I made a promise to myself that the next post on this blog would beat Duke Nukem Forever out the door. Let’s start easy.
I don’t know when I started becoming disillusioned with my church, but the ingredients all seemed to be there; music I didn’t care for being one of them. Plus the fact I could never be bothered into service, and didn’t seem to be growing spiritually. Now I still have very little idea what “growing spiritually” means, but I’m now much further on the way to finding out.
Then I was browsing at Tecman, and saw Floyd McClung’s You See Bones, I See an Army: Changing the Way We Do Church—a book written especially for the disgruntled churchgoer. What if church didn’t have to be so complicated, with programs, formalism and the top-down leadership that characterizes so many denominations and has no grounding in Scripture? I bought and read it.
The title is an allusion to the prophet Ezekiel’s vision of a valley of dry bones, which he is told to prophesy over. When he does so they come together, and flesh and muscle grow over them. Then the breath of life fills their new-formed lungs, and they stand on their feet, “a great army”.
My point isn’t the fact McClung appropriates the context differently from Scripture—God identified them as “the whole house of Israel” (Ezekiel 37:11), while McClung modernizes it into the people of a broken world the church is called to reach out to. How do we do this? With what he calls “simple church”. Like the early Christians did, as recorded in Acts 2:41-47.
It’s not a big thing; people reaching people, joining together in small groups to study the Bible, serving others and reaching out in the Spirit. Such “churches” would be organically linked by conversions, training and friendships, rather than formal hierarchies. You might say McClung’s seen both worlds for himself; he ran a halfway house in Kabul, Afghanistan before the Taliban came and has pastored a megachurch. Today he works with church planters in Cape Town, South Africa.
It all sounds good. And better than that, McClung provides a guide to doing this; finding your passions and putting them to use in a simple church setting. As I’ve said before, you may not agree with everything he says—I would have appreciated more on how heresy can be avoided the movements he starts, rather than a simplistic “our fight is not with such-and-such”. Doctrinal differences can be serious matters indeed, and I’m disappointed he doesn’t address solutions to legitimate disagreement and the possibility fellowship might need to be broken in some cases.
Don’t let that stop you from pondering McClung’s challenge. Overall, You See Bones is one of the best books on church leadership and individual development I’ve seen. The Christian who gives up on the organised church may simply have been given this discontent by God as a call to serve Him elsewhere—which is a message that should be heard more rather than the guilt-slinging we’re otherwise prone to.
Yes, there’s a place for biblical correction—but to the disgruntled who still love Jesus but see little in His church, give McClung’s ideas a try. Heck, the Fellowship of Evangelical Students could use some of these, for what are we at heart but simply “friends serving Jesus together”?
#
Some news in gaming is positive; like the cheering announcement that Ubisoft had scrapped the downloadable content for the new Prince of Persia game’s PC version—releasing it only on consoles instead. For “business reasons”. When the lifelong PC gamer I am read it, I was immediately thankful for the fact I didn’t sacrifice 60 bucks on the altar of the capricious deity that is computer game production.
(I was able to save it for Tom Clancy’s HAWX, from the same publisher. Here’s a prayer they don’t likewise play us out.)
Other news is very bad, still others just plain stupid; apparently Call of Duty: World at War is animal rights group PETA’s latest target thanks to a section where the Nazis unleash a wave of attack dogs at you.
Dog charge + automatic weapon + neck-breaking mini-game = canine carnage.
Now I don’t know about you, but I find an MP40 submachine gun a better defence against attack dogs than hugs and a few biscuits. It’s the principle of the thing, they argue; games shouldn’t be promoting such cruelty to our animal friends! All this at a time when my brain’s shrivelled out from a steady diet of differential equations, biomechanics, cell processes and signal analysis (argh) to come up with rebuttals, but thankfully I don’t have to.
Because the writers at The Escapist have done it for me. You’ll find good gaming journalism here, and whenever some lawmaker or activist group seeks to demonise interactive media you’ll find coverage and (often) a brief rebuttal. On a lighter note, over a couple of years now their columns have cheered me up with a chuckle, a few laughs and maybe some full-blown guffaws here and there.
The way my life’s going, my sense of humour has devolved to the point my laughter is a very hard thing to win.
Like games and care about things beyond the visceral thrill of disembowelling the next Locust in your path? This mag’s for you; and best of all, it’s absolutely free.
Comprehensive game reviews. No charge for reading special content. Open to submissions all around the world. A bevy of wacky features that brighten your day. What’s not to love?
A word of caution. There’s some mature content here; the f-bomb gets thrown around a lot. I personally don’t mind, but if you actually play this stuff I’m guessing you won’t let a little ear-screening get in the way.
#
Ah, swearing. I wish I could speak plainly and say I don’t give a <censored>, and to be honest I don’t. But is this how people who’ve been redeemed by God and light an unbelieving world with His presence should speak? St. Paul is very clear on the issue:
“When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.”
– Colossians 3:4-8
When I’m with my brothers or (very) close friends it’s far easier to let a swear-word emerge, often as a superlative—for example, “that was <censored> awesome.” But in school, when the reputation of the National University of Singapore itself is at stake, the homefront vocabulary simply doesn’t exist at all.
Different words for different occasions, that’s all I’m saying. Under the right conditions I can let loose a <censored>-load of language straight out of a Warren Ellis comic book. I’ve often said the only thing I can do in 2 language is swear; it makes up most of the Hokkien I know. But in church and school I consciously put a lid on it.
I’m still myself. It’s not hypocrisy; just decorum. (I don’t wear T-shirts and boxer shorts to wedding dinners.) And the world has far bigger problems than one man using a four-letter word every now and then. Of course, if everyone were to think like that…