I remember reading this, along with a few other provocative quotes, in February over at Inhabitatio Dei. Leave it to Stanley Hauerwas to stir the pot:
“How many of you worship in a church that recognizes ‘Mother’s Day’? I am sorry to tell you that your salvation is in doubt.”
And, before you accuse Hauerwas of being an anti-grace, works-righteousness heretic, realize that the quote needs to be taken in context. You can disagree, but I don’t think he is spouting easily dismissable heresy.
More thoughts have been spurred by reading the opening essay by Kevin Vanhoozer in the book he recently edited: Everyday Theology: How to Read Cultural Texts and Interpret Trends
First, a cultural text, like written discourse, has a locutionary dimension and employs either language or some other signifying medium (e.g., art, television, film, music, products, social practices). Second, cultural discourse raises the same questions about its illocutionary act as does written or oral discourse, namely what is a cultural text doing in saying/showing/signing such and such? Third, cultural discourse achieves certain effects (e.g., cultivation, spiritual formation) by saying/showing/signing. (45)
The CliffsNotes version:
Think of the common prohibition to yell “Fire!” in a crowded movie theater. Such a prohibition is not based on the locution of the act, because it is not criminal to speak, or even to generally yell in a crowded movie theater. I could talk to my wife about the campfire we had at youth group and not worry about being given a citation. The problem with yelling “Fire!” in a crowded movie theater is its illocutionary and perlocutionary effect: the desire to bring about and subsequent bringing about of needless mass chaos, hysteria, injury, trampling, etc.
If you think about it, many laws operate in the these arenas. But at times, Christians have been known to only worry about the locutionary aspects of cultural texts to determine if they are appropriate or not. See this quote by Vanhoozer:
To be sure, Christians should not rush to judgment on the basis of superficial criteria. It is not enough to simply know that there are “bad words” in a film, for this takes us only as far as locutions. Of much greater importance are the illocutions and perlocutions: what is the cultural text doing with these bad words and what effects does it bring about by using them in just this way? (53)
Where Vanhoozer does not go with his argument is to point out that context matters greatly when dealing with perlocutions. I can yell “Fire!” almost anywhere without repercussion. But because of the context of a crowded movie theater, performing that same act produces a completely different (and criminal) perlocutionary effect.
The point I would like to make is that a perlocution of a text upon an individual greatly changes with the development of the individual. Thus, lots of “bad words” in the ears of a small child will likely result in that child repeating those words with a degree of harmless innocence. Take that same exposure to “bad words” to an upper elementary child and they will likely repeat the words but often with malicious and prideful (“I cuss therefore I am cool”) intent. A teenager has oftentimes moved past the prideful dimension of cussing, but is still likely to use the words derogatorily in an attempt to gain social capital. Married adults secure in themselves often simply use those same words because that is the only way they know how to talk. So, the exposure to certain words has different perlocutions depending upon the development of a person. That is why a 24 year old like myself can watch and see certain things that we don’t want a 5 year old to see; it really is a completely different scenario.
This also shows the logic behind the idea that we shape things and then our things shape us. The cell phone is invented (locution) in order to ease communication between people and to make a profit (illocutions), but the inventors of the cell phone have absolutely no control over the perlocution. The perlocution (one of which is making people work-a-holics) is determined after the “text” of the cell phone has achieved widespread acceptance. Most ads work this same way. They all have the same basic illocution. What are ads doing? They are trying to make you want their product. But there are ripple effects of the perlocution of that ad and the culmination of thousands of ads that drastically shapes our culture. They shape identity, define worth, cause people to go into debt, and so on.
I enjoyed Vanhoozer’s essay immensely, as it provided some sound ground for evaluating things in culture. We do need to get beyond the locutionary dimension of cultural texts and really ask what the illocutionary and perlocutionary effects are of commonly accepted cultural texts like advertising, education, text-messaging, and more. And we must do all this, especially people working with children and teenagers, with the understanding that similar texts can have vastly different effects upon individuals (and communities for that matter) based on their context and development.
(PS – I know the title on this post is obscenely long, elitist, and high-snootin’, but I’m doing a little experiment to see how well I get ranked in search engines for these obscure words.)
As I said yesterday, I hoped to pick up a good book in the evening, and I did. I’ve been looking forward to reading Everyday Theology since it first came out. I’ve been a fan of Vanhoozer ever since I was introduced to him in Dr. Castleman’s class. I expect this to be a somewhat “practical” book that will be especially helpful for doing youth ministry theologically. I’ll give more insight about this particular book as I read more of it. My expectations are already high, so I hope it doesn’t let me down. I had high hopes for the book How to Think Theologically by Howard Stone and James Duke but was a bit disappointed.
Until then, here is the blurb from Amazon.com:
Everyday theology is the reflective and practical task of living each day as faithful disciples of Jesus Christ. In other words, theology is not just for Sundays, and it’s not just for professional theologians. Everyday Theology teaches all Christians how to get the theological lay of the land. It enables them to become more conscious of the culture they inhabit every day so that they can understand how it affects them and how they can affect it. If theology is the ministry of the Word to the world, everyday theologians need to know something about that world, and Everyday Theology shows them how to understand their culture make an impact on it. Engaging and full of fresh young voices, this book is the first in the new Cultural Exegesis series.
My last post created a decent amount of discussion. Essentially, my question was, What might be a more theologically accurate name for a missional relationship (as opposed to the typical “mission trip”)? Reminder: these are the (very basic) qualifications for a theologically-grounded missional relationship:
A few less-than-desirable descriptors came to mind:
The best label for this that has come to mind thus far is:
Does anyone else have other ideas?
Coming up with a name is pretty easy. The difficult part will be communicating to our students, parents, and church leadership why we are considering some significant changes to the way we approach what is likely the most well-attended, most-anticipated youth group event of the year, the mission trip. Once that happens, of course, then you have to actually establish and carry out one of these cross-cultural partnerships. Easier said than done.
(Is it sinful to title something provocatively in hopes that people will read it?)
Today in class we talked about mission trips. As tends to happen in seminary classes, we ended up quite critical of popular practice. Thankfully, we moved beyond deconstruction and towards construction of a proper mission trip-ish type experience. Something that tended to come out, based on the theological convictions espoused in the class, were mission trips that:
In discussing these things and seeing the theological importance of such an approach I was struck by just how deficient is the label “Mission Trip.” The label seems to designate within it something detached from local context, temporary, and for the benefit of “our” group. Maybe that is just the baggage the phrase has taken upon itself by the practices of the western church, but that is what comes to my mind.
If we are going to move towards theologically-grounded missional relationships, perhaps we need to call them by something different than a “mission trip”, because it is more than a “trip.” It is a relationship. What should we call it? Should we call it anything?
… as explained by Andrew Root. According to Root, in CD 4.3 Barth argues the following about the church:
Humbling and thought-provoking.
Since I haven’t exactly started reading Church Dogmatics and expect it to be a few years after I start reading them (if I ever do) until I will find my way to 4.3, for now I’ll take Root’s word that this is Barth’s argument.
… from class this week that have been rolling through my mind (well, they may be close paraphrases, but you get the idea):
Speaking of class–I was afraid this would happen–my amazon.com wish list has grown my six more items. Crap.
In the class I am currently taking at Luther, we are studying the theology of ministry. More specifically, we are studying the “theology of the cross” as a foundation for ministry. To put it way too simplistically, the theology of the cross is essentially the understanding that the place where God breaks into the world and acts is in the midst of human suffering (the point of ex nihilo). Perhaps this theology may not be sufficient to be the only lens through which we understand God and the world, but it is certainly a lens.
If this theology is foundational to ministry, and I believe it is, then our churches are in for a rude awakening. It seems to me that the normative virtue in many churches today is that of comfort. Decisions are often made in such a way that the congregation is inconvenienced in the least possible way. Comfort is our normative theological virtue.
However, the theology of the cross states the act of God breaking into our world occurs not when we are joyful and comfortable, but when we are downtrodden, despaired, ex nihilo. This is not to say that churches should seek out suffering, but that churches should not fear it. To face suffering will require inconvenience upon a church. When a wife loses a husband, the children might need to be picked up from school. When someone loses a job, what true inconvenience would it be for the church to forego the usual Sunday morning treats (which are always claimed to be for the visitors, but the visitors are often too afraid to wade through the sea of members already eating the food) for a few weeks in order to free up some cash to help this family in transition? Or what if the church decided, instead of a capital campaign for building improvements, to keep the dirty walls and to hold a capital campaign in order to be able to assist members of the community when needs arise? All of these things allow the church to participate in and speak to the suffering of our brothers and sisters, but they would also require inconvenience.
Perhaps we should look to the difficult, odd, and uncomfortable as the starting place of action in the church rather than the way of the tried-and-true, path-of-least-resistance, or way-we’ve-always-done-things. Perhaps we would find ourselves closer to the ministry of God.
It has begun. I’m taking my first seminary class at Luther Seminary (where it is currently 34 degrees–fairly mild) called Ministry with Children, Youth, and Family: Theological and Strategic Frameworks (with Andrew Root). Or it could be called Theology for Ministry with Children, Youth, and Families, if that makes more sense. Two of the foundational texts for the class are:
by Douglas John Hall. This is a brief systematic-ish theology looking through the lens of the theology of the cross. It was pretty good and stands in start contrast to some of the popular ministry principles of the church. by Ray Anderson. I’ve just started this book, but it’s basic premise is that to do ministry is to do theology. A quote:Whether we realize it or not, every act of ministry reveals something of God. By act of ministry I mean a sermon preached, a lesson taught, a marriage performed, counsel offered, and any other word or act that people might construe as carrying God’s blessing, warning, or judgment (7).
Anderson’s book is good thus far, and I’m curious to see how he develops ministry as distinct from life. It seems to me that the statement could also be made (and I tend to make it) that to live life is to do theology, that every act of ours speaks of God, whether it is “ministry” or not.
I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Castleman, whose classes during undergrad instilled within me a love for theology. It is so much easier to participate in and interact with (and understand!) the class because of my theological background. It makes class really enjoyable when you don’t have to worry about what words mean or tons of concepts are brand-new.
I was a little worried that there would be a lot of overlap between my undergraduate education and my current classes, but with this class that hasn’t been the case. I’m sure classes like church history will seem redundant.
On another note, it has definitely been interesting to be at an official ELCA seminary where the majority of the students are lifelong ELCA church-goers. And there is chapel every single day. I haven’t been, yet.
Sorry to interrupt the regularly-scheduled Neo-Youth Ministry Series programming, but I wanted to address something about the series.
You may notice I don’t talk about the Bible much in these posts. There is a reason for that. Quite simply, I’m trying to keep my posts fairly short. I want these to be able to be read easily the first time you glance at it. I could write longer posts, but then you’d need to schedule reading my blog into your calendar. I don’t want that. (Nor do I think anyone would actually do that. Well, Brit might.)
So, I don’t have a whole lot of space to go into the biblical and theological basis of a lot of my convictions. For instance, you may be asking why in my recent post I think that local and contextual is better than big and pre-packaged. I have many a biblical and theological reason for that, I can assure you. My convictions are a result of a lot of reading, reflecting, discussing, praying, ministering, living, and all that. I refuse to simply quote a bible verse in every post in order to make it “biblical.” That does an injustice to the depth at which those of us in youth ministry need to be considering these issues. I believe my posts are already biblical because I think they line up with scripture, not because I stick a reference onto every post.
Perhaps one day I will make a series of posts on the biblical and theological basis of my convictions. But it would be too long to try and do that all at once right now. For now, you will just see the (current state of my) conclusions in the Neo-Youth Ministry Series.
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