Archives for March 2014

I admit it: I’m postmodern. And despite the negative connotations the word has amongst Christians, particularly conservative Christians, “postmodern” is a term I embrace. In this post I’ll explain the foundational difference between a modern and a postmodern worldview and offer my perspective on what it means to be a postmodern Christian.

Modern Christianity

The birth of modern thought ushered in a new way of understanding the world, that we can acquire objective, absolute knowledge through the use of pure reason. This radical shift in thought away from faith introduced a new Christian worldview. Instead of embracing the inherent uncertainty of faith, modern Christianity sought to prove the Christian faith through the use of reason. We see this shift from faith to reason in the 20^th century debates between old-earth atheists and young-earth creationists. In the end, Christians claimed victory in the debate, arguing that they won because it requires more faith to believe in evolution than it takes to believe in God. In other words, the modern Christian has been arguing that the world should believe in God because it is the most reasonable understanding of our existence, which requires less faith than any other option.

In modern Christianity’s pursuit to prove the existence of God and justify faith, it has undermined the essence of our faith—trust in God. It’s for this reason that I’m not a modern Christian.

Pre-modern Christianity

Realizing how modern Christianity has undermined the essence of faith, many Christian theologians, educators, and pastors claim to be pre-modern, adhering to a worldview grounded in faith that is then supported by reason.

In theory, the idea of returning to a pre-modern worldview sounds like a sensible solution, unfortunately, it’s not a realistic option. We can’t go back in time. We can’t undo what we’ve seen and learned over the past 500 years. 500 years ago, people thought the earth was at the center of the universe; that the earth was flat, heaven was up, and hell was down; and that every unexplained event was either a miracle or a declaration of God’s judgment. Today, we have a different perspective on our planet’s position in the cosmos; we have a fuller understanding of the inner-workings of the natural world; and because we can explain the reproductive process in scientific terms, we don’t view “the miracle of life” as being much of a miracle anymore.

As much as I might like the idea of returning to a pre-modern worldview, it’s not possible. Hence, I’m postmodern because I can’t be pre-modern.

Postmodern Christianity

In contrast to modern thought, postmodernism rejects the belief that we can acquire objective, absolute knowledge through the use of pure reason. In rejecting the certainty of knowledge, early postmodernists concluded that absolute truth does not exist and that all truth/knowledge is relative to one’s own perspective and community. (I’ll address the issue of absolute truth a little later; however, it’s worth noting here that many conflicting ideas emerged within modernism over its 400+ year history and we should expect the same to occur within postmodernism, particularly since we are less than 50 years into the movement.)

As a postmodern Christian, I reject the modern premise that we can acquire objective, absolute truth through reason.

Knowledge is subjective. As much as I would like to think that I’m an objective observer of the world, I’m not. I’m only human. I cannot understand the world beyond the limits of who I am and what I’ve experienced. As I wrote in Dying to Control, “To think I can transcend my whiteness, my maleness, or my life story and understand the fullness of truth is to guarantee my being blind to the white, male, privileged bias of my [worldview]. And when I’m blind to my whiteness, I’m racist; when I’m blind to my maleness, I’m sexist; when I’m blind to my privileged life, I’m classist.” Therefore, as a postmodern Christian, I believe gaining a fuller, more objective understanding of the world begins with acknowledging my own subjective perspective.

Knowledge is uncertain. By definition, faith demands a degree of uncertainty. To speak in certain terms—to say “I know for sure…”—is to undermine the essence of faith. Further, for me to speak in certain terms takes my focus away from God and my faith in him and places the focus on me and my ability to reason. As a postmodern Christian, I have no illusions of being able to prove my faith, and therefore, I unapologetically confess my faith in Jesus Christ.

Knowledge is not inherently good.  The Bible teaches us that knowledge puffs up, but love builds up (1 Cor. 8:1). Unfortunately, modern Christians did not heed this warning and here’s what happened: the “quiet time” became the primary means of spiritual growth; biblical knowledge became the measuring stick of wisdom and maturity; the need for doctrinal purity divided the Church into irreconcilable parts; and, to this day, the modern Christian holds to the axiom that the greatest act of love is to tell someone the truth. The tragic irony in the modern pursuit of more knowledge is that it has blinded the modern Christian to Jesus’ teachings about what it means to love thy neighbor. Given the potential dangers of gaining knowledge, as a postmodern Christian, I believe the motivation for pursuing more knowledge should be greater and more sacrificial acts of love.

As a postmodern Christian, I believe that God is the source of objective, absolute truth.

To understand why early postmodernists concluded that absolute truth does not exist, it’s important to recognize the dissonance between the hope of modernism and the reality of the 20^th century world. Modernism was supposed to discover absolute truth, which was then supposed to usher in a utopian existence—peace and prosperity for all of humankind. Instead, modernism provided people in positions of power and authority a means to rationalize their oppression of the poor and the weak; and with two World Wars and the fear of nuclear annihilation, people began to realize that more knowledge might not be such a good thing after all. It was in the midst of the world teetering on the brink of utter disaster that early postmodernists concluded that the problem in the world was modernism’s pursuit of knowledge.

However, there’s another option. Instead of the flaw being knowledge, maybe the flaw is humankind. As I see it, the problem with modernism wasn’t the pursuit of knowing; the problem was humankind’s sinful desire to gain power and control over the world and our eternal destiny. As a postmodern Christian, I believe in absolute truth, but I believe that truth is found through humble submission to God, for God alone is the Giver and Sustainer of life and the Arbiter of good and evil.

Therefore, in closing, instead of placing my faith in the most reasonable option, or concluding that all truth is relative, I choose to: 1. Acknowledge the limits of my humanity 2. Submit myself to God 3. Place my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and 4. Pray for the Holy Spirit to lead me into grace and truth. This is the essence of my faith, and living in the 21^st century, this is what makes me a postmodern Christian.

It’s hard for me to believe that the smartest, most forward-thinking commentary I’ve ever heard on American culture came in the form of a movie. And it wasn’t an artsy, indie film. It was a hilariously clever children’s movie.

Now I realize I’m a little slow—people have been talking and writing about The LEGO Movie for weeks— but please forgive me, I just got around to taking my kids to see it this past weekend. (I know, I know, I’m a terrible parent.)

One thing I love about The LEGO Movie is that it’s written in a fashion that allows people to view the film from various perspectives. Fans of culture can comment on the film’s exposé of pop-culture and branding. Business analysts can rant about the film’s anti-business, anti-capitalist message. (Or did it have a pro-business, pro-capitalist message?) Political commentators can write about the film’s portrayal of political systems. And religious writers can speculate on the meaning behind the myriad of religious allusions and images.

I, however, am a thinker, and therefore I connected with the movie from a philosophical perspective.

Critique of Modernism

From the onset of the movie Lord/President Business embodies the spirit of Modernism. His insistence on everyone following specific instructions conveys the modern pursuit of discovering and implementing mechanical systems that reflect the natural order of things. And his statement, “All I’m asking for is total perfection” simultaneously mocks and characterizes the modern belief that if we properly understand and execute on our knowledge of the natural world we will eventually establish a utopian existence. In short, Lord Business, “the man upstairs,” plays a god-like figure by exerting his will as the arbiter of all that is right and good.

Critique of Postmodernism

In opposition to Lord Business there are the Master Builders. These creative beings are not bound by rules. They are innovative thinkers who seek new ways to connect LEGO pieces, and they believe that by working together they can defeat Lord Business.

Yes, the Master Builders represent a postmodern worldview, but just when you think the movie is a postmodern propaganda film, you’re taken to Cloud Cuckoo Land—a world where its inhabitants have an unrealistic worldview and are, dare I say, a little crazy.

We see this chaotic world for what it is the moment Emmet walks in and says to their tour guide, Unikitty, “There’s no signs on anything! How does anyone know what not to do?”

Unikitty’s response conveys the early postmodern reaction to modernism, ““Well, we have no rules here. There is no government, no bedtimes, no baby-sitters, no frowny faces, no bushy mustaches, and no negativity of any kind.”

And when a Master Builder makes an astute and biting observation, “You just said the word no, like a thousand times,” Unikitty, with no hesitation, responds, “And there’s also no consistency.”

And there you have it. In one short scene, a postmodern worldview that suggests that we can live in a state of perpetual happiness if we simply abolished all rules is exposed as an impossible, self-contradicting illusion.

So then what’s the answer to absolute rule-following Modernism and absolute free-for-all Postmodernism?

Emmet

“Emmet” is the Hebrew word for “truth,” and in The LEGO Movie, Emmet is the hero. However, Emmet doesn’t have the skills or persona of a hero. He’s just your average, unmemorable guy who enjoys his simple life in LEGO land. He embraces the culture, and he diligently follows the rules of Lord Business.

But when Emmet stumbles upon “The Piece of Resistance”—the cap to a bottle of Krazy Glue—he’s declared “The Special.” Instantaneously Emmet gains celebrity status and becomes “the most important, most interesting, greatest person of all time.” Through much of the film Emmet tries to convince himself that he is “The Special,” but in time he realizes that he’s not any more special than anybody else and announces that everyone is special—everyone has an important place in this world.

It’s at this point in the movie that the story takes its most unexpected turn. The movie transitions from the realm of fantasy to reality when we see a little boy playing with his father’s LEGOs in the basement.

In this transition to reality the philosophical message of the movie starts to become clear. “The man upstairs”—Lord Business—is a Baby Boomer businessman, which makes perfect sense. You see, the Baby Boomer generation is the last modern generation; they are the last generation born into a world that believes there’s one right way to think and one right way to build the world. Afraid of an uncertain future, the dad wants to glue his LEGO land together; he’s trying to preserve his vision of the world.

The boy, on the other hand, represents a postmodern worldview; he wants to deconstruct the modern world of his father and reassemble the pieces in new and creative ways. The son, however, represents a more mature version of postmodernism (not Cloud Cuckoo Land), a version that sees modernism and postmodernism working cooperatively. We see this cooperative storyline play out as the movie goes back and forth between fantasy and reality. In the fantasy world, Emmet realizes that Lord Business has all the power and that the fate of the LEGO world is ultimately in his hands. And in reality, the son tells his father that President Business doesn’t have to be a villain, that they could build together and that everyone could be The Special.

The Message to the Church

The philosophical message that The LEGO Movie offers the world also applies to the Church.

Baby Boomers are the last generation of modern Christians; they are the last generation that believes there’s one right way to think about Jesus and one right way to build his Church. Afraid of an uncertain future, Baby Boomer church leaders and educators are trying to glue their Christian institutions together; they are trying to preserve their vision of the church.

In response, however, we as the next generation of Christians can’t abandon the Church of our fathers or try to deconstruct it and rebuild it on our own terms. Yes, the Spirit is alive and active, leading us in new and creative ways, yet we need the experience, maturity, and wisdom of our fathers as we navigate our new world.

In the end, I agree with Emmet. I agree that everyone’s special—we’re all uniquely created in the image of God to do good works. And I also believe it’s time for modern and postmodern Christians to stop fighting with one another and work together for the common purpose of building His Church. For it was Jesus who prayed, “May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”