In a way, at least after reading the preface and the first section, A New Kind of Christianity  a re-telling of his earlier book 'A New Kind of Christian.' Where the latter is a pseudo-autobiographical version of a Christian's entrance into the postmodern consideration, the former is an elevated look at the same conversations. This time, however, the discussion takes place at 30,000 feet instead of ground level; Brian attempts a pulling away of the magnifying glass and starts talking about concepts, theories, and narratives.

Brian asserts that the Christian culture (around the world) is experiencing an identity crisis because it can no longer answer many questions that are relevant to people of newer generations. It is a crisis specifically because "paradigms and dogma remain profoundly vulnerable when anomalies are present. They can be undone by something as simple as a question—a question about the divine right of kings, the origin of species, the relation between matter and energy, how races can and should relate to one another, the motion of planets, and the standard operating procedures used by the church." What Brian is trying to point out here is the source of the identity crisis facing the church: questions. These questions are the framing of Brian's discussion in A New Kind of Christianity, and these questions will be the formative points on which the church will carry itself through to future generations. So what is the first question?

1. The narrative question: What is the overarching storyline of the Bible?

This question has fascinated many theologians for centuries, so he's definitely not claiming to be the first person to tackle the question of narrative, nor is what he's proposing never been proposed before (though the title of the book may suggest otherwise). He is proposing, however, that the way the story of the Bible has been told in recent history has contributed to a destructive narrative, one that is not genuine to the story of Jesus of Nazareth, and one that is increasingly turning off many people to religion in our world today.

Brian proposes that the Biblical narrative has been told through a Greco-Roman framework (more akin to Neo-Platonic/Aristotelian philosophies). Brian calls this reading the Bible backwards. We're looking at it from the perspective of a Greco-Roman framework which had no influence on the formation of the Hebrew scriptures. The most obvious evidence that this Greco-Roman framework has permeated our Christian narrative is that popular belief concedes 'Heaven' as a place 'above,' and 'Hell' as a place 'below.' These orientations are products of a cultural philosophy far separated from the culture and the message of Jesus. Anyways, back to narrative.

According to the Greco-Roman narrative, the narrative of the Bible flows through 6-lines. (1) A state of perfect creation, (2) a descent into condemnation, then the path forks: (3) some are ascend by salvation, (4) others fall further into eternal damnation, while those who were worthy enough for salvation enter into (6) a renewal of the former perfection. According to this narrative, not only does the Biblical narrative follow this route, but the whole of humanity (including that which is not included in the Bible flows along a similar arch).

Brian cites the problem of this story lies in its foundation: It is the Greco-Roman framework which assumes creation to be 'perfect.' When something is perfect, where can it go? If history is to progress, can something be perfect already in perfection? No. Perfection can only fall, therefore the natural progression for Creation is descent. This is precisely the problem of this 6-line narrative, creation was good--not perfect. In fact, perfection implies state. If something is perfect then it cannot (ideally) go anywhere. This is not the vision of creation told in Genesis 1-2. When we learn to read the Bible from the beginning (starting with Genesis, instead of looking back through history and theologians and doctrines). Rather we are faced with a God who creates a world teeming with brilliant life, a life that not only is blessed but also bursting forth with the creative potential. God implants his creative identity into the root of his creation. Creation is meant to move forward, which means that creation is released into the vast realm of possibility.

Starting with 'good,' instead of 'perfect,' effectively repositions the Biblical narrative as the beginning of a journey with a loving Creator and a foolish creation as companions. With the 'old' narrative, there was a Fallen narrative and a Rescued narrative. With creation beginning as 'good,' there is a Creation narrative (opening the world to possibility), a Liberation narrative (from foolishness), and a Reconciliation narrative (restoration of the World back to goodness). Genesis, combined with the story of Exodus, lays out those narratives. The journey of the Hebrew people, along with the story of God, follows along the path of liberation and reconciliation and foolishness. But Elohim, the God of the Hebrew people, remains ever present throughout their journey, never abandoning them. 

What I really like about this book so far are the questions that come up surrounding the current discourse. With a view of biblical narrative like the one Brian proposes in chapter one, I can't help but bring up questions about the identity of God, or how does one read the Bible? Indeed, as you may have guessed, these are questions that Brian tackles subsequently in the book. It seems to me, and maybe this is a premature assertion, that Brian is hashing out one of the few (and rare) theologies of the emerging church (it's been done before, but not in a way that really espouses the popular theology of the emerging conversation). This is an exciting prospect, as one of the many critiques against emerging discourse has been a lack of theological foundation (too much love and not enough definition). I'll leave it to you to decide whether or not theological discussion constitutes boundaries (which to many would be anti-emergent).

Stay tuned for part two of a ten-part series about A New Kind of Christianity.

Wes

District 9 is a movie I've been looking forward to ever since I heard about it. I finally got the chance to see it about a week ago when I was home visiting Texas before school starts again in Santa Barbara. Most people I talked to didn't think much of the movie, other than it was an alien shoot-em-up movie with a lot of exploding human corpses and barbarously disgusting (to a degree, they have a point).

However, what really intrigued me about the movie was the story it told. It is the story of an alien race, who are stranded from their home planet and out of fuel preventing their return. They request to stay on Earth in the meantime and become the guinea pigs of hideous experiments ran by a multi-billion dollar corporation contracted by the governments of the world to harness their power and technology. The human governments treat the aliens like absolute trash. They are housed in a refugee camp called District 9.

What I liked about the movie was its twist on the typical alien genre. Typically you have the aliens arriving at earth and destroying the entire planet, attempting to systematically wipe out the human race. Then there is a counter-insurgence and the humans achieve victory at the last possible moment and this usually happens as the result of an inspiring speech to a meager remnant of volunteer civilians. (Don't forget you can't have a good alien movie without Will Smith.) But District 9 takes this archetype and turns in over on itself, the hierarchy of aliens dominating humans reverses and it is now we, the humans, who are the oppressors.

After spending a little more than a month this summer in Israel/Palestine, the story within District 9 sparked particular interest in me. How is it that two peoples can come to such a deeply founded level of hatred for each other? Is there any hope of reconciliation? Can there be peace? Or will the cycle synthesize itself in violent bloodshed as thought by thinkers such as Hegel and Marx?

One reviewer on Rotten Tomatoes said (I paraphrase), If it takes an alien-bug movie to talk about social issues in our world today then that's okay.

I won't give too much of the story away, I think you should go see it for yourself if you haven't already. I encourage you to look beyond the obvious and find the story that is oftentimes hidden underneath; for it is that story that is really the event of reality.