Radical

A small group at my church has been working through the book Radical: Taking Back Your Faith From the American Dream, by David Platt.  It seems pretty obvious (isn't it?) that the American dream is not Christian.  But we in American churches need to be reminded of this.  (It has nothing to do with politics!)

The American culture borrows heavily from ideas of Greek elites two thousand years ago.  We are Epicureans.  We learn how to carefully cultivate pleasure.  Most Americans, like Epicurus, look down on a wild chaotic uncontrolled life, trapped in addictions.  We believe in living modestly, but living well.  We have nice homes and nice cars.  We taste good wine (but not expensive wine) and we eat at nice restaurants (but not too fancy!)  We move from one modest subtle pleasure to another.

Well, at least I do.  I know that the $200 bottle of wine is a waste, but that there are good bottles to be had for $10.  I drive a Honda Civic with 135,000 miles (but it is in good running condition!)  The three adults in my home (yes, we own our own home) all have their own cars.  I have a Mac laptop, an iPhone, iPad and mini iPad.

We live modest lives of pleasure.  This is classic, orthodox Epicureanism.

It is not Christianity.

Good Epicureans learn to have modest desires and modest pleasures.  So (unless they are true philosophers) they will have modest religious beliefs.  They will enjoy a religion that supports their life of steady, subtle pleasure.

If one wants to see a practiced practical application of Epicureanism, look to the middle class white Christian church in America.

When Jan and I married (in the 1970s) we wanted to live a radical, missional life.  We would resist American materialism.  We lived in a mobile home.  We had one car, a VW diesel Rabbit, which got 50 miles to the gallon.  (It was a nice car.)  We worked with a singles group in our church, enjoyed hikes in the mountains.  We agonized as to whether we were letting down our guard when we started going to Colorado ski resorts and buying ski equipment.  (My first skis, K2s, were purchased for $2 in a Colorado ski swap.)  We owned one TV, a small black and white with an antenna.  We watched the Broncos play on Sunday afternoons, but on our small screen we couldn't always see the ball Craig Morton threw. (This was before Elway.)  We promised to raise our children (Alex arrived in 1983) on love and the teachings of Jesus, with simplicity, without giving in to American materialism.

But American materialism is pervasive.  Good things, by themselves, are not bad.  I like Starbucks coffee.   Gnarly Head red zinfadel is less than $9 a bottle.  Buying things is not, of itself, wrong, but somehow I have bought into the teaching of Epicurus.  I'm not sure how to go back.

Following Jesus has been a significant value in my life.  It has helped me focus on my wife and children, on friends and church and ministry.  For many years, Jan and I gave 25% (or more) of our income to ministries and charities and we matured in our involvement with (for example) the women in crisis pregnancy centers and organizations like Good Shepherd Ministry in Huntsville, Texas, organizations which work with those struggling with abuse, addictions and poverty.  We have supported ministries across Asia, Africa and Europe.

At times, under family stress or job pressures, we began to take shortcuts, moving away from focus on that invisible Kingdom of God.  And, of course, this added confusion and struggle.

But as I get older, I am tired and sensitive to pain.  I want to relax and drink a glass of wine and enjoy the pleasures that have come with the practices we developed over the years.  I'm not sure how to go back to the missional life.  I am afraid that I have become an Epicurean, not a Christ-follower!