Lectio Divina is Latin for divine reading. It is an ancient way of reading Scripture that has been kept alive for centuries by the Christian monastic tradition. Lectio Divina is simply a rhythm of reading a given text, meditating on it, entering into prayerful dialogue with God, and creating space to contemplate in stillness.
It is my understanding that the Word of God must never be objectified and thus approached as something we can rationally explain. Rather, the Word is a mystery that invites us into a relationship. For when reading Scripture, it is not in the words where we find God, but in our encounter with them.
Thus, Lectio Divina beckons us to delve into the mystery with the hope that we might be transformed by an encounter with the living God.
Isaiah 55:8-13
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
it will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.
Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the LORD’s renown,
for an everlasting sign,
that will endure forever.”
Filed under: Politics, Prayers, Theology | Tags: Brian Walsh, Empire Remixed, Romans, Targum
by Brian Walsh
Brothers and sisters, as we listen in on St. Paul addressing folks at the very heart of the Roman empire, I want to put my cards on the table this morning.
I want to tell you, that…
In the face of the collapse of the dominant worldview of the modern West,
I’m ashamed when consumerism and greed is embraced
in the name of a false Christian gospel of affluence.
In the face of the crisis of capitalism,
I’m ashamed when Christians embrace free enterprise as God’s own
choice for an economy.
In the face of thousands dieing daily of malnutrition,
billions living in desperate poverty,
and the world on the precipice of irreparable ecological despoliation,
I’m ashamed that good Christian folks will appeal to “Romans one”
to legitimate homophobic gay and lesbian bashing.
These are, I submit, shameful gospels.
They leave me defeated, embarrassed and angry.
But I am not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
This gospel is nothing less than the power of God for salvation.
A power that blows apart the empire,
dethroning its pretentious claims,
unveiling its lies for what they are.
Why am I not ashamed of this gospel?
Because through its power, life is put to rights.
Why am I not ashamed of the gospel?
Because in it we meet a justice achieved not through imperial violence,
but through the faithfulness of Jesus Christ,
who bore such violence
on an imperial cross.
Why am I not ashamed of the gospel?
Because such shame will paralyze me,
render me unable to heed the call to faithfulness
and so disempower me that I will not have the energy to live for justice.
Righteousness, justice, faithfulness – all in the shadow of empire.
This is the fruit of the gospel
that we long to proclaim and engender
in this Wine Before Breakfast community.
So let’s be clear about what is going on these days.
Let’s not engage in cover up with talk of market corrections,
or market misbehaviour.
Let’s not try to salvage this leaky ship of fools
with billions of dollars of tax payers’ money.
No, my friends, that’s way too cheap, and doesn’t begin to address the problem.
What’s going on in the present economic crisis
is nothing less than the wrath of God
being revealed against all ungodliness,
all injustice, all greed, all false gospels
and the distorted lives they produce.
But an empire of deceit,
an economy of lies,
is no surprise when we have become so adept
at suppressing the truth of God that is plain
from the very nature of creation.
What part of the finite and gift character of creation didn’t they get
when they adopted an ideology of infinite greed,
insatiable consumption
and an ever expanding and ever growing economy?
Doesn’t the very nature of creation
bear witness to a God of abundance rooted in justice?
Doesn’t the very goodness of creation
bear witness to the generosity of this God?
Doesn’t the very place of humanity in the order of things
teach us that are called to image the Creator
through loving and careful stewardship?
So here’s the sad truth, my friends:
this empire of greed,
this narrative of economic growth,
this whole house of cards is based on lies and deception.
This whole culture of consumption,
this whole empire of money,
is based on self-willed ignorance.
Creation proclaims a better way
because creation bears witness to a God of grace.
But we have suppressed this truth,
engaged in denial and cover-up.
Refusing to live a life of gratitude,
refusing to live a life of thanks to the God
who called forth such a rich creation,
refusing to honour this Creator God,
and embracing a culture of entitlement and ingratitude,
we abandoned the God of light and embraced the dark.
And in all of our complex theories
in all of our sophisticated and incomprehensible economic talk,
we became futile in our thinking
we ended up with lots of talk but no sense,
theories that are empty,
vanity of vanities.
And we thought that we were so wise,
we thought that we had it all figured out,
but the joke has been on us,
and it is now clear that we have been fools.
You see, that’s what happens when you get in bed with idols.
That’s what happens when you don’t image God in faithful justice,
but embrace graven images,
cheap imitations,
that look so good,
look so powerful,
but will always fail you,
will always come up short
because they are impotent.
Empty idols, empty minds.
Dumb idols, lives of foolishness.
Betrayal and disappointment.
Fear and terror.
Embrace the idol of economism,
believe its false promise of abundance,
allow your lives to be shaped by the greed of this idol,
and you will reap the bankruptcy of that false faith,
you’ll be “hooked on avarice”
you’ll be caught up in an “idolatry of ideology,”
and your life will be reshaped in the image of that pitiful idol.
Embrace the idol of economism,
believe its false promise of wealth and power,
and you will find yourself facing “No Options.”
You will find your life constricted and bound,
stuck in a moment that you can’t get out of,
and the economic freedom that you dreamed of will awaken to the reality
of lost value,
international terrorism
and a despoiled planet.
And God says, “to hell with you.”
And God says, “make your bed and lie in it.”
And God says, “go ahead and screw your idols”
And God says, “I’ll let those idols screw you right back.”
My friends, we are not facing an economic crisis.
We are facing a spiritual crisis.
The issue isn’t fundamentally the markets.
The issue is idolatry at the very root and foundation of our society,
at the very root and foundation of our very way of life,
at the very root and foundation of our very souls.
We are called to live in the truth,
we are called to embody truth in our lives,
but we have traded in the truth for a lie.
Our imaginations have been taken captive,
we can hardly dream of what life outside the grip of idolatry
would look like;
we can scarcely imagine a life that isn’t enslaved to consumption;
we can’t even begin to get our heads around justice and righteousness;
generosity and contentment are alien to us,
and an economics of enough is impossible to conceive,
let alone live.
And it is all so empty,
it is all so foolish,
it is all so senseless.
We have got into bed with idols,
and not known the Lord.
We have bent the knee to idolatry
and not worshipped the Creator
who is blessed forever. (Amen.)
Having embraced an insatiable idolatry of greed,
having been taken captive by an idolatry of consumption,
our desires are perverted,
our passions run wild,
and we are lost in a sexual fantasy land that is deathly.
Our young women package themselves as sexual products,
ready for consumption.
Our young men knotch up their sexual conquests,
egocentric proof of their prowess.
Our sexuality is divorced from covenantal intimacy
and reduced to cheap carnal entertainment.
But this is not why God created us as sexual beings.
All of this is a betrayal of who we are called to be.
The image of God is perverted by such sexual idolatry.
And remember, idols are insatiable.
They always require sacrifice and they are never satisfied.
And they have a terrible appetite for children.
There is no idolatry apart from child sacrifice.
This is the devastating truth of our culture.
Just as the economy will require the sacrifice of all of creation
to fuel its ever-expanding growth,
so will an insatiable sexual idolatry require the sexual sacrifice of children.
This is a predatory culture,
and children are the most vulnerable victims.
This is the bitter fruit of idolatry.
This is the sexuality of empire.
So it is no surprise that the God who gives us up to insatiable lust,
and who gives us up to perverted desire,
also gives us up to a debased vision of life,
a mind of debauchery.
That’s what happens when you refuse to know God
because you are too busy screwing with idols!
But make no mistake!
Such idolatrous copulation bears the bad fruit
of a deeply distorted life,
full of evil longing,
greed, hatred,
envy, death,
breaking community and destroying families,
arrogance, insolent disrespect,
foolishness, infidelity,
and a ruthlessness that is borne of a heart
that has turned its back on love.
All of this …
this imagination,
this worldview,
this cultural practice,
this way of life,
… all of this is in service of a culture of death.
So don’t be surprised if this culture dies,
and don’t be surprised that this way of life will kill you,
even as you applaud and cheer everyone who lives this way.
And let’s be clear.
I’m not talking about “them”
somehow in contrast to “us.”
No my friends, we’re in this shit together.
I’m talking about me.
I’m talking about you.
Filed under: Booknotes, Politics, Quotation Marks, Theology | Tags: Martin Luther King Jr., Strength to Love
When an affluent society would coax us to believe that happiness consists in the size of our automobiles, the impressiveness of our houses, and the expensiveness of our clothes, Jesus reminds us, ‘A man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.’
When we would yield to the temptation of a world rife with sexual promiscuity and gone wild with a philosophy of self-expression, Jesus tells us that ‘whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.’
When we refuse to suffer for righteousness and choose to follow the path of comfort rather than conviction, we hear Jesus say, ‘Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’
When in our spiritual pride we boast of having reached the peak of moral excellence, Jesus warns, ‘The publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you.’
When we, through compassionless detachment and arrogant individualism, fail to respond to the needs of the underprivileged, the Master says, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’
When we allow the spark of revenge in our souls to flame up in hate toward our enemies, Jesus teaches, ‘Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.’
Everywhere and at all times, the love ethic of Jesus is a radiant light revealing the ugliness of our stale conformity.
Filed under: Makes Me Laugh, Politics, Theology | Tags: Andrew Bradstock, Profits Without Honour, The Creed
A friend shared this with me a few days ago. It comes from an introduction to a paper presented to the University of Auckland School of Theology in August (link below).
We believe in one Market, the Almighty,
Maker of heaven on Earth,
Of all that is, priced and branded,
True growth from true growth,
Of one being with the Economy.
From this, all value is added.
We believe in Deregulation, once and for all,
The only way to prosperity.
For us and for our salvation,
Reagan and Thatcher were elected
And were made gods.
In their decade they legislated
To take away our economic sins.
They were crucified by the Liberal Media,
But rose again, in accordance with their manifestos.
They ascended in the polls
And are seated at the right hand of Milton Friedman.
We believe in the Invisible Hand,
The giver of economic life.
It has spoken through our profits.
It proceeds from the Law of the Deregulated Market,
And with the Market is worshipped and glorified.
We believe in one Globalised Economy.
We believe in one key business driver
For the increase in Gross Domistic Product.
We acknowledge one bottom line
For measurement of wealth.
We look for the resurgence of executive compensation packages
and the life of the financial years to come.
Amen.
Taken from Profits Without Honour? Economics, Spirituality and the Current Global Recession by Andrew Bradstock
Filed under: Book Reviews, Theology, World Christianity | Tags: Church in the Round, Feminist Ecclesiology, Letty Russell
In Church in the Round: Feminist Interpretation of the Church, Letty Russell sets out to identify the need for a feminist ecclesiology in the church today. According to Letty, a feminist ecclesiology advocates for the radical inclusion of women, along with others from the margins of society, in the household of God. Given the dominant role that patriarchal structures of church governance have played in centuries past, she contends that now is the time of decision, a kairos moment. It is time that we call attention to the injustices of exclusion and oppression and begin to order our communities not according to privileged hierarchy, but in “kitchen table” solidarity with the marginalized. To do so, Russell argues for a table principle that “looks for ways that God reaches out to include all those whom society and religion have declared outsiders (25).” Such a reversal, she suggests, will undoubtedly cause the church to rethink the foundations upon which her traditions have been built, such as masculinity and hierarchy, and empower the voiceless to finally “talk back”. When this happens, as it does in feminist communities across the world, the church at last experiences the God-given gift of diversity and recaptures the beauty of joining God in the mending of creation by fighting injustice and healing the deep wounds of systemic sin in the world.
According to Russell, feminism is not an ideology that stands against the rights of men. Rather, feminism is an “advocacy word” (22). It is a movement that not only awaits, but works toward the day when “every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low (Luke 3:5).” In a world that has often been, and still is, dominated by privileged few, feminism is an ideology oriented towards the liberation of those excluded and marginalized in society. In this sense, a feminist ecclesiology is an “advocacy theology” that speaks out on behalf of those on the underside of oppressive power structures and advocates for radical inclusivity in Christian community. For Russell, this is not a matter of parting with tradition. To the contrary, by way of a feminist ecclesiology, she desires to recover the central thrust of Jesus’ life (on which tradition claims to have been established) – that is, to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to captives, and let the oppressed go free (from Luke 4:18). Of course, feminism does draw a special attention to the abuses of patriarchy and its injustices against the dignity of women. However, to limit feminism to its advocacy for women would be a misunderstanding.
Central to Russell’s feminist ecclesiology is the image of a household. The household of God is characterized by inclusivity and shared partnership, whereas the dominant structures of Christian tradition typically promote exclusion and uniformity. The ultimate goal of God’s household, according to Russell, “is to do away with the margin and the center by joining the one who is at the center of life in the church but dwells on the margin where he lived and died (27).” In order for communities to live and operate within this framework, she argues for the necessity of a “table principle”. The table principle represents hospitality and by nature subverts the boundaries created by systems constructed on the basis of patriarchy and exclusion. Furthermore, the table principle acknowledges the importance of choosing the margin as a place to both stand in solidarity with the oppressed and work towards reclaiming the center “in order to gain the ability to talk back (26).”
Like liberation theology, feminist ecclesiology begins with the experience of those who find themselves on the margins of society (especially oppressed women), and constructs its theology from the paradigm of their experience. According to Russell, “what you see depends on where you are standing (29).” And following Jesus as the peasant Jew who gave his life to bringing “good news to the poor,” some might argue that all Christians (not only feminists) have a scriptural obligation to (re)read the Bible and tradition from the point of view of the marginalized. From a feminist perspective, then, tradition is never understood as absolute or universal, but as always being contingent upon an ever-evolving present. In Russell’s words, “Tradition witnesses to the presence of God in Jesus Christ and in our lives, but its meaning changes as the context of the message and the messengers change (38).” This is precisely why the task of the church, as the body of believers called to join God in the renewal of all things, is never complete. We must always be asking, Where are the oppressed, and how can we orient our lives around Jesus’ invitation to stand in solidarity with those on the margins?
While Russell critiques the patriarchy found in much of Christian tradition, she is not opposed to institutionalization or organized leadership. In fact, she notes that most feminist communities are part of “well-organized networks of groups (93).” What she and other feminists are opposed to, however, are structures and forms of leadership that favor old models of hierarchy that delegate power to the privileged. If churches and other Christian communities are going to operate by the standards of God’s household, they must promote and facilitate shared partnership and solidarity with the poor and oppressed. For Russell, this is non-negotiable. The witness of the church must be rooted in a life of hospitality for all (110). This ethic of hospitality inevitably results in radical diversity within community. This is an important part of feminist ecclesiology. In structures of patriarchy and exclusion, “community is deformed for the sake of uniform order (161).” However, Christian feminist spirituality assumes that true community is not built on sameness, but out of difference (195).
Church in the Round is a significant contribution to the study of ecclesiology. In her work, Russell convincingly argues for a feminist understanding of the church as a community set apart by God to practice radical hospitality. The attention she draws to the oppressive ways of patriarchal structures of hierarchy and exclusion along with her prophetic call to the church to participate with God in the mending of creation through standing in solidarity with the powerless and giving voice to the voiceless are messages we would all do well to hear.
On the other hand, the notion of inclusivity that Russell so fiercely advocates for raises questions concerning the criteria by which one is determined to be worthy of inclusion. For instance, in the case that a male chauvinist requested a seat at Russell’s kitchen table, would he be permitted? If so, what would be the moral standard expected of him? And if not, what does this say about the inclusivity of that community? My point in raising questions such as these is to bring attention to a fundamental issue I have with claims of inclusivism. Whether or not a community holds strictly to such an ethic, there are always moral expectations. I expect that, for Russell, determining these expectations would be a communal endeavor given her emphasis on developing contextual theologies from within communities of faith and struggle. However, if these communities are self-identifiably feminist in orientation, to what extent do the determined moral expectations reflect the kind of diversity she promotes? In my opinion, these questions deserve more attention than were given in Church in the Round.
Nevertheless, Russell’s work stands as a challenge to all believers to rethink both tradition and our readings of scripture in light of the experience of those on the underside of power. It is evident that her aim is to join God in the healing and restoration of the world by standing in solidarity with not only women, but all who have been victims of systemic sin and injustice. For this reason, her seat at the table is important. But be careful… she just might turn your theology of the church upside down.
Filed under: Booknotes, Eschatology, Theology | Tags: Abraham Kuyper, Anthony Hoekema, Eschatology, George Eldon Ladd, Kingdom of God, Presence of the Future, The Bible and the Future
The most widely accepted understanding of the kingdom of God is that its primary meaning is the rule or reign of God rather than a territory over which it rules. Though occasionally the term kingdom has spatial connotations, as referring to an order of things or a state of peace and happiness, it usually describes the reign of God over his people. The kingdom of God, therefore, is to be understood as the reign of God dynamically active in human history through Jesus Christ, the purpose of which is the redemption of his people from sin and from demonic powers, and the final establishment of the new heavens and new earth. It means that the great drama of the history of salvation has been inaugurated, and that the new age has been ushered in. The kingdom must not be understood as merely the salvation of certain individuals or even as the reign of God in the hearts of his people; it means nothing less than the reign of God over his entire created universe. ‘The Kingdom of God means that God is King and acts in history to bring history to a divinely directed goal.’[1]
Being a citizen of the kingdom means that we should see all of life and all of reality in the light of the goal of the redemption of the cosmos. This implies, as Abraham Kuyper once said, that there is not a thumb-breadth of the universe about which Christ does not say, ‘It is mine.’ This implies a Christian philosophy of history: all of history must be seen as the working out of God’s eternal purpose. This kingdom vision includes a Christian philosophy of culture: art and science reflect the gory of God and are therefore to be pursued for his praise. It also includes a Christian view of vocation: all callings are from God, and all that we do in everyday life is to be done to God’s praise, whether this be study, teaching, preaching, business, industry, or housework.
[1] G.E. Ladd, Presence of the Future, 331
The gospels speak of two kinds of grave.
One was whitewashed, the other was empty.
The whitewashed grave is the symbol of the false facade,
of the outwardly beautiful appearance that does not last.
The empty grave was the grave of the God-man, Jesus
Christ, the one who was himself emptied….
Around the emptiness of the grave were born both
the hope of the future and the Church, which was, is and
must always be the Message of what is to come.
Robert Adolfs | Grave of God
Filed under: Christ and Culture, Good Times, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: California Natives, Long Beach, Origins Church, School Gardens, Serve the City
A couple months ago the Origins Church community in Long Beach participated in a city wide event that involved local churches serving their neighbors. I posted about the event in detail here.
Given our ongoing relationship with an elementary school in our neighborhood, we were blessed to have the opportunity to plant California native gardens at the school with some of their students. Below are some pictures from the day.
Filed under: Book Reviews, Eschatology, Theology | Tags: Heaven, Mission, N.T. Wright, Resurrection, Surprised by Hope
In Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church, N.T. Wright aims to draw attention to significant errors concerning the Christian belief in the afterlife and in turn articulate a perspective of future hope that is biblically rooted and historically orthodox. Assuming that most people are fundamentally flawed in their views concerning orthodox Christian belief, Wright sets up his thesis by identifying two common misunderstandings of Christian hope: 1) the view that defines this world as essentially temporal and as having been given over to death and decay, thus finding hope in trading this world for a disembodied future with God in a place called heaven and 2) the view that human beings are continuing to evolve and improve along with our development of science and technology and are working towards building God’s kingdom on earth by our own hands. With these two divergent positions in mind, he then argues for a more biblical view of Christian hope within the framework of God’s promised future as having arrived in the present in and through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Wright understands this to have been a climactic event within history to reclaim God’s good creation once again under the Lordship and reign of His Son. Finally, he argues that not only do our understandings of Christian hope dramatically shape how we view the mission of the Church, but he also expresses with deep sentiment that understanding the resurrection through the lens of new creation is exactly what this world has been waiting for.
While Wright’s examples of popular views concerning heaven and/or the afterlife are often and admittedly caricatures, he does provide his readers with an exploration into the underlying conditions that have given way to such perspectives. With regards to the view that understands this life as a temporary dwelling place and real hope as that moment when we pass on to an eternal life of disembodied spiritual bliss, Wright identifies Plato and later influences of Gnosticism as the fertile soil from which such notions of the afterlife have emerged and become dominant. Of course, he denounces this view as decidedly un-Christian and points out that it was not until the late second century that views like this began to have an impact on Christian theology. Similarly, Wright locates recent attempts to rationalize the resurrection and traditional views of Christian hope as being rooted in the eighteenth-century Enlightenment (also replete with Gnostic tendencies), which understood “the human project… could and would continue to grow and develop, producing unlimited human improvement… marching toward a utopia (82).” Exposing it for its fallacies, he goes so far to suggest that this utopian dream “is in fact a parody of the Christian vision (82).”
For Wright, the early Christians neither found their hope in escaping this material world for a more spiritual world nor in the notion that they could in fact build God’s kingdom by the work of their hands here on earth. According to Wright, early Christians held tightly to the belief that God had launched his project of new creation in the death and resurrection of Jesus, the Messiah. By the very nature of this climactic event within history, evil had been defeated and thus, human beings from every tongue, tribe, and nation were invited to join in the work of remaking this world. For these Christians, resurrection was about the defeat of evil and the rescuing of this world from its slavery to death and decay.
Wright goes on to spend a considerable amount of space discussing first-century Jewish and Christian views of resurrection, ascension, and the second coming. During this time he contends that resurrection was used by Jews to “denote new bodily life after whatever sort of life after death there might be (36).” In other words, “resurrection meant bodies (36).” Hence, Jesus was raised to new bodily life as the first fruits of what God was going to do for the entire cosmos (1 Cor. 15:20). But he was also recorded as having ascended to the right hand of the Father in heaven. After explaining the distinctly Jewish view of heaven and earth as “opposite poles within creation… made for union, not competition (105),” Wright describes Jesus’ ascension in terms of his having “gone ahead of us into God’s space, God’s new world (113).” Now that Jesus is seated at the right hand of the Father, the Holy Spirit is sent to guide the Church as she works in accordance with the will of the Father on earth as in heaven until the day of His final appearance when the veil will be lifted and the earth filled with the knowledge of the Lord.
Living in the present, in between ascension and Christ’s final appearing, we work for God’s kingdom, which has come bursting forth into history in anticipation of what God will do for the entire cosmos. The task of mission and evangelism then is enveloped within the overarching story of God’s new creation that has begun in Christ. As we go forward into the world in faith, hope, and love, healing the sick and binding up the broken hearted, we announce that this is the way of God’s kingdom and invite others to wake up to the good news – the good news that God’s new world has dawned and it is time that we live by its light! We welcome people of every gender, race, and creed into the family of God through baptism – dying to the old and embracing the new – and celebration of the Eucharist – living in light of Jesus’ redeeming work on the cross. We offer prayers with the hope of sharing God’s life and seeing the world through his redeeming love. We live by the narrative of new creation found in the Scriptures, and as we move forward with the authority and power of the Holy Spirit, we learn the kind of love with which resurrection life consumes us, exuding it wherever we go and in everything we do.
Wright’s goal in Surprised by Hope is to give his readers a broad overview of how the biblical narrative speaks in relation to God’s future. In doing so, his critiques of both Platonic dualism and Enlightenment’s progress, along with their effects on Christianity (both conservative and liberal strands), are sound and well developed. His treatment of first-century Jewish beliefs about resurrection demand more space, but he uses an ample amount of New Testament texts, interpreted in light of God’s action in Israel’s history, to support his position. And while they are not treated with great precision, he does engage some common hang-ups concerning the resurrection life to come such as the threat of over-population and postmortem cremation and decay.
What I appreciated most about Surprised by Hope, however, was that, despite his emphasis on an overarching biblical framework of new creation, Wright still managed to give a significant amount of space to its implications for the mission of the local church. Actually, by insisting on starting with the big picture of new creation and locating the particularities of mission within the whole he was able to inspire hope in the life of a twenty-five year old husband, pastor, and seminary student – hope that the work God has called me to is not in vain and that, even amidst seasons of life that are fraught with uncertainty, God’s new world has indeed begun. This is something I have often struggled to see. But whether it is striving to care for my wife with self-giving love and generosity, giving significant amounts of time to lectures and reading, tutoring fifth-grade students at a local elementary school, or simply sharing life with a group of men over cold beer, N.T. Wright’s work has helped restore in me the confidence to know that my life can testify to God’s kingdom and the hope to believe that though I now stand incomplete, we all await the glorious day when God’s resurrection life will flood the earth and everything will be made new.
Filed under: Christ and Culture, Theology, World Christianity | Tags: Gay Marriage, Homosexuality, Mail Online, Pew Forum, Quakers, Same Sex Weddings, Society of Friends
As conversations continue to emerge across the denominational spectrum concerning the blessing of homosexual unions, it is my opinion that we can no longer catalogue this debate under the labels of liberal/conservative, but must recognize this to be a much broader phenomenon.
Filed under: Booknotes, Politics, Quotation Marks, Theology | Tags: David Gushee, Dominic Crossan, Glen Stassen, Gospel of Mark, John Howard Yoder, Kingdom Ethics, Marcus Borg, N.T. Wright
Mark 12:13-17
Later they sent some of the Pharisees and Herodians to Jesus to catch him in his words. They came to him and said, “Teacher, we know that you are a man of integrity. You aren’t swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are; but you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not? Should we pay or shouldn’t we?”
But Jesus knew their hypocrisy. ”Why are you trying to trap me?” he asked. ”Bring me a denarius and let me look at it.” They brought the coin, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?”
“Caesar’s,” they replied.
Then Jesus said to them, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”
It never ceases to amaze me how many “Bible believing” Christians use this passage to support blind submission to government. I have read some significant contextual work done concerning this passage by Marcus Borg, Dominic Crossan, NT Wright, and John Howard Yoder in the past. However, today in my reading of Kingdom Ethics by Glen Stassen and David Gushee I came across this wonderful commentary…
Jesus’ teaching “render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Mk 12:13-17//Mt 22:15-22//Lk 20:20-26) concerns paying the tribute tax to Caesar. Ched Myers (Binding the Strong Man, 310) says the question was “a test of loyalty that divided collaborators from subversives against the backdrop of revolt.” The tax was oppressive to the poor, and it was idolatrous for faithful Jews. Jesus was so concerned about justice for the poor and so emphatically taught service to God alone that his action of getting the Pharisees and Herodians to come up with a coin, and then holding it up and asking whose image was on it, exposed their collaboration with the Roman power structure and distanced himself from it. He was confronting the injustice of the Roman tax and the collaboration of the Pharisees and Herodians, while at the same time advocating peaceful conduct. Jesus’ reply is an antithetical parallelism, in which the second line, “render to God was is God’s,” actually includes everything, since everything belongs to God. It means “render to Caesar only what is consistent with God’s will” (Kingdom Ethics, 359).
Filed under: Emergent Church, Theology, World Christianity | Tags: Anglican Communion, Episcopal Church, Gene Robinson, Homosexual Ordination, Homosexuality, Justice, N.T. Wright
Bishop Gene Robinson
On Monday the House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church in the United States voted to overturn a three-year moratorium on the election of gay bishops (Instituted after the ordination of Gene Robinson in 2003). This could potentially pave the way not only for the election of gay bishops in The Episcopal Church, but also for the blessing of same-sex relationships. If these measures are approved in the upcoming General Convention, key figures within the Anglican Communion are saying it will likely lead to schism.
Here are some thoughts from Bishop of Durham, N.T. Wright:
… matters didn’t begin with the consecration of Gene Robinson. The floodgates opened several years before, particularly in 1996 when a church court acquitted a bishop who had ordained active homosexuals. Many in TEC have long embraced a theology in which chastity, as universally understood by the wider Christian tradition, has been optional.That wider tradition always was counter-cultural as well as counter-intuitive. Our supposedly selfish genes crave a variety of sexual possibilities. But Jewish, Christian and Muslim teachers have always insisted that lifelong man-plus-woman marriage is the proper context for sexual intercourse. This is not (as is frequently suggested) an arbitrary rule, dualistic in overtone and killjoy in intention. It is a deep structural reflection of the belief in a creator God who has entered into covenant both with his creation and with his people (who carry forward his purposes for that creation).
Bishop N.T. Wright
Paganism ancient and modern has always found this ethic, and this belief, ridiculous and incredible. But the biblical witness is scarcely confined, as the shrill leader in yesterday’s Times suggests, to a few verses in St Paul. Jesus’s own stern denunciation of sexual immorality would certainly have carried, to his hearers, a clear implied rejection of all sexual behaviour outside heterosexual monogamy. This isn’t a matter of “private response to Scripture” but of the uniform teaching of the whole Bible, of Jesus himself, and of the entire Christian tradition.
The appeal to justice as a way of cutting the ethical knot in favour of including active homosexuals in Christian ministry simply begs the question. Nobody has a right to be ordained: it is always a gift of sheer and unmerited grace. The appeal also seriously misrepresents the notion of justice itself, not just in the Christian tradition of Augustine, Aquinas and others, but in the wider philosophical discussion from Aristotle to John Rawls. Justice never means “treating everybody the same way”, but “treating people appropriately”, which involves making distinctions between different people and situations. Justice has never meant “the right to give active expression to any and every sexual desire”.
N.T. Wright suggests, “nobody has the right to be ordained: it is always a gift of sheer and unmerited grace” and that “justice never means ‘treating people the same way’, but ‘treating people appropriately’, which involves making distinctions between different people and situations.” I have two questions:
1) To whom is the authority given to administer this gift of ordination?
2) Who exactly serves as the hermeneutical (interpretive) authority by which “distinctions” such as those Wright speaks of are made on behalf of an international body of believers?
While I anticipate answers that appeal to Biblical authority, ecclesial tradition, and the leading of the Holy Spirit, I believe this conversation is far from over and will be for quite some time.
Any thoughts?
Filed under: Emergent Church, Emerging Church, Random Musings, Theology | Tags: Baptism, Communion, Eucharist, Lord's Supper, Sacraments
Lately a friend of mine and I have been considering what is truly at stake when Christians participate in the sacraments. The following are some thoughts that we have given to the subject in light of our journey with the community of faith of which we are a part.
Whether it be represented in the matzo and wine or the waters of baptism, the very nature of the sacraments invites us to encounter the mysterious truth contained within the events themselves. This does not allow for passive consumption, for that would render the sacrament a commodity that merely serves to satisfy a religious desire. Instead, the sacrament is an event that calls us to postures of identification, participation, and (trans)formation
Identification in the event of the sacraments is experienced as active remembering. We participate in the sacraments by remembering that God, revealed by and in Jesus Christ, identifies with us and has forever welcomed our humanity into His divinity. In other words, in the sacraments of the Eucharist and Baptism we remember that God has reserved a place for his Church in the eternal fellowship of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
However, remembering the profound and wondrous truth of God’s identification with us by way of incarnation is merely the window through which we come to recognize that faithfulness to Christ calls us to an identification with his life, death, and resurrection. In the event of the sacraments, not only do we remember that God identifies with our humanity, but we remember the call to show solidarity with the way of divinity as revealed in Jesus by dying to the old and living in light of the new (e.g. Baptism) and by being a people who are continually broken and poured out for the healing of the world (e.g. Eucharist).
Furthermore, whether seated at the table or standing on the bank of the river, the sacramental events of the Eucharist and Baptism leave us with a moment of decision. Either we accept their invitation to encounter and thus identify with the stories they tell, allowing them to transform the way we live in the world, or we refuse them as myths that have no bearing on our lives whatsoever. It is that simple. This is undoubtedly the thrust of Jesus’ message throughout the gospel narratives (e.g. “anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple”).
When we come to actively participate in the event of the sacraments, their stories reframe the way we see and thus experience all of life. Hence, participation might be summed up as the actions that evidence one’s reflective commitment to embrace these narratives contained within the sacraments as the defining reality through which we view our vocation as Christians.
However, we must not confuse participation with formation. After all, it is only when one begins to walk in light of the way he/she now sees all of life that we can be assured that identification was not merely cognitive and that participation was not just another attempt to satiate a personal religious craving. In other words, engaging the sacraments is consummated in the process of (trans)formation. Formation most certainly takes time. Nonetheless, this journey of being made into the image of Christ finds its initiation in both an individual and collective encounter with the transforming reality that is harbored within the event of the sacraments.
Lastly, while the event of the sacraments may be limited to an historical time or occurrence, the narratives contained within these events continually serve to remind us of the call to be shaped by their truth. For example, once having given one’s self to being plunged into the waters of baptism, we treat this as a sign and a symbol (a narrative framework) that serves to forever draw us into being formed by the profound truth that we are now a new creation in Christ. In this way, the significance of the sacraments for the identity and mission of the Church is found in the event of our encounter with them through the postures of identification, participation and (trans)formation.
Filed under: Booknotes, Emergent Church, Eschatology, Other Links, Quotation Marks, Theology | Tags: Eschatology, Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope
Hope finds in Christ not only a consolation in suffering, but also the protest of the divine promise against suffering. If Paul calls death the ‘last enemy’ (1 Cor. 15.26), then the opposite is also true: that the risen Christ, and with him the resurrection hope, must be declared to be the enemy of death and of a world that puts up with death. Faith takes up this contradiction and thus becomes itself a contradiction to the world of death. That is why faith, wherever it develops into hope, causes not rest but unrest, not patience but impatience. It does not calm the unquiet heart, but is itself this unquiet heart in man. Those who hope in Christ can no longer put up with reality as it is, but begin to suffer under it, to contradict it. Peace with God means conflict with the world, for the goad of the promised future stabs inexorably into the flesh of every unfulfilled present…
This hope makes the Christian Church a constant disturbance in human society, seeking as the latter does to stabilize itself into a ‘continuing city’. It makes the Church a source of continual new impulses towards the realization of righteousness, freedom and humanity here in the light of the promised future that is to come. This Church is committed to ‘answer for the hope’ that is in it (1 Peter 3.15). It is called in question ‘on account of the hope and resurrection of the dead’ (Acts 23.6). Wherever that happens, Christianity embraces its true nature and becomes a witness of the future of Christ.
Filed under: Art, My Soundtrack, Other Links | Tags: Derek Webb, Stockholm Syndrome, What Matters More
You say you always treat people like you like to be
I guess you love being hated for your sexuality
You love when people put words in your mouth
‘Bout what you believe, make you sound like a freak
‘Cause if you really believe what you say you believe
You wouldn’t be so damn reckless with the words you speak
Wouldn’t silently conceal when the liars speak
Denyin’ all the dyin’ of the remedy
Tell me, brother, what matters more to you?
Tell me, sister, what matters more to you?
If I can tell what’s in your heart by what comes out of your mouth
Then it sure looks to me like being straight is all it’s about
It looks like being hated for all the wrong things
Like chasin’ the wind while the pendulum swings
‘Cause we can talk and debate until we’re blue in the face
About the language and tradition that he’s comin’ to save
Meanwhile we sit just like we don’t give a shit
About 50,000 people who are dyin’ today
Tell me, brother, what matters more to you?
Tell me, sister, what matters more to you?
Filed under: Art, Emergent Church, Emerging Church, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: Adam Moore, Grand Rapids, Novus Lumen, Peter Rollins, Poets Prophets Preachers, Rob Bell, Sermon, Shane Hipps
Check out Novus Lumen for a live blogging feed from the Poets.Prophets.Preachers conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan featuring Rob Bell, Shane Hipps, and Peter Rollins
Visit Adam Moore’s blog for updates throughout the conference.
Also, many are tweeting the event here.
Filed under: Art, Emerging Church, Other Links, Random Musings | Tags: Jonny Baker, Marshall McLuhan
you are the message | jonny baker
Reminds me of the famous quote from Marshall McLuhan, “The medium is the message”
