Head full of sermons, mouth full of spiders.

Most of the time I surf the net with a purpose - I find out what's goin' on via the New York Times, the CBC, and by traversing the blogosphere. Occasionally, I surf with reckless abandon, following links here and there, with no real aim in mind. Sometimes, that technique turns up some things that are actually worth reading. For instance, tonight I stumbled across the blog of Jamie Smith, who happens to be a philosophy professor at Calvin College. I'm not sure that he'd appreciate me referencing his august blog on a website such as this, but a post from May contained a few things about discipleship that struck me, so I'm going to link to it anyway. The post is about GW Bush's speech at Calvin (I know, I know, old news...), but sometimes people say things in such an eloquent fashion that I'm inclined to reference them here, partially out of a (narcisisstic) desire to be associated with such people, but also (I pray) out of recognition that such expressions demand something of me. For instance:

We need to first ask: Why was it that so many in Calvin’s constituency—and many other Christians in West Michigan—eagerly welcomed President Bush into a central ritual of our college community? Why is it that the Reformed cultural elite have come to so closely identify being faithful with being committed to a party that privileges the wealthy, is aggressively militaristic, and caters to the nouveau riche of late capitalism?

My answer would be both simple and complex: this represents a failure of discipleship. If we find the climate of highly-churched West Michigan to be so complicit with institutionalized social injustice, then we have no one to blame but ourselves. Clearly, our churches, far from forming us otherwise, are actually contributing to the formation of docile subjects of the GOP machine.

What, then, would be a fitting response? Armbands? A letter?

If the problem is a failure of discipleship, the only proper response must be a rigorous commitment to re-imagining Christian formation.

and then,

So I’ll continue to see my adult Sunday School class or our Bible study group as political spaces where, slowly to be sure, disciples of Jesus are shaped by the politics of Jesus. This politics doesn’t play the game of party lines or state power, but rather seeks to form us otherwise—as those who desire a different kingdom and who serve a king-in-waiting.


At first glance such rhetoric sends me hurtling toward a (mostly) sanctimonious political fervour. Ultimately, though, I need to be attentive, because on the lower frequencies he's speaking to me, and providing a timely and necessary reminder of my responsibility.