The article is likely right in pointing to the appeal of the “social” nature of many of these games, such as World of Warcraft. And it tells of one married couple where the man loved gaming, but his wife felt neglected. Desperate to save the marriage, she agreed to start playing the game with him. Eventually, they went their separate ways in the game, since she couldn’t keep up. But she found other friends in the game and plays it all the time. Asked about the allure of the virtual world, here’s how she replied: “People in the game are a lot more genuine then they are in real life,” she says. “Being hidden behind this mask of your character, you’re able to be a little more open and honest with people because they don’t know who you are.”

You can probably guess what I’m going to say about this heart breaking sentiment. Set aside for a moment the fact that she entered this “other world” to be with her husband but is now on her own separate voyage in that world with others she feels accept her and care for her (they give her “gold” to use in the game, for instance). I don’t want to sound like a typical basher of “virtual communities” - I’m a Facebook devoté. But it does say something about the harshness of our human communities (or even our marriages) when many find that, in order to be “a little more open and honest with people,” we must don the mask. Note the deep irony in this woman’s words. She’s being honest - true to herself, saying what she really thinks, etc. - when she’s “hidden behind this mask.” In other words, in order to be herself, she must be someone else. In order to be present as our self, we must not be present to ourselves. (This kind of thing is unfortunately common in marital affairs, too, where often we embrace self-alienation as a means of self-expression - step out of our own lives in order to get what we think we really want.) It’s a tortuous cycle.

Pascal once said, “Human beings must be known to be loved.” And yet our frail and disordered condition tells us that to be loved, we must not be known. And there is plenty in our own experience of life to lead us to this conclusion: when we give ourselves to be known, love is not often what we receive in return. So we do not give ourselves and are not known, and are therefore unloved.

As a Christian, I do believe that God in Jesus Christ is the only one who both knows us completely and loves us unconditionally. And the simple call to love others as we have been loved by God should be seen as a radical way of life that undercuts the self-alienation that plunges the human self into an empty abyss. It’s a call to stop the tortuous cycle, in our own lives and for the lives of others. When others let themselves be known, we are called to offer them in return the love that we have received. And we can give ourselves to be known, because the security of our own souls is not hanging in the balance, waiting for acceptance in return. We have already received it and with it can overcome any this-worldly rejection.

So, the article convicted me.  Too often you’d be fair to characterize me the way the woman in the article characterizes our society. Hopefully without sounding trite, it’s safe to say that the more Christians embrace the simple but profound call to mutual self-giving, the fewer hearts we’ll leave to search for acceptance in a different world. 

The content of his preaching is somewhat “cerebral” — engaging some of the most common intellectual challenges that both Christians and non-Christians face when seeking the face of God or the meaning of their existence. And this stands to reason: a big part of missional preaching is sensitively contextualizing the Gospel message, and Redeemer Pres. is made up largely of youngish, on-the-rise professionals in an environment that fancies itself as cutting edge.

It also means that Keller’s preaching is often very helpful for those outside his congregation who have many of the same pressing questions. What’s underneath our culture’s best formulated objections to faith in Jesus Christ? How can we address them well? What unselfconscious concepts of God or humanity or salvation has the church embraced that have prevented us from being a counter-culture for the common good?

I haven’t read it yet (trying to meet a dissertation deadline), but Keller has recently published a book that will be of interest to most Presbyterians who are seeking the missional renewal of the church. It’s called The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism, and can be viewed here on Amazon. The reviews of the book are quite good, and being familiar with Keller’s approach, I’m confident it’s a worthwhile and provocative read.

I also found that the Veritas Forum has both audio and video of a “talk” given by Keller on the topic of his book at a University of Chicago forum. Head over to the Forum’s website and check it out. Part One of Keller’s talk is here, and Part Two is here.

Feel free to offer your thoughts / questions / amens / rebuttals!

This morning we continue under the theme of Living Wisdom: Forming Our Faith with the Mighty Dead. The premise of this theme is that the tradition of the church — as lived and taught by the “mighty dead,” the saints of ages past — has much to teach us today. In our first lecture I cited C.S. Lewis, who encouraged us to read “old books” as a way “to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds.” Paying attention to history has many benefits, not the least of which is the fact that history can illumine the major blind spots of our own age and re-awaken us to significant truths about faith and life that we have discarded, sometimes unintentionally. Our goal is not to become antiquarians — interested in history merely for its own sake. Instead, we enter the drama of history seeking “Living Wisdom,” insight that is very much alive and that we ourselves would do well to live. Though as Protestants we believe that our faith and life must ultimately be founded on the teaching of Scripture, we also know that the Spirit has worked throughout history in helping the church to come to a better understanding of the Word of God. (more…)

I would like to begin today’s lecture with some words from G.K. Chesterton: “Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about.” With those words, Chesterton touches upon a profound truth not often recognized by modern Christians: sometimes the greatest resources for facing our future are found in our past. (more…)

There are a variety of ways to explain why the residents ask Jesus to leave. Were they just distraught over the loss of their possessions, their swine? Was this unleashing of spiritual power too much to handle, perhaps fearing what Jesus might do to or require of them? Calvin remarks that their fearful request for Jesus to leave reflects the basic quality of their present relationship with God: (more…)

Jesus obviously takes their fear to be evidence of their lack of faith. It is easy to be struck with dread in the face of the dangers of this world, especially in our terror-hyped times. But is fear ever appropriate for someone with confident faith in God? Can a proper fear ever serve our faith rather than evidence our lack of faith? John Calvin reflects on these questions in his commentary on this passage: (more…)

In Deuteronomy 7:2, for instance, Moses tells the Israelites that when they enter the Land of Canaan, which God had promised to give them, they will encounter its current inhabitants whom they “must destroy totally.” And then in the description of the conquest in Joshua we find these instructions carried out in a sweeping manner. For instance, in Joshua 6, after God collapses the walls of Jericho, the Israelites “devoted the city to the LORD and destroyed with the sword every living thing in it—men and women, young and old, cattle, sheep and donkeys.” The Hebrew word here translated “devoted” is herem and it’s a technical term in a variety of such Old Testament passages describing things (and people) that Israel was supposed to “devote” to the Lord, often devotion through destruction: “Herem War.” (more…)

The idea of Heaven is fascinating. It’s actually one of the few universal human fascinations. Everybody thinks about heaven. Even if it’s your own made-up, private version of “heaven,” you think about it. C.S. Lewis once described heaven as that remote music we’re born remembering. I think that captures it really well. The whole human race has a kind of deep memory of paradise lost, a faint but powerful awareness that there must be a better, different world that we were designed for. (more…)