Page 1942 – Christianity Today (2024)

A week after Navy SEAL Team 6 killed Osama Bin Laden in a walled compound in Afghanistan, three books on Navy SEALs were listed among the Top 20 sellers on Amazon.com. Among them was The Heart and the Fist: The Education of a Humanitarian, the Making of a Navy SEAL, by Eric Greitens (rhymes with “brightens”).

Greitens’ book is a memoir, currently a suspect genre. But military memoir is among the most reliable forms of the life-remembered story. Soldiers can tell horrendous tall tales, but the military keeps good records, and—as the 2004 presidential campaign showed—military exaggerations outside the barracks can provoke a rapid response.

The Greitens story begins with an ordinary boy obsessed with going to college. We are shown a few bumps on the road to Duke University, but college suits his natural curiosity. Then the story veers out of the experience of nearly every reader I could imagine. A Duke University sophom*ore from middle America drives to an urban boxing gym in Durham and starts doing pushups and sit-ups until he figures out what to do next. Within two weeks he has a trainer and spends the next three years working toward a Golden Glove tournament.

Wow!!!

Did I mention he earned a Rhodes Scholarship during the period he was hanging out in an inner city gym? If you were thinking Greitens took summers to rest with friends or family, at age 20 he spent the summer caring for refugees in Bosnia during the period of some of the worst ethnic cleansing. The next summer he was in Rwanda and Zaire caring for refugees of the genocide that claimed at least a half-million people. Although he would not become a SEAL for years after his experience in Rwanda, in the chapter on Rwanda Greitens tells the reader why he went from aid worker to combatant:

The international community had watched the genocide in Rwanda without lifting a finger. Ultimately, it had taken a military victory …[—]a Tutsi army that swept down from Uganda—to bring an end to the killing. We should have sent military assistance, maybe even U.S. Marines. Instead, too late, we sent money and food.

[W]e live in a world marked by violence, and if we want to protect others, we sometimes have to be willing to fight. We all understand at the most basic level that caring requires strength as well as compassion.

While earning a PhD at Oxford, Greitens worked with genocide victims in Bosnia and met Mother Teresa. Along the way he decided that humanitarian work needs protection, so at 26 he turned down a lucrative consulting career, joined the US Navy, and became a SEAL.

The next year he was fighting in Fallujah. Greitens describes a suicide vehicle bomb attack that included chlorine gas. He survived the attack, got to a rooftop to defend his unit’s position, then helped to rescue the wounded—in particular, a comrade who kept trying to put on his boots while he bled from a wound in the back of his head. I’ve been in that comrade’s shoes, figuratively speaking. I once walked away from a missile test explosion peppered with shrapnel that would lead to six eye operations and reattaching two fingers. I knew my crew chief needed help and I knew nothing else. So I started walking the five miles across the desert to the base hospital and get help.

Although Greitens was gassed, he ran every day after the attack until the effects of the chlorine gas wore off many weeks later. Ran. After being gassed.

Did I say wow?

As I read about this amazing man, I thought about the amazing soldiers I served with during the Viet Nam War, in the Cold War, and in Iraq in 2009-10. And I thought about the not-so-amazing men and women I served with. I knew a few Rangers and Special Forces troops who could have been SEALs. But most of the soldiers I served with, even some of the best, would probably have rung the bell three times, signaling that they’d reached their limit, and gone for the coffee and doughnuts that temptingly await those who wash out of SEAL training. I know I would have.

Coincidentally, when I received this book for review, I had just finished a book on envy and was beginning to re-read Vergil’s Aeneid. Reading Greitens’ book, I could have repented of envy after every chapter. His story reminded me of Aeneas, Achilles, Odysseus, Hector, and the Seven Against Thebes. They were the élite warriors of their era. The Old Testament lovingly records David’s Three and Thirty—the SEALs and Rangers of ancient Israel.

Then I thought about the thousands of soldiers each of those ancient heroes slew: the rest of the army. Reading The Aeneid, The Iliad, and the Book of Kings, it becomes clear that the role of most soldiers is to die at the hand of a champion or live to populate a new nation. Fall in battle or populate a village—all you have to do is stay clear of the champions and live through the war.

And that is my only quibble with this very well-told story: Greitens sweeps aside the heroism of all the lesser heroes of war. He writes, “I know—generally—who won’t make it through Hell Week (the toughest part of SEAL training). The weightlifting meatheads who think that the size of their biceps is an indication of their strength; they usually fail. The kids covered in tattoos announcing to the world how tough they are; they usually fail.” The list continues with preening leaders, me-first former athletes, blowhards, men who make excuses, talkers, and more—failures. Some of the best soldiers I ever served with were on this list.

Greitens says any 16 athletes can be trained to be killers, but that SEAL training, along with Army Ranger, Special Forces, and other élite training, gives these men the ability to use force with proportion. But with a few exceptions, American soldiers are the definition of proportional use of force when compared to any other army around the world and through most of recorded history.

I admire everything that Greitens is and all that he has accomplished. His book is a well-written memoir that shows just how good the best American soldiers really are, both with their hearts and their fists. But the rest of the military of the American military is, on the whole, a great fighting force.

Let me give one more example from my own experience. In 2009, I was stationed at Camp Adder in Iraq. The base commander was Colonel Peter Newell. In November 2004, Newell commanded the first battalion into the fight in Fallujah. He was among five soldiers who earned a Silver Star in that bloody day-and-night battle. The Army National Guard aviation unit at Camp Adder, the unit I served with, included an Illinois Blackhawk company that had flown for Newell in that 2004 battle. Newell’s ground troops were regular Army, not élite units.

The Guardsmen were railroad engineers, aircraft mechanics, security guards, construction workers, and pilots in civilian life. They were up before the sun loading weapons getting ready to fly Newell’s troops to the Iran-Iraq border. Sometimes they returned to the base wearing night vision goggles, then did post-flight maintenance under security lights before crawling into their bunks. In 2004, many of the same guys were flying into deadly fire in support of Newell’s troops. As one Blackhawk pilot told me, “We flew 150 knots [airspeed], 50 feet off the deck [the ground], expending ammo on the 240s [door guns] laying down fire. That was flyin’.” Between Fallujah in 2004 and deployment with us in 2009, he was one of the pilots for Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich.

The men who wash out of SEAL training or never qualify for it in the first place are the warriors who perform dull and dangerous missions every day. King David of Israel kept the Three and the Thirty in the palace, but he called up the rest of the army when it was time to go to war.

Despite this one caveat, I am going to read The Heart and the Fist to my sons this year. They are 11 and 12. They should know how a great life is lived in the modern world, and I can think of no one I would rather have them emulate than Eric Greitens.

Neil Gussman is communications manager at the Chemical Heritage Foundation. He blogs at armynow.blogspot.com.

Copyright © 2011 Books & Culture. Click for reprint information.

A move to Spokane, Washington, in the summer of 2004 brought many expected changes to our young family of four. There was a new call to pastor a congregation, new schools, a new house. But our home’s ready-to-harvest vegetable garden came as one of our biggest surprises. Little did we know, as we tentatively plucked tomatoes and snapped green beans off the vine for the first time in our lives, that this little inherited garden would bring the most change.

Before then, I had never seen homeowners mow their lawn or trim their trees, let alone harvest a backyard bounty of zucchini. For my husband, Craig, a lowly rhubarb plant provided his lone agrarian experience growing up in the Seattle suburbs. Like many in our Gen X generation, we grew up far removed from farming and agriculture, but since our first accidental harvest, we have joined a growing movement of backyard farmers.

A combination of recession economics and interest in “green” living has led to unprecedented growth in vegetable garden seed sales in recent years. Home Depot has named “Growing Your Own Food” one of its three gardening trends for 2011. “Edible landscaping” is a new catchphrase as we enter the heat of a new growing season. As a pastor and a Christian, I’ve come to see this move toward gardening as not only a step toward health and sustainability, but also as fertile ground for spiritual formation.

Craig has been the driving force behind our growing garden through the years. He added a greenhouse and turned every bare patch of earth in our yard into productive land. I have focused on weeding and cooking the harvest. I didn’t think we could expand the garden further until 2008, when our family committed to limit purchasing items that were local, used, homegrown, or homemade. Craig took the homegrown part to heart and proposed a plan: “Let’s take out the lawn and turn it into a vegetable garden labyrinth!”

Skeptical, I replied, “That’s nice.” It wasn’t until Craig showed up with a sod cutter in the back of his car that I realized he fully intended to tear out 2,000 square feet of grass and replace it with a maze modeled after the floor of the Chartes Cathedral.

We knew little about labyrinths at the beginning of this adventure, but as our plan emerged from the freshly revealed dirt we learned how they served as alternatives to long and risky pilgrimages to Jerusalem in the medieval church. Labyrinths were prayerful pathways meant to foster attentiveness and patience in their travelers, with each twist and turn leading closer to God at the center. Each turn the traveler takes is an occasion for reflection: am I turning away, or am I getting closer? And how could these questions help me pay attention to God’s voice in my life?

Our family established a rule early on: you have to walk on the path. No shortcuts. This helped nurture the growth of the plants, and also caused me to slow down and be careful. This was often an inconvenience, especially when running into the garden to grab some basil or chives for dinner. But every time I was tempted to skip, hop, and jump over the rows, I was forced to slow down and ask, Why am I in such a hurry? It forced me to pause and to remember to give thanks for all the beauty and new growth along the path.

Along with slowing me down, my work tending to the garden has helped me pay attention to the soil of my life. It is a way of daily living out the parable of the soils that Jesus teaches about. I especially relate to the soil Jesus describes as choked by thorns (Luke 8:7). That’s the weedy soil, and believe it or not I’ve come to be grateful for the weeds in our labyrinth.

How I used to hate to weed! I used to be so overwhelmed by the weeds that I’d turn in my gardening gloves for coffee and a magazine on the front porch. But I’ve learned to take one patch of earth at a time and I’ve learned the value of preparing the soil. When you’re pulling weeds, you’re not making something grandiose happen. All you are doing is preparing the soil for something to happen. The result is largely out of our control—it is God who makes the garden grow. But what we can do is prepare the soil as best as we can.

And often I came to realize it’s not just the soil that needed tending.

One day while weeding the designated patch for the day, I became aware of an awfully loud noise. It wasn’t the neighbor’s obnoxious leaf blower. It was the noise of all the things I was anxious about, people I was angry with, an argument left unresolved. There were a lot of fat, weedy thorns taking up space in my mind and soul. My time in the garden helped prepare the soil of my life, inviting God into the noise and unrest inside. It was God’s turn to do the weeding and gently lead me toward the center again.

The garden lessons in paying attention led Nancy Goodwin, mom of Noel (11) and Lily (8), and Presbyterian pastor with husband Craig, into a year-long experiment in consumption, choosing to consume only things that were locally produced, used, homegrown or homemade. The Goodwins’ family adventure is chronicled in Craig Goodwin’s book, ‘Year of Plenty: One Suburban Family, Four Rules and 365 Days of Homegrown Adventure in Pursuit of Christian Living (Sparkhouse Press)’.

Heaven’s Rain recreates an amazing true story of forgiveness with a so-so movie treatment. For sure, this independent film—now available on DVD—has some strong qualities and is far better than most you’ll see from the faith-based market. I just can’t help thinking such a powerful tale deserves an equally powerful production.

At the age of 27, Brooks Douglass, the son of a missionary pastor, was the youngest state senator ever elected to office in Oklahoma. But eleven years earlier in 1979, his family suffered a horrific tragedy. Two drifters arrived at their home, bound 16-year-old Brooks and his parents hand and foot, then led 12-year-old sister Leslie upstairs and raped her. Afterward, the men shot the four family members before escaping, leaving them all for dead. Brooks and Leslie survived and drove to a neighbor’s home for medical attention.

The story doesn’t end there, of course. Brooks and Leslie both dealt with deep emotional scars in the years that followed (and to this day, undoubtedly). If Heaven’s Rain focused more on that, it might have yielded deeper resonance. What helped these siblings along in the ’80s? Faith? Friendship? There’s reference to Brooks working his way through college and then joining Special Forces before eventually taking office, and Leslie surely found psychological care to aid in emotional recovery over time. But Heaven’s Rain skirts most of that, breaking the cardinal rule of “Show, Don’t Tell” in a film that needed to better share these details.

Instead the movie relies on heavy—and disjointed—use of flashbacks to detail Brooks’ life in the Amazon rainforest bonding with his father (played by none other than the real-life Brooks, who also co-wrote). These scenes are sometimes touching, but the flashbacks are too frequent without always justifying their relevance to the present day scenes surrounding them.

Muddled storytelling and pokey pacing aside, the filmmaking is still strong, on par with most independent productions seen in art house theaters today. Director and co-writer Paul Brown has a strong TV resume that ranges from The X-Files and Quantum Leap to Pacific Blue and the recent Camp Rock movies. It also helps that the film relies on experienced unknowns for actors rather than amateurs. And the filmmakers handle the difficult subject matter with great sensitivity. Though rated R for some disturbing violent content, there are only brief flashes to the night of the murder—it’s not much worse than what is shown in TV crime procedurals these days.

Without giving too much away, Heaven’s Rain is strongest in the final thirty minutes when Leslie recollects her side of the ordeal to a reporter and Brooks makes a brave confrontation. These scenes are positively electrifying in content and acting. If only the rest of the movie was equal to the task, but Heaven’s Rain still serves as a loving testament from son to father, and an impactful testimony about loving our enemies while forgiving ourselves.

Here’s the trailer:

“What book are you recommending now to the average workaday pastor?” asked my friend, who is hardly an average pastor. A church with a four-digit membership roll is enormous in an America where most congregations are still small.

My answer surprised me: Eugene Peterson’s new memoir, The Pastor. Not because it’s not great – it is a powerful piece of theological storytelling about a life that has influenced all of North American Christianity (don’t believe me? Heard of The Message?). And my friend’s response surprised me more: “It sounds like Wendell Berry. I love Berry.”

Why should a pastor of a church of 1,500, and an employee at a leadership institute that invests in large congregations, both love Berry and Peterson? Both are theologians and poets who love the local, the regional, the particular, and loathe the large, the abstract, the anonymous. A theologian-pastor friend once opined to me that he couldn’t imagine a faithful church of more than 200 members. How can you really know more people than that? This Berryian, Petersonian claim is an odd one in an America in which professing to have 1,000 Facebook “friends” is nothing special.

But why should my friend and I both be committed to the importance of large congregations and love writers who loathe them?

The Pastor details Peterson’s love for a regular gathering of pastors when he served a small (what other kind?!) congregation in Maryland. “The Company” met while learning the basics of psychology together, and kept meeting when the CPE-style class ended. They wondered together how a pastor is different than any other caregiver, and how the rhythm of their worship leadership could ripple out into the rest of their lives. And this group of mostly Christian pastors, ranging from mainline liberal to unapologetically evangelical, listened attentively to their one rabbi member about how the Sabbath works its way out in Jewish life via the Torah.

At one point a member decides to leave The Company to take a much bigger church. He spoke of “multiplying his effectiveness.” Peterson is distressed. He writes the man a confrontational letter in which he runs over him with a train, backs up, and runs over him again: the man’s decision has to do not with Christ-like service, but with “American values,” like “adrenaline and ego and size.” Peterson quotes Kierkegaard’s adage, “The more people, the less truth.” He speaks of large churches as offering a “false transcendence” contrary to a Christian maturity marked by “intimacy, renunciation, and personal deepening.” In effect, he excommunicates large church pastors from The Company (though he doesn’t stop to kick the Catholic priest out, despite the man’s 1,000-family parish!).

So why should I and my friend love such a voice as it accuses us who love large churches of blasphemy?

Because Peterson is largely right. Large churches can offer a flight from God and the neighbor who meet us face-to-face, and toward mere entertainment. Small churches can remind the large that salvation is always personal, and often difficult. I’ve made such arguments in my own book on the grandeur of small churches.

But here’s the thing: large churches don’t have to go that way. They can be communities that are more hospitable than small ones. If they divide up into small groups for prayer and worship and study and service, as the early Methodists did and faithful megachurches do today, they can offer first-name discipleship themselves. And large churches offer that, obviously enough, to more people than small churches can. And those “more people” aren’t a faceless mass. They are souls for whom Jesus died and rose, whom he longs to gather under his wings like a mother hen her chicks. Large churches remind the small that there are lots of people out there with no church – being satisfied with the small can mean keeping Jesus to ourselves.

We need to hear critics like Peterson carping in our ears as we love the large. They can be right. And we’ll hold that word opposably with a word that sees God’s saving goodness even in large congregations.

Multi-Faith Matters

Thanks for Ed Stetzer’s thoughtful cover story dealing with a pressing theme [“Proselytizing in a Multi-Faith World,” April]. We need more of this kind of discussion. In my own multi-faith encounters and dialogue, I have discovered that both my respect for others and my relationship with Christ deepen. Imagine that.

Tony RichieE-mail

Ed Stetzer wisely admonishes readers to let every religion speak for itself. But he proceeds to speak on behalf of Buddhists, Hindus, and Muslims. This irony reaches a crescendo when he states, “Al Qaeda does not represent mainstream Islam any more than one Qur’an-burning pastor or the Ku Klux Klan represents Jesus’ followers.” This is a common sentiment among Christians trying to make sense of Islamic violence, but one I rarely hear from Muslims.

I continue to wait for mainstream Islamic leaders to unite in passionately and forcefully condemning Muslims’ acts of terrorism.

Rich ChamberlainCohasset, Massachusetts

To see why we should talk about individuals’ beliefs rather than entire religions, we need look no farther than our own churches. How frequently in talking with members of the same church or denomination does it become clear they don’t really understand the doctrinal views of their own tradition? I’ve had Catholics tell me that the Catholic Church does not teach transubstantiation. Meanwhile, how many Baptists, Methodists, and Lutherans believe that they are going to heaven because they’ve tried to be good people and do the right thing?

John LauferE-mail

Who is Islam’s God?

Theologian Miroslav Volf’s argument [“Do Muslims and Christians Worship the Same God?,” April] is this, in a nutshell: Yes, there are differences between the Islamic and Christian understandings of God, but there are also similarities. Are we therefore to see these differences as a glass half-empty or half-full? Volf says half-full.

I disagree. All we have to do is look at the Qur’an, which repeatedly insists that the people of the Book (Jews and Christians) have corrupted their sacred literature (the Bible). What about the Qur’an’s insistence that Jesus is not divine and did not die on the cross? What about Muhammad’s claim that since the religious practice of the Jews is false, some of them have been transformed into apes and swine?

Effective dialogue between Christians and Muslims must start with frankly acknowledging the vast differences that divide us. The glass is actually almost empty. Anything less than such an admission will confuse the process.

Robert C. GreerElgin, Illinois

The essential question is whether there is any other God besides Yahweh. Of course people worship many things: money, fame, power, sex, thereby making for themselves little gods. But there is only one God, and to the degree that a Jew, Muslim, Christian, or anyone else seeks to worship in sincerity and truth the One from whom all things come, they worship the only God there is. Jesus said as much to the Samaritan woman at the well: “You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know …” (John 4:22).

Fred JessettSammamish, Washington

Outpatient Theology

Most writers featured in Christianity Today seem to be thinking about God instead of with him. But this month, I went immediately to David Weiss’s “God of the Schizophrenic” [April] and sat crying at the depth and authenticity of it. He beats out all the New Testament professors this month for relevance and powerful message.

David, keep writing. You are stupendous!

Gigi BibeaultSan Rafael, California

CT Unpacks Hell, Bell

I appreciate how CT’s review of Love Wins noted the strengths of both evangelical and liberal theological traditions [“What’s Up with Hell?,” April]. Mark Galli spoke to actual points rather than a trumped-up caricature of the author. Thanks for that. Maybe one day Christians will act like family instead of opposing sides of a bloody war. If so, reviews like this one will have done their job.

Allyn Harris DaultSt. Louis, Missouri

I haven’t read Love Wins yet, but would be surprised if Bell credits his theology to Friedrich Schleiermacher, Albrecht Ritschl, Rudolf Bultmann, or Paul Tillich, as CT suggests. In fact, affirming the divinity of Jesus and the historical truth of the Resurrection places Bell squarely in the evangelical fold. I find it odd that the reviewer would insist on painting Bell with the Schleiermacher brush, as it comes off as an undeserved slur, a guilt by association.

Bill GuerrantKeeling, Virginia

Great article, CT. As a pastor for 13 years in a liberal church tradition, I’m perplexed by Bell’s infatuation with elements of old-school liberalism. He’s certainly not saying anything new or shocking. I think you have identified the root issue: ultimately Rob Bell is accountable to Rob Bell—not to a hierarchy, denomination, or the larger stream of Christian thought (expressed via the church fathers, for instance).

Unfortunately, Bell isn’t the only evangelical who works within an independent church system. For all of our criticisms of Roman Catholicism, at least that tradition has a spiritual leader who can stand up and say, “Sorry, but that’s out of bounds.”

Matthew WoodleyWheaton, Illinois

What got the most comments in April’s CT

37% Do Muslims and Christians Worship the Same God? interview with Miroslav Volf

18% Proselytizing in a Multi-Faith World by Ed Stetzer

17% What’s Up with Hell? by Mark Galli

Readers’ Pick

The most praised piece in April’s CT

God of the SchizophrenicDavid Weiss

Worth Repeating

“I have to daily guard my heart against cynicism toward Christians who value politics more than discipleship.”Brother Stephen, on the intentions of the President and his guests at the Easter prayer breakfast.CT Politics Blog: “Keller, Jakes Among Obama’s Prayer Breakfast Guests,” by Alicia Cohn

“The most vocal Christians tend to believe there is something wrong with painting a little boy’s toenails. Your post was a nice reminder that there are good, reasonable, intelligent believers.”Amanda, thanking the author (despite religious differences) for her response to a J. Crew ad depicting a boy with pink toenails.Her.meneutics: “Why I Let My Son Wear Pink,” by Ellen Painter Dollar

“A reviewer wondered where the sex and swearing was. Those are components of the lives of many Christian kids, but it’s sad he can’t imagine that a chaste teen could be a real character in a compelling story”Joey, on the media’s reaction to the movie Soul Surfer and its depiction of Christian teen Bethany Hamilton and her family.CT Entertainment Blog: “Why Are Christian Movies So Awful?,” by Mark Moring

“I pray for the day evangelicalism is defined more by the gospel and less by politics”John, discussing the results of a recent Pew Research Center poll.CT Politics Blog: “Majority of Evangelicals Prefer Government Shutdown to Budget Compromise,” by Tobin Grant

Copyright © 2011 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

Related Elsewhere:

The April issue is available on our website.

Letters to the editor must include the writer’s name and address if intended for publication. They may be edited for space or clarity.

E-mail: cteditor@christianitytoday.com

Fax: 630.260.8428

Faith-motivated individuals, faith-based organizations, and the transformative power of faith itself are proven keys in reducing crime and improving the effectiveness of the criminal justice system," claims Baylor University criminologist Byron R. Johnson. The author of More God, Less Crime: Why Faith Matters and How It Could Matter More (Templeton Press) spoke with First Things online editor Joe Carter about why social scientists hesitate to acknowledge the power of faith, and how faith-based organizations can overcome an aversion to partnering with the government.

You present evidence that greater involvement in religious activities lessens the likelihood of turning to crime. Why are many social scientists reluctant to make this connection?

I don't think this message resonates with most social scientists. It is widely known that social scientists, on the whole, are not very religious people. Worse, some are even hostile toward religion. In fact,the word religion is not mentioned in most criminology or criminal justice textbooks, despite what we've learned in recent years about the links between religious belief and practices and crime reduction. One criminologist recently told me there should be an entire sub-field within the discipline looking at the role of religion.

What role should faith-based organizations have in the criminal justice system?

On the whole, I believe faith-based organizations are merely tolerated within the criminal justice system. In some jurisdictions, faith-motivated individuals and organizations are seen as valuable, but elsewhere they are often viewed with suspicion. Some correctional officials view religious volunteers as more of a nuisance than a help. They see them as looking to save souls, and not having a clue about prison security or manipulative inmates. But as the criminal justice system faces cutbacks and shrinking budgets, it will need many allies to effectively manage prison populations. Faith-based organizations provide a key source of volunteers, many of whom are highly trained and eager to assist—not only with spiritual matters but also with traditional programs in life skills, adult basic education, and other important areas.

Are the attitudes of faith-based organizations preventing them from effectively partnering with government agencies?

It's more a case of ignorance than attitude. Many prison ministries are nothing more than individuals who feel called to reach out to the incarcerated. Many of them operate in complete isolation of other faith-based ministries. By and large these groups do a poor job of communicating with and supporting each other. Their approach lacks the coordination necessary to combat problems that require comprehensive solutions. Faith-based groups may do a good job of preaching the gospel in prison, but they need to do a better job of mentoring prisoners while they are incarcerated and sticking with them once they leave.

How would you respond to critics—both secular and Christian—who are leery of faith-based organizations partnering with government?

There are valid reasons for both groups to have reservations, but this should not prevent them from collaborating, especially since we face such daunting problems. Let's test the proposition that religious and secular groups might overcome the obstacles that prevent partnerships from happening. I suspect and hope that when this happens, we will see a great number of myths and stereotypes shattered.

One of your studies found that born-again inmates were just as likely to return to prison as other inmates. Yet you argue that "jailhouse religion"—a conversion experience during prison—can still be valuable. Can you elaborate?

Conversion, in my opinion, is only a first step. It's naïve to think that someone who has a born-again experience won't encounter problems once they leave prison. Spiritual transformation is an ongoing process. If converted inmates are appropriately nurtured and challenged in their newfound faith, they can grow spiritually. I see spiritual development and prisoner rehabilitation going hand in hand.

Can a faith-based prison program rehabilitate inmates, or does the process primarily occur after their release?

I believe the answer to both questions is "yes." I have seen inmates change dramatically over a year or two in prison. They can quote Scripture all day long, and seem contrite and deeply committed in their faith. However, life on the streets is very difficult. They are often without the support and accountability they experienced in prison. When you observe former prisoners in the community, you quickly understand how fragile their situation is and how easy it is for them to become fatalistic if things don't go the right way. This is why mentors and supportive congregations have to be closely involved.

What advice would you give to churches looking to help former prisoners and their families?

First, folks should consider doing some homework to learn about what's happening in particular churches and communities. There may be thriving ministries that need volunteers. People should consider assisting more muscular ministries that are already having an impact. Also, churches should learn to identify "intermediary" organizations that attempt to identify problems and needs, and then match these with appropriate resources. I believe they hold the key to dealing comprehensively with problems like crime and delinquency, and reintegrating prisoners into society.

Copyright © 2011 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

Related Elsewhere:

More God, Less Crime is available from Barnes & Noble and other book retailers.

Worship Behind the Razor Wire | A growing number of prison churches offer community for convicts. (March 13, 2009)

Rx for Recidivism | Prison Fellowship president Mark Earley talks about challenges the ministry faces. (November 21, 2006)

Imprisoned Ministry | The future of Prison Fellowship's rehabilitation program, and other faith-based social services, are in the hands of an appeals court. (July 14, 2006)

Healthy people grow. Healthy animals grow. Healthy trees grow. Healthy plants grow. Healthy churches grow. Growth is a characteristic that God supernaturally breathed into all living things. And the body of Christ—the local church—is a living thing.

So, when a church is not growing, it is helpful to ask: “Why not?”

Here are five “growth-restricting obstacles.” If we understand the reason for non-growth, it is easier to accurately diagnose and prescribe the cure.

Growth-restricting obstacle #1: The Pastor.

There are three different causes for the pastor’s inhibiting the growth of a church:

1. The pastor does not have a priority. Churches grow when they have a priority for reaching the unchurched. When the pastor doesn’t, the church won’t.
2. The pastor does not have a vision. No vision for outreach is as much a barrier as no priority. Growing churches have pastors who believe God wants to reach people in their community and assimilate them into the Body.
3. The pastor does not have the knowledge. Working harder is not the secret to effective outreach. The secret is working smarter. Unfortunately, little is taught in seminaries or Bible schools about how to effectively reach and assimilate new people.

Growth-restricting obstacle #2: The church members.

There are often competent and skilled clergy in non-growing churches, because the problem is in the pews. Church members can keep a church from growing when:

Members have no priority for reaching the lost. “Sure, our church should reach people,” some say. “But me? I’ve got three kids, a job, membership at the health club, and a lawn to mow. Someone else with more time should feel compelled.”

Members have a self-serving attitude about church. When members believe the priority of the pastor and the church should be to “feed the sheep,” the message that newcomers hear is: “We like our church just the way it is…which is without you!”

Members fear that new people will destroy their fellowship. When “community” is the number one priority in a church, members will act in a way that communicates to newcomers: “We’re just fine with the people we have, thank you.”

Growth-restricting obstacle #3: Perceived irrelevance.

Growing churches start with the issues and concerns of the people in their community, and then relate the gospel to those points of need. Stagnant churches are seen by the unchurched as having an irrelevant message to their life.

Growth-restricting obstacle #4: Using the wrong methods.

Any farmer knows you can’t harvest ripe wheat with a corn-picker. Using inappropriate methods can be worse than no methods, since they create resistance to the gospel. A bullhorn on a street corner, tracts in an urban neighborhood, youth outreach in a senior adult community…none of these methods are wrong. But they are inappropriate for the harvest field.

Growth-restricting obstacle #5: No plan for assimilation.

Over 80 percent of those who drop out of church do so in the first year of their membership. A new member does not automatically become an active member without an intentional plan by the church on how to assimilate them into a caring, loving, Christian community.

There are many reasons why churches don’t grow. But there are no good reasons. Healthy churches grow. God wants your church to grow. He created it to grow. Sometimes it’s just a matter of finding out why it’s not growing, and removing those obstacles. What about your church?

A note from David Staal, who turned this writing space over to his son: “Many churches send teams on mission trips during the summer months, including youth groups. Reports from these ventures often focus on the work performed and the difference made in the lives of those people the team served. But what about the impact on the hearts of those who did the serving? Back home, parents passionately pray that God will tug on the heart of their child during the trip. I speak firsthand about those prayers; my son recently returned from his first mission journey (my wife was on the same trip). After you read the column he wrote for his high school newspaper, spend another moment imagining what would happen if more youth experienced a similar adventure of the heart. Go ahead, forward this column to your church’s youth pastor.”

We live in a world that revolves around our “stuff.” We are constantly surrounded by an abundance of belongings. But too often, one item is missing: appreciation. Sometimes, everything must be taken away to be truly thankful for anything. Where would something like that happen? Take a look at Carrefour, Haiti. I saw it firsthand.

Walking down a typical Haitian street, destruction appears on every block for miles. Concrete buildings lie in heaps of rubble, trash litters the rivers and hundreds of blue and gray U.S. AID tarps line the sidewalks. Everyday, people sit outside their homes trying to sell fruits they scavenged, sandals they salvaged, or anything that they can find—to anyone they can find. All of this is the new reality of life after the devastating 7.0 magnitude earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12, 2010.

I walked those streets while on a mission trip with a team from my church a few weeks ago. While there, we broke cement walls apart and removed countless tons of rubble that used to be homes, so that families could rebuild one day. I met and moved rocks with many Haitians and observed the ruins they live in. Despite the destruction, one thing stands clear: Haitians are thankful a lot—even though they have little.

During the week our team was in Haiti, we lived in a half-school, half-church building. Every morning, kids in grades kindergarten through eighth came in and played before they started their day. Our team got to kick soccer balls and blow bubbles before they started class, as every single kid grins. For them, learning is a privilege—and they are thankful for it.

Then I met Stanley—a 17-year-old guy just like me. Yet, his life is nothing like mine. Stanley doesn’t have a mom or dad so he was forced to live with his aunt. I learned that she died in the earthquake; Stanley now lives at an orphanage. Plans were set up by an American family to adopt him, but the adoption fell through. He literally has no one in his life—no family, no friends. Yet, he wears a smile on his face and is grateful for what he has—life.

A crisis exists in Haiti. Major cleanup and rebuilding needs to take place, jobs must be created and money needs to circulate to the Haitian people. Problems will keep mounting unless something amazing happens.

But there is a crisis here as well. Sure, there hasn’t been an earthquake, a cholera epidemic or political violence. Instead, the crisis is found deep in our hearts. I notice that we are thankful only a little, even though we have a lot. I notice that in myself, too.

Here, students complain and argue with teachers as we sit inside our air-conditioned school. In Haiti, songs, clapping, and laughter are the sounds made by students at their wooden desks. … It’s easy for us to whine about our cafeteria food. They have scarce electricity, no air circulation, or lunches.

I suspect that our crisis—overflowing ungratefulness—will also continue unless something amazing happens.

The place to start is to notice all the “stuff” that surrounds us. Appreciation is a choice anyone can make. And everyone should, myself included. Let’s decide to be thankful for all that we have—because it could all be gone one day.

And think about giving some of it away to the Haitians.

Scott’s father, David, is senior editor of the children’s ministry area for BuildingChurchLeaders.com and president of Kids Hope USA, a national non-profit organization that partners local churches with elementary schools to provide mentors for at-risk students. Prior to this assignment, David led Promiseland, the children’s ministry at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois. David is the author of Words Kids Need to Hear (2008) and lives in Grand Haven, Michigan, with his wife Becky, son Scott, and daughter Erin. Interested in David speaking at your event? Click here.

This article is adapted from a column that first appeared in the June 2, 2011, edition of Grand Haven High School’s newspaper, Bucs Blade.

©2011, Scott Staal

I slink into bed, click on my light, and grab the book. Guilt shakes me a bit. After all I’ve read about these sorts of stories, I figure by the end I’ll hate my husband or hunger for more of the escape they offer.

So why do I risk this? Because the night before, I had sat next to its author at a book-signing. Because she and I chatted and laughed for hours. Because I really liked her. And because I want to find out if it’s true: Whether she, as a romance novelist, is really just an emotional p*rnographer.

The belief that popular romance novels are “p*rnography for women” has been around a long time. In my tenure as editor of Marriage Partnership magazine a decade ago, we ran stories of women addicted to romance novels, whose obsession with romantic ideals had destroyed their marriages. Other articles have claimed romance novels are sort of a gateway drug to actual p*rn for women. Others still say that even romantic comedies are a sort of emotional p*rn. And just a few weeks ago, popular Southern Baptist theologian Russell Moore wrote about a new book that equates romance novels with p*rn.

While Moore doesn’t morally equate the two, he sees strong similarities. “Both are based on an illusion,” Moore writes. Even with Christian romance novels, Moore says, “A lot of this genre … is simply a Christianization of a form not intended to enhance intimacy but to escape to an artificial illusion of it.”

Hence, my guilt.

As it turned out, however, after finishing and enjoying my first, then second Christian romance novel—Yukon Wedding by my book-signing friend Allie Pleiter, and Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers—I still preferred my own husband to the books’ hard-chested, rugged, rich, and righteous heroes. (I find it terribly sexy that my husband doesn’t see me in need of constant rescue.) And even after two back-to-back romances, I wasn’t compelled to rush out and buy more. I may be hooked on reading, but not on romance, per se.

Still, Moore’s premise nagged at me. I did enjoy the “escape” and illusion the books offered. It’s nice to enter a world where broken people get their pieces put back together.

So I asked Pleiter, a Chicago-based writer who boasts 12 published romance novels (plus 2 non-fiction works), a speech degree from Northwestern University, six translations of Beowolf, and a happy 21-year marriage, what she thought of the charges. I wanted to know what she had to say about those who claim her genre sets up women for unrealistic expectations and has the power to derail marriages.

“Most women are smart enough to know that real life has no violins swelling behind the drop-dead-gorgeous hero professing love in a dramatic sunset,” Pleiter says. “They can be entertained by the ideal of the story without turning it into some kind of impossible relational checklist.”

I think she’s dead-on. Any of us who enjoy reading fiction—of any stripe—do so in part for the entertaining escape. Whether it’s romance or mystery, literary novels or action-packed adventures, we love reading because we love getting lost into other people’s lives, worlds, interests, and desires. We can enjoy all the good of their world or cringe at the hardship, all the while understanding that it is made up.

Of course, some might try this logic with p*rn: that p*rnography viewers (or readers) understand it’s not real. But there’s a difference still, and it lies in Scripture. Philippians 4:8 says, “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable.”

Simply put: romance is lovely, among other things—or at least can be. Romance can and does get corrupted in our fallen world, but even God uses romance in his Word as an image to help us understand his love for us and what our love for him might be. God never uses images of lust and degrading sex to do the same.

While the people involved in p*rn, at any level, are redeemable and loved by God, the medium is not. It’s neither true, nor honorable, nor right, pure, lovely, nor admirable. p*rn hurts everyone involved, and even those not involved. Romance novels, for example, don’t readily contribute to the trafficking of women and children in the sex trade. p*rn does.

Christian romance novels may indeed hold some danger for some. If your relationships suffer because of them, of course don’t read them. And if—as is often the case with those who view p*rn—you read romance novels to fulfill your own unmet longings and needs, be warned: you won’t.

But unlike p*rn, which offers empty depravity, Christian romance stories offer something beautiful and hopeful and God-honoring: stories of people overcoming hurts and heartache and finding love.

In fact, this is why Pleiter says she writes Christian romance. “I welcome the chance,” she says, “to pull readers out of their daily lives for a few hours and show them a lovely world where people forgive one another and where love conquers all.”

Pushing back on Moore’s comment, Pleiter says this isn’t about creating an illusion but holding up an ideal.

While we may not agree on all the “ideals” romance novels convey, Pleiter raises a good point. It is the ideal of being forgiven and love conquering all that appealed to me. And while my brain knows this isn’t always true, my heart wishes it were. The good news is that my soul knows it will. Not in a book. Not in this life. But one day.

So, far from wrecking marriages, the occasional Christian romance should strengthen our hope. Nothing to feel guilty about there.

Style: Blues/soul/Americana; compare to Gil Correia, B.B. King, Tom Waits, Muddy Waters

Top Tracks: “Cardboard Box,” “Hold Me,” “Live Your Life for a Change”

After decades of playing first rock and more recently the blues, Glenn Kaiser releases arguably one of the most important works of his career, Cardboard Box, dedicated to Chicago’s homeless. Surpassing politics surrounding the issue of homelessness, Kaiser looks directly at its people. And what better sound than that of his improvisational, soulful guitar licks to voice the cries of a hurting community? His storytelling brims with both hope (“Opportunity Dance”) and despair (“The Protest”), acting as a mouthpiece for the suffering while issuing a charge to God’s children, lest we forget, “one day we will answer for the love we did not send.” (Proceeds from the album benefit Cornerstone Community Outreach.)

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