We’re the good guys…right?

I have been captivated by parables recently. I am not alone either. The content of Jesus’ parables are striking and evocative. What’s more, the structure and artistry of a good story that invites participation has really caught my attention. The parables of Jesus are the one form of communication and instruction wherein the structure and the content are guided by the same ethic — inclusion.

The reason we gravitate towards good stories is because they invite us inside. We get lost in the story. You’ve probably said that before about your favorite book. Jesus’ parables invited his hearers in because the characters are people they could identify with. At the same time, the content of the parables were about those whom God was including in the kin_dom. A parable welcomes you into a new landscape. For Jesus, that new landscape provided for new ways to see God, one’s self, and others.

No one leaves unscathed by Jesus’ parables. Particularly those in Luke 15. In that chapter, the parabolic teaching is prompted by a complaint by the Pharisees concerning who Jesus was sharing table with. Its really easy for us to assume that the Pharisees are a bunch of self-righteous, legalistic, exclusivists. I’m sure there were people like that among their ranks. Historically, however, Pharisees were simply good Torah-abiding followers of Yahweh. Some even argue that this is the very tradition Jesus emerged from. I think in many ways, the best idea about the Pharisees we can interpret the Bible with is that they were good church folk like you and I. Perhaps their self-righteous and legalistic flaws are mostly projections of that which we refuse to take responsibility for in our own selves.

If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny conservative Baptists, he would have been at the table with homosexuals, and atheists. If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny liberal/moderate Baptists, he would have been at the table with the Religious Right, and skinheads. To be fair, If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny emerging Baptists, he would have been at a Wal-Mart McCafe networking with white male denominational executives on a PC.

The irony of parables is that most readers assume they vindicate their own cause, when actually they implicate us for our participation in injustice. If we interact with Jesus’ parables honestly, we see that all of us have a “them.” A group or groups of people we draw outside of our circle. People we would be loath to invite to our table. Our resentment of God’s inclusion of them leads us to temporary amnesia about how we ourselves are received by God. Parables can shake us out of that stupor by including us in the story, and inviting us to see our folly in the story’s characters.

As we wrestle with emergence, and the conflict and struggle inherent in that, parables will be indispensable. Parables will keep us honest by not letting us off the hook concerning our own prejudices and hubris. They won’t let us off the hook regarding those who are not emerging and how we relate to them. When we are tempted to assume we’re the good guys, Jesus’ parables will make us ask good questions of that assumption.

Parables expose us. That sort of self-discovery is vital to our becoming, or emerging, more like Christ.

Note: The use of the generic term “guys” in the title has to do with how this phrase is understood in the common vernacular, and not a product of laziness as regards gender inclusivity.

Cynicism as Relational Apathy

“The opposite of creativity is cynicism.” – Esa Saarinen

This Lent, I’ve put some things under the microscope of personal introspection. The central question I’ve put to myself has been this; “You (me) can conceive and articulate a relational way of being and knowing, but how well, if at all, do you (me) embody it?” This is quite honestly an over-intellectualized way of asking myself how well I put flesh on the great commandments.

One thing that has emerged during this reflective process has been a serious critique of cynicism. That’s right, cynicism. The default posture of the post-boomer Gen X culture. As I have thought about it over Lent, cynicism has shown itself to be non-relational, and at its worst anti-relational.

Cynicism is primarily a response to assumption about an other. Chronic or habitual cynicism is a choice to relate to assumption rather than what is actual. Cynicism is satisfied with reductions of others. In this way, it dehumanizes the other. Its why we love parodies and satirical humor. It lets us off the hook for having to truly know an other as a whole person.

Cynicism is also a stand against having to trust. I believe this has much to do with the fact that trust involves risk. To be fair, the post-boomer generations have many legitimate reasons not to trust. However, I believe we need to consider the consequences of our collective inability and unwillingness to trust. Without trust there can be no relationship. Relationships require self-giving and vulnerability. Cynicism is a posture that protects against having to be vulnerable — against having to take any risk in relating.

“What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing” -Oscar Wilde

These are all things I have observed in myself, and they are all things that do not jive with my relational understanding of God and reality. Of the things that stand in the way of embodying a relational posture, cynicism is chief among them. As a self-avowed postmodern, cynicism betrays a cognitive dissonance in my own perspective. A cynic categorizes others in a truly modern fashion. What’s more, its hyper-individualistic in the sense that its categories are based on subjective assumptions about others. In many ways its a narcissistic ritual of self-righteousness. Its easy to be a cynic because you never have to leave your world to face reality.

As a follower of Jesus, cynicism is an even greater affront to the ethic of the kin-dom, and the movement of God toward us in self-giving love. Had God been cynical, we would have been written off a long time ago. Had Jesus embodied that cynicism, he would have been one more self-righteous activist who pleased some and alienated others. That’s not the good news we find in our collective narrative. What we do find is a God who is willing to be vulnerable to the point of being present and then murdered. What’s more, that kind of self-giving, risk-taking love is unable to be conquered. It is eternal. In Jesus we see that such a relational paradigm involves pain, loss and disappointment, but on the other side of all of them is a resurrection. A new life. A new beginning.

As I have critiqued my own cynicism during Lent, I have reached some distillations for myself.

1. I cannot trust in a resurrection reality and be a cynic.

2. I cannot relate to others who are not like me and be a cynic.

3. I cannot embody the great commandments and be a cynic.

4. I cannot, with integrity, consider myself a postmodern follower of Jesus while at the same time categorizing others according to a hyper-individualistic template. That’s just not pomo-cool.

5. I cannot truly work for the redemption of ALL things and be a cynic.

“I prefer credulity to skepticism and cynicism for there is more promise in almost anything than in nothing at all.” - Ralph B. Perry

This has broad reaching implications for those of us post-boomer folks who find ourselves serving churches and running into challenges. In transitional contexts marked by collective anxiety, uncertainty, and emotional gridlock, cynicism is a handicap and perpetrator. It will prevent a good leader from imagining a way forward that includes everyone, and will thwart one’s ability to patiently persevere. Cynicism will serve its own needs rather than what is right for the community of faith as a whole.

While asking questions and carrying a measure of existential doubt are assets in the process of discernment, they are not equivalent to a cynical approach to others or even systems. If we desire to be the creative re-imaginers of today’s church for tomorrow, we’ll need to give up our cynicism and courageously engage the diverse range of others in our churches. Especially those whom we “assume” stand in our way.