One matter that constantly perplexes me is just how difficult it is for young Christians today to figure out dating and romantic relationships. What was quite straightforward in my day seems to have become much more complicated in these days. But as I study the cultural ethos, it begins to make sense, for in my day the cultural assumptions and the Christian assumptions were quite similar. Today, though, they are worlds apart. Paul Grimmond expresses this helpfully in his book Water for My Camels. He lays out seven features of our modern Western context that impact dating in profound ways.

Marriage is simply a social construct. In the past few decades there has been a seismic shift in society’s understanding of marriage. Once understood to have originated in the mind of God as a component of his design for humanity, marriage is now believed to be a human-created social construct (and, in many minds, one designed as a tool of oppression). “Modern Western societies have essentially rejected the idea that God created and designed marriage, and that he therefore defines what it is and what it’s for. Instead, we now take the view that marriage is a social construct. That is, it’s seen as a human institution: we invented it, and we can therefore change it to be whatever we say it is.”
Sex is just an appetite. Where sex was formerly understood to belong within the institution of marriage and to be bound inexorably to procreation and marriage’s unique relational intimacy, today it is commonly regarded as merely a biological appetite. “If you’re hungry, find something to eat. If you’re thirsty, find something to drink. If you feel sexual drive, go and do something about it. And if sex is defined as an appetite, it’s only a short step further to say that sex is virtually morally irrelevant. We feel no shame or guilt for eating when we’re hungry or drinking when we’re thirsty, so why attach any morality to any sexual practices that flow from our sexual appetites?” Sex has been downgraded from something that is exceedingly precious to something that is just a meaningless bodily function.
Sex and dating are synonymous. The assumption today is that couples who date are having sex with one another. Hence where dating was once a means to an end—marriage and the sexual relationship within it—, today it is an end in and of itself. “This fusion of sex and dating is the cultural air that we breathe. But it’s a new innovation. This is the first time in human history that a society has joined these two things together. Sure, it may have happened on a private, individual level, but it was not the cultural expectation. Today, dating but not having sex is decidedly weird.”
Smartphones are great for relationships. “It’s hard to overstate the way smartphones have changed our lives—especially the lives of teenagers and some young adults who have never known a world without them. Among all the changes that these devices have brought, the smartphone has radically changed the dating experience in ways that you cannot comprehend if you’re under the age of 25.” Couples are no longer ever separate from one another, but always bound together by their devices. This means a dating relationship is constant and follows them everywhere. Not only that, but it often takes place through a private medium and in private or intimate spaces (e.g. late at night in bedrooms). It is hard to believe that this is always, or even often, a healthy dynamic.
Pornography is just harmless fun. While pornography has always existed in one form or another, it has certainly never been as prevalent and as accepted as it is today. It would be rare today to encounter a couple for whom it has not been a significant part of at least one of their lives. This is nearly as true for Christians as for unbelievers. “This is the only world that today’s teenagers know. The vast majority of teenagers and young adults have some kind of experience with pornography. Even if, by the grace of God, you’ve avoided any form of pornography, you’ve still grown up in a world that thinks of pornography as normal, a bit of ‘harmless fun’, when it is anything but normal, harmless or fun.” 
Choice is king. While Western culture is rampantly individualistic, we are unlikely to see or understand how unusual this is. Everything in our lives is a matter of choice and choice is the way in which we express our individuality. This impacts dating in a key way: “We have reached a point in history where, for most people, dating is a choice to be made independently of your social sphere; independently of your parents and your wider family.” Not only that, but our culture of individualism convinces us that we should evaluate relationships primarily through the lens of what that relationship does for me and how it makes me feel. This, of course, contrasts the biblical emphasis on looking outward to love and serve others.
If marriage doesn’t work, just end it. The era of no-fault divorce has made marriage function as a relationship of convenience that can be easily terminated when it is no longer enjoyable, no longer fulfilling, or just plain difficult. “No-fault divorce was part and parcel of a worldview that saw marriage as a human institution that the state was free to redefine. At that level, no-fault divorce represents a belief that marriage is not permanent. For most people living in the world around us, marriage is seen as something that creates stability (which is why so many couples still get married when they have children) and offers a powerful declaration of two people’s love for each other at that moment. But fundamentally, we live in a world where divorce is the solution for marriages that don’t work. Put bluntly, marriage is temporary for anyone who wants it to be temporary.”
Though these are secular ways of thinking about dating, marriage, sex, and relationships, they are so deeply ingrained in the culture that even Christians are impacted by them. They are such a part of the culture around us (and, sadly, within us) that it takes time, thought, and effort to identify and counter them—a key task for Christian leaders in the days to come.

I draw a deep breath and put pen to paper. But the words won’t flow. Not yet. I pause for a moment to gather my thoughts. I know I need to prepare an expression of sympathy, to write out a letter of condolence to a friend who has suffered a tragic loss. I want him to know my love, my support, my comfort in this, his hardest hour. I picture the one who lived and then died, who flourished for a time, but who was soon gone like the flowers that fade, like the dust that blows in the wind. And I see once again the fleeting nature of life.

Life is fleeting—fleeting like the dew that settles to the grass in the dark of night, but then burns away with the earliest heat of the morning.
Life is fleeting—fleeting like the leaves of the tree that open in the spring, that catch the light of the sun through the summer, but that fall to the ground in the first cool days of autumn.
Life is fleeting—fleeting like the lily that blooms in the darkness of night, that displays its beauty for a single day, but that by evening fades and wilts away. It is here today but gone tomorrow and its place knows it no more.
Life is fleeting—fleeting like the mist that rises in the cool morning air but is then blown away by the gentlest breeze. It is fleeting like the spring snow that falls from a cold sky but melts the moment it touches the warm ground. It is fleeting like a ship that fades into the distance and sails over the far horizon, fleeting like a train that rushes past with a roar and is gone. Scarcely do we draw our first breath before we draw our last. Scarcely do we open our eyes before we close them once more. Scarcely do we live before we die.
No wonder the Sage says, “If a person lives many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many. All that comes is vanity”—vapor, smoke, dust. There is a time to live and a time to die. But the time to live seems so short and the time to be dead so long.
Still I must believe that though life is fleeting, life is precious. Though life is over so soon, it matters so much. For though life ends, it continues, for though we sleep in the dust, we rise again. Time is bound to eternity. Hence, “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.” It is through life that we prepare for death and through the life we live in this world that we prepare for the life we will live in the next.
So life is precious—precious like the gold that adorned the temple where God’s people went to bow and to worship, to serve and to sacrifice.
Life is precious—precious like the blood spread hastily on the doorposts, the blood of the passover lamb that distinguished Israelite from Egyptian, objects of mercy from objects of wrath.
Life is precious—precious like the jewels upon the High Priest as he entered the Holy of Holies to sprinkle blood on the Atonement Seat, to seek God’s favor for another year.
Life is precious—precious like the pearl a merchant found that was of such great value that he sold all that he had to acquire it and regarded it as the best of all bargains. It is precious like treasure hidden in a field, precious like the gates of pearl in the New Jerusalem, precious like its streets of gold.
And so both are true and neither diminishes the other. Life is fleeting and fragile but precious and so very meaningful. Though it is short, it is significant. Though it inevitably ends, it matters so much. Though it is but a blip and a dash, it is of the highest worth.
And with that in mind, I can prepare an expression of sympathy that accounts for both the significance of a life lived and the tragedy of a life lost, for both the sorrow of a life that has ended and the joy of a life that will never end.

It has been a few years since I have had a substantial number of people reach out to ask my view on a particular author. Do you know anything about him? Have you read him? Would you consider reviewing some of his books? But after this break of a few years, it has recently begun anew with John Mark Comer. I, too, have heard his name and seen his books on the lists of bestsellers. Yet I had not read anything by him. Eventually, based on all the inquiries, I decided to buy and read his most recent title, Practicing the Way, which seems to be a kind of culmination of his earlier works.

Practicing the Way

There is often a certain degree of sameness to Christian publishing and, sure enough, I was only a few pages in before I thought, “Oh, we’ve been here before!” About twenty years ago many popular authors were discovering or rediscovering the traditions of the mystics and monastics. As they did so, they curtailed or dismissed certain aspects of traditional Protestantism in favor of elements drawn largely from Roman Catholicism. And in many ways, this is what Comer has done for a whole new generation of readers.
Practicing the Way has an understandable appeal. Comer focuses a lot of attention on some of the obvious and frustrating shortcomings of contemporary Evangelicalism. He addresses the common longing for a faith that is more substantial than what so many churches teach and more grounded in ancient practices. If you are living as a Christian and sometimes feel that there must be more to the faith than this, he wants to affirm that there is. I understand the appeal of an author who addresses the longing for more and who provides a neatly produced program you can follow—especially one that purports to meet the challenges of the modern world while drawing on the deep history of Christian practice. But, of course, much depends on the nature of that program.
Comer is a self-professed mystic and agrees with Karl Rahner who says, “The Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all.” He does not quite define the term other than saying it indicates “a disciple of Jesus who wants to experience spiritually what is true of them theologically,” but it generally indicates an expectation of receiving original and unmediated revelation from God. It is associated with practices like lectio divina, contemplative prayer, and with meditation, stillness, and silence—practices Comer endorses and regards as essential. He draws upon a broad group of thinkers and practitioners who come from Catholic, Greek Orthodox, and Quaker backgrounds and who are united primarily by their mysticism. This includes the ones well-read readers will probably expect: Dallas Willard, Richard Foster, Henry Nouwen, Brother Lawrence, and so on. Comer does add some other elements to his beliefs—a dose of charismatic theology (e.g. words of prophecy; deliverance from demons; speaking in tongues) and, what he is becoming known for—a Rule of Life. He also tells about the importance of at least one Jesuit spiritual director who has shaped and formed him. (And on that note it is probably worth remembering that the Jesuit order was founded specifically to counter the teachings of the Reformation and, therefore, to combat the Protestant faith—a purpose it has never revoked.)
Comer writes often about the gospel and expresses the importance of telling others about it. He is somewhat vague about the content of his gospel, though he makes it clear that it is not the gospel of Evangelical churches—a gospel of penal substitutionary atonement. He especially abominates the gospel of street preachers and its message of “repent of your sin so you won’t go to hell.” Rather, his gospel is something like “live like Jesus and live for Jesus so other people can become interested in Jesus.” In fact, the major divisions of his book, and hence the major themes of the Christian life, are: be with Jesus, become like him, and do as he did. While he includes a section about suffering for the gospel, I cannot see anything in his gospel that is offensive enough to earn the disapproval and hence persecution of others.
He begins the book with a lengthy section on what it meant to be one of the original disciples of Jesus, though he prefers the term “apprentice.” Here he draws heavily on early Rob Bell and Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus to teach what it meant for Jesus to be a rabbi and for his disciples to follow him in “the Way.” (He much prefers speaking of “the Way” then “the Christian faith” or “Christianity.”)
To be with Jesus is to essentially embrace the practices of mysticism, to turn abiding with God into a life-long and life-consuming practice—what some might call practicing the presence of God. It is to engage in lectio divina and contemplative prayer. It is to pray without words and to focus on mindfulness. It is to “practice the way” and, in the words of one of his previous books, “to ruthlessly eliminate hurry.”
To become like Jesus is to pursue spiritual formation. This is to rest in Christ in such a way that he transforms us from the inside out so that we become people of love. “This, then, is spiritual formation: the process of being formed into a person of self-giving love through deepening surrender to and union with the Trinity.”
To do as Jesus did is to live a life that imitates Jesus. It does not so much involve asking “What would Jesus do?” as “What would Jesus do if he was living my life?” This involves three rhythms: making space for the gospel, preaching the gospel, and demonstrating the gospel. “The gospel,” he says, “is that Jesus is the ultimate power in the universe and that life with him is now available to all. Through his birth, life, teachings, miracles, death, resurrection, ascension, and gift of the Spirit, Jesus has saved, is saving, and will save all creation. And through apprenticeship to Jesus, we can enter into this kingdom and into the inner life of God himself. We can receive and give and share in Love Loving. We can be a part of a community that Jesus is, ever so slowly, forming into a radiant new society of peace and justice that one day will co-govern all creation with the Creator, in an eternity of ever-unfolding creativity and growth and joy. And anyone can be a part of this story.” To demonstrate this gospel is to live it out through healing, deliverance from demonic forces, prophecy, and justice.
How do we ensure that we are doing this? Through a Rule of Life, a term that is gaining a fair bit of traction today. The book culminates in a substantial section that teaches how to understand and implement it. Rule of Life is a Benedictine practice that, taken in isolation, is simple enough and perhaps even useful. It is less a rule and more a set of disciplines—disciplines customized to the individual or community that provide guidance and restraint so Christians can live meaningful and satisfying lives. It may include devotional habits, limitations on the use of devices, and the practice of a sabbath. Comer’s version of it is notable for what it includes and excludes. It includes mystical and charismatic practices, for example, and excludes the evangelistic proclamation of the gospel and explicit direction about feeding the mind or growing in understanding of Christian doctrine.
It also seems to exclude what we might understand as a traditional local church. Comer is clear that Christianity is meant to be pursued in community and in a type of community different from Evangelical or Reformed churches, but offers little guidance on what this might look like. I suspect, though, that it is similar to the communities so many people tried to build in the era of what became known as the Emerging Church—a movement that drew upon many of the same thinkers and treasured many of the same values. While he often mentions the church he has founded so that he and others can practice the Way, he provides few details about it.
If you, like me, were reading Christian books 20 or 25 years ago, much of this will sound familiar, and rightly so. I would not necessarily say that Comer is creating Emergent 2.0, but I do see that he is advocating something that expresses similar concerns and rejects similar components of Evangelicalism, and something that shares similar influences and is built on a similar foundation. It would seem likely to me, then, that it will eventually trend in a similar direction and suffer a similar fate—becoming first sub-biblical, then unbiblical, and then altogether unrecognizable as a faithful expression of the Christian faith. I hope that I am wrong but, frankly, would be surprised if that proves true. Feel free to circle back in 10 or 15 years and call me out as necessary.
That’s not to say that Comer doesn’t offer any legitimate critiques or valuable insights or that he fails to teach any useful practices. There is much in his book that is true and useful. Yet there is much that is false and unhelpful and therefore much to be concerned about. I am especially concerned that people who feel that longing for more—that sense that there must be more to the Christian life than this—will allow their disquiet to draw them into his teachings, into his practices, and ultimately, perhaps, right out of recognizable Christianity. What he offers is not merely a different perspective on the Christian life or an alternate set of practices, but a different gospel and ultimately a different faith.
I would suggest great caution with Comer’s teaching and urge you to count the cost of embracing it.Share
Thus, I would suggest great caution with Comer’s teaching and urge you to count the cost of embracing it. As I understand it, if you follow his counsel and adopt his teaching, your life will need to change, your understanding of theology will (probably) need to change, your practice of devotion will need to change, your church will need to change, and your gospel will need to change. It is not overstating the matter that almost the whole of your life will need to become different. You will need to reject much of what you believe and practice in order to embrace new beliefs, new priorities, new convictions, and new practices. The cost, I’d say, is high. Too high.