But what would it look like if we began to see and define each other for who they are instead of what they do?

Snow and ice have crippled the United Kingdom this week- the coldest recorded winter in thirty years. With temperatures rarely rising above freezing, I thought it would be appropriate to remember another snowy winter.

On January 6, 1850, a young man stumbled through a blizzard in Colcester, England. His name was Charles Spurgeon. Originally bound for a baptist church, Charles was forced to seek shelter in a Primitive Methodist church. It would turn out to be a life changing event.

Only a dozen people filled the pews. Most of them were snowed up, including the pastor. Suddenly a thin, uneducated shoemaker took to the pulpit.

“Our text is found in Isaiah 45:22,” he said, “‘Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth. This is a very simple text indeed. It says, ‘Look.’ Now lookin’ don’t take a deal of pain. It ain’t liftin’ your foot or your finger; it is just ‘Look.’ Well, a man needn’t go to college to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool and yet he can look. A man needn’t be worth a thousand pounds a year to look. Anyone can look; even a child can look.”

Then the shoemaker looked directly at soaking wet Charles. “Young man, you look miserable! And you will always be miserable, unless you obey my text!”

Charles didn’t remember much else of the shoemaker’s sermon; he was too possessed with the one thought: “Look unto me.”

In his autobiography, he later reflects, “I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes away.”

I think the lesson of this story is that you don’t have to be educated or talented or well-spoken to change a life. If God could use a stammering Moses or a stuttering shoemaker, what can he do with you?

All we need to change the world is a readiness to abandon everything for the sake of what’s really important. And if we do, there’s no telling who could be watching.

Of all the pilgrimages I’ve ever taken, Assisi is one of my favorites. I find myself returning there, magnetized to it somehow. Assisi is situated in Umbria, a land of rolling hills laced with castles and orchids. The sunsets would make van Gogh drool. They call it the “green heart” of Italy for a reason. It’s grassy arteries take pilgrims through towns like Gubio, where Francis tamed a wolf, and Spoleto where he preached to birds. For a middle-class, suburban-oriented guy like me, these small medieval villages provokes a sense of conviction within me.

From Assisi you can take a taxi up a windy road into Mount Subasio to see a place called the Carceri (Italian for “prison”) where Francis retreated to pray. It’s a rugged environment, a cloudy place that feels the brunt of winter’s brutality. Even before Francis came here, the site was used as a jail to isolate criminals. Having committed no crime, Francis placed himself in solitary confinement because he felt that he was still enslaved to his flesh. The habits of his former life ruled him and for him, spiritual freedom was found in the woods.

For Protestants, the practice of pilgrimage is making a huge comeback. I tip my hat to the fellas at Christianity Today who are recovering it as a discipline everyone can practice. Pilgrimage has a unique way of combining the inward, upward and outward components of the Christian faith. It can foster intimacy with God, inward reflection, and an appreciation for community. It’s is not tourism, where the object of the journey is entertainment and information. Rather, pilgrimage is a celebration of transformation. It takes us out of our comfort zones and moves us from a place of certainty in ourselves to dependency on God.

When we arrived at the summit of Mount Subasio, a view reserved only for hang gliders and small planes greeted us. There’s a path that meanders through the woods that you can take, leading you around the side of the mountain from cave to cave. Francis and his monks lived in these quaint little holes, and you can still see the chisel marks inside them. For days and weeks these monks wrestled with God in these cavities, probably contributing to Francis’ early death. But while he was alive, Francis fell in love with Lady Poverty.

The following prayer of St. Francis describes his spiritual puppy-dog love:

The woods of Mount Subasio have no telephone poles, streetlights or coffee shacks. There are no jazz clubs, sushi bars or internet café’s. Just pure nature, the way God created it. For a tech junkie like me it was surprisingly refreshing. How can a sixty-two inch plasma flat screen television compare to this? Two-dimensional 1080p doesn’t come close. I stood there feeling greener than I’ve ever felt in all my life. There was something altogether attractive about the simple life, the rustic life, a life uncomplicated.

Some pilgrimages take a lifetime to unpack. I am beginning to think that this is one of them. Even though he lived a thousand years ago, Francis still challenges us to adopt the mindset of Christ – that a lost life is a found life.

There’s a new phobia sweeping the world – evangephobia: the fear of the evangelical.

I was in a taxi in Chicago a few months ago and the driver asked me if I was one of those “gun-carrying, gloom and doom evangelicals.” It caught me off guard, to be honest. But I wanted to see what would happen, so I said that I was (minus the gun carrying bit).

As we drove on, there was a lot of silence and I could see that this guy was really getting freaked out – physically affected by my response. When we arrived at our destination, I remember standing on the side of the road with a haphazardly-written receipt in my hand thinking that I had just witnessed my first experience with evangephobia.

A Crime?

In an a culture that upholds the the rights of every individual, regardless of skin color, race, place of birth, sexual-orientation, etc., it is often surprising to see such explicit and implicit hate-speech directed toward those who hold an evangelical belief system. In an uber-sensative United Kingdom (where I am currently living), where verbal bullying frequently makes the news, it is interesting to observe the not-so-subtle evangelical phobias inherent in the BBC and other primary media venues. Disguised as neutral, objective journalism, I can’t help but notice the underhanded comments and the demeaning tone of voice that often couples documentaries on Christianity. Recent investigations have revealed such biases.

In the United States, where free speech is legendarily touted, President Obama’s recent signing of the Hate Crime Bill has raised some evangelical eyebrows. Barret Duke told the Baptist Press, “While we should never condone acts of violence against anyone, for whatever reason, including whether or not that person is a homosexual, this bill proposes to prosecute someone based on their belief about homosexuality and therefore makes religious belief a germane issue in this debate.”

What is an Evangelical?

Evangelicalism is, as I have come to know it, a renewal movement within the protestant church that has its origins in the revivals of George Whitefield and John Wesley. The word is used in many ways, but historically, evangelicals have always been a restless people. Restless because they see injustice in the world and they endeavor to fix it. Restless because they respond to the moral laxity around them with a deeper spirituality through spiritual disciplines and self denial.

Evangelicals live in tension between identity and adaptability. On the one hand, she is to be separated from the world – holy, set apart, different. She is the bride of Christ, to use a biblical image, kept pure for the coming of her groom. Therefore, her actions, attitudes and dispositions will be different than that of the worlds.’ On the other hand she is commanded to engage the world, to reform and transform the world through the love of God. In the past, evangelicals have tried to be both of these, often swinging to the extremes.

According to David Bebbington, evangelicals can be defined by four words:

Ian Bradley’s The Call to Seriousness shows that evangelicals in the early part of the 19th century were perceived by the culture as a positive entity. These were the serious minded citizens who wanted to rid their culture of slavery and oppression. These were businessmen, miners, shop-keepers, tailors, and others who held deep convictions about their faith. These were teenagers who showed their parents how to radically abandoned themselves to God, ordinary radicals, as Shane Claiborne would say. Evangelicals were a bible-driven, cross-centered, conversion-oriented, activistic people who gave their lives to the enhancement of humanity and the kingdom of God.

Believing that Jesus demonstrated both a concern for the physical and the spiritual, evangelicals have always retained enough gospel in their social to be “social gospel” driven.

A Loss of Momentum

In the 1950s, the revivalism of evangelicalism in America, as ignited by Billy Sunday, Billy Graham, started to lose momentum. There are many reasons for this – prosperity, apathy, lack of persecution, etc. Subsequently, a great laxity settled over the American church.

Prayer meetings and big tent revivals were replaced with program committee meetings. Pastors gained a new and unfamiliar role as C.E.O. of their multi-million dollar businesses. Mega-churches became the craze, and in many ways, the cultural Christianity that ensued dissolved the identity of the church. We became pigeonholed for what we were against, not for what we stood for. The church looked so much like the world in order to draw the world into the church that it was hard to tell whether it was more than a workout facility, a country club, a swimming pool, a cafe, and so forth.

Enter my generation. A product of the baby boomers, my generation is the Entitled Generation. David Zimmerman’s Deliver Us From Me-Ville speaks to this self-centeredness and anthropocentricity. The massive failure of the evangelical church to reach the marginalized and the disenfranchised, particularly in the city, spawned many splinter groups to recover an authentic form of the Christian faith. Some emerging/emergents seek to recover a “purer” form of Christianity, while others desire a divorce from Christianity altogether.

Yet there is a renewal movement within evangelicalism – younger evangelicalism. Fueled by the works of J. I. Packer, John Piper, Chuck Colson, C. J. Mahaney, Tim Keller, and others, younger evangelicals are taking seriously the core tenants of the Christian faith and appropriating it in fresh and innovated ways. We are reacting to the spiritual laxity of the previous generations. Collin Hanson, author of Young, Restless, and Reformed speaks to this new generation of God-centered, worship-oriented Christians who are restlessly pursuing holiness and Christian identity through spiritual disciplines and social activism.

Yet it will be interesting to see how the world responds to evangelicals in the next thirty years. Will old biases and tired stereotypes resurface? Or to bring up another issue – will it become a federal crime to proclaim evangelical beliefs from the pulpit?

What do you think?

In 1984, German filmmaker Philip Gröning sought to make a documentary about the life of the Carthusian monks in the French Alps. Sixteen years later, the monks said they were ready to film. The film took two years to make, following the daily routines of monastic life.

At first, I didn’t know what to expect. There were no violent explosions, sneaking velociraptors, CGI effects or thrilling action sequences to speak of. There were no suspenseful plot twists or clever dialogues. Just the simple life of the monks as they gave themselves to reflection, meditation, and worship.

While the movie has a beginning and an ending, after a while, time seems to disappear. Everything modern disappears, in fact, until you feel like you are living in the mountains with the monks – washing dishes, feeding animals and chanting in the midnight watch. Into Great Silence confronts our love affair with sound. It speaks to the beauty of the quiet, the hush of the Holy.

We live in an age that’s unfamiliar and suspicious of silence. Any radio host will tell you that dead air is wasted air. But silence has a way of teaching us how to speak. Perhaps it is in the quiet places that we learn obedience the best.

Into Great Silence stands alone as a genre of spiritual film both that has unique informational qualities and remarkable transformational potential.

Tony is the author of The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier and is theologian-in-residence at Solomon’s Porch in Minneapolis. He is a doctoral fellow in practical theology at Princeton Theological Seminary, the author of many books on Christian ministry and spirituality, and is a sought after speaker and consultant in the areas of emerging church, postmodernism, and Christian spirituality.

In this podcast we discuss the emerging/emergent church, evangelicalism, preaching, worship, theology, and homosexuality. About half way into the interview, the audio gives out a bit, but Tony relocates to a quieter venue. Tony blogs here.

There are some who say that evangelicals and emergents can’t have a cordial chat, Tony certainly proves them wrong.

Audio:

Having travelled to Buchenwald, Germany, and other concentration camps, I assumed this movie would rekindle memories of gas chambers, chimneys, and trenches. My assumption was justified. For those who have yet to study the tragedy of Nazi Holocaust, this film serves as a good introduction, and moreover, the Christological message in this film is worth all the Kleenexes you’ll need to get you through the end.

Maintaining a delicate tension between freedom and bondage, hope and despair, life and death, this movie raises questions of good and evil, light and dark.

Great attention to artistic detail is displayed in every scene, along with clever visual elements that reflect its multilayered title. In one instance, the bars of a staircase is briefly accented. In another, the vertical lines of a shadow, reflecting the concentration camp uniforms. “By his stripes,” I was reminded, “we are healed.”

At times during the movie, I felt as resistant to the German idealistic indoctrinations as the main character, an eight-year old boy who befriends an imprisoned Jew. At other times, I felt as guilty as the Nazi soldiers who assisted (some by willful ignorance) the deaths of millions.

To this end, Boy In The Striped Pajamas is an honest, sobering, and powerful call to keep remembering.

(This article was adapted from “Media Review” by Christian George, Summer 2009, www.myMissionFulfilled.com)

Each chapter offers a no-holds barred approach to the Christian life and even includes a foreword by none other than Chuck Norris.

Against the backdrop of countless reads that exchange biblical truths for contemporary trends, this book caught me off guard by standing unapologetically in the tradition of Christian missions, evangelism, and spiritual discipline.

Most books that enjoy such success compromise on traditionally evangelical doctrines such as sin, heaven, hell, afterlife, and so forth. Not this book. Do Hard Things rides the building wave of revived puritanism that’s currently sweeping the Unites States. Standing on the shoulders of those like John Piper, C. J. Mahaney, Mark Dever, and others, this book fits naturally into the younger evangelical genre of Christian literature that’s gaining momentum.

John Piper says of this book, “Adult expectations for youth are too low. And these twins are out to raise them. Don’t adapt to the low cultural expectations for youth. Set high ones. Youth can become examples for adults. Think that way. Dream that way. Or as the Harris brothers would say, ‘Rebel against low expectations.’”

While entertaining to read, this book invites its readers to confront spiritual laxity and dig deeper into the faith that conservative Christians claim to believe. Do Hard Things is a call to seriousness, discipline, and activism, not dissimilar to early 19th-century British evangelicalism.

As refreshing as it is convicting, this book is filled with humorous anecdotes, engaging stories, and real life examples of people living out their faith.

What it lacks in experience, it makes up for in enthusiasm – a call to an exciting Christianity. Most of all, this book is a reminder that following Christ is tough stuff.

Bottom line: Alex and Brett Harris, younger brothers of famed Joshua Harris, is a call dive headfirst into a life that’s totally rendered and surrender to God.

Keep your eyes open for a sequel.

• Alex and Brett Harris’ website

• Purchase Do Hard Things

• This book review has been adapted and expanded from my article for www.myMissionFulfilled.com, originally published Summer, 2009.

We now examine the inward and outward components.

The Inward

Historically, evangelicals have been a strictly disciplined people. To master oneself was the greatest battle. Inward disciplines like solitude, prayer, fasting, meditation, spiritual reflection and silence became trademarks of early evangelicals – a buffet for the soul.

The momentum generated by the awakenings on both sides of the Atlantic continued through the 18th century, lost some steam at the end of the 18th century, and then was rekindled in the early 19th century by a generation of Christians that reacted against the spiritual complacency of their parents (forgive my over-simplification).

If you want a more detailed synopsis, I invite you to wade through Owen Chadwick’s two volumes on the Victorian Church. Chadwick is a marvelous historian and captures the mood of the Victorian age.

If you want a cliff notes version of evangelicalism, Ian Bradley’s The Call To Seriousness does well to describe the spiritual disciplines and the attitudes of the evangelicals in Victorian England (at least within the Church of England).

Discipline was the name of the game (though they didn’t play too many games). Skipping church was anathema. Sleeping in was a punishable offense. In many ways, evangelicals of the 19th century look a lot like the Celtic monks of the 6th and 7th centuries.

The monks on the island of Iona, for instance, woke up before sunrise to recite the Psalms with rocks in their mouths. The 20-somethings “younger evangelicals” of the 1830s woke up in similar fashion and literally broke the ice in their bathtubs to read the Scriptures in the cold water. Both groups of Christians thought that if the body was disciplined the soul would follow.

Bell avoids what evangelicals traditionally understood as the Day of Judgment. They thought that every moment, every thought and action must be carefully considered and never wasted. A squandered life cannot be tolerated in God’s kingdom. Christianity is a call to seriousness and action.

Many think that current evangelicals can hardly be characterized by austerity and seriousness. But Bell is challenging that. “We’re rediscovering Christianity as an Eastern religion, as a way of life,” Bell says in “The Emergent Mystic”. Historic evangelicals would have appreciated his reaction against a compartmentalized Christianity, a kind of “cheap grace,” as Bonhoeffer called it, a grace that isn’t worth much because it doesn’t cost much.

Disciplines like “Breath Prayers” are encouraged by Bell. “Central to the Christian tradition,” he says, “. . . have been disciplines of meditation, reflection, silence, and breathing. It was understood that to be a healthy person, to be fully connected with God, and fully centered you would spend significant parts of your day in silence–breathing, meditating–praying allowing the Spirit of God to transform you and touch you” (from an audio sermon on “Breathing” dated 5/29/05).

So yes, I believe Bell fits into an historical evangelical paradigm if we consider the great amount of energy he spends helping others cultivate the interior life through spiritual discipline.

The Outward

Evangelicals have always been an outwardly-focused people. On the cutting edge of social reform, evangelicals sought to be the hands and feet of Christ in a catatonic society.

When Jonathan Edwards was kicked out of his church he took his wife and children and moved to the Stockbridge Indian community to live and minister to the Moravians. Edwards was concerned with the marginalized and disenfranchised of New England and saw himself as a pastor/missionary (not unlike David Brainerd, whose biography Edwards wrote).

It’s about incarnation. Because Christ came down “in the flesh” we become flesh for others. Francis Shaefffer once said that Jesus gives the world the right to judge whether or not we are Christians by the observable love we show one another. And when it comes to the outward component of evangelicalism, I believe Bell would have us rekindle what Edwards, William Booth, William Wilberforce (see Amazing Grace) and Anthony Ashley Cooper demonstrated in their activistic endeavors. Christ associated with the poor, the sick, the marginalized, the outcasts, and so must we.

In the 19th century, evangelicals believed that God cared about the rights of factory owners, the health of chimney sweepers, and the daily struggles of the working class individual. That’s one reason Charles Spurgeon taught London’s illiterate how to read and write, started an orphanage, a pastor’s college, and gave away large sums of money to those in need.

Modern organizations like Children’s Hopechest and Nea Zoi continue in the evangelical tradition, fighting against homelessness, abuse, sex trafficking, slavery, prostitution, rape, and murder. And if Bell meant what he said to the Boston Globe – that evangelical means “extending to the poor generosity and kindness” – then I should think he can be rightly be categorized as an evangelical.

What to do with Bell

Everyone has a context. To really understand someone we must examine their environment, the struggles they find themselves in, and most importantly what and who they are reacting against.

Most religious personalities and movements can be defined by reaction – St. Augustine against Pelagius, Martin Luther against Romanism, Seperatists against the Established Church, and so forth.

Bell is no exception. To understand Bellianism one must acknowledge his background. Some people try (without success) at categorizing him and find it frustrating because like many emerging/emergents he often resists definition. For them, it’s like nailing theological jello to the wall.

Others appreciate the questions Bell is hammering: What should a church look like in the 21st century? What does it mean to be the body of Christ in our culture? How can we show the love of God to our enemies? These are good questions – necessary questions – and I tilt my hat to all those who are asking them in search of honest, thoughtful answers.

So what do people think of Rob Bell?

Most people fall into one of two groups: conservative evangelicals mildly tolerate his clever avoidance of key evangelical doctrines like that of the atonement, judgment, hell, and others. Liberals would enjoy less gospel and more social in the “social gospel” he advocates through NOOMA, books, and other venues. But both groups must come to terms with the fact that Rob Bell is a leading figure in the development of American Christianity. “I’m convinced,” Bell reflects, “that I am not doing anything new, I am hoping that I’m in a long tradition.”

A Word of Challenge

As a younger evangelical myself, I would challenge Bell, if he wants to claim an evangelical identity, to:

• Maintain the convictions and doctrines we have traditionally held precious. Examine them in the light of the Scriptures.
• React against our condition, not our tradition.
• Take all of Jesus seriously. Not just his words about the here and now, but also the next life – heaven, hell.
• Don’t be afraid of offending people with a Christ who claimed to be “the only way”. As you know, Christianity has rarely been an historically popular way of life. Jesus is offensive. Don’t be afraid of preaching about a jealous God who loves his bride, the church.
• Faithfulness is more important than success.
• Decrease. There’s not a lot of it going around in current American evangelicalism. John said, “I must decrease, Christ must increase” (John 3:30). Focus less on self-image and more on God’s image. Extend his kingdom. What is God doing in Africa, Asia, South America? What kind of Christianity are they embracing? How can we encourage them? What can we learn from them?

Traditionally, evangelicals have been a praying people. As Bell’s shadow extends and as his celebrity-persona enlarges, ours should be a task of prayer. That God would give him strength and courage to reflect his light and truth in a dark and disillusioned society.

Resources

• Read interview with Mark Galli earlier this year, as Rob Bell discusses his book Jesus Wants to Save Christians, perhaps his most theologically stable work thus far.

• David Lloyd Jones, What is an Evangelical?

• The Evangelical Alliance definition of Evangelicalism

• Rob Bell, “Everything is Spiritual:”

Is Rob Bell an evangelical?

What is an Evangelical?

In the Rabbinic tradition the term evangelical (besora in the Hebrew), occured six times in the Old Testament. It meant “glad tidings.”

In the Greek world the news of the birth of a Caesar or emperor is described as euangelion. The messenger of that good news was greatly celebrated (or in the case of the Magi, apprehended).

Mark used the word euangelion eight times in his narrative. The Apostle Paul used it sixty times.

Historically, evangelicals have been “good news people.”

As I have come to understand it, the term “evangelical” has three main components: the upward, the inward, and the outward. I have collected a list of other beliefs that younger evangelicals are also deeming important.

The Upward

Many use the word “evangelical” to talk about the days of John Wesley, George Whitefield, and Jonathan Edwards. David Bebbington’s work on evangelicalism and revival has shaped much of our understanding of these traditions. This December, Professor Bebbington will be presenting a paper at the Evangelicalism and Fundamentalism in Britain Conference at King’s College in London.

When it comes to a personal relationship with God -the upward element of Christianity – evangelicals usually cluster around the biblical truths rediscovered by Martin Luther, John Calvin and the other protesters of Rome in the 16th century.

Grace alone. Faith alone. Christ alone.

Bell would agree with these. No need to take pilgrimages to earn indulgences. No need to sleep on stones or deprive the body of necessities. The free gift of God’s grace is a gift. Not a work to be earned through penance. See my blog on self flagellation.

Evangelicals believed that the punishment for sin already happened to Christ, the lamb “that was slain before the foundation of the world” (Revelation 13:8). To get a good picture of an Augustinian Catholic turned Protestant, watch Luther directed by Eric Till in 2003.

The upward dimension of evangelicalism also includes a conversion experience. Bell highlights the process of renewing the Christian life, but often to the exclusion of a “magic prayer” that is supposed to save you. For him, conversion is a process of turning from that which separates us from the goodness of God. He also resists too much emphasis on the next life because he feels it takes away from the focus on the present life.

What is a conversion experience? John Wesley said that his heart was “strangely warmed.” Others describe it as a moment of clarity and conviction, a turning from sin to grace, dark to light. In 19th-century Britain, there were also records of anti-conversion experiences – those who turned away from the Christian faith, and particularly from evangelicalism. Read the works of Marian Evans (better known to us as George Elliot), John Romane’s A Candid Examination of Theism (1878), and in the 20th century, Edmund Gosse’s Father and Son (1907).

In a survey conducted forty years ago, evangelical Christians talked about their conversion experience in terms of a single momentary event – like Paul on the Road to Damascus. A recent survey reveals that people are now talking about their faith with postmodern words like journey and pilgrimage – a road to Emmaus experience. Bell speaks to a generation who is struggling to understand what it means to be a Christian living in a time of linguistic transition.

In many ways, the rise of Calvinism has brought the term “evangelical” back into vogue. Bell would resist being labeled as Calvinist, unlike his contemporary Mark Driscoll. The upward resurgence of Calvinism in younger evangelicals embraces not only the tenants of the Reformers but also the theology that was championed by the English Puritans. Popular preacher/theologians like J. I. Packer, Tim Keller, C. J. Maheney and John Piper fan the flame of Puritan teachings, making them attractive and accessible to younger generations of Christians.

What’s all the God-centered fuss about? Check out this article on John Calvin.

Rob Bell is no Calvinist. He does not stress the doctrines of grace as expressed in the reformed tradition. He would take issue with Jonathan Edwards who emphasized that humans are “sinners in the hands of an angry God”. Read Jonathan Edwards: A Life by George Marsden).

“The gods are not angry,” Bell keeps insisting.

Most evangelicals would react to this by saying that God should get angry at sin, murder, rape, selfishness, genocide, laxity, laziness, indulgence. A neutral God is no friend of William Wilberforce, leading Anglican evangelical and abolisher of the Slave Trade.

The “good news” that evangelicals tout is that God has offered a solution to the problems of evil through the person and work of Jesus Christ. He has entered our environment as one of us, and as a result, Christians enter the world and “become flesh” to others.

In “Is Rob Bell An Evangelical? Part II” we will examine the inward and the outward elements of evangelicalism.

• Here’s a video of Bell at his best:

On June 24th, after touring 100 cities in 40 states, the Bible Across America bus has collected handwriting samples from 31,173 Americans. Every verse of the Bible has been copied by hand, each sentence written by a different person.

During the Dark Ages, if you wanted a copy of the Gospel narratives, you would have needed to translate the Bible by hand, letter by letter, word by word. It often took Celtic scribes years to accomplish this, and their work is not only laboriously decorated, but also highly artistic (See Book of Kells, housed at Trinity College in Dublin).

Guternberg’s Press comes along in 1440 and revolutionizes the copying of the Scriptures. No longer did the Bible require a mixture of powdered ink and calf skin, now it could be replicated on cheap paper in mass production. The Protestant Reformation benefited greatly from this invention, and some argue it would not have happened without it.

Yet did Guttenberg’s invention come with a cost?

The creators of the St. John’s Bible think so. The Saint John’s Bible Project, scheduled to be completed this year, will be the first Bible to be copied by hand in the tradition of the illuminated manuscripts since the medieval era. It took four million dollars to complete, hundreds of 2X3 foot pieces of vellum and 160 illuminations. See a sample from the Gospel of Matthew.

The Word Made Flesh

Eugene Peterson’s translation of the Bible puts it this way: “Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14.)

Christians believe that Christ became real skin, bones, and blood. We call it the incarnation (literally, “into flesh”), and it’s the idea that God took a pilgrimage to our planet and walked a mile not only in our shoes but also in our feet. See Tom Torrance’s book on the Incarnation.

Because God really became a man, he is able to identify with human struggles. To put it poetically – Christ, the eternal Word of God, abandoned his paragraph in paradise to sink into the simple sentence of an earthly stable.

Both the handwritten Bible and the Saint John’s Bible speak to a puzzling question that theologians have been wrestling with for thousands of years: How does God use ordinary people to transmit extraordinary truths?

“On the Mystery of the Incarnation”

by Denise Levertov (1923–1997)

“It’s when we face for a moment
the worst our kind can do, and shudder to know
the taint in our own selves, that awe
cracks the mind’s shell and enters the heart:
not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
to no innocent form
but to this creature vainly sure
it and no other is god-like, God
(out of compassion for our ugly
failure to evolve) entrusts,
as guest, as brother,
the Word.”

• poem found here
• see other works by Denise Levertov

Resources

• A Guide to Medieval Manuscripts

• What is the Incarnation?

• Athanasius on the Incarnation, forward by C. S. Lewis

• Thomas Aquinas on the Incarnation

• Charles Spurgeon on the Incarnation