CCBlogs thinking critically, living faithfully

I was listening to the radio this morning.  I was happy, I was sipping my coffee, and I was looking forward to a leisurely day.  Then Jim Wallis came on the radio to discuss the latest antics of our national “village idiot,” Glenn Beck.  apparently, Glenn Beck has taken it upon himself to out all of those heretical Christians that are perverting the Gospel with messages of social justice.  In what has apparently become a personal vendetta against Jim Wallis and ministries like Sojourners,

“Glenn Beck recently told his listeners to leave any church that teaches social justice, and to report its pastor to church authorities.”

Clearly what the church needs is more of Beck’s feel good, watered down, Christmas sweater wearing, capitalism in a “Christian wrapper” spirituality.  My morning is shot.  I spat my coffee at the radio in disgust, leisure as been replaced with indignation at Beck’s blatant and rampant misuse of the Evangelical right, and I am now irritated at how obnoxiously misdirected Beck really is (for the record, he may have overshot his religious base on this one – I know quite a few conservative Evangelicals that hold Wallis in high esteem).

Here is how Wallis suggests we respond to Beck.  He wants you to go to his site and mail a personal message to Beck outing yourself.  It reads:

Dear Mr. Beck,

I’m a Christian who believes in the biblical call to social justice.

I stand in the tradition of the Hebrew prophets and the teachings of Jesus that demonstrate God’s will for justice in every aspect of our individual, social, and economic lives.

I hereby “report” myself to you, and promise to report myself to the appropriate church authorities. I hope you’ll be hearing from them as well.

I usually don’t get fired up about pundits, especially not provocateurs like Beck.  Nonetheless, the man is a disease infiltrating the Christian “right.”  I have signed the petition, and so should you.  Sign It, Sign It Now! (please)  :0)

Take action against Glenn  Beck

When I was 21, I was crazy about a girl who was moving to England. It was silly to hope, but I couldn’t help it. In the weeks before she left, we spent a lot of time together. It became obvious that she was feeling the same as me yet neither of us could admit it. How could a relationship work over such a long distance?   Sure enough, three weeks after she’d settled into her London flat, it all came gushing out. We were separated by thousands of miles—yet in finally releasing those emotions—we felt closer than ever before. Our interactions took place mostly over the phone or email and we were thrilled when she got a new computer because we could use video chat to be even closer. For a while, romance overcame our separation.   But eventually, I came to realize that nothing could ever quite cover that distance. It didn’t matter if it was her voice over the phone, little notes in my inbox or even her smiling face on the monitor—she was never really, truly there. We could talk for hours but it wouldn’t satisfy. I wanted to take her to coffee, to surprise her at work, to smell her hair, to touch her hand—in short, I desired her presence, not just her attention.   It was this notion of presence that was at stake during the Christological controversies of the 4th century. Arius had pushed God to such an insurmountable distance, that the presence of God in the Incarnation could not be possible. Sure, Christ was a special being, but he was still just a creation—like anyone else. Thus for Arius, God existed at a distance and the cross was little more than an elaborate video chat.   Nicaea rejected this notion of skype Jesus. For Athanasius, no creature—not even the first creature—could redeem our sin and reconcile this world to its Creator. God’s presence within creation as well as without speaks to our being both body and spirit. The world is good. God dwells in it. But it needs to be renewed. The incarnation makes God’s immanence and transcendence concievable.   Surely the incarnation as fully God and fully human is a matter of relationship. But this relationship extends beyond God-Human into the very center of God’s being. It is in God’s very nature to yearn for another and thus one who loves requires also a beloved.   I was crazy about her, but my beloved in London and I eventually broke up—though not until after she’d moved back home. This wasn’t because we lacked chemistry or desire for one another but because we were two separate people who realized our very different lives could not be joined together.   But in the Trinity, such a separation is impossible. The Father, the Son and the Spirit are one in substance, meaning their wills cannot conflict nor can there ever really be a reliable dividing line between the three persons of the one God.   Now, God is not your boyfriend and romance is certainly not the only way to picture this unity. The goal of this post is not to encompass the variety of ways we speak of God as three in one but to center our dialogue on the idea of relationship. The Trinity is not a distant, hazy philosophical concept but an approachable, devotional and necessary reflection. The discussion is not complete and we are not meant to arbitrarily believe it. Rather, it is an ongoing conversation that will inevitably leak into our lives as grace, church and mission.

Still (sort of) A Friend Of

There was a time when I thought of myself as “Emergent.”  Indeed, as I have posted before, I have certain significant sympathies with some “Emergent” ideas and thinkers; I’m no Mark Driscoll’ian re-verter to a pre-emergent state.  But I’ve most certainly become strongly convinced of Catholic Christianity as received in the patristic horizon and find the unconsumated Derridean “trace” and “never-being” of the Church in some Emergent thought to be rhetorically violent.

Indeed I’ve seen some recent examples of anti-intellectualism that have rather frustrated me.  Rather than “naming names” and contributing to the endless use of the internet to anonymously defame people I’m going to stick to the concepts and explain why I think they constitute in some cases a will-to-power and in others a nascent anti-intellectualism.

There have been some using an old narrative to provide a critique of the Church which is quite overused. In regards to how the Church uses and abuses power is very relevant and incisive, but with regards to how the Church reflects theologically, is fundamentally flawed.  This old narrative is the one about the “Greek Fall” of the church.  The story goes like this:  Once upon a time the church was a tiny band of common and egalitarian followers of Jesus who thought “biblically.”  Then Nicaea and Constantine happened (yes, the narrative is this simplistic-hence why it is too easy) which “Constantinianized” the church, who lost the “real” “biblical” story and transformed it’s thought into foreign and evil “Greek” “metaphysical” categories of thought.  This “Greek Fall” of the church has continued to this day and is finally becoming overthrown by the grassroots emergence thinkers most of whom read a lot of Caputo and Moltmann.

Now I will certainly allow that the way in which the legalization and officialization of Christianity occured gave space for long historical abuses of power.  But anyone who thinks that churches and bishops and Christians never abused authority before Constantine is someone who just hasn’t taken any time to read patristic (or New Testament!!!) literature.  Similarly, so-called “Greek” thought is used all throughout the New Testament.  There are those who use the “GF” narrative sometimes and easily to move from “Greek” ideas in the early church are bad to “Greek” ideas in the New Testament are bad.

There are many problems with this but I’ll keep to one in particular that has me riled up.  Cultural mediation goes all the way down.  Before NT authors were “using” Greek “ideas” OT authors were using Greek “ideas,” and before that they were using a whole slew of Ancient Near Eastern “ideas.”  There is no pure Hebrew narrative and there is no single “biblical” narrative outside of the traditioning communities.  We cannot reach back, peel off Greek, or Akkadian, or Babylonian layers and reach some “biblical” “un-philosophical” and “pure” narrative.  The logic and the argument fails to convince.  People; Narratives; Scriptures; Educations – none of them come in a vacuum.

…Now to another recent incident.  There is a longstanding allergy to “systematic theology” in some Emergent thought.  At one time I shared such an allergy.  I would still reject any presumption to create a systematic theology that sought to close off and totalize it’s narrative but what I’ve come to believe is that what initially may have been a judicious use of Lyotard has turned to a misunderstanding of what he was getting at; or at least how I take Lyotard.

The problem with a “meta-narrative” is not the size and scope of the story being told but the manner in which its truth claims are presented as authoritative.  The problem with “modern” narratives is that they laid claim to authority by use of a second story, that of “reason,” to substantiate all knowledge claims.  In post-foundational epistemologies to which I am sympathetic, there is no way to reach outside of a narrative to justify and lend authority to the narrative.  It’s truthfulness is judged by how well it explains all phenomena that it claims to comprehend and how widely and deeply it’s claims are assumed by authoritative story-telling communities.  Such stories can be as large as they can manage and still not be “systematics” in a “modern” fashion provided they allow for critique, for dialectic, for growth and resist totalization and oppression of other voices on a priori grounds.

Now not everybody needs to systematize their theology.  But the refusal to dialogue with those who draw out seemingly logical strains implicit in ones own theology, be it “systematic” or not, is to hide behind an anti-intellectual screen at best and if ones own theology constitutes a critique then at worst it constitutes a will-to-power.  It hides ones foundations beyond critique while secretly using those same foundations to critique others.  It is especially evil when one uses a philosopher such as Derrida or Caputo to critique other philosophies and theologies and then when asked to defend ones beliefs to hide behind anti-systematics.

These problems seem to repeat themselves over and over again in different ways to me as I keep in touch with some “emergent” thinkers.  This is the inevitable rhetorical violence of using significantly “academic” insights to create and sustain a “populist” movement.  I guess we’re all still waiting for emergence to grow up, as indeed the whole of creation is waiting for all the church to “grow up,” so I don’t say this as self-righteous gloat but as a goad, part of the dialectical pruning and salvation of the Church and the whole world.

 

Identifying the single representative weltanschauung for Islam ultimately proves to be difficult. There must certainly be some unifying presupposition (s) to which all Muslims adhere; but the parsing of perfunctory elements, no matter how salient they seem, from indispensable elements of Islamic orthodoxy will demand a narrowing of the scope of current apologetic efforts. As such, there is a general trend within Christian apologetics to try and reduce such perfunctory elements to absurdity. Unfortunately, an apologetic aimed at dispelling the errata of Islam’s obligatory customs proves unhelpful, either positively or negatively, in providing Christians with a tenable response to the fundamental claims of Islam.[1] Those fundamental claims, then, must be clearly articulated, fairly appraised, and systematically refuted where necessary.[2] Islam’s fundamental theological claims, and consequently the loci for Islam’s weltanschauung, all originate from the Five Pillars of Islam.[3]

The first pillar, the Great Confession or “Shahada” declares that, “There is no god but God, and Muhammad is the messenger of God.”[4] According to Braswell, this assertion of monotheism and belief in Muhammad as the final prophet of Allah entails necessarily ancillary doctrines of angels, sacred texts (of which the Qur’an is the preeminent), judgment and an afterlife; it is the “basis of the belief system.”[5] Tim Winter provides important insight into the Islamic understanding of the Shahada and subsequent Islamic theology explaining that theology can only be recognized as Islamic, “to the extent that it may be traced back in some way to the prophet Muhammad and his distinctive vision of the One God.”[6] Consequently, there are other beliefs and theological reflections that contribute to Islamic weltanschauung, but only as they can be traced through the Qur’an to Muhammad via the proclamation of the Shahada.

The second pillar, prayer or “Salat” constitutes much of the liturgy and ceremonial conduct of worship in Islam.[7] In Islam, the place of adulation and personal exchange with God all takes place in daily prayers.[8] The third pillar, almsgiving or “Zakat,” is the discipline in which Muslims are called to serve and minister to their community through giving.[9] The fourth pillar, ritual fasting or “Saum,” calls for a period of abstinence from drinking, eating, and other sensual pleasures during the month of Ramadan. The fifth pillar, the pilgrimage or “Hajj,” obliges every faithful Muslim to visit Mecca.[10]

There is a clear proclamation on behalf of Islam that Muhammad was correcting the way in which Christianity corrupted the message God had given to the Jews.[11] As such, Muhammad and his successors saw the Qur’an as an effort by Allah to set the record straight regarding a “confessional world complicated by Christian disputes.”[12] Naturally, Christians are going to respond in like fashion. Albeit there are some similarities,[13] there are fundamental conflicts between Christians and Muslims. Whether there is distinction in the God-head, whether the Qur’an is a revelation from God and consistent with the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, and whether Muhammad is a prophet of God are all matters in need of serious attention.

Problematically, some Christian polemicists have abandoned addressing these fundamental claims, and they have resorted to unhelpful tactics. By way of example, Richard Cimino argues that Evangelical Christians, in particular, have pushed rhetoric about Islam to a polemically fevered pitch as a kind of nationalistic, fear mongering response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11. This ought to be received as a stinging criticism that is indicative of a willingness to focus on what are seen as devious practices within Islamic culture by Christians instead of making lucid arguments against their foundational claims.[14] According to Cimino, this is problematic because much of the positive, global-apologetic toward Muslims argued by polemicists like Ergun Caner centers on a characterization of Islam as dangerous, militant, and cultic.[15] However, this should all be tempered by Thomas Kidd’s research, which demonstrates plainly that such anti-Islamic polemics as Cimino describes were being leveled against Muslims by “Anglo-Americans” as early as 1697.[16]

So, while there is definitely an attempt to demonize the Islamic weltanschauung on the basis of mischaracterization, while there have been periods of interfaith dialogue initiated by Christians and spoiled by terrorists, and while there are clear examples of current Evangelical scholars focusing their apologetic efforts on ancillary issues within Islam, such behavior in no way belongs exclusively to the modern Evangelical movement. That particular characterization by Cimino is unwarranted. Nonetheless, Christian apologists should avoid being trapped by polemics preoccupied by what amount to “straw men” parading around as reductio ad absurdum arguments. There is sufficient dispute to be had with the foundational presuppositions of Islam to diminish the expediency of such distractions.

Perhaps the most direct conflicts between the truth claims of Christianity and Islam come from the Shahada. The Islamic understanding of the Great Confession places Muslim theology at odds with Christian theology regarding the Trinity, the juxtaposition of Jesus and Muhammad, and the message of the New Testament. Islamic thought on the tawhid, or “Oneness” of God, is extremely prohibitive of any notion that derived distinction within the person of God.[17] Muhammad revealed through the writing of the Qur’an that Jesus was indeed a prophet of Allah, but that he was not the Son of God, and was succeeded by Muhammad, the final prophet.[18] Finally, the Qur’an teaches that the divisions between Jews and Christians were the result of the revelation of God given to Jesus, the Injeel, being corrupted by the early church.[19]

What, then, should be the approach Christians use in positive apologetics to Muslims? A simple response is to use the truth of Scripture and the testimony of the Qur’an about Jesus and God. Surely, demonstrating how the doctrine of the Trinity maintains the tawhid of God within Islamic conceptualization will become an important element to bridging the gap between the two. Additionally, settling some of the theological issues that Muslim’s have with Trinitarian theology would necessarily affect their doctrinal concerns over Jesus and the Gospel account recorded in the New Testament. If the Trinity maintains tawhid, then the notion that Jesus is the Son of God is tenable, and there is no need to doubt the veracity of the New Testament accounts. Perhaps to Caner’s frustration and Geisler’s delight, John D.C. Anderson says, “I have never met a Muslim-background believer who regards the God he previously sought to worship as a wholly false god. Instead, he is filled with wonder and gratitude, that he has now been brought to know that God as he really is, in Jesus Christ our Lord.”[20]

[1] However, this claim ought not to be interpreted as saying there is no value in such critiques, only that they prove unhelpful in demonstrating that Muslim presuppositions are fundamentally flawed.

[2] Apologists should appreciate all the while, of course, that many scholars find a great deal of theological overlap within the monotheistic traditions, ultimately making the apologetic effort easier in many ways. See Michael Ipgrave, ed., Building a Better Bridge: Muslims, Christians, and the Common Good (Washington: Georgetown University Press, 2008), which features articles by Rowan Williams and Timothy Winter; Hans Küng, Der Islam: Geschichte, Gegenwart, Zukunft (Munich: Piper Verlag, 2004); and Wilfred Cantwell Smith, The Meaning and End of Religion (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991).

[3] See George W. Braswell, Islam: Its Prophet, Peoples, Politics and Power (Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1996), 59; Ed Hindson, and Ergun Caner, eds., The Popular Encyclopedia of Apologetics: Surveying the Evidence for the Truth of Christianity (Eugene: Harvest House Publishers, 2008), 279; and Keith E. Swartley, ed., Encountering the World of Islam (Atlanta: Authentic Media, 2005), 88.

[4] Braswell, Islam: Its Prophet, Peoples, Politics and Power, 59.

[5] Ibid., 60

[6] Tim Winter, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Classical Islamic Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 5.

[7] Braswell, Islam: Its Prophet, Peoples, Politics and Power, 60; Swartley, Encountering the World of Islam, 90.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Swartley, Encountering the World of Islam, 92.

[10] Ibid., 95.

[11] Winter, The Cambridge Companion, 5.

[12] Ibid.

[13] In fact, there is remarkable continuity between the other four Pillars of Islam and the broader expression of Christian belief and practice as seen in the “catholic Church.” Swartley provides a helpful chart in demonstrating the biblical corollaries to the Pillars of Islam. See Swartley, Encountering the World of Islam, 94.

[14] Richard Cimino, “‘No God in Common:’ American Evangelical Discourse on Islam after 9/11,” Review of Religious Research 47, no. 2 (December 2005): 162-74. Perhaps more immediately troublesome for students of Liberty Theological Seminary is the fact that Cimino singles out Ergun Caner’s Unveiling Islam as a polemic set out not only to demonize Islam, but also to “dispel the position of Geisler and Saleeb that Allah is the same God (Jehovah) that Christians and Jews worship.” See Cimino, “‘No God in Common,’” 166. Interestingly, Caner has included Geisler as a contributor in his Popular Encyclopedia of Apologetics. While Caner must certainly be given the berth to respectfully disagree with even those he includes in his edited works, all of the articles concerning Islam in the Popular Encyclopedia are authored by Caner. It may all prove coincidental, but such a situation only helps to strengthen Cimino’s critique.

[15] Ibid.

[16] Thomas S. Kidd, “‘Is It Worse to Follow Mahomet than the Devil?’ Early American Uses of Islam,” Church History 72, no. 4 (December 2003): 773.

[17] Braswell, Islam: Its Prophet, Peoples, Politics and Power, 45; Swartley, Encountering the World of Islam, 135-137. Winter also makes an interesting point, “Its [monotheism] inbuilt paradoxes, which had already exercised divided Jews and Christians, ensured that most Muslim thinkers came to recognize the need for a formal discipline of argument and proof which could establish the proper sense of a scripture which turned out to be open to many different interpretations.” See Winter, The Cambridge Companion, 6.

[18] Braswell, Islam: Its Prophet, Peoples, Politics and Power, 278-284; Swartley, Encountering the World of Islam, 35-36.

[19] Braswell, Islam: Its Prophet, Peoples, Politics and Power, 249-252; Swartley, Encountering the World of Islam, 292-295.

[20]
John D.C. Anderson, “The Missionary Approach to Islam,” Missiology 4, no. 3 (1976), 295.

“The Postmodern God: A Theological Reader, ed. Graham Ward”

• Paperback: 416 pages
• Publisher: Wiley-Blackwell (January 13, 1998)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0631201416
• ISBN-13: 978-0631201410

Thanks to Blackwell for the review copy!

I know, I know.  We’re all sick to death of the term “Postmodern.”  I’ve found the term to be drastically decreasing in it’s utility.  I think that it can still carry meaning in reference to particular genealogies of “the modern” but I think we’ve all heard one too many people spout off about “postmodern” philosophy that haven’t but read a book by Tony Jones:  Perhaps the daring may have read some Peter Rollins but generally the word has been tossed around ad nauseum both for attack and dismissal and uncritical acceptance.

It is for this very reason that this book is very useful.  The Postmodern God is a reader in “postmodern theology” edited by Graham Ward, professor of Contextual Theology and Ethics at Manchester University.

The book is roughly divided into two parts.  The first being a collection of essays by various influential and authoritative authors loosely identified as “postmodern,” relating to specifically “theological” topics; the second part is another collection of essays by more recent theologians who build in diverse ways off of the foundational works of authors featured in the first part.

There is a short biographical preface to each of the essays by the “primary” authors which not only introduces the author’s bio but gives a concise sketch of the larger “projects” which they undertook.  I found these introductions to be spectacularly useful as I approached this book in self-study.  If I had read just the essays I would have had a rough time knowing which authors works to pursue more for my own interests.  Piecing these introductions together one gets a loose historical narrative of the development of early “postmodern” thought and how each author fits into the intellectual spectrum.  In this way I was able to see for myself how, for instance, the work of Roland Barthes will  be important for me as one who wishes to train in historical theology.

In addition to this, Graham Ward has written an introductory essay which is worth the price of the whole volume.  In it he gives shape to what “postmodern” means (to him) and gives a vision for what he believes are necessary correctives to “liberal” and “nihilistic” postmodernities.  Ward sees the information age as the logical and nihilistic pinnacle of the “modern” obsession with making men into gods.  The internet eliminates all boundaries of time and space thereby creating a false omnipotence:  On can access chat rooms in Argentina, databanks in Saudi Arabia, images of every place including a picture of the very house one is in.  Everything and everybody is immediately and unmediatedly present to the cogito who controls and manipulates all according to h/er whim.  Ward goes on to trace how postmodernity manifests itself in culture and gives a concise historical intro to the entire volume from Nietzsche to Cupitt.

It think that it would be rather laborious to sum up each of the essays but I will list the contents so that you can understand how wide the net is cast in this fine collection:

Part I

Georges Bateille: From Theory of Religion
Jacques Lacan: The Death of God
Emmanuel Levinas: God and Philosophy
Roland Barthes: Wrestling with the Angel: Textual Analysis of Gen 32.23-32
Rene’ Girard: The God of Victims
Michel Foucault: From The History of Sexuality
Michel de Certeau: How is Christianity Thinkable Today? & White Ecstasy
Jacques Derrida: From How to Avoid Speaking – think Peter Rollins
Luce Irigaray: Equal to Whom?
Julia Kristeva: From In the Beginning was Love

As you can see this features a wonderfully diverse crew:  Feminists like Irigaray and Kristeva; philosophers like Levinas, Derrida and Foucault; and Catholic thinkers like Girard and de Certeau.  Each of the essays are filled with potential insight and sparring material.  They relate to everything from epistemology to “thick descriptions” of phenomenon.  A veritable cornocopia of critical thought.

The second part features essays by John Milbank, Jean-Luc Marion, Catherine Pickstock, Jean-Yves Lacoste, Rebecca S. Chopp, Gilian Rose and Edith Wyschogrod.  Notable among them for me were Wyschogorod’s essay from her excellent book “Saints and Postmodernism” and also Milbank’s “Postmodern Critical Augustinianism: A Short Summa in Forty-two Responses to Unasked Questions” originally published in Modern Theology- is an absolute must-read introduction to his larger “project.”  It’s as clear as you’re ever going to get him to be, his language is much less obtuse and abstract than it normally is and it is a joy to read.

This volume is an outstanding introduction to “postmodern theology” that is both well conceived and well executed.  It can stand alone, but it can also be coupled with another Blackwell collection of essays that I will be reviewing very soon, the Blackwell Companion to Postmodern Theology.  I will also tip my hat to another Ward book that is very helpful, aptly entitled Theology and Contemporary Critical Theory.  Though expensive I’ve found it the easiest to read of any “intro” book to these sorts of topics.

In passing I should also mention that Graham Ward is a priest in the Church of England and a prize for us Anglicans.  I am currently composing a comprehensive essay examining his erotic ecclesiology through his “Cities Project.”  Expect that at the beginning of the summer.

There seems to be a growing interest in several internet circles with discussing the ills currently besetting the place of the Humanities in the University (not even to mention the ills in those).  For my part I’ll continue my theoretical and hopefully “unsettling” proposals concerning seminaries.

I think that most seminaries could and should go without accreditation.

This by no means, again, that we will be giving half-assed educations to clergy.  The goal should be affordable education, but certainly not poor education; these are proposals to enable us to do both.

A response to The Last Rainbow, an apocalyptic poem for lent by James Stambaugh.

The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good.
Genesis 1:12

Speak to the people of Israel and say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving you, the land shall observe a sabbath for the Lord.
Leviticus 25:2

The earth lies polluted
under its inhabitants;
for they have transgressed laws,
violated the statutes,
broken the everlasting covenant.
Isaiah 24:5

O land, land, land,
hear the word of the Lord!
Jeremiah 22:29

The time is surely coming, says the Lord God,
when I will send a famine on the land;
not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water,
but of hearing the words of the Lord.
Amos 8:11

In the most recent edition of The Christian Century (of whose blog network we are a “featured blog”), Methodist bishop Will Willimon addresses some of his previous work – most of which was done in tandem with his holiness Stanley Hauerwas – with a bit of embarrassment.

“In the student’s puerile response you hear an echo of your own pronouncement – but on undergraduate lips the thought sounds unbearably stupid.  I’ve come to feel a bit that way upon rereading Resident Aliens” p22

In the article +Willimon goes on to repudiate the idea that “Christianity is a practice” because he thinks that it fails to account for the distinctives of Christian belief.  He worries that the approach previously espoused by himself can run the risk of old style Christian liberalism that universalizes and unparticularizes the faith, rendering it one practice among many with a formless god.

I absolutely sympathize with the bishop’s belief that emphasizing “practice” can collapse any sense of “orthodoxy” into a moralism of “praxis.”  Liberalism is pretty lame. BUT…

The idea of separating one from another is indicative of a wrong view of both “orthodoxy” and “orthopraxy.”  Not too unlike the false separation of “theology” from “spirituality.”

If I might be allowed the indulgence of disagreeing with someone who will most likely forever be known as one of America’s greatest bishops, it is by our “practices” that we can come to know anything of “the qualitative difference” between God and ourselves.

On the one hand there is the practice of daily devotion and the celebration of the Mass, especially the Eucharist.  These are the “practices” which shape our minds, bodies and hearts to think as the Church.  Reading Scripture, praying in word and in silence, confessing our sins, praising in doxology – these in part teach us how to the know God as the Church knows God.  +Willimon should fear that we will have any content to our faith without these “practices.”

And on the other hand, we put our worship into action with other “practices…”  Justice, mercy, compassion etc…  These too teach us of the God we worship.  If we “practice”  just the “devotion” and neglect the “justice,” we fail to be Christ in the world; and if we reduce the faith to moralism we malign our God revealed in Jesus Christ.

But, and here’s the kicker, it’s all “practice.”

So don’t despair of your previous work bishop Willimon, it’s still good as gold.

A long time ago I “started” one of the likely millions of neglected blog series in which I was hoping to address theological education:  It’s needs, it’s shortcomings, it’s potential and future(s).  Being inspired by several posts of late I wanted to take this series up again.  The possibility of re-configuring theological education is something that I take rather seriously and am passionate enough about to consider strongly participating in in my future.

A quick review:

• In one post I said that so-called “ecumenical” seminaries are overrated.  If your priesthood is concerned with apostolic succession and sacramentology then it makes no sense to take the majority of your education in a Baptist school, though for “us” the “Anglican Year” is a brilliant stroke that lessens the ambiguity of ‘ecumenical’ schooling.  School for your denomination and theology is what I say.
• In another, in answer to the musings (I and II) of Pastor Carol Merritt I replied that, No, we cannot afford educated clergy, but neither can we afford uneducated clergy; so we’ve got to find a way to do both.

Having laid a framework with these two statements I would like to build on it.  Having said what I think about “ecumenical” seminaries, from this point forward I speak as an Episcopalian to Episcopalians but I would hope that what I write would not be relegated relevant to Episcopalians only.  In fact I think that much of it could be highly relevant for most fellowships as most are facing financial setbacks and serious issues of a lack of Christian identity.

There is a place, a VERY important place, for “research” institutions in the Church, but I’m not convinced that every seminary should be such an institution, or at the very least, we should not be expecting all or even most of our seminary professors to be on the forefront of modern academic theology; writing articles for “Modern Theology” and composing exhaustive tomes of critical work.  It seems to me that there is a near anti-christian pace of academic-theological anxiety: “Publish, Publish, Publish!”

For most seminaries, the training of priests should be the single most important task to which everything else is secondary.

I would greatly appreciate any and all input especially for those who have been through seminary, are in it now, are teaching for one or who are soon to attend.

Saw this and decided you all needed to see it, because I couldn’t stop laughing.  It’s amazing how the scene takes on a different meaning when you change the soundtrack – what was surely an emotional, ecstatic situation looks like something Dante would write about.  Hilarious {Sorry for the double-post, Tony – you can drop it in post order if you like, but you guys had to see this, now}

I’ve been known for periodically maligning “Evangelicalism” and even “Pentecostalism” in various blog posts.  But, as I feel quite strongly about a potential future in Anglican/Orthodox and Anglican/Pentecostal work, I am far from having a uniformly small opinion of Pentecostals.  Indeed, I think it would be rather blind not to believe that, despite certain evil manifestations (“Health & Wealth” or various Trinitarian heresy), God has indeed given the Church a “wind” from the Spirit.

So I wanted to make mention of a few things that Pentecostals have to teach us, keeping in mind that I attempt to use “Pentecostal” in such a way as to describe Pentecostalism understood through historical churches rather than as anybody who expresses Charismatic gifts.  Always remember that Charismatic Christians of various denominations from Catholics to Anglicans are growing along with Pentecostals (which leads me to believe that Charismatization need not accompany bad eschatology, but I digress)

• I am not an Evangelist, or at least I’d make a poor one and I’ve always been uncomfortable with it.  But churches that grow are churches that evangelize and/or send missionaries.  With the globalization of Christianity it is to be preferred that evangelism be done by the local church rather than by us Westerners, but the huge priority of Mission (almost never connected to lame trendy words like “Missional”) in Pentecostalism is a judgement on those Churches who feel no need to evangelize, or worse, find such a thing intolerable or unnecessary.
• Pentecostals were post-critical before it was cool or justified epistemologically.  It forces us to attend to the Texts instead of “spiritualizing” bits of the NT which grate against rationalist nerves.
• Pentecostals aren’t afraid to go all Amos 5 on our liturgical asses
• Prayers for healing and manifestations of the “charismatic” gifts are something that all churches should practice (don’t choke the Holy Spirit)
• Pentecostals don’t neglect “the laity”
• Pentecostals have played a significant role in reminding us that God is Trinity – “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver or Life, who proceeds from the Father (and the …?), with the Father and the Son s/he is worshipped and glorified.”
• Pentecostals are unafraid of not just “helping the poor” but “being the poor.”  Go into inner cities and who’s doing a most of the work with “minorities” and immigrants?  There is a sort of slight embarrassment for me in being in what is often thought of as the white religion of the bourgeoisie in America.

Don’t get me wrong, I think that Pentecostalism has a LOT to learn from the church Catholic and historic.  One hopes that as a movement it will be incorporated into the historic bodies, but that’s another list.  Until then…Go Pentecostals!

Growing up, my house had probably more than a dozen Bibles in it. There were teen study bibles, children’s picture book bibles, women’s devotional bibles and any number of translations and packagings. The Bible, for me, was supposed to be neither a particularly ancient nor a particularly distant document, but a current, thrilling, best seller complete with pictures and info boxes to keep me up-to-date. The prolific rise of the “customized” Bible has conditioned the modern, western Christian to read Scripture individually as a personal book.

While many Christians, including myself, have found this process edifying, I think we forget that this is not how most Christians in history—nor most Christians alive today—experience Scripture. Bibles were foreign documents for most of history, often written in a language other than the common tongue. For most of Christian history, it was likely that less than half of those people in Church even knew how to read. With this distance came a degree of “otherness” completely lost on us today.

Of course, one of the great successes of the Reformation was making Scripture accessible to the people and this is not a change I would quickly undo. But I must admit it also changed the way Christians experienced the Bible, from a communal to an individual activity. No longer was the primary window into Scripture listening to the stories and letters surrounded by family and friends but sitting alone in a library, studying the minutiae of the written word. Rising literacy and the printing press only made this kind of armchair biblical scholarship more prevalent. While I refuse to condemn this wonderful innovation in Christian History, I cannot deny it’s unintended effect of localizing and individualizing the Scriptural experience.

EDIT 2/24/10: Commenter George P. Wood alerted me to a worthwhile quote I want to include here:

Most North American Christians assume they have a right, if not an obligation, to read the Bible. I challenge that assumption. No task is more important than for the church to take the Bible out of the hands of individual Christians in North America. Let us no longer give the Bible to every child when they enter the third grade or whenever their assumed rise to Christian maturity is marked… Let us rather tell them and their parents that they are possessed by habits far too corrupt for them to be encouraged to read the Bible on their own.

-Stanley Hauerwas, Unleashing the Scripture

NOTE: It’s Lent, people; it’s supposed to be depressing.

 

No one remembers

When the last rainbow appeared.

Was it after that last oil spill?

The one that finally did the ocean in?

Was it after the last mountain was leveled?

Or when the last hill was slit open?

When the last of the mineral wealth was stolen?

Was it after the last forest was paved over?

After the last marsh was converted to overflow parking?

Or was it just before that delicate, unknown moment

When the scales were tipped ever so slightly,

And the air became so pregnant with poison

That that very last persistent little bird

Could not lift her petrol-slick wings in flight?

When did we break that age-old treaty

Between God and all humankind–

When God promised not to destroy the earth?

When did we take it upon ourselves

To do that which God would not do?

The last rainbow happened decades ago.

 

Smith, James K.A. “What Hath Cambridge To Do with Azusa Street?  Radical Orthodoxy and Pentecostal Theology in Conversation.” PNEUMA: The Journal of the Society for Pentecostal Studies 25, no. 1 (Spring 2003): 97-114.

First, if you don’t already know, James K.A. Smith (PhD, Villanova University; associate professor of philosophy and director of the Seminars in Christian Scholarship at Calvin College) has become, in my opinion, the North American, Protestant “face” of RO.  His assessment of the Cambridge movement is not that of a total outsider, but there is certainly some reluctance in his appraisal of RO.  Nonetheless, he is shaping a presentation of RO that is less Anglo-Catholic, but not less liturgical; less politically liberal, but not less interested in social justice or cultural critique; and less continental, but not less skeptical of a secular framework so dependent on analytical philosophy.  His writing is erudite, but not as unassailable as Milbank and crew. 

Let’s just be honest, Milbank (especially) is to theological discourse what electronics manual writers were to VCR programming.  He has helped to produce a theological movement that is new and refreshing without being trite or kitschy, but his writing is so technical that it is likely to be out of reach for all but colleagues and graduate students (I don’t even know many advanced undergraduate students that could slog through it, if any).

Second, if you didn’t already know, he (Smith) is apparently a Pentecostal – a Reformed Pentecostal.  Here is an audio feed of Smith discussing being a Reformed Pentecostal, and a great article by Smith on “Thinking Pentecostals” where he characterizes Pentecostal theology as,

“Theology forged at the pulpit and in prayer, in the heat of revival and the swelter of the camp meeting—a theology that bears the stamp of its liturgical origins.”

His conclusion is that because of Pentecostalism’s origins it has not yet been given to academic treatments, but insists things should (and are about) to change saying, “Still, there is no denying that the early writings left most of Pentecostal thought entirely implicit. What has emerged in recent years is the attempt to make the ideas explicit.”  He, obviously, is one of those attempting to make Pentecostal theology “explicit.”

If you ask me, I think organizations like the Assemblies of God should immediately drop their courtship of individuals like Fee (who has been hugely disappointing to even the most “liberal” Pentecostals in his reluctance to embrace a full Pentecostal identity), and should immediately endorse Smith as next leader and scholar extraordinaire of the Pentecostal movement.

{Author’s Note – *RANT STARTS HERE* -But that still is not going to fly, because if you know anything about the “old guard” in institutions like the A/G you know they will not endorse anyone that will not get on-board with their characterization of tongues as a “Cardinal Doctrine” of the church.  Smith knows too much about theology to go down that road, and so Pentecostalism is going to remain “implicit” – to use Smith’s characterization – *END RANT*-}

 As a way to justify my rant, allow me to quote Smith’s article.  Please, forgive my anachronism.  On pages 109-110, Smith briefly proposes five key elements of a Pentecostal worldview and theology.  There are (1) A positioning of radical openness to God, and in particular, God doing something differently or new…(2)An emphasis on the continued ministry of the Spirit, including continuing revelation, prophecy, and the centrality of charismatic giftings in the ecclesial community…(3) a distinct belief in the healing of the body as a central aspect of the work of atonement…(4) because of an emphasis on the role of experience, and in contrast to rationalistic Evangelical theology, Pentecostal theology is rooted in an affective epistemology that seeks to undo dualisms…(5) a central commitment to empowerment and social justice, with a certain “preferential option  for the marginalized” tracing back to its roots at Azusa Street as a kind of paradigm of marginalization.

This all makes me wonder within what context Smith is a Pentecostal.  Frankly, I read his list and think, “Hey, that sounds really good,” and I almost want to be a Pentecostal again (These are almost certainly those elements of Pentecostalism that one of my current, Episcopal mentors warned me not to abandon).

I have to take issue with Smith’s list, though.  I don’t take issue with the list for any academic reasons, but for pragmatic reasons.  Where is there a Pentecostal church in America that lives out this worldview?  Sure, there may be charismatic Catholics, Reformed Pentecostals, Spirit filled Anglicans, and the like that live out this worldview, but where are there self-professing “Pentecostal” churches that could even articulate any of these points (outside, perhaps, of the first three – and only then in the scope of such A/G abominations as Bible Doctrines: A Pentecostal Perspective, and “Where We Squat” - which doesn’t amount to much more than propaganda )? 

 In fact, my experience has been that most Pentecostal churches believe that #2 is the lense through which all others should be viewed, but only as #2 is rightly articulated through the initiating experience of IPE.  A more recent development among conservative evangelicals, you know – how the “religious right” has been co-opted by the GOP, causes me to doubt seriously that #5 is even plausibly a concern outside of “getting people in the door” of Pentecostal churches.  Finally, I think Smith forgot #6.  He forgot to mention the extreme Pre-Trib rapture, millennial reign, it’s all going up in an apocalyptic fireball eschatology that pervades Pentecostal theology and dampens any affect #4 might have on Pentecostals’ thinking.

{Author’s Note: I should also point out, in fairness, that Smith calls his list “certainly debatable and incomplete” in the very next paragraph}

Your thoughts?

While some difference of opinion exists (when doesn’t it?), Lent is a season of reflection in the Anglican tradition.  Of course, and rightly so, this season of reflection incorporates themes of self-examination and penitence.  It is a time following the joy of the Advent and Epiphany seasons in which Christians contemplate core values and personal priorities in light of the sacrifice made by Christ for humanity’s sake.  It is not a step backward from the proclamation of the Epiphany as much as it is a step inward in response both to the heavy burden promulgated by sin and to the appropriate actions of those set free from that sin by the coming triumph of the resurrection and ascension.  Consequently, Lenten observances ought to be directed toward those ends, and will necessarily be highly individualized and deeply personal.

As such, I feel like my Lenten observances should take a few things into consideration (I guess you could say I have to do some preliminary reflection in preparation for a season of reflection, ironic).

/1/  What has been ruling my life this year?  If experience has taught me anything, it is that I tend to fall into patterns of behavior.  Last year, I realized that “funny” tends to rule my behavior.  I had been willing to do or say many things simply because they were funny.  I’m sure its easy to see how quickly this can become detrimental behavior, but it was also a tool I used to trivialize issues I felt were out of my control.  What kinds of things/behaviors can I give up or practice that will bring those places in my heart back into submission to Christ?

/2/ What has been hindering my worship?  I go through seasons in my life that are characterized by doubt or frustration.  What kinds of things/behaviors can I give up or practice that will bring the broader picture of Christian worship back into focus for me?

/3/ How have I neglected the things God has called me to do in life?  Because I live in a rich country and have many resources (family, friends, colleagues, as well as sufficient monetary means), I can get distracted.  What kinds of things/behaviors can I give up or practice that will remind me to live for others and not for my own pleasure?

What kinds of things do you work through in your personal Lenten observances?

*I know the feast of the Transfiguration isn’t until August, I was just reminded of it because we read about it in the Gospel Reading today. Keep these in mind come the feast proper*

The Transfiguration is one of the most theologically rich stories in the Gospels.  I would point people in the direction of a few resources, two of which are by highly respected Anglican theologians.

The 100th Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey was an ecumenist extraordinaire and he was deeply involved in talks between the Eastern Churches and Anglicanism.  His theological study of the Transfiguration has recently undergone a re-print by Wipf & Stock publishers.

The current Archbishop of Canterbury also has a little book about praying with Icons of Christ.  It pays special attention to icons of the Transfiguration.

I leave you with Sufjan Steven’s profound neo-folk interpretation of the Transfiguration.

When he took the three disciples
to the mountainside to pray,
his countenance was modified, his clothing was aflame.
Two men appeared: Moses and Elijah came;
they were at his side.
The prophecy, the legislation spoke of whenever he would die.

Then there came a word
of what he should accomplish on the day.
Then Peter spoke, to make of them a tabernacle place.
A cloud appeared in glory as an accolade.
They fell on the ground.
A voice arrived, the voice of God,
the face of God, covered in a cloud.

What he said to them,
the voice of God: the most beloved son.
Consider what he says to you, consider what’s to come.
The prophecy was put to death,
was put to death, and so will the Son.
And keep your word, disguise the vision ’till the time has come.

Lost in the cloud, a voice. Have no fear! We draw near!
Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Turn your ear.
Lost in the cloud, a voice. Lamb of God! We draw near!
Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Son of God!

I’ll make this short and sweet.

The Episcopacy is Universal.

The Episcopacy is Geographical.

The Episcopacy is NOT ideological

So pick one or the other.  Either you are going to let ladies be Bishops and suffer the consequences internally OR wait for now and do so at a later date.

If you sacrifice universality or geography you change the meaning of the Episcopacy.  It’s not that I don’t think accomodating difference is unimportant, I most certainly do.  But, I’m convinced that you’d drastically shift the meaning of having a Bishop if you created non-geographical diocese’.

That is all.

I had to write this short bio for a Sys. Theo. class and thought I would repost it here.

I’m twenty-five years old and I grew up in the south suburbs of St. Paul. I was raised Pentecostal and came to faith at Oak Hills Church in Eagan, MN—a church my parents planted when I was five. Oak Hills was heavily influenced by the Willow Creek model and consequently I grew up with an outreach-focused mindset but was unfamiliar with hymns, liturgy or the creeds (my church met in public schools for most of my life and we didn’t have an organ, an alter or a choir).

I felt called to work in the Church when I was quite young and volunteered in the children and youth ministries as well as took numerous short term missions trips to Eastern Europe as a high school student. I attended North Central University in downtown Minneapolis in the Pastoral Studies B.A. program (essentially a mini-M. Div.) with the intention of getting ordained as an Assemblies of God minister and perhaps becoming a missionary in Eastern Europe.

My first two years of college were a difficult time as I started exploring my faith more critically and became dissatisfied with some of the answers provided by my tradition. I decided to take a year off from school and moved to England to intern at a non-profit called Next Level International which worked in former communist nations. This year abroad changed me in more ways than this space could allow. A short list includes 1) my exposure to real poverty and thus my re-evaluating my perspective on vocation, 2) my reading a lot of books and discovering that I actually enjoyed studying and 3) my experiencing worship in beautiful Anglican and Eastern Orthodox churches and realizing there was a whole world of Christian history and tradition I’d never experienced.

After returning home I continued exploring these new passions. I completed my degree but realized I couldn’t become ordained in the Assemblies of God. I took a year off after graduation to discern my future. During that year I started attending an Episcopalian church and was eventually confirmed. I read a lot of N.T. Wright and realized I enjoyed teaching more than anything else in the world.

As of today, I hope to be college professor someday and have adventures on the side like Indiana Jones. I’m fascinated by biblical literature and chose to focus in Old Testament partially due to my infatuation with narrative, partially because Hebrew is way cooler than Greek and partially due to my adoration for an influential OT professor I had as an undergrad. I’m open to ordination in the Episcopal Church, but that is a long discernment process and I feel I’ve only just become an Anglican and have much to learn.

One final thing: I have little experience with Lutherans and chose this seminary both because of the strength of its Bible program and it’s proximity to my home. Fall semester was my best ever (both in terms of academics and enjoying what I’m studying) and for this class, I’m looking forward to someone finally explaining to me what “Law and Gospel” means.

DISCLAIMER: I refuse to declare “the best” or even “the notable” albums of 2009. The best I can is offer is a list of music that gripped me last year. So let there be no hateful comments or shoes thrown.

Merriweather Post Pavillion (Animal Collective): Easily my favorite album of 2009. Epic, crazy, ugly soundscapes. Manners (Passion Pit): Worth the buzz. Electronic pop with a lovely twist Veckatimest (Grizzly Bear): Such a mature sound from a sophomore album. Eclectic with a mix of post-rock and folk. Very easy to listen to while studying. Ellipse (Imogen Heap): Lovely mixing and creative noises turned music. The xx (The xx): Chill, London sob stories. Listen to it late at night with headphones. Dynamic minimalism The BQE (Sufjan Stevens): Read ADHUNT’s post and accompanying comments Humbug (Arctic Monkeys): A great follow album for Britain’s indie blog approved darlings. A return to the attitude rock is supposed to have before Ben Gibbard made us all sensitive and dull. Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix (Phoenix): They won a Grammy. Listen to them anyway. Grand (Matt and Kim): So much fun with a drum set and a Casio keyboard Storyboards (Sleeping At Last): Read my review

Twin Cities

Reasons (Red Pens): Low-fi rock that generated a ton of attention last year. Bodies of Water (Solid Gold): More electro-pop from a Twin Cities band with high expectations. I’m beginning to notice a trend in my listening.

2010 (So Far)

Contra (Vampire Weekend): The beach vacation we all need right now. Transference (Spoon): Another great album from Austin, TX. It sounds like Spoon. That’s enough.