Blue Like Jazz, Chapters 9 and 10

Chapter 9 is titled "Change." In this chapter, Miller discusses his transformation from a fundamentalist variety of Christianity to one that is more "personal" and "authentic"--the time in which he made his true commitment to Jesus Christ. Miller paints a nice picture with his words concerning his experience in the Grand Canyon, under the vast amounts of stars, making his peace with God.

However, the interesting part for me came at the end of the chapter.

As I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there [beyond the stars in the sky] somewhere...this time I felt it, I realized it, the way a person realizes that they are hungry or thirsty. The knowledge of God seeped out of my brain and into my heart. I imagined Him looking down to this earth, half angry because his beloved mankind had cheated on Him, had committed adultery, and yet hopelessly in love with her, drunk with love for her...

...I am wanted by God. He is wanting to preserve me...

To describe God as "drunk with love" more than bothers me. To me, this sentiment makes God seem emotionally out of control. God's actions are not driven by emotion. If this is Miller's "knowledge of God", then He doesn't know the God of the Bible very well. God is not "in love" with creation. Matter a fact, God is more than "half-angry"; He is wrathful. To say that God is "in love" transforms God's love from something that is expressed in selfless action to that which is expressed in mere romantic feelings. Such romanticism may make the reader have warm fuzzies, but it does not express God's hostility, wrath, and judgment towards sin. A depraved sinner has little problem believing in a God who overlooks sin, but only those sinners convicted by God's grace accept a God whose holy (a word yet to be discussed by Miller) love still demands a propitiation for sin...

Miller opens chapter 10 like this:

My most recent faith struggle is not one of intellect. I really don't do that anymore. Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don't believe in God and they can prove He doesn't exist, and some other guys who do believe in God and they can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now it's about who is smarter, and honestly I don't care.

This is one of the most arrogant and judgmental statements in the entirety of the book (besides the consistent stabs at Republicans). The now all-wise Miller dismisses--in a mere half-paragraph--the need of a field of study that generations of brilliant Christians have devoted their entire lives to: apologetics. Augustine, Anselm, Pascal, Luther, Calvin, C. S. Lewis, Van Til, Clark, Ravi Zacharias (a name mentioned favorably by Miller later in the book), and a host of others all have wasted their mental capacities in demonstrating that they are smarter than the atheists. Of course they had no genuine devotion of Christ--as least not a strong as Miller's.

Honestly, I wanted to stop the book review at this point. This run-on sentence is completely irresponsible and hypocritical--the smugness of the tone implied that he was smarter than those whom he was critiquing.

...I realized that believing in God is much like falling in love as it is like making a decision. Love is both something that happens to you and something you decide upon.

This is the definition of synergism without using theological terms. There are many astute theologians (Norman Geisler, for example) that are synergists; they believe that conversion is the result of a cooperation of the human will with the divine. If the human will does not cooperate, there is no conversion. I am a monergist; I hold that the human will cannot cooperate with the divine influence, unless the divine manifests a change within the obstinate heart of the human being. Ultimately, conversion is the result of God's providential influence over the heart of the sinner--not the sinner's cooperation.

According to Miller, belief is something that "happens to you" [the divine will] and something "you decide upon" [the human will]. To justify this theology, Miller cites no Scripture, no astute theologian; only anecdotal evidence based solely in his experience as a Christian.

Can you imagine if Christians actually believed that God was trying to rescue them from the pit of their own self-addiction? Can you imagine? Can you imagine what Americans would do if they understood over half of the world was living in poverty? Do you think it would change they way they live, the products they purchase, and the politicians they elect? [Page 106-107]

God is not trying to rescue us from "the pit our own self-addiction." God does not try to do anything--He does all He intends to do (Isaiah 46:10). He does not need us to cooperate in order to rescue us, and when He does rescue us, He saves us from the pits of a fiery and eternal hell!

Don, I forgive you for the shameless liberal plug in the second half of this excerpt--even though it is a non-sequitur.

The problem with Christian belief--I mean real Christian belief, the belief that there is a God and a devil and a heaven and a hell--is that it is not a fashionable thing to believe. [Page 107]

Miller then goes on to criticize the attempts of the church to make Christian belief to seem cool--which to me completely undermines a purpose of this book. The whole book is an attempt to make Christianity seem more appealing to his audience--to make it seem exciting, cool, and something that agrees with the political left. Yet again, Miller comes off as a hypocritical to me, and if I were an unbeliever, I would not only think this repackaged Christianity as uncool, but dishonest as well. Kudos on finally mentioning hell, though. It's about time.

All great Christian leaders are simple thinkers. Andrew [an activist friend of his who is known for protesting conservative politics] doesn't cloak his altruism in a trickle-down economic theory that allows him to spend fifty dollars on a round of golf to feed the economy and provide jobs for the poor. He actually believes that when Jesus says to feed the poor, He means that you should do this directly.

More conservative caricatures. Most evangelical Christians who are politically conservative, that loathsome Religious Right, are so because of moral issues like abortion, euthanasia, and gay-marriage--not for economical issues. Most of them don't even know what trickle-down economic theory is. Some do. However, contrary to Miller's stereotype, when compared to any demographic in the nation, this group gives more in direct charitable contributions to churches and organizations that give to the poor--both in numbers and percentages of annual income. They are extremely generous on the whole--save the prosperity theologians. Honestly, these subtle condemnations of Republican Christians are too numerous--and I needed to get this off my chest. I promise to stick to theology from now on.

From here Miller makes some great points: Miller criticizes postmodernity (although he seems a bit post-modern in his theology). It's "another tool of Satan to get people to be passionate about nothing." Agreed. On the last page of Chapter 10, Miller tells us, "Jesus is the most important figure in history, and the gospel is the most powerful force in the universe." Again, agreed. However, what is the gospel? What gives the gospel it's power? These questions Miller has not clearly answered.

James White Answered One of my Questions...

I am honored to have James White, a well known Christian apologist and Reformed theologian, answer a question I submitted to him on his radio broadcast. Here is a link to the recording, and he answers my question starting at 18:43. (18 min and 33 seconds).

As I was reading Matthew, I came across this in 11:20-23:

20 Then He began to rebuke the cities in which most of His mighty works had been done, because they did not repent: 21 "Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. 22 But I say to you, it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you. 23 And you, Capernaum, who are exalted to heaven, will be brought down to Hades; for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. 24 But I say to you that it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for you."

Those of you who read my blog on a regular basis know that I am Reformed in my theology, and have been so since 2002. I believe that the whole counsel of Scripture supports the Calvinist position, and I have heard few credible arguments against it--and no "unanswerable" ones.

However, there are times that I come across verses that seem to support the opposing position. The first "point" of Calvinism is Total Depravity, which describes humankind as completely fallen and depraved in nature. His inclination is always toward sin and rebellion, and because of this nature, man has not the ability to choose God on his own. Left to his own devices and given a choice between himself, an idol, or God, God would never be his choice.

I noticed that an implication could be drawn from the passage above that undermine the doctrine of Total Depravity. So I sent James White this email:

As a Calvinist, I have a question about Matthew 11:23..[Citation of the Verse]...and its implication on Reformed Theology, particularly Total Depravity. I've heard Reformed preachers say that it shows that God does not intend for all to be saved, which I agree with, I see that it demonstrates that God chose not to show them such mighty works and not give them the opportunity to repent.

However, if an opponent of Reformed theology were to use this verse in connection to Total Depravity--not necessarily God's election--and argue the verse in this manner:

"This verse implies that man is not totally depraved, for Jesus even said that if the people of Sodom would have seen his works, they would have believed--implying that they have the ability to believe."

How would you respond?

I haven't personally recieved this objection, but I as I was reading this verse, I noticed that it could be taken in such a way.

Thanks.

Brent Railey, Baton Rouge, LA

Dr. White's response was quite lengthy, about 7 minutes, and it was quite good. It was the approach I would have taken with my deficient ability to analyze the Greek, and the approach is called the Analogy of Faith--let Scripture interpret Scripture. No Scripture should ever be interpreted in isolation to a point that it is contrary to the general teaching of the Bible. Essentially, the opponent has tried to unpack the assumptions behind Jesus' words, and has not done a good job of it.

I know that there aren't cookie cutter answers for every Arminian verse in the Bible, and I wasn't looking for one. I only wanted to see if I was overlooking something obvoius in the text. The overall concern of the text is the proclamation of judgment. Christ makes a comparison of the Jewish cities to those of Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom, and Christ deemed it important to tell them that those cities would have repented had they seen Christ's works. Hence, because the Jews were more hardened, they face harsher judgment.

The works of Christ are not the works of a mere man--they are the work of God. Christ said that it would have taken a work of God to penetrate the hearts of those in Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom and cause them to repent. Without them, they obviously didn't repent. Hence, there is no implied ability in this text, or else Christ would have said "some did believe all on their own." In fact, there is an equal, if not a heavier, implication that it would have required a work on God's part to cause those in Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom to repent.

Even if the above implication [that man has the ability to repent] were true, the opposing postion has not gained any ground on this passage. If God intends and desires all to be saved, why didn't God show Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom his mighty works?

Why "Seeker Sensitive" Does Not Work...

...If by work one means eternal accomplishment. Yeah, it might draw in fantastic crowds and fill the heart with warm fuzzy wuzzies, but "seeker sensitive" pragmatism fails on one of its primary assumptions: the seeker knows his true needs.

Modern day seeker sensitive practices can trace some roots back the pragmatic revivalist movement that began in the 1800s, pioneered by a heretic named Charles Finney.

On this post at www.oldtruth.com, Jim cites Ichabod Spencer's (a contemporary to the mid 1800s) comments on the revivalist movement. My favorite part:

It is better to trouble his conscience, than to please his heart. A convicted sinner is the last person in the world to judge justly, in regard to the kind of instruction he needs. He will seize error more readily than truth, and if his tastes are consulted, his soul will be endangered. In consulting such tastes lies the cunning art deceivers, who lead crowds to admire them, and run after them, and talk of them, while they care not for the truth, "deceiving and being deceived."

Decisions Always Have Consequences

A couple of years ago, I was listening to a radio program on a New Orleans radio station (it could have been a syndicated show) featuring a guest "relationship expert." On this show, a young lady called in seeking advice in her current relationship. She was cohabitating with a man and she wanted to marry him, but he kept refusing. This "relationship expert's" advice was to "get pregnant."

I was completely shocked at the selfishness of this advice. My first thought was, what if that doesn't work, then she is stuck pregnant and alone--and now there are three people involved in the dilemma, not just two. What is she supposed to do, abort? To use a pregnancy to manipulate another person to commit to a relationship is beyond selfish--it foolish depravity without the slightest foresight of the consequences to all those who would be involved.

Last year, my step-brother, who is truly a compassionate liberal seeking to better society through noble causes, asked my advice in an unusual circumstance. He and his wife wanted to adopt an African-American baby, and our shared family was not to excited about that. When he called, he seemed intent on doing it despite the prejudices of our family, simply because he and his wife wanted a child and they wanted to make a statement to both family and society. While I agreed that the cause is noble and such prejudices shouldn't exist, I appealed to the child's perspective. The prejudices do exist and will bring unusual difficulties to parenting that wouldn't otherwise exist. I asked my step-brother if he was prepared to handle the difficulties in raising a black child being white parents, to answer the questions, to comfort the child when he will be teased for having "white parents." I asked if they were prepared to help this child in his or her impending identity crisis, being a black raised by white parents of a wholly different culture with the likelihood of isolation by those of his own race. I noted that the child does not have a choice in participating in my step-brother's cause. I also said that despite our family's prejudices, this child will become a part of it, and he would be choosing for that child a life of great familial tensions that would also not exist if the child were not black.

Unlike the foolish "relationship expert" above, out of compassion, my step-brother decided not to go through with the adoption and place a child in a preventable and difficult circumstance.

Today, I read a great article on the Washington Post (found through this post at Slice of Laodicea). It shows the incredible lack of foresight on the part of the feminist movement in intentional single motherhood. It is quite touching and a great find, and it show how selfish people can be when they consider having children, forgetting to consider the cost of their decision to conceive or adopt on the child. We are called to procreate, if able to do so--but we are also called to sacrifice our own selfishness in considering the prospect of children.

Good Article on Emergent Movement

Dr. John MacArthur has begun a series called "Brian McLaren and the Clarity of Scripture". In this article, Dr. MacArthur discusses McLaren's hesitancy to make any theological assertion with any certainty--which implies that he does not believe the Scripture to be clear in revealing God's nature and purposes.

For those of you who have heard of the emergent movement and have questions about it, this is a good starting point.

To deny the clarity of Scripture (by criticizing those who are certain in their beliefs about God), is to undo one of the principal arguments of the Protestant Reformation. If it were not for the Reformers, such as Luther and Calvin, we would not have translations of the Bible in our own language to read for ourselves. Before the Reformation, the Catholic Church held that biblical interpretation could only be done by the clergy, it did not belong in the hands of the laity. They never translated the Scriptures out of Latin to the languages of their consituency--and never let them read it for themselves.

Luther and many, many other Reformers held that the Scriptures, by the inward dwelling of the Holy Spirit, are clear to all believers, and it was the believer's responsibility--if he could read--to search the Scriptures for themselves. Hence their drive the translate the Scriptures into the language of the people...all of it driven by a dogmatic conviction of the perspecuity of God's Word.

Blue Like Jazz, Chapters 6 - 8

The title of chapter 6 is "Redemption." I was hoping for some discussion of the theology of Redemption (I know this is not a theology book, but even in devotional and inspirational reads, theological concepts are dealt with on a consistent basis). One would think a chapter titled "Redemption" would include a discussion of the purchase that took place at Calvary, but Miller doesn't discuss it at all. It wasn't his intention: The chapter began with the experience of redemption, but never discussed its mechanics, and ended with the struggle with sin for the believer.

Some of the content was good. I loved the honesty about the struggle of sin after conversion, and I appreciated his candid discussion of the particular vices with which he struggled. Conversion does not make the believer sinless. In fact, it amplifies the struggle to level unknown before. Before conversion, the new believer was unaware as to how sinful he truly was. After conversion, God's holy love reveals to us the innermost depths of our sin for the rest of our life. It can be most despairing, to say the least, in the midst of such struggle with sin.

On page 60, Don tells us, "Joy is a temporal thing. Its brief capacity, as reference, gives it its pleasure." Biblical joy is never meant to be a temporal thing, for it rests in the grace and everlasting promises of God to his creatures. Moreover, Miller seems define every Christian experience in merely subjective and emotional terms. Faith is "something we feel." Joy is compared to a new couple "feeling" in love.

The closing paragraph of chapter 6 is one that I empathized with:

My answer to this dilemma [of loving to do sinful things] was self-discipline. I figured that I could just make myself do good things, think good thought about other people, but that was no easier than walking up to a complete stranger and falling in love with them. I could go through the motions for a while, but sooner or later my heart would testify to its true love: darkness. Then I would get up and try again. The cycle was dehumanizing.

This was a nice a segue into the next chapter [7], titled "Grace." At the beginning of this chapter, Don discusses his experience as a "fundamentalist." Then he discusses the experience of his pastor's similar experience. This is the first time that Miller mentions the death of Christ for the forgiveness of sins. [Page 82] It was mentioned during Miller's telling of his pastor's conversion experience--but it was mentioned as a part of the story with no explanation as to its necessity. From this point on, I get a confusing message as to what the grace of God is. Miller does not describe God's grace as necessary for conversion, and he never describes grace in terms of our complete unworthiness of it. Although he does asks himself, "Who am I to think myself above God's charity?" [Page 85], not once does he say that he is completely undeserving of God's charity. He does imply that it can't be earned, but that is something entirely different than saying that man deserves the opposite of charity and love: condemnation.

On the final page of the chapter, we get an interesting message from Miller as to what enables us to love God.

...Rick loves God because he accepts God's unconditional love first.

Rick says that I will love God because he first loved me. I will obey God because I love God. But if I cannot accept God's love, I cannot love Him in return, and I cannot obey him...The ability to accept God's unconditional grace and ferocious love is all the fuel we need to obey Him in return...God woos us with kindness, He changes our character with the passion of His love.

From whence does this ability to accept God' grace and love come? Is it something within the capacity of fallen humanity to do? In reference to Ephesians 2:1-10, Can the dead in sin raise themselves to life? From this, I must assume that Miller thinks that man must enable himself to love God by accepting the free gift of grace. However, biblically speaking, the acceptance of grace by faith is a part to the grace itself. Apart from God's calling, we could neither experience nor desire his grace.

Let me clarify: Is my ability to truly love and obey God contingent upon my ability to accept God's grace? Or, is my ability to accept, love, and obey wholly dependent on the grace of God in which He tames my rebellious heart even when I would not come. In Miller's theology, God apparently cannot change our character unless we let Him. Biblically, God must change our character for us to even trust Him.

Miller is correct in saying that our ability to obey God is wholly dependent on the grace of God--Miller is wrong in saying that accepting God's love is what grants this grace. In fact, accepting God's love is an act of obedience itself, so how can we do it apart from God's grace?

In chapter 8, Miller makes some of the strongest points of the book insofar--and he makes one of his strongest theological assertions yet. He discuss the Christian tendency to use God for their own ends and egos--instead of serving Him for his purposes. In a story in which he dialogues with Moses, Miller says this:

"Don," Moses responds, "...I want you to understand that God has never been nor ever will be invented. He is not a product of any sort of imagination. He does not obey trends. And God let us out of Egypt because you people cried out to Him. He was answering your prayers because He is a God of compassion. He could have left you to Satan. Don't complain about the way God answers your prayers....Your problem is no that God is not fulfilling, your problem is that you are spoiled." [Page 92]

Amen. Then we come to this:

...God is not here to worship me, to mold Himself into something that will help me fulfill my level of comfort.

Not much to more I could say. I only hope this is what Miller actually practices throughout the rest of the book, for the god he has presented so far is a god more of human imagination than revelation.

Update on Recent Events...

I will continue the Blue Like Jazz discussion this week. As for now, I am guest blogging with Jim B. of www.oldtruth.com discussing Michael Bronson's work on "Selective Salvation" at www.biblehelp.org. Here is the blog: http://nobiblehelp-org.blogspot.com/.

Also, my birthday is on Friday...I will be twe--well I'll be a year older ;-).

I'm Famous Again...

Well...not really.

This time I was linked by Melissa McNarma (that's what she gets for calling me "Brent Raily") at www.cbsnews.com.

I've gotten a little traffic from this link ;-).

UPDATE: She corrected my name, so I'll give you the correct spelling of her name: McNarama.

Blue Like Jazz, Chapter 5

Previous Reviews: Chapter 2, Chapters 3 and 4.

In chapter five, titled "Faith", Miller expresses his understanding of faith. This was a difficult chapter for me to understand--and I think that was Miller's intention. He apparently does not want every theological issue in this book to make sense. In remembering further conversation with a friend, Laura, Miller tells us:

I had no explanation [as to why Miller believes] for Laura. I don't think there is an explanation. My belief in Jesus did not seem rational or scientific, and yet there was nothing I could do to separate myself from this belief. I think Laura was look for something rational, because she believed that all things that were true were rational. But that isn't the case. Love, for example, is a true emotion, but it is not rational. What I mean is, people actually feel it. I have been in love, plenty of people have been in love, yet love cannot be proved scientifically. Neither can beauty. Light cannot be proved scientifically, and yet we all believe in light and by light see all things. There are plenty of things that are true that don't make any sense. I think one of the problems Laura was having was that she wanted God to make sense. He doesn't. He will make no more sense to me than I will make sense to an ant. [Page 54, emphases mine]

Miller then goes on to explain faith using the illustration of penguin mating rituals. They have an innate sense as to what to do in order to procreate. To Miller, is faith is an innate sense to believe Jesus:

...They have this radar inside them that told them when and where to go and none of it made any sense, but they show up on the very day their babies are being born, and the radar always turns out to be right. I have a radar inside me that says to believe in Jesus. Somehow, penguin radar leads them perfectly well. Maybe it isn't so foolish that I follow the radar that is inside of me. [Page 57]

Miller does not believe that the workings of faith can be explained. It is a mystery--inexplicable, yet "beautiful and true." Faith is "something you feel, and it comes from the soul." [Page 57]

I don't know where to start in the analysis of this chapter. I assume from this chapter that an analysis of faith would be ridiculous to Miller. So much of Miller's perspective on love and faith and the groundings of them have been exposed in this chapter, but it's so amorphous it's difficult to determine a starting point. I'll start with a comparison of Miller's presentation of faith with that of biblical terms.

To me, Miller seems to have contradicted himself at this point. In chapter 3, the climax of a person's story is his "decision" to follow Christ. In chapter 5, Miller was compelled internally to believe. "There are things that you choose to believe, and there are beliefs that choose you. [Belief in Jesus] is one that chose me." [Page 55] Which is it? Also, I am quite uncomfortable with the emotional orientation of his explanation of faith. That is not a biblical explanation of it. Faith is neither an emotion nor a feeling (neither is biblical love for that matter), but something that is lived. Feelings come and go; that is why I can't stand the "in love" analogy above. Everyday, people abandon marriages because they are no longer "in love." Faith and love are both lived commitments, lived even when it is not felt. It is a trust and reliance upon Christ--and in Him alone. Faith is both objective [as in definable] and subjective [as in experienced], and the experience of faith is mysterious.

However, the reason faith is mysterious is not due to it being inexplicable, but due to the amazing fact that people believe at all. If God were not to move in the hearts of men and draw them, no one would believe. Not one person. Not me, not you. That is the mystery--our faith is of God and He has given it to us (Eph 2:8-9) when we could not believe of ourselves--and he didn't give it do us because we wanted it or searched for it, because we didn't. We may have been wanting or searching, but it was not for a belief in the true and living God. We were looking for an idol to worship. Had God not come to us, we would be worshipping ourselves or an image of God that is creaturely rather than a sovereign Creator. Our innate instinct as fallen creatures is to disbelieve God.

The Bibles does explain why people believe, and it does so quite clearly. This "cause" of faith is not some mysterious, innate instinct; it's God's working in our hearts and drawing us to Himself by an inward calling. (John 6:37-40, 44, 65; John 10:1ff [Christ calls His sheep by name, people do not believe because they are not of His sheep]; Ephesians 2:5ff; 1 Corinthians 12:3; among others) Faith is a trust, assurance, and hope in something not seen (Hebrews 11:1).

Miller tells us that God doesn't make any sense. However, if Miller believes the Bible to be true, and if he believes that God is its source, then why does God go through such great lengths to explain Himself? Why even speak to us if we can't understand it? Bible study would be a fruitless endeavor if God makes no sense at all. What could we possibly learn of God if that were the case? Don't misunderstand me, The fullness of God thoughts and nature are unsearchable and beyond our comprehension--but that doesn't mean that God makes no sense at all. I hope this is what Miller is trying to say.

Blue Like Jazz - Chapter 3 and 4

Review of chapter 2.

I enjoy Miller's style of writing, and I can see why many people can relate to this book. His tone is personal and seemingly honest. His metaphors illustrate his points quite well. I can identify with the disconnect people feel when trying to understand Christianity from a contemporary perspective, especially when so much of Christianity's traditions are so antiquated--and no one knows why they are taught or done.

In chapter 3, we get a glimpse into why Donald Miller felt so disconnected with typical evangelical Christianity. In fact, I felt a whole hearted "amen" when he discussed some church practices and attitudes:

I associated much of Christian doctrine with children's stories because I grew up in church. My Sunday School teachers had turned Bible narrative into children's fables. They talked about Noah and the ark because the story had animals in it. They failed to mention that this was when God massacred all of humanity.

It also confused me that some people would look at parts of the Bible but not the whole thing. They ignored a lot of obvious questions. I felt as if Christianity, as a religious system, was a product that kept falling apart, and whoever was selling it would hold the broken part behind his back trying to divert everyone's attention... [Page 30]

I couldn't give myself to Christianity because it was a religion for the intellectually naive... [Page 31]

Miller is more than just right here.

Evangelicals, pretty much on the whole, have abandoned an intellectual engagement of Scripture. I understand that not everyone is an intellectual (that is not to say that they aren't smart), but when the church fails to engage her mind with the Scripture, she cannot possibly derive answers to the most pertinent questions facing humanity today. In fact, the much of "Christianity" is rightly mocked by the world because it is truly incoherent silliness. The church has failed in her responsibility to teach her members how to think, because she is to busy trying to spoon-feed her members what to think. I can agree with Miller wholeheartedly here.

Miller then uses the elements of a story--using his life story--to explain what his understanding of the gospel: setting, conflict, climax, and resolution. Setting: America, on earth, in a room of a house with roommates. Conflict: "The rebellion against God explained why humans experienced conflict in their lives..." Climax and Resolution:

Climax is where a point of decision determines the end of the story...If the human heart uses the tools of reality to create the elements of story...this means that climax, the point of decision, could very well be something that exists in the universe. What I mean is that there is a decision the human heart needs to make...Christianity offered a decision, a climax. It also offered a good and bad resolution. In part, our decisions were instrumental to the way our story turned out.

...I would always hate hearing about [big-haired preachers demanding a decision to follow or reject Christ] because it seemed so entirely unfashionable a thing to believe, but it did explain things. Maybe these unfashionable ideas were pointing to something mystical and true. And, perhaps, I was judging the idea, not by its merits, but by the fashionable or unfashionable delivery of the message. [Pages 32-33]

Before I come across as over-critical (which I very much can be), I credit Miller with the attempt to make the gospel relevant here. What troubles me is that he loses the essential parts of the gospel message in the attempt to be relevant. I'm nearly fifty pages into this book, and all I've learned of Christ is that He was the Son of God, became a man, an he loved people. I've yet to hear of His cross or His suffering for our sake.

Our sin nature brings more than just conflict--it also brings condemnationbefore God. Moreover, the rejection of Christ brings more than a "bad resolution." It means that one remains guilty of the sin he has committed and faces the penalty for it. Moreover, does the Bible say that fallen man has it within himself to choose to follow Christ? John 6:44 and 6:65 tell us that in order for a man to come to Christ, it must be granted by the Father, and the Father must draw him. John 10 says that only the sheep hear the voice of Christ and follow him. Acts 11:18 and 2 Timothy 2:24-26 say that repentance must be granted.

What also troubles me is that the analogy (and message) is man-centered. (I say this knowing that many are won by such presentations, but this book is used by many as a means for "Bible study.") My story a teeny-tiny part of a larger history that God is bringing to fruition. It should be this: Setting: the entire scope time and creation. Conflict: the Fall of man and his resulting inability to seek God. Climax: the cross and resurrection of Christ. Resolution: the salvation of his people by means of the atonement of Christ--and the judgment of the lost. The gospel, pure and biblical.

In chapter 4, Miller explains his decision to audit a Greek lit class at Reed College, one the most hostile, anti-Christian campuses on the North American continent. Again we get a glimpse into Miller's understanding of a typical evangelical church:

At the time I was attending this large church in the suburbs. It was like going to church at the Gap. I don't know why I went there. I didn't fit. I had a few friends, though, very nice people, and when I told that I wanted to audit classes at Reed they looked at me as if I wanted to date Satan. One friend sat me down and told me all about the place, how they have a three-day festival at the end of the year in which the run around naked. She said some of the students probably use drugs. She told me God did not want me to attend Reed College. [Page 38]

If this is Miller's experience with church, I understand why he thinks the way he does. Those of us who attend Southern Baptist churches can relate to this...but it is typically done by little old ladies with the best of intentions. However, I too get frustrated when people tell me what God wants me to do with my life--as if they are more spiritual than I and can receive special revelations from God. Specific to Miller's experience here: Didn't God want Jonah to go into Nineveh, the most pagan place on earth at that time?

Miller then discusses a friendship with girl name Laura. He met her on Reed's campus, and she was an atheist. He saw her heart and her passion for people. Then Miller goes on to say:

I could sense very deeply that God wanted a relationship with Laura. Ultimately, I believe that God loves and wants a relationship with every human being, but with Laura I could feel God's urgency. [Page 41]

First, This seems a bit hypocritical for Miller to say this, when he had just made a girl at a suburban church look like an idiot for speaking on God's behalf just three pages earlier. She might have felt "God's urgency" to tell Miller not go to Reed. Second, and most importantly, we have the issue of a weak god I discussed when I announced that I'd review the book. In Miller's theology, God desires to have relationship with everyone, but refuses to do anything about it other than wait on us. He hopes that we might come, but doesn't necessarily cause to happen. It's totally up to us to be saved--and the wiser, less depraved, and more worthy ones of us are the ones who accept. It is ultimately human attribute and ability that brings about salvation.

To paraphrase Spurgeon, it if were God's intention to save everyone, how sorely disappointed He must be. In Miller's theology, God provided the means to be saved, but He cannot possibly take credit for anyone's conversion-- for it is man's decision that causes it.

Throughout the rest of chapter 4, Miller chronicles his time at Reed, meeting the Christians at Reed (a secretive bunch), and discussed the conversion of a girl named Penny. What I liked about this narrative is that it demonstrated that God's grace extends to people of all sorts--even hippie drug-addicted smokers like Penny. God saves the most outrageous of sinners--Paul was one of them. My disappointment is that by the end of chapter 4, the cross of Christ is still MIA (Missing in Action).