Full disclosure: my mother taught Brian Fikkert to play piano. What's more, I remember his mom as being a terrific teacher, his father as a beloved pastor with deadpan humor he loved to wield. What’s more, the writer himself was once a student of mine—in one class, a writing class. He's a graduate of the institution I was a part of for more than forty years.
And one of its stars, one of our stars, I should add. When he got into Yale to do graduate work, no one was surprised, so decidedly had he shown his gifts throughout his undergrad years. All of that needs to be said before I tell you that I really did love reading his book.
He’s become something of a presence within the evangelical world, in part because he has taken on the church work-group industry. I just happened to read in this month’s congregational magazine how our youth group is fund-raising for this summer’s work-group project in London, Ontario, Canada, a place where there are plenty of our own denomination’s churches already. What's more, in the last couple years I've been with Ontario youth groups working right here. Make sense? Most people see work-group forays as tran-sactional—we give our love away, and in return we get a buzz while we’re out there.
And there’s this. If our kids spend a week painting cracked walls on the Rosebud Reservation, they at least get to a place they certainly wouldn’t have seen otherwise. We send kids near and far, in large part, for our buzz, not so much for what treasures of love they leave behind. Brian Fikkert has opened up some soft spots in such hallowed missional endeavors, done it gently but well, using his own expertise as an economist.
In Becoming Whole: Why the Opposite of Poverty Isn’t the American Dream, Fikkert uses the effective tools that graduate education gave him to locate and define the myriad, difficult sources of poverty, and then proceeds to do the work he and his co-writer, Kelly Kapic, promised in the sub-title, illustrating exactly why, for followers of Jesus, “the American Dream” is not life with the Lord, something most of us know but need to fight hard not to forget.
He’s strong and convincing in those parts of the book, establishing that effective poverty fighting can’t be done out of what he and Kapic call “western naturalism,” a worldview that never really approaches “the spiritual,” but chooses instead to measure growth in bucks, in purely economic terms.
But they also deconstruct what they see and call as “evangelical gnosticism,” a worldview that clearly separates “the spiritual” from the affairs of this world, investing totally instead in an all-encompassing dedication to the great beyond, the joys of heaven, a view my own profs, years ago called “world flight.”
But Fikkert and Kapic tread hesitantly over the land mines set in the polarized battlefields all around, especially by way of our politics. They’re not in the least un-American, but they regard flag-waving nationalism as idolatry. They’re conscious of the fact that many of their readers are evangelicals who likely hold strong views over such things. Especially in those arguments in which offense could be taken, they wear kid gloves, which is nice, thoughtful.
The real answer to all our problems is offered in the final section of the study, when the argument they forward is quite traditional—if you want to fight poverty, they say, get people into church. What they say and how they say it is, thankfully, greatly more nuanced, but that’s the direction of things taken in this fine read.
It’s the conventional answer, of course. Even 19th century missionaries who knew nothing about the culture they found themselves in would have said the same thing—starving people need the church.
Whether or not that’s always true is a question that’s beget whole libraries of arguments, and how it is accomplished is just as weighty and difficult to determine. The problem with giving the traditional answer is not that it’s wrong, but that it’s traditional. I must admit my attention flagged through the final section, if for no other reason than it’s increasingly difficult to make that argument when “the church” is as divided as it finds itself these days. Arguing that it’s where humankind needs to be is a tough demand when the church itself is a battleground.
Bottom line: this is a wonderful book for Christians who sit in pews (or chairs) on both sides of the aisle. It establishes clearly and convincingly that dealing with the effects of poverty is not an easy task. That’s a tough truth to communicate these nationalistic days.
What Mom’s old piano student is doing is exemplary. She’d be very proud, even though she might have considered some of the analysis just a bit left field.
Becoming Whole should be required reading for every work group heading out this summer—and then some, and most certainly their leaders.