ken wilson online

So I wrote this book to be released by Thomas Nelson by the end of May. It’s called Jesus Brand Spirituality: He Wants His Religion Back. I decided to write it as non-defensively as possible. Such a counter-intuitive posture for a pastor to assume. Every week give or take, you’re out there saying something, and of course, you get feedback, much of it positive, but also, of course, you get negative feedback, usually by way of email which comes at you cold–heartless words somehow. Even when when the words are written with a warm heart, something about the medium seems to strip the words bare.

And the brain–the receiving brain, that is–seems to latch on to the bare words, the ones that have been stripped of their warm heart, and these words get seared somehow neurologically. A strange phenomenon indeed, isn’t it? Warm and encouraging words seem to pass by like chimera, and these other words land, insert themselves like fish hooks. The process creates a posture: defensiveness.

It’s the bane of pastoring, and it affects the voice of the pastor. Talk a little, duck a little, talk a little duck a little, talk, talk, talk, duck a lot, duck a little more. Say things with an ear for the critic, and it ruins the way you say them.

And the effect on the Jesus faith is toxic, because it’s meant to be a risk taking faith, an upside down, inside out look. Jesus spoke to and for the people on the outside of religion look in. And something about that tone or angle or concern made him vulnerable to those on the inside of religion looking out. They sensed he wasn’t speaking to them or for them, and they were used to being the audience.

Blogs invite rambling and I am, I realize. Perhaps because I don’t know yet what I’m trying to say.

Oh, yes defensiveness in tone.

But something about the actual writing of a book compared with the giving of a sermon allows space for deciding not to yield to the defensive temptation. You’re holed up somewhere writing and the only audience is the one in your mind’s eye. Who it is you’re writing this book for. And it’s gestation period is long. Measured in months that can stretch into a year. So this give you what my son calls breathing room.

I recall specific sentences in the writing of the book where the temptation–I think that’s what it was–to write defensively came. First chapter, and I’m imagining myself as a disbelieving nineteen year old again, only considering the dominant Christian faith of 2007, rather than the emerging Jesus movement of 1971, when I was nineteen and disbelieving. And empathizing with my imagined disbelieving self, I write honestly about how I would recoil at the Christian message as it’s often presented now, with a certain hard-edged aggression. As though to believe I’d have to swallow a pre-packaged faith whole. Virgin birth, heaven and hell, the Bible as the unquestioned word of God, where would it end?

Right there, I got nervous writing. Shouldn’t I clarify for the reader that I believe in the virgin birth, and heaven and hell, properly understood–which I’m still working on–and the bible’s reliability, shouldn’t I clarify (defensively, a c.y.a. move) what I mean and what I don’t? Because a Christian book, after all, is read by Christians, and they are an opinionated bunch, concerned about right thinking and on the look out for wrong thinking. Shouldn’t I, right here in the manuscript, add a sentence to clarify?

(I mean, the tribe, my religious one that is, is nervous right now about all the changes afoot.  So one of the leaders of the national association of evangelicals gets excited about the gospel’s capacity to address climate change and he speaks up about this, and another BIG NAME evangelical leader circulates a letter demanding this man’s resignation for dividing the evangelical camp. Say what? So one cannot be too careful in a tribe like this.)

No. Because that communicates to the person listening in on the conversation that this guy is worried about something. He’s part of a movement where people jump on you if they disagree with you. So he’s putting his guard up. Which means if I buy what he’s selling, I’ll have to watch myself. And I’ve got all these questions, and wherever it is he makes his home is not a place that I can ask them without making people nervous. So maybe this is not a place for me. It doesn’t feel like a place where I’m free to be myself or to find myself in freedom.

And I had these specific people in mind to whom I was writing. None of them had any investment in the evangelical tribe, per se. Whether they were in or out made no difference to them. Four specific individuals–somehow I got it in my mind that if I wrote the book to them and for them it would be a better book.

Now the book is actually coming out, I’m a little nervous. Too late!

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 10th, 2008 at 4:59 am and is filed under jesus brand spirituality. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.