I have been a backpacker since I could walk. One of the most important
principles of backpacking is weight. It is not just how fit the hiker is
(though that helps), but how light the hiker is. Certainly this applies to the
weight of one’s body. But the more relevant variable is the weight of one’s
pack. If your pack is heavy, so are you, and every pound – every ounce – slows
you down. So when I prep for backpacking, I cut my toothbrush in half, count
calories per ounce in my food, and (most importantly) leave behind supposed
“necessities.”
Of course, I am not the only one who does this. Traveling light has become a
bit of a fad. Not only in backpacking, but life in general –
including matters of faith. Christians around the globe are searching
for a “churchless Christianity” or “Jesus without the church.” [Note: The fact
that this fad is not actually new does not concern me here; I am less
interested with the genetics of this pattern and more with its current form].
I think traveling light in matters of faith is a good idea. I have no vested
interest in preserving the institutional church as-is. Cutting away excess is
the heart of reform in every age, and I willingly and joyfully participate in
such a move.
But, traveling light is not an end in itself. What would you say if I packed a
9-pound dry pack, then sat at home and watched a James Bond marathon? You would
rightfully jeer, because reaching a light pack is no achievement in and of
itself. It is a means to an end. The goal is to hike more miles. I pack
light only in order to travel light.
The same applies in matters of faith. Freeing oneself from the shackles of
ungenerous orthodoxy or institutional preservation are no accomplishments
themselves. It’s actually quite easy and rather unimpressive. I will save my
applause for those who develop doctrine and transform institutions in service
of the church’s mission. The church is sent to proclaim Christ and do his work
to the ends of the earth. As Matthew 10, Acts 15, and the whole Epistle to the
Galatians attest, there are doctrines and practices
that unnecessarily hinder the mission. A truly missional church will joyfully
put itself under this kind of Gospel-centered criticism.
So what does this look like? Well, it starts with not giving up on the church.
Then the next step is to follow criticism with construction. Tell us what’s
wrong, but tell us more about how to do it right. The path to construction
comes by mulling over one’s criticism with these questions in mind: What about
this doctrine or practice bothers me? Is the motivation for my criticism truly
missional? If so, what does the missional alternative look like? And if you are
not willing to enter into these constructive reflections, then maybe you should
consider putting your criticisms on the shelf. For goodness sake, if you are
not going to hike, stop cutting your toothbrush in half!
What do you think?
Is traveling light a good idea?
Does a missional understanding help?
How can we avoid the twin dangers of institutionalism and spiritualism?
Am I right that criticism without construction is incomplete?
How else might one move from criticism to construction?
At 9:22 PM, November 02, 2005, Amanda said...
"Am I right that criticism without
construction is useless?"
YES! YES! YES! I often hear criticism without construction under the guise of,
"I'm called to be a prophet, and prophets tend to say things that people
don't want to hear."
I call a prophet who is all criticism and no construction a plain ol' complainer.
And this line was just great: "For goodness sake, if you are not going to
hike, stop cutting your toothbrush in half!"
Classic!
Mandy
At 2:22 PM, November 03, 2005, Mark said...
Music to my soul...
on every level
Thanks
At 5:45 PM, November 03, 2005, Jake said...
John,
Great post... and moreover, great metaphor. I agree completely with the spirit
of your post, but I wouldn't use the term "useless." I would prefer
to think of such criticism as "incomplete" or better,
"insufficient." I too am a backpacker and there is a marked
difference between my complaining that my pack is too heavy on the one hand and
knowing how to fix the problem on the other. This is where one would need to
rely on the wisdom and expertise of a weathered hiker to guide her. One might
leave behind an essential article of clothing or safety device in the quest of
"traveling light." Realising that one's
pack is too heavy is a necessary first step in the process. Now, if that is as
far as one gets, he will always carry around a heavier-than-necessary-pack and
a perhaps a scoul. His complaining is insufficient in
and of itself.
The second step would then be to learn which items of gear our hypothetical backpaker can stand to lose. The answers to that question
are not uniform either. My own pack looks altogether different depending on
where I am hiking, whether or not I need to carry a bivy
or tent, the terrain, the altitude, if I will have access to fresh water, ad
infinitum .
Your criticism of "criticism without construction" is well put.
However, few Christians who make such criticisms of the Church have your
scholarly aptitude, your knowledge of church history, or your theological
astuteness. Rather than dismissing or condeming
criticism that does not offer contsruction, maybe we
should take the time to ascertain what the problem is and, if possible, help
our fellow hikers lighten their packs. But, then again... some of us should
know better. Great stuff man... you got me thinkin'.
At 8:27 PM, November 03, 2005, Keith.Drury
said...
Your said: I pack light
only in order to travel light --good point. As you know I am an ultralight backpacker on real trails. But I do have a lot
of equipment stored in my barn that I sometimes use when needed—crampons, a
variety of tempature-rated sleeping bags, snowshoes,
1-3- & 4 season shelters etc. My point is that while I travel light I hold
on to a lot of theology (whoops, I mean backpacking equipment) that I have in
reserve for use when needed.
Thanks for your constant drip-drip-dripping here on this blog
reminding us all that theology is not an armchair activity but the stuff or
real-world Christian living.
At 10:20 PM, November 03, 2005, Anonymous said...
As a longtime "postmodern" type (or as
along as they've been talking about it) this teaching on your blog hits home with me as a corrective to my past excess
and an encouragement to keep on constructing.
I'm encouraged to know that a lot of us who used to be so loud in our
complaining actually went out and started new churches eventually -- and then
we stopped complaining... and started constructing... if that makes any sense.
Those of us that did that aren't as "vocal" as the complainers
anymore... but we're still out there.
At 1:32 AM, November 04, 2005, pk
said...
Those who solely criticize, find themselves on the
outside looking in. They are choosing to exclude themselves from the very thing
they speak of. That could be dangerous! Especially when
you're excluding yourself from the Body of Christ.
Those who construct as a result of criticism exhibit their ownership and
humility as a valuable part of the Body.
I'm striving to be a critic-constructioner. Just as I
strive to be a lightweight backpacker (even cutting off those little tags that
say "Size M" and "Machine Wash Cold").
At 7:58 AM, November 04, 2005, JohnLDrury
said...
Jake,
Good point on difference b/w useless and imcomplete. So good that I changed it.
As for helping out fellow hikers, that is precisely how I view my vocation, and especialy my role
among fellow emergents. And for those who know
better, well, it is for them that the blunt edge of this post is aimed :-)
At 8:01 AM, November 04, 2005, JohnLDrury
said...
Everyone so far,
Thanks for extending the metaphor! I am really seeing the possibilities (like
backup gear, stashed gear/food, difference essentials on different hikes,
etc.). Let's hope it can bend under the wieght ;-)
Any more thoughts out there?
At 9:08 AM, November 06, 2005, Ken Schenck
said...
I am woefully ignorant of hiking, but I have
"set aside every weight" for marathons and such. Let me say that some
of the best food I've ever had I wouldn't have thought much of normally. But
for a person who doesn't normally like Snickers, the one I had at the fifty
mile mark of a cycling race was scrumptious. And that greasy burger I had after
my first half-marathon was out of this world.
They say absence either makes "the heart grow fonder" or "the
eyes wander." I wonder if how you are when you "get back" from
hiking says an awefully lot about what your
relationship with Christ is really like?
At 9:39 PM, November 07, 2005, millinerd
said...
Theologians should always find time to break for
art history.
Consider this painting (with accompanying explanation), that (if you switch backbacking-light
to rowing-light) employs drulogion's exact analogy.
The Catholics are so full of extras that they can't catch extra souls, while
the Protestants are seaworthy enough to save more lives.
The rainbow however, symbolizing God's blessing, is wide enough to encompass
both attempts.
At 4:57 PM, November 08, 2005, Just .
Jay said...
Millinerd ... thank you for that! I love how art can be an expression
as useful as any!
the topic of theology being meant for "real-world
application" is one close to my heart. stuffy do-nothings who know
everything there is to know about the history of the church and proper practice
feel more like pharisees than fishermen to me.
now that i have made some
people mad, a clarification... the people who KNOW much and DO much are the
people who have changed my life. going to seminary or
getting your phd means nothing if you don't do
anything with it but wield it like a self-righteous "i'm
really smart" sword. when that same theology is
used to change your life and then prompts you to change other people's lives...
well, that is just beatiful, and sort of the point. like this blog.
practical theology prompts real change.
At 4:58 PM, November 08, 2005, Just .
Jay said...
also, Schenck
said ----> They say absence either makes "the heart grow fonder"
or "the eyes wander."
how true. look at the history
of the nation of