A self-righteous, "I'm not part of the system" manifesto that advocates helping (and joining) the poor as the main purpose of Christianity and condemns all war and wealth… and that may have a point.
If you can get past the gut “this is crazy talk!” reaction, this book will definitely make you think (or, if you’re already a down-on-the-church hipster, it will give you plenty of catchy ammunition to back up your discontent). The main problem is that most of the good points are so over-stated (probably in an effort to break through complacency) that they border on the obviously false.
For example, there is a pretty pervasive disdain for heaven and a constant implication that any kind of eternally-focused Christianity is lame compared to a heaven-on-earth focused Christian activism. "We were not interested in a Christianity that offered these families only mansions and streets of gold in heaven when all they wanted was a bed for their kids now." and "As my teacher Tony Campolo used to ask, "Even if there were no heaven and there were no hell, would you still follow Jesus? Would you follow him for the life, joy, and fulfillment he gives you right now?" I am more and more convinced each day that I would." Claiborne does say he's excited about the afterlife, but he really harps on the old "it's not just pie in the sky by and by" case to make the point that Christians are ignoring God’s kingdom on earth (which, a lot of the time, we are). This is a valid point: "...Jesus came not just to prepare us to die but to teach us how to live." But it’s easy (and especially common for people my age) to take the scorn-for-heaven tone to extremes. The Bible is pretty clear that eternity is the point "If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied", and forgetting this can lead to trying to create heaven on earth rather than trying to be faithful to God. As C.S. Lewis wrote in the guise of Screwtape: "Once you have made the World an end, and faith a means, you [the tempter] have almost won your man."
Another example: scorn for intentional evangelism in favor of an ‘organic’, ‘grass-roots’, love-them-until-they-convert-themselves approach. "Sometimes we have evangelicals (usually from the suburbs) who pretentiously ask how we "evangelize people." I usually tell them that we bring folks like them here to learn the kingdom of God from the poor, and then send them out to tell the rich and powerful there is another way of life being born in the margins.". The point that follows is the classic 'no one cares how much you know until they know how much you care’. Do some Christians have a problem with throwing the words of the gospel at people without actually loving them? With treating the gospel like a sales pitch? Yes… a very few do. Many, many more have the problem of not evangelizing at all, and for those (including me), the “verbal-evangelism-is-for-newbs” attitude becomes the perfect excuse. We say, “I don’t want to push it on people,” or “I need to start a relationship first,” or “I try to let my life be a witness to people”… and we think this excuses us from actually, literally telling people about Jesus. The apostles were definitely willing to tell people about Christ (and sin)... even people they didn't know and hadn't befriended, fed, or helped physically.
There is a lot in the book about pacifism. There’s no real “pacifism is the way because of A, B, and C” proof (more of a tacit assumption that all violence is bad (“the myth that violence can be an instrument for good”), peppered with a few of Jesus’ statements about not taking revenge and without addressing other Biblical statements about violence). But proving pacifism isn’t the point. What this book does do is make you think carefully about your assumptions, bringing the reality of war and violence close enough to remind you that actual families and people are being maimed and killed when bombs are dropped.
There is also a lot in the book about the poor. Helping the poor, living with the poor, and caring for the poor seems to be what Claiborne cares about most. This is good in some ways, because poverty is probably the thing that the church tends to care about least (to our chagrin). We should care about the poor more, provide more for them, help them more, spend more time with them. This is undeniable. And while I believed this was true before reading The Irresistible Revolution, the book stretched me. While it did make quite a few assumptions that seem like pretty naïve zero-sum economics (like if the rich just shared what they had, poverty would be ended “what is crazier: one person owning the same amount of money as the combined economies of twenty-three countries, or suggesting that if we shared, there would be enough for everyone?”)*, it forced me not to be completely dismissive of the possibility that we may have a personal and societal obligation to the poor… that “the system” may have some fault. His quote of Martin Luther King Jr. sums it up best, “We are called to be the Good Samaritan, but after you lift so many people out of the ditch you start to ask, maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be repaved.”. Whether this is through government and societal changes, or through the transformative power of Christ, I think it’s true (although it doesn’t excuse us from continuing to lift people out of the ditch while the road is still broken).
*This would only be true if all the rich were saintly enough to work just as hard to get money for other people as they do for themselves, and if all the poor were saintly enough to work just as hard when someone is giving them money as they do when someone is not.
Finally, Claiborne has some great self-awareness. He sees some of the negative aspects / temptations of his brand of Christianity (a tendency towards hipsterism and church-bashing that can become just as useless to God’s kingdom as the institutions it despises). “I saw very little fruit from those days,” he says. “My ripped jeans and punk rock hair made me feel pleasantly distant from the “filthy rotten system,” but I also found myself estranged from sincere folks who were polarized by the way we preached the truth… I began to feel a self-righteousness mirroring that of conservative Christianity... I handed out flyers to convert people to the movement and felt as coercive and detached as I did handing out Christian tracts at the mall… it is our love for God and our neighbor—not our rage or our arrogance—that counts.”.
I think Claiborne really does love the church, and he’s mature enough to see past the initial anger at our problems and try really hard to become the solution. For that, and for encouraging me to put my money (and time, and safety) where my mouth is when it comes to loving my neighbor, I applaud him.