I am so thankful for Tim Keller’s ministry. Through his preaching, God has been reteaching us the Gospel and how it changes us. My heart’s desire and life ministry is to pass along the comfort that we have been comforted with amidst affliction. So…. anyone interested, please check out some free online sermons at Keller’s church website: http://sermons.redeemer.com/store
I want to particularly recommend the sermon entitled: Inside-Out Living.
Thanks:)
What I do fear, is that though it’s important to have honesty in the Christian community, I often fear the wolfs in the midst of sheep. When we confess our sins to someone in the church that isn’t really a believer, it’s dangerous. I bring this to mind because I had done that at one period of time, I was quick to trust and quick to confess and relieve my heart to experience forgiveness. The other member took advantage of my weakness, and the other person was even a Christian! A young Christian yes, lost and saved by grace as I have been, but one who was in a lost period of reprobation and running from God. Afterwards, though I wish we were open and free to confess and trust one another, I maybe fear more than I should who I’m sharing my heart with. Will they take advantage of it or are they a believer who are good stewards who correct and encourage? It’s a sad and difficult subject to consider.
J. Austin,
One of the cures for misuse of information in the way you describe is an overall transparency that permeates our lives. That way we don’t have a facade that can be used as a weapon against us. Since we’re open and honest with everyone, no one will be surprised. No one will be able to take advantage of it. Of course the only way to really develop this transparent honesty is by caring so much more about God’s thoughts of us than man’s. A man’s transparency, used by the Holy Spirit, is a sort of handle for others to find Christ in a deeper way in their own lives.
It is of course crucial to find committed, mature believers who can mentor us and help us to see things more clearly. Talking about a besetting sin (especially the more sensual varieties like food or sex or drink) with an immature believer is not a good idea.If we desire fresh wisdom rather than commiseration we will seek out long-time, mature Spirit-led mentors. Sometimes we tell others our problems not really wanting solutions or changes in our thinking but sympathy, especially if we have a propensity for self-pity.
In my own life I have found community absolutely crucial to growth. A few years ago I found a local church, and then a Wed night fellowship group, and have experienced more growth in my life in this season than in a very long time. Lone wolf Christianity, although attractive to one’s ego, is not really a viable option; having been there and done that I can speak freely from experience. Yes, I had Tozer and A.B. Simpson and Norman Grubb and C.S. Lewis and George MacDonald, but I also need people in my life who will be sounding boards, iron sharpening iron, servants, and who will let me serve them as well. That Body life is essential - the foot can’t say to the hand, “I don’t need you.”
A George MacDonald quote from Lilith to end
“What right have you to treat me so, Mr. Raven?” I said with deep offence. “Am I, or am I not, a free agent?”
“A man is as free as he chooses to make himself, never an atom freer,” answered the raven.
“You have no right to make me do things against my will!”
“When you have a will you will find that no one can.”
“You wrong me in the very essence of my individuality!” I persisted.
“If you were an individual I could not, therefore now I do not. You are but beginning to be an individual.”
Here’s the link to stream Keller’s talk from last Wednesday here in Nashville: http://media.christpres.org/cpc/audio/2009/Keller_1-28-09.m3u
Tony, as I understand it, The Prodigal God is not part of a series with The Reason for God. They were both published close to each other just because he’d been working on both of them for several years. He has said, though, that The Prodigal God was written more for Christians, while The Reason for God has non-believers as its primary target audience.
Keller preached a series of sermons called The Prodigal Son and the Elder Brother that were instrumental in my understanding of the Gospel. I was thrilled when I saw that the book The Prodigal God, which addresses these same issues was out. You can find these at http://sermons.redeemer.com/store/index.cfm?fuseaction=product.display&Product_ID=18232.