Newt Gingrich’s Comic Repentance -- Sightings

Generally, Martin Marty stays clear of politics, but Newt Gingrich's recent story of repentance simply had to be addressed.  Newt is going to run for President as a champion of family values, though his own family values are suspect.  He's on wife #3.  He says he's repented, and that he's forgiven (I have no problem with that), but his rationale for his bad behavior is rather bizarre -- Marty calls it comic.  I'm going to leave the rest to you to consider Marty's analysis (including his interaction with Psalm 51).

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Sightings 3/14/2011

Newt Gingrich’s Comic Repentance

-- Martin E. Marty

After a week of tsunamis, earthquakes, Libyan horrors, Philadelphia clerical sex scandal news, National Public Radio disasters, and National Football League lock-out threats, we the people look for some comic relief. Celebrity politician Newt Gingrich provided this as he gave the Christian Broadcasting Network audience a rationale for his having committed a plethora of adulteries with, evidently inter alia, three wives. “[P]artially driven by how passionately I felt about this country. . . . I worked far too hard and things happened in my life that were not appropriate,” he said. Things didn’t “happen,” everyone but Mr. Gingrich knows; he “happened” them. The rationale, people across the spectrum agree, related to Mr. Gingrich’s political efforts to gain support for a probable—or, at least, once probable—presidential nomination candidacy.

“I felt compelled to seek God’s forgiveness. Not God’s understanding, but God’s forgiveness,” Gingrich said. Had he been talking to God in private repentance, what he said would have been no one’s business except God’s and his. Since he was talking publicly to the media and to the evangelicals he was courting, it is legitimate to note the comic dimensions of what he said. Remember what showman George M. Cohan once observed: “Many a bum show has been saved by the flag.” Mr. Gingrich, in his bum show, reached for the flag and pleaded the patriot excuse.

“Talk about a forgiving God?” he asked, or said, as he shifted into biblical mode. The template for politically-motivated repentance is the story of King David of old, who felt “passionately about his country,” enough to have something “happen in his life that was not appropriate.” That was having his general Uriah killed so that David’s adultery with Mrs. Uriah could be covered up. Serious evangelicals, and there are millions of them, are rightfully offended by this ploy. They may see similarities in the plot of David’s and Newt’s careers. Chapter headings in Steven L. McKenzie’s King David: A Biography include “Holy Terrorist: David and His Outlaw Band,” “Assassin,” “Like Father, Like Son: The Bathsheba Affair and Absalom’s Revolt.” Yes, many things in David’s case, though on a lesser scale, had also happened and were not appropriate.

McKenzie summarizes the record, including: “One of David’s wives is his best friend’s sister and his enemy’s daughter. . . . Some of his brides were new widows whose husbands had very recently died under suspicious circumstances.” We read that he’d “sent for Bathsheba and ‘lay’ with her.” (II. Sam. 11:4. Nothing is said of her feelings.) The King, “feeling passionate about [his] country,” had “worked too hard,” as evidenced when he brought Uriah on the scene. “All David could think to do was ask general questions about the welfare of the army and the war,” questions whose answer he knew.

Evangelicals believe that Psalm 51, a classic, the classic, of repentance literature was later written by David. They take their cue from an ancient subtitle, Psalm 51: “A Psalm of David, when the prophet Nathan came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.” The climactic Psalm line, to God: “Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight.” The stakes were high, but no match for those today, when a possible candidate has to make his case before a more stern judge: a bloc of voters in an American election. That Mr. Gingrich tried to be forgiven while using the “patriotism” and “overworking” excuses is what leads many to see a usually serious act turning out to have been what we called “comic.” Now, back to the serious matters of the week.

References


Steven L. McKenzie, King David: A Biography (Oxford, 2000).

UPI, “Gingrich: Working Too ‘Hard’ Led to Affair,” March 9, 2011.

Maggie Haberman, “Newt Gingrich: ‘I Was Doing Things That Were Wrong',” Politico, March 8, 2011.

Matt Sullivan, “How Newt Gingrich Misplaced His Member,” Esquire, March 9, 2011.

Martin E. Marty's biography, current projects, publications, and contact information can be found at www.illuminos.com.

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This month’s Religion and Culture Web Forum is written by D. Max Moerman and entitled “The Death of the Dharma: Buddhist Sutra Burials in Early Medieval Japan.” In eleventh-century Japan, Buddhists fearing the arrival of the "Final Dharma"--an age of religious decline--began to bury sutras in sometimes-elaborate reliquaries. Why entomb a text, making it impossible for anyone to see or read it? And what do such practices teach us about the meaning and purpose of texts in Buddhism and other religions? Max Moerman of Barnard College takes up these questions with responses from Jeff Wilson (Renison University College), James W. Watts (Syracuse University) and Vincent Wimbush (Claremont Graduate University).

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Sightings comes from the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School.

Poured Out -- A Lectionary Meditation

Joel 2:23-32

2 Timothy 4:6-18

Luke 8:9-14

Poured Out

Each week, as I sit down to write this lectionary meditation, I look at the text to see if there is something that connects them in one way or another. After all, the creators of the lectionary have tried to some extent to bring some thematic unity to their choices. It doesn’t always work, but often something sticks out, something catches the imagination. As I looked at these three texts, which in some ways are quite distinct, a phrase stood out in two of the passages – the words “pour[ed] out.” In the Joel passage, the Spirit is poured out on the whole people, empowering and equipping them to bear witness to the things of God. In the passage from 2 Timothy, the author (assumed to be Paul in the text) claims to have been “poured out as a libation.” That is, he is being offered up as an offering to God. The words don’t appear in the Lukan parable, but consider the cry of the tax collector, he pours out his heart before God, seeking forgiveness. It could be that the Spirit is being poured out upon us, or it may be that the calling of God has led to our being poured out as an offering, or perhaps it is the need to pour out the heart to God so as to receive God’s gracious offer of forgiveness. Whatever is the case, we are being called upon to rest our lives in the hands of God.

If there is this common word usage, the passages themselves take us in different directions. Each is well known to many people of faith. The Joel passage has long been familiar to me as it has been used as a basis of Pentecostal theology. The second half of the passage serves as a foundation for Peter’s sermon in Acts 2, where he interprets the events of the Pentecost experience in light of this very text. In Peter’s mind (as presented by Luke), Joel’s promises of the coming of the Spirit upon the people of God so that young and old, male and female, slave and free might bear witness to God’s grace is being fulfilled. The first half has been used by Pentecostal preachers to suggest that the renewed Pentecostal experience of the 20th century is itself a fulfillment of Joel, and thus is a sign that God is winding things down. What had been lost, as Aimee Semple McPherson, declared in a famous sermon, has now been restored. Now is the time of the Latter Rain. Whatever our sense of the Pentecostal interpretation, there is a strong promise here that God is at work restoring that which is broken.

In the letter to Timothy, the author (named here as Paul) is reflecting on his own life, and acknowledging that the end is near. He has fought the good fight and has finished the race. He did what God had called upon him to do. He has no regrets, for he now awaits the “crown of righteousness,” which awaits all those who long for the appearing of Christ Jesus. Yes, it has been difficult at times – witness the report of the opposition and even abandonment by friends and supporters. But in the end, it doesn’t matter, because even if his human friends abandoned him – I picture the author identifying himself with Jesus on the night of his betrayal – the Lord has stood with him. Yes, the Lord has stood with him so that the message of God might be proclaimed to the Gentiles. He has been rescued from attacks by those who would do him evil, but now the heavenly realm awaits him, he is content, and so he can stop and offer praise to God for his glory.

The Lukan Parable is brief, powerful, and requiring a bit of caution as we approach it. The point of the parable is to address those who put their trust in their own righteousness, and not only that but treat others with contempt. Yes, this is a parable that challenges our tendency toward self-righteousness. “But, by the grace of God, goes me,” we might like to say. We think of this sentiment as giving praise to God, but does it really? Are we not suggesting that God somehow loves us more than the other, which is why we’re not down on our luck?

The person in this passage who goes home forgiven, after going to the Temple to pray, is a Tax Collector. As we all know, tax collectors have been despised since the beginning of time. For a tax collector to refer to the self as a “miserable sinner” would be deemed appropriate by most of us. This man, who has gone to the Temple, acts in a manner appropriate to one who has sinned. He dare not look up into the heavens, for that would be the height of arrogance. No, he bowed his head low, as a sign of his contrition for his misdeeds. He beats his breast as a sign of his grief at his actions in life, and asks that God would be merciful to him for he is a mere sinner.

The moral of the story is that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. Or as Jesus says elsewhere, the last shall be first, and the first last. So, where is the problem?

Ah, yes, the problem with this text is that Luke contrasts the unrighteous, but forgiven Tax Collector with the self-righteous, but unforgiven, Pharisee. How often do we use the Pharisee as the example of the self-righteous, stuffed shirt, sort? Even with the best of intentions, we can slip into such usage, when in fact, despite the animus seemingly present in the gospels, the Pharisees were devout, broadminded, faithful, tithers even (who wouldn’t want a few of those in a church?). But, by focusing our attention on the “Pharisee,” as a member of a religious party, we might miss something much more important. As Ron Allen and Clark Williamson note in their lectionary commentary, this passage uncovers an attitude that is potentially present in all of us, “the ease with which we turn the love of God into self-adulation, the pride we take in our humility” (Williamson and Allen, Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, WJK, 2004, p. 243). The parable then confronts us with an attitude that marks many of us, in which we turn God’s unconditional love into “a condition apart from which God is not free to love, a condition that, presumably, we have met but others have not.” The Tax-Collector, on the other hand, had no such allusions that he was the beneficiary of God’s unconditional love, and therefore he didn’t take it for granted or assume that he was on the inside already. Jesus commends him for his willingness to honestly pour out his heart before God, making himself more receptive to God’s unconditional love. May such be true for each of us.

Republished from [D]mergent

There's Still Hope -- A Lectionary Meditation

Hosea 1:2-10


Colossians 2:6-15

Luke 11:1-13

There’s Still Hope

Persistence – that is the message of Jesus’ parable in Luke 11. Just after teaching the disciples an abridged form of what we know as the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus tells a parable about a man who wakes up his neighbor at midnight so he can feed a friend who has dropped by unexpectedly – in the middle of the night – and is now hungry. In that culture, if someone drops by, you feed them, but what do you do when the cupboard is bare? You go knock on your neighbor’s door – sort of like Sheldon knocking on Leonard’s or Penny’s door (Big Bang Theory). The neighbor might not get up and help out from friendship, but if you knock long enough, well then perhaps the neighbor will give in, get up, and get the bread. Of course, God isn’t like that neighbor who has to be pestered into helping.

One of the stanzas of the Lord’s Prayer speaks of forgiveness – something that we often approach God desiring. The concern that is present in the minds of many is whether God will be receptive, and what that will require of us. In the parable, the suggestion is – if we ask, it will be given to us – so there is still hope.

Hope is something that appears absent from the Hosea passage. It’s the 8th century, Jehu is on the throne of Israel, and the situation is not good. The people of Israel have been playing the whore and have flirted with the gods of their neighbors, choosing to reject God’s ways. So, God sends another prophet into their midst – Hosea – and God decides to illustrate the troubles Israel faces by directing Hosea to marry a prostitute. Being the obedient one that he is, Hosea marries Gomer and with her he has three children (though since she is a prostitute you can never be sure that the children are his). Each child has a name that reflects God’s displeasure with the northern kingdom of Israel. The first is Jezreel, a son whose name reflects God’s decision to take the kingdom of Israel at the valley of Jezreel. The second child is a daughter named Lo-Rahama, whose name suggests that there will be no pity or forgiveness for Israel (though God will forgive Judah – at least for now). Finally, there is a son, Lo-Ammi, whose name signifies God’s judgment — “You are not my people, and I am not your God.”

The Hosea passage is so full of hopelessness and judgment. God has decided that enough is enough. Having acted as a prostitute, the nation has followed after other gods and lords, and so God will allow them to suffer the consequence. Having had enough, God is casting them off on their own. Only the prophet offers a sliver of hope in verse ten. We hear this word of restoration, this promise that Israel will be like the sand of the sea – too many to count – and though once called “Not My People,” now they will be called “Children of God.” The hope lies in the restoration of the whole people, as Judah and Israel are gathered together, taking possession of the land once more under one head (vs. 11). There is hope yes, but difficult times remain. Perhaps then the key is in Jesus’ parable – be persistent – persevere – hold on to the one who gives good things to God’s children.

The Colossian passage draws everything together. It is a call for the children of God to hold fast to Christ, in whom we are to be rooted and built up. There is a warning here – reminiscent of the word to/through Hosea. Be careful about whom you listen to – philosophy, empty deceit, human tradition. You can see from this list that the author of this letter is writing to Gentile Christians who are struggling to make sense of the differences between the gospel and the theologies of those outside the faith. Instead of attending to these other voices, listen for Christ. Listen to him because it is in him that the fullness of deity dwells bodily, and it is he who reigns over all rule and authority. Again we see the echoes of Hosea – there is hope, but you must put your trust in God who is revealed in Christ.

In Christ, we are circumcised spiritually, putting off the flesh – the way of the world. It is in baptism that we identify ourselves with Christ, our sins and trespasses being buried with him, and then raised again, the power of death no longer hanging over us, as we embrace God’s purpose through faith. In Christ, the legal record that has hung over our heads is cleared, having been nailed to the cross.

What do we make of this message? Especially we who take a more progressive view of God and God’s relationship with creation? We may be troubled with Hosea’s use of his marriage as prophetic example – and God’s command that he do so. We may like the promise that if we ask God, then God will respond because God has to be a better parent than any human parent – but does that mean that God is like a vending machine, giving us whatever we want without any discernment? And then there is Colossians, which could be taken in an anti-Jewish way.

But however you deal with the particulars, there is a promise here, a promise that there is hope of reconciliation and restoration. God is good and faithful and will make a way for us to experience a restored relationship with God and creation. Central to the promise is the statement that in Christ the legal slate is wiped clean. It may be that we must first repent – turning from the way of “whoredom.” In another passage from Luke, we get the idea that repentance is involved in this process (Luke 17:1-4). Repentance, of course, is not groveling before God, grinding our knees into the gravel. Instead, it is a decision to walk faithfully with the God who offers us peace and reconciliation. It is a decision to live differently – even if we stumble and require forgiveness time after time. Still, there is that word of hope!

Reposted from:  [D]mergent -- a new Disciples oriented blog, for which I write this weekly reflection

Invictus -- Video Review

It is hard to believe that has been twenty years since Nelson Mandela was released from his long imprisonment on Robben Island, an event that would transform the nation of South Africa.  Not too long afterward, Mandela was elected President of the nation and faced the difficulty of uniting a very divided nation.  Whites feared retribution and loss of property and businesses that had been established during the long years of government directed Apartheid policies.  Blacks were angry at being denied their rights for so long, angry at having been imprisoned for their efforts to free themselves from bondage to a white minority government.

Clint Eastwood's movie, now out on DVD, Invictus, tells the story of Mandela's decision to use a rugby team's participation in a South Africa hosted World Cup Championship to unite the nation.  The movie, which stars Morgan Freeman as Mandela and Matt Damon as Springbok captain Francois Pienaar, portrays Mandela as being intent on bringing together a nation, understanding that the national rugby team, the Springboks were beloved by the Afrikaners, but hated by Blacks who saw them as poster children of apartheid.  It's revealed in the movie that Mandela, while on Robben Island, would root for whoever was playing against the Springboks, because this got under the skin of his guards.  More broadly, black South Africans as a whole rooted for whoever played against the Springboks as a sign of their protest against apartheid. 

According to the movie, Mandela believed that if the Afrikaners understood that they wouldn't lose their beloved team and that Blacks could embrace it, then there would be the first step toward reconciliation.  Pienaar, at least as portrayed in the movie, came from a middle-class Afrikaner family that detested the new president, in large part out of fear of what might happen.  Pienaar has his view of the world changed when the President invites him to tea.  They talk briefly about rugby, but the focus is on leadership.  After the meeting Pienaar realizes that Mandela not only wants the team to win the World Cup, but that he has been charged with helping lead a nation toward unity.

I realize that with any movie such as this there is artistic license and created dialog.  We don't know what exactly went through the minds of the primary actors, but we're helped to understand the process by which reconciliation was attempted, and that a rugby game, which was described in the movie as "a hooligans game played by gentlemen" could be the vehicle.

Freeman is masterful as Mandela, while Damon plays Pienaar with an understated dignity.  Both deserve their accolades.  But what struck me, besides this interplay between sports captain and president, was the interplay within Mandela's body guards.  Mandela brought with him the body guards that had protected him prior to his election, but now that he is president, the head of this unit realizes that he needs more staff, and receives that help in the form of several white police officers, men who had protected the previous president.  These officers represented all that the men in this unity hated about apartheid, but as the movie progresses these men come together and not only form a solid unit, but actually begin to develop a friendship.

The title of the movie, Invictus, stems from a Victorian poem written by William Henley, which according to the movie, sustained Mandela while in prison.  Shortly before the final championship match, Mandela gives Pienaar a hand written copy of the poem as an inspiration.  The last stanza of the poem is key:

It matters not how strait the gait, 

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Pienaar hears this as a call to be the master of his own fate, even as Mandela had been of his.

As for the movie itself, it is well acted, well written, and tells an important story that many of us have let creep into the recesses of our minds.  What the movie does for us is provide an excellent opportunity to consider the question of reconciliation and forgiveness when the alienation is at its greatest.  We're reminded that this is not easy, nor that it comes quickly.  And, sometimes you need symbolic opportunities to come together to build relationships, such as a rugby match.   It is, a message whose time has come!  

Table Grace -- A Sermon

Luke 7:36-50

H.L. Mencken described a Puritan as a "person with a haunting fear that someone, somewhere is happy."1 Unfortunately that description could apply to many Christian communities. Churches are often places of discord, abuse, and fountains of hate, even though this stands in contrast to Jesus’s message of grace, love and forgiveness. This attitude is often enabled by a legalism that is contrary to Jesus’ message of freedom, healing, and acceptance.

Unfortunately, this reality has led large numbers of people to conclude that the church of Jesus Christ is the last place to go if you’re looking for a word of hope or happiness. The word on the street is that churches are places of ostracism, exclusion, and condemnation, where no one dares to laugh, lest they offend God and their neighbor. I hope that’s not true here, but that’s the reputation we must deal with!

1. AN INVITATION TO DINNER

This reputation of legalism and exclusiveness isn’t new. You see it on display in the attitudes of Simon the Pharisee and his friends, who are sharing a meal with Jesus, as they responded to a woman who enters their meeting without an invitation. But, not only wasn’t she on the guest list, but she was a known sinner; a woman who lived across the tracks and down the back alley. It’s possible that some of the people in that room knew her by more than reputation, but they would never admit to it. Yes, whatever it was that she had done in life, she now lived as an outcast. She was a persona non grata – a person without grace.

When she entered the room, she went over to where Jesus lay at table and knelt before him. As she knelt down, she began to weep uncontrollably, bathing his feet with her tears. Then, perhaps unconsciously, she unloosened her hair, something no woman did in polite company, and began to dry his feet with her hair. Finally she began to kiss his feet and anoint them with the costly perfume she had brought with her in an alabaster jar. These actions, not just those of the woman, but those of Jesus as well, scandalized Simon. How could Jesus, he wondered out loud, let this sinner, this unclean person, touch him like that? It was unseemly, even obscene. Here, he was supposedly a prophet of God, allowing himself to be touched by an unclean woman. Surely no self-respecting prophet would let such a thing happen.

2. THE STORY

Simon’s outburst, led to a brief story. Jesus responded to Simon by telling him a parable about two debtors. One man had been five-hundred denarii, which was a lot of money, and the other had received fifty denarii. Now, fifty is quite a bit of money – maybe two months’ salary, but it’s nothing in comparison to the 500, which might be equal to a couple of year’s salary. When it came time to repay the debt, neither of these borrowers could repay, and so the lender forgave the debts rather than casting the men into debtors’ prison. Then, Jesus asked Simon: "Which of them will love him more?" With reluctance Simon admitted that it was the one who owed the most who loved the most.

Yes the woman was a sinner, but so was Simon. The only difference was that she recognized this fact, perhaps because her sins might have been more obvious. So, it would seem that since she had been forgiven more, she loved more. Simon, believing he was sin-free and pious, had little use for the woman or forgiveness. And therefore, unlike her, he had no need to show gratitude to God or anyone else.

The woman’s actions seemed scandalous, but not only were they acts of gratitude, they contrasted strongly with the actions or lack thereof of Simon. You see, Simon had invited Jesus to dinner, but he failed to act as a proper host. That’s because a proper host greets the guest with a kiss and anoints with oil. The host also makes sure that the guest’s feet are washed. Simon didn’t do any of this for Jesus, but this “sinful” woman did what Simon refused to do.

You see, Simon’s problem was that, like us, he had different categories of sin. So, he concluded that whatever sins he might have committed, they were nothing compared to the sins of this woman. She was impure, perhaps even a woman of ill repute. But Jesus responded to his unspoken sentiment by saying: "those who are forgiven little, love little" (vs. 47).

3. THE TABLE OF GRACE

Well, I’ve been in the church all my life, and I’ve seen the “good, the bad, and the ugly” in the church. I’ve seen families disown their children in the name of God, and I’ve heard Christian leaders utter racial slurs and speak hatefully of others. I’ve seen churches split over such little things as the color of the carpet or the doors. I wish I could say that I wasn’t part of the problem, but I know I’m as guilty as anyone else. Certainly, God is weeping at seeing us fight, gossip, and defaming others. Perhaps we’ve not yet understood the message of grace. Perhaps we’ve not understood the depths of our own sinfulness, and the promise of forgiveness. And, so because we think we have little to be forgiven of, we show very little love to others, especially those who are different from us.

As we come to the Table of the Lord this morning, it’s appropriate to confess to God that we are sinners in need of forgiveness and grace. It’s also important to remember that the table isn’t just for the saints. It’s also for sinners. If this isn’t true, then none of us would have the right to come to the table.

The good news is that the Table of the Lord is truly a place where sinners gather to receive a word of grace and comfort. Bread and Cup are signs of Jesus' body and blood, which beckon us forward so we can find peace, hope, and joy. This is a table of grace that’s open to anyone who recognizes the need for that grace. It doesn't matter what you’re wearing or how you look or even how much money you make. In welcoming both the woman and Simon, Jesus welcomes all of us into his family.

It may sometimes seem like we’ve heard this message of forgiveness one too many times. Shouldn’t we have already gotten the message, so that we can move onto bigger and better things? Simon’s response to this woman, who entered his home without an invitation, reminds us that we can never hear this message too often. Indeed, it is this message of forgiveness and grace that will allow us to live out our core value of acceptance. As a church we’re able to accept others, because we’ve already been accepted by God.

This is a message that requires more from us than mere assent. It is, as William Willimon writes:

For Jesus, forgiveness is not some doctrine to be believed; rather, it is a feast to be received, a party to which the outcasts are invited, a gift to be received with empty hands. So Jesus not only tells a parable at the table, he becomes a parable, a sign to us of what God is up to in the world. In Jesus, God is busy inviting the whole world to the table.2

The invitation has been given to everyone who will hear and receive it: Come to the table and enjoy the bounteous grace of God, for your sins are forgiven, and you have been saved. Go in peace.

1. Quoted in Philip Yancey, What's So Amazing about Grace? (Zondervan, 1997), 29
2. William Willimon, Pulpit Resource, 29 (April, May, June 2001): 53. 

Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
Troy, MI
Third Sunday after Pentecost
June 13, 2010

Father Fiction -- Review

FATHER FICTION: Chapters for a Fatherless Generation. Donald Miller. New York: Howard Books, 2010. 198 pages.

Does a child need a father to successfully grow up? Especially if that child is a boy? These are the kinds of questions that Donald Miller wrestles with in Father Fiction, which was earlier published under the title: To Own a Dragon (NavPress, 2006), with John MacMurray listed as co-author. In both editions of the book, Miller is the best-selling author of Blue Like Jazz and is known for having offered a prayer at the 2008 Democratic National Convention, tells his own story of growing up without a father. His own father left while he was a toddler and he was raised by his mother. Although he praises the efforts of his mother to support and guide his life, he grew up feeling that something ways missing in his life. There were those who served as substitutes, most especially John MacMurray, a photographer and leader in his church, with whose family Miller lived for a time as a young adult.

Miller writes for men who like himself have not had a father’s presence and have struggled with issues of manhood, career, and spirituality. He has done well in life, but believes that the absence of a father in his life was a difficult obstacle to overcome – even with the help of substitutes. While he focuses on the primary value of a father’s presence in one’s life, his own leadership in developing mentoring programs comes from his recognition that if a father is not present then there need to be other ways for a boy to find guidance. He doesn’t discount the ability of women to raise young men, but he also believes that a male presence is essential.

Every reader takes up a book from a certain vantage point, especially a book like this, which is part memoir and part advocacy. I read the book from the perspective of one whose father was largely absent, but full absence didn’t occur until I was in high school. Although I was a sophomore in high school when my father left the family, his departure wasn’t especially traumatic because my father was not a good role model. He could be verbally abusive – mostly in the sense of belittling my abilities and aspirations, and beyond that wasn’t all that interested in my life. I was fortunate, however, to find mentors and role models in other places – neighbor dads, coaches, and teachers. Would I have preferred a stronger father-son relationship? By all means. Indeed, that sense of loss has led me to overcompensate with my own son, leading to a bit too much over parenting.

One of the questions that Miller raises concerns the necessity of a father’s presence. Because his own experience was absence, he doesn’t speak directly to those cases when a father’s presence is detrimental to the life and psyche of a young man. With his interest being in the benefits of a father’s presence, he notes the statistics that suggest the value of a male presence in the life of a young man. For instance, 70% of prison inmates are men, and 85% of these men grew up in fatherless homes. Of course, this absence can be overcome, but perhaps it’s not an easy life course.

Miller’s book is composed of seventeen brief chapters. The style is open, vulnerable, and quite readable. Miller seems to be a born writer, even though by his own confession he never read a book completely through until he had reached the age of twenty. Now in his late 30s, he has become a noted author, lecturer, and speaker, all without the benefit of a college education.

Miller approaches his topic with a strong sense of concern for men who have grown up without a male presence. He opens with a discussion of God as Father, a topic that is fraught with danger. He doesn’t develop this theologically, but seeks to find in this image an anchor for his life. He writes of a conversation with John MacMurray, the man who mentored him spiritually and emotionally. He looked to MacMurry, especially in MacMurray’s relationship with his wife and children, for guidance as to how to live as a man. In the course of a conversation about fathers, MacMurray speaks of God as father, and Miller writes in response:

And though some of us grow up without biological fathers, none of us grows up without our actual Father. That is, if we have skin, if we have a heart that is beating and can touch and feel, then all this is because God has decided it would be so, because he wanted to include us in the story. (P. 49).

In this reflection, Miller gets to the heart of the matter, the question of belonging. Not having a relationship with his biological father, he didn’t know who he was or where he belonged. He seemed to find this in the idea that God was his true father.

This discovery, that God was his actual father and thus he belonged to a family, was a starting point, but there needed to be more definition. He needed to have an understanding of this God who was his father, and thus he had to wrestle with his spirituality. He had to overcome his own embrace of a distant God, so as to be open to a divine father who was truly present in his life. Additionally, from the Lord’s Prayer he derived the sense that God will provide, and thus one can trust God. Trust, however, was an issue that he struggled with. He distrusted authority, especially male authority. He notes that he had not, until he met MacMurray, been able to connect authority and love.

One of the issues that fatherless men deal with is their sense of manhood, and Miller is no exception. He went looking for help, even going to Promise Keepers, but he found no help in their macho sports focused efforts. He liked the emphasis on overcoming racial divisions, but as he says, he was never much into obeying rules, and Promise Keepers was big on rules. He struggled with the definition of manhood, until he came to the conclusion that being a man involved one thing – a penis. Everything else was an adjective. But recognizing that fact is only the beginning of the journey. From there one must wrestle with the kind of man one seeks to become. Thus, one must wrestle with decision making, friendship (you become, he says, like the people you hang around with), dating, sex, integrity, education, and one’s work ethic. There is in this book a sense, which at times reflects his evangelical context, that men need to grow up and embrace their manhood. But, it doesn’t happen by going into a stadium and shouting or going out into the woods and shouting around a campfire. It happens as men wrestle with their own identity with God, and then finding in other men, especially fathers, mentors for the way forward. The way forward, however, doesn’t involve self-pity. Self pity leads only to annoyance and downward mobility.

Miller writes a book that will be encouraging and helpful to men, whether they are young men growing up without a father and seeking a sense of purpose for life or fathers seeking to understand their own role in the lives of their children (especially the lives of their sons). It is also a book to be read by men who sense the call to mentor fatherless young men and boys. Finally, it is a word to men who need to let go of resentments. In a final chapter entitled “pardon” he describes meeting his father for the first time in years and finding it possible to forgive. Finally, however, he found wholeness in his embrace of the idea that God was fathering him. The divine Father, he writes, does not abandon us. Ultimately, though, his hope for fatherless men is that rather than becoming “arrogant victims,” they can become “wounded healers.” Whether one agrees with all that he writes, this is a book that should prove helpful to fatherless men, and to fathers who seek to be true to their calling to share in the lives of their children.

What is it? (Manna)

When the Israelites left Egypt to wander the wilderness while God made a nation out of them they were afraid and complained that they would die of starvation. So Moses talked to God about it and The Father did an amazing thing that fed them all the years they wondered in the dessert. He made Manna. It was such strange stuff that they named it "What is it?" (In Hebrew: Manna.) Each morning when they awoke it would be lying all over the ground. The rules were that they were only to gather enough to eat for one day with one exception...the day before the Sabbath they were to gather enough for 2 days. The leftovers ( with the exception of the 6th day!) would spoil and if they ate it and they would become very ill. Some died from this.

I have often wondered what this stuff looked like?...tasted and felt like. It was so important to them that they were to keep some in the Ark of the Covenant (or Promise) which eventually ended up in the Temple and Contained the Very Presence of God. (ARK: You know that thing Indiana Jones made famous again).

All of this is leading up to my point: A number of years ago I had a very significant trauma at the hands of someone I really trusted and it shook my life to the very core. Healing took a long time and here is the thing I learned that gave me my life back: Forgiveness is like manna...you must harvest it each day! On occasion it will last for 2 days but sure enough, if you eat it old, it will make you ill. I have pondered this for years now..it is like Jesus' love for us. It is such a foreign thing to us that we ask "What is it?" How could someone die (be murdered in the most brutal way imaginable and not be bitter about it?) for me when I am soooo unworthy? There is absolutely nothing else like it on the planet...but then that IS the point. God IS Love.