Friday, June 1, 2018

Give him the jet; We made him



Recently, several news networks carried the story of a Louisiana preacher named Jesse Duplantis who made a video appeal to his followers to help him raise $54 million dollars to purchase a new private jet (Thanks to my friend Heather for posting this story and bringing it to my attention). You can watch his full video here. According to Duplantis, the jet is necessary because his current jet is unable to go anywhere in the world on a single tank of fuel, whereas the new jet can. Therefore, being able to hop anywhere in the world "in one stop" will enable him to "preach the gospel all over the world" for cheaper.

Immediately after publishing the video, negative and critical comments started flooding in (rightfully so), enough that Duplantis appeared personally on news stations and even issued a second video on his website to defend himself.


We really shouldn't be surprised at the apparent greed of powerful men and the gullibility of their followers. Such realities have always existed both inside and outside the church. Selfish appeals from televangelists are also nothing new. Yet, while it's easy to condemn and criticize hucksters like Duplantis (and such criticisms are deserved), I couldn't help but wonder if we should go ahead and buy him his jet. After all, we are the ones responsible for his appeal.

Duplantis and his ilk do not arise out of a vacuum. The represent many of the values American Christianity and evangelicalism has come to extol, whether consciously or unconsciously.

First, American Christianity has always mirrored society in creating celebrity cults. Such celebrity worship is obvious in the broader culture. A perfect example is the recent multi-day hullabaloo over Roseanne Barr's racist tweet that led to her show getting cancelled. While an unfortunate reminder that racism is still very prevalent today, it was ridiculous how much airtime a single tweet received. Even more ridiculous was the fact that many respected news outlets talked about how the President of United States finally "broke his silence" about the tweet and the show's cancellation (as if the President has nothing better to do than weigh in on celebrity gossip and network lineups). The focus was not really about racism, but about the celebrity.

Sadly, the church is no different. We fill stadiums to witness the spectacle of preachers like Billy Graham, Joel Olsteen, Matt Chandler, Beth Moore, Rob Bell and countless others. Congregations are no longer satisfied with small communities, but must become "mega-churches" centered around a charismatic, well-groomed (often male) celebrity preacher. The best selling books in Christian bookstores are (not incidentally) written by pastors of said mega churches. Our worship leaders get major records deals and utilize the newest, hottest instruments, sound boards, and lights to give us spectacle worthy of U2 or Coldplay. We love our holy celebrities and are willing to pamper them like the kings and queens we believe they are. As such, we really have no right to critique Duplantis for acting like a celebrity when much of the country treats their own pastors the same way.

Second, American Christianity has implicitly taught that sharing the Gospel is the pastor/preacher's job. From the get-go, Duplantis assumes he needs a jet because he assumes it is his job to go across the world personally and speak about the "gospel." Sadly, such a perspective really should reflect a failure of his ministry more than a success in some ways. If his ministry were actually changing lives, then the fruit of that life change would be thousands or millions of folks who are also taking the Gospel into their own communities all around the world. He would not need to frantically fly all over the place. After all, Jesus only preached in a tiny square of the world, but his message is now reaching the ends of the earth because He created real, lasting, transformative change in His disciples.

However, before we criticize Duplantis, we must recognize that most of our churches operate in the same manner. It is the preacher's job to teach and preach, and our job to sit passively and absorb. We are instructed to "bring our friends" to worship services so they can hear the Gospel. Our pastors are seen as religious professionals and experts who do the "real work" of ministry. But this is not how it should be. A pastor's job is to equip the congregation to be the church in its community. Every member is a minister. As long as we continue to view our own pastors as the primary evangelist, teacher, and discipler, then we might as well support Duplantis in his effort to get a new jet because our ecclesiology supports his need to personally travel the world to accomplish his work.

Finally, American evangelicalsim believes in the same truncated gospel as Duplantis. Consistent in Duplantis' request is the idea that "the gospel" is all about "saving souls" in a spiritual sense. While the plan of salvation is certainly good news and of utmost importance, it is not identical to "the Gospel," at least not the one Jesus preached.

In short, the "Gospel" is the good news that the history of Israel is now fulfilled in the life, work, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ who is bringing His Kingdom to earth. This good news includes the plan of salvation, but is not limited to it. Implied in the gospel Jesus and His disciples preached is a demand to participate in God's Kingdom here and now, which means also working in physical, tangible realities, not simply abstract, spiritual truths. "Good news" means taking care of the poor and oppressed, standing up for truth and justice, and imagining creative ways to tell the story of God in our communities. It means confronting both the personal, invisible sins within each of us that keep us separated from God and confronting the societal, visible sins that alienate all of us from the good life God created in the beginning.

A $54 million jet has rightly been condemned as a wasteful expense when the same money could benefit so many other ministries who are proclaiming the gospel in more holistic ways. How many hungry children could we feed in our communities with that money? How many expecting mothers could we house who are debating abortion because of financial fears? How many Bibles could we print? How many water wells could we drill? How many foreign missionaries already embedded in foreign countries could we support?

But, maybe we don't deserve to ask those questions because many of us believe in the same gospel as Duplantis. We believe in a gospel which says the only thing that matters is getting people to "believe" and say a prayer. All that matters is "winning souls." If that is our gospel, then of course it makes perfect sense to send a man all around the world, pack stadiums and parks full of as many people as you can, and use lights and emotional music to prompt them to come to the altar. I'm sure you can efficiently rack up a ton of "decisions" with a private jet.

So, why not? It may seem crass, but his request may be an honest presentation of our biggest faults we hide under the rug as American Christians. So, let's buy him his jet. He might be more effective than us at fulfilling our own vision of church and the gospel after all.

Monday, April 9, 2018

"The Crossing" and Israel



I recently watched the pilot episode of ABC's new sci-fi drama "The Crossing," created by Jay Beattie and Dan Dworkin. The show definitely holds some potential, and it will be interesting to see if it ends up being binge-worthy or a flop. However, I am intrigued to continue watching how the show develops because the opening episode seems to be developing some interesting themes. In particular, it seems to be setting the stage to use the Old Testament story of the people of Israel as a motif within the show.


If you haven't seen previews for the show or the pilot episode yet, the basic premise of the show is that a rural sheriff (played by Steve Zahn) discovers hundreds of bodies that wash up his Washington beach, including a few dozen survivors. Federal agents quickly gets involved and shut out local officials. As the story unfolds, the survivors disclose that they are refugees from the future. Fleeing war and an oppressive power, they utilized a new time travel technology, but something went wrong and they ended up underwater in the ocean instead of on land. Sheriff Ellis and some federal agents have safety concerns, especially since some of the survivors warn of "others" who have special abilities, some of whom may have crossed over earlier.

In watching the first episode, I couldn't help but notice a number of similarities between the story of these refugees and the story of Israel in the Bible. For starters, the show's title appears to reference the time travel event in which the refugees "crossed" back into the past by passing through the ocean. This event itself could be seen as a powerful biblical image, a group of oppressed people passing through the waters (Pacific Ocean/Red Sea) to escape their oppressors.

Furthermore, like Israel, hope they have entered a "promised land." One refugee describes the America of the past (our present day) as a much more ideal and free place than the one the left. For these refugees, 2000's America may seem like a land full of milk and honey. However, just as in the Pentateuch, the post-oppression journey is not an easy one. Those journeying to freedom find themselves to be small and powerless compared to their neighbors. And like Israel, the refugees in the crossing appear to be entering a wilderness period as the federal government only moves them into temporary housing in the middle of the woods.


I don't know if the show's writers are aware of these similarities or not, but one final piece makes me suspect they are. Less than five minutes into the show, Sheriff Ellis has a conversation with a little girl he pulled from the water a few hours earlier. When she tells him her name is Leah, the sheriff remarks, "That's in the Bible, isn't it?" Interestingly, the girl responds with a blank stare, confused about what a "Bible" is.

It is this line that made me start to pay attention to the biblical themes in the episode. Indeed, as I listened to the names, there definitely seems to be a pattern--all the refugees have biblical names: Leah, Hannah, Rebecca, Caleb, Thomas. Even the names themselves seem to be significant. For example, in the Bible Leah is the daughter-in-law of Rebecca, whereas the show's Rebecca takes on a mother role to the girl Leah. Likewise, the one refugee who seems to be skeptical, self-interested, and perhaps "doubting" is named Thomas.

The only exception to this rule (so far) is a refugee named Reece, who incidentally is different from the others, being the only one to demonstrate special powers and the only one not rescued on the beach. So perhaps her lack of a biblical name is also significant. In contrast, Sheriff Ellis also has a biblical name as his first name is Jude. Perhaps this is an indicator that he will be an ally to the refugees.

The show is clearly poised to deal with a number of social and political issues. For instance, the first episode already has touched on our treatment and views of refugees and immigrants, something our country has been dealing with in real life. Of course, it's hard to determine what directions a show will go and what themes will develop simply from the pilot episode, but if the above allusions are intentional, this show may end up conveying some really potent messages by way of biblical imagery. Perhaps these refugees will find themselves on a similar journey as Israel--oppressed and killed because of their identity, a miraculous escape through water to safety, only to face trials and tribulations in the wilderness as they journey towards a promised land of freedom and prosperity. And with superpowers apparently to play a role, one wonders what "giants" they may find in the land along the way.

Update:
Sadly, ABC recently made the decision to cancel the show after its first season. It would have been interesting to see how the show developed over time given that a number of biblical themes seemed to persist throughout the first season. For example, the trend with biblical names continued consistently, the city where most of the plot takes place is called "Port Canaan" (an invented city name), one character is healed with the blood of another character, and there are numerous references to religion or churches both in dialogue and architecture. Who knows? Perhaps another network will pick it up one day.