"Christus est me."

One of the joys, some might say curses, of historical research is that I am constantly discovering figures whose thought is deep and often revolutionary - particularly for their time - but for whatever reason, have been largely overlooked in the grand narratives of our history books. Irenaeus of Lyons, the second century figure who will command the majority of my attention in my dissertation, was one such figure. Most of the major history books rarely mention anyone earlier than Augustine (4th century). (Of course, this was prior to the Da Vinci Code dabocal, where Irenaeus actually comes to play. Even here, however, his thought is much misunderstood and characterized. But I digress.)

A recent figure that has captured me is the 16th century figure Johann von Staupitz. Generally, he is known to scholarship, if he is known at all, as Martin Luther's teacher and confessor. Thus, he is generally referred to as the "frontrunner of the Reformation", a title which completely overlooks the fact that he remained a member of the Roman Catholic Church to his dying day (though he also refused to condemn Luther). Rather, he worked for reform from within the walls of the Church and his theology is, therefore, much more nuanced and subtle than some of the more polemical works from the hands of the Reformers.

One of the primary ways in which his thought was subversive to the Catholic establishment was in his understanding of the union that is effected between Christ and the Christian. Generally speaking, the Catholic Scholasticism dominant in his day viewed the relationship primarily as a marriage between Christ and the Church. This marriage was, consequently, mediated (or appropriated) by the believers through the grace of the sacraments.

Staupitz picks up this marriage analogy (likely originating with Paul) and subtly changes it, emphasizing the union between Christ and each individual Christian. For Staupitz, the union revealed in Paul's marriage analogy was much more intimate and personal than had come to be interpreted by Scholasticism. It was not mediated by the Church or by the sacraments, the grace of God simply came to the human creature because God elected him or her to marry and therefore, pledged himself to him or her.

The vows which Staupitz believes effect this union express this intimate union in a most profound manner. Christ says to the believer:

"Ego accipio te meam,
accipio te mihi,
accipio in me."

("I accept the Christian to me,
I accept the Christian with me,
I accept the Christian into me.")

Staupitz interprets these progressing vows as Christ and the Christian becoming one in flesh, heart and spirit, such that the Christian can now say "I am Christ." As a result of this intimate union, all of the merits of Christ become ours. We now have a right and a title to heaven because we are Christ, not because we have merited it on our own account. Moreover, the sin that was ours is transferred to Christ, who also says in his vow: "I am the Christian." It is these sins that are put to death on the cross.

Finally, Staupitz envisions this marriage as happening at the point of justification. This is again quite different from Scholastic theology, and even from some of the more mystical theologians of the high medieval age, who believed the union with Christ was the result of much spiritual growth and something that one arrived at at the end of his or her journey. Staupitz sees it as a beginning. Christians are joined to Christ when they are justified and this union adheres throughout their life. What confidence should this inspire in us, if we truly believe that "I am Christ."

Most readers will see in this theology a radically Protestant understanding of the relationship between Christ and the Christian. Historically speaking, it was a Catholic understanding. Johann von Staupitz, for this reason, I think could be a starting point for ecumenical discussions. He is a witness to the fact that there is in the Catholic tradition a place for the concerns that the Reformers were raising. Unfortunately, at this point, he is too little known to history to work effectively in this role. We need more historians!

Abundant Life

This morning our pastor made an interesting connection between the lectionary readings. The epistle reading came from 1 Peter 2:19-25, a portion of which reads:

"For it is a credit to you if, being aware of God, you endure pain while suffering unjustly.
If you endure when you are beaten for doing wrong, what credit is that? But if you endure when you do right and suffer for it, you have God's approval. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps."

The Gospel reading came from John 10:1-10, a portion of which reads:

"I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

So often, Christians want to read the promise that Jesus gives in John 10 as referring to this earthly life. We want this to be a promise that if we follow Jesus than he will abundantly bless this life. Some versions of Christianity have even built their theology around this promise. The Prosperity Gospel, as it was called, preached that God blesses his followers monetarily in this life. The converse implication is that if a person is suffering than he or she must be in sin. There are versions of this perverse gospel being preached today. Sometimes it is subtle, but if you listen for the rhetoric, it is there.

The wise formers of the lectionary must have known the potential danger of misinterpretations of which life Jesus was referring to for they paired it with an epistle reading that makes it impossible to understand Jesus promise of abundant life as referring to monetary blessings. For Peter is crystal clear that followers of Christ are not promised blessings in this life - at least in the way that "blessings" are understood these days. Rather, Peter writes that Christians have been called to suffer unjustly. Bear in mind, he does not say that we may suffer unjustly, he says that this is what we have been called to.

Why would God call us to suffer unjustly, our modern minds may ask. The answer is simple. This is the example that our savior set for us. Jesus suffered unjustly because he was faithful to God in an unfaithful world. The original audience of 1 Peter likewise lived in an unfaithful world and Peter knew that to follow in Jesus' footsteps would likewise result in unjust suffering. Christians today continue to live in an unfaithful world, and if we are faithful to the example of our savior, the result will be the same. There have been more Christian martyrs this year already than in the entire first century.

Abundant life comes in the pure joy of living a Christlike life and the reward that results from such a life. May God give us all the courage and strength to live the life to which we have been called.

Our Hope has a Name

This past Easter Sunday, a United Church in Toronto sang the glorious Easter hymn "Jesus Christ is Risen Today," but it replaced the name "Jesus Christ" with the phrase "Glorious hope." Here is an excerpt from the article printed by Globe and Mail:

"Thus, it will be hope that is declared to be resurrected – an expression of renewal of optimism and the human spirit – but not Jesus, contrary to Christianity's central tenet about the return to life on Easter morning of the crucified divine son of God.

"Generally speaking, no divine anybody makes an appearance in West Hill's Sunday service liturgy.

"There is no authoritative Big-Godism, as Rev. Gretta Vosper, West Hill's minister for the past 10 years, puts it. No petitionary prayers (“Dear God, step into the world and do good things about global warming and the poor”). No miracles-performing magic Jesus given birth by a virgin and coming back to life. No references to salvation, Christianity's teaching of the final victory over death through belief in Jesus's death as an atonement for sin and the omnipotent love of God. For that matter, no omnipotent God, or god.

"Ms. Vosper has written a book, published this week – With or Without God: Why the Way We Live is More Important than What We Believe – in which she argues that the Christian church, in the form in which it exists today, has outlived its viability and either it sheds its no-longer credible myths, doctrines and dogmas, or it's toast."

There is a genuine consensus, the pastor of this church goes on to say, that the Bible is a human project that has no ontological truth, that it is absurd to think that salvation comes through the death and resurrection of a particular man. The church, she believes, needs to recognize this and throw off their old language that they might survive. If I understand her correctly, her justification for removing the name "Jesus Christ" from the hymn, ironically, is that the Christian church might not perish but might live.

My first observation is simply to acknowledge that Scripture says the exact opposite. Rather, it says rather clearly that our only life is in the life of this particular man Jesus of Nazareth who lived in a particular place at a particular time. And that this man is also God. If he did not rise on Easter morning, then there is no glorious hope. Paul writes: "Now if there is no resurrection of the dead, not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain, your faith also in vain . . . and if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied." -1 Cor. 15:13-14, 17-19.

Of course these statements are meaningless to someone who thinks like Rev. Vosper because she believes the Bible is just human invention. My second observation, then, is a bit more practical. Why bother? Why are you the pastor of a church? Why not sleep in on Sunday morning? I just do not understand why this person - or anyone who believes the way she does - would waste their time with coming together. And I further do not understand the basis of her glorious hope. Where is our hope if Jesus has not been raised. I think that we have none and we might as well just eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.

But I do believe that He is risen. And I do believe that our Scriptures are the true story of God's covenantal interactions with his people. And I believe that they are the basis for our faith and hope that He will continue to be faithful to his promises. In short I too believe that glorious hope has risen today. But glorious hope has a name. Jesus Christ.

One last observation. I know not of this "general consensus" that Rev. Vosper speaks of. There are believers and there are non believers, as there always has been, but to say that there is a general consensus now that the Bible is of human invention is plain disingenuous. I find it funny to note that when leading theologians were asked to comment on her book, they all refused because they hadn't read it.

Maundy Madness

As I write this, Marquette is in the second half of a close game with Kentucky in the first round of the NCAA tournament. Though I have not had much time to follow basketball in the last seven years since leaving Iowa State, I do have an affinity for this game as it pits my current school against my former school. (Asbury Seminary did not have a basketball team so as far as sports go, I adopted the University of Kentucky as my collegiate team during those years.) But alas I am not watching the game as I am reading furiously to try to get ahead for the final push of the semester, "the Paper Madness" as I like to call it.

What is more unfortunate is that I will likely not pause too long to remember the significance of this day. For it is not just the beginning of March Madness, as most Americans (and sadly most Christians) will only take note of today, but it is Maundy Thursday, the day in which our Lord celebrated the last supper with his disciples, the day in which he donned the towel of a servant to wash the feet of his disciples. The Pope, in his Maundy Thursday address from Rome, likened the event to the early Christological hymn preserved in Philippians 2:

"He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn't claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death - and the worst kind of death at that: a crucifixion." -Philippians 2:6-8

If the Pope is right, and I think that he is (despite the fact that he was not speaking ex cathedra) then the footwashing episode is a microcosm of the entirety of Jesus' life. Even to the point that some of those whom he serves want to reject the cleansing. To paraphrase the early Patristic dictum with this understanding: "He became a servant, that we might be the one who is served."

This insight of the Pope's mirrors that of some of the early reflections on the Eucharistic mystery. Writers such as Cyprian of Carthage connected the actions Jesus took at the last supper in giving the bread and wine with the actions he took on Golgotha in giving his body and blood. It is all one mysterious act, through which we are reconciled to God. Our feet are now clean to walk where God walks. We could not clean them ourselves, as Peter's refusal was ultimately suggesting (despite the pious front), but we needed the Holy God to do it. This, when you think about it, truly deserves the appellation madness. And yet it is this madness - or foolishness as the Apostle Paul writes - that is our salvation.

"He died for your sins!"

Though scholars continually try to do it, it is notoriously difficult to trace the Reformation to one event or even to a set of events. The most common is that day in 1517 when Martin Luther pinned his 95 theses to the door of a church blasting many common churchly practices, the sale of indulgences first among them. But I don't think anyone of important stature took notice for quite some time. In any event, what was it in Luther's life that urged him to do this? He relates one story that I think is quite edifying for us today.

As Luther tells it, he was guilt ridden with his sins and would consistently go before his confessor Father Johann von Staupitz crying: "My sins are killing me." He would describe the picture of Christ he had to continually pass on his walks, one which pictured Christ the judge with two swords coming out of his mouth and how it left him hopeless. Staupitz, at this point much more keenly aware of the grace of God than Luther himself, used to say: "Luther, why do you bother me with these puppet sins. If you raped or murdered, then I would have something to absolve you of."

When he saw that this was not working, he took Luther into the sanctuary before the big cross, effectively turning his eyes from the picture of the judging Christ to the picture of the crucified Christ. "What do you see?" he asked Luther. "Oh its horrible. Its my judgment." Staupitz, growing somewhat impatient asked, "Why did he die?" And Luther in his obedient manner gave the answer he had likely given all his life: "For the sins of the world." Here Staupitz turned him and looked into his eyes crying: "Luther, he died for your sins! If you lack assurance, then you mistrust this man. What more can he do to show you his love? It's not that God is angry with you. It's that you are angry with God."

Luther later said that this turned his whole thinking upside down. And though, as many of you know, I am less a fan of the Reformation than many of my Protestant brothers and sisters because of the great schism he created in the church to this day, I can certainly recognize that reform was needed, particularly a greater understanding of the magnificent, overwhelming grace of Christ.

Sacramental Cinematography

In 2004 on the Tuesday night preceding Ash Wednesday and the start of the Lenten season, Mel Gibson released his much anticipated "The Passion of the Christ" that was both hailed and criticized. There are some theological difficulties with the movie. I have heard it said, for instance, that the Christ shed so much blood in this movie that he died three times over. While the amount of blood shed was meaningful to an understanding that it was by His blood that we are saved, the notion that no human being could have lived through that blood loss and made it to the cross gave the impression that Christ was some sort of super human. We might like to think this at times, but let us remember that the truth of the incarnation is just this fact - that Christ became a man like you and like me. There was nothing supernatural about the beating he received, save the faith he had to keep him on that cross. Physically speaking, he died as any other man in his condition would have died under the same set of circumstances. We have to remember this because his true humanity is crucial to our salvation.

Having said that, I think that Gibson's sacramental theology is "spot on," as the English are fond of saying. If you remember, during the crucifixion scene, the picture cut back and forth between the events on Golgotha and the scene the night before in the upper room when Jesus was breaking bread with his disciples. As Jesus' hands were nailed to the cross, the scene cut to Jesus taking the bread. As the cross was raised up, the scene cut to Jesus raising the bread. As the blood dripped from his hands, the scene cut to show the wine. "This is my body," Jesus said, "given for you."

This scene brilliantly showed the beautiful truth that the Fathers wrote about, namely that the actions of Jesus in the upper room cannot be understood apart from his actions on Golgotha. In other words, Jesus is doing the same thing on Friday that he did on Thursday night. And this understanding further undergirds the understanding that Christ is somehow truly and mystically present in our celebration of the Eucharist. Not that he is crucified again, somehow transported to each of our churches, but rather that we are transported back 2000 years to that rock in the shape of a skull. That seeing the bread raised and the cup of wine, we are seeing our savior, "the Lamb standing as though slain," as John puts it. And that by partaking of the bread and wine, we are made one with him, one with his death, and one with his life.

Theological Poetry

"God gives all He has to give -
His son to speak that one word, Live."

-Joseph Bottom

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday, the day when they crucified our Lord. The designation "good" is peculiar to the English language. In the Roman Missal it is designated Feria VI in Parasceve which means literally "Feast of the Preparation." In the Greek liturgy, it is called "the Holy and Great Friday." In the Romance languages, it is called "Holy Friday." And in German, it is called "Sorrowful Friday."

The collective whole of these names displays the ambivalence with which we approach this day. On the one hand, it is a horrible day, a day of mourning, for humanity committed its greatest atrocity by brutally killing God's only Son, a man who came in peace, a man whose heart was so full of love that he wept when he saw the state of the world, as personified in Jerusalem, a man who left the heights of heaven to commune with the dregs of earth. We were the object of his love, we were the reason for his tears, we were the dregs. And we killed him.

But on the other hand, this is a wonderful day, a holy and great day of rejoicing, for the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world is sacrificed, thus atoning once and for all for our sinful humanity. Jesus, who on Christmas is conformed to our humanity, today conforms to all of us, even to our sin and even to our death. And in being conformed to our death, he sanctifies even it, so that our deaths are no longer meaningless and no longer judgment, but rather passage into his presence - that is if we participate in his death through baptism.

Perhaps the English title of this day most appropriately captures its sentiment: "Good." It shows a quiet respect for this day, it shows us that even in the great celebration of sin abolished, there is mourning that it was our sin which placed him there.

I leave you with a few quotes that capture the significance of this day better than I could ever hope to:

"Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed." -Isaiah

"For no one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for a good man someone would dare even to die. But God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." -Paul

"When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died, my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride. See, from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down. Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?" -Isaac Watts

"The task of the heart is self-preservation, holding together what is its own. The pierced heart of Jesus has . . . truly overturned this definition. This heart is not concerned with self-preservation but with self-surrender. It saves the world by opening itself. The collapse of the opened Heart is the content of the Easter mystery. The Hearts saves, indeed, but it saves by giving itself away." -Pope Benedict XVI

"It is finished." -Jesus the Christ

Christ and the American G.I.?

I recently read an email forward with the following claim: "The only people who were willing to die for you were Jesus Christ and the American G.I." Despite the forward's obligatory promises of good fortune if I passed it on and the threats of great calamity if I failed to, I did not pass it on for I find the statement extremely problematic.

In the first place, I just don't think it is true. I would like to think that I have a few friends and family members who would be willing to die for me. I believe that I am willing to die for them should the occasion arise. I do not say this out of pride and sincerely hope it is not taken that way; I say it out of the change wrought in me by Christ. For his definition of love and friendship is nothing short of this: "This is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." -John 15:12-13; "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers." -1 John 3:16. If it is true that the only people willing to die for me other than Christ are American G.I.s, than only American G.I.s have fully understood the radical love Christ witnesses to. This is hard for me to believe for many reasons, not the least of which is the simple fact that not all American G.I.s are Christians.

The second, and more compelling, reason that I did not send the forward on is that I think the comparison between the work of Jesus and the work of an American soldier is a horrible one which severely misunderstands (at best) or undermines (at worst) the Gospel message. After all, the soldier rushes to war with a gun, killing all those who did not happen to be born in America. The soldier does all he can to stay alive and if it is between he and another guy (particularly the enemy), it is going to be the enemy who dies. These are the brutal facts of war and no one blames the soldier for this type of mentality - this is the job his country has asked him to do.

The work of Jesus was completely different. Jesus came peaceably, preaching a gospel of peace and restoration and freedom (from sin) for all people, not just those who happened to be born in a specific geographical location (and certainly not only for Americans). Jesus preached the turning of the other cheek, the walking of the extra mile, the loving of one's enemies. When he was called upon to fight, he refused and chastised his disciples for defending him with the sword. And he healed the ear of the very man who came to arrest him. He submitted to immense suffering and death, never once striking back. In short, he lived and modeled his gospel of peace and displayed for us the only true means toward restoration. The only comparison which is merited is the Christian martyr who willingly dies for being a follower of Christ (which continues to happen throughout the world), or perhaps the person who dies on behalf of a friend. Which if you remember, Christ expects of us all.

Lion or Lamb? (Part 2)

A somewhat more helpful metaphor involving a lion and a lamb (see Part I) is found in Holy Scripture. Our Savior Jesus Christ is likened to both animals in various places. The ascription "lion" is often modified with "of Judah" and it comes originally from Genesis 49, where the Patriarch Jacob is pronouncing blessings upon his sons prior to his death. He has this to say of his son Judah: "Judah is a lion's whelp; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He couches, he lies down as a lion, and as a lion, who dares rouse him up? The scepter shall not depart from Judah . . ." Judah is the tribe of Joseph, the father of Jesus. Thus, through the kingship of Jesus, the prophecy that the "scepter shall not depart from Judah" is fulfilled. The imagery is first applied to Jesus by the writer of Revelation: "and one of the elders said to me: 'Stop weeping; the Lion that is from the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has overcome so as to open the book and the seven seals" (5:5). To call Jesus the Lion of Judah is to refer to his kingship, his worthiness to be king, and the protection which he offers his people.

We have an example of this in the lectionary reading for today, Luke 13:31-35: "Just at that time some Pharisees approached, saying to Him, "Go away, leave here, for Herod wants to kill You." And He said to them, "Go and tell that fox, 'Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I reach My goal. Nevertheless I must journey on today and tomorrow and the next day; for it cannot be that a prophet would perish outside of Jerusalem. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not have it! . . ."

In these verses, Jesus calls Herod a fox, evincing his craftiness and his desire to pick off sheep from the flock. Nevertheless, Jesus with the courage of a lion does not stray from his destination. Rather, he sets his face toward the city for he knows that unless he complete his work, rulers like Herod will forever rule and there will be no salvation for anyone. The Lion of Judah continues on to Jerusalem.

But there are also many places in Scripture where Jesus is referred to as a lamb. John the Baptist is the first to call him this, recorded in John's Gospel: "The next day (John) saw Jesus coming to him and said, 'Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!'" (1:29). The Baptist is, of course, drawing on imagery with which his hearers would have been instantly familiar. He is referring to the Jewish sacrificial cultus, the system which prescribed animal sacrifices for the forgiveness of sins. The shed blood of a pure lamb, the Israelites believed, would atone for their sins and thus assuage the wrath of God. The Baptist, before Jesus even begins his ministry, recognizes that Jesus is that pure lamb.

Interestingly enough, the writer of Revelation again picks up this imagery. The seer describes the first time he sees Jesus in his vision: "And I saw between the throne (with the four living creatures) and the elders a Lamb standing, as if slain . . ." (5:6). The English translations miss what I think the Greek portrays; a better translation might be: "a Lamb standing while slain." The point of this vision is that Jesus in heaven is a slain lamb. But that quality, namely that he has been slain, is the very quality that allows him to open the seals, that earns him the title "Lion of Judah."

We see this imagery, again, bear fruit in today's lectionary reading. Jesus heads to Jerusalem, we noted, with the courage of a lion. However, he indicates in the reading the manner in which he will save His people, and it is not an image of a conquering lion. Rather, he says: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem . . . how often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings." Jesus likens himself to a Mother Hen! But I ask, what good is a Mother Hen in the face of a prowling fox? The only means the Mother has of saving her chicks is to offer herself as the fox's meal in lieu of the chicks. And this is exactly what Jesus does.

John's vision of the slain lamb in heaven forever reminds us that while it was the courage of a lion that led Jesus to Jerusalem, it was the sacrifice of a lamb which redeemed us.

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.

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 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."