I’m reading The Purpose-Driven Life at the moment, and I can understand the disapproval it has received from many in the emerging church.
Like many things modern, it presents a bite-sized Gospel that can be digested in little pieces. Everything in it is handy and portable, and if the book itself is not convenient enough, you can get Scripture Keeper Plus to help you memorize those all-important decontextualized verses.
Decontextualization is the problem, as Jimmy at Fluidfaith has pointed out regarding The Passion of the Christ. If Jesus’ death is given no context, it loses its real meaning and ceases to be good news, becoming only a tragic story portrayed with an almost voyeuristic realism.
I am personally tired of hearing American bloggers (like myself) rant about the modern institutional church, and if that is all this post is, I’ve failed in my purpose (after all, What on Earth is This Post Here For?). Rather, I want to point out, in a thoughtful way, the ways in which books like this one perpetuate the ritzcrackerization of Christianity.
First, Warren introduces most of the 1000+ scriptural quotations with “The Bible says…”, a formula we get pretty familiar with after two or three pages. If you view the Bible as a kind of gigantic book of Proverbs, this isn’t really a problem. The Proverbs are perfect for this kind of quoting (though there is certainly a poetic and narrative structure in the book):
He who winks maliciously causes grief,
and a chattering fool comes to ruin. Proverbs 10:10
This verse is pretty quotable, and you don’t lose much by pulling it into something else without any background.
But what about the rest of the Bible, the parts that are story and epistle and history? What happens if we take these out in useful, bite-sized pieces? I think we are unfair to the text when we demand that it be useful to us.
For example, you’ve probably heard the verse “Stop drinking only water, and use a little wine because of your stomach and your frequent illnesses.” (1 Tim 5:23). It’s been used a lot of different ways, mostly to prove a point about hermeneutics (like I’m doing now) or to be funny (like I did in high school). Context means a lot. It’s not everything, but it’s a lot.
Second, the book is divided into 40 bite-sized purpose-driven chapters. Why? Readability, of course. Web pages do this, and it’s a great idea. People don’t want to wade through 65-page chapters. Even in dense material like Beyond Foundationalism, there are headings and sub-headings to give the reader a break.
But I think something else is being communicated here: God has truths for you, and they come in little 5-page chunks. They are summarizable in attractive little boxes at the end of each chapter. And they tell you everything you need to know about life. Sure.
Third, Warren presents the bite-sized gospel at the end of chapter 7. In case it’s too inconvenient for you to, say, actually become a Christian before reading the rest of the book, you are provided with a nice little 3-paragraph sermon on how to accept Christ. Then you’re free to continue learning God’s purposes for your life.
We can do better than that. As NT Wright discusses in The Challenge of Jesus, Jesus is not just a fountain of timeless truths. His message has a context, just as his life and death and resurrection had a context. We have much continuity with that context, because it is found in a story that began before Jesus was born in Nazareth and still wasn’t over by the time I was born in New Jersey. It continues alive today because God is still working out his story, still shaping the world through the advancement of his Kingdom. That’s a big gospel.