The Church Abides

The Nonexistent "Good Old Days"

As I have previously written, our convictions on political or other questions may seem like they must be a different category from our faith convictions, but that's not automatically true. Our convictions are naturally intertwined and jumbled together, and if we aren't constantly being intentional about acting on those convictions we know rationally are most important, other convictions will instinctively rise to the top of the heap and become the guiding principles which really determine our behavior, regardless of what we'd claim.

One of my hobbies is geopolitics, and I'm fascinated by how abstract issues like metacultural worldview interplay with practical realities like the geographical distribution of valuable resources. (Without oil dollars, would Islam have continued to secularize after the Ottoman Empire dissolved?)

Given how all these phenomena are interdependent, it's not surprising that one can find parallels to some problems in the way we think about church, in the way we think about politics. In the U.S. I grew up in a conservative environment, and a constant refrain among Conservatives in those days was "getting back" to the good days when America was free, patriotic, prosperous, morally upright, God-honoring, etc. etc. (My own current views on this sort of thing aren't the point of this post, but suffice to say I am neither in lockstep with nor in rebellion against that upbringing. Mostly I think conservatism as a movement is an entirely ineffective way to accomplish the goals of conservatives, like trying to steer a car via the brakes.)

However, while one can point to specific ways in which each of those cultural qualities may have been more true at given times and given places in the past as compared to now (few would dispute that things have gotten pretty chaotic in recent years), at the same time, being intellectually honest requires admitting that there has never been a time when one could describe all of America in glowingly positive terms. There have always been unacceptable problems and rampaging controversies. There weren't any good old days, just different good things in those days vs. the good things we have now. Whether you prefer that good to this good may be an interesting and profitable discussion, but it's not only misguided to simply assume "everything was better before," even the Bible weighs in and says to hush.

Never Getting it Right

The same is true of the Church. The Church has never operated with safety wheels on or guard rails up. In the earliest era of the Church, congregations planted by apostles themselves openly engaged in behavior that would shock the sensibilities of not only any church but any decent person. (They did this partly because they confused what it meant to be counter-cultural, thinking basic human moral rules no longer applied to them now that they had a new identity in Christ.) Tradition states that in 325AD, Old Saint Nick found it necessary to impart the the loving hand of correction upside Arius' lying head at a church council. We laugh and meme about it now, but imagine if we managed to hold a church-wide ecumenical council now and it was interrupted by one pastor striking another in the face. The World would laugh for weeks and concern-bloggers would extrapolate every possible aspect in which this revealed the Church's deep failings.

Observe the technique: Grasp the left hand of heresy and counter with your right.

There is some evidence to suggest the Arias-punching story is entirely apocryphal, but certainly deep controversies have wracked the Church from its earliest days, and in later times when the Church had accrued much political power to itself, wars followed. Like the fallacy of the elusive glory days of free and virtuous America, the Church has been getting serious things wrong for as long as it's been a Church, but to suggest that this delegitimizes the Church demonstrates a fundamental misunderstanding of human nature. Humanity is fallen and sinful. Anything we remain involved with over the centuries is partly a trainwreck in historically slow motion, we just like to pretend the brief moments of clarity or smoothness are the norm, like a poor athlete who has one great game and convinces himself it reflects his true average skill.

Today, seeing so many problems with the Church, many hasten to express their particular brand of condemnation. Older believers fear the Church won't survive being inherited by these tradition-eschewing millennials. Young believers believe the Church may not escape the non-leadership of their inauthentic and dispassionate elders. Right-leaning believers fear the Church will confuse social justice for the gospel, Left-leaning believers fear the Church has irrevocably tied itself to the Republican party. You could go into any Christian subculture and find people convinced the Church is headed in the wrong direction for exactly those reasons that are celebrated by some other subculture.

Whether well-intentioned or simply virtue-signalling, these concerned commenters all seem to forget that the Church survived the early heresies and persecutions, the Fall of Rome (at the time, truly the end of the world as far as much of the Church was concerned), the Great Schism, the Reformation (another even greater schism), Modernist reinterpretations, prosperity preachers and false prophets, etc. In every age, the Church has been beset by dangers any particular one of which could have destroyed it. Except, of course, that Christ already promised Peter that the Gates of Hell would not overcome the Church. God does not keep the Church from error, but He keeps it.

The Church through the Eyes of Sauron

Obviously, a local church or the Church in an area can be more, or less, healthy. Every believer must seek to maintain the health of their own spiritual life, and we seek it corporately as well, as individual members of one body. If the cells of a body are unhealthy, the body will be unhealthy, and on the other hand a body with healthy cells can harm them en masse by engaging in unhealthy behaviors. There is a micro and macro scale from which we can consider the health of the church.

Recently I noticed an impassioned and occasionally profane article in which the writer suggested that American Christianity has wandered so far that the Church just needs to die and be resurrected. ("I'm excited the North American church is dying.") because they feel it's too far gone to be redeemed, too confused with cultural elements, etc. This, for the article writer, is somehow connected to Supreme Court decisions and how we're not like those awesome Christians of 165AD who buried pagan people too, not only their own, but instead we judge people on social media. Or something. (It's an impassioned but somewhat disjointed and not entirely coherent piece of writing)

This kind of zealous self-flagellation springing from a comparison of the sad modern church we can actually look at vs. certain high points of church history has some basis in simple ignorance or naivety, like someone who compares themselves to someone else's social media profile and forgets there is a real, flawed person behind it. But there's also a kind of perfectionism or OCD that leads people to continually despair and condemn the Church and want to throw the whole thing out and start over, which is both impossible and undesirable. "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off" is a command to individuals in their pursuit of holiness, however, not to the Bride of Christ. Schisms are direly unfortunate amputations, not a healthy purging of specific or regional churches who were weighed in the scale (by whom?) and found wanting. We don't want pieces of the Church to die; we want them nursed back to health if necessary.

C.S.Lewis, in his incredibly insightful Screwtape Letters, mentions--via the sarcastic viewpoint of one demonic tempter advising another how to lead his human "patient" astray--how easy it is to be unimpressed by the Church manifested in a particular place and setting:

One of our great allies at present is the Church itself. Do not misunderstand me. I do not mean the Church as we see her spread out through all time and space and rooted in eternity, terrible as an army with banners. That, I confess, is a spectacle which makes our boldest tempters uneasy. But fortunately it is quite invisible to these humans. All your patient sees is the half-finished, sham Gothic erection on the new building estate. When he goes inside, he sees the local grocer with rather an oily expression on his face bustling up to offer him one shiny little book containing a liturgy which neither of them understands, and one shabby little book containing corrupt texts of a number of religious lyrics, mostly bad, and in very small print. When he gets to his pew and looks round him he sees just that selection of his neighbours whom he has hitherto avoided...

Lewis' description here, from the viewpoint of the Enemy, is accurate in its details (unimpressive aspects of a particular church service), the lie is in the attitude. It's not so much seeing wrongly, as seeing selectively and drawing selective conclusions. It's easy to do this when considering the Church.
At the risk of over-Inkling, an example from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings is apt here as well: there is a point where Denethor, the stoic leader of Gondor, is revealed to have been led astray by Sauron. He has been using a magic seeing-stone to spy on Sauron, who is unable to stop him but can influence what he sees to some extent. Sauron therefore guides Denethor to see Mordor's strongest armies and most impressive defenses, and prevents him from noticing any problems and weak points. This results in Denethor, though continuing to go through the motions of his duty, internally giving in to despair, convinced Sauron is too strong to ever be defeated.

What you see depends on where you look, or are persuaded to look

When, with the desire for a healthy Church, we consider the Church's many problems, the Enemy may not be able to deceive us entirely. But he can influence where our gaze falls, and he can undermine our attitude. 
Looking at an American Church which is taking the gospel all over the world, that feeds the homeless and helps the poor daily, that is constantly bringing the same truth to the world in new and creative ways (that is in fact of identity the Bride of Christ, flawed but redeemed), and concluding that the whole thing should die as soon as possible so "the real Church" can somehow emerge, based on your particular ideas of what that should look like, is to be looking at real problems but doing so with the attitude of the Enemy, who also wants the Church to die and doesn't mind if you think you have godly motives in agreeing with him.

Cultural Christianity is Good if the Church is Healthy

The "North American Church," the Church in general, should not die, and will not die. God will keep a remnant for Himself even in situations much direr than the onslaught of sloth, leaderlessness, personal distraction, and nihilism we face in 2017.

The Church doesn't handle peace and affluence well; the Church is Antifragile, growing mostly through testing and adversity. This has indeed led some people to understand growing hostility to the Church in American culture to be a blessing in some ways. But two important facts must be acknowledged here:

1) Times getting tough for the Church doesn't mean "Cultural Christianity" will die. Cultural Christianity is an unavoidable aspect of Post-Christian cultures, or even subcultures--Taiwan has a problem with Cultural Christianity even in its small and culturally marginal church. Cultural Christianity may eventually more or less die if America really moves very far away from its roots, but for a long time before that it will look like the culture calling something Christianity which is not. That's already been true for a while.

2) The decline of Cultural Christianity does not translate to a healthier Church. A culture that respects God is not a bad thing. Yes it's bad when people think they are Christians because they go to Church, but no church with strong biblical teaching and a healthy discipleship culture is going to have lots of its members thinking they are Christians simply because they show up.
Rather, it's a blessing to a culture to recognize God as the God they accept or reject, and a barrier to the gospel when that recognition is lost. "Do you believe in God" or "Does God Exist" is not a culturally meaningless question in America the way it is in Taiwan. God ought to be glorified, ought to receive respect, and even the lip service of the world is a recognition of His glory, though an unreliable one that does them no good unless they are in relationship with Him. Even the rocks will cry out, and in the presence of the Church, even a sinful worldly culture will testify to the truth by its specific refusal of it. (Like those Atheists who don't realize what they're really saying when they insist they don't believe in "God," meaning the God of the Bible)
The presence of the Water of Life will naturally begin to make the air humid, and then people will feel less thirsty when the air is less dry; it's an inevitable process that can be seen in the history of Great Commission efforts throughout the world.

The decline of Christianity in the culture means many things for the Church, but it does not follow that the Church will suddenly become more devout just because the culture stops recognizing God or knowing the basic terminology of the gospel in a cultural way. It's foolish to have less scriptural understanding in the culture as a hoped-for situation, let alone that the Church will implode somehow. The Church has always struggled, and it's always been bigger than you.

Don't celebrate desertification, overflow with water now.

"My Power is made Perfect in Weakness": Christian Antifragility

Dear Readers: I hope you all had a joyful Christmas. (I recognize it has not exactly been a peaceful holiday for many of you, with the crazy weather across the United States).

The New Year now approaches, promising to be even more complicated and chaotic than last year as tense and unstable situations around the world are further destabilized. Plus elections. It is well for followers of Jesus that our hope is not in this world, else it would be a bad time for hope.

(And to top it all off, next year will begin the Chinese Year of the Red Fire Monkey. As a believer I place zero faith in astrology of any kind, but I had a laugh at how humorously ominous that sounds...)

Doesn't start until February, actually

As an INTP, ideas are my currency, and the ever-present task in the back of my mind is to keep figuring out how our world works in all its complexity. A few years ago I was exposed to the idea of "antifragility," explained below, and found it to be a very important new property to look for in any human endeavor (including those of the Church). As we seem to be entering a time in which circumstances grow eerily similar to those that preceded the World Wars of the previous century, we can take heart knowing that the Church which has endured every hardship and trial of history will emerge from whatever societal chaos may come, because she is built on a foundation which cannot be shaken by the world.

The Idea: Antifragility

The concept as currently articulated is the brainchild of Nassim Taleb, a Lebanese-American thinker/author/risk analyst, who has written important work on the impact of "flukes" or "random catastrophes" called Black Swans, with the implication that it's foolish to regard them as unavoidable events, but that they should be expected to come eventually, and can even be profited from accordingly.

This initial work was followed by more research and contemplation of the subject, which he developed further conceptually and for which he eventually coined the term antifragility. The idea is usually explained in a threefold manner:

1. Fragility: We know what fragile means: that something which is fragile must be handled with care, that it cannot receive shocks or stress without sustaining damage or even being destroyed. Fine glassware is fragile, as an obvious example.

2. Resilience: Normally one would say that the opposite of fragility is resilience, or toughness: the ability to handle shocks and stress and not take much damage, or at least to recover quickly. A rubber sole is resilient, a piece of oak is resilient, etc.

3. Antifragility: Taleb's innovative idea is that resilience is not really the opposite of fragility. The true opposite of fragility would not be something which is more able to endure shocks or stress, but which would grow stronger due to them. With no good word to describe this property, Taleb made up a word: Antifragility. If you remember basic Greek mythology, there was a beast called a Hydra, which for every head cut off would grow multiple heads in its place. "Stress," in this case physical damage, was actually helpful to it. Another example would be the bones of a child: if they break, a properly healed bone is actually stronger at the previous breaking point than it was before the fracture.

The three-fold analogy of fragility, resilience, and antifragility is explained in a good summary article on the Art of Manliness. If this blog post interests you in the subject, that's a great place to start.

For now, suffice to say that while resiliency becomes very desirable when facing a time of rapid changes and above average stress, antifragility is the secret to those groups which don't merely weather the storms, but somehow seem to profit from them and come out stronger.

We see examples of this in the news today:

Muslim terror groups are often quite antifragile. The more Western military might tries to pulverize them, the more they melt away into the populace, recruiting more people to their cause due to collateral damage. Soon new cells pop up where none were before. It's the hydra all over again.

The stock market, on the other hand, is fragile. 2008 demonstrated what can happen when an entire economic system becomes fragile and is hit by a shock, in that case the housing lending bubble popping. The US economy is also fragile with regards to oil; any significant jump in the oil price and the whole taut system quivers anxiously.

This explains why somehow the mighty Western powers have found themselves unable to defeat a radical Islamic foe that is positively dwarfed in terms of military power and not really liked by anyone: The West is fragile with regards to dependence on oil, and antifragile radical groups are destabilizing the region where the oil is. We can't ignore them, then, for pragmatic if not moral reasons, but our previous strategies only seem to have made matters worse. Part of the reason we haven't defeated them is not because they are tougher than us, but because they are antifragile. While individual terrorists and radical muslim cells can be killed quickly, on the whole this strengthens their movement.

Fragility and Antifragility cannot be confused with weakness and strength either. Before the War in Iraq, Saddam's dictatorship was much stronger than the subversive elements in his territory, but it was also more fragile than they; once our both stronger and more resilient military wiped Saddam's forces off the map, the regime went down easily. The antifragile radical movements which took advantage of the chaos are not so easily dealt with, however, and will require different strategies.

Antifragility is often found in conjunction with small size, redundancy, decentralization, a willingness to take small risks if the chance of reward is good, and a focus on increasing one's available options.

With all this in mind, antifragility sounds like a great thing to pursue in one's personal life. But can it be related at all to our faith? Should a Christian even try to use this kind of "success" strategy? Let's take a look.

A Case for Christian Antifragility

1. Is it ungodly to strive for something like antifragility?

When talking about making our ministries or churches more robust, the first instinct is that this is of course a good thing. Then, sometimes, a "spiritual" objection arises: shouldn't we be focusing not on our own strength, but on dependency on God? "When we are weak, He is strong," after all.

My answer to this is that "when we are weak, He is strong" is not a command but an observation. Paul makes it in Second Corinthians after "boasting" of his qualifications and his suffering for God in 2 Cor 11 and 12. He then mentions his "thorn in the flesh," an enigmatic term which commentators have enjoyed guessing about for centuries, as a reminder from God that His grace is sufficient, for His power is made perfect in weakness. Paul says, with much grounds for boasting of his "street cred" as a gospel worker, that "to keep me from becoming conceited" (ESV; NET has "so that I would not become arrogant) he was given this thorn in the flesh to remind him of his own weakness. His boasting of his own weakness is therefore both a willing submission to God's reminder and a joyful proclamation of the strength of Christ, of whom Paul lives to preach.

And that is generally my response to this kind of objection. We don't need to strive to be weak, because like Paul, whatever we think we may have to boast about, we are already weak. God's power is made perfect in us when we recognize that weakness, when the illusion of our own tiny ability is seen for what it is, and we humbly rely on strength from God. A crumb on the lens of a telescope can obscure stars larger than our sun. It doesn't mean the crumb might not be big compared to other crumbs, but our perspective tempts us to compare it to the star, which is more ridiculous than we can comprehend.

2. Honoring God in our Ministries

All that is to say, any kind of argument that trying to make our churches and ministries stronger is inherently an attempt to take glory from God and give it to men, or to exalt ourselves and our strength against God's, is simply wrong. Those things might happen if we go about it the wrong way, or with the wrong motives, but it's not wrong to do the best job we can, in fact it's sinful not to attempt to. We are not to strive for weak ministries, but good and effective ones. Our weakness is something to bring before God as an obvious condition, not a property with which we ought to seek to imbue our efforts.

So if we are loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, we will not be ambivalent about setting up our ministries to function as well as we can, from the human standpoint, while praying always for the work of the Holy Spirit to accomplish the work in people's hearts that we cannot.

3. The Church is already Antifragile

And if we believe we have a responsibility to strengthen our churches and ministries, then, we should take note that God has already established the Church as an Antifragile institution.

In the early days of the faith, once Christianity was no longer viewed as an odd flavor of Judaism but a new, non-sanctioned faith that was rapidly spreading among the Roman populace, Roman emperors undertook campaigns to discourage or eliminate the growing Church.

From a human standpoint, the "stress" on the Church was very great; multitudes lost their property and were imprisoned, and many lost their lives as well.

(Note: I have not linked to the Wikipedia article on Roman Persecutions, as it seems mainly concerned that we understand the Christians were making an overly big deal about it and the Romans were just trying to keep order.. In general I suggest being cautious of Wikipedia these days; many of the editors who oversee page content are self-proclaimed activists who push the pages in the direction of their own views)

However, we have a saying, "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church." (Tertullian)
The result of all those persecutions is that the Church grew very rapidly, both as the plight of believers drew attention and sympathy to their faith, and as they were often driven from one area to another, spreading the gospel to new areas it would have reached more slowly otherwise.

A similar thing happened in China during the closed years of the Cultural Revolution; when Christians came in from outside later, fearing the Church had been reduced or eliminated entirely, they found it had instead grown greatly during the difficult years.

To say, then, that the Church is antifragile, is not to deny that it was God's power that expanded and protected Her; antifragility is not a cause but a property, and the Church by its nature possesses this property, due to exactly what we discussed above: God's power is made perfect in weakness. This means the more desperate of circumstances we are reduced to, as a church, as the Church, or as individuals, the more we may see God do.

Therefore we see that "God's power is made perfect in weakness" is actually a bold revelation of startling truth. We thought the equation was:

"Do your best, and God will do the rest": 

But what Paul reveals is that in reality we have this:

"My power is made perfect in weakness": 

As you may remember from math class, as the denominator goes to zero, the value of the fraction goes to infinity. As our strength fails, there is no limit to what God can do.
This is not merely antifragility, but ultimate, supernatural antifragility.

Satan is very strong, but he is merely resilient. By the gift of "weakness," together with His power, God has made the Church so that the gates of hell truly may never prevail against it, by its very nature. This is why prosperity and ease are the most effective tools in the arsenal against the Church. Suffering and hardship actually make the Church stronger; of social influence, political power, and comfortable circumstances weaken it by hampering and slowing its development.

Antifragility for the Believer, Ministry, or Church

A. Church

So if the Church (the Body of Christ as a whole) is already antifragile, how about a church? How about your own local church?

Sadly, though the Church only grows stronger through persecution, individual churches may split over any number of issues, mostly strong personalities coming into conflict. This kind of "church multiplication" is not antifragile, it merely takes something fragile and breaks it into two fragile pieces.

A strong and healthy church, however, which reproduces itself, could be antifragile. A church of healthy and developing small groups of whatever form is already very resilient, and is probably antifragile. Any harm befalling the church, be it financial, loss of important people, etc., can not only be made up for by everyone coming together, but it is an opportunity for training and discipleship to be put into action. Someone may need to step into the old role.

A church seeking to be antifragile will have redundancy as well; a church with a human bottleneck (one or more indispensable people) is quite common, and may be quite efficient, but it's very fragile. Should that one or those key personnel be removed, the church might be in serious trouble. Rather than praying for God not to ever let that person be unable to perform in that role, then if they are unable to, putting it down to God's mysterious will that the church suffer all these problems (this is what the Muslims do with "Inshallah"... it's not at all a proper application of the doctrine of God's sovereignty), a church seeking to become less fragile will have that person train others to do what they do.
(That feeling of being indispensable is both pleasant and addicting for very many people, but it's not helpful to the survival of the church. It must be laid at the cross along with everything else)

So, two tips for an antifragile church:
1. Healthy, "real" small groups, with the goal of each being capable of functioning as a microchurch if necessary
2. Anyone with an important role in the church has trained at least one person to do what they do (it doesn't have to be perfect, or even well, they just need to be able to do it) Note that this includes the senior pastor. Most churches' weakest point is the senior pastor, because he's irreplaceable. Some churches never recover from the loss of an especially beloved or capable senior pastor.

B. Ministry

Many ministries are fairly fragile just by their nature, and will dissolve naturally if there is too much disruption. This is not necessarily a bad thing; a ministry should arise from the gifts and calling of individual believers joining together, and there will always be other opportunities to pursue for the Kingdom. But there are certain ministries, say a church plant, where it is highly desirable that the ministry should continue long term, or at least survive until the primary objective has been accomplished.

So one hopes that a long-term ministry would at least be resilient. But it would be even better if it could be antifragile. What if a church plant, upon encountering difficulties, did not fail but spawned off a second, successful ministry? What if the end result was that three cell churches were planted instead of one?

Pursuing antifragility gets trickier for a ministry, but it can be done. The easiest path is to first identify what would cause a ministry to fail if it were absent. This is not always obvious, but once identified, either the crucial elements are replaceable, or they are not. Often, in smaller ministries, they simply aren't. If you have one Evangelist, they can show you how they do what they do, and everyone can practice it, but they can't give you that spiritual gift. In that situation, we are simply back to our weakness and God's strength, and trusting that if He wills the ministry to continue, He will not let that crucial element be removed, or He will give others the ability to carry on that important part of the ministry.

On the other hand, sometimes redundancy is possible. If the ministry depends on one guy who knows how to set up sound equipment, he should teach someone else how to do it. That's an easy step.

Another important part of antifragility is to keep things from expanding out of control. If your ministry is trying to do three fairly different things, perhaps one should be spun off, with your blessing, into its own ministry. If there are people in common, they may be able to invite others to participate in the ministry and it will be a training opportunity.
The attitude is not consolidation, but multiplication.

Three tips for an antifragile ministry:
1. Be aware of what is absolutely crucial for the ministry to continue and make sure that stays in focus
2. Redundancy wherever possible
3. Keep things focused. Preference is on multiplication versus consolidation

C. Personal

This is the one most people talk about, so I'll talk about it the least. However I rarely see it coming from the perspective of one's walk with God, so there are some worthwhile issues to raise.

Once one is aware of the concept, the Bible is actually full of references to antifragility. Grape vines bear more fruit when they are pruned heavily. Jesus says that a seed cannot grow unless it dies (to being a seed), but once grown it can produce many seeds. Romans 5 speaks of the importance of suffering, which produces endurance, endurance character, and character hope. Thus suffering, something we typically try to avoid, produces the hope we are looking for. Avoiding the suffering may, surprisingly, be the reason you feel hopeless.

Therefore an attitude of embracing productive suffering, submitting willingly to the stress that causes an antifragile thing to become stronger, can produce a vital change in one's walk with God. If upon encountering difficulties, rather than asking the very natural questions that spring to mind: "Why is this happening to me? What sin is this punishment for? Does God really love me?" we can try changing the question to: "What is God teaching me through this?" In what way is this making me a better person and more effective servant for the Kingdom?" No one signs up for gym classes and then asks the instructor why he's making you suffer. The difference for Christians is that sometimes we don't realize we signed up to be made into the image of Christ.

If we recognize that letting God walk us through a series of ever-increasing challenges is precisely the process of spiritual growth He intends for us, we might even be willing to voluntarily leave our comfort zones, to ask God to lead us to tasks too big for us to handle as we are now. If comfort is our goal, we cannot grow to be more like Christ; we must embrace a certain level of discomfort in order to develop. I think that's what Paul was getting at with some of his athlete analogies: If we approach the spiritual life like an athlete approaches a marathon, the Christian life suddenly starts to make a lot of sense.

"God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through." - Francis Chan

One could explore antifragility in the Christian life from innumerable other ways. (redundancy in one's personal walk, so that small things don't disrupt it; how we think of risk as believers; keeping our lives simple and flexible to serve God...) We'll save those for a future post. For now, check out the link near the top for the explanation of antifragility (actually here it is again), or find Taleb's book on Amazon if you want the full blown, way-too-much-information version.