Tuesday, April 29, 2008

"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!

Sunday, April 20, 2008

The Wounds

"Our rock, then, is in heaven; in it is strength, and on it security. Is it not said that the rock is a refuge for the conies? And where, in truth, is there a firm and safe refuge for us who are weak, except in the Wounds of our Savior? There I dwell with safety so much the greater, as He is so powerful to save. The world rages around me, the devil lays snares for me; but I do not fall, for I am founded upon a firm Rock. Perhaps I have committed some great sin, my conscience is troubled, but I do not despair, because I remember the Wounds of my Lord; for He was wounded for our iniquities. What sin is there so deadly that it may not be remitted through the Death of Christ?

-St. Bernard of Clairvaux

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Who Can Be Saved?

One of the most difficult theological questions Christians face today is the fate of the unevangelized. The reason this question is so difficult is that it strikes at the heart of two pillars of Christian truth. The first is that God is a God of love who wills all of his creatures to be saved. This truth, despite some Calvinists protests which I can already hear ringing in the background, is sufficiently attested to in scripture. There is the famous statement of God's love: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life." To interpret this verse as applying to only a certain number of people, say a predestined elect, one has to do quite a bit of mental gymnastics in his or her interpretation of "world." A somewhat less memorized, but equally important verse comes from one of the epistles: "This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Tim 2:3b-4). In addition to these verses, I think it safe to say that the entire tenure of scripture reveals a God of love who does not want any of his creation to be out of communion with him. This is the God of the cross.

The second truth, however, is the belief that only through Christ can sinners be reconciled to God. The biblical evidence on this point is equally strong. In one of his earliest sermons, St. Peter declares: "This Jesus is 'the stone that was rejected by you, the builders; it has become the cornerstone.' There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:11-12). To take the verses we have already cited, God indeed loves the world but the stipulation for everlasting life is belief in Jesus. And the verse which follows 1 Tim 2:4 states: "For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus . . ."

When applying these truths to the fate of the unevangelized - that is those billions of people through history (and existing today) who never had the opportunity to hear the good news of Christ - we are left in a conundrum. For it seems that we cannot adequately maintain both of these truths. If we maintain that since God loves the world and wills the salvation of all, then he will surely provide a way for the salvation of those who have not heard the gospel. Yet the moment we affirm something like this, we put the truth that salvation comes only through Jesus in jeopardy. What is worse, we marginalize the work of the cross. For if God was able to save some humans apart from Jesus, then why did Jesus have to die? This is a theological question without an easy answer.

One of the best recent articles I have read on the subject comes from the hand of the Catholic Cardinal Avery Dulles, "Who Can be Saved?". He lucidly defines the difficulty and what is at stake in our answer. Additionally, he traces the history of thought on the subject which is enlightening in itself. He concludes with an answer that I think very satisfying. If you want to read this article, click here.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

A Narcissistic Update

I do not know if there is anyone still reading who would appreciate an update on my studies (who has not been in contact with me otherwise), but in the rare chance, I thought I would pause to be a bit narcissistic. But then again who am I kidding? Sometimes it seems that blogging is nothing but one big project in narcissism, especially when your readers are not given to commenting much.

In any case, I am in my fourth semester of classes, which means that I am officially done with course work this May (May 8th to be exact). On that blessed day, I will have completed my course work. This means nothing except that now I have the opportunity to sit for exams. Some places call them boards. The people at Marquette, who I've discovered have a penchant for acronyms, refer to them as the DQEs, or the Doctoral Qualifying Exams. I am planning on sitting for those sometime in the late fall. If I pass them, then and only then, will I have earned the right to be called a PhD candidate. So if some of you have been thinking of me as a PhD student, the joke is on you. Actually, the supreme joke, I think, is on me. For all this means is that the last two years of my life have been in a sort of limbo state. I'm not a PhD student, what the heck am I? Fortunately, this nihilistic problem will be resolved if I pass my exams.

The procedure is as follows: three days, six hours a day, four written essays (averaging 7-10 pages a piece) and an oral exam. I'm not sure what happens at an oral exam but I must admit that it does not sound very pleasant. I have consulted my DQE board, which consists of five distinguished professors, and they have each given me (or required me to give them) a bibliography covering a certain area. For example, one of my history questions will focus on the Trinitarian controversies of the fourth century. Thus my bibliography will consistent of primary sources from the major players of that century, as well as past and current secondary sources each having varying theses on what happened. When the test comes, I will be asked a comprehensive question about that time period. The bibliography is the map that guides the question, in other words, my professor cannot ask me something that is not covered by the bibliography. Conversely, I am responsible for everything on the bibliography - and these are long mothers.

So for the next five or six months (following May 8th), I will be reading through my various bibliographies and forming outlines to answer projected questions in my various areas. In the fall I will begin meeting with the professors of my board to discuss what I have read to hopefully focus in on questions. With some professors, I may have a fairly good idea of what I will be answering going into the test. With others, I may know nothing but generalities. Here is what I know so far.

Major area: History

1. Trinitarian thought of the apologists, particularly Justin Martyr (second century)

2. Trinitarian controversies of the fourth century

3. Theory of knowledge in Thomas Aquinas

Minor area: Bible

1. Romans

Minor area: Theology

1. Karl Barth on revelation

This is likely more than any of my readers wanted to know, but I put out there for anyone who does. If you have knowledge of any books or articles that might be useful, please send me a note. Otherwise, I ask for your prayers now as I begin what is sure to be a very long preparation process.

In other narcissistic news, as a celebration of the end of course work, Julie and I will be heading to Italy for two weeks! We will be going with her parents and her great uncle Virgilio Sala who will serve as a tour guide. We absolutely cannot wait.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

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.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Doxology

Though nothing beats, in my opinion, the theology in the old hymns of the church, I find that many of the newer, "contemporary" (oh how I despise that word) songs are also often filled with profound thoughts. Here are a few of my favorites, quotes from some of the younger saints in this communion of ours. Feel free to edify us with some of your favorites.

-----------------

"All the heavens cannot hold you Lord,
how much less to dwell in me?
I can only make my one desire:
Holy unto Thee."

-Third Day

-------------------

"Give me one pure and holy passion,
Give me one magnificent obsession.
Give me one glorious ambition for my life:
To know and to follow after you.

"To know and to follow hard after you,
To grow as your disciple in your truth.
This world is empty, pale, and poor
Compared to knowing you my Lord.
Lead me on, and I will run after you.
Lead me on, and I will run after you."

-Passion Worship Band

-----------------------

"Be my vision and I'll be your delight."

-Point of Grace

Monday, March 31, 2008

Politics and Religion to Middle Schoolers

In Sunday School yesterday, at the suggestion of the confirmation teacher, we combined the confirmation and senior high classes to discuss a rather pertinent topic - "Politics and Religion." I announced it in the first service and received numerous chuckles from the congregation. On the way out after service, I had numerous people pat me on the back giving me forlorn looks and an occasional, "good luck!" I felt like I was marching to the gallows. It seems that this is just a topic that we inherently fear, whether we think that they shouldn't be mixed, should be mixed, can't be mixed, can't help but being mixed, or some combination of the above. But everyone has an opinion, and as I soon found out, even kids.

We kept it as basic as we could, keeping the discussion to things like the purpose of the separation between church and state, etc. What amazed me, however, is the assumption that seemed to permeate the room that politics is one thing and religion a completely different and never the twain shall meet. Thus, when we asked whether a person's religious beliefs should influence their policies, the general response we got was no. Perhaps I am ignorant but I do not see how someone who is a follower of Christ can somehow put those beliefs on a shelf when he or she goes to do his or her job. If we are a follower of Christ, should not his values affect everything we do?

The kids also did not think that Christ was a political figure or that the church was a political body. I think this seems to be a common thought as well. Without seeing Christ as a political figure, it is hard to make sense of why the Romans crucified him. Perhaps Christ was saying a bit more than keep your religion at home. And when the church lays a claim on our lives that is absolute, how we are to live, where we are to spend our money, etc. it is difficult to see how this cannot be a political body.

I don't think we ask the nature of the relationship between them enough. Thoughts?

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Protestant Ecumenists

"It was because they recognized what they had received through the Catholic Church that the first generation of Reformers wished for the renewal, not the disruption of the historic ecclesiastical structures. It was against their will that the visible continuity and unity were broken, and they thought of the separate polities which they established, not as new churches, but as temporary emergency measures. Convergence into a reformed and united church was their goal, and this once again is the objective of those Protestant ecumenists who are their heirs."

-George Lindbeck

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

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.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

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.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Lenten Reminder

"For men see Him just so far as they die to this world, and so far as they live to it they see Him not."

-St. Augustine

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

The Wisdom of Amy Winehouse

The following sermon was written and preached by J.D. Walt, the dean of the chapel at Asbury Theological Seminary and a good friend of mine. J.D. married Julie and me and spoke some of the most meaningful words to us that we frequently recall. He has the perfect style of taking the classic old message and putting it into words and images that connect with today's generation. In my opinion, the church needs more of this kind of preaching. The sermon is a bit lengthy but well worth the read. May it help us all to keep a holy Lent.


Read it here.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

"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.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Review: The City of Falling Angels

For Christmas this year, my overly-generous brother-in-law gave me an IPod Nano. Among other amenities, this handy device has allowed me to indulge my craving for good literature without cutting into the dwindling freetime I have. Using the IPod, I have taken to listening to books on CD while I am driving to school, walking around campus or doing any number of mundane things throughout the day. So while I might fit in with the undergrads, given that I now have plastic appendages coming out of my ears as I walk, I retain my intense "nerdiness" by the fact that I am listening to books. C'est la vie. The following is a review of the a recent book I listened to, namely, The City of Falling Angels by John Berendt. As with previous reviews on this sight, I will refrain from too much analysis as I find that this can tend to persuade a reader to not pick the book up for him or herself, and my goal in these reviews is always to encourage reading.

Berendt is the best selling author of the critically acclaimed Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Though his latest book falls short of his first classic in every sense, he does manage to do for Venice, Italy what he did for Savannah, Georgia in the former work. The city comes alive in Berendt's artful hands and is a character in its own right. Through his artful descriptions, incredible detail and witty anecdotes, the reader finds himself placed in the middle of the city, tasting its foods, smelling its air, and walking its streets (or in this case, traversing its canals). And other than Savannah, Georgia, there is perhaps no other city, Berendt shows, quite as unique as Venice.

Berendt arrived in Venice in January 1996, just a few days after the fire of the city's historic (and last standing) opera house the Fenice. This event, then, serves as the unifying event through which he weaves his tale about the city of Venice as seen through the eyes of its marvelous, real life characters. As in his first novel, every character is real. We meet Venice's plant man, who has dressed as a large plant on the streets of Venice for twenty years selling his exotic shrubbery. We meet the Rat Man of Venice, the man who has given his life to developing the perfect potion for killing rats. We meet master glass blowers, famous poets, artists, and architects. We learn about the Italian family, the haunts of the likes of Henry James and Ezra Pound, and the fate of the American sponsored "Save Venice" program. We experience, through Berendt's eyes, Carnival, the centuries old Venetian tradition of taking to the streets in wild, masked celebration, the likes of which are not rivaled on New Orleans hallowed streets.

Through it all, we learn more and more about the mysterious night the Fenice burns as Berendt skillfully unravels a tale of arson and madness. The reader comes to see the Fenice as a metaphor for Venice herself, a once marvelous and towering city that in its latter years has become tired and old. The canals are dirtying, the history withering, and the architecture literally falling to the streets. Yet Berendt shows its beauty and the reader is left feeling as if he or she has been there.

Berendt, unfortunately, does not bring all of the characters he has introduced to the reader back together around the event of the Fenice burning. This is the fascinating triumph of Midnight, that all of the characters we came to know through the book were ultimately somehow involved in the murder mystery that unified that book. Such is not the case with The City of Falling Angels. Yet Berendt nowhere claims that he meant it to be so. He wanted to tell the story of Venice through the eyes of the people who lived there. And this he did with the same skill his fans have come to expect.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

And now for something totally different, Part II

In an effort to break up the monotony of these theological posts, I thought that I would give yet another installment from that brilliant, biting, beautiful poet Dorothy Parker.

"In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

"But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!"

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Eyefuls of Planks

Let me be really clear at the outset of this post. I am no fan of Sean Hannity. I do not agree with his politics and I do not agree with his tactics. However, in the following clip he and Alan Combs are interviewing Shirley Phelps Roper of infamous Westboro Baptist Church fame. And what is it they say about odd bedfellows?

What I find compelling about this clip is Hannity's final question and Roper's stunned response. There is no better example that I have seen of Jesus' saying that it's much easier to see the speck in another's eye than the plank in one's own.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Beautiful and Frightening

Some of the best blog pieces I have read are at the same time beautiful in regards to style and frightening in regards to content. Such is the case with the following post from my good friend Omar Alrikabi over at First Born Son. He is currently doing college ministry at the Wesley Foundation in Fayetteville, Arkansas. I envy the kids who are privileged to sit under his teaching. Check out his post here. And say a prayer for peace on earth.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

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.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Mystagogy

In the fourth century, in the years following the Edict of Milan - the pronouncement by Emperor Constantine that Christianity was now an officially recognized religion and could therefore no longer be legally persecuted - a new genre of Christian literature began to emerge called Mystagogy. These were a series of lectures which were given to catechumens to explain to them the significance of sacramental acts like baptism, eucharist, chrism, etc. These lectures, in other words, introduced the neophytes into the mysteries of the Church, heretofore unknown to them.

In the process of catechesis, a candidate for baptism would learn all about the story of Scripture, he or she would learn the meaning of the different beliefs, the expectations of the Church - that one would engage in works of charity, etc. - perhaps the history and story of some of the saints, and other meaningful and important information. However, the catechumens would never learn about the sacraments for these were mysteries and were saved for baptized persons only.

Thus, the beginning of the Eucharistic liturgy, 'The Liturgy of the Faithful' as it was formerly called, was marked when the president of the congregation would shout: "The doors! The doors!" All the unbaptized would be escorted outside the Church to the porch and the doors would quickly be shut before the blessed host was brought out. No one in the outside world knew what went on inside those doors. As a result, nasty rumors began to circulate that the Christians were cannabals, eating on the flesh of babies. The first person to reveal what went on was the second century apologist Justin Martyr, who revealed some of the secrets so that the rumors would be shown to be false. But many Christians, I am told, were non plussed with his actions. These mysteries were sacred. Pearls that were not to be thrown to swine.

Still not until the Mystagogies do we get a glimpse into the deep, significant meaning that the early Christians placed on these mysterious acts. For in these sacramental acts, their salvation - and salvation history and the salvation of the world - was enacted. To be baptized is to cross the Red Sea into the promised land and to enter into the courts of the heavenly king. To put on the new white robe after baptism is to put on the garments of the new man, the wedding garments that would make one fit to attend the wedding feast of heaven. To feast on the Eucharist is to take the body of Christ into yourself, to become one with God.

Significantly, the catechumens were not instructed on the meaning of the sacramental acts until after they had gone through them. The ancients, unlike us, did not believe that one had to understand something cognitively before he or she could experience it. By the time they understood that baptism was the holy act of passing into the promised land, those catechumens were already sitting at the wedding feast and were becoming one with their God. For only such a one as this was worthy to know the mysteries.

Friday, February 01, 2008

Truism

"I should not like my writing to spare other people the trouble of thinking. But, if possible, to stimulate someone to thoughts of his own."

-Ludwig Wittgenstein