The Complex Christ

Insert Coin | Is Church a Game?

The ever-brilliant Believer Magazine took 'Games' as its theme for the September issue. It's left me with some thoughts I want to share, probably over the course of a few posts.

One of the main articles, by Paul La Farge, was an exploration of Dungeons and Dragons, which, in typical Believer style, meant a gorgeous meditation on the history and culture of the game, building to the author playing an actual game with D&D's founder (sort of), Gary Gygax.

La Farge writes:

"The appeal of D&D is superficially not very different from the appeal of reading. You start outside something (Middle Earth, Dickens' London) and you go in, bit by bit. Along the way, you may have occasion to think, to doubt, or even to learn. Then you come back: your work has piled up, it's past your bedtime; people may wonder what you have been doing. D&D is a game for people who like rules: in order to play the game you had to make sense of roughly twenty pages of instructions."

 

However, in the course of the article La Farge explores the extent to which D&D actually is a game. He quotes Lévi-Strauss:

"Games appear to have a disjunctive effect: they end in the establishment of a difference between players or teams where originally there was no indication of inequality. And at the end of the game they are distinguished into winners and losers."

La Farge notes that there are no real winners or losers in D&D, and there is no real difference established. So, rather than being a game, it is instead, perhaps, closer to ritual. Again quoting Lévi-Strauss:

"Ritual, on the other hand, is the exact inverse: it cojoins, for it brings about a union, or in any case, and organic relation between two initially separate groups."

Having read the article I began to wonder if the Emerging Church was rather too similar to D&D than we might like to admit. Men spending too much time in dark, dungeon-like rooms exploring deep worlds? I don't even want to go there!

More seriously, I do wonder if this distinction between game and ritual gives us something to reflect on. It is interesting to note that the clichéd D&D player was 'nerd' as opposed to 'jock'. Jocks were definitely into games, because they knew they could win. Nerds went for something more conjunctive, perhaps because they knew they couldn't.

One might argue that the Evangelical model of faith, with hell for the losers, is very much like a game, with very high stakes. And the Christian 'jocks' love to play. But is that what God wanted? Has the Emerging Church become the 'nerd' version, the non-competitve, no losers model? We might want to claim that the expressions of church we are involved in are fully based on ritual... but are we ignoring the sense of competitiveness about our success when we do so?

So, I think it is worth reflecting: is the Church playing at game or ritual?
For now I've run out of credit.

for more soon...

Technorati Tags: Church, Gaming, Gygax, Dungeons and Dragons, Religion

'It Is Finished'

Death, terror and self-determination.

On this Good Friday, I thought a link to this reflection was appropriate.

Peace.

Via Crucis Grid Blog: The Cross

"

An image which frequently appears among the archetypal configurations of the unconscious is that of the tree or the wonder-working plant."
Carl Jung

The Golden Bough, the Burning Bush, the Tree of Life, the Forbidden Fruit, Golden Flower, Ambrosia... The healing plant has a long history, and appears to be 'rooted' in our very subconscious as a potent symbol of life and transformation.

So how does the Cross fit in? It is clearly part of the 'healing plant' archeype, but perhaps with some essential differences. For the tree that Christ hangs on on this Good Friday has been ripped from the ground. It has no roots anymore. It has been 'manufactured' by humankind. Given shape and form by technologies. This healing tree is therefore in touch with death.

As God hangs dying, the two poles of creation and death meet, and within their potential difference lies our healing, our re-rooting, our re-grafting. Separated from the earth, hung above it, God is then thrust in death into the earth's dirty bowels. It is here, in these places where the two poles are forced together that our ressurection begins.

The Judas I Never Knew

There has been some debate stirred over the discovery/translation of 'The Gospel of Judas'. For those of you who haven't read The Complex Christ (and why not?! Buy it here, now!), I wanted to outline some of my thoughts on Judas from the book.

We are often encouraged to meditate on characters from Scripture. To put ourselves in their place. To imagine we are Peter, by the fire, denying Christ, catching his eye, being re-instated. But Judas has traditionally been totally off limits. He is unredeemable. He betrayed Jesus. He is to be rubbished, spat on, despised, forgotten.

But I think he is closer to home than we might at first imagine. Judas was probably the most educated of the disciples. He was one of the few not from 'up North', and likely saw himself as a cut above, a bit special. He was the only one given a task: to take care of the money, and we can imagine he probably earned that by being more numerate. It is also thought he was likely to be a bit of a Zealot. He probably saw Jesus' mission - as most did - as a political one. Jesus would rise up against the Romans and chuck them out, restoring sovereignty to Israel.

Judas would doubtless have heard that the authorities were looking for a way to trap Jesus. They had also said that they didn't want him arrested over the festival, because they feared that after his triumphant entry to Jerusalem the people would riot. Perhaps Judas spots an opportunity. He will go to them, offer to betray Jesus, and persuade them that he can only do it now - over the festival. Perhaps he hopes this will cause a riot, and thus catalyze Jesus into his political takeover.

Judas attends the Last Supper. And when Jesus hands him a piece of bread - his 'body broken' - Judas leaves. Why did he leave then? Perhaps because he was the only one to understand the huge significance of what Jesus was doing in that first act of communion. If Jesus is going to die and become transcendent, he will slip through his political hands. The Complex Christ - dispersed, viral, networked - cannot be controlled. And he must stop this happening.

So he goes to the authorities. They convene hurriedly and agree to his plan. They go to find Jesus, and a crowd follow them - excellent! He approaches Jesus and kisses him. Perhaps he thinks Jesus will be pleased - he is offering him his golden opportunity on a plate to begin his political mission. Things start brilliantly: a fight breaks out, and swords are drawn... Then disaster - Jesus commands them all to stop. He submits, is led away, given a mock trial and killed, his followers dispersed. He has failed.

We know Judas was distraught. We know he threw the money back, and committed suicide. He repented.

So who is this Judas I never knew? It is me. It is you. Whenever we try to co-opt God into our own programmes, box God up and decide for God what God is going to do, when we kiss Christ, but more in lust for power than love of the Other, we are playing Judas, and betraying this complex Christ who will not be controlled.

So whenever we are offered bread and wine we must reflect on this choice that Judas had. To allow Christ this dangerous and free mission, or try to channel him into our own agenda. And as we take, eat and drink, we must commit to that holy freedom of God, and pray for the Judas in each of to be redeemed.

Technorati Tags: Easter, Eucharist, Good Friday, Judas, Religion, Theology

Grizzly Man | Searching for Salvation

Just been to see Grizzly Man. It's fantastic.

For those who haven't heard about it, it's a documentary cut by Werner Herzog, using footage shot by Timothy Treadwell on his summers living among Grizzly Bears in Alaska. It wouldn't spoil the film for you to know that in his 13th summer there, he and his girlfriend were mauled to death by a one of them.

Treadwell shot over 100 hours of footage, much of it with him narrating in shot, so there was a wealth of material for Herzog to use, which he intercuts with interviews with friends and others.

What makes the film utterly intriguing is the character of Treadwell himself, who is convinced that he alone is working to protect and save these creatures. It becomes clear that with healthy populations and a functioning nature reserve this is patently not the case. His work is simply not needed, but after a difficult life of failed attempts at other projects, and severe alcoholism, he is desperate to be a saviour to something. He cuts a tragic figure, but is not to be pitied, being totally in love with what he is doing, and totally convinced that he is the only one who can do it.

The film thus becomes a meditation on the human need for salvation. Not so much that we need saving, but that we are desperate to save something, to be something meaningful, to lay our lives down for something.

The question we must therefore ask is, is our life's work worth it? Are we out to save something that doesn't need us?

Only on limited release, so try to catch it soon.

Technorati Tags: Fantasy, Film, Grizzly Man, Salvation