Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream, by David Platt

My friend Christina recently returned from a mission trip to Central America, where she and her husband joined a group building simple ovens for families who live as their ancestors have for centuries, cooking over an open pit in their hillside hovels.  She mentioned this book to me as an inspiration for how they were seriously reconsidering and altering their lifestyle.  Upon that recommendation, I was eager to see what this book is all about.

I must say I came away with mixed feelings.  Early on in Radical, David Platt describes himself as the "youngest megachurch pastor in the United States," making me cringe in response to his humility, or lack of.  Throughout the book, he describes his struggles, what a tough life he has, trying to downsize from his big house, dealing with his big church, leading his wealthy congregation.  As he challenges his readers to downsize and rearrange priorities, he seems to suffer from a lack of perspective.

That said, his challenges are still valid and, well, challenging.  Platt calls on American Christians (of course some of this would apply to all Christians, but his particular target is a complacent American church) to live more radically committed to Jesus.  A worthy message, to be sure!  But has there ever been a generation of Christians that didn't need to hear?  The only ones who come to mind are those who are or who have been persecuted.  Platt has spent time in communities of persecuted Christians around the world.  The stories he tells certainly inspired me to take my faith more seriously and to be thankful that we live in a free country with endless resources for Christian growth and worship.

When Platt began venturing into the world of economics, I braced myself.  The subtitle implies that the "American Dream" is incompatible with genuine Christianity, and his text supports that stance.  Whenever preachers start talking about economics, it's bound to get ugly.  It's true that American Christians can afford to live more simply and give more generously, but Platt's examples and exposition imply that Jesus wants all of us to sell our houses and quit our jobs.  But where does it stop?  If I live in a 6000 s.f. house, I should downsize to a 3000 s.f. house, right?  But 3000 sf is bigger than what most people in the world live in, so I guess I should look for a 1800 s.f. house.  I happen to live in a house that's less than 2000 s.f.  It suits my family of 5, and doesn't seem extravagant, but it's more than many people have.  Should I put it on the market?  (Maybe there's some radical Christian who is looking to downsize from his 5000 sf house and would like to buy mine.)  And beyond the house, what about your personal spending.  Eating out twice a week?  You could feed a family for a year on that money in some parts of the world.  That $100 pair of shoes?  Someone is going without a home.  That $3 cup of coffee?  You just drank someone's week's worth of groceries.

The money you spent on that lovely fountain?  Could have provided clean water for thousands of people with dysentery in the third world.

The money you spent on that spiffy sanctuary?  Could have built dozens of churches in Africa.

Similarly, what about quitting one's job?  To be sure, many Christians have quit their jobs to follow Jesus and serve in various capacities.  In my opinion, Platt sets this up as the norm, at least implicitly.  But what about the professional who uses his unique skills and resources in more secular ways?  There's nothing explicitly spiritual about performing surgery, trading stocks, or arguing a case in court.  But those jobs can be done in such a way to bring glory to God.  What about someone who owns a small business?  He provides jobs for his employees, adding to the economy.  Or the manufacturer who produces goods for others' use?  If these people walked away from their jobs in order to serve the poor or become a missionary, what would they be taking away from the livelihood of others?  What contributions would their fields of expertise be missing out on?  In Platt's view, missions and work among the poor are higher callings than so-called secular work.  I heartily disagree.

And what about the clock-puncher, who doesn't have the resources to leave his job?  No big 401K to cash in, no big house to sell.  He has to live on something if he quits to be a radical follower of Jesus.  He can just pray that the doctors and executives and business owners in his church stay in their jobs long enough to contribute to his cause.  The problem is, I am confident Platt would agree: Of course not everyone is called to quit their job or sell everything and give it to the poor!  But his book implies that to do so is the highest calling, the norm, and the path of the radical.  I was reminded of what Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck wrote in Why We Love the Church (my review here).  The younger generation, DeYoung and Kluck argue, is "prone to radicalism without follow through."  It might not seem radical, they argue, "to be a line worker at GM with four kids and a mortgage, who tithes to his church, sings in the praise team every week, serves on the school board, and supports a Christian relief agency and a few missionaries from his disposable income," but such a lifestyle reflects a "long obedience in the same direction" and can be just as much a lifestyle of submission to God as Platt's radical Christian.

My biggest problem with Platt's book is his guilt mongering.  You're not giving enough, your house is too big, you're not spending enough time evangelizing, you're too self-centered, you're not serving Jesus in your job enough.  All of which may be true.  But Platt leaves the reader with a feeling of "I've got to do more! More! More!" without a good set of principles or guidelines for making judgments about how much more.  To me this seems pedantic and irresponsible.

OK, that all sounds vitriolic and maybe a bit defensive.  Fact is, I know I'm not giving enough, I know my house is plenty big, I'm not spending any time evangelizing, I am too self-centered, and I'm not serving Jesus in my job!  So I will end this review on a positive note.  Even though Platt made me a bit angry and I grew frustrated by his undisciplined exposition, he did challenge me to think about where my life is and what about it, if anything, is directed toward serving Jesus.

He ends the book with a challenge he calls The Radical Experiment.  For one year, he challenges the reader:

• To pray for the entire world
• To read through the entire Word
• To commit our lives to multiplying community
• To sacrifice our money for a specific purpose
• To give our time in another context

In fact, these are not radical things to do, but should be normal for Christians.  That's where we are as a church: what should be normal is viewed as radical.  Or, again, is that always how it is for Christians?  The radical ones are the ones who are actually doing what they're supposed to do?  (Remember when The Door magazine named Mother Theresa Loser of the Month, because she receives such accolades for doing what a nun is supposed to be doing?  Of course you don't remember, because that magazine had a readership of about 500 which is why it's no longer published!)

So in spite of my problems with Radical, when I finished reading my mind (dare I say my spirit?) was racing with how its message might apply to my life.  My life is far from radical.  My heart is far from sold out to following Jesus.  But Platt has planted some seeds and pushed me along, forcing me not only to reflect on where my Christian life stands now, but to think about what I'm going to do about it.