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Design Your Own Preacher Camp

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I leave on Sunday for my yearly meeting with a group of clergy that calls itself “The Well.” (The story of how we ended up with that name is a post in itself.)

We patterned ourselves after a group of hoity-toity pastors that have been meeting together for something like 25 years. I think there are other groups like ours too. This is our fourth year to meet, and here’s how it works:

We are each assigned two Sundays in the upcoming lectionary year, and for each of those Sundays, we are responsible for writing and presenting an exegetical paper. These papers analyze the text and typically provide 2-3 sermon “trajectories.” There are currently 15 people in our group, which means we leave with a head start on 30 weeks of preaching. From time to time we think about adding members, but haven’t figured out how to do so without cutting into evening free time, something we are not willing to do.

People have said to me, “Aww, I wish I had a group like that.” I always tell them, “Just do it!” It’s really not that complicated to put a group together. I would love to see these groups propagate. So to encourage people to give this a try, I thought I would write down a few things we did to get started or keep going. I think most of this is taken from the hoity-toity group, so no claims at originality.

1. Start with a core and invite. Our group began with a few seminary friends kicking around the idea of a yearly lectionary study group. Once this core group was locked in, each of us invited another person. If you still need more, have the invitee invite someone else. That casts the net wider. Decide what kind of denominational/regional/theological/seminary diversity you want, or don’t want.

2. Have a covenant. We were advised to set the expectation: if you don’t have your papers done, you don’t come. That sounds harsh, but the integrity of the group depends on everyone doing the work. We have granted exceptions for truly dire situations—in those cases, the folks brought one paper instead of two. Nobody has arrived empty handed.

3. Have a “dues guy.” We charge dues for basic operations of The Well—this is collected ahead of time by one of our members and kept in an account through the church he serves. Dues might pay for a few lunches, a dinner or two, evening snacks and drinks, etc. We use a sliding scale based on how big people’s continuing education budgets are, but it’s somewhere between $100-$200. Then each person is responsible for their travel expenses plus accommodations.

4. Divide the jobs and respect the royalty. We start with a short worship every morning, and someone new handles that each year. Another person draws names out of a hat to figure out who’s assigned to which date in the lectionary year. We make these determinations about 9 months ahead of time so people have time to write the papers (though I assure you, there is plenty of cramming going on as we speak). We also take turns “hosting” the event. That doesn’t mean it necessarily takes place in that person’s city, but one person is in charge of securing lodging (we like B&Bs), a place to meet (a local church, perhaps) and also moderates any discussion that needs to take place in between meetings (via e-mail). We’ve taken to calling that person the King or Queen, because they are “the decider” for that year. We have a lot of type A people in our group (if I ever write a book about our group it will be called “Too Many Alphas”) so it’s good to have someone in charge.

5. Use Dropbox. We’ve tried a number of things in terms of paper collection and distribution. We used to bring copies of our own papers for everyone, but lots of us preferred electronic copies for various technical and environmental reasons. This year we’re uploading our papers to Dropbox so people can download them onto their laptop and/or print them, if they’re a scribbling type. We make them due by Saturday morning before we leave, and if you miss the deadline, you are responsible for bringing copies of your own paper for everyone.

6. Schedule for the week: We do 40 minutes per paper. The person reads the text, reads the paper, and then the discussion begins. Someone watches the time so we stay on schedule. In the past, we’ve had a block of time with a scholar or pastor to talk shop, and this year we even have a free afternoon. Heaven.

7. Leave evenings free. I’ve heard that the hoity-toities do papers into the evening, and honestly, I don’t know how they do it—by the time we finish for the day, I’m fried. Guess that’s why they’re hoity-toity. Our group likes to have a leisurely dinner, then hang out late into the night. We also started a yearly competition, with a trophy awarded to the person with the most outrageous ministry story. And yes, there’s an actual trophy.

So, there it is. The Well is one of the best things I do as a clergy person and one of my happiest weeks of the year. And I say that despite the fact that I preach the lectionary less than half the time. The scripture study is awesome and stimulating, and of course, spending time with other people who “get it” and with whom you can be real is HUGE. I think I laugh more that week than I do the rest of the year.

The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism: Book Review

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The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism by Tim Keller

This book was chosen by our book group at church, and I went to it kicking and screaming. Keller is a pastor in the Presbyterian Church in America, which broke off from our denomination over the ordination of women. I don’t pay them much attention most of the time, and I certainly don’t seek them out on matters of theology. Whether that’s close-mindedness or good discernment on my part, I’ll leave that to others to judge. Bottom line, though, is I’m glad I read this book, but I’m also glad I could get it from the library rather than buy it…

The first half of the book addresses the questions and charges people make against Christianity (the evil done in its name, how can a good God allow suffering), and the second half makes a more positive case for the Christian faith. I actually liked the first part of the book better. For one thing, it’s somewhat less systematic, less interested in building a logical argument so much as addressing (and in some cases dismantling) the traditional arguments against God and faith.

I would have been happy for him to stop there. That’s a temperament thing—I was reminded of spiritual types recently and I am more on the apophatic side. Apophatic spirituality is centered on the mystery of God that goes way beyond whatever we think we know. Apophatic spirituality approaches God by saying what God is not, and tends to be suspicious of attempts to nail things down too handily. Christianity is largely “kataphatic,” centered on the idea that God is revealed and known in the person of Jesus Christ. In this sense, apophatics provide a necessary corrective and a reminder that we don’t know everything, never will, and that’s probably a good thing. (More on this topic)

It could also be that apophatic Christians are Buddhists who just can’t quit Jesus.

Back to the book.

I appreciated the places where Keller was able to bring some nuance. He deftly weaves literary and historical material into his discussion and quotes heavily from C.S. Lewis. (These were some of my favorite bits in the book; clearly I need to read more Lewis.) I agree with his assessment of the church’s role in systems of injustice. To the extent that it participates and colludes with them, it is an affront to the gospel. But the answer, Keller, is not to throw the whole thing away but to go deeper into a life with Christ. In fact, Christianity has within it rather robust tools for critiquing and correcting religiously-based injustice and oppression, including its own. (I’m not claiming that Christianity is unique in that regard, though Keller might be.)

His chapter on biblical interpretation was strong, and I liked how he handled the facile argument that if you can’t take the Bible literally everywhere, you can’t take it literally anywhere. You have to consider the genre and intent of a passage. Genesis 1, for example, is not a scientific text: “Genesis 1 has the earmarks of poetry and is therefore a ‘song’ about the wonder and meaning of God’s creation… it is false logic to argue that if one part of the Scripture can’t be taken literally then none of it can be. That isn’t true of any human communication.”

I take this to mean that one might say “I love you” to one’s spouse upon leaving for work, and five minutes later say, “Ugh! I’m gonna kill that guy!” to the bozo who cut her off on the freeway, and the latter should not be taken literally, nor does it preclude the former from being taken literally. But did you catch that? He just called the Bible “human communication”! Not even this prominent PCA pastor is willing to say that the Bible is God’s dictated word, jot and tittle, and for that I am thankful. In fact, some of his principles for interpretation seemed to come right out of Jack Rogers’s books for the Presbyterian Church (USA) on biblical interpretation. Maybe these guys are mellowing out.

Ultimately, however, I wish Keller had stuck more to theology than apologetics, which unfortunately is his emphasis. Can we “logic” our way to God? Maybe, but I hope not. Yes, the bodily resurrection of Jesus would have been a complete scandal to people at the time, an offense even to pre-modern sensibilities, and totally outside the realm of what they would have consider possible at the time. He’s right; to make up such a thing would not have lent credibility to those following the way of Jesus. That does not mean that it happened… though that’s essentially Keller’s argument.

He also employs a number of circular arguments and dualistic, all-or-nothing thinking. For example, quoting Plantinga, “a [secular] way of looking at the world has no place for genuine moral obligation of any sort… and thus no way to say there is such a thing as genuine and appalling wickedness.” On the contrary, I think there can be broad moral consensus of good and evil in secular societies. (He would say that this consensus originates within religion, specifically Christianity. That’s Christianity as Godfather: “Just when I think I’m out, they pull me back in!”)

He also tries to defend God on the matter of suffering:

Though none of these people are grateful for the tragedies themselves, they would not trade the insight, character, and strength they had gotten from them for anything. With time and perspective most of us can see good reasons for at least some of the tragedy and pain that occurs in life. Why couldn’t it be possible that, from God’s vantage point, there are good reasons for all of them?

I guess it could be possible, but… no. Just no. Here’s the apophatic talking: there is no benefit to trying to nail that stuff down and systematize it. It is a mystery. Maybe it will all make sense in the sweet by and by, but if you’re trying to build a bridge for the non-religious, it does not benefit your case by even going there.

I would be interested in hearing a non-religious person’s take on this book. My sense is that it provides lots of food for thought for Christians, and maybe even folks who lean Christian. (I expect very vigorous discussion of this book in our group.) But is not going to do much to sway folks who are resolutely non-Christian.