FROM THE AUTHORS
Let me assure any of you [who read The Shack] that all three of us who worked on this book are deeply committed followers of Jesus Christ who have a passion for the Truth of the Scriptures and who have studied and taught the life of Jesus over the vast majority of our lifetimes. But none of us would begin to pretend that we have a complete picture of all that God is or that our theology is flawless. We are all still growing in our appreciation for him and our desire to be like him, and we hope this book encourages you to that process as well. In the end, this says the best stuff we know about God at this point in our journeys. Is it a complete picture of him? Of course not! Who could put all that he is into a little story like this one? But if it is a catalyst to get thousands of people to talk about theology—who God is and how he makes himself known in the world—we would be blessed.[1]
REVIEWER’S INTRODUCTION
The story line of The Shack, written by William P. Young, is a compelling fictional tale, read by millions. Mack’s daughter, Missy, is abducted and murdered by a serial killer while on a family camping trip. After an extensive search for her body, the authorities find a blood-soaked dress in an old abandoned shack situated high in the mountains. Mack and his family are devastated, so much so that their spiritual and physical malaise is described as The Great Sadness.
Some time after the murder, Mack gets a mysterious letter in the mail signed “Papa,” requesting his presence at, guess where, the shack. His journey to the shack opens up the possibility of really knowing and trusting God (Papa) for the first time and of putting the tragedy of Missy's death behind him. But first, Mack must come face-to-face with the Trinity, for it's they (all three) who lovingly facilitate the healing. Herein rests the beauty, the creativity, and, yes, even the downside of the book.
Part I will focus on the downside; Part II on what I believe is redeeming about Young’s work. Let’s make clear from the start, however, that my criticisms of The Shack do not render its message a fatal blow. Young does have something wonderful to say. And I am a thankful recipient, as Part II will show. But like the rest of us, and as his co-writers admit in the excerpt above, their theology is not perfect. Nor is mine, I might add, so please keep that in mind as I critically offer a review.
A "heads up"..... Part I is by nature a little more complex; Part II a little less technical. (Pastor Richardson)
Part I.
WHAT I FIND TROUBLING IN THE SHACK
Mack's View of the "Church"
The biography of a writer may sometimes provide clues about what he or she wants to say in print. William P. Young’s bio is a case in point. Since Young has left organized religion, according to his own accounts,[2] then it raises the question as to whether Mack, the main character in The Shack, will follow suit.
The quick answer is "Yes.” Young passes on to Mack a palpable, and quite articulate I might add, distrust of organized religion. The problem with religion is plain: Church (and seminaries) don't work; they don't change lives for good. So obviously the God that they espouse must not be the real McCoy. Nowhere is this fakery more poignantly seen than in the hypocrisy of Mack's father, a churchman indeed, but one utterly bereft of the spirit of Christ. Mack's spiritual ailments can thus be directly traced to the pretentions of church life, as epitomized by his father. And if guilt can be assigned to the pandemic presence of rote and vacuous religion, then the leading candidates are, hands down, the church and her cousin, the seminary. No wonder Mack feels so “uncomfortable” in the pew.(10)
Yet as Mack deals with the loss of his beloved Missy, his first impulse is to find refuge in the church. But he can't. Why? Because the church has lost what she always claimed to have but perhaps never did--the ability to inspire, and through inspiration, to heal the soul. And because he can’t find empirical data to suggest otherwise, Mack sticks with his suspicion that institutional religion offers little when it comes to dealing with the vagaries of life. It's hardly inconsequential, then, that the turning point in the book pivots on just this issue--the inadequacy of the church. One gets a sense of Mack's antipathy when, at his most desperate hour, when he needs answers the most, the church fails to deliver.
Mack knew that he needed some answers. He realized he was stuck, and Sunday
prayers and hymns weren’t cutting it anymore, if they ever really had. Cloistered
spirituality seemed to change nothing in the lives of the people he knew, except maybe
Nan….[Mack] was sick of God and God’s religion, sick of all the little religious social
clubs that didn’t seem to make any real difference or affect any real changes.[3]
Sadly, the most conspicuous example of Mack’s distrust of the church is found in how his Great Sadness is resolved. It’s not resolved within the confines of a loving community of fellow-believers (i.e. the church), but rather within the confines of a isolated encounter with the Trinity--inside of all things, an old abandoned shack.
For this reader, this is a regrettable feature in the book. The church, God’s bride, is at best a tangential concern and at worst an object of derision. The chance to depict the church as God’s body on earth is sadly missing. Such a vacuum gives the appearance of forcing God to come and take matters into his own hands--an Incarnation redux of sorts. And why not, given the church's spiritual ineptness?
So with the church on the blink, Mack has no recourse but to find God on his own. The shack is not just a building; it represents Mack's last ditch effort to understand God. One can only wonder how the book might have evolved had the author sought a solution for The Great Sadness within the four walls of a vibrant church rather than in an old run-down shack. Yes, the resolution could have occurred in either place, and there were good reasons for it to occur in the shack, but one can’t help but wonder if the author’s prejudices against the church left him no other alternative than to seek solace in isolation rather than in community. Sure, one might argue that Mack experienced true community for the first time as he saw the Trinity in action. But that begs the question: Why not just throw out the church altogether in favor of a one-on-one with God?
Regarding what Mack thinks of seminary, the answer appears to be, “Not much.” (9, 65, 91) And by insinuation, Papa's not real thrilled either. Where else could Mack have gotten all of those ill-placed religious stereotypes? (93) It may be the case that Young bites the hand that nurtured his theological curiosity. I have nothing but praise for his efforts at doing theology, but find it disconcerting that he disparages the seminary experience when in fact his book could not have taken the form it did without it. The Shack is compelling precisely because Young’s stint in seminary provided him with the critical tools to build a story line around, of all things, theology.
One would hope that the author has not reached the conclusion that God is best experienced apart from the institutions whose charter it is to promulgate His story. If that’s the case, then The Shack promotes an “individualistic” theology rather than one practiced corporately. And its tenor is just as much a polemic against mainline religion as it is a constructive portrayal of personal redemption. Criticizing the church is one thing (and of course sometimes necessary), but dismissing its vital role in salvation history leaves one with the impression that Mack not only needs to forgive his drunken father and the man who murdered his daughter but the church as well.
If and when he writes a sequel to The Shack, it might be appropriately entitled The Church. And in Mack’s mailbox might be a letter signed by Papa with the address of a local (and loving) congregation. After all, the beautiful fellowship within the Trinity is supposed to make its way into believers at the local level. Right? I hope Mack hasn’t left readers the impression that it never does?
Young, in my opinion, doesn’t do the church any big favors. And calling her a part of the "trinity of terrors" (179) leaves little doubt about how painful the author's experiences in the pew must have been.
Mack rules out hierarchy
Young stresses the co-equality of each person within the Trinity to the exclusion of a functional hierarchy that is revealed in history, believing the two are mutually exclusive. In other words, if the triune God is absolutely equal, then according to Young’s view, there cannot ( or should not) exist a subordinate or hierarchical arrangement within the Godhead—ever. Any suggestion to the contrary is detrimental to the free, mutual, and loving relationships among the three divine persons. Young's trinitarian language evinces what some theologians call a "social Trinity," where eternally the Godhead exists in a social state of mutual indwelling and equality , which rules out any arrangement where one person within the Godhead might have authority over another.
Young, therefore, rejects any idea of authority or submission within the Godhead. (122) The idea reeks of oppression and superiority to him. In order to support his view, he has Jesus take the “anti-hierarchy” position and Mack its opposite—that hierarchical arrangements are an intractable part of life. “Isn’t there a chain of command within the Godhead,” Mack asks. “Don’t all things, people, and institutions operate within a ‘power’ model?” (122)[4]
Jesus (speaking for Young) says in response:
Once you have a hierarchy you need rules to protect and administer it, and then you need law and the enforcement of the rules, and you end up with some kind of chain of command or a system of order that destroys relationship rather than promotes it. You rarely see or experience relationship apart from power. Hierarchy imposes laws and rules and you end up missing the wonder of relationship that we intend for you.” (122-23)
Let’s now do some analysis. Young takes the human model of hierarchy, with all of its corruptions, and allows it to dictate what the Trinity can and cannot be. Since the human model is broken, it follows for Young that there can be no justification for finding hierarchy within the Godhead. And since hierarchical abuses are prevalent among us humans, would it not be a ghastly thing to find it within the Godhead?—or so the thinking goes. Young imbibes the common response to power gone bad by making sure that God is not responsible for it by having it show up first in His own life. This is a mistaken methodology of working from what we experience in the world and super-imposing it on the Trinity.[5]
Young misses a great opportunity to show that hierarchy is indeed found within the Godhead.[6] But the ‘chain of command,’ as it were, flows freely, lovingly, without coercion and manipulation, and with a determined kind of purpose that seeks only the highest possible good for each person within the Godhead.
But that’s not all. Yes, the Trinity contains hierarchy, but hierarchy within a communion of steadfast and reciprocal love, and with the caveat that any and all manner of subordination is strictly carried out as the means of achieving salvation for humanity. Hierarchy is thus a means to a great end. What God “orders” the Son to do is carried out dutifully by the Son with no thought on the Son’s part of anything other than the goal of redemption being achieved, and this on the basis of an all-encompassing love which refuses to operate under any circumstances other than being free and un-coerced.
God’s love and commitment to humanity, therefore, form the very basis upon which the Trinity’s hierarchical arrangement is revealed. What God wills, the Son executes, and the Spirit ratifies, each within a certain order and time. Hierarchy is not about power, it’s about achieving a redemptive end. So through it the very process of “salvation history” becomes a story, not only of our redemption, but of the internal harmony and commitment within the Godhead itself, which makes that redemption possible.
To summarize, Young views hierarchy within the Trinity as unworthy of God, a “power play,” so to speak. He totally discounts God’s self-revelation in the Scriptures which portrays precisely just this “hierarchical” ordering of salvation history. Young, I believe, is misguided on this point. He stresses so much the co-equality of each person within the Trinity (which is biblical) that it becomes very difficult to admit the “functional” subordination which God communicates in salvation history (which isn't biblical).
What makes the Trinity so beautiful is that the 3 persons within the Godhead are absolutely co-equal yet capable of humbling themselves in an hierarchical arrangement within salvation history in order to accomplish humanity’s salvation. In other words, God’s triune actions are a startling counter-point to the prevailing sentiment of our day: Hierarchy, properly conceived and understood within the divine life, accomplishes good relationships rather than destroys them. This is exactly the opposite of the author’s view.[7]
This discussion may appear pedantic, but actually it's quite relevant. Common hierarchical arrangements in the world (whether they be between the citizen and the state, the teacher and the pupil, the husband and wife, or parents and children) have their basis in an eternal, ontological ordering of reality. This eternal order is trinitarian in nature. And in the divine, trinitarian life, hierarchy and submission are present but never expressed in terms of ego, power, or manipulation but rather within a context of a plurality of persons each working for the common good of the other and for purposes whose ends are redemptively universal in scope. All worldly hierarchical arrangements are to aspire to this eternal, trinitarian paradigm.
Thankfully we Christians can point to a hierarchical arrangement within history that for a change produced something good—our salvation. And thankfully we can then view life’s other ordered arrangements and see them for their intended purpose—our good—rather than the twisted and power-mongering things that sometimes they are. It's this revelation of the triune God, as Reinhold Niebuhr said, that stands transcendently over humanity, judging and at the same time calling us toward a higher, more ideal plane of existence.
Young doesn’t give hierarchy a fair shake, in my opinion, because he can't imagine either its usefulness or intended purpose. The raw fact that hierarchical arrangements are often abusive is quite enough for him to jettison the concept altogether.
Mack tackles Christ’s dual nature
Young is caught up in the great conundrum of explaining the difficult concept of Christ’s dual nature. Christ is both God and man, and fully each—not an easy thing to flesh out in 200 pages.[8] But it’s clear that Young favors the “human” side of Jesus to the near (or practical) exclusion of his “deity.”
Historically, this battle to understand the dual natures of Christ was fought centuries ago between the School of Alexandria and the School of Antioch. The Alexandrians stressed the deity of Christ the man, and the Antiochenes stressed the humanity of Christ who was also God.
Young clearly stands in the Antiochene tradition.[9] The danger in stressing the humanity of Christ to the exclusion of his deity, of course, is that we totally lose sight of the “substitutionary atonement.” It was actually God in Christ who died for our sins, who took our condemnation upon himself, and who humiliated himself in coming to earth to live in righteous submission to His heavenly Father. This is one of the most critical points in all of Christian theology
Young appears, therefore, to support some version of “kenotic” Christology.[10] The view goes something like this: In order to relate to humanity, Christ willingly set aside some of the attributes of his deity such as omnipotence and omniscience, even possibly his status as sovereign of the universe. Young follows this vein of thought. Look at how Papa describes Jesus’ nature:Jesus is fully human.
Although he is also fully God, he has never drawn upon his nature as God to do anything.
He has only lived out of his relationship with me, living in the very same manner that I
desire to be in relationship with every human being….’So when he healed the blind?’
[Mack asks.] He did so as a dependent, limited human being trusting in my life and power
to be at work within him and through him. Jesus, as a human being, had no power within himself
to heal anyone. (99-100)
Young can’t stress Christ’s deity too much, because if he does, he thinks Jesus can’t properly relate to the human experience. So unless God “turns into” a man and abandons or gives up the rights that attend his divine nature, He can’t possibly experience what it means to be human.
Young, therefore, humanizes Jesus to make him more empathetic and to ensure that he is viewed as a moral example of obedience. But notice the quandary that he puts himself in. “Jesus, as a human being, has no power to heal anyone.”[11] (100) But he doesn’t say what Jesus as divine can do. Couldn't the divne Jesus heal the blind? Yes, of course. But Young simply refuses to allow either God or Jesus to talk about the practical aspects of Jesus’ deity. It appears as though it’s just set aside and forgotten or maybe cocooned until God awakens it when certain conditions are met.
The problem with Young’s view is that Colossians clearly states in two places that the historical Jesus was “fully” God. (Colossians 1:19; 2:9) And the gospel writer Matthew goes so far as to announce that when Jesus was born, his arrival was viewed in terms of “God being with us.” (Matthew 1:23)
Young’s mistake at this point is a common one. He divides Jesus into two parts for the sake of making a point about his humanity.[12] It’s when he attempts to explain one nature against the other that he backs himself into a corner and is forced into a kenotic framework, choosing for his own personal reasons to promote the “human” Jesus more than the “divine” one. This is simply a false dichotomy, theologically speaking. Jesus is the God/man who acts in obedience to his heavenly Father. What he does, he does as two natures in one, not as two natures driven by two differing neccessities.
Furthermore, and this is the more important point, Young’s stress on Jesus’ limitations and powerlessness reveals an inconsistency with his view that no hierarchy can or should exist within the Godhead. Obviously if Jesus has to depend upon God to do his miracles, then some form of hierarchy does exist, not to mention some obligation on God’s part to come through in a pinch.
Because kenotic Christology was advocated by such theological greats as P. T. Forsyth, and because Philippians 2 strongly suggests something like it within the Godhead, Young rests certainly within a recognized and accepted tradition within Evangelicalism. The problem lies, however, in his resisting any notion of hierarchy, on the one hand, and his insisting on Jesus’ self-limitation and powerlessness, on the other. It never occurs to him that Jesus’ earthly limitations and powerlessness leave him at the mercy of God the Father and that this very dynamic involves hierarchy.
The presence of this huge inconsistency makes one wonder if Young’s prejudices are driving his Christology rather than the Scriptures themselves. This is a pertinent question for us all! And it may lead to a major weakness in Young’s fictional tale of the Trinity and Mack getting together for the weekend.
This problem along with Mack’s (or should I say Young’s) view of the church leave what is otherwise a marvelously absorbing book a little short, theologically speaking. But this in no way suggests that I think the book is a dud. Far from it! Read on.
PART II.
WHAT I FIND EDIFYING IN THE SHACK
Mack Wants to be Orthodox
As I read the book, I felt as though the author wanted me to know that his theology was “orthodox,” despite his criticisms of the church. I’m convinced that Young doesn’t want to throw the baby out with the bath water. Now mind you, he isn’t overt about this; rather, he subtly drops these traditional formulations so as to convince readers (most probably evangelical Christians) that his theology is not some off-the-wall concoction that he’s pulled from thin air.
So every now and then, Young lays down what seems like creedal formulations. They are meant to set his readers’ minds at ease and to show that the God he wants to talk about was and is a close facsimile to the one traditionally received.
Young, therefore, understands and reports to the reader that there is a bare minimum of fixed and non-negotiable doctrine, or better still, "God-talk." And it’s from this familiar base that he allows Mack to grow and expand on his own knowledge of God. Young does this very well, realizing that totally re-inventing God is not very wise (and probably won’t sell to the public).
For example, some “orthodox” positions are:
- The legend of the beautiful Indian maid (27-28); an anecdotal rendering of “substitutionary atonement.”
- An allusion to the priesthood of the believer (65-66) A pivotal doctrine for Protestants
- Elousia (86): (Papa’s name) El, meaning God in Hebrew; and “ousia” referring to God’s essence or being. (Young’s attempt at being biblical as well as mindful of the early church’s theological struggles over the common essence [ousia] shared by each person in the Trinity.)
- “Mackenzie, the Truth shall set you free and the Truth has a name; he’s over in the wood-shop right now covered in sawdust. Everything is about him.” (Papa, 95) Very sound Christology; shows Christ's exclusive character.
- “I am one God and I am three persons, and each of the three is fully and entirely one.” (Papa, 101) A long-standing depiction of the Trinity; orginally found in early church creeds.
- The Holy Spirit is “Creativity.” (110) Another more contemporary word for “regeneration”.
- Creation is good. (131) A reference to Genesis and the creation story as well as a key component of any biblical theodicy.
- The Fall of Adam & Eve is bad (133) A key truth in the doctrine of man.
- Life independent of God is “lunacy” (132) A theme repeated in Scripture, though stated differently.
- Sarayu argues for revelation over relativism (135) A battle the Scriptures try to settle once and for all.
- Evil as the absence of good (136) Straight out of St. Augustine's playbook!
- "Return...just come back to me," Jesus says to Mack. (147) The essence of the biblical term "repentence". (There are more examples--you get my point.)
All of the above are, in my mind, sound Evangelical principles of truth. And by using them, Young masterfully plays off the tension between the “faith handed down from tradition” and the need to continually expand and revise that faith. When this dynamic is lost, as Jarslov Pelikan says, the faith of the dead (i.e. tradition) no longer holds the power to create faith for the living.
So I do think Young appreciates traditional dogma, but he’s not afraid in the least to build upon it, which is what Mack's trip to the shack is all about. What is constructed as a result might very well miss the mark in places, as I try to argue in my critique, but the exercise is, nonetheless, worth doing. For it reminds us of the very process that took place centuries ago (and still goes on today), a process which is responsible for delivering to us the dogma that we now cherish, dogma which has embedded within it the answers to life's most difficult and challenging questions.
People do seek answers to tough questions
Speaking of answers, many people do have a yearning to incorporate God into their day-to-day experiences. And when our lives reach the level of personal crisis as Mack’s did, then our desire to reconcile the crisis with the notion of a loving God causes even further inquiry as to why the reconciliation seems impossible. It’s the old “If God is both powerful and good, then why do people suffer?” question. So Mack’s query is acutely apropos, “God, how can I understand you in light of Missy’s murder?” This is his overriding concern.
I have different feelings about Mack. But one thing I’m pretty sure of, he wants to understand God, or else he wouldn’t keep up the incessant questions that form the backbone of the book.
I think this speaks to the author’s own personal journey with God. When life appears bleakest, when the night is as dark as it possibly can be, there is Mack, questioning God’s position on the matter, and forever hoping that when all is said and done, He will show Himself lovingly concerned if not outright personally involved in what’s happened to Missy.
The greatest question of all, however, is not merely whether God has his eye on us. He can be watchful, even concerned, but that does not answer the all-important question: “IS HE GOOD?” We have Mack to thank for honing in on this question with eagle-eye clarity. Unless he answers the question in the affirmative, he knows in his gut that he cannot begin to have a meaningful relationship with God. Why?--because our journey with God is fundamentally one of trust.
Quite honestly, this one, piercing truth makes The Shack worth the read. And Papa’s not bashful about exposing it:
The real underlying flaw in your life, Mackenzie, is that you don’t think that I am
good. If you knew I was good and that everything—the means, the ends, and all
the processes of lives—all covered by my goodness, then while you might not
always understand what I am doing, you would trust me. But you don’t.” (126)
Young does believers a wonderful service in allowing us to relive our own decision to trust God just as Mack contemplates his own. And the light bulb that once shined when we realized that faith was a matter of simple trust again dazzles at the thought that Mack might trust God too. What Christian wouldn’t root for him as he journeys to the same destination that all of us at some point in time have reached. It’s quite a revelation as we all have discovered, including Mack, and yes, William Young too.
I celebrate with Mr. Young the mercy and tenderness of the triune God as He negotiates with us the complexities of His nature within the complexities of our own. It should not surprise us that the bridge between the two (our nature and His) is something as simple as trust. Leave it to God to make the complex simple. Thanks Mr. Young for reminding me of that.
ENDNOTES
1 Wayne Jacobsen, “Is The Shack Heresy?” In http://www.windblownmedia.com/shackresponse.html )
2 Read Young's interview with Susan Olasky, "Commuter-Driven Bestseller." World Magazine, June 28, 2008. Young says, "]The institutional church] doesn't work for those of us who are hurt and those of us who are damaged." On his own website, Young writes: "I am not connected, or a part, or a member of, or involved inside any sort of organization or movement anywhere." See "Paul Young's Short Bio," in http://www.windrumors.com/bio/
3 Wm P. Young, The Shack (Newbury Park, CA: Windblown Media, 2007) p. 66, (emphasis mine).All other page citations hereafter will be cited within the review itself, not in endnotes.
4 I paraphrase Mack for the sake of brevity.
5 Young even uses Nietzsche’s “will to power” phrase--a purely human and diabolical trait. Though it’s not clear where Young actually got the phrase. [124]
6 See John 5:22; 6:37; 17:24; Mark 14:62; and the granddaddy of all "subordinationist" passages: 1 Corinthians 15:24, 28.
7 For a fuller discussion of hierarchy and its place within the Trinity, see Bruce A. Ware, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit: Relationships, Roles, and Relevance (Wheaton, ILL: Crossway, 2005)
8 For example, the French theologian Ives Congar (1904-1995) published a 3 volume work entitled, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, suggesting just how massive the task is of speaking about, not just the Trinity, but one of its members. To expect Young to address everything in a short book is asking the impossible.
9 Alexandrians stressed Christ’s deity for soteriological reasons. Only God can save humanity from ourselves; hence stressing the divine nature of Christ was most important. Antiochenes stressed Christ’s humanity for moral reasons. Only a man (i.e. a real human nature) can undo the damage of Adam; hence, stressing the human nature of Christ is most important.
10 Advocates of “kenotic” Christology include Charles Gore and P. T. Forsyth, and the key NT passage is Philippines 2:6-11. Jesus “emptied himself.”
11 Emphasis mine.
12 Hebrews 4:14-15 accomplishes what Young attempts to portray—Jesus’ full humanity—but does so while also stressing his deity.