Greetings Bloggers-
Once again, please forgive my extended absence from the Blog. My reasons are, of course, school related. But after several weeks of a fairly insane schedule, including many pages both written and read, many sentences of Latin translated, and much crippling self doubt, I'm happy to report that I made it through the first semester relatively unscaithed. And it was a success. The best news is that my work earned me a three credit scholarship for next semester, which is a blessing and will be much help to us this coming year. But beyond the papers, the grades, and the scholarship, the best feeling about finishing a semester is the sheer realization that I have finished, and that I was not conquered. To be sure, there were many points in this semester that felt like I would not finish - several were reported here and several were just shared between my wife and me, and of course the Lord in prayer. But that first hurdle is over, the first leg of the mile, and I find myself in a healthy place in the pack.
Another highlight of these past few weeks include traveling to The Woodlands, Texas to attend the Christmas Conference of the John Wesley Fellows. The John Wesley Fellowship is a scholarship that I was fortunate enough to receive last spring, and it is one of the main reasons that I am able to pursue the PhD. The express purpose of the Fellowship is to be a source of renewal for the United Methodist Church by funding scholars with a heart for the church that they might be placed in colleges and seminaries to train pastors who can go into churches and form Christians. At the conference, I was introduced to a number of fellow students who have a similar mind and heart as myself. Additionally, I was introduced to several world class scholars who are currently in the work of church renewal. I was privileged to hear a presentation from and talk to a man who was a student of the latre Henri Nouwen, an amazing Catholic theologian whose writings evidence a deep and abiding communion with God. I was able to reconnect with my friend, teacher, and mentor from Asbury, Rich Cornell, who is also pursuing a PhD. I found out at the conference that the Fellowship is a good deal more than a scholarship - it is a chance to be a part of a great community of scholars, the hearts of whom are all for the church.
And now I am on a month long break! My wife is rather jealous, though I think she enjoys that I am not cooped up in my office every evening. And despite my success in the PhD program, I cannot for the life of me beat her at a simple game of Backgammon. Needless to say, my grandfather would be proud of her.
For those of my readers who are still with me, expect more on a regular basis - I'll try to get in some blogging between Playtstation games and Christmas movies!
Monday, December 18, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
From a Distance?
The Christmas season is upon us Bloggers!
Please forgive my absence. Alas, school work is bearing down and the days grow frighteningly short for the amount of work left. However, I felt the following deserved a brief comment.
There are countless examples these days of how a majority of people (Christians even?) while celebrating Christmas completely miss the significance of it. This hit me tonight as I was studying and listening to Jewel's Christmas album. one of the few Christmas CDs that my wife added to our immense collection (have I mentioned that I love Christmas music?) Unfortunately, in an otherwise fine album, she includes the song: "God is Watching Us From a Distance" (made famous by Bette Midler a few years ago). While it is certainly a nice sentiment, it does not belong on a Christmas album because the one truth of Christmas is that God came near! The incarnation is the story of the once distant God taking flesh to walk among us. And with the coming of the Spirit, the remaining truth of Christmas is that he never leaves! Even death does not separate him from us. Thus, to put "God is watching us from a distance" on a Christmas CD profoundly misses the point.
Might I suggest to Jewel "O Come O Come Emmanuel" instead. For as Matthew tells us, Emmanuel means "God with us." And, in my mind, nothing grasps the true meaning of Christmas better than those three words.
Please forgive my absence. Alas, school work is bearing down and the days grow frighteningly short for the amount of work left. However, I felt the following deserved a brief comment.
There are countless examples these days of how a majority of people (Christians even?) while celebrating Christmas completely miss the significance of it. This hit me tonight as I was studying and listening to Jewel's Christmas album. one of the few Christmas CDs that my wife added to our immense collection (have I mentioned that I love Christmas music?) Unfortunately, in an otherwise fine album, she includes the song: "God is Watching Us From a Distance" (made famous by Bette Midler a few years ago). While it is certainly a nice sentiment, it does not belong on a Christmas album because the one truth of Christmas is that God came near! The incarnation is the story of the once distant God taking flesh to walk among us. And with the coming of the Spirit, the remaining truth of Christmas is that he never leaves! Even death does not separate him from us. Thus, to put "God is watching us from a distance" on a Christmas CD profoundly misses the point.
Might I suggest to Jewel "O Come O Come Emmanuel" instead. For as Matthew tells us, Emmanuel means "God with us." And, in my mind, nothing grasps the true meaning of Christmas better than those three words.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
The Holy Calendar
At church this morning, our pastor addressed the upcoming events in the church's calendar, namely Advent, or as he put it, "the church's new year." His short discussion reminded me of how radically different than church's calendar is as compared to, for lack of a better term, our secular calendar. Here are a few of the poignant differences.
The church's calendar begins with Advent. The preparation for the birth of our Lord marks the chance for the church to be reborn and to begin anew walking with Christ to the cross. Christmas is of course the end of the year in the secular calendar, and I doubt that many non Christians understand what Advent is really about. New Year's is a time to make "resolutions" that everyone knows will not last more than a week.
In January, the church celebrates Epiphany, marking the time when the wisemen visited Jesus. Epiphany is also marked by the Mount of Transfiguration, where it is revealed to the disciples who Christ really is. The Orthodox Church views Epiphany as their high holiday (like our Christmas) for it marks the point when Christ is introduced to the East. January is a horrible month in the secular calendar, one to merely get through.
In March, the church begins a season of preparation called Lent. It is a time of sacrifice, of renting the body that we might be conformed to Christ as he makes his way to the cross. For the church knows that there is no Easter without Good Friday. In the secular calendar, March is typically the time of Spring Break, when the headonistic fantasies of college students are played out. If you don't believe me, tune into MTV this March. Its troubling to say the least.
In early April, the church celebrates the high point of her year, Easter. The celebration of when her Lord has risen and has given true meaning to our lives. The celebration of the beating down of death. And we sing the wonderful hymn of faith: "Lives again our glorious King; where, oh death, is now thy sting? Dying once, he all doth save; where thy victory, oh grave?" Easter in the secular calendar is a time to look for eggs.
50 days after Easter, the church celebrates Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit when we are given the first fruits of the Kingdom, when we are assured that even though Christ has ascended, God is with us. He is in our hearts. Roughly the same time in the secular calendar is the beginning of summer, which is truly the high point of the secular year.
Interestingly though, after Pentecost, the church enters into what I believe is called "Common Time." We rest in the knowledge during those days that Christ has risen and that God is with us in his Spirit. The next celebration of the church comes on the Sunday before Advent, Christ the King Sunday, where Christ is celebrated as the true King.
If you notice, the church's calendar is stark opposite of the secular calendar. When the secular calendar ends, the church's begins. When the secular calendar reaches its high point, the church is in rest. To me it is a beautiful reminder of how God, by coming into this world as a human, has sanctified time and made it his own. All those who follow Christ are a part of this holy time. Ours is a different calendar because ours is a different reality.
As my friend and pastor JD Walt said to me once, it ought to give us pause that we are much more familiar with the secular holidays - New Year's Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, etc. - than we are with the church's holidays.
As Advent nears, I encourage everyone to set aside some time to truly prepare to be reborn with Christ. And spend this next year walking with Christ in His time. You might find yourself at a cross while the rest of the world indulges. But then you might find yourself walking out of a tomb. In the words of that same Easter hymn: "Soar we now where Christ hath led; following our exalted head. Made like him, like him we rise; ours the cross, the grave, the skies."
The church's calendar begins with Advent. The preparation for the birth of our Lord marks the chance for the church to be reborn and to begin anew walking with Christ to the cross. Christmas is of course the end of the year in the secular calendar, and I doubt that many non Christians understand what Advent is really about. New Year's is a time to make "resolutions" that everyone knows will not last more than a week.
In January, the church celebrates Epiphany, marking the time when the wisemen visited Jesus. Epiphany is also marked by the Mount of Transfiguration, where it is revealed to the disciples who Christ really is. The Orthodox Church views Epiphany as their high holiday (like our Christmas) for it marks the point when Christ is introduced to the East. January is a horrible month in the secular calendar, one to merely get through.
In March, the church begins a season of preparation called Lent. It is a time of sacrifice, of renting the body that we might be conformed to Christ as he makes his way to the cross. For the church knows that there is no Easter without Good Friday. In the secular calendar, March is typically the time of Spring Break, when the headonistic fantasies of college students are played out. If you don't believe me, tune into MTV this March. Its troubling to say the least.
In early April, the church celebrates the high point of her year, Easter. The celebration of when her Lord has risen and has given true meaning to our lives. The celebration of the beating down of death. And we sing the wonderful hymn of faith: "Lives again our glorious King; where, oh death, is now thy sting? Dying once, he all doth save; where thy victory, oh grave?" Easter in the secular calendar is a time to look for eggs.
50 days after Easter, the church celebrates Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit when we are given the first fruits of the Kingdom, when we are assured that even though Christ has ascended, God is with us. He is in our hearts. Roughly the same time in the secular calendar is the beginning of summer, which is truly the high point of the secular year.
Interestingly though, after Pentecost, the church enters into what I believe is called "Common Time." We rest in the knowledge during those days that Christ has risen and that God is with us in his Spirit. The next celebration of the church comes on the Sunday before Advent, Christ the King Sunday, where Christ is celebrated as the true King.
If you notice, the church's calendar is stark opposite of the secular calendar. When the secular calendar ends, the church's begins. When the secular calendar reaches its high point, the church is in rest. To me it is a beautiful reminder of how God, by coming into this world as a human, has sanctified time and made it his own. All those who follow Christ are a part of this holy time. Ours is a different calendar because ours is a different reality.
As my friend and pastor JD Walt said to me once, it ought to give us pause that we are much more familiar with the secular holidays - New Year's Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, etc. - than we are with the church's holidays.
As Advent nears, I encourage everyone to set aside some time to truly prepare to be reborn with Christ. And spend this next year walking with Christ in His time. You might find yourself at a cross while the rest of the world indulges. But then you might find yourself walking out of a tomb. In the words of that same Easter hymn: "Soar we now where Christ hath led; following our exalted head. Made like him, like him we rise; ours the cross, the grave, the skies."
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Dreaded Retake, Part Three
To all my faithful bloggers and prayers:
I am happy to announce that the results are in and I passed my retake! (And I didn't even have to retype any answers!) This means that I can finally check the entrance exam requirement off my to do list. Thanks to all who prayed and continue to pray for me. This Phd process is certainly a difficult one, the biggest challenge I have ever faced. Some days I think that I am not cut out for it and honestly wonder if I have the ability to finish. These snippets of good news help me keep going, as do your faithful prayers.
I am happy to announce that the results are in and I passed my retake! (And I didn't even have to retype any answers!) This means that I can finally check the entrance exam requirement off my to do list. Thanks to all who prayed and continue to pray for me. This Phd process is certainly a difficult one, the biggest challenge I have ever faced. Some days I think that I am not cut out for it and honestly wonder if I have the ability to finish. These snippets of good news help me keep going, as do your faithful prayers.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Unpopular Theology
In an age of the church when popular theology, fed by numerous best selling Christian books and consistent messages from various pulpits, holds that God wants to bless us beyond our wildest imagination, and that he is the "Wish Fulfiller" and the "Dream Giver", the message of the martyrs still stands in stark contrast. The martyrs remind us that God's blessings are not always in this world. The following quotation is from the seventh century Father Maximus Confessor who, for all of his faith, piety, and devotion to God, had his tongue cut out and his right hand cut off:
"Pray through the Lord that God might perfect his mercy with our lowliness, and that He might teach us that those who sail along with Him experience a savage sea, like a ship which is driven about by winds and waves but stands firm and unshakable."
I also keep a quotation from Francis Asbury near my desk that challenges me on a daily basis:
"The more troubles I meet, the more convinced I am that I do the will of God."
I don't imagine that this kind of theology will ever be popular or will ever make the best seller list, but I do believe that it is true.
"Pray through the Lord that God might perfect his mercy with our lowliness, and that He might teach us that those who sail along with Him experience a savage sea, like a ship which is driven about by winds and waves but stands firm and unshakable."
I also keep a quotation from Francis Asbury near my desk that challenges me on a daily basis:
"The more troubles I meet, the more convinced I am that I do the will of God."
I don't imagine that this kind of theology will ever be popular or will ever make the best seller list, but I do believe that it is true.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Servant Leadership
In my Byzantine Theology class, we have been studying the writings of the rather enigmatic figure Dionysius the Areopagite, which had a major influence on theologians of the ensuing generations, both east and west. The mystery surrounding this small corpus is that, for all of their influence, no one is quite sure who the author is. He claims to be the first century figure mentioned in Acts 17, one of the only people to respond to the Apostle's Paul preaching. From historical clues in the writings, however, it is quite certain that the writer could not have been Paul's disciple. More likely these works came from the late fifth to early sixth century. Because of his pseudonym (and other arguably questionable material in his works), Dionysius has come under much criticism. Unfortunately, I think that these criticisms have obscured the amazing spirituality he represents.
Take for example his thoughts on the ecclesiastical hierarchy of leaders (Bishop - priests - deacons - monks - lay people). Of course, Protestants criticize this hierarchy because it seems to imply that some are closer to God or have more access to God or something. But when he explains the ordination process of each of these ministers, you catch a glimpse of the beautiful and if you can see through the symbols, you catch a glimpse of Christ. To summarize his discussion of the ordination ceremony:
1. Monks stand before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
2. Deacons kneel on one knee before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
3. Priests kneel on both knees before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
4. The Bishop kneels on both knees and literally places the Scriptures on his head, and is anointed by a fellow Bishop.
What amazes me about this seemingly straightforward ceremony is the symbolism in the posture. Notice that the "higher" one gets in the hierarchy of power, the "lower" they are prostrated. This displays in physical form the calling of Christ upon every human's life, but particularly upon those who would answer the call to shepherd others. This is a call to follow in the footsteps of Christ, "who did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped but made himself nothing taking the very form of a slave."
This beautiful account of a sixth century ordination service reminds us that leaders in the church are not called to greater stature and greater power (as leaders in the world are); rather, leaders in the church are called to be the servant of others, as Christ was the servant of all. This is a message, I think, that many of today's church leaders need desperately to hear and desperately to grasp. It is likewise a message that I, as I prepare to be a "Doctor", whatever that means, need to hear and grasp.
Take for example his thoughts on the ecclesiastical hierarchy of leaders (Bishop - priests - deacons - monks - lay people). Of course, Protestants criticize this hierarchy because it seems to imply that some are closer to God or have more access to God or something. But when he explains the ordination process of each of these ministers, you catch a glimpse of the beautiful and if you can see through the symbols, you catch a glimpse of Christ. To summarize his discussion of the ordination ceremony:
1. Monks stand before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
2. Deacons kneel on one knee before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
3. Priests kneel on both knees before the altar and are anointed by the Bishop.
4. The Bishop kneels on both knees and literally places the Scriptures on his head, and is anointed by a fellow Bishop.
What amazes me about this seemingly straightforward ceremony is the symbolism in the posture. Notice that the "higher" one gets in the hierarchy of power, the "lower" they are prostrated. This displays in physical form the calling of Christ upon every human's life, but particularly upon those who would answer the call to shepherd others. This is a call to follow in the footsteps of Christ, "who did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped but made himself nothing taking the very form of a slave."
This beautiful account of a sixth century ordination service reminds us that leaders in the church are not called to greater stature and greater power (as leaders in the world are); rather, leaders in the church are called to be the servant of others, as Christ was the servant of all. This is a message, I think, that many of today's church leaders need desperately to hear and desperately to grasp. It is likewise a message that I, as I prepare to be a "Doctor", whatever that means, need to hear and grasp.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Update on the Dreaded Retake
To all my faithful bloggers and prayers-
Thank you for your prayers this morning. I know that some say "I felt your prayers today," and while I cannot say that I felt anything supernatural this morning, I did feel the test went well. The question I had hoped would be on there was - I wrote three pages this morning on the differences between Catholicism and Martin Luther's doctrine of justification by faith. And I think that it went well. I did the best that I could do. It is hard to be overly optimistic as I felt that I did great on this section the first time around, but I will dwell on it. For now I will just return to studying my normal material and wait on the examiners to make out my scrawly handwriting. Let us hope that they experience something supernatural so that they can make out what apparently is the worst handwriting to ever come out of Marshalltown Iowa. :)
Today at 3:30 I present a paper and after that I believe that I am done until my final two papers and my final Latin exam. Which means I should start studying for them, oh I don't know, yesterday!
Thank you for your prayers this morning. I know that some say "I felt your prayers today," and while I cannot say that I felt anything supernatural this morning, I did feel the test went well. The question I had hoped would be on there was - I wrote three pages this morning on the differences between Catholicism and Martin Luther's doctrine of justification by faith. And I think that it went well. I did the best that I could do. It is hard to be overly optimistic as I felt that I did great on this section the first time around, but I will dwell on it. For now I will just return to studying my normal material and wait on the examiners to make out my scrawly handwriting. Let us hope that they experience something supernatural so that they can make out what apparently is the worst handwriting to ever come out of Marshalltown Iowa. :)
Today at 3:30 I present a paper and after that I believe that I am done until my final two papers and my final Latin exam. Which means I should start studying for them, oh I don't know, yesterday!
Monday, October 30, 2006
The Dreaded Retake
I know that many of my readers are faithful and consistent prayers - in fact I consider many of you role models in an area that I, quite frankly, struggle in. Therefore, I use this short blog for an update and a prayer request.
Marquette has an exam that all incoming PhD students have to take. It is a "pre-boards" of sort testing students on the knowledge that they have, or should have, acquired from their masters program. There are six different areas: Old Testament, New Testament, History 1 (early church to the medieval period), History 2 (late medieval period to modern), Theology and Ethics (Catholic Social Teaching). They offer such a daunting exam in order to make sure that all of their students are in the same place as they begin the PhD program. A seemingly adequate reason, however, it doesn't make it any easier for us rubes who never had Catholic Social Teaching (and I know of no other school who requires such an exam). But hey, I've never been one to complain.
I spent my entire summer studying for the exam (except for the two weeks we moved). Those in my family will remember the numerous boatrides that I missed to stay at the house reading obscure figures like Rahner and Tavard. Then, to add a little salt in the exposed wound, I had to take the blessed thing (an all day exam) on my second wedding anniversary.
The good news is that I passed five out of the six sections, failing only in history 2 (a bit problematic since I am emphasizing in historical theology). This means that I have to retake the part I failed (which was only one question), and that retake is Wednesday. I started studying fairly hard for it yesterday and will do so all day today and tomorrow (except for short breaks to attend classes). I'm feeling fairly good about it, as I remember much of what I studied this summer and I've acquired more notes in my short time here. Wednesday morning I will answer one question and be done with it. If I pass, no more will be said of it. If I fail, I will have to take a masters level class in the area, which will be quite expensive and will slow my program down a bit.
Hence the post. Please pray for me! Pray that I might remember this stuff and that I might be able to think clearly and (more importantly) write clearly on Wednesday morning - I had to retype a few questions the first time around. Pray also for my handwriting teacher who apparently didn't teach me a lick about good penmenship. That is all.
Marquette has an exam that all incoming PhD students have to take. It is a "pre-boards" of sort testing students on the knowledge that they have, or should have, acquired from their masters program. There are six different areas: Old Testament, New Testament, History 1 (early church to the medieval period), History 2 (late medieval period to modern), Theology and Ethics (Catholic Social Teaching). They offer such a daunting exam in order to make sure that all of their students are in the same place as they begin the PhD program. A seemingly adequate reason, however, it doesn't make it any easier for us rubes who never had Catholic Social Teaching (and I know of no other school who requires such an exam). But hey, I've never been one to complain.
I spent my entire summer studying for the exam (except for the two weeks we moved). Those in my family will remember the numerous boatrides that I missed to stay at the house reading obscure figures like Rahner and Tavard. Then, to add a little salt in the exposed wound, I had to take the blessed thing (an all day exam) on my second wedding anniversary.
The good news is that I passed five out of the six sections, failing only in history 2 (a bit problematic since I am emphasizing in historical theology). This means that I have to retake the part I failed (which was only one question), and that retake is Wednesday. I started studying fairly hard for it yesterday and will do so all day today and tomorrow (except for short breaks to attend classes). I'm feeling fairly good about it, as I remember much of what I studied this summer and I've acquired more notes in my short time here. Wednesday morning I will answer one question and be done with it. If I pass, no more will be said of it. If I fail, I will have to take a masters level class in the area, which will be quite expensive and will slow my program down a bit.
Hence the post. Please pray for me! Pray that I might remember this stuff and that I might be able to think clearly and (more importantly) write clearly on Wednesday morning - I had to retype a few questions the first time around. Pray also for my handwriting teacher who apparently didn't teach me a lick about good penmenship. That is all.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
This is My Story
Julie, my wife, will celebrate her birthday this Saturday. The other day I was at a card shop looking for that perfect card, which would express my love to her. I came upon a "Wedding" card that had these words written in it: "We live two lives, the second one starts when we are married." Nice sentimentality to be sure - in fact, I almost bought it. But as I reflected on it, I realized that it is profoundly mistaken. The truth is that we live two lives, and the second one starts when you are baptized, or in the words of my favorite theologian, when you "catch up to your baptism." That is, your second life truly begins when you come to saving faith in Christ.
When Julie and I were married, we both were walking with God; therefore, our marriage did not begin a new life, but rather was a glorious continuation (and one of the finest expressions) of our life with God. This truth was our reasoning for choosing Fanny Crosby's hymn "Blessed Assurance" for Julie to walk down the aisle. An odd choice in the eyes of many, but the words beautifully expressed our sentiments that day:
"This is my story, this is my song. Praising my savior all the day long."
We felt our marriage was part of God's greater story, not only in our lives, but in the Kingdom of God. We felt that God would continue and multiply the good works he had started in each of our lives as we joined together. We wanted the day to be about him, and only about us in so far as our marriage was an expression of his faithfulness. And that is how we have tried to live as a married couple, failing often, but keeping that as our goal.
"This my story, this is my song. Praising my savior all the day long."
As people, our lives change often. We are taken to new places, we start new jobs, we are children, we have children, and the list goes on. But if you are baptized into the community of faith, then these events are all seen as merely parts of the continuous story of God's work in his kingdom. And the story will reach its climax when we depart from this world and are, together with all the saints, married to the lamb. This is why I want "Blessed Assurance" played at my funeral. But this time I will be walking down the aisle, with my wife and others beside me, as we approach Christ, our blessed bridegroom.
When Julie and I were married, we both were walking with God; therefore, our marriage did not begin a new life, but rather was a glorious continuation (and one of the finest expressions) of our life with God. This truth was our reasoning for choosing Fanny Crosby's hymn "Blessed Assurance" for Julie to walk down the aisle. An odd choice in the eyes of many, but the words beautifully expressed our sentiments that day:
"This is my story, this is my song. Praising my savior all the day long."
We felt our marriage was part of God's greater story, not only in our lives, but in the Kingdom of God. We felt that God would continue and multiply the good works he had started in each of our lives as we joined together. We wanted the day to be about him, and only about us in so far as our marriage was an expression of his faithfulness. And that is how we have tried to live as a married couple, failing often, but keeping that as our goal.
"This my story, this is my song. Praising my savior all the day long."
As people, our lives change often. We are taken to new places, we start new jobs, we are children, we have children, and the list goes on. But if you are baptized into the community of faith, then these events are all seen as merely parts of the continuous story of God's work in his kingdom. And the story will reach its climax when we depart from this world and are, together with all the saints, married to the lamb. This is why I want "Blessed Assurance" played at my funeral. But this time I will be walking down the aisle, with my wife and others beside me, as we approach Christ, our blessed bridegroom.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Parents and Friends
Please pardon my brief absence from these pages, and thanks to those who were kind enough to remind me of said absence by email (Randy ;)). My excuse is not so much busyness in my studies, though I cannot say I haven't been busy, as it is that my parents (known affectionately here as MMK and Jackie) were in town this weekend for a visit. If you will further pardon a bit of self indulgence, I'd like to relay the wonderful weekend we enjoyed together.
Lots of sight seeing (they saw Marquette's campus and Julie's hospital) in beautiful rainy Milwaukee. They also experienced winter a bit earlier than even they are used to in Iowa. My mother made the interesting comment one chilly night that she wouldn't think there would be many homeless people in Milwaukee in the winter. "Wouldn't you think," she pondered, "that they would make there way to some place warmer . . . like Kansas?" A good obervation Mom, though Kansas might not be the optium locale either, what with the wind storms and Kansas State sports. We also shared a lovely dinner at a fancy seafood restaraunt right on the river. (I promise Dad, we did not know the ridiculous prices before choosing the place.) I relate these anecdotes to share what occurred to me more than ever before this weekend, namely that one's relationship with one's parents changes over time.
When you are a baby, you depend on your parents for everything. Without their constant care, the fact is that you would die of any number of things, including starvation for food or love. When you get a little older, you depend on them less, but though you don't always like to admit it, the truth remains that without them, you would still be in trouble to care for yourself. Many children start distancing themselves in high school, spending less and less time at home and more and more time with friends. This prepares you for college when you truly are on your own, for the first time. But let's be honest, how many college kids can make it through those first few years without frequent visits and phone calls, advances on money, and the occassional load of laundry brought home? The truth is that it is not until you have graduated and are out in the real world that you can say you no longer fully depend on your parents.
I believe I am truly fortunate that I have two parents whom I never wanted to rebel against, with whom I didn't mind spending weekends in high school (though an occassional date would have been nice), and whom I loved to have visit me in college. My dad used to stop by my house every Wednesday and take me to Fazolis. He's the first one I told about my calling to ministry. My mom used to take me out to coffee every Thursday, where we would talk long and hard about how I had no clue what I wanted to do. After I graduated, I worked as a youth pastor at my local church and lived at home for six months. Though I feigned that it was "to save money," the truth is that I enjoyed it (and the occassional date would have still been nice).
It wasn't until I lit off for Kentucky that I felt that I was truly on my own. Not that they did not continue to support me with many phone calls, visits, money and prayers, but the fact was that I could no longer see them on a regular basis - and that was very hard. What I noticed then when I would go home for breaks, and what I realize now more than ever, is that the nature of our relationship had changed. But this was not a bad thing.
Instead of being the kid who slept in and who was taken care of all the time, I now interact with them as adults. This weekend, as always, we had the best conversations about life, theology, family, old friends, etc. My parents told me old stories about their lives that they never would have told me as a child. I notice my parents now looking to me for advice. I notice my parents allowing me to pay for dinner (occassionally). I notice my parents being our guests in our home (my dad even slept in). And it makes me proud that for all they have done for me, I can do small things for them.
It is true that it is hard to grow up (or as my dad once said: "It's old to get hard!"). You miss being a kid, having no responsibilities and having no worries, knowing that no matter what, your parents will be there to bail you out (in some cases literally). But it is so rewarding to experience an adult relationship with the people who raised you. To call them, not just your dad and mom, but your friends. My parents are my best friends, and I have truly enjoyed every stage of life we've been through together. I might even say that the current stage is the best - and maybe they all continue to get better.
But it remains true that, even with the changed relationship and the increased responsibilities, I know my parents will always be there to take care of me, and, if necessary, to bail me out. The only difference is that now I can be the same for them (and judging from some of their old stories, I might be called upon to do just that). And I would be more than willing to because, after all, they are my parents. And they are my friends.
Dad, next time the crab's on me!
Lots of sight seeing (they saw Marquette's campus and Julie's hospital) in beautiful rainy Milwaukee. They also experienced winter a bit earlier than even they are used to in Iowa. My mother made the interesting comment one chilly night that she wouldn't think there would be many homeless people in Milwaukee in the winter. "Wouldn't you think," she pondered, "that they would make there way to some place warmer . . . like Kansas?" A good obervation Mom, though Kansas might not be the optium locale either, what with the wind storms and Kansas State sports. We also shared a lovely dinner at a fancy seafood restaraunt right on the river. (I promise Dad, we did not know the ridiculous prices before choosing the place.) I relate these anecdotes to share what occurred to me more than ever before this weekend, namely that one's relationship with one's parents changes over time.
When you are a baby, you depend on your parents for everything. Without their constant care, the fact is that you would die of any number of things, including starvation for food or love. When you get a little older, you depend on them less, but though you don't always like to admit it, the truth remains that without them, you would still be in trouble to care for yourself. Many children start distancing themselves in high school, spending less and less time at home and more and more time with friends. This prepares you for college when you truly are on your own, for the first time. But let's be honest, how many college kids can make it through those first few years without frequent visits and phone calls, advances on money, and the occassional load of laundry brought home? The truth is that it is not until you have graduated and are out in the real world that you can say you no longer fully depend on your parents.
I believe I am truly fortunate that I have two parents whom I never wanted to rebel against, with whom I didn't mind spending weekends in high school (though an occassional date would have been nice), and whom I loved to have visit me in college. My dad used to stop by my house every Wednesday and take me to Fazolis. He's the first one I told about my calling to ministry. My mom used to take me out to coffee every Thursday, where we would talk long and hard about how I had no clue what I wanted to do. After I graduated, I worked as a youth pastor at my local church and lived at home for six months. Though I feigned that it was "to save money," the truth is that I enjoyed it (and the occassional date would have still been nice).
It wasn't until I lit off for Kentucky that I felt that I was truly on my own. Not that they did not continue to support me with many phone calls, visits, money and prayers, but the fact was that I could no longer see them on a regular basis - and that was very hard. What I noticed then when I would go home for breaks, and what I realize now more than ever, is that the nature of our relationship had changed. But this was not a bad thing.
Instead of being the kid who slept in and who was taken care of all the time, I now interact with them as adults. This weekend, as always, we had the best conversations about life, theology, family, old friends, etc. My parents told me old stories about their lives that they never would have told me as a child. I notice my parents now looking to me for advice. I notice my parents allowing me to pay for dinner (occassionally). I notice my parents being our guests in our home (my dad even slept in). And it makes me proud that for all they have done for me, I can do small things for them.
It is true that it is hard to grow up (or as my dad once said: "It's old to get hard!"). You miss being a kid, having no responsibilities and having no worries, knowing that no matter what, your parents will be there to bail you out (in some cases literally). But it is so rewarding to experience an adult relationship with the people who raised you. To call them, not just your dad and mom, but your friends. My parents are my best friends, and I have truly enjoyed every stage of life we've been through together. I might even say that the current stage is the best - and maybe they all continue to get better.
But it remains true that, even with the changed relationship and the increased responsibilities, I know my parents will always be there to take care of me, and, if necessary, to bail me out. The only difference is that now I can be the same for them (and judging from some of their old stories, I might be called upon to do just that). And I would be more than willing to because, after all, they are my parents. And they are my friends.
Dad, next time the crab's on me!
Sunday, October 15, 2006
A 50 Cent Gem
You can find an amazing wealth of materials in church library book sales. This is rather unfortunate in one sense because the sale of 'old, unread books' is likely occurring to make room for the newest fads and trends of the Christian living genre. In my opinion, these new trends don't hold a candle to the classics - the Henri Nouwens and the Thomas Mertons of the world. What was it someone once said: "If its right, its not new; if its new, its not right." It is fortunate, however because for those who are willing to take the time to wade through the piles, you can find some gems.
Our church was having one of these sales today so Julie and I stopped in after service. We found 9 books for the grand total of $4.50! One that I am especially excited about is called: Meditations with Meister Eckhart. Meister Eckhart was a thirteenth century mystic and theologian who wrote profound mediatations on creation, its fall and its redemption. I plan to read it with my quiet times, so this blog might feature a Meister Eckhart quotation from time to time. You have been forewarned. I'll leave you with one today:
"All hiding places reveal God. If you want to escape God, He runs into your lap. For, God is at home. It is we who have gone out for a walk."
Our church was having one of these sales today so Julie and I stopped in after service. We found 9 books for the grand total of $4.50! One that I am especially excited about is called: Meditations with Meister Eckhart. Meister Eckhart was a thirteenth century mystic and theologian who wrote profound mediatations on creation, its fall and its redemption. I plan to read it with my quiet times, so this blog might feature a Meister Eckhart quotation from time to time. You have been forewarned. I'll leave you with one today:
"All hiding places reveal God. If you want to escape God, He runs into your lap. For, God is at home. It is we who have gone out for a walk."
Friday, October 13, 2006
The True Image of God
Much is made these days, in both Christian and theist (those who believe in a higher being but not necessarily the Christian God) circles about human beings created in the image of God. I think that what is normally meant by people who say this is that we are created with a soul or perhaps intelligence, thus distinguishing us from animals or other parts of creation. However, as I read the Fathers of the church, and particularly a group of fourth century Fathers known as the Cappadocians, it is becoming clear that the early Christians had a different definition of the image of God, one that was rooted in the question of what it means to be a person. (What follows is a bit theological and philosophical, but I will try to put it into understandable terms for both my readers and myself.)
The Greek philosophers did not have a clearly defined notion of a person. The closest they came was a "unique collection of properties." Thus, I am a person - the specific person Jackson Lashier - because I am a male, white, have freckles, have a right leg that is a bit shorter than the left, and the like. Though there may be other white males with freckles, there is no one else who has the exact same set of properties or characteristics that I do. While Christians incorporated this definition into their work, they expanded upon it, developing, as it were, a new vocabulary and a new definition of person.
So, the divine persons can also be defined as unique collections of properties. The Father is the Father because he is uncreated, he is the creator, etc. The Son is the Son because he is the one through whom all is created and he is the one who came to earth. The Spirit is the Spirit because he proceeds from the Father and he gives spiritual gifts etc. Thus, they are distinguished one from another, just as I am distinguished from my wife because, among other things, I am a male and she is a female.
But here is where it gets good. The Fathers believed that these unique sets of properties, though adequate for distinguishing the different members of the Trinity, were inadequate for making them persons. They took another step. What makes the Father, Son and Holy Spirit persons is that they exist in eternal communion with one another. To quote a Father: "There is apprehended among these three a certain ineffable and inconceivable communion." This communion is what moves them from the abstract notion of a "unique set of properties" to a person, and what distinguishes a Christian from a non Christian view of person.
What this means, I think, for the truth that we are created in the image of God is that we too are created to be in communion with others! The image of God in us is not simply our mind or soul, because people with minds and souls can be profoundly isolated. It means that we are created for relationship, the same kind that the Trinity has experienced for eternity. This is not to say that if someone is isolated that they are therefore not a person, but it is to say that, apart from vital communion, the fullness of our personhood and the image of God in us is not fully realized. This isolated person is in need of salvation. This is why the church is so important, and why the Christian life can never be simply "just God and me." The church puts us in communion with others and with the Trinity. Therefore, a crucial part of the salvation process is not simply "asking Jesus into one's heart," it's getting truly connected with others (Is it any wonder that the central act of the church is communion?)
This is the profound truth embedded in the words of Genesis 1:26, the key image of God text, which reads: "The God said, 'Let US make man in OUR image, according to OUR likeness.'" And when he creates, what does he create, but a communion: "male and female He created them" (Gen 1:27).
I hope that I have somewhat articulated the profound truth that I am currently working through. If you want a much better discussion of the same idea, check out Dennis Kinlaw's book, Let's Start With Jesus. Besides being profound, it is extremely readable and accessible. I believe chapter 3 targets this issue.
The Greek philosophers did not have a clearly defined notion of a person. The closest they came was a "unique collection of properties." Thus, I am a person - the specific person Jackson Lashier - because I am a male, white, have freckles, have a right leg that is a bit shorter than the left, and the like. Though there may be other white males with freckles, there is no one else who has the exact same set of properties or characteristics that I do. While Christians incorporated this definition into their work, they expanded upon it, developing, as it were, a new vocabulary and a new definition of person.
So, the divine persons can also be defined as unique collections of properties. The Father is the Father because he is uncreated, he is the creator, etc. The Son is the Son because he is the one through whom all is created and he is the one who came to earth. The Spirit is the Spirit because he proceeds from the Father and he gives spiritual gifts etc. Thus, they are distinguished one from another, just as I am distinguished from my wife because, among other things, I am a male and she is a female.
But here is where it gets good. The Fathers believed that these unique sets of properties, though adequate for distinguishing the different members of the Trinity, were inadequate for making them persons. They took another step. What makes the Father, Son and Holy Spirit persons is that they exist in eternal communion with one another. To quote a Father: "There is apprehended among these three a certain ineffable and inconceivable communion." This communion is what moves them from the abstract notion of a "unique set of properties" to a person, and what distinguishes a Christian from a non Christian view of person.
What this means, I think, for the truth that we are created in the image of God is that we too are created to be in communion with others! The image of God in us is not simply our mind or soul, because people with minds and souls can be profoundly isolated. It means that we are created for relationship, the same kind that the Trinity has experienced for eternity. This is not to say that if someone is isolated that they are therefore not a person, but it is to say that, apart from vital communion, the fullness of our personhood and the image of God in us is not fully realized. This isolated person is in need of salvation. This is why the church is so important, and why the Christian life can never be simply "just God and me." The church puts us in communion with others and with the Trinity. Therefore, a crucial part of the salvation process is not simply "asking Jesus into one's heart," it's getting truly connected with others (Is it any wonder that the central act of the church is communion?)
This is the profound truth embedded in the words of Genesis 1:26, the key image of God text, which reads: "The God said, 'Let US make man in OUR image, according to OUR likeness.'" And when he creates, what does he create, but a communion: "male and female He created them" (Gen 1:27).
I hope that I have somewhat articulated the profound truth that I am currently working through. If you want a much better discussion of the same idea, check out Dennis Kinlaw's book, Let's Start With Jesus. Besides being profound, it is extremely readable and accessible. I believe chapter 3 targets this issue.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Insights on Psalm 51
In the previous post, I discussed the positives and potential negatives of Scripture memorization. I received some excellent comments on each side of the issue, particularly from those indicating what incredible insights can come from Scripture memorization. As I have started memorizing Psalm 51, I have experienced some of these new insights of which many of you spoke, and I thought I would share them.
1. Psalm 51:1: "Be gracious to me, O God, according to your lovingkindness." This word lovingkindness is very prominent in the Old Testament and it is used to translate the Hebrew word which indicated God's covenant faithfulness. And if we see anything from the story of Israel, we see that God is faithful to his covenant even when his people are not. We call on God, here, to be gracious to us, not according to the good we have done, but according to HIS faithfulness. I don't deserve it, but I know that God will be gracious to me because he is faithful despite what I do.
2. Psalm 51:5-6: "Behold I was brought forth in iniquity and in sin my mother conceived me. Behold you desire truth in the innermost being and in the hidden part you will make me know wisdom." This verse indicates the predicament that we are all in, that we have been born into original sin, that we are sinners from birth. Many times, and I speak for myself here, I like to hide behind this. To justify my sin, in other words, because I can't help it. But notice how the Psalmist David does not stop at the truth of original sin, but continues on to where God is wanting to bring us - into truth and wisdom. Sin is our problem but it doesn't have to be our reality, for God desires us to know truth and to know wisdom. What is interesting about this "wisdom" is that the Fathers universally saw Wisdom as a name for Christ. So John's Gospel starts: "In the beginning was the Word." This Word (logos) is actually the Greek masculine form of sophia (the word translated from the Greek Psalm 51 as wisdom). Psalm 51 is saying that God desires us to know Christ in the innermost part. Wow!
3. Psalm 51:14: "Restore to me the joy of your salvation." I believe that as I read this Psalm in the past, I always thought or assumed that the "your" in this verse was actually "my" - restore to me the joy of my salvation. There might even be a praise chorus of this song which uses my. What is interesting to me is that David is asking God to give him joy of the Lord's salvation. The emphasis, in other words, is not on David's salvation, but on the Lord's salvation of all of creation, and David is a part of that. How often we reduce things to individual truths (God and me), when the biblical perspective is communal truths (God and us).
These are just a few of the insights that have come to me while memorizing this Psalm. It has been quite an exercise and what I like most about it is that I find Scripture reverberating in my head as I walk around, instead of the normal Seinfeld, baseball, One Crazy Summer junk that is often not productive. My prayer is that the development of this discipline in my life will be used by God to help me to know Wisdom in the hidden part.
1. Psalm 51:1: "Be gracious to me, O God, according to your lovingkindness." This word lovingkindness is very prominent in the Old Testament and it is used to translate the Hebrew word which indicated God's covenant faithfulness. And if we see anything from the story of Israel, we see that God is faithful to his covenant even when his people are not. We call on God, here, to be gracious to us, not according to the good we have done, but according to HIS faithfulness. I don't deserve it, but I know that God will be gracious to me because he is faithful despite what I do.
2. Psalm 51:5-6: "Behold I was brought forth in iniquity and in sin my mother conceived me. Behold you desire truth in the innermost being and in the hidden part you will make me know wisdom." This verse indicates the predicament that we are all in, that we have been born into original sin, that we are sinners from birth. Many times, and I speak for myself here, I like to hide behind this. To justify my sin, in other words, because I can't help it. But notice how the Psalmist David does not stop at the truth of original sin, but continues on to where God is wanting to bring us - into truth and wisdom. Sin is our problem but it doesn't have to be our reality, for God desires us to know truth and to know wisdom. What is interesting about this "wisdom" is that the Fathers universally saw Wisdom as a name for Christ. So John's Gospel starts: "In the beginning was the Word." This Word (logos) is actually the Greek masculine form of sophia (the word translated from the Greek Psalm 51 as wisdom). Psalm 51 is saying that God desires us to know Christ in the innermost part. Wow!
3. Psalm 51:14: "Restore to me the joy of your salvation." I believe that as I read this Psalm in the past, I always thought or assumed that the "your" in this verse was actually "my" - restore to me the joy of my salvation. There might even be a praise chorus of this song which uses my. What is interesting to me is that David is asking God to give him joy of the Lord's salvation. The emphasis, in other words, is not on David's salvation, but on the Lord's salvation of all of creation, and David is a part of that. How often we reduce things to individual truths (God and me), when the biblical perspective is communal truths (God and us).
These are just a few of the insights that have come to me while memorizing this Psalm. It has been quite an exercise and what I like most about it is that I find Scripture reverberating in my head as I walk around, instead of the normal Seinfeld, baseball, One Crazy Summer junk that is often not productive. My prayer is that the development of this discipline in my life will be used by God to help me to know Wisdom in the hidden part.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
An Overlooked Discipline
I have a confession to make. I've never been a big fan of Scripture memorization. I've done my fair share of it - though, truth be told, I've likely forgotten about as much as I've 'memorized' - but something always seemed wrong about it to me. I've heard the case for it, Scripture says to "hide the Word in your heart" and such, but to me, memorizing one verse out of Deuteronomy did not equate to hiding the Word in your heart.
When I got to Seminary, I found a concept for my anxst. It's called "prooftexting." Simply defined, this is the process of yanking one verse out of Scripture to back up some argument. More often than not, however, the verse is pulled out of context and used to defend something that has nothing to do with the actual verse. Prooftexting is fairly rampant among Christians these days, lay people and clergy alike. You hear people using "the Bible says" as a trump card for anything they like. I heard it all the time in my classroom at Lexington Christian Academy - often it was the boys quoting a verse out of 1 Timothy or Ephesians to tell a girl to be quiet. I've heard preachers quote verses to argue a point that is actually the exact opposite of what the verse is saying in its context. I'm almost convinced that if we tried hard enough, we could use the Bible to prove that Rumsfeld was in fact the second shooter on the grassy knoll. Such practices cheapen the richness of the Word, make it a punchline for jokes, and usually enforce some of the Christian stereotypes that I have spent the past few years trying to dispell.
For several years, I felt that the practice of memorizing Scripture actually encouraged this sort of flippant use of Scripture. After all, no one ever memorizes an entire book, and frequently, those who memorize small verses actually have no clue of where that verse falls in the larger story. I grew so skeptical of it that, last year at LCA, I downgraded Scripture memorization from crucial part of the grade to extra credit (that is until I was politely informed of the policies).
At the same time that my disgust was high, I continued to have great admiration for people who prayed or spoke in Scripture; people who would not use Scripture as a licence to hurt or a trump card, but who knew Scripture so well that their speech was literally peppered with it. JD Walt, my pastor at Asbury, was one of these people. In our visits, he would frequently recite a Psalm in answer to a question or dilemna I was having. And I was always comforted by the words. This was one person who truly had hidden the Word in his heart and it showed in his life.
I have been ruminating on this question for some time now and have decided that Scripture memorization can be a wonderful discipline and an excellent way to grow in holiness, so long as the dangers of "prooftexting" are avoided. I have decided that the way to avoid prooftexting, in my own developing discipline of memorization, is to focus on the Psalms. The Psalms are short, relatively easy to memorize in whole, and they were written for any situation. The fact is that you don't have to worry about placing Psalms in context because they all revolve around praise - and praise can and should be done in any situation.
I've started with Psalm 51 because it is one that I already know fairly well. Julie is starting with me and it has led to some poignant moments of reciting Scripture out loud together. I'm excited to see where this journey of "hiding the Word in our hearts" will take us. More details to come. I'd also be interested in hearing any of my reader's thoughts or stories on this discipline.
When I got to Seminary, I found a concept for my anxst. It's called "prooftexting." Simply defined, this is the process of yanking one verse out of Scripture to back up some argument. More often than not, however, the verse is pulled out of context and used to defend something that has nothing to do with the actual verse. Prooftexting is fairly rampant among Christians these days, lay people and clergy alike. You hear people using "the Bible says" as a trump card for anything they like. I heard it all the time in my classroom at Lexington Christian Academy - often it was the boys quoting a verse out of 1 Timothy or Ephesians to tell a girl to be quiet. I've heard preachers quote verses to argue a point that is actually the exact opposite of what the verse is saying in its context. I'm almost convinced that if we tried hard enough, we could use the Bible to prove that Rumsfeld was in fact the second shooter on the grassy knoll. Such practices cheapen the richness of the Word, make it a punchline for jokes, and usually enforce some of the Christian stereotypes that I have spent the past few years trying to dispell.
For several years, I felt that the practice of memorizing Scripture actually encouraged this sort of flippant use of Scripture. After all, no one ever memorizes an entire book, and frequently, those who memorize small verses actually have no clue of where that verse falls in the larger story. I grew so skeptical of it that, last year at LCA, I downgraded Scripture memorization from crucial part of the grade to extra credit (that is until I was politely informed of the policies).
At the same time that my disgust was high, I continued to have great admiration for people who prayed or spoke in Scripture; people who would not use Scripture as a licence to hurt or a trump card, but who knew Scripture so well that their speech was literally peppered with it. JD Walt, my pastor at Asbury, was one of these people. In our visits, he would frequently recite a Psalm in answer to a question or dilemna I was having. And I was always comforted by the words. This was one person who truly had hidden the Word in his heart and it showed in his life.
I have been ruminating on this question for some time now and have decided that Scripture memorization can be a wonderful discipline and an excellent way to grow in holiness, so long as the dangers of "prooftexting" are avoided. I have decided that the way to avoid prooftexting, in my own developing discipline of memorization, is to focus on the Psalms. The Psalms are short, relatively easy to memorize in whole, and they were written for any situation. The fact is that you don't have to worry about placing Psalms in context because they all revolve around praise - and praise can and should be done in any situation.
I've started with Psalm 51 because it is one that I already know fairly well. Julie is starting with me and it has led to some poignant moments of reciting Scripture out loud together. I'm excited to see where this journey of "hiding the Word in our hearts" will take us. More details to come. I'd also be interested in hearing any of my reader's thoughts or stories on this discipline.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The Holy Heretics
One of the curious details of church history is how surprisingly nasty some of our Fathers got in arguing against and denouncing those who later came to be known as "heretics" (those whose theological beliefs are inconsistent with Scripture and Tradition). A short example, the fifth century Father Cyril of Alexandria arguing against his nemesis Nestorius says of him: "What a servile mentality from a crazed brain that knows how to do nothing else but gabble." The scholarly euphemism for this style of writing is "polemics." Most of us might just say, "well that's pretty rude."
Of course the outcome of these "polemics" for the heretic is the dreaded "anathema," which means "let them be cursed." In other words, if you don't believe what we believe, you are cursed. A surprising amount of anathemas find there way into our creeds. We don't speak them on Sunday mornings, but historically they are there.
I am a firm believer that the Holy Spirit was present in the shaping of tradition, and the forming of the creeds, and that the Spirit indeed led the church into the right beliefs. I do believe, for example, that Cyril got it right and Nestorius got it wrong. The problem I am having is that, as I read some of these "heretics," I realize that they seem to have achieved a level of holiness that, at this point in my life, I could only hope for some distant day. Take the following quote from our old friend Jacob of Serug - denounced by the church as a heretic in the fifth century:
"O! hidden Word, which came down to the earth openly, give me of your wealth, that I may impart it amongst the poor. Lord most high, my mouth is insufficient for your praise: make a new mouth for me that it may proclaim your songs."
And this is just a sample . . . yet, the church has lost these writings because he has officially been declared "anathema." So the question is, what happened to Jacob? Because he got one thing wrong, was he malformed? Can you be mistaken in belief and yet still be formed after the character of Christ? Do you have to get every detail right to have the blood of Jesus cover you? And if you say no, where do we draw the line? Do those who don't believe Jesus is divine, for example, pass?
These are just thoughts that I am pondering as I am introduced to those outside the official walls of orthodoxy who seem to have figured out holiness in a way I - being on the inside of those walls - have not yet.
Of course the outcome of these "polemics" for the heretic is the dreaded "anathema," which means "let them be cursed." In other words, if you don't believe what we believe, you are cursed. A surprising amount of anathemas find there way into our creeds. We don't speak them on Sunday mornings, but historically they are there.
I am a firm believer that the Holy Spirit was present in the shaping of tradition, and the forming of the creeds, and that the Spirit indeed led the church into the right beliefs. I do believe, for example, that Cyril got it right and Nestorius got it wrong. The problem I am having is that, as I read some of these "heretics," I realize that they seem to have achieved a level of holiness that, at this point in my life, I could only hope for some distant day. Take the following quote from our old friend Jacob of Serug - denounced by the church as a heretic in the fifth century:
"O! hidden Word, which came down to the earth openly, give me of your wealth, that I may impart it amongst the poor. Lord most high, my mouth is insufficient for your praise: make a new mouth for me that it may proclaim your songs."
And this is just a sample . . . yet, the church has lost these writings because he has officially been declared "anathema." So the question is, what happened to Jacob? Because he got one thing wrong, was he malformed? Can you be mistaken in belief and yet still be formed after the character of Christ? Do you have to get every detail right to have the blood of Jesus cover you? And if you say no, where do we draw the line? Do those who don't believe Jesus is divine, for example, pass?
These are just thoughts that I am pondering as I am introduced to those outside the official walls of orthodoxy who seem to have figured out holiness in a way I - being on the inside of those walls - have not yet.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
"The Incredibly Wonderful Mystery of Christ"
The other day I struck up a conversation with a fellow student in the Graduate School of Theology who is Catholic. As we often do in this world, somehow we landed on the subject of Christ. She made the comment that many people in her tradition struggle with the truth that Jesus was literally divine. "Can you believe that?" she asked. I replied: "Actually, most people I run into in my tradition struggle with the fact that he was literally human."
This somewhat amusing exchange reminded me of a quote from the great fifth century saint and Father Cyril of Alexandria, who in his theological masterpiece "On the Unity of Christ", wrote the following:
"Indeed the mystery of Christ runs the risk of being disbelieved precisely because it is so incredibly wonderful. For God was in humanity. He who was above all creation was in our human condition; the invisible one was made visible in the flesh; he who is from the heavens and from on high was in the likeness of earthly things; the immaterial one could be touched; he who is free in his own nature came in the form of a slave; he who blesses all of creation became accursed; he who is all righteousness was numbered among transgressors; life itself came in the appearance of death."
The insight that Cyril and the other Fathers of that era drew out of the Scriptures, is that Christ had to be both human and divine, otherwise we would be left in our sin - that precisely is the incredibly wonderful mystery of Christ.
I'm also reminded of a story told by a more recent saint, the late singer/songwriter Rich Mullins. Once a man approached him to say that he had used Mullins' "Awesome God" as the theme of a protest event. "What were you protesting?" Mullins asked.
"The movie "The Last Temptation of Christ," the man answered.
"Why were you protesting it?" Mullins asked.
The man replied, "Because it portrays Christ as human."
Mullins responded, "Oh. I thought that was the good news."
This somewhat amusing exchange reminded me of a quote from the great fifth century saint and Father Cyril of Alexandria, who in his theological masterpiece "On the Unity of Christ", wrote the following:
"Indeed the mystery of Christ runs the risk of being disbelieved precisely because it is so incredibly wonderful. For God was in humanity. He who was above all creation was in our human condition; the invisible one was made visible in the flesh; he who is from the heavens and from on high was in the likeness of earthly things; the immaterial one could be touched; he who is free in his own nature came in the form of a slave; he who blesses all of creation became accursed; he who is all righteousness was numbered among transgressors; life itself came in the appearance of death."
The insight that Cyril and the other Fathers of that era drew out of the Scriptures, is that Christ had to be both human and divine, otherwise we would be left in our sin - that precisely is the incredibly wonderful mystery of Christ.
I'm also reminded of a story told by a more recent saint, the late singer/songwriter Rich Mullins. Once a man approached him to say that he had used Mullins' "Awesome God" as the theme of a protest event. "What were you protesting?" Mullins asked.
"The movie "The Last Temptation of Christ," the man answered.
"Why were you protesting it?" Mullins asked.
The man replied, "Because it portrays Christ as human."
Mullins responded, "Oh. I thought that was the good news."
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Authentic Community
In this fragmented and individualistic culture, my suspicion is that the deep longing of a majority of people - whether they know it or not - is to experience authentic community. But where is this authentic community to be found? As a follower of Christ, I would love to say that this community can only be found in the church, for such is the ideal that is presented in our Scriptures. Too often, however, this is not the case.
What is more often the case, in my limited experience, is that church is a "place" people go because it has become "the thing they do on Sunday morning." They trickle in, find their normal seats amongst others of the same color, listen or watch the show and go home, without uttering more words than the proverbial "good morning" to an usher or the collective "amen." In bigger congregations - the so called mega churches - the sanctuaries are more like movie theaters. You come in and take your seat near the aisle, making sure that you leave several seats between you and the nearest fellow worshipper, without realizing how foreign this mentality is to the historic People of God. My friends, this is not authentic community.
To my surprise, I have seen authentic community at the neighborhood Starbucks. It is clear that people know each other as most people who come through the door are greeted warmly, not only by the employees but by several patrons. The employee hands them their favorite drink and asks how they are doing, genuinely interested in the answer. There are people of all races, and diverse languages can be heard spoken in adjoining tables. For many, it is like coming home to family.
In our local Starbucks, there is a developmentally delayed woman named Francis who often comes in. She is never with anyone, so it appears that she lives by herself. What is amazing, however, is that the entire community has adopted her. Every employee knows her by name and knows what is going on in her life. Most of the regulars know her and regularly welcome conversation with her - she often will interupt patrons to say "hi," and be invited to join them. One night, we noticed that she had fallen asleep in a chair. No one bothered her or woke her up to ask her to move along. When she did wake up, she was a little disoriented. It was dark out and it was clear that she didn't know what she was going to do. One of the men noticed her apparent consternation and proceeded to call her a cab, wait with her outside for it to come, help her into the cab, and pay the driver out of his own pocket. It seems to me that this place has all of the marks of authentic community.
What is unfortunate is that, although they do community well, at the end of the day Starbucks can only offer a person a warm beverage and a clean, well lighted place to sit awhile. The church has in her possession the treasure of the living Gospel, with the power to transform lives. But this treasure is often obscured by inauthentic community. If the church could begin to live into the ideal of her Scriptures, we might see people pining for the Story in the way they now pine for a white chocolate mocha.
What is more often the case, in my limited experience, is that church is a "place" people go because it has become "the thing they do on Sunday morning." They trickle in, find their normal seats amongst others of the same color, listen or watch the show and go home, without uttering more words than the proverbial "good morning" to an usher or the collective "amen." In bigger congregations - the so called mega churches - the sanctuaries are more like movie theaters. You come in and take your seat near the aisle, making sure that you leave several seats between you and the nearest fellow worshipper, without realizing how foreign this mentality is to the historic People of God. My friends, this is not authentic community.
To my surprise, I have seen authentic community at the neighborhood Starbucks. It is clear that people know each other as most people who come through the door are greeted warmly, not only by the employees but by several patrons. The employee hands them their favorite drink and asks how they are doing, genuinely interested in the answer. There are people of all races, and diverse languages can be heard spoken in adjoining tables. For many, it is like coming home to family.
In our local Starbucks, there is a developmentally delayed woman named Francis who often comes in. She is never with anyone, so it appears that she lives by herself. What is amazing, however, is that the entire community has adopted her. Every employee knows her by name and knows what is going on in her life. Most of the regulars know her and regularly welcome conversation with her - she often will interupt patrons to say "hi," and be invited to join them. One night, we noticed that she had fallen asleep in a chair. No one bothered her or woke her up to ask her to move along. When she did wake up, she was a little disoriented. It was dark out and it was clear that she didn't know what she was going to do. One of the men noticed her apparent consternation and proceeded to call her a cab, wait with her outside for it to come, help her into the cab, and pay the driver out of his own pocket. It seems to me that this place has all of the marks of authentic community.
What is unfortunate is that, although they do community well, at the end of the day Starbucks can only offer a person a warm beverage and a clean, well lighted place to sit awhile. The church has in her possession the treasure of the living Gospel, with the power to transform lives. But this treasure is often obscured by inauthentic community. If the church could begin to live into the ideal of her Scriptures, we might see people pining for the Story in the way they now pine for a white chocolate mocha.
Friday, September 22, 2006
On Romance Languages and the Romantic Idiot
Today I experienced my first official "moment of crisis" in the PhD program. Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of moments filled with self doubt and self loathing, not to mention a number of cold sweats - not to be confused with cold sweets, which for my money does not get any better than Hostess - but today is the first time I experienced, as it were, the teeth of the PhD program, what I'm up against, the proverbial wall. Check that, I realized today I might not know enough to even hit the wall. I'm somewhere outside the city with a piecer car, the wrong map, and a broken compass. Or if you like sports metaphors: I'm in the Hell Bunker at St. Andrew's and all I have is a putter. Or entertainment: I got nothing.
In my Eastern Fathers class, I was assigned to introduce and lead discussion on the figure Jacob of Serug. This assignment involves providing a lengthy abstract of the figure's biography, theology, other works, and recent scholarship concerning him. I actually had a choice between he and two other figures and I picked the former simply because he had an English sounding name (as opposed to Severus and Philoxenus). Oh the bitter irony for as I began my research, I quickly realized that there was nothing English about Jacob of Serug or the scholarship surrounding him.
The first book I located was written in some sort of obscure Syriac. I believe it was a work by Jacob himself, but truth be told I didn't know enough to tell. The footnotes appeared to be french, but I am basing that feeble assumption on what I thought looked like a "we." The second book I located looked a little more familiar. At least, with all the hichs and sclichts, I was able to identify it as German, not that that did much for me. I did manage to find an English book, but of course it is checked out until December. Because apparently Jacob of Serug is slotted for Oprah's bookclub later this month. (Word on the street, however, is that he fabricated parts of his memoir. He didn't really fall off that camel.)
So unless there is a book on Jacob written in Iowan via Kentuckian via Wisconsian English or Koine Greek on the level of 1 John or Latin in the present tense only (minus the genetive case), I'm pretty much sunk. I did, however, manage to find quite a bit of helpful material on both Severus and Philoxenus.
That Oprah sure knows how to pick um . . .
In my Eastern Fathers class, I was assigned to introduce and lead discussion on the figure Jacob of Serug. This assignment involves providing a lengthy abstract of the figure's biography, theology, other works, and recent scholarship concerning him. I actually had a choice between he and two other figures and I picked the former simply because he had an English sounding name (as opposed to Severus and Philoxenus). Oh the bitter irony for as I began my research, I quickly realized that there was nothing English about Jacob of Serug or the scholarship surrounding him.
The first book I located was written in some sort of obscure Syriac. I believe it was a work by Jacob himself, but truth be told I didn't know enough to tell. The footnotes appeared to be french, but I am basing that feeble assumption on what I thought looked like a "we." The second book I located looked a little more familiar. At least, with all the hichs and sclichts, I was able to identify it as German, not that that did much for me. I did manage to find an English book, but of course it is checked out until December. Because apparently Jacob of Serug is slotted for Oprah's bookclub later this month. (Word on the street, however, is that he fabricated parts of his memoir. He didn't really fall off that camel.)
So unless there is a book on Jacob written in Iowan via Kentuckian via Wisconsian English or Koine Greek on the level of 1 John or Latin in the present tense only (minus the genetive case), I'm pretty much sunk. I did, however, manage to find quite a bit of helpful material on both Severus and Philoxenus.
That Oprah sure knows how to pick um . . .
Thursday, September 21, 2006
The Church's Way of Speaking
I was walking through a book store this afternoon, one of my favorite activities (to my wife's chagrin), when I noticed the book The Best American Spiritual Writing 2006. (This is part of a series of The Best American . . . which includes other collections of short stories, essays, mystery writing, etc.) I picked it up fully expecting to be hit by a number of essays regarding new age topics and "Oprah Winfreyesk" spirituality. To my surprise and delight, my eyes lit upon an essay entitled "The Church's Way of Speaking" by Robert Louis Wilken. It was published in the August-September issue of First Things.
First Things is an ecumenical publication that features articles relating to thinking "Christianly" about current events. I have been an avid reader of First Things for a year and a half now and am constantly impressed by the quality of writing that is produced. It regularly challenges my faith and how that faith gets applied to everyday living. I recommend the publication to anyone.
In my year and a half of reading, the article that clearly stands out in my mind is the article by Wilken that made its way into the Best Spiritual Writing collection. It addresses the distinctiveness of the Christian community and the importance of knowing and living that distinctiveness in the world. All you "Hauerwasians" would love it. Here is the link:
www.firstthings.com/ftissues/ft0508/articles/wilken.html
Let me know what you think . . .
First Things is an ecumenical publication that features articles relating to thinking "Christianly" about current events. I have been an avid reader of First Things for a year and a half now and am constantly impressed by the quality of writing that is produced. It regularly challenges my faith and how that faith gets applied to everyday living. I recommend the publication to anyone.
In my year and a half of reading, the article that clearly stands out in my mind is the article by Wilken that made its way into the Best Spiritual Writing collection. It addresses the distinctiveness of the Christian community and the importance of knowing and living that distinctiveness in the world. All you "Hauerwasians" would love it. Here is the link:
www.firstthings.com/ftissues/ft0508/articles/wilken.html
Let me know what you think . . .
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
A Placid Sea of Contradictions
For the first time today, I was struck by the odd situation in which I find myself. It is clear that I am in a scholarly setting, replete with world class thinkers who regularly wax eloquent about topics ranging from what Paul meant by the de in a single verse of Romans to what Arius ate for breakfast on the morning of his condemnation to what Rahner was thinking at Vatican II. I have a professor who regularly slips in and out of foreign languages and I'm not sure he knows he's doing it. Just today I walked out of a class dizzied by the amount of information that had just been poured into me, wondering if I would ever be able to assimilate it all, but thanking God that I am in such an environment that allows me the opportunity. And then I am passed by a kid in a Hollister shirt with an upside down Abercrombie visor, and an Ipod turned up so loud I can hear every word to "Funky Cold Medina."
Surrounding this hallowed center of academia is your typical college campus. You have your philosophers sitting on the steps, your pseudo hippy strumming a guitar, your smokers around the back, girls dressed to the nines next to girls who just rolled out of bed, dudes playing frisbee to impress them all, the activist who's giving everyone an earfull, the ROTC candidates in Desert Storm Camouflage, the guy handing out fliers to the volleyball game to which no one will go, and on and on and on. I mean, its like I'm watching an episode of Dawson's Creek Season Five. I swear I heard "Semi Charmed Kind of Life" playing in the background.
As contradictory as it may seem, the setting just feels right. It is good to be back on a college campus again. Because despite all the ridiculousness, learning does happen, minds are shaped and lives are transformed. Though I'm often reminded that I didn't attend one of those "one-word" schools (Duke, Harvard, Princeton) and I frequently get double takes when I say I graduated from Iowa State University, I'm thankful for the experience - it profoundly shaped me. It took me from a frightened boy to a young man ready to impact the world, or at least my small part of it. Following that were four incredible years at Asbury Theological Seminary, another gem that doesn't get much recognition. It wouldn't be too much to say that I saw God there, even if it was just glimpses. And I certainly saw an authentic display of the People of God. Somehow I suspect that Marquette will be the perfect blend of both. And who knows? I might see God even in the kid in the Hollister shirt.
Will Tone Loc ever die?
Surrounding this hallowed center of academia is your typical college campus. You have your philosophers sitting on the steps, your pseudo hippy strumming a guitar, your smokers around the back, girls dressed to the nines next to girls who just rolled out of bed, dudes playing frisbee to impress them all, the activist who's giving everyone an earfull, the ROTC candidates in Desert Storm Camouflage, the guy handing out fliers to the volleyball game to which no one will go, and on and on and on. I mean, its like I'm watching an episode of Dawson's Creek Season Five. I swear I heard "Semi Charmed Kind of Life" playing in the background.
As contradictory as it may seem, the setting just feels right. It is good to be back on a college campus again. Because despite all the ridiculousness, learning does happen, minds are shaped and lives are transformed. Though I'm often reminded that I didn't attend one of those "one-word" schools (Duke, Harvard, Princeton) and I frequently get double takes when I say I graduated from Iowa State University, I'm thankful for the experience - it profoundly shaped me. It took me from a frightened boy to a young man ready to impact the world, or at least my small part of it. Following that were four incredible years at Asbury Theological Seminary, another gem that doesn't get much recognition. It wouldn't be too much to say that I saw God there, even if it was just glimpses. And I certainly saw an authentic display of the People of God. Somehow I suspect that Marquette will be the perfect blend of both. And who knows? I might see God even in the kid in the Hollister shirt.
Will Tone Loc ever die?
What is Theology?
I've come to believe that this question is critical for any follower of Christ to answer. For many, the ubiquitous authors Grenz and Olson immediately come to mind, will tell us that "everyone is a theologian." I'm not sure if I agree with that statement, but nevertheless it begs the all important question, what then is theology? I found the following anecdote, to which I am indebted to Father Alexander Golitzin, extremely helpful.
The standard Lexicon for classical Greek (Liddell and Scott), despite voluminous entries spanning pages and pages of miniscule type, lists only two definitions for theologia as used by the classical writers: 1. stories about the gods; and 2. rational discourse about divinity. We might identify our own thoughts with one of these two definitions. However, the standard Patristic Lexicon (covering the language of the Greek Fathers of the early centuries of the church) has five to six pages of entries following theologia. Theology was obviously a rich word to the Fathers, and one which acquired a number of different senses. The definitions take on a hierarchy of importance. To summarize, they are (in ascending order of importance): 1. rational discourse about divinity; 2. Holy Scripture (sometimes called "The Theology"); 3. the liturgy of both the angels and the church on earth (in other words, worship); 4. the visio dei or vision of God; and 5. Trinity, the highest form of theology.
What strikes me about the Fathers' use of theologia is that our place, if we have a place at all, is at the very bottom of this list, the rational discourse. But this rational discourse does not exist for its own benefit, a fact we can often forget in our loquaciousness. The purpose of the theology we do, insofar as it has a purpose, is merely to lead people to the higher forms - the Scriptures and the liturgy - where the Triune God will be experienced and seen. A very good reminder to all of us who aspire to be theologians.
The standard Lexicon for classical Greek (Liddell and Scott), despite voluminous entries spanning pages and pages of miniscule type, lists only two definitions for theologia as used by the classical writers: 1. stories about the gods; and 2. rational discourse about divinity. We might identify our own thoughts with one of these two definitions. However, the standard Patristic Lexicon (covering the language of the Greek Fathers of the early centuries of the church) has five to six pages of entries following theologia. Theology was obviously a rich word to the Fathers, and one which acquired a number of different senses. The definitions take on a hierarchy of importance. To summarize, they are (in ascending order of importance): 1. rational discourse about divinity; 2. Holy Scripture (sometimes called "The Theology"); 3. the liturgy of both the angels and the church on earth (in other words, worship); 4. the visio dei or vision of God; and 5. Trinity, the highest form of theology.
What strikes me about the Fathers' use of theologia is that our place, if we have a place at all, is at the very bottom of this list, the rational discourse. But this rational discourse does not exist for its own benefit, a fact we can often forget in our loquaciousness. The purpose of the theology we do, insofar as it has a purpose, is merely to lead people to the higher forms - the Scriptures and the liturgy - where the Triune God will be experienced and seen. A very good reminder to all of us who aspire to be theologians.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
A Communion of Bloggers
Introduction
I suppose this first entry should be something by way of an introduction, though if you are reading this, my hunch is that you were prompted by an email of mine and already know me quite well. But for all you careless typers who were actually searching for Janet Jackson or Debra Lafave and got me instead (my sincere apologies), allow me an introduction . . .
My name is Jackson Lashier and I live in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with my beautiful wife Julie (who may be asked to contribute from time to time - people generally find her more interesting). I was born and raised in Iowa and did not consider leaving until a call to ministry brought me to Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky. It was there that, among other things, I met my future wife, some amazing friends and mentors, and felt a change in my calling, one to teaching. So it is that we now find ourselves in Milwaukee (from the tobacco and gambling capital to the beer capital) where I am currently attending Marquette University pursuing a PhD in religious studies, with an emphasis in historical theology. Julie is a hospital chaplain at St. Luke's (which has more employees than the entire town of Wilmore) serving patients on the neurological floors. Though these positions might seem hellish to some, we feel that we are exactly where God has called us to be and are quite excited as we stand on the precipice of this journey.
I begin this blog at the prompting of JD Walt, my friend and pastor, who thought that it might be interesting to log my experiences as a fledgling PhD student. While my first reaction was no, thinking my experiences would be interesting to no one - at times not even interesting to myself - it did strike me that the material I am learning and the thoughts they are provoking in me might be of interest to a few, particularly to those who, like me, are struggling to navigate faithfulness in surroundings that seem increasingly unfaithful (this comment is not directed at Marquette, but in general the world at large). So it is that I begin.
The Inspiration of the Name
The content of our Creed is fascinating to me. The Fathers were obviously selective at what they chose to include for they left out many articles of faith that we might deem crucial today - the role of Israel, the inspiration of the Scriptures, and the manner of atonement come immediately to mind. But what they did include, alongside belief in the Triune God, was this phrase: "I believe in the communion of saints." What this suggests to me is that, equally important to belief in a God who is three-in-one is belief in a living community of followers. We do not, in other words, come to saving and sanctifying knowledge of God outside of a community.
For those, like me, who seem to stumble more often than not, Christ in this community is really our only hope to becoming more like the God who created us. But too often, I think, we limit that community to the people we see, that is those we see every Sunday (or whenever your Christian community meets). This is unfortunate because, not only is our true community spread across all nations of this earth, but it is spread across the last 2000 years. And there are countless ones who have gone before us, struggling to live the faithful life in much the same conditions which now face us, whose wisdom is invaluable for our growth.
The Intent of this Blog
The hope that I have in establishing this blog is to begin a conversation with my fellow bloggers about the "Holy Mysteries," a term which covers, not only all theological and doctrinal truths, in other words, "orthodoxy", but also how we live faithfully in response to these beliefs, in other words, "orthopraxis." I hope to bring in conversation partners from the early centuries of the church and I invite others to do the same. I will do my best to be a regular poster, as schoolwork will often dictate, and I look forward to any comments I may receive. May we experience communion, not only with each other, but with the saints through the ages, who knew what it was to truly see God.
I suppose this first entry should be something by way of an introduction, though if you are reading this, my hunch is that you were prompted by an email of mine and already know me quite well. But for all you careless typers who were actually searching for Janet Jackson or Debra Lafave and got me instead (my sincere apologies), allow me an introduction . . .
My name is Jackson Lashier and I live in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with my beautiful wife Julie (who may be asked to contribute from time to time - people generally find her more interesting). I was born and raised in Iowa and did not consider leaving until a call to ministry brought me to Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky. It was there that, among other things, I met my future wife, some amazing friends and mentors, and felt a change in my calling, one to teaching. So it is that we now find ourselves in Milwaukee (from the tobacco and gambling capital to the beer capital) where I am currently attending Marquette University pursuing a PhD in religious studies, with an emphasis in historical theology. Julie is a hospital chaplain at St. Luke's (which has more employees than the entire town of Wilmore) serving patients on the neurological floors. Though these positions might seem hellish to some, we feel that we are exactly where God has called us to be and are quite excited as we stand on the precipice of this journey.
I begin this blog at the prompting of JD Walt, my friend and pastor, who thought that it might be interesting to log my experiences as a fledgling PhD student. While my first reaction was no, thinking my experiences would be interesting to no one - at times not even interesting to myself - it did strike me that the material I am learning and the thoughts they are provoking in me might be of interest to a few, particularly to those who, like me, are struggling to navigate faithfulness in surroundings that seem increasingly unfaithful (this comment is not directed at Marquette, but in general the world at large). So it is that I begin.
The Inspiration of the Name
The content of our Creed is fascinating to me. The Fathers were obviously selective at what they chose to include for they left out many articles of faith that we might deem crucial today - the role of Israel, the inspiration of the Scriptures, and the manner of atonement come immediately to mind. But what they did include, alongside belief in the Triune God, was this phrase: "I believe in the communion of saints." What this suggests to me is that, equally important to belief in a God who is three-in-one is belief in a living community of followers. We do not, in other words, come to saving and sanctifying knowledge of God outside of a community.
For those, like me, who seem to stumble more often than not, Christ in this community is really our only hope to becoming more like the God who created us. But too often, I think, we limit that community to the people we see, that is those we see every Sunday (or whenever your Christian community meets). This is unfortunate because, not only is our true community spread across all nations of this earth, but it is spread across the last 2000 years. And there are countless ones who have gone before us, struggling to live the faithful life in much the same conditions which now face us, whose wisdom is invaluable for our growth.
The Intent of this Blog
The hope that I have in establishing this blog is to begin a conversation with my fellow bloggers about the "Holy Mysteries," a term which covers, not only all theological and doctrinal truths, in other words, "orthodoxy", but also how we live faithfully in response to these beliefs, in other words, "orthopraxis." I hope to bring in conversation partners from the early centuries of the church and I invite others to do the same. I will do my best to be a regular poster, as schoolwork will often dictate, and I look forward to any comments I may receive. May we experience communion, not only with each other, but with the saints through the ages, who knew what it was to truly see God.
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