A Response to Mark Labberton’s “Called, The Crisis and Promise of Following Jesus Today.”

Full disclosure: I know Mark Labberton; I know him well enough to hold him in high esteem, well enough to be certain that he wants the church to thrive in the 21^st Century for all the right reasons. He wants shalom to reign on the earth . . . me too. It can also be said that we are of very different theological ilk. What follows is a letter to Mark that takes some issue with his book. (Parts of it were fabulous though – especially the parts on wisdom.)  I’m hoping that the tone of a letter will be less combative and more human. Didn’t really work for the Apostle in II Corinthians, but heck, it’s worth a try :-). However it sounds, Mark, my genuine respect and love for you as Christian brother remain.

Dear Mark,

I read Called, The Crisis and Promise of Following Jesus Today, and in truth I was a bit surprised – at least by the first half of the book. In those first 6 chapters it seemed like you were saying something like, “If only all of us in the church would just do a better job of following Jesus, then suffering on this planet would be a thing of the past.” Anyway, that’s how I felt when I was reading it. I felt like you were coming down pretty hard telling us we’re doing a lousy job of following Jesus. I’m still enough of a Calvinist that I’ll have to at least grant the possibility that I’m not following Jesus adequately J. In fact I’m sure that’s true, and even though I have every intention to continue improving, I’m pretty confident it will always be true. That’s why the first half of the book troubled me. Does the reversal of our world’s suffering really depend on the likes of me, or the fine folk at FPCSR or FPCB, (our respective congregations)? If so, we’re in serious trouble.

I really am wondering if I understood you right. You say, “Is there any reason to think that the trajectory of human suffering and injustice or social entropy can actually be stopped or reversed” (p. 18)? And then go on to answer that by saying, “God’s people are sent as God’s reassuring response to these questions. But that can be evident only if we live honestly and fully before God and our neighbor” (p. 19). Do I understand this right? In order for the world to have hope that the trajectory of human suffering can be reversed, the church, (an experience of which you say later, “renders us needy of the gospel,” (p. 106 – love that line by the way), must do a better job of following Jesus? We’ve been at this for 2000 years; I don’t think I’m going too far out on a limb to say that as long as homo sapiens are homo sapiens, that’s never going to happen. (Whether it will happen when we evolve into another species is an open question.)

But I’m not even sure you mean that. (Though I’m willing to be corrected.) What I’m thinking now is that it’s got to be a rhetorical strategy to give our modernist church the kick in the ass it so richly deserves. Real hope though, real hope for the reversal of suffering, does not derive from the followers of Jesus, (whether in a state of forgiveness or otherwise), rather, it comes from the power of God to transform lives – Christian or otherwise. The crisis facing the church in our time is not an issue of whether we adequately “live out our imitation of Jesus” in our own unique way, (p. 45). No, the crisis has come because we have not laid claim to the enormous power inherent to a call of the gospel. I simply don’t believe that we are called to become like Jesus, incarnate, the Word made flesh. I believe we are called to become an incarnation of the Word ourselves – each and every one of us a unique expression of the Word made flesh. When we wrap our arms around that reality, a very different kind of believing community will erupt onto the scene.

I just can’t get my head around the idea that the four gospel narratives were written to tell us how cool Jesus was and then by comparison how pathetic and hopeless we are. These holy and gorgeous texts are there as pointing out instructions, directing us along what John’s gospel called “the way.” The stories of Jesus in Scripture are paradigmatic of our lives lived out in union with Christ. This way claims all of us, it dismantles the false self, that complex of wounds, entanglements, relationships good and bad, talents and circumstances we use to define ourselves and separate ourselves one from another. This way calls us into union with the power of Word, the very Word that has unfolded this creative project from the Big Bang to Shakespeare. Sourced by that power, united in love, each of us are called, indeed obligated to offer a unique expression of the love and intelligence now animating creation, the love that draws all things together in perfect harmony. This is the flourishing you spoke of Mark. It is the way of the Beloved, the way of Wisdom, and the way of Suffering. It is the way of Hope and the only way that gives life meaning. Each of us is a gorgeous expression of the love of God and our call is to become what we are. It just seems to me that it’s that message, and NOT the people who proclaim it, that gives us hope in the power of God to reverse the trajectory of human suffering.

Grace and peace,

Rev. Sam Alexander