There’s a lot of buzz about Blue Like Jazz, the soon-to-be released film adaptation of Donald Miller’s best-seller. I’ve never read the book in its entirety, only parts. I’ve followed Miller’s website and watched several interviews with him. He seems like a very likeable, humble, guy. The “message” of the book seems awfully relevant. And the film snippets I’ve seen look great. (I’ve embedded the trailer at the end of this post, if you’re interested.)
So why am I conflicted about seeing “Blue Like Jazz.”
Many saw the book as a pretty fair look at the state of evangelicalism in the States and the tone of conversation between professing Christians and the culture. That sentiment helped Blue Like Jazz, the book, become an early catalyst of a growing movement of young American evangelical Christians who were distancing themselves from the excesses of organized religion, calling for a return to Christianity’s true meaning, and initiating a more open-ended, diplomatic, affable tone to cultural engagement. Some have labeled this approach as neo-apologetic and this, they assert, builds the bridges that our rhetorical rancor have burned.
I’ve been a bit suspicious of this trend to criticize Christianity, especially as a means of apologetic. This is not because I think that Christians aren’t screwed up or that American evangelicals aren’t often a parody of the real thing, but because the neo-apologists tend to two extremes. One, they focus on the worst elements of the Church and ignore the good. And Two, they tend to compromise Absolutes (i.e. Scripture) along the way. So most everything becomes “unresolved,” or blue… like jazz.
One of the most memorable images of the book is when Miller tells the fascinating story about how a handful of Christians at uber-liberal Reed College set up a “Confession Booth” during a week of campus pagan partying and excess. The booth, however, wasn’t for students to confess their sins, but for Christians to repent to the Reed students. Donned as monks, Miller and company asked Reed students for forgiveness regarding their lack of love and Christ-likeness, apologizing, as it were, for the Church. (I believe this is one of the lead images throughout the movie trailer.)
And this is what leaves me conflicted. Specifically, the concept of confessing our sins — or the sins of the Church — to non-Christians.
Yes, we need to approach the lost, not with a sense of superiority and condemnation, but with gentleness and mercy. Frankly, less finger-pointing and fire-and-brimstone would be refreshing. But evangelism by apology seems fraught with danger. Yes, our conduct and character are intrinsic to our message. But the truth is, no “messenger” ever perfectly embodies their “message.” Christians will always have something to apologize for because they aren’t perfect. So where do we stop?
And what happens after we apologize? Do we then begin to tip-toe into a presentation of the Gospel, holding our breath lest we offend those who’ve (hopefully) absolved us? At some point, even the “apologetic” Christian will have to stand for something — and just like Jesus, that “something” just might rankle and infuriate others. Besides, who said the Church should be loved by everyone? Last I checked, Jesus promised His followers that they would be, um, rather hated (John 15:18-20).
In light of this, maybe we should be more thankful for the cultural “persecution” and less worried about our PR image.
Yes, films (and books) like Blue Like Jazz remind us about our need to look in the mirror, identify the disconnect, and be more humble, gracious, and Christlike in our approach. But at some point, this conversation has to shift away from how screwed up Christians are to how merciful and powerful the Lord Jesus Christ is. There will always be bigots, buffoons, legalists, and hypocrites in the Church. But God has shown, throughout history, that the Gospel can survive just fine without my apology.
And that’s why I’m conflicted about seeing Blue Like Jazz. I love the idea of building a bridge to our culture, showing Christians in a real light. But must we do so by… groveling?
Well said. The thing about the emerging church movement is that they do have some very good ideas. I think there is a broad sense that the way we have been running churches like businesses or social clubs is not what Jesus had in mind, and this idea seems to be making its way into several denominations. Having not read Blue Like Jazz I can’t speak to its overall content, but from what you have said it seems the book and film echo my concern about the emerging church movement, whose desire seems to be along the lines of making Christianity look more appealing to the world. In doing this we must always be careful not to place the glory of the Church above the glory of Christ, whom we were created to serve. To embrace the parts of Him that the world loves and reject the parts they don’t does Him great disservice.
Hey Mike–
So, as someone who lives in Portland, I’d just say that the larger danger you’re describing here certainly exists, but the way it was done at Reed was actually a really positive thing. A lot of people in the northwest have been badly hurt by judgmental Christians, and their guard is up in a way that doesn’t allow them to hear what other Christians are saying. By agreeing with the wounded that “Christ also sees the harm done to you by Christians as sin” it allows people to put their guard down and have a real conversation about Jesus. It has less to do with apologizing for Christianity and more to do with apologizing for sinful actions of the Christians.
And, JL, just for clarity’s sake: neither Don Miller nor the church he attends is part of the emerging church movement.
Having said that, I’ve not seen the movie and don’t know what tack it takes….
Perhaps not, but many of the ideas he puts forth are similar and have been latched onto by those who are a part of that movement. Of course, emerging should not be confused with emergent, which is a different movement.
Like I said, I’ve never read the book myself, but I’ve always been interested to. Maybe it’s time to add it to my list.
Matt, our church is currently having some classes on outreach. I’m one of the group leaders. We’re using a video series from Bill Hybels. One of the things we repeatedly discuss is the importance of humility. Being preachy and pious isn’t Christlike and doesn’t win seekers. That’s where I like the “Blue Like Jazz” approach, if I could call it an approach. I think the downside, the fruit of this type of approach, is evidenced in the popular documentary,Lord Save Us From Your Followers.
Dan Merchant, the filmmaker, is a likable guy. He is humble and funny, travels the country wearing a jumpsuit covered with religious-themed bumper-stickers, befriending transvestites and gays, interviewing politicians and pundits, asking the question: “Why is the gospel of love dividing America?” Merchant disarms the typical incivility of such encounters, which leads to some genuinely touching moments. Well, spinning of “Blue Like Jazz,” Merchant erects a “Confession Booth” at Portland’s Gay Pride celebration. As homosexuals reluctantly enter the booth, Merchant apologizes for the Church’s treatment of gays throughout history, as well as his own attitude toward homosexuality. The sincere reaction of those who entered his booth was both captivating and disturbing.
But it leaves me with lots of questions. For one, do post-modern Christians still believe that homosexuality is a sin? If they don’t, then how do they handle the numerous Scriptural warnings and prohibitions against same-sex relationships? On the other hand, if homosexuality IS a sin, how and when do Christians actually say that without appearing condemning? More often than not, any opposition to homosexuality is viewed as anti-Christian. So it’s a lose-lose situation for the evangelical Christian — even a cordial, compassionate one! Furthermore, by confessing our sins to gays, aren’t we in danger of condoning a lifestyle that is both destructive and completely out of whack with God’s wishes?
This is what I perceive is the downside of the “Blue Like Jazz” mindset. Where do we drop the line of apology? I can apologize for being a schmuck. But is God a schmuck for calling certain things sin?
Thanks for writing, Matt!
I’m not a “postmodern ” Christian.
I’ve written about Homosexuality here before. Do I think it’s wrong? I don’t think what I think matters. About anything. The Bible says what it says. It tells me to love others without judging and to spread the good news of the gospel. Sin is sin and I am not going to sit around and find some out group to pillory.
I don’t condemn. I don’t condone. Those are words that belong to judge; Jesus said OUTRIGHT that the judge is not me.
That confessional booth was very upsetting to me. I wrote about it back in the day. http://mycropht.wordpress.com/2005/08/26/should-christians-apologize-for-other-christians/
The idea of apologizing for other Christians sounds to me like throwing people under the bus.
The idea for apologizing for something which you are not responsible for is a weird ethical cat, even in situations not involving the church body. It’s a misplaced collectivism, not the kind that Jesus endorsed when he grouped the body of believers and called them the “church”.
I hadn’t heard of the book, so thanks for bringing it to my attention. The book itself sound interesting, but the movie itself…not so much. At least not to me.
I hopped over to Amazon, read the first review, and came across this quote from the book (which is enough to give me serious pause): “I think Christian spirituality is like jazz music. I think loving Jesus is something you feel. I think it is something very difficult to get on paper.” (p. 239)
Quotes like “loving Jesus is something you feel” really *really* ruffle my feathers. To be fair, I should read the book before I expound. I have to say though, I’ll be going into it as a skeptic.
After reading more about the author’s wishy-washy views on Christianity, I’ve had no desire to read the book OR watch the movie. The church is compromised enough, without throwing the whole thing under the bus.
Two words: no thanks.
I’ve not read the book or seen the movie. But from what I’ve gleaned from your comments, and those of others, and watching Steve Taylor discuss the movie, I would agree, it seems to go out on a limb in certain respects.
On the apologizing, I really think they miss the bus on that point. What they shouldn’t be doing is apologizing for the Church’s or members of the Church’s sins, but acknowledging that yes, some people wearing the label Christian have not been very Christ-like in their approach and message, even if many times they are sincerely doing what they feel is the right thing to do. IOW, acknowledge whatever injustice they feel they’ve had at the hand of other Christians if that opens the door. But then confirm that we all make mistakes, are all sinners. The question is no longer did someone wrong us, but have we wronged Christ by our prejudging of Him based on the faults of His followers. Because the point cuts both ways. Both sides have been stereotypically judgmental of the other.
So you hit reset with that, and then you’re off to show them the love of God and Christ and who they really are via His hands: you.
I didn’t know they’d made this into a movie. I enjoyed the trailer. I haven’t read the book, but have been meaning to forever. I’m going to get it on my Kindle now so I can read it before I see the movie. Until then, I’ll hold off until I can form my own opinion. As someone who every now and then wants to run screaming from my own religiosity and that around me and just get alone with God, I think I might end up seeing a little of myself in this. I guess I’ll find out. I hope the point ends up being, Just give me Jesus. (I don’t have an intelligent answer to your apology question. Apologizing for our faith is one thing, apologizing for the way we act is another. I’ve turned off to the gospel more than my fair share of people with a harsh word. I continue to wrestle…) Thanks Mike.
Mike, you said There will always be bigots, buffoons, legalists, and hypocrites in the Church.
Those who apologize on behalf of the Church seem to believe that Christ died for gays and drug addicts and prostitutes and porn stars. Could it be that we’ve lost sight of the fact that He also died for bigots and legalists and hypocrites?
No matter what our sin, we all stand in need of a Savior. The problem comes when sinners — whether hypocrites or prostitutes — don’t cry out for forgiveness.
Becky
Amen.
And AMEN again!
Truly well put. Once told a group of friends that, if put into a modern point-of-view, John 3:16 would read “world” as more of an extended cut… literally including every type of person there is. Then again, that’d also be the longest verse in the Bible.
I judged the book by the title and didn’t read it. Blue Like Jazz? Why is jazz blue, because it’s related to the blues? Does that make the book and author really cool, or what? I’m just not into hipsterdom.
Not all titles make sense at first glance, so you’d have to read into the story to catch the meaning. While reading Sigmund Brouwer’s The Canary List, for most of the book, I was trying to figure out why it had that title. Until close to the end, then it made sense when it was explained. A bit late, but the ambiguous title made sense.
I’m dealing with that kind of criticism, too. And here’s my take on that…how many Mormons do you hear criticizing their church? Maybe we should take that lesson because criticizing the Christian church isn’t glorifying to God at all.
To me, it’s a balance, Nikole. There is the verse about “judgment must begin in the house of God” and that we should “confess our faults to one another.” So I think the Church should be constantly checking itself, examining our doctrine and behavior. I just think the current trend has been to bash the church, more often than not resulting in caricatures rather than substantial critique.
There are a lot of bad Christians. Many of them are the ones who have forgotten that love is truth — that it isn’t always warm and fuzzy like Hollywood represents. Unfortunately, many modern-day Christians see truth-telling as cruel, and so they heavily criticize it in themselves and others. This, I believe, is hurting the Christian cause just as much as the brimstone.
Don’t know if I’d trust this film. . .
Okay, I guess my main issue here is that I don’t think that apologizing for the sins of the church equals criticizing the church. I do think that apologizing to people for how the church has hurt them can be used well for evangelism (I’m not saying that it always is, but that it can be).
So, for instance, I have a friend I met in college who is homosexual. His big experience of Christians was that someone threw a brick through his window… a brick with some Bible verses written on it. When he and I started talking about spiritual things, was it appropriate for me to apologize for that brick incident on behalf of all Christendom? Yeah, I think it was. I think that, at that moment, if I had shrugged and said, “I can’t apologize for that because I don’t want to criticize the church” I would have lost any opportunity to have a meaningful conversation. If I had said, “Oh, those people weren’t really Christians” I think I would have probably been lying, and it’s a lame way to sidestep the issue, essentially saying, “If someone hurt you or did something wrong to you, they were probably not Christians.” We all know that’s not true. They weren’t behaving in a Christ-like way, certainly. And I think it’s okay to admit that and show that, yes, we screw up.
Does this prevent me from saying that homosexuality is a sin? No, not at all. Do I need to be apologetic about that? No. I’m not apologizing for being a Christian or for believing things that hurt people’s feelings or are not politically correct. And even that can be done in a compassionate, loving way.
My read on Don’s outreach in Reed (and I know a few of the people who were involved at the time, well before the book came out) is that it was done well and with the intention of putting on the table, “Yes, we’ve messed up before. That doesn’t change the message of Christ.” Dan Merchant is a friend of mine, and I know that Dan will engage with people on hard questions and that he doesn’t settle for a fuzzy “Oh, you’re okay” approach when talking to non-believers about Christ. I guess what I’m saying is, we don’t have to keep apologizing forever… just so long as our sinful actions are hurting people. We don’t apologize for Christ, we don’t apologize for our beliefs or our counter-cultural points of view. We apologize when we hurt people by our lack of love.
Anyway, all that to say, I think this can be done well, and in a way that leads people toward Christ with no damage to the church, her reputation, or the moral stances of Christianity. That’s not to say it is always done well, just that it can be… and of course we can all have different opinions on when it is done well or poorly. Again, I’ve not seen Blue Like Jazz: the movie. It could be a complete train wreck. I’m just saying that philosophically, apologizing for the church might be dangerous or disadvantageous or difficult, but it’s also most certainly needed at times.
A few years ago I shared a little bit about this (it’s definitely a side note to the article… the article is mostly about defusing hostility in people while doing evangelism) in Discipleship Journal. Here’s a link for those who are interested: http://www.navpress.com/landing/content.aspx?id=1144&LangType=1033
Well, that was long winded and probably should have been a post on my blog. 🙂 Thanks, Mike. I appreciate how you bring up these great topics for discussion. I wished we lived closer so we could go to the movie together and discuss it afterwards. Maybe we’ll have to do a joint blog post! I wasn’t planning to go to the movie before this post, but now I feel like I need to go and see how it balances this whole thing.
Good points, Matt. Where I would adjust is that I don’t think it is that beneficial to apologize for the Church. One, because you don’t represent the Church by yourself. Two, the Church didn’t do that to them, individual, maybe misguided, Christians did that to them. They are the ones who need to apologize. If they don’t, it doesn’t mean anything for me to apologize for them, because it is meaningless if I do.
And the options aren’t the ones you mention. What we can do is acknowledge that injustice was committed. You could have said, “Yes, it was wrong of them to throw that brick through your window. Very unChrist-like. Hopefully they will learn what being a Christian really means.” Then you refocus on them.
There is no way I can apologize for other individuals or for the Church. But I can show compassion for whatever injustice they have experienced at the hands of Christians. And that is sincere. My apology doesn’t mean anything, unless understood as being that, and not what I’m saying. That I’m acknowledging the injustice done to them, the unchristian attitude that some Christians show as their light before the world.
But it wasn’t the Church that did this to them. It was individuals. So there’s no point in apologizing for the Church, even if you were the Pope.
I have no issue with that, R. L., and I think that acknowledging injustice would be sufficient in most situations. My read of the “confessional” in Blue Like Jazz (the book) and the one in “Lord, Save Us” was that they are saying, essentially, that: hey, we (Christians) messed up. I was a part of that, one way or another. I’m sorry you experienced that at the hands of Christians. My hope is that, starting today, you can have a different experience with us.
And I’m not sure how to take “the Church didn’t do this to them.” If the Church isn’t responsible for the negative actions of individuals within it, one way or another, then the Church isn’t responsible for the benefits brought to society from individuals within the Church, either. Which, it seems to me, means the church has no impact on society of any sort. I’m guessing I’m not understanding what you mean here, though, as I assume it’s not that.
We might have different definitions of “church.” I’m thinking in terms of the Body of Christ. The Church is a collection of individuals united in Christ. There may be an administrative unit that functions as the representatives of that body, depending on what group you are in.
The Church isn’t an “individual” who can apologize, because unless the whole Body of Christ does it, you don’t have the Church. And then it would need to be Christ who apologizes.
But Jesus said there would be tares among the wheat. Also, we are humans, sinners, and we make mistakes, etc. But those are individuals that do that. How can an “abstract” entity like the Church apologize? And how can I as one member of that Church apologize for what other members have done? I just don’t get it. My apology for them would seem pointless since I’m not them.
And the members of the Church do a lot of great things we never get acknowledged for or praised, which is fine because Christ said that’s the way it should be. An administrative unit may also be at fault for mistakes and such, and they should then apologize to any they have offended or done wrong to.
And finally, any benefit that even I contribute is due to Christ. And any wrong I commit is due to me. So it is easy to attribute the good things to Christ and the Church, His Body, and any errors to myself, and those I should humbly admit to and apologize for when necessary. So unless we are willing to attribute those sins to Christ, those injustices to Christ, I would find it weird for the Church to need to apologize over anything. To do so would seem to make Christ less than divine.
I don’t think we have different definitions here, just a differing view of the practicality of getting into the more mystical aspects of the church, what it is and how it functions when in conversation with a hurt non-believer.
Regardless, I think you and I would say something similar to non-believers who have been hurt (at least it sounds like). Maybe I would say I am apologizing for the actions of other Christians, you would say you are showing compassion for the injustices caused by those claiming to be Christian. If the upshot is the same, I have no issue.
It sounds like we can agree that there are people who have been harmed by those claiming to be followers of Christ, and that we, as representatives of Christ, can enter into those situations and say, “This is not as it should be” and use that as a way to talk about what relationship with Christ truly is.
One of the watershed moments of my early Christian experience was entering a new church and finding myself talking with the pastor about the old one–the first church I had ever been in, as a secularist gone Christian.
In the first one, I was expected to automatically and instantly know all the unspoken internal politics of behavior and dress, and I was socially punished for not doing so. As if those were things that were supposed to be conferred by the spiritual mechanics of salvation, or something.
In the second church, when I explained my confusion about this stuff, the pastor simply said gently, “I’m sorry to hear that. That should not have happened to you.”
That was a profound statement. And for the next several years, we saw him build a congregation on a combination of that compassion and solid preaching. People drove distances from around our rural region to find that combination.
That’s spiritual health.
And to me it’s a no-brainer. Grace is a natural part of a functioning Christian community. Ranting on the church culture, spiritual relativism and fashionable rebellion are empty windsocks by comparison.
When that pastor retired from the second church, the leadership situation devolved into political conformity to an internally-defined relativism, in the name of “not offending the community” and “improving the church’s image.” The polity became directed by whatsoever causeth the congregation to complain the least about feeling embarrassed of their Christianity. It was all like “Institutional church. Awk-ward! So sorry!”
Some time after we left, we learned that they had pulled aside their latest pastor and ordered him not to give the gospel to anyone around town, period, ever, because it was too offensive.
In the process of apologizing for itself, the church became the New Legalist. The core doctrines and personal freedoms of the faith got trampled just as surely as by Old Legalism. Same damage done to others, different packaging.
“I just think the current trend has been to bash the church, more often than not resulting in caricatures rather than substantial critique.”
What Mike said. It can become a vicious cycle, because in apologizing, we can begin playing to the caricatures rather than addressing genuine problems. So in a generic sense, my concern is that people who are seeking spiritual health not get tangled up in windsocks.
By the way, Matt, I’m a HUGE fan of Imaginary Jesus. Very cool to cross paths with you here.
Hey C.L. I’m starting to get confused by all the initials being used in the comments section, ha ha ha.
Hey, what you describe here is fine with me… and I’m definitely not a fan of watering down the gospel in favor of currying favor with people. But I’m also all for transparency and compassion when interacting with wounded non-believers. And what you say about New and Old Legalism is legitimate… I’ve seen that, too.
I guess it’s that whole “grace and truth” paradigm. We need to use both, not one or the other.
And I’m glad to hear you’re a fan of IJ. 🙂 Mike and I have become buddies online, so I like to lurk around and see what he’s up to a few times a week.
Have you seen the new cover for IJ? It just came out this week… and the book is called “My Imaginary Jesus” now, because too many people got confused, thinking the book was anti-Christian because of the name and cover of the first edition.
Cathi-Lyn. 🙂 Or just Cat. Nice to “meet” you.
I was just over to your place, did the whole newsletter signup thing, and I did see that. I have to confess I miss the funky sunglasses just a little. 🙂
It’s been years since I’ve laughed out loud that much at a book. Or been pranked that effectively by an author. (I’ll refrain from spoiler talk.) Nice going, man. Nice going.
There are certain scenes in that book that make me happy because I know the reader had no idea they were walking into my trap. 🙂
I miss the sunglasses, too. Poor Imaginary Jesus. We had to tame him for the Christian book-buying public.
Okay, just so you know, that newsletter is ridiculously infrequent. I think “bi-annual” would probably be generous. Glad you liked the book.
“There are certain scenes in that book that make me happy because I know the reader had no idea they were walking into my trap.”
Oh, I could just tell. I nearly vicariously killed you. Then I was like, “you devilish mastermind! Now I’m forced to let your genius live on to create again!”
“bi-annual” is fine. I know where you live on Twitter. 🙂
Aw, I’m so sorry he had to be tamed. But I’m delighted to encounter actual creative nonfiction in the CBA. I’ve worked on projects labeled “creative nonfiction,” and it really wasn’t. Narrative NF, yes, but not the cool wild-imaginings-warp-on-everyday-reality stuff that I associate with the term. (I’m Canadian, we do that stuff.)
My editor has, of course, duly warned me about trying that in the CBA…but I hope IJ is an early harbinger of literary growth in our sector.
One of our biggest difficulties has been how to market the book… your editor is right that it’s not common in the CBA, and the audience doesn’t know what to do with it. The repackage is part of trying to make it a little more clear to the audience what they are getting, and trying to make them feel better about it (i.e. that they aren’t risking much in buying the book). We’ll see how it goes!
“But where are the takeaways??” Yeah. 🙂 I’ll be interested to see how it goes, for sure. All power to you–it’s one of the smartest things I’ve read in awhile.
A much better Christian apologetic is Galaxy Quest: even when you become a parody of yourself, “Never give up. Never surrender.”
If we are going to dance that ridiculously unorthodox method of witnessing by confessing our sins to the sinners, we should at least do as Jesus commanded us, and have a weapon strapped on, just in case. Luke 22:36.
Reed College. hmmm… Claremont School of Theology, Los Angeles. I can say that. I went there.