About The Shack

I don't read fiction. I just feel that there are enough true narratives out there to keep me busy, that I have little use for fiction. Plus, if I want a fake story, I can pop in a DVD and be finished in a couple of hours. This is just one reason among many that will keep me from reading the new book The Shack by William Young. But because it's becoming somewhat of a Christian phenomenon, I've tried to familiarize myself with it. So anything I state here should be taken with the understanding that I haven't actually read the book [well, the first chapter is on the web, so I did read that], but I'm not convinced that my ignorance should prohibit me from commenting about it.

Here's the quick synopsis from the publisher:

Mackenzie Allen Philips’ youngest daughter, Missy, has been abducted during a family vacation and evidence that she may have been brutally murdered is found in an abandoned shack deep int he Oregon wilderness. Four years later in the midst of his Great Sadness, Mack receives a suspicious note, ostensibly from God, inviting him back to that shack for a weekend.

So when Mack goes to the Shack [seriously] he gets to spend a weekend with the Trinity. Of course, the author has to anthropomorphize the Godhead, so The Father becomes an older African American woman, Jesus is a Middle-Eastern looking guy, and the Holy Spirit is Asian lady. Apparently, the weekend is spent in deep conversation where Mack finally forgives God and the murderer. Basically, it's a theological, fictional narrative that's supposed to teach people about the Trinity.

Like I said, I've not read the book, but based upon various reviews I've examined, I have a few observations.

1. The most important thing to understand is that theological fiction is a ridiculous genre. I know that many of you love to read that kind of informational fiction, but when you try to make truth digestable in the form of metaphor, you end up with useless mush. Remember the way The DaVinci Code claimed it was based on a true story? In the months that followed, scholars ripped its claims to shreds. But there are probably thousands of people walking the face of the earth who read Dan Brown's book and think it's actually true.

It was the same thing with Tim LaHaye's Left Behind series. Christians ate those books up, and many people think that his view of the end of the world is how it will really happen. If people could read these books and just be content to have enjoyed it is recreational fiction, I'd be fine with it. Unfortunately, people can't [or won't] distinguish between truth and fiction and I end up having to de-program people and explain what the Scriptures actually say about an issue.

2. One of the reasons people like these books is that it makes the reader think that he's more knowledgable without having to wade through any heavy research. One reviewer on Amazon wrote,

This book quickly became one of my most favorite books of all time. I have wanted to share this with everyone I know with the statement: "THIS is who God is and what He's REALLY like!!"

So one piece of fiction nails who God really is? Look, I've spent the past few weeks studying through deep theological writings and it's kicked my tail. I would much rather prefer to read a 200 page story to glean this information but if I want something worthwhile it's just not possible. For thousands of years theologians and philosophers have been contemplating the nature of God and William Young nailed it? The blessing to the theological fiction writer is that he never has to leave research footnotes. So the interpretation offered by the author is not necessarily orthodox Christianity but whatever he thinks Christianity should be.

Allow me to explain it like this: some people tend to hate science and math and prefer arts and stories. Likewise, some believers who disdain intellectual, systematic theology gravitate towards The Shack approach where it's all boiled down to a pretty story. But interestingly enough, when it comes to your house or car or the airplane you're flying in, you're hoping that people who assembled it used blueprints and/or schematics as a guide, rather than a watercolor painting. Even though you might not like those things that are difficult to understand, there is definitely a place for it. Why won't people tolerate that when it comes to God?

3. Some people love these books because it seems like a new expression of the Christian faith. Removed is any sense of staleness the accompanies "traditional Christianity" and people become enamored with a fresh way to live the Christian life. Therefore people will cling to it, and claim this is the God that they want to hear about. And then they get pissed off at their church because it isn't enough like The Shack. Many will claim that the book pushed them forward in their relationship with God, but I would speculate that it actually transported them into an understanding of God that isn't necessarily true. But since it's enjoyable, it's gotta be right, eh?

Wrapping things up, I'm not saying that everything is terrible about this book. In fact, I hear that it makes some powerful points. But if you're thinking of restructuring your entire Christian faith to conform it to the philosophy of The Shack, then we probably need to talk. These kinds of books are fads [remember Jabez?]. It'll be something new next year. So don't get caught up in the hype and go read the Chronciles of Narnia instead.

By the way, if someone wants to lend me a used copy of the book, I'll do a thorough examination. For a more detailed review [by someone who actually read the book], check out Tim Challies reflections here.

UPDATE: Of course, my college buddy Greg not only knows the guys behind the book but also designed the book's website. He vouches for the guys and has been following closely the controversy closely. You can read his brief thoughts here and here. Additionally, one of the guys behind the book wrote a defense article of the book here.

Looking back at what I wrote earlier, I think my criticism doesn't lie as much with the work itself as much as how people have reacted to the book— in some instances treating it as salvific. I would suppose this is no fault of the author, but in our hyperactive culture, we need to talk about balance constantly. All this insures that I'll definitely have to get my copy of the book and see what I think.

Disappointing . . .

 . . . that no one's chimed in about Derby horses. A little too high-brow for y'all? Well let's bring it back to the people and go where I've seldom gone yet this year:

American Idol.

Talk about disappointing.

This is absolutely the worst season I can ever remember. All of the hype about how good this season would be was just that— hype. Just look at the front runners to win this thing:

David Archeleta [not even caring if I spelled it right]: Sure, the kid has a decent voice [not as fantastic as everyone thinks], but his awkwardness makes Taylor Hicks look normal. Can you tell Simon is secretly rooting for him to lose because he knows that no one will buy those albums?

The other David [no, I haven't bothered learning his last name]: Yeah, he's had some good performances, but it's feast or famine. He can be really bad. I think he's popular because he reminds people of Daughtry, but he's no Daughtry. I'm not sure he'll have much of a career either.

In short, this season's been a waste. As I've testified before, the DVR hooks us into this show, but I'm at the point where I'm ready to quit. Doesn't really matter who wins. It's starting to feel like the Reds:

Wait 'till next year.

So pick a Derby horse already.

Pick Your Horse

The Kentucky Derby is Saturday. I love it. Some year we'll make it down to watch in person. I was all set-up with my pick a few weeks ago but the horse [War Pass] got injured and was withdrawn. After careful analysis, I have made my pick for the Derby: Monba.

Join in the fun: check out the Derby's website to study the field and make your pick. Leave your choice in the comments section below and if you win . . . you're well on your way to a gambling addiction.

And if you respond that you're waiting until tomorrow afternoon to see the what post position the horses start from, then you probably already have a gambling problem.

More Stuff Only I Care About

In soccer news . . . Manchester United made it through to the UEFA Champion's League final where they'll play either Chelsea or Liverpool— making it an all England final.

If ManU wins it, I'm going to have to get Emily to get me a celebratory t-shirt. I still have the one I bought back in 1999 when they won three different leagues in the same year.

Understanding the CJ Situation

For those of you who are confused about all that's happening with the Chad-Johnson-Wants-Out-Of-Cincy debacle, the Sporting News has a great explanation of salary structures and Mike Brown's hard-line stance. As much as it pains me to say this [because you know I've criticized him before], Mike is doing good with this situation. But he still did nothing this off-season to help the team improve.

And does anyone really think that Chad could actually make the Hall-of-Fame after all of this? It ain't happening.

Kant Do It

Ready to wrap up another Xavier class. As of May 6th, I'll be a mere three classes shy of graduation. This class has really killed me. I have yet to figure out the professor's grading system. I just don't share the same passions as she does theologically and its bringing me down. I'm trying not to sweat my GPA, focusing more on what I can learn.

I have a paper due next featuring, among other people, Immanuel Kant. If you've ever read Kant, you know it's kinda like working a Rubik's Cube while blindfolded [was that guy on Beauty and the Geek?].

Anyway, I'm still lumbering through Kant, just not successfully.

Good Enough For Me

I know I shouldn't do it, but I continually gravitate towards comparative living. I define "comparative living" as reflecting on your life by putting up against someone else's. Basically, if there's anyone that I know that is from a similar background as me, and has taken a similar career path to that of my own, then I will critique where I am in comparison to them. I'm not convinced it's a healthy way to live life. It's a constant problem I struggle with.

I'll admit that I engaged in some comparative living this afternoon. Kelly was in the office so, on our day-off together, Kaelyn and I drove to Bright, Indiana to help out my sister-in-laws preschool. I did some songs for the kids on my guitar. There was about forty or so total kids for the sing-along.

SIDENOTE: working a crowd of kids at a Christian preschool is tough. They're really not the laughing type. Sure, I could have said the word "poop" which would have earned some laughs, but I didn't want to leave Mandi a mess to clean up after we left [I mean, from concerned parents because of my potty language. It's not like there would have been any actual feces involved].

As I drove back to the city, with Kaelyn knocked out in the backseat, I thought of other guys in ministry my age who have "arrived." I'm not quite sure I can quite relate to that process of arriving. Instead of speaking in front of thousands on a Sunday morning, or traveling across the country to do a book signing, I'm singing "Shake a Friends Hand" to a bunch of preschoolers.

Not exactly where I envisioned being after ten years of ministry. This is when I lust after what others have. Not their possessions, but their influence. I feel as if I could be doing more but am relegated to lower tasks, like playing songs for children.

But something that happened earlier in the afternoon helped me reevaluate my constant comparisons.

When I went to sing to the preschoolers, Kaelyn didn't like it. In fact, she hated the idea of sharing her daddy. She burst into tears, breaking into her hyperventalating cry. Eventually she had to be taken out of the room by Mandi. When I was finally finished with the songs, Kaelyn came back in. I picked her up and she nuzzled into my neck and immediately stopped sobbing. It was in this occurence that I had the epiphanal moment of my day:

This . . . kid . . . loves . . . me.

She doesn't give a rip what I do as long as it's with her. It's an unbelievable feeling— something that brings a wave of contentment into my life, driving the jealousy and envy from my soul. I don't know who else has this feeling, but I imagine there are a lot of people who would covet it.

And that should be good enough for me.

Onto The Next One

Bear with me, those of you not interested in sports, as I comment on the move the Reds made today in axing their general manager Wayne Krivsky. First, let's admit that Walt Jockety is a totally different caliber of GM than Krivsky. The writing was on the wall with Jockety already on the payroll: Krivsky needed this team to perform. And they haven't; this team's holes could not be overlooked, and it was the team the Krivsky put together.

Krivsky inherited a farm system that his predecessor Dan O'Brien had made one of the best in baseball. He made some great moves, such as acquiring Brandon Phillips, getting Josh Hamilton for nothing, and locking up Aaron Harang long term. Yet he also made many high-impact, salary sucking moves that plague the team today and will impact it for years to come. Castinelli opened up his wallet to keep players we needed and chose to invest in the wrong ones: Mike Stanton, Bronson Arroyo, Corey Patterson, and Ryan Freel were all locked up for more money than they were worth. And they weren't the only misses. While some people still decry the Austin Kearns/Felipe Lopez trade, I still think minor leaguer Daryl Thompson could sway that trade towards the Reds favor.

At the end of the day, this decision makes sense. But it doesn't solve everything.

I laughed tonight as I watched the Reds on television. In the fourth inning they started interviewing Jockety about his new job. When the conversation started, the Reds trailed 2-1 to the Astros. By the time the inning was over, the score was 9-1.

The starting pitcher was Bronson Arroyo, who is winless this year, who has not pitched well in two years, and is owed $30million through 2011 thanks to Wayne Krivsky.

Welcome to the job, Walt. You have a lot of work ahead of you.

I AM THE CHAMPION

Let me tell you a story. A story that I like because it's about me and my frickin' awesome afternoon. Kelly and Kaelyn were in Lexington this weekend while I had a slew of events to keep me busy here in Cincy. I spoke at the little country church this morning and, since I had all my Echo tasks for this evening's service completed, I went to watch the Reds play the Brewers this afternoon. Ironically, I applied sunscreen before I left only to spend the entire afternoon soaked by rain.

As I'm thinking about, I realized that I'm totally comfortable going solo to places now. Before I got married I had never eaten alone in a restaurant. Now I'm go to movies, ballgames, and restaurants by myself and enjoy the communal solitude. I always used to wonder why people would go places all by there lonesomes. Now I'm that guy.

Anyway, I've mentioned before that the Reds allow ministers to get a free ticket to games [Bob Castellini is a very good man], and they'll give you the best seat available so I was fifteen rows behind the Reds dugout. Even though the rain drove many fans to take shelter I had an awesome seat and decided to stay put.

My perseverance meant that I ended up getting soaked; I'll most likely be sick tomorrow. And, of course, the game went into extra-innings and I had to get home and change before church. So I missed an epic comeback which included back-to-back home-runs and a Ken Griffey Jr. game-winning single.

All of that should have made my afternoon somewhat miserable. But one brief moment made it absolutely glorious.

In the seventh inning Reds-killer Bill Hall came to the plate and fouled one off over my head. Years of observing foul balls ricochet off an upper-deck wall back to the seats below led me to track this ball which indeed hit above and started to head back towards me. It was actually heading a row or so behind me. There was a guy between the ball and me and he had a perfect line to catch it. But years of observing people drop sure-thing foul balls led me to back him up just in case.

And wouldn't you know it, the ball went right between his hands. He absorbed any of the momentum the ball had and I two-handed it.

Yep, I snagged me a foul ball.

Sure, it wasn't a cool catch, but in over twenty years of going to ballgames and I had never even sniffed a foul ball.

I decided long ago that if I ever caught a ball I'd give it to a kid. What point is there in keeping a non-home-run ball anyway [especially from stinkin' Bill Hall]? And if I brought it home to Kaelyn, she wouldn't have cared. There was a couple two rows in front of me with their grandkids at the game and I handed their grandson the ball. All in all, I didn't have the ball in my possession for more than five seconds.

So the kid has the baseball . . .

. . . and I have this story.

And I'm happy.

Half A Man

I wasn't satisfied with my weight gain over the winter. It really wasn't that much, but it was enough to make me angry. Desperate times call for desperate measures: I'm running the Flying Pig Marathon.

Well, sorta.

I'm actually running the half marathon.

Normally I'm an all-or-nothing type guy; if I'm going to do something, I'm giving it 100%. But running a full marathon was just out of the question.

For starters, I didn't want to start training in December to run. Although I occasionally run on the machines over at Xavier's Athletic Center, I do so reluctantly and only go about six miles [actually, until I started training, I'm not sure I ever ran more than six miles at a time]. Plus, our friend Angie is training to run a marathon and spent last Saturday doing a long run that lasted four hours.

Four hours. Just to practice. No way I could do that. Especially considering the biggest roadblock to me running the marathon:

I really don't like running.

Sure, if I'm playing a sport where running is just a part of the equation, I'm there. But I get bored easily and spending weeks running long distances [for practice] is not fun. I wouldn't be able to get by with the limited training I'm doing now if it weren't for an mp3 player.

But I'm getting excited about it. The race course is right in our area. In fact, the half marathon runs right in front of our condo. So I'm hoping homefield advantage will come in handy.

So two weeks from tomorrow I'll be up early to do some racin'.

But it's only half-impressive.

The Ground Shook

. . . or so I was told. The Carr household slept soundly through the earthquake this morning. Although the epicenter was southeastern Illinois, it was felt throughout the Cincinnati area. I'm wondering if our hillside location helped to defer the reverberations. Or maybe we have an incredibly solid house. Otherwise, we're just sound sleepers.

I made sure we took out earthquake insurance on the place when we moved here. We're well above the Ohio River flood line, but a really good earthquake could do some damage.

I imagine a few insurance agents will make some additional sales today.

I'm Losing It . . .

My sentiments yesterday concerning low-income housing at the Banks were exactly the same as many other people in our city. The Enquirer printed up many responses, but really only one person who thought it was a good idea. I do not know who Dave Bean, but here is his response:

Absolutely, there should be affordable housing associated with The Banks project. Too much money has already been spent by the city and county in the riverfront area that benefits the wealthy at the expense of the majority of the citizens. Government has the responsibility to protect and treat all people with equity. Here is a chance for Cincinnati to show the world that it is not owned by big business and it in fact cares about all its citizens. For those who think this is to be a showcase: I agree, it should be a showcase of what this country is about.

Thoughtful response. I disagree, but everyone is entitled to their own idea. All would be well, except when we take note of where Dave Bean resides:

Mason.

Yep, a 'burb about twenty miles north of where this housing project would be.

<rant>

You see, Dave, think you have the perfect solution but, in essence, you're part of the problem. If you lived downtown, or in a neighboring neighborhood, or perhaps even within city limits, or even in the same county, then your opinion might mean something. But since you live in a suburb, where you won't have to actually encounter the Section 8 housing you're suggesting, then you're just talking crap. Hypothetically and philosophically you think you have it all figured out. And I'm sure you do since whatever happens at the Banks really won't affect your life in the least.

I know I've probably said this before, and it will appear that I have a chip on my shoulder, but it bears repeating: if you don't live here, shut-up and keep it to yourself. I'm sure you think you have the solution to every urban problem, but you don't. All your opinion is doing is wasting valuable ink that could be better used on tire advertisements.

I'm sure if this discussion centered in Warren County, with the City of Mason wanting to move in some low-income housing into your subdivision, you might be compelled to show up at a council meeting and voice your disapproval, concerned for what such a move would do to your property values. But if this is how you really feel, you should be proactive, get some petitions, and get some Section 8 on your street pronto.

I'm sorry, Dave, if I've judged your harshly. But unless you're willing to practice a consistent ethic, then your opinion is worthless. Sure, we all want what's best for our society, but it's a whole lot easier when you can't see it from your house.

</rant>

Not A Good Idea

The idea of putting Section 8 housing on the Banks is ridiculous. For those outside Cincinnati, the Banks is the real estate along the Ohio River between Paul Brown Stadium and Great American Ballpark. The Cincinnati Metropolitan Housing Authority, who had over ten years to bring up this topic, chose to do so the week before construction equipment was moved on-site. The CMHA argues that the Banks will be Cincinnati's 53rd neighborhood and therefore needs to have low-income housing as part of it.

I reject that argument. The Banks will be Downtown, which is already classified one of those 52 neighborhoods.  There is already low-income housing Downtown. In fact, there is plenty of Section 8 housing all around town [including right next door to our place]. The true reason the CMHA is bringing this up is to try to get a [late] stake in the bargaining table; it's mere grandstanding that could continue to delay the construction process.

As a citizen of Cincinnati, I want the Banks to be as profitable as possible. In the long term, it's what's in the best interest for our city. Is it fair that only the wealthy will be able to live at the Banks? Probably not, but that's life. I cannot afford to live in Indian Hill; it's premium real estate. Finances indeed limit where I can dwell. I will most likely not be able to afford to live at the Banks, but if I really want to, I need to come up with the money it takes to live there. Taxpayer money is being invested here, and I want the best return for the investment. The Banks should not be expected to be an all-inclusive neighborhood. And it doesn't need to be.

The CMHA would be best served to stick with what they do best and not try to manipulate city development from afar.

I Was Wrong

Where I once was an apologist, I must now admit that I came down on the wrong side: Chad Johnson needs to get out of here.

His latest statement, which indirectly was an insult to Carson Palmer, most assuredly confirms that CJ will never play for the Bengals again.

And that's fine. I'm not saying he's replaceable, but the division he's causing is impossible to ignore. It's not as if his antics actually made the team better, but they were tolerated when it came to his great talent. And his repeated cries that no one supported him was crap. He had people all over the place who had his back. So good luck to whatever team he plays for next. And unless he's going to New England or Indianapolis, he'll be catching footballs from an inferior quarterback.

My new concern is how the Bengals treat this situation. I get sick of players who make these statements and screw over their former teams in an effort to get out of town [see: Corey Dillon and Randy Moss]. I would fully support Mike Brown if he let him rot on the bench. Chad won't get paid when he sits out, the Bengals won't take the huge salary cap hit, and teams will have to make serious offers in order to get him out of here. Unless there's a first round pick being offered, Chad can hang out in his condo.

And to think I was this close to buying a number 85 jersey last year. Good thing I didn't.

Bridging The Gap

I was talking to my friend Jade the other day. We went to grad school together and he's now ministering in Lower Price Hill, working predominantly with the inner-city poor. We were talking shop he mentioned that there still isn't a viable ministry model getting the urban poor and the urban affluent to worship along-side each other. It's a difficult gap to bridge. The impoverished can feel like outsiders, as if they're not truly viewed as equals. And, as Jade put it, while the affluent appreciate the concept of worshipping with the poor, it doesn't always carry over pragmatically; there is a fear factor involved as they sometimes can't handle the baggage, even the smells, that accompany poverty.

I agree with him, albeit reluctantly. My secret dream is for Echo to be a church that breaks down these barriers.

With that conversation still fresh in my mind, we had our largest showing of poor folk at Echo this week in a long time. And interestingly enough, they each brought with them their own smell- whether body odor, cigarettes, or alcohol. I'm not sure how they felt in our midst, as they were all seeking out something from the church. But I was inspired to observe that our people engaged them, introduced themselves, and tried to make them feel at home.

Sure it's just a blip on the radar, but it makes me think that creating an urban community where Jesus breaks down those barriers is actually possible.

I know we haven't arrived yet, but we working on building a better community. And it's going to mean learning how  to reach out to folk all across different spectra, not looking down on anyone, but embracing people as equals.