1. Chris Wright interview
Chris Wright, Old Testament scholar and head of the Langham Partnership (a ministry started by John Stott), was interviewed on the UK-based Nomad Podcast about mission in the Old Testament and gives his perspective on what appear to be ethical conundrums in the Bible. Here also are my notes from a talk Wright gave when he was in town earlier this year.

2. 25 years of refugee resettlement
My former boss, Sheila McGeehan, is profiled by Church World Service for her decades of work resettling refugees in Lancaster. I love the way refugees and immigrants have turned Lancaster City into such a unique, vibrant place, and though she’s too modest to take credit, Sheila has played a big part in that:

Not many people can claim to have resettled thousands upon thousands of refugees to their hometown – but Sheila McGeehan can. Since she began her work with the Church World Service Immigration and Refugee Program (CWS/IRP) 25 years ago, she has introduced refugees from all around the world to Lancaster, Pa. – the “tranquil, prosperous, safe, pretty” city she loves. In turn, newcomers from Russia, Vietnam, Sudan, Bhutan, Ethiopia, Burma, Bosnia, Iraq and numerous other countries have transformed this small city in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch Country into what McGeehan calls a “very cosmopolitan” community, population 55,000-plus.

3. Science in a fallen world
Jason Summers, a real-life scientist, has written a new essay for Q Ideas, calling Christians to faithful engagement in science:

Taking seriously our uniquely human role as practitioners of science, Christians must approach science with a deep grounding in theology and proper understanding of its practice in society. The most significant questions about how science is to be practiced in a fallen world will be settled on the field that spans the two poles of antithesis and common grace. But, if we are to have meaningful input in answering these questions we must heed Pope's admonition to “check yourself before you wreck yourself” (as a more recent poet has phrased it). Overemphasis of common grace in the practice of science diminishes the unique epistemic perspective of Christians to the extent that faith is made private. In contrast, an overemphasis of antithesis magnifies issues of “ultimate explanation” to the extent that artificial barriers are created to use of valid theoretical constructs. Both distortions are barriers to creating a God honoring culture of science within a society that is pluralistic and fallen, but redeemed and image-bearing.

4. The most read books in the world
A guy by the name of Jared Fanning created an infographic featuring the ten most read books over the past fifty years. Some would be expected, but some are a bit more puzzling. (HT Jesus Creed)

5. Jeppe on a Friday
Here’s the trailer for a “collaborative neighborhood documentary,” set in Johannesburg, South Africa and showing “a day in the lives of eight residents of this area on the brink of massive change.” It looks really fascinating. (HT polis)

Repaso is intended as a thought-provoking compilation of news and commentary from the past week related to the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As always, I welcome your thoughts on any of the links and ideas in this roundup!

[Photo credit: eattheblinds.com]

Several years ago while in Costa Rica I read (and very much appreciated) The Gospel in a Pluralist Society by Lesslie Newbigin. Newbigin served for many years as a Church of Scotland missionary in India before returning to Europe where he began calling churches in the West to see the surrounding cultures not as mostly Christian, and not even predominantly secular, but primarily as pagan. In turn, he called on Western churches to act as if they were already in the mission field. One can clearly see Newbigin's fingerprints on the missional movement today.

My interest in Newbigin was rekindled after hearing Michael Goheen speak recently about his personal and scholarly interest in bringing the best thinking of Newbigin together with the ideas of Abraham Kuyper as a cohesive framework he calls "missional Kuyperianism."

With this in mind I recently read Newbigin's Proper Confidence: Faith, Doubt, and Certainty in Christian Discipleship (Eerdmans). It's a little book with big implications. Newbigin presents an alternative to both the theologically liberal and fundamentalist understandings of faith and doubt, acknowledging that the dichotomy between the two camps is made clear in the very terms themselves: "The words 'liberal' and 'fundamentalist' are used today not so much to identify oneself as to label the enemy." This labeling of the enemy is illustrated in how each camp portrays the other's understanding of faith and doubt:

From the point of view of the fundamentalist, doubt is sin; from the point of view of the liberal, the capacity for doubt is a measure of intellectual integrity and honesty.

While these are simplistic caricatures of the positions real people in both camps actually hold, Newbigin argues that so-called "liberals" and "fundamentalists" alike owe more to the Enlightenment than they're often willing to admit. His argument is a fascinating one, but I'll refrain from fully summarizing it here. Rather, I want to skip ahead to a poignant example he gives. I should mention that in this excerpt he uses the term "plausibility structure" a few times, which isn't exactly everyday vocabulary for most of us. For our mutual benefit, the term can be defined as a basic, unquestioned system of meaning, action or beliefs.

Here, then, is what Newbigin has to say about how those at various places on the theological spectrum have, in the spirit of the age, similarly sought to make the Christian faith reasonable, what that reduction has ultimately cost us, and where the truth is actually found:

There is a long tradition of Christian theology that goes under the name "apologetics" and that seeks to respond to this question ["how can we know what is true?"] and to demonstrate the "reasonableness of Christianity." The assumption often underlying titles of this kind is that the gospel can be made acceptable by showing that it does not contravene the requirements of reason as we understand them within the contemporary plausibility structure. The heart of my argument is that this is a mistaken policy. The story the church is commissioned to tell, if it is true, is bound to call into question any plausibility structure which is founded on other assumptions. The affirmation that the One by whom and through whom and for whom all creation exists is to be identified with a man who was crucified and rose bodily from the dead cannot possibly be accomodated within any plausibility structure except one of which it is the cornerstone. In any other place in the structure it can only be a stone of stumbling. The reasonableness of Christianity will be demonstrated (insofar as it can be) not by adjusting its claims to the requirements of a preexisting structure of thought but by showing how it can provide an alternative foundation for a different structure... To look outside of the gospel for a starting point for the demonstration of the reasonableness of the gospel is itself a contradiction of the gospel, for it implies that we look for the logos elsewhere than in Jesus.

The Christian story truly is a different story; it's a whole new plausibility structure, to use that daunting term. Disentangling our understanding of the gospel from cultural trappings is no simple matter. And as anyone who has tried to live "missionally" will tell you, none of us do it perfectly. But if Newbigin is right (and I'm inclined to think he is), we needn't fall prey to either of the faith/doubt caricatures; proper confidence really is within our reach:

The confidence proper to a Christian is not the confidence of one who claims possession of demonstrable and indubitable knowledge. It is the confidence of one who had heard and answered the call that comes from the God through whom and for whom all things were made: "Follow me."

In what way does Newbigin challenge your understanding of faith, doubt, and certainty? How would you define "proper confidence"?

[Photo credit: Ceiling of Glasgow Cathedral by David Cation]

"We were created for kind and gentle living," writes Richard Mouw. But, he continues, "It is not enough merely to reclaim civility. We need to cultivate a civility that does not play fast and loose with the truth."

That's the core thesis of Mouw's classic book, Uncommon Decency: Christian Civility in an Uncivil World (IVP). The problem he addresses is this: those who tend to have strong convictions aren't often very civil, and those who excel in civility often lack a base of strong conviction. Our aim, therefore, is convicted civility, a term first introduced by Christian historian Martin Marty.

Mouw is clear that what he has in mind is not somehow holding conviction and civility in balance, which would be how many of us would talk about the two. No, properly understood, conviction and civility are not to be held in tension, but to be seen as two complementary attributes of a mature Christian faith. Indeed, Mouw writes, "Developing a convicted civility can help us become more mature Christians. Cultivating civility can make strong Christian convictions even stronger."

One passage Mouw repeats again and again to support this belief is found in Peter's first epistle. After instructing Christians to always be ready to give a reason for their hope, Peter emphasizes that this is only to be done "with gentleness and respect." A chapter earlier Peter puts it simply, "Honor everyone." Christians are right to have strong convictions, and we understand our mission to include speaking about those convictions. But if that speaking is to truly point to the reason for our hope, the reason for our love, the reason for our joy, it must be done with gentleness and respect. To speak about our hope harshly or disrespectfully distorts the gospel into something coercive, something ugly. But -- and this is important -- we don't just speak with gentleness and respect as a means to an end: civility itself is a way of honoring God, regardless of any evangelistic opportunities it may bring.

When people of conviction look around, they quickly see much that has gone wrong. On the one hand, we might be prone to lash out, seeking to take matters into our own hands through coercion of neighbors and of society at large. On the other hand, we may be tempted to withdraw, to practice "tolerance" and to say nothing.

Like Miroslav Volf in A Public Faith, Mouw urges several correctives to both coercion and withdrawal, and I'll summarize a few here. First, of course, we need to look no further than our own hearts, minds, and actions for plenty that is not right, and we must address those problems first. Second, we must not forget that everyone we meet is made in the image of God, and therefore a work of divine art. Third, while withdrawal is not a real option for those of us who believe Christ is at work to make all things new and that he has invited his people to join him in this work, we cannot and should not attempt to do everything. Much is beyond our control, and to acknowledge this is to place our trust in the God who redeems and restores. We begin where we are, practicing convicted civility among people very different from us but who are also made in God's image and loved by him, though they may not acknowledge his Lordship with either their words or their lives.

Convicted civility is desperately needed all the time, and all the more during a presidential election cycle when gentleness and respect are all but missing from public life. In times like these, demonizing one's opponents becomes the norm, rather than honoring them as works of divine art, made in the image of God. Attack ads and smear campaigns on TV, forwarded emails with inaccurate assertions, passionate Facebook posts intended to rile up, and enlivened conversations about dinner tables will all be tools of incivility. All too often, the truth is lost in a sea of emotionally charged but factually dubious propaganda, whether on the right or on the left, and all who participate dishonor those to whom they owe their gentleness and respect.

Christians will come down on both sides of the aisle, disagreeing on some policies and agreeing on others. This is democracy, and I think it's a good thing. By disagreeing well, we can elevate the conversation. But it's my hope and prayer that leading up to November and in the days following we will stand out as those who practice a refreshing kind of convicted civility that's all but absent from the national stage. Let's allow those who disagree with us to speak for themselves, rather than taking sound bites out of context to suit our short-term ends. We have good reason, after all, to care about the truth.

If we're Republicans, let's honor Democrats. If we're Democrats, let's honor Republicans. If we're independents, let's try to understand how those planted firmly on both sides of the aisle have come to their views. Let's outdo one another in demonstrating love and honor toward others, beginning with fellow believers, and moving outward from there. It will surely confuse and intrigue many. And maybe, just maybe, our churches will stand out as a "model community" revealing, as Mouw puts it, "how God intends diverse individuals and groups to get along."

In the rest of the book, Mouw tackles a variety of topics, like pluralism and relativism, homosexuality, war and peace, unsavory Christian beliefs like hell, inter-religious dialogue, and the danger of triumphalism. I'll let you dig into those specifics for yourself, and please do consider how you might better embody convicted civility among your friends and family, in your church, and in the complicated, broken, polarizing world beyond. I'd love to hear your ideas about how Christians of all kinds might do this better. I know I have a lot to learn.

If you're not particularly a book reader (or you want to share these ideas with someone else), check out this interview Mouw gave to On Being with Krista Tippett about this topic.

[Image credit: "Olive Trees with Yellow Sky and Sun" by Vincent van Gogh (1889) via ibiblio.org]

This week marks six months since U.S. troops completed their withdrawal from Iraq. Regardless of one's opinions about the war, I hope we don't forget about those returning home. They need us.

I also hope we don't forget the Iraqis themselves. Nine years of war will take a toll on a country, and all the more when it occurs not in some dusty place far away with strange names but in neighborhoods with homes, schools, markets, places of worship, and often indecipherable enemy lines.

I want to give you one great way to ensure the people of Iraq are not forgotten.

For a variety of reasons, some of which predate the war, there's a huge backlog of children in Iraq who require heart surgeries due to life-threatening birth defects. A group called Preemptive Love has stepped in to address this problem. Here's a short video with Ahmed's story.

If you're interested in getting involved with Preemptive Love's work, you could consider starting a fundraiser, becoming a monthly sponsor, or even volunteering (that is, if you happen to specialize in pediatric cardiac care). At the very least, you can sign up to learn more.

Here's another video, this one a TEDxAustin Talk given by Jeremy Courtney, who tells some gripping stories of how the organization began and what it aims to do.