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Each Wednesday in What Memes Mean, Kirk Bozeman questions the significance, humor, and subtexts of viral videos, memes, and other Internet fads.

We are all victims, generators, and products of perspective. We bring a host of preconceived notions and assumed truths to all of life, including into our relationships with others — ideas about ourselves, people, and the world that affect the way we view and treat each other. This is not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just an unavoidable thing. We can’t function in reality without some type of a priori, it’s impossible to do. But whether our assumption is positive or negative, good or bad, we’re all stuck in skin and confined to conjecture, doing the best we can to try to understand each other, hopefully well enough to feel connected to someone somewhere and/or “just get by.”

Maybe it’s not as dramatic as all that (maybe), but we certainly all find ourselves feeling misunderstood quite often. It’s here that a recent meme picks up, the one that swept social media and inundated your Facebook and Twitter timelines in the past couple of weeks, the one with the black background and one square picture per “what” to elucidate the assumptions of others (and, briefly, yourself)…

What my friends think I do…

What my mom thinks I do…

What I think I do…

What society thinks I do…

What I really do…

Everyone seemed to find themselves in this meme. It evolved quickly and relentlessly. Most versions were specifically concerned with vocation, one of the main ways adults define themselves. There are now jpegs lamenting the (evidently) ill-understood lives of photographers, seminary students, professional artists, librarians, musicians, and countless other fields. Generally they all seem to say: “My friends think I party, my parents think I play, society thinks I’m weird, I think I’m cool, but I really just sit at a desk behind a computer all day.”

But, the “what I really do” meme (like most of our assumptions of misunderstanding) got a little whiny. Do your friends or parents really not understand you? Do they, perhaps, understand you a little better than you’d like? Is their criticism or commentary something you avoid by tacking together gimmicky joke posts in MS Paint instead of taking it, at the very least, into consideration? Does society, honestly, have at least some point in its assumptions and preconceptions of you, something you should at least give ear to and analyze for yourself? This is the problem of living in a world of conjecture — we fall victim to our own conjectures as well — perhaps our assumptions that we are not understood by others are not entirely true. Each of us is a friend, a family member, and a member of society — we are each in the jpeg, not just chuckling at it.

But feelings of misunderstanding, though they should be analyzed, are often legitimate. The biblical promise that we will “know even as we are fully known” has always resounded deeply with me, and this meme points to the fact that it resounds deeply in all of us. We feel misunderstood, we deeply desire to be “known,” and we desperately want to “know.” This is one of the problems of the Fall — this disconnect with others and the world — and only something that the coming Kingdom of the all-knowing God can fix .

Christ and Pop Culture

There have been a lot of boycotts encouraged by Christians of various stripes whether it be Disney World or Abercrombie and Fitch or what have you. Thus Joe Carter of the Gospel Coalition sets out to answer whether this is something Christians should engage in or not.

Here is an excerpt–one where Carter happens to quote our very own Alan Noble:

To clarify, the term boycott here refers to the act of refusing to use, buy, or deal with a business as an expression of protest or as a means of economic coercion. The concern, for Christians, should be with the coercion part. Simply refusing to participate in an economic transaction with an individual or company is not a boycott. Our choosing not to spend money on lottery tickets is a values-based economic decision, but it is not a form of coercion. As Alan Noble recently said, “Whether it is through votes or dollars, coercing someone to accept our position is nihilistic: it suggests that real change—change of heart and mind—is impossible, or unlikely, and so the safest bet is to make it profitable to adopt our beliefs.”

Forcing someone to adopt our beliefs—whether by violence or economic threat—is a questionable use of our economic power. “Nonviolent resistance,” Tinder writes in his book Political Thinking, “is a way of using power and is thoroughly political.” Tinder’s claim brings to mind the claim of the brilliant Prussian strategist Carl von Clausewitz: “War is nothing but a continuation of politics with the admixture of other means.” Nonviolent resistance may sometimes be a legitimate political act. But by mixing in the coercive tactic of boycotts we may be turning away from righteousness toward an unjust form of economic warfare.

If you haven’t done so already, be sure to check out Alan’s feature, Two Can Play at That: What Komen can Teach us about Boycotts.

Christ and Pop Culture

Each week in Eat Your Vegetables, Jonathan Sircy shares the benefit and appeal of some of the culture’s more inaccessible or intimidating artifacts.

Cultural Vegetable of the Week: High Noon (dir. Fred Zinnemann; 1952)
Vegetable Equivalent: Any vegetable that must be eaten on its own
Nutritional Value: How to diagnose your friends and enemies during a crisis
Recommended Serving Size: At home in one sitting after a tough day at your job

“If you don’t know, I can’t tell you.” – Oft-repeated phrase in High Noon

This movie is a political litmus test. Leftists initially lauded the film as an allegory of the cowardly HUAC proceedings. In this reading, Will Kane (Gary Cooper) represents the one brave man willing to stand up to the communist witch-hunt committee. But the film has been equally praised by conservatives. The movie privileges law, order, and private property and condemns the citizens for not being willing to take a stand against evil or taking true stock of what their inaction will cost them.

The film argues that rhetorical persuasion won’t do any good if trouble’s already coming. By then, it’s too late for words. When people ask why, they get the simple response that no amount of words would ever convince them. You either know it or you don’t. This is a particularly interesting view of crisis situations. According to this logic, the most important decisions have been made during prosperous times. If you wait until a disaster threatens to make a decision, you’ve already chosen poorly.

But there’s something else the movie won’t tell, something no one dares say out loud: that Will Kane hasn’t been too good of a sheriff lately.

Remember that Kane’s last name is a homophone of Cain, the man who according to the Bible introduced murder into the world. Cain received a brand from God for his sin and was banished to walk the earth. It’s no accident that character after character refers to Will by his last name. His justice is one based on capital punishment. By taking on the burden of administering justice, Will expiates the city’s evil, leaving the town with quiet streets and family-suitable neighborhoods.

In short, Kane is a conflicted figure. He fights for good, but his position in the community is always tenuous. The movie gives us signs that he’s been slipping lately.

First, there’s his marriage to the Quaker, Amy (Grace Kelly). How could a professional lawman ever think it was a good idea to marry a pacifist? The implicit answer is that Will is a pacifist at heart. He recognizes the brutal nature of his work and wants a reprieve.

Second, there’s his failure to train a replacement. Lloyd Bridges gives a terrific performance as the adolescent-minded Harvey Pell, Kane’s second in command. While Harvey aims to walk in Kane’s footsteps, he’s too immature and seems driven by power and glamour rather than a devotion to law and order. Kane apparently hasn’t taken the time to notice that Harvey is conspiring with his old flame Helen Ramirez. Neither does he seem to feel responsible for training such a derelict assistant, one that isn’t ready to take the position from him when he retires or dies. Kane feels that Harvey betrayed him, but Kane is to blame for not better tending his legacy. He couldn’t be sheriff forever. Why didn’t he groom a better successor?

Third, there’s Kane’s dalliance with the former girlfriend of a convicted felon. Helen (Katy Jurado) is perhaps the shrewdest person in the film. She knows the people around her, often better than they know themselves. She is attractive and honest. But she also consorted with a known felon. This could not have helped Kane’s respectability in the town.

Fourth, and perhaps most profoundly, there’s Kane’s decision not to attend church very often, the one place that inculcates the virtues his profession rests upon. It is here that Kane is most an outsider. He has to stop an in-progress service to request help. His closest friend is inside the church, yet Kane finds out he doesn’t know the man at all. As a result, Kane finds no help at the one place he would expect it most. His arguments and those of his supporters won’t do any good, because the time for such persuasion should have been happening in services like that one over the past three or four years.

In a late scene, Kane walks across a back stretch of road and runs into some kids. Three of the kids are chasing another boy. They all have guns and yell “Bang!” at each other. The separated boy hears the cry, “You’re dead, Kane!” The boys then look up and freeze when they see Kane before quickly running away. When the children have internalized a particular viewpoint, the larger cultural debate is already over. The movie’s central tragedy is not that Kane can’t convince anyone to come help him. It’s that he has to discover — much to his own chagrin — that everyone has already decided not to help him.

All this is not to obviate the townspeople of responsibility. They’ll have to clean up the bodies Will and Amy have killed.

But this film is poignant because Kane’s recent poor performance deserves a lion’s share of the blame. And if you didn’t know that, I don’t know what else I can tell you.

Christ and Pop Culture

The movie adaptation for Donald Miller’s popular memoir Blue Like Jazz has been a long time coming. Well known musical artist Steve Taylor has been hard at work on the adaptation for several years. After much fund-raising, and even a book that grew out of the process of converting Miller’s life into a watchable movie, a trailer finally released a few months back.

Then, yesterday, Donald Miller posted on Twitter that we could expect some “big news” about his movie. Well the news is out: it looks like Blue Like Jazz will be premiering at SXSW on Tuesday, March 13th.

The only question that remains: is Miller’s memoir going to work as a movie? We’ll find out in a few weeks.

What do you think?

Christ and Pop Culture

Every Friday in Sacred Space, Brad Williams explores the place of popular culture in the local church.

What does that have to do with the local church? Facebook can help you build relationships with people that you might only have the occasion to see on Sunday mornings. Imagine you are new to a community, and you begin to attend a local church. They have a community group or a Sunday School class that you have enjoyed attending, but you don’t really ‘know’ those folks who are attending. So why not send out a quick Facebook friend invite? Something like, “Hey Dave. This is Brad. I’ve been attending your Sunday School class and would like to be Facebook friends.” I’m sure they’d accept. Then you can peruse their family photos and their status updates.  In that regard, it can work very much as a church directory would, only in a more personal way. Plus, having your pastor or community group leader as a Facebook friend may help us think a little before we post a rash ‘status update’.

I’m a pastor, and I’m on Facebook. Much of what I do in the office involves the use of a computer. I use the computer for research, for making outlines, and for writing. While I’m in the office, I pretty much keep Facebook open all the time. I check the status updates of my church family. I can find out who is having surgery, who is having a hard time, and who is celebrating one thing or another. Plus, they can message me if they have a question or need to talk. I get messages almost daily. It helps me connect and get to know my friends and church family better.

Yes, Facebook can be abused just like anything else. But I think that it can also be used wisely by us to help us build relationships inside our church fellowship. So go ahead, ‘befriend’ your pastor. You will probably find out that he’s actually a fairly normal person, who also has a birthday, and more than just a guy who pontificates on Sunday mornings.

Hopefully, he’ll quit sending you Farmville requests if you ask him to, and if he sends you a request to join his Mafia, tell him you are already in it.

Christ and Pop Culture

Mars Hill is taking a public hit on the chin for its handling of public discipline toward a member named Andrew:

Then he made a mistake that found him cast out: He cheated on his fiancee with a community college classmate. The fury over Andrew’s experience—and his decision to publicize the church’s internal disciplinary procedures—has led to accusations by other Christians that one of the most powerful evangelical voices in the country, Mars Hill pastor Mark Driscoll, employs a cultlike leadership style. Now, for the first time, Mars Hill is speaking out in response to its former member’s charges.

…

Now, as even fellow evangelical Christians express concern about how Andrew was shunned, the church must confront questions about whether its disciplinary practices are misunderstood and biblical, or disturbingly controlling. Is Mars Hill’s PR drama a lesson in how even the best institutions will have disgruntled critics, or a case of an increasingly powerful organization abusing its members’ trust?

I believe that Andrew needed to be held accountable, and we all must realize that when we hear Andrew’s side, we are only getting one side. Still, I have at least two major concerns as I follow this story that is pertinent to my church, which seeks to practice church discipline in a Biblical way with the aim being restoration.

In the Slate piece, Ruth Graham writes:

As a church grows from a tight-knit community to a group of thousands, discipline becomes more difficult. That’s why churches like Mars Hill encourage participation in small groups, in which members can be accountable to one another in their personal struggles. Moral development, as old-fashioned as that term may sound, can be a beautiful, transformative part of the work of the church.

…

The question that Mars Hill members must confront is whether the atmosphere at their church is one of respect or shame. Dean says that the church would welcome reconciliation with Andrew, but Mars Hill is not backing down from its strict definition of repentance. The unspoken implication seems to be that Mars Hill itself has done nothing it needs to repent from.

First, I have to wonder if a ‘mega-church’ can practice discipline very effectively. The smaller the church, the more personal discipline can be, and the elders can have a better knowledge of the situation. (The elders of Mars Hill admitted as much.)

Secondly, I fear that Driscoll’s bravado has led to the church being perceived as over-bearing in general, which colors this specific case of church discipline as more MMA smack down than gentle restoration of a sinning member.

This case saddens me and at the same time encourages me. It saddens me because it puts out the wrong message about discipline, but it has encouraged me to examine my own church to be certain that every issue of accountability is handled with the wisdom and care the Bible demands.

Christ and Pop Culture

“Did you hear what Driscoll said?”

I have come to hate that question, largely because it reflects the obsessiveness with regard to Christian culture’s pastor-celebrities. But I have also come to hate it because I grow weary of Mark Driscoll’s misstatements . If he’s not saying video games are stupid, or Avatar is satanic, then he is saying that “real men” are those who look and act like him. When I first was introduced to his ministry I was captivated. I became a Driscoll fanboy overnight. I read his books, listened to his sermons, and went to his conferences.

His ministry resonated with me in my particular season of life. Faced with some of the backwardness and introversion of the church I was working in, Driscoll drew upon my desire for a more progressive and outward-focused style of ministry. My own church at the time was consumed with keeping members happy, doing things like spending thousands of dollars on pipe organ repair. There was no interest in outreach opportunities or service projects, though I had arranged for both. It was a frustrating season, and as I read of the “missional” drive behind Driscoll’s church I found myself falling in love with his ministry. The idea of sending church members out on mission to their various contexts had massive appeal to me. That overall shift in ministry focus was starkly different from the self-indulgent “come to us” mindset that I was experiencing at my own church.

It’s important to consider that Driscoll is operating in a very specific context. I agree in part with John Piper who said that we ought to cut Mark some slack. He is pastoring in a difficult place. Seattle, as Driscoll often reminds us, is one of the least “churched” cities in America (there are more dogs than Christians).  Certainly Mark has been used by God to reach many people who wouldn’t otherwise be in church.

And yet, we rarely hear anyone make excuses for morally questionable behavior from David Platt, Francis Chan, or John Piper. Each of these men pastor growing, challenging, and, at times, controversial churches. But their humility is a hallmark of their public persona. They have a great deal of influence today and are often prophetic in their call to both the church and the nation as a whole. They publicly speak courageous words without seeming arrogant. Consider Piper’s now famous Youtube video calling out President Obama. Think of a young David Platt challenging his mega-church to stop buying into the American Dream. Their courage is not contaminated with an arrogance that suggests anyone doing it differently is a “coward.” None of these Christian leaders are regularly rebuked for their arrogance.

It seems that often Driscoll uses his success as a justification of his methods. Because his church is big, he can do and say what he wants. He has, of course, listened to his elders and made the occasional public apology. But Driscoll rarely takes seriously the criticisms of those beyond his immediate influence. It’s not always easy for those under our leadership and influence to see our glaring mistakes, but from a distance many have questioned Mark’s condescending machismo, his cultural indulgence, and his apparent pride and anger. These voices seem to make no impact on him. A pastor can’t, of course, allow himself to be consumed with the barage of critics who don’t know him personally, but there is a danger of living within a vacuum where criticism is always mitigated by immediate influence. The plethora of voices calling Mark to repentance (a plethora that often refrain from calling his peers, such as Platt or Piper or Chan to repentance) seem to warrant a valid hearing.

There is a fine line between courage and arrogance. However, Driscoll’s boldness often seems blatantly condescending. His most recent interview with a British Christian journalist revealed this tendency. In the interview he was oddly defensive. At one point the host asks Mark a legitimate question about a controversial chapter in his latest book and Mark became angry and insisted that the host was just picking at little things in the book for shock value (a particularly odd criticism coming from Driscoll). As the conversation continues he called the host “annoying,” and then began to accuse him of being a theological liberal. He turned the conversation from himself to discuss the hosts views of the atonement and hell, and accused pastors in the UK of being generally cowardly: “Let’s just say this: right now, name for me the one young, good Bible teacher that is known across Great Britain. You don’t have one – that’s the problem. There are a bunch of cowards who aren’t telling the truth.” What does he base this statement on? It’s not clear, and D.A. Carson has contested this diagnosis.

The problem is that Driscoll believes that the degree of a pastor’s fame  is evidence of his faithfulness. It’s a weird and painful interview and the odd defensivness of Driscoll throughout it seems to suggest he is more willing to dish out criticism than receive it. It’s one thing to disagree with someone over theological and methodological issues, but to belittle them and their churches seems to fall short of “courageous” and is more akin to the stereotypical high school jock mocking someone different. If you are an egalitarian be prepared to get stuffed in a locker. If you’re an “anatomically male effeminate worship leader” be prepared for swirlies. I am reminded of Titus 1:7 where an elder is commanded not to be “arrogant or quick-tempered.” This description lies in stark contrast to Driscoll’s own estimation of himself:  in a recent discussion at the Elephant Room he joked that his emotional range goes from angry to really angry. It’s not that Driscoll is incapable of thoughtful, careful, and strategic theological development and discussion. His writings are evidence of this. But, sadly, he is increasingly becoming known for his bullying rather than his thoughtfulness.

I hate writing posts like this, especially about someone from whom I have learned so much. But it is out of such appreciation that I am begging Driscoll to confront these problems. His ministry is far too influential for him to continue in this manner. We are all arrogant jerks at times, but when that behavior and attitude begins to come out regularly in very public forums it reflects on the church at large, and even on our Lord Jesus Christ. I don’t take this role lightly. To publically critique Driscoll is a serious thing. But when you are a public representative of the faith making very public sins, and when you’ve made apologies for some of the sins but not made changes to your habits you should be called out publically. Perhaps, behind closed doors Driscoll’s elders and friends are challenging him on this, but there is no evidence of change in his behavior. It is necessary, then, for the public call to be made. Those of us who are brothers and sisters in Christ should challenge one another always, and I consider Mark my brother. We’ve never met, but I love him. And though we’ve never met, I am compelled to call him to repentance in love.

Christ and Pop Culture

Music at Mars Hill is a weekly column by Luke Larsen that seeks to find God amidst the newest trends in both mainstream music and independent music.

Lana Del Rey, aka Lizzy Grant, may have been the most talked-about music story in 2011. That is, outside another infamous young singer who fired up debate over ethics and music earlier in the year. And yes, I’m talking about Rebecca Black.

The two don’t often get put in the same sentence, but in my mind there is a real and serious connection going on between the two. While Rebecca Black mostly just gave a lot of people a lot to laugh about, I took her role in our culture pretty seriously back in August when I wrote an article insisting that were we in some way partially responsible for her. After all, we are the ones who have the consumed cultural products that have somehow encouraged Rebecca Black, her parents, and the Ark Music Factory to believe she could succeed.

In some ways, I could understand the outcry over Black though. After all, “Friday” is absolutely hysterical. But Lana Del Rey? Did people have good reasons to be offended by the fact that Lana Del Rey wasn’t as “indie” as they had thought? If it wasn’t for Rebecca Black, would people have given any thought to the fact that Lana Del Rey wasn’t the singer’s real name and that she may or may not have gotten lip surgery and that she may or may not have been “engineered” by producers and agents to trick hipsters?

It’s as if, all of a sudden, we have become hyper-aware of how the music we listen to was made — as if we have become concerned that it had been made by underpaid workers in an assembly line in a Chinese factory. Don’t get me wrong: I think this new sense of awareness is something we should be thanking the “Friday” and Ark Music Factory incident for. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves either — it’s not like Lana Del Rey is any different than most other artists out there, whether they consider themselves “indie” or “mainstream.”

Marketing, branding, image, and production are not just afterthoughts in our musical culture — they are the bread and butter and they always have been. What would “Like a Rolling Stone” have been outside of the hippie movement? What would “Smells Like Teen Spirit” be without the 90s grunge movement it was part of? A band or artist doesn’t need to be signed to Interscope Records to care about stuff like what kind of clothes they wear, how long their beards are, and where their political/spiritual beliefs fall. That is why you won’t read many music reviews that talk a lot about music theory or technical performance skills.

The simple truth is that songs cannot simply be removed from their cultural context as if they are some kind of organism on a Petri dish in a science lab. Nor should we want them to be.

Christ and Pop Culture

A new study is highlighted in an article posted at Co.Exist (part of Fast Company Design) proposing the U.S. economy and citizen well-being would improve if everyone worked less . . . as in, 21 hours per week. This would allow more time to live, rather than merely consume, life:

The New Economics Foundation (NEF) says there is nothing natural or inevitable about what’s considered a “normal” 40-hour work week today. In its wake, many people are caught in a vicious cycle of work and consumption. They live to work, work to earn, and earn to consume things.

I agree with the cycle. Most couples have to consider both the extra income as well as the extra expenses that come from both partners working full time. Working 40 hours per week does take the bulk of our time. Could this shift in perception of what constitutes full-time work help?

Christ and Pop Culture

As women, I believe we in part perpetuate the man-boy problem by failing to hold the highest standards for ourselves, standards God desires for us. I recently heard a friend complaining that she couldn’t get Phillip to call her. Two minutes later, she responded to his text, “Wanna watch a movie at my house?” in the affirmative. I’ve seen it too many times — brilliant, accomplished, God-fearing women making excuses for the players and the deadbeats and the guy who aren’t interested in anything more than sex. A lot of us have been there. We’re strong. We aren’t settling. And then we lose sight of what’s important and start “hanging out with” that guy. If a man can’t call to ask you on a date, he’s certainly not going to man-up and put a ring on your finger.

At the top of the Stuff Christians Like file is the idea that we can speak dogmatically about things that run against our preferences and add veiled hints that somehow those breaches of our tastes run contrary to The Way God Wants It. The amount of overlap between these things and Technological Developments We’re Uncomfortable With pretty much makes up for the majority of things we, as a Christian culture, are worried about. This time, it’s texting. Again. Next time it may be videogames. Again. Or maybe the internet. Again. Or maybe digital reading devices. Again. Or who knows, maybe someone will go retro and complain about television or cellphones again. It’d be cliche if it hadn’t already moved from cliche to The Way It Is.

Christ and Pop Culture