Theology for the People – 2 Books by Richard Beck

These two books are by Richard Beck and are part of the “Theology for the People” series: Reviving Old Scratch: Demons and the Devil for Doubters and the Disenchanted; and, Stranger God: Meeting Jesus in Disguise

Basic Thesis/Argument:

In Reviving Old Scratch, Beck contends that “if we want to recover a vibrant and energized faith, we need to get over our awkwardness in talking about the Devil and spiritual warfare” (page 26). Beck wrote this book primarily for those Christians who, for the most part, can be labeled as “doubting and disenchanted,” and often find it “silly to talk about things like the Devil or spiritual warfare” when we live in a modern, scientifically informed age (page 5). Beck also has those in mind who do believe in a literal Devil. For them, Beck seeks to widen their perspectives beyond demon possession and immaterial spiritual warfare. He believes it is “absolutely essential that…Christians recover and invest in a theology of spiritual warfare” (page xvii).

In Stranger God, Beck implores us to join the kindness revolution (page 237) by enlarging our “circle of affections” (page 12). Through engaging in the ancient practice of hospitality, we encounter the God “who surprises us in strangers” (page 2). Beck offers a strategy for engaging in this practice based on the Little Way of Therese of Lisieux. He contends that our hearts need to be changed. The practice of the Little Way provides us with a means for developing habits that move us towards others in spite of the emotional difficulties we encounter in trying to develop a “will to embrace” the other (page 12).

Analysis/Summary:

Reviving Old Scratch:

Beck begins this work by stating that though a “scientifically educated and sophisticated faith is a wonderful thing, scientific literacy has a price,” and that price is a diminishment of an enchanted perspective on the supernatural world (page 4). The result has been that many people now focus more on the material earth than an unseen heaven; which in turn has pushed many people toward a more ecologically and socially conscious expression of faith (page 5). As a consequence of this, many Christians have lost sight of the full dynamic of the powers that are arrayed against what God desires for the world.

At the outset, Beck directs us to clarify what is meant by the label/name Satan/Devil. He contends that when we make Satan out to be merely a “symbol of evil” and not literally a fallen angel or something real, we move away from what the bible seems to be describing. Instead, in the bible, “Satan and the Devil are interchangeable names for the personification of all that is adversarial to the kingdom and people of God, the personified enemy of God” (page 8). Spiritual warfare then, “is shorthand for the Christ-shaped pushback against all the forces in the world working antagonistically against the kingdom of God” (page 9).

Next, Beck lays out why he thinks so many in our world doubt the existence of a literal devil. He believes that many people struggle with combining their faith in God with their scientific literacy. He says that “many scientifically literate people find it hard to believe in ghosts, and this skepticism affects their beliefs in other supernatural beings…” (page 15). Instead, these Christians resort to a variety of coping mechanisms. These are what Beck refers to collectively as the “Scooby-Dooifying” of the bible. This occurs when we “look past the spooky and supernatural covering to expose the human element” in the text which from this skeptical perspective is viewed as “the core of the story” (page 18). Instead, Beck encourages his readers to recognize that “the Bible mixes and matches human and spiritual powers” because “the writers of the Bible didn’t think these were different sorts of powers” (page 23).

Disenchanted Christians (those who minimize the supernatural in the biblical stories) tend to focus on the social justice aspects of what these texts and stories call us to do. However, Beck contends that this “narrow focus on political activism often ignores important conversations about personal morality and holiness” (page 25). Instead, Beck believes that if we “want to recover a vibrant and energized faith, we need to get over our awkwardness in talking about the Devil and spiritual warfare” (page 26).

Beck then takes his readers through a tour of the stories of Jesus the exorcist and examines the significance of that aspect of Jesus’ life. He shows that if you remove the “dramatic clash between Jesus and the Devil you eliminate the narrative glue that holds the Gospels together as a coherent story” (page 34). Instead, he shows that the “battle for the kingdom is fought on multiple fronts, but the enemy is the same” (page 36).

Next, Beck delves into the significance of how we view the Devil and its relationship to atonement theories. He paints a picture of the difference between two predominate theories, Penal Substitutionary and Christus Victor. He shows that Christus Victor makes more sense because from that perspective God is “not the problem” (pages 39-44). However, he then argues that Christus Victor requires an adequate view of the Devil or spiritual warfare (page 45). He maintains that even though we must think about contending against wickedness and injustice in concrete terms, we also must be aware that concrete expressions of evil and oppression like the Holocaust and sex trafficking do not “just drop out of the sky,” but spring forth from the Devil, to whom Jesus directed his energies (page 46).

Beck then takes his readers to a place where the worlds of the disenchanted, progressive Christians collide with those who live on the margins of society and hold an enchanted perspective on reality. Beck’s strategy for how to bridge this gap is threefold in nature: 1) “…doubting and disenchanted Christians need to expand [their] vision of spiritual warfare to include more than social justice”…2) “embrace the fact that God’s preferential option for the poor…is as theological as it is political and economic”…3) recognize that, at “root, enchantment is simply a holy openness to Divine surprise” (pages 54-55). Beck implores progressives to recognize that their aversion to terms like spiritual warfare which grows out of their belief that “talking about demons” will cause people to demonize other people, in fact actually works in the opposite direction (page 59). He asserts that our hesitancy to talk about demons contributes to our demonizing of other people. In the title of the next sub-section, Beck offers the hypothesis that “More (Spiritual) Warfare = Less (Physical) Violence” (page 60). He asserts that if anything, spiritual warfare is the “struggle to find room for both love and anger in the very same heart” (page 61).

Beck then takes his reader through a discussion of theodicy, and how a theology of spiritual warfare reckons with the bible’s lack of interest in offering an abstract treatment of the problem of evil and suffering in our world. He contends that a spiritual warfare worldview comports with the bible’s simple assumption that these problems exist. Instead, the “biblical response to evil isn’t philosophical but behavioral. The only theodicy we find in the bible is resistance” (page 82). He reminds us that “God is at war. And it’s time for us to join the fight” (page 83).

In the next major section, Beck seeks to describe what spiritual warfare should look like. He begins by laying out the problem of what he calls “two love” versus “one love” Christians. “Two love” Christians are those who think there is a difference between loving God and loving people. On the other hand, “one love” Christians conflate loving God and other people. He strongly contends that “one love” is the way we should live, and there is “no daylight between” these two loves (page 90). In the “one love view” it would be “heretical to claim that you could hurt another human being in the name of loving” (page 91). This way of loving is exhibited in the way of the cross. Beck argues that spiritual warfare is “the choice between the cross and all that is tempting us away from the cross” (page 92). In this way of viewing spiritual warfare, “it’s a battle fought with love for love” page 97). Though it might not have a physical cost, it often has “a social cost” (page 100).

Beck continues by asserting that we “need to recover a way of speaking about angels and demons because the language of discerning the spirits helps us shift focus away from concrete opponents, to attend to the zeitgeist that produces these injustices” (page 106). For example, he asserts that we can protest and pass all the laws we want, but things like racism are “a zeitgeist, a spirit, an anti-Jesus force at work in the world…protest all you want, racism as a spirit can’t be fixed by passing laws…the battle is inherently spiritual in nature” (page 107). He cites the example of the civil rights attorney Fred Gray who said “I was able to change the laws…but I couldn’t change the hearts” (page 108). As part of this discussion Beck surveys scripture to show the connection between spiritual and political oppression.

Next, Beck examines the connection of the concepts of sin and morality with the political realm. He contends that Christians need to concern themselves equally with both personal morality and systemic evil. In essence, morality is political. Beck states that “holiness is what allows us to become radically available to the world” (page 129). Likewise, “kindness is a matter of character” (page 135). Combined, they serve to help us transform the world. On the other hand, hierarchy and power often serve to “poison basic human kindness and respect” (page 135). Beck describes out tendency, which must be resisted, to grab for power and influence to lord over others – what he describes as the Lucifer Effect. Instead, we must follow the example of Jesus who refused “to use coercive power” to take things for himself.

Beck then examines the biblical description of the power of Satan that resides in our fear of death. This fear often enslaves us, and leads to selfishness and violence (pages 145-146). It tends to focus on scarcity and lack. Beck contends that the practices of grateful worship and prayer help us to move beyond this fear, and enables us to love without dreading that nothing will be left over after we offer our love to others. He calls this stance “doxological gratitude” (page 158). It helps us to confront our idolatry rooted in fear, and points us toward an allegiance to God. This worship and new allegiance will often serve to upend our position in the marketplace. It will have an economic effect. Beck reminds us of the economic effect of the Apostle’s message in the Book of Acts and how this message turned “the world upside down” (page 166). He says, “On the face of it, the church wasn’t a threat to Rome…however, “The church was radical in that it was pulling up the roots of the Roman society, calling into question the sacred foundation upon which imperial Rome was built” (pages 166 – 167).

Beck concludes by describing the resistance to Nazism conducted by the group, The White Rose. This group “interrupted the moral complacency of Nazi Germany”…by “telling the truth” (pages 175 – 180). This interrupting of the world “is often creative, extemporaneous, improvisational, spontaneous, theatrical, and opportunistic” (page 184).

Stranger God:

Beck begins by reminding us that “Hospitality to strangers is God’s test of goodness or wickedness” (page 22). From the beginning of his incarnation, God comes to us as a refugee – “an immigrant speaking with an accent” (page 23). Essentially, we are told in Matthew 25, “we don’t show hospitality to be like Jesus. We show hospitality to welcome Jesus” (page 27).

Beck then bores in more clearly on the problem as he sees it by showing us that we have difficulty expanding our “circle of affection” beyond our friends (page 35). Our moral tendency is “to restrict our kindness to the few rather than the many” (page 41). He describes the practice of the early church in “expanding the moral circle,” and the problems they had in living out their aspirations in this area (pages 44 – 46).

Next, Beck asserts that one of the major reasons the Church fails to enlarge their circle of affection is because they “get the order of embrace wrong” (page 51). People in the church give off the message that embracing the other will happen after change takes place. He describes the mixed messages given off when the church says that they “love the sinner but hate the sin” (page 52). He says that this distinction in loving the sinner but hating the sin is “ultimately impossible to maintain because it excludes the will to embrace…[because] when we start by viewing people through their sins…we lose track of their humanity” (page 53). He goes on to show that when people maintain a hatred for the sin associated with behavior, and yet still love the people who are sinning, it’s because they have already been embraced in a close relationship. That person has already been welcomed “inside the moral circle of our affections” (page 55). This welcome may have limits; but, everything must follow after the “initial will to embrace” (page 62).

Beck then moves to consider the emotional issues surrounding our boundaries and inside/outside labeling. He examines our “disgust response,” in three primary areas (core disgust, socio-moral, and animal-mortality reminder) and the biblical stories surrounding the purity codes. He shows the importance of recognizing our own vulnerability in order to function from a place of empathy. He also examines the implications of what he refers to as “the most toxic emotion,” contempt, and its horrible effect in our relationships (page 96). On the other hand, he shows how the Apostle Paul flipped the script on society’s notions of grace (gifts) as now being thought of as something we don’t deserve. This perspective on grace works in our hearts to break down “the wall of hostility that runs through every heart” (page 102). In the stranger that we encounter who speaks differently than us, worships a different god than us, dresses differently, has different skin color, “God is seeking us…but cannot reach us through the wall of snobbery, superiority, scorn, contempt, and disdain that we erect between ourselves and the world” (page 102).

One of the major impediments to breaking down these walls of contempt is the fear that often grips our hearts (page 104). To a great extent this fear is fed by a scarcity perspective that seeks a scapegoat to focus our blame for what we think is wrong in the world. This fear causes us to misperceive threats, and moves us to dehumanize others. Love cannot thrive in that type of environment.

In order to move beyond disgust, contempt, and fear, Beck asserts that “we must do more than name the negative feelings we have toward people…[w]e need to observe and inventory what triggers these emotions” (page 114). Through examining a series of issues and areas that trigger these negative responses (i.e. politics, habits and lifestyle, hygiene, appearance, disabilities, demographics, social skills, morality, personal history), Beck helps his readers to identify where the battle must be waged in order to “widen the circle of our affections” (page 127). When we enter into this battle, we realize that “Hospitality is a million boring little things that expand the territory of our kindness in a way that open’s us up to welcoming the stranger God” (page 133). It most often happens when we welcome in, and are with, the people already present in our lives (page 134).

In the third major section, Beck offers his suggestion for a spiritual practice that will help to change our hearts in this area; it is a practice that can be worked from within our lives, not as an add-on to our over-scheduled, stressful lives. With this criteria in mind, he describes the Little Way of Saint Therese of Lisieux. He argues that this way of loving “takes attention and intention” (page 150). He believes that through this practice Therese “cracked the discipleship code for ordinary Christians” (page 156). What we need to do is “little things with great love” (page 162). For, as Dorothy Day says “We only love God as much as the person we love the least” (page 168). For Theresse, practicing the “mortification” of our annoyances with others close to us “is to widen the circle of [our] affections, to replace irritation with kindness and warmth” (page 175).

In the next major section, Beck goes on to describe the importance of “seeing,” “stopping,” and “approaching” when seeking to practice “The Little Way” (pages 179 – 206). Beck asserts that this first step in welcoming people consists of getting past the emotional blindness we often have to noticing people as part of humanity, and not as objects. In fact, “Seeing people is a practice of kindness” (page 187). Beck then asserts that one of the major reasons we don’t see people is the pace at which we live our lives. He says, “The speed at which we move through our days is a form of violence” (page 194). Instead, to counteract that violence, we need to “practice interuptibility” (page 194). Beck notices and then asks, “The Good Samaritan stopped. Jesus stopped. Will we stop?” (page 196).

Finally, on a practical level, Beck suggests that the best way to start practicing hospitality is through approaching other people that we notice on the margins in our social circles. He quotes Therese as saying “I must seek out” to show the attitude that we should adopt as we try to widen the circle of our affections. This practice goes against our tendency to detour away from people who irritate us. Beck helpfully points out that most of us don’t have significant enemies as much as we have significant people irritants; and we have a tendency to drift away or detour away from those people. The practice of intentionally approaching these people helps us to change our hearts and widen our circle of affection.

In the final section, Beck addresses the objection he often receives when offering Therese’s “Little Way” as a strategy to change the world (page 209). He says that people often complain and ask “That’s it? Just smile at people and say hi?” (page 209). His response is “Don’t criticize The Little Way as little until you try it” (page 210). He argues that for compassion “to find a healthy and sustainable outlet, [we need] to find a more personal, more intimate scale of action” (page 213). In bringing his argument together, Beck says that “The power of the Little Way is that it asks us to inventory our hearts to identify our biases and prejudices…But repeated contact eventually widens the circle of our affections, for any and all of our biases and prejudices…[and helps us] to move against the grain of our emotional triggers” (pages 218 – 219).

Beck brings this book to a close by describing the importance of the distinction between the words “with and for” (pages 221 – 241). He reminds us that “The Little Way isn’t aimed at fixing people’s problems, working for them…[but] being with, widening the circle of our affections to open our hearts to surprising, unexpected friendships” (page 224). He directs our attention to the early church that “ignored the state. Instead they extended care and aid to those in their community who were destitute and in need…[they didn’t turn to the state for answers and solutions. They turned toward each other. They fought the battles being waged in their hearts…[they] changed the world through friendship” (pages 225 – 227). These friendships enabled the growth of “social capital, the depth and breadth of our social connections” (page 228). He reminds us that one of the biggest problems facing those in material poverty is a lack of social capital. Social concentrations of poverty weaken the social capital for people caught in enclaves where the rich and poor are separated. He also shows us that it is not the strong social ties that aid in finding jobs or other economic help, it is the weaker ties (the second tier of relationships – the acquaintances once removed) that provide the most help. Beck contends that “The Little Way becomes the exact intervention that can help the poor, creating and giving them a deeper and richer social network” (page 233). This was often what happened when the early church practiced koinonia in a rich social network, exponentially increasing their social capital. The poor formed friendships with the rich” (page 236). This starts with kindness.

Appreciation and Strengths/Weaknesses:

In my opinion, both of these books contain wonderful food for thought. The following represents only a few of the many ideas that I found interesting, helpful, or otherwise well expressed. In particular, in Reviving Old Scratch I appreciated Becks insistence that concrete expressions of evil don’t “just drop out of the sky” (page 46) and a healthy concept of spiritual warfare is necessary to adequately conceive of how evil engages the world. He couples that with a nicely nuanced definition of Satan as “the personification of all that is adversarial to the kingdom of God, the personified enemy of God” (page 8). On the other hand, I believe that Beck’s further insistence that spiritual warfare represents “the struggle to find room for both love and anger” to exist in the same heart to be very insightful. He offers us a realistic perspective on how both love and anger can and must be part of our hearts and minds if we are to live what Parker Palmer calls an undivided life.

I also agree with Beck regarding the importance of recognizing that the clash between Jesus and Satan is the central aspect of the gospels. Without that recognition, reading the gospel narratives become very problematic. The “narrative glue” is indeed provided by this clash. Also, in that clash within the narratives I think we see Jesus providing our example for how an emphasis on spiritual warfare yields less rather than more physical violence. I think Beck’s insights on this front alone make investing in this book worth the time and money.

Finally, I appreciated Beck’s emphasis on the demonic effects that a fear of death has on our lives. This fear of death severely cripples our ability to love in the face of the perceived scarcity we confront associated with the many forms that our anxiety takes. His examples of how the early church confronted this fear were very helpful.

In Stranger God, Beck describes the emotional battlefield where we face our feelings of disgust and revulsion as we seek to widen our circle of affection. In many ways, I think he is most effective in showing how this occurs in our lives when he tells stories from both his personal experiences at the prison where he helps to lead a bible study and in his church community. These stories provide powerful examples that support many of his points.

However, I think the best part of Stranger God is Beck’s clear description of Therese Lisieux’s Little Way. In describing this discipline, Beck paints a compelling picture to support his argument that the Little Way really can be a revolutionary means of transforming our individual and collective lives. His three-fold method for applying the Little Way in our lives (seeing, stopping, and approaching) does a very good job of capturing the essence of the Little Way in a manner to can be apprehended by almost anyone. In fact, I plan to suggest Beck’s book to others as a helpful primer prior to reading Therese’s book. Beck’s summary is better than any Cliff’s Notes presentation.

Finally, I found Beck’s emphasis in both books on the importance of the biblical narrative’s focus on spiritually changed hearts to be very clarifying. Each of the books pushes against much of Progressive Christianity’s reticence to address a needed, miraculous change in people’s hearts that springs from spiritual renewal. I believe that his insistence on the importance of linking personal holiness to our pursuit of systemic justice captures something that is seldom clearly addressed in discussions of how to positively transform the world.

Although I could not be more appreciative of both of these books, there are a small number of things I would have liked Beck to have done differently in each of them. In terms of Reviving Old Scratch, I think Beck’s readers would have been better served if in several places within the book he had engaged the thinking of Rene’ Girard on Mimetic Scapegoat Theory. Several of the sections in the book may have been a bit longer if he had done so; however, I think the added length would have been worth it. For instance, Girard captures much of what is behind the forces associated with the mob mentality that infects humanity – both the imitation and covetousness aspects. Both of these aspects filled the scene during the crucifixion of Jesus. In fact, on page 99 Beck references Colossians 2:15 where Paul refers to Jesus making a “public spectacle” of the authorities and powers. Engaging with Girard’s writing (particularly his I See Satan Falling) regarding this exposure aspect of the work of Jesus would have significantly enriched this book.

Secondly, in a few instances I wish Beck had been more precise or nuanced in his treatment of three different subjects. First of all, with respect to his use of the word “spiritual,” I wish he had defined what he means by spiritual rather than assuming a common definition. At times it seems that by “spiritual” he means immaterial; where at other times it seems that he means that aspect of our humanity in relationship with God (see pages 36 and 46). Secondly, I wish he had defined more clearly what he meant when he said that “Jesus wasn’t much of a political activist” (page 70). I think it would have been better if Beck had added the phrase “in our way of understanding political activism,” and then briefly described the political context of Jesus’ day where religion and politics were never separated. What Jesus did was to redefine how to engage politically around his own notion of kingdom (a very political term). Finally, when Beck contrasted strategy with tactics and referred to strategies as the tool of the powerful (page 177), I think he missed the value of strategies and how the two relate to each other. Strategies are what sit behind the tactical, regardless of whether those tactics are applied by the weak or the powerful.

With respect to Stranger God, in similar fashion to Reviving Old Scratch, I think on page 108, Beck’s readers would have benefited from engagement with the work of Rene’ Girard. This engagement would have brought a wider focus to the issues surrounding scapegoats, and the difficulty that the scapegoating tendency of societies brings to attempts at widening our affections towards strangers.

I also wish that Beck had been more nuanced in his statements regarding the church and racial and economic issues. Beck says that “early Christians struggled with the same social and socioeconomic biases that we struggle with today” (page 226). While I agree with the general sentiment that he is making, I think that our concepts of race are really a modern construct that is somewhat unknown to the ancient world of the early church. J. Kameron Carter’s Race: A Theological Account provides an excellent treatment of how Immanuel Kant’s early modern thinking gave rise to our current notions of race; and how that thinking of Kant and others has infected our churches today. Yes, the early church struggled with welcoming strangers and/or the other, but from within a different context. Adding a phrase that recognizes that difference would have been more accurate.

Finally, Beck concludes his book by saying “So maybe in all this Christian talk about love, we’ve set our sights too high. Maybe we’d be better able to welcome the stranger God if we got back to the smaller, humbler things. Hospitality – welcoming Jesus in disguise – begins with kindness, with widening the circle of our affections, living in the world as if there were no strangers…” (page 241). I think I understand what he is getting at; however, I think we would be better served with a richer, more robust definition of love. I don’t think setting our sights higher upon the aspiration of love is the problem. Our problem is that often our definitions of love don’t include the necessary building block of hospitality.