Mark Driscoll is an interesting character. One of the most influential ministers in America, Driscoll started Mars Hill Church in Seattle when he was 25 years old. Formerly part of the "Emergent" church movement, Driscoll later distanced himself from the movement and is now one of the most vocal critics of leaders like Brian McLaren and Rob Bell (guys I very much consider influences, which might give you some indication of my perception of Driscoll).
Driscoll has long embraced a "man's man" image - one of his biggest criticisms of leaders like McLaren is their portrayal of Jesus as someone who embraced peace. In a 2007 article in Relevant magazine, Driscoll famously said, "In Revelation, Jesus is a (prize) fighter with a tattoo down his leg, a sword in his hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is a guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up."
This statement is so wrong -- and terrifying -- that I can't begin to unpack it. Suffice it to say that any of us could indeed beat Jesus up -- you know, because of that whole "turn the other cheek" thing.
Driscoll has recently emerged (pun intended) in the news because of the publication of his new book -- "Real Marriage: The Truth About Sex, Friendship, and Life Together," written by Driscoll and his wife, Grace. Come to think of it, Grace might be Driscoll's only female friend, given some of his views on the role of women, particularly in ministry -- upon the election of the first female bishop in the Episcopal Church, Driscoll blogged, "If Christian males do not man up soon, the Episcopalians may vote a fluffy baby bunny rabbit as their next bishop to lead God's men."
In the immortal words of Dave Barry, I am not making this up.
While I was in Lexington for work recently, I met my buddy Caleb and his fiancee, Janie, for a Malibu veggie pizza and a Magic Hat #9 at Old Chicago Pizza. (My meal would've given Driscoll a headache -- I would earn man points for the beer, but lose them for the veggie pizza.)
Anyway, Driscoll came up in our conversation -- in part because Janie posted a link on Facebook recently detailing a radio interview Driscoll did in Great Britain. I would encourage you to read the entire thing, but if you'd rather not, here's a summary: Driscoll suggests that ministers in the UK are cowards; then proceeds to criticize the host's wife, who is a pastor; then, tangentially, begins to grill the host on his views about hell, eventually telling him to stop "drinking decaf" and get "more courage."
Caleb said that he is hesitant to publicly dive into the Driscoll controversy, primarily because he doesn't want to call attention to Driscoll's egomaniacal drivel (my words, not his).
I must admit that I have wrestled with this as well.
As I mentioned in a recent blog, I used to write a monthly "Faith and Culture" column for the newspaper where I worked as the sports editor. More often than not, I used that forum to try to convince people that Christianity wasn't what its loudest voices said it was. I hoped to communicate that many of us who are passionately committed to following Christ do not share many of the opinions of James Dobson, Jerry Falwell, and Fred Phelps ... and, now, Mark Driscoll.
I think part of the reason this is ingrained in me is because I know people who cannot accept faith in God as valid if it means swallowing what these guys are dishing out. It's heart-breaking to think of those who are hostile to the faith as a result of the things they've heard about what God is like from some self-appointed mouthpiece. I can relate to that hostility, because if I believed God was the way God is portrayed by these folks, I probably would not want to be a Christ-follower either.
Someone I'm very close to regularly encourages me to keep speaking up; she tells me that the things I write help keep alive at least a small interest in Christ. I would hope this is the case for others as well.
On the other side is the reality -- sometimes a very uncomfortable reality for me -- that Driscoll and Dobson are my brothers. As much as I would like to, I cannot disown them. To do so only intensifies the fracturing that plagues the body of Christ, and makes me as guilty of closing the borders as they are.
So the question becomes: How do I reconcile the two? How do I decry the hurtful words and actions of others who profess faith in Jesus, without showing the same disdain to them that they show to others?
I don't have a completely satisfactory answer. And, to be honest, the Bible is little help. On the one hand, we are clearly commanded to love one another and to be gentle in our dealings with one another. On the other hand, we find that Jesus saved his harshest words for the religious elite of his day -- those who "strained at gnats and swallowed camels," who observed the law to the letter while neglecting the more important matters of doing justly, loving mercy and walking humbly with God.
We are called to be peacemakers, but we are also called to speak prophetically against injustice -- and Driscoll's male-supremacy, homophobic, war-mongering, egomaniacal teachings are decidedly unjust. How does one function simultaneously as a prophet and a peacemaker?
A very similar issue arose in our Bible study not long ago, and it was suggested that perhaps motive is everything. If I repudiate Driscoll's words to start a battle of egos, to prove how right I am or how orthodox my theology is in relation to his, then my effort is wasted and I am as guilty as the man I'm criticizing.
Perhaps it's a different story, however, if I do it out of a genuine concern for those who are confused or wounded by his words; then, it would seem that my actions are more in line with the way of Jesus. At that point, it isn't about me; it's about those Driscoll would rather exclude. It's about helping those hurting, rejected people to know that there is room for them in the expansive Kingdom of God.
Maybe I don't have this exactly right. I want to walk that line, but I'm certain I make a misstep from time to time. But I will go on believing that, at the end of the day, God knows my intentions. I will go on believing that I can make a difference. And, most of all, I will go on believing that love will eventually trump every form of hate -- even the forms that are dressed up in God-talk.
(Note: For a couple of other reads about the Driscoll controversy, check out Mark Sandlin's post on The God Article and a piece on Rachel Held Evans' blog.)
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