I recently just completed “The Secret Message of Jesus,” by Brian McLaren. This is supposed to be the best introduction to the thinking of McLaren, who himself is supposed to be a controversial leader of the “emergent” church. I didn’t find anything particularly controversial in this book, at least from my perspective. In fact, I found it to be a very refreshing and beautiful summary of the Christian faith.
Basically, this book is a summary of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. McLaren seems especially good at translating ancient ideas into contemporary ones. For instance, he emphasizes that the “good news” most centrally involves the idea that the kingdom of God is at hand (right now and in our midst). McLaren translates the idea of “eternal life” as “an extraordinary life to the full centered in a relationship with God.” If given a brief opportunity to summarize Jesus’ teaching, McLaren says:
“Everyone needs to rethink their lives as individuals, and we need to rethink our direction as a culture and imagine an unimagined future for our world. . . Because of the Kingdom of God is here. You can count on this.”
Maybe my favorite section of the book is when McLaren seeks to translate the idea of the “kingdom” of God into modern language. This is helpful to me because the “kingdom” is emphasized so much in the Gospels, but it just doesn’t hit the mark for me. Here are some of the words McLaren uses: The dream of God (e.g., in rending “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” McLaren translates “May all your dreams for your creation come true”), the revolution of God (i.e., with the Gospel involving the invitation for people to join God’s revolutionary movement of change), the party of God, and the dance of God.
As a part of this, McLaren includes a story that I love. I’ll quote it in full below:
“My friend Tony Campolo tells a true story that also serves as a great parable. . . He was in another time zone and couldn’t sleep, so well after midnight he wandered down to a doughnut shop where, it turned out, local hookers also came at the end of a night of turning tricks. There, he overheard a conversation between two of them. One, named Agnes, said, ‘You know what? Tomorrow’s my birthday. I’m gonna be thirty-nine.’ Her friend snapped back, ‘So what d’ya want from me? A birthday party? Huh? You want me to get a cake and sing happy birthday to you?’ The first woman replied, ‘Aw, come on, why do you have to be so mean? Why do you have to put me down? I’m just sayin’ it’s my birthday. I don’t want anything from you. I mean, why should I have a birthday party? I’ve never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?’ When they left, Tony got an idea. He asked the shop owner if Agnes came in every night, and when he replied in the affirmative, Tony invited him into a surprise party conspiracy. The shop owner’s wife even got involved. Together they arranged for a cake, candles, and typical party decorations for Agnes, who was, to Tony, a complete stranger. The next night when she came in, they shouted, ‘Surprise!’ – and Agnes couldn’t believe her eyes. The doughnut shop patrons sang, and she began to cry so hard she could barely blow out the candles. When the time came to cut the cake, she asked if they’d mind if she didn’t cut it, if she could bring it home – just to keep it for a while and savor the moment. So she left, carrying her cake like a treasure. Tony led the guests in a prayer for Agnes, after which the shop owner told Tony he didn’t realize Tony was a preacher. He asked what kind of church Tony came from, and Tony replied, ‘I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning.’ The shop owner couldn’t believe him. ‘No you don’t. There ain’t no church like that. If there was, I’d join it. Yep, I’d join a church like that.’”
Much of this book is about Jesus’ “secret message,” emphasizing that “the new kingdom – unlike its evil counterparts – doesn’t force itself where it is not wanted and welcomed. . . for all its power and reality, it comes subtly, gently, and secretly.” After all, “[people] can be invited, attracted, intrigued, enticed, and challenged – but not forced.” This message is displayed in radical acts like just mentioned as well as “visiting hospitals, giving out flowers, planting gardens, fixing houses for elderly or disabled people, cleaning homes, fixing cars, babysitting for single parents, building playgrounds, cleaning up trashy neighborhoods or streams or roadsides. . .”
I love this quote: “What if the real difference is made in the world not by us preachers but by those who endure our preaching, those who quietly live out the secret message of the kingdom of God in their daily, workaday lives in the laboratory, classroom, office, cockpit, parliament, kitchen, market, factory, and neighborhood?”
And, this one, too: “Faith that counts. . . is not the absence of doubt; it’s the presence of action.”
Finally, McLaren includes a couple of quotes that really identify the kind of longing I often experience.
“There is within us – in even the blithest, most lighthearted among us – a fundamental dis-ease. . . This desire lies in the marrow of our bones and deep in the regions of our soul. All great literature, poetry, art, philosophy, psychology, and religion tries to name and analyze this longing. We are seldom in direct touch with it, and indeed the modern world seems set on preventing us from getting in touch with it by covering it with. . . entertainments, obsessions, and distractions of every sort. But the longing is there, built into us like a jack-in-the-box that presses for release. . . Whether we realize it or not, simply to be human is to long for release from mundane existence with its confining walls of finitude and mortality. The good news. . . is that that longing can be fulfilled.” (Huston Smith)
“We do not want to merely see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words – to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. . . At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we will get in.” (C. S. Lewis)