Screaming Obscenities: How Derek Fisher is Like Substitutionary Atonement

by Ben Howard

I spent most of last evening screaming obscenities at a middle-aged man for doing an unimportant thing poorly.

That's a pretty average night for me during the NBA Playoffs.

The middle-aged man in question is Oklahoma City Thunder point guard/old guy Derek Fisher and the unimportant thing he was doing poorly was "play basketball." In my defense, he is paid handsomely to do just that, so we're both kind of in the wrong here.

Let me try and provide a little context. I went to school in Oklahoma and subsequently became a fan of the Oklahoma City Thunder. Currently, the Thunder are playing the Memphis Grizzlies in the second round of the playoffs. The Thunder were one of the best teams all season until one of their best players hurt his knee a few weeks back.

Enter Derek Fisher.

It's important to note that Derek Fisher was not always bad at playing basketball. No, once upon a time he was actually quite good. While he was never a superstar, Fisher was the starting point guard of the Los Angeles Lakers when they won five championships from 2000 to 2010. He was never great, but he was a solid role player and hit the occasional big three pointer. Good things.

Unfortunately, Derek Fisher is now 38 years old. While in the real world this would be considered the cusp of "middle-aged," in basketball terms it's over the hill and then some.

So why, you might ask, is Derek Fisher playing so much if he's no longer good at basketball?

Ah, this is the important question. Derek Fisher is playing because he has experience, he has been tested and he has done good things before. Of course, none of these things mean he will play well now or in the future, but they are comforting traits.

As I sat there last night, dejected, hurling insults at an aging basketball player who had never done me any personal ill, I realized something important. Derek Fisher is like substitutionary atonement.

Now you probably weren't expecting that. You may very well be wondering how an over-the-hill point guard is at all similar to the theology that Jesus had to die in order for our sins to be erased and God's wrath to be satisfied. It's a valid question.

Derek Fisher is like substitutionary atonement because, while he may have served his purpose in another place at another time, he is outdated and incapable of responding to the needs of this time and this place. In fact, Derek Fisher is like a lot of outdated theories and theologies. Derek Fisher is also like creationism, and he's like supersessionism (the belief that the New Covenant replaces and supersedes the Mosaic covenant).

As time passes and society evolves, so must our theology; our interpretation of what is true and how the world works. This is not to say that traditional theologies or views are necessarily "bad" or "useless"; many traditional theologies continue to hold strong, but some, like those mentioned above, have served the purpose of their times and need to be discarded so that God can continue to work and speak in the world today.

This is not a dismissal of these theologies for the good they may have done in the past, just a realization that they are no longer responding to the questions that formed them. Like Derek Fisher, they are hurting and no longer helping.

It's difficult to move away from experience and tradition, especially when the next easy answer is not readily available. It's hard to move on from a known quantity out into the vast unknown, but sometimes it's useful and sometimes it's vitally necessary.

Derek Fisher isn't as bad as he was last night, but he'll never be as consistently good as he once was, and soon that good side will be more memory than reality. Substitutionary atonement, or creationism, or whatever outdated theology comes to mind were probably useful in their times. Some of them may still be useful on occasion today, but they are not consistently useful, they are not consistently good, and soon the good they did will be a memory drowned out by the pain they cause when used improperly.

I know it's a weird analogy, but sometimes we have to let go of tradition and abandon the things that worked in the past in order to truly embrace the best of our future.

Peace,
Ben

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87. 

 

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Ignorance, Cynicism and Martin Sheen

by Ben Howard

When I was a junior in high school I took a speech class. Near the end of the year, the teacher invited three of us to participate in a countywide speech competition at the Kiwanis Club, or maybe it was the Rotary Club.

I remember our theme was something fluffy and optimistic, you know, the kind of speech that a wide-eyed kid is supposed to give to impress middle-aged adults. Something about integrity, or responsibility, or some other vaguely defined value of that ilk. All the specifics are hazy, but I do remember my speech. I titled it, “Ignorance is Bliss.”

I'm sure you'll be astounded to discover that my remarks on the virtues of knowing fewer things in order to be happy did not win me any prizes on that day, but I'm still convinced that in spite of its cynical nature, it was an honest statement.

Fast forward eight years to the summer of 2012.

Ignorance is much more difficult now. It actually takes a concerted effort to not know things. As a fan of sports/movies/TV/music/rock opera/etc, this is a bittersweet pill. The central story, the movie or the game, is now couched in background narrative that distorts the way we consume it.

For instance, I'm a fan of the Oklahoma City Thunder. I've been ecstatic about the team all year, and that excitement only escalated as they reached the NBA Finals this June. However, because I'm a sports fan in the modern world, I'm also privy to the Achilles heel of my favorite team's likable image: the team's owners.

In case you didn't know, let me burst your joyously naive bubble. The Thunder used to play in Seattle, until they were bought by two energy magnates Clay Bennett and Aubrey McClendon. In the least subtle and most egregious way possible, Bennett and McClendon lobbied to move the team from Seattle to their home state of Oklahoma. This violates the fictional Hippocratic Oath of Team Ownership: First, do no harm to the fans.

So, what is a conscientious sports fan to do? Of course, I was overjoyed by my team's success, but ghostly images of sad children in faded Gary Payton jerseys were never far from my mind.

How about an example from the movies? I love superhero movies, so I was excited, though a bit confused to see that they were doing a reboot of Spiderman this summer. However, I quickly learned that Sony pushed the reboot because otherwise they might have lost the movie rights to Disney. Was this a creative decision? Was the world clambering for another Spiderman? No. Sony just wanted to squeeze as much cash as they could from the franchise.

And I still loved the movie! It was fun, it was electric, it had Martin Sheen! Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone were flirty and cute and I loved every second of it. Would I have enjoyed it more if I didn't know the films origin story? I think so.

The 16 year old version of me may have been right when he argued in favor of ignorance. In fact, I know he was right. People are happier when they don't know things.

But it's also deeply immature and that's why those judges were right not to reward me. Truth is not found either in burying our heads in the sand and claiming ignorance lest we discover some piece of unwanted news, nor does it come from spinning into a self-righteous frenzy over the cynical flaws that inhabit the objects of our affection.

That's called maturity. It means realizing that the world is full of flaws including the things we enjoy. That doesn't mean we throw them away and march off in search of perfection, it means that we have to live in the tension between our idealistic notions and the world that actually exists. Just because something's a little cracked doesn't mean it isn't beautiful.

This is the reason why the church is worth salvaging. Does it have it's flaws? Yes, deep ones. Can it still reflect beauty and honesty and love? Yes, profoundly. Can it still embody Jesus? Can it still be filled with the Spirit? Can it still be the image of God? Yes, yes, yes.

My generation has been really good at skepticism and cynicism. We've learned how to pick things apart, how to deconstruct and criticize, but I'm not sure we know how to build. I hope we can learn. I hope I can learn. It's too easy to be cynical; too easy to let the background noise overwhelm the actual story. Here's to growing up.

Peace,

Ben

When he isn't opining about the betterment of society and the church, Ben is watching episodes of West Wing. Martin Sheen! You can follow his Jed Bartlet-influenced views on Twitter @BenHoward87.

Sons of Thunder

by Ben Howard

The NBA playoffs recently came to a close with the Miami Heat claiming the NBA Championship over the Oklahoma City Thunder.  One of the dominant narratives of the Finals involved the interplay between Oklahoma City’s two dynamic young stars, Russell Westbrook and Kevin Durant.  For those unfamiliar with the two, I’ll provide a quick primer. 

Kevin Durant was a college superstar at Texas and declared for the draft after playing just one year in college.  He was universally declared to be a future superstar and was drafted 2^nd overall.  Over the past 5 years Durant has quickly developed into arguably the best pure scorer in basketball and is a perennial MVP candidate.

Russell Westbrook went to college as a project full of untapped athletic potential.  He declared for the draft after his sophomore year of college even though he hadn’t performed up to expectations at UCLA.  He was drafted fifth overall by the Thunder in the hopes that he would translate that athleticism into basketball skills.  Westbrook has developed into a dynamic whirlwind of a player full of acrobatic athletic displays and violent enthusiastic dunks, but is also prone to inconsistency and immaturity.  However, he is still considered one of the best players in the NBA and a major reason for the Thunder’s success.

Why do I bring up these two players and what could they possibly have to do with theology or Christian thought or anything important in any way whatsoever?  As the playoffs moved along, I became more and more convinced that Durant and Westbrook symbolize the two sides of the Christian spectrum with which I am most intimately intertwined.  Durant symbolizes the cool, consistency of the liturgical, historical church.  He represents a known quantity.  He occasionally dazzles, but his value is based in his ability to replicate his performance over and over and over and over again in the face of whatever obstacle happens to stand in his way.  As a result, Durant, like the historical liturgical tradition is seen as more respectable and is spoken of with more regard, especially by those who appreciate the methodical consistency of his approach.

In contrast, Westbrook represents the more recently emerged evangelical tradition.  Like Westbrook, this tradition often teeters right on the edge between brilliant and out of control.  It is fueled by enthusiasm and emotion, which when appropriately tempered can produce an experience verging on the mystical or magical.  When it works, it can bring us to the edge of awe.  However, when it falls flat or when it begins to fly so fast that it jumps the tracks and flies off into the great beyond, it does not merely fall short of awe-inspiring, it seems disastrous and unsalvagable.

In my own personal experience, I and many others like myself, lean heavily toward the Durant/liturgical/historical version of Christianity; we search for consistency with the ability for transcendence.  However, the more I reflect upon the church as a whole the more I think we need the Westbrook/evangelical aspect just as much.  We need the sparkplug, we need the energy and the enthusiasm, the violence and virtuosity.  And the Westbrooks of the world need the Durants too.  They need the calm voice of control and consistency to tame the raw emotion which can all too easily lead to chaos.

One of the core problems for the Thunder was the tendency for Westbrook to assert control and Durant’s failure to assert himself.  This to me is the same problem in the wider church.  Due to ego or insecurity the evangelical tradition often asserts itself to its own detriment and the more liturgical, occasionally elitist tradition fades into the background either to watch the evangelicals fail, or because of their own insecurities.  But when the two can work together, play off each other, support each others weaknesses with the others strength, then we all become witnesses to beauty, transcendence and hope for the fulfillment of a dream.

Peace,

Ben

You can follow me on Twitter @BenHoward87