LOVED your answer to this, Denis, and thank you Bethany for asking! Like everyone I've been inundated with people who've loved the book but had decided not to read it. There are so many GREAT books that are praiseworthy and GOOD that I'd rather spend time delving into them as well. Loved your explanation of developing discernment. Thanks for posting!

Thanks for the response, Denis. I appreciate you taking the time to answer in such detail.

As I've thought more about this, I realize that the thing that frustrates me is that my friends aren't being completely undiscerning - they will readily admit that the book is riddled with untruth and flaws - but they still say one should read the book and gloss over those flaws. It's a different mindset than I am used to encountering in Christians (which generally tends toward the extreme of consuming mindless, "of course there's nothing wrong in this, it's just for fun," or the other extreme of not touching anything "secular" because it's full of worldliness), and as such, I was a bit nonplussed as to how to respond. I agree that the issue is not so much the book itself, but the mindset of how one is consuming culture.

My husband and I have actually tossed around the idea of doing some sort of movie discussion group with friends from church in order to talk about how to practice discernment. It may have to wait til next summer, but I am sure we'll be drawing heavily upon Ransom Fellowship resources when the time comes. I led one such group at our college's RUF for a year, and it was definitely an interesting exercise.

Thanks again for your response!

I was very glad to come across this at this time. I'm in the process of reading 'The Shack' with some friends and looking forward to the discussion we'll be having in a couple of weeks. This has helped greatly in focusing my thoughts as I read.

No doubt this is an old and tiresome topic by now, Denis, but I've only just had my copy of The Shack from the library's waiting list, and so I couldn't comment until now. I was very surprised that you dismissed it as unworthy of your time, not because I expected the content to be of importance to you personally or because it is even remotely excellent as literature, but because it is obviously tapping into a spiritual hunger in so many readers.

As was mentioned in a previous comment on your blog, The Shack is a theodicy, but I found it to be first and foremost a theodicy of the heart. While it may be a mistake to divorce analytical reasoning from the discernment process, it’s also a mistake to believe that reason can heal a broken human heart. And that healing process is the central task of the story.

The main character of The Shack – Mack -- is a seminary graduate. He knows all the theological arguments about good and evil. But when faced with the death of his child, his theology cannot staunch the pain, sorrow, and anger flooding his heart. His devastation makes it very hard to believe the most important theological truth of all – that God is love.

I think that many, many of us can empathize with Mack’s story, and let’s face it, the Church’s response to such moments in our lives is often woefully inadequate. Unlike the psalms of the Bible, which express a full range of unfiltered human emotion, churches have generally become places where it’s not safe to be so honest about our emotions toward God. Their pat-but-doctrinally-correct answers do nothing to allay the deep fear that perhaps God cannot be trusted after all. Even worse, God’s love becomes abstracted to the level of any human ruler’s “love” for the citizens of his/her country. That is small comfort to a wounded heart.

So author William (Paul) Young painstakingly crafted a story about a God who bends over backward to accommodate Mack’s need to experience a deep and abiding love, even if it means showing up as a woman to detach the image of God from Mack's experience of an abusive human father. The story makes it clear: the female personification is only a tool, not an expression of God's nature, just as a burning bush or the lion of Judah is not an exhaustive representation of God. What that female form does convey beautifully is a God who is “especially fond” of Mack.

I loved that phrase and its relentless repetitions throughout the story. It reminded me of an acquaintance who never complimented my cooking with polite remarks about “a lovely meal” but said simply, “This is yummy.” You can’t question the sincerity of “yummy.” “Especially fond” similarly cuts through any stiff notions of a remote God’s “love” to reveal a highly personal, authentic, deep-hearted affection. It strikes me as the very sort of affection that Jesus offered Zaccheus and the woman who washed his feet with her tears. It’s not fluff. It’s transformational.

For the most part, I think that Young did a decent job of creating a story to illustrate that affection. I was delighted that he also portrayed such affection within the Trinity. I enjoyed his disarmingly creative and humorous efforts to flesh out what I learned from Francis Schaeffer’s writings long ago – that love’s ultimate frame of reference is found in the relationships within the Trinity. That’s not fluff, either. In fact, it’s rather orthodox theology.

Unfortunately, Young did superimpose too many theological explanations over the story line, and that’s where some Christian readers' hackles rise. It’s too bad he didn’t have a better editor who might have pointed out that the story wasn’t enriched by dwelling on the essence of the Trinity (which will always suck a person into hopelessly deep water) or by statements that lean toward universalism. (And let’s be fair. He only leans. A true universalist would cringe over his persistent emphasis on Jesus and take offense at God’s wry comment that “most [spiritual] paths don’t lead anywhere.”) I myself am willing to allow Young some theological license (even to the point of making what I perceive to be mistakes) because in reality every writer’s theology will ruffle the feathers of some other Christian. What offends a Baptist is dogma to a Lutheran, and vice versa. As books like Across the Spectrum or The Mosaic of Christian Belief make clear, there is tremendous doctrinal diversity within the earthly kingdom of God. I sometimes suspect that Jesus promised to be present wherever two or three gather in his name because he knew we would always need a referee.

So I think there’s a balance to be struck. I'm aware that I have the luxury of granting Young some doctrinal leeway because I do have a solid doctrinal foundation for my faith. Stretching a respected boundary line is very different from having no boundaries at all. I understand how The Shack could be transformational for people who have been fed far more doctrine than love when they were most desperate for spiritual meaning (and that’s lots of people), while it could also be very misleading for someone who wants a purely experiential Christianity without any definitive doctrine (and that’s also lots of people). If that's true, I think it's very important that discerning Christians are leading groups to discuss The Shack, because what happens AFTER you read it (i.e., how it contributes to your ongoing theology) depends so much on your context.

One of the most intriguing comments I found in the Amazon customer reviews of The Shack was this question: "Has our theology become so dry that we have to invent completely new metaphors to convey a God who cares?" Obviously for many readers of The Shack, the answer is a resounding "yes!" The Church ought to be concerned about why that is so.

Thanks so much for taking the time to write.

Beckye, I appreciate the kind words. I was glad I had the opportunity to explain some of what I mean by "discernment." It's easy to use the word and assume everyone understands it the same way, but that may not be true.

Bethany. Thanks again for starting this whole discussion. You raised excellent ideas. And I pray you might be able to find creative ways to help your friends grow in discernment--and to get past their mistaken ideas of what that entails.

Ron, glad what I wrote was helpful.

Sue, this isn't an old topic, as long as it is relevant to what people are living through and thinking about--so I'm glad you wrote.

Two brief comments on what you wrote, Sue:

First, when an author writes fiction to explore something of the nature of God and his relationship with his creation, it is proper for readers to ask whether the perspective that author develops resonates with reality/truth. Of course no metaphor fits the reality it pictures perfectly, but that doesn't mean that what metaphor is chosen is thereby up for grabs. From what you have written, it sounds as if some of the theological aspects of this book are, shall we say, sloppy. Sloppy fiction may still speak to us, and may even be a conduit for healing, but that does not excuse sloppiness. I yearn for writers who can spin stories as fantastical as Tolkien yet with a fidelity to truth and reality that takes the breath away.

And second, you expressed surprise that I "dismissed it as unworthy" of my time, which is not what I meant. I can not read all the worthy books or watch all the worthy films that are released, and must therefore be careful to select carefully. The Shack may be very worthy of my time, but it is time I believe my calling requires me to give to other things. Sorry I did not communicate more clearly.

There is no mistaking that The Shack has had a profound and genuine impact on many in spite of the book's serious weaknesses, not the least of which is... it's just not great writing. That Eugene Peterson would liken it to Pilgrim's Progress is... well... words fail me. The best I can hope for since I love Peterson is that he endorsed it without really reading it... which got Packer into hot water when he endorsed Peter Kreeft's Ecumenical Jihad 15 years ago. All of that to say: can we respond with gratitude that God uses imperfect means? I hope so since he uses us. But recognition is not commendation -- in good conscience (with appreciation for how folks may have been brought to faith or found healing) I cannot recommend the book. I do believe I have an obligation to give an honest assessment if asked. However, I feel no need to campaign against it. Bottom line - I just don't recommend it.

However, pastorally I think The Shack offers an important object lesson that I would be wise not to overlook. I suspect that the impact of the book is not at the theological level per se (the doctrinal information it teaches) but at the personal and affective level in that readers somehow feel a connection between God and the deep hurts of their lives -- the reality, the assuring sense that God has not abandoned them and that he continues to care for them, even meeting with them in the deep hurts and inexplicable sorrows of life... is powerful and life-changing. I'm genuinely glad for folks to know that and believe it. But the object lesson is this -- am I content to teach information about God, or am I willing to wrestle with the messy realities of life with folks who struggle to believe and have hope. The impact of the incarnational character of the book should be a kick in the butt to me as a pastor to make sure I'm not living in my head if I really want people's lives to be gripped with and transformed by the Gospel.