A college friend of mine made a statement once that bears reflection here, in the context of theological discussion. I can't remember exactly what triggered it, but as I recall it's something he said that tells people sometimes. I didn't have a great response in the moment, but it's stuck with me as something that I disagree with, for reasons I don't think I could have articulated well at the time.
"Christ died for me. Isn't that enough?"
It's hard to know how to respond to such a statement. Its simplicity screams for acceptance. Who doesn't like a simple Gospel? But clearly...
No. At least not for an Arminian-turned-Catholic like myself. If Christ dying for someone is enough, that would force me to take the step from universal atonement ("Christ died for all") to universal salvation ("all will be saved"). Not doing that.
Now I'm being pedantic here. While that could be what he meant, I'm guessing that even if he does hold to limited atonement ("Christ died only for those who are saved"), he probably meant something more like:
"Christ died for me, and I have accepted Him as Lord and Savior. Isn't that enough?"
Again the statement screams for our simple acceptance. Down with meaningless scholasticism, down with pointless theological debates. Or at least, down with the notion that they really matter up against the simple Gospel of acceptance of Christ as Lord and Savior.
But that's not enough.
Because if we try to go with just that personal relationship, we get a desire for more. We desire to know more, to know the Truth--the whole Truth and nothing but it. To go beyond the simple truth of Christ's death for us, of our following Him, because to follow Him we have to know how. To know how we need someplace to start. The proof is simple and observable: Simply watch a new Christian as they grow in faith: they will read the Scriptures and seek the counsel of those more grown in the faith than they are. If their new-found relationship with Christ were enough, these things would be superfluous.
But still that little voice objects: "Isn't that still enough to survive, spiritually speaking?" Oh, sure, it might be enough in the sense that a lifeboat is enough to keep you from drowning, or that a piece of bread to keep you from starving. But what starving person would live alone on the spiritual bread of this simple Gospel, if they had before them the feast of the Scriptures, theology, and--if I may--the consecrated Host in the sacrament of Thanksgiving?
Enough for survival? Yes. But enough for thriving, except in the most extenuating circumstances? No, because God has provided more, and wants more for each and every one of us, desiring that we might be saved and come to the knowledge of the Truth.
Now I am not prepared, nor do I desire to attempt in this post, to build up the whole of Catholic theology starting from this point. But the mere simple Gospel many espouse is, quite frankly, more a starting point than something that can justly and simply be called "enough" for salvation as Christ fully intended it to be.
Showing posts with label systematics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label systematics. Show all posts
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Bible Tells Us
The following is a reflection I wrote in the beginning of 2008 for the Faith and Leadership House of 2008-2009. With the caveat that standard Catholic modifiers now apply to everything I endorse, I still endorse what I had to say pretty much wholeheartedly. Anyway I dug it up, read it, and thought it worth sharing as a piece of blog.The Bible Tells Us
The Bible, the Old Testament at any rate, tells us to stone people for all manner of offenses, including but not limited to sex outside the context of marriage. The Old Testament provides a few humanitarian measures on the matter, mostly attempts to account for rape, and the New doesn't seem to call for stoning on almost anything, but still: all these old laws. How do we decide which parts of the Law still apply, and in what way? (And this is not even thinking of which punishments should still apply?) If we choose one over the other, must we sacrifice the unity of Scripture to do so?
The Bible tells us to submit ourselves to the governing authorities. Does this command have any veto power over the others? What are we to do if we believe it is given to us in Scripture not to lie, and the governing authorities tell us to lie? For that matter, what if our parents tell us? Does that commandment have so much power that we should? Is this a situational thing? Common sense seems to say yes, to me, but common sense also tells me that dead people stay dead and virgins don't have babies. Christianity is not a common-sense religion.
The Bible tells us to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. But what if our rejoicing is their mourning, or vice versa? If both parties try and do the noble thing, they're still not following the command, because one is still mourning and the other is still rejoicing. So what is to be done? Do both parties alternate the mourning and rejoicing? If this situation even arises, does that mean one party has done something wrong?
It is not only a question of when the rubber hits the road, but what happens when the rubber hits the road. At what point do contradicting ethical orders, or even contradicting theologies--and I do believe they are in play in the Scriptures--overrule each other, and how do we decide which one gets priority if there is a conflict between two or more passages?
But wait! You might turn to me and ask whether the whole problem hasn't already been solved by Christ, the Incarnate Logos, Jesus of Nazareth, who boldly put forth a mere two commandments as the sum of the Law and the Prophets: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind and strength. Love your neighbor as yourself. And who is your neighbor? Not the common sense answer, not just that jerk who puts up a 10-foot fence between your property and his or the nice old lady who keeps bringing you copies of Watchtower magazine. No, your neighbor is every man and woman: friends, enemies, short, tall, black, white, you name it, and to that end it strikes as logical that all our interpretations of Scripture, perhaps most when we see a conflict between two passages, ought to be guided by two principles: love of God, and love of humanity.
Of course, we believe that at least to a degree the problem has been solved, even if we don't know the solution. Christ establishes a new covenant. It isn't necessarily the case that every six-hundred-odd laws are still in effect. But as evidenced by the wandering writings of Paul on just about anything where the word "law" is involved, the matter is not simple, and at any rate, Jesus of Nazareth never gave us a chart of which verses trumped which. Whether he could have is a topic for another day!
Even at our most theoretical and uninvolved as Christians (and may I say in particular as an amateur Christian theologian) we are forced to get our hands dirty. Inevitably, it seems the case that one piece of the Inspired Word of God trumps another. And perhaps that is part of the point. Christianity is not a clean religion. It is not common-sense. If even the biggest theologians of a faith must get their hands dirty to do their work, what does this say for the lesser? If we're not getting our hands, hearts, and minds dirty as Christians, it means we might have to reexamine whether we're really going for the gold.
Thankfully, because we believe in a New Covenant it is allowed to us to talk somewhat of these things being a mystery, of not having everything handed to us on a silver platter, but handed to us nonetheless, of the world's issues having been addressed to some degree at least, and Sin in some sense atoned for, even though we don't really know why or exactly how. But when we get into specifics about what to believe, what to do, and what the Bible tells us--and to decide what orthodoxy meant, thousands of early Christians already had to do this, and imagine doing it without a defined canon!--when we get into the question of what the Bible tells us, of what we ought to believe and do, we get our hands dirty. We do have one agreement among us, at least, as a house; this is that God dirtied a hand for us in a very personal way. I suggest that it is our job, an imperative as Christians, to get our hands dirty in turn: by figuring out what we ought to believe and do, and by believing and doing it.
But not necessarily in that order.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Dan Reads the Catechism: Paragraph 103 and the Kneeling Argument
I remember having a huge argument once in the Faith and Leadership House. Actually, the argument was between the house and one of our directors over whether we should kneel at Mass. It was a pretty infamous incident for us and one that (still) stretches me on whether we were truly submitted to authority in Catholic fashion.
The authority in question was a professor at the University who asked us why we knelt during or near the consecration at Mass, and while we weren't all this vehement about it, she and one of the more staunch Catholics in our house got into a fairly intense debate about it. At one point, when she mentioned Christ being present in the reading Scriptures (the implication being, so far as I took it, we should kneel then).
Now the counterargument offered, and if I recall correctly it was at the time, was that there was a qualitative difference in these presences. (The authority this person exercised, by the way, was that of an official faculty director of our program, and the extended question was whether the instructions to Catholics in our area indicated we should kneel at the consecration or not. My question as to authority was whether we ought to have obeyed her recommendation despite believing we were right; what would Jesus do?)
But paragraph 103 says "For this reason, the Church has always venerated the Scriptures as she venerates the Lord's Body. She never ceases to present to the faithful the bread of life, taken from the one table of God's Word and Christ's Body" (source).
Now intuitively, going on history, it seems like the Real Presence in the Eucharist is a qualitatively different presence from Christ's presence in the reading of the written Word of God . After all, I don't recall any Early Church Fathers ever saying that the letters of Paul were "the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins, and which the Father, of His goodness, raised up again" (source).
But paragraph 103 itself gives...little, if any, indication of such a difference. Perhaps some later paragraph (on the Eucharist, perhaps?) will clarify this for me. In the meantime I continue to be struck a tad confused by the lack of distinction drawn here. And it seems like the professor in question may have had, at the least, more intuition behind her thought than we wanted to grant at the time.
There's something about paragraph 82 that bugs me, too. I don't disagree with the paragraph. But it brought something to light that begs further investigation. More on that later.
The authority in question was a professor at the University who asked us why we knelt during or near the consecration at Mass, and while we weren't all this vehement about it, she and one of the more staunch Catholics in our house got into a fairly intense debate about it. At one point, when she mentioned Christ being present in the reading Scriptures (the implication being, so far as I took it, we should kneel then).
Now the counterargument offered, and if I recall correctly it was at the time, was that there was a qualitative difference in these presences. (The authority this person exercised, by the way, was that of an official faculty director of our program, and the extended question was whether the instructions to Catholics in our area indicated we should kneel at the consecration or not. My question as to authority was whether we ought to have obeyed her recommendation despite believing we were right; what would Jesus do?)
But paragraph 103 says "For this reason, the Church has always venerated the Scriptures as she venerates the Lord's Body. She never ceases to present to the faithful the bread of life, taken from the one table of God's Word and Christ's Body" (source).
Now intuitively, going on history, it seems like the Real Presence in the Eucharist is a qualitatively different presence from Christ's presence in the reading of the written Word of God . After all, I don't recall any Early Church Fathers ever saying that the letters of Paul were "the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins, and which the Father, of His goodness, raised up again" (source).
But paragraph 103 itself gives...little, if any, indication of such a difference. Perhaps some later paragraph (on the Eucharist, perhaps?) will clarify this for me. In the meantime I continue to be struck a tad confused by the lack of distinction drawn here. And it seems like the professor in question may have had, at the least, more intuition behind her thought than we wanted to grant at the time.
There's something about paragraph 82 that bugs me, too. I don't disagree with the paragraph. But it brought something to light that begs further investigation. More on that later.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Quiz question
What, for St. Thomas Aquinas, is the hidden reality signified by the Eucharist?
Answer forthcoming...
Answer forthcoming...
Monday, November 8, 2010
"You're Going to Hell"
Most Christians should meet somebody who will tell them: "You are going to hell."
I say most because I don't know if we're all strong enough to handle it, but I think it would be healthy if we got a taste of how it is to be on the other side of our own beliefs about the afterlife.
I have many friends who are atheists or agnostics of some kind from college, and all through college I held to pretty conservative views of salvation. Still do. Now they've been tempered for a long time by a more inclusivist strand of thought, and an emphasis on not judging anyone's individual salvation. Still, I can't imagine I never inadvertently insulted anyone simply by believing what I did, which boiled down to, qualifiers or no, all other things equal: You're going to hell.
Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that there are people who think I will spend my eternity in torment because I am a Christian. Oddly enough, though, the more memorable times I've actually gotten a full, realization kind of taste of it, have been on the Protestant-Catholic divide. The first time was back in high school when one of my Catholic friends made some comment (which did then, and still does, strike me as kind of theologically simplistic) that it would be necessary for salvation to believe that the Eucharist was really the Body and Blood of Christ.
And now that I am a Catholic, and I do believe all this nonsense about the Eucharist and Communions of Saints, etc., it's not even so much a moment, but merely having a friend who desperately tried to talk me out of it (actually, someone close to him did, but I don't think he disagreed), and whose church would seem to be teaching him--if it mentions the Papists at all--that my salvation is dubious. Now granted, that's just part of the divide that is a consequence of choosing communion with Rome. I should say that I am grateful and touched that he, and his friend, were loving enough and caring enough about my spiritual health, to say what was said. But it introduced a palpable divide that I can feel every time I see him, an awkwardness introduced into all those situations, that wasn't there before. And the phrase "you're going to hell" was never even used, or even necessarily implied. Just there, under the surface, a highly uncomfortable possibility for me in the theology of the other.
Now I always felt a little bit awkward if I knew I'd said anything directly to any of my non-religious friends about the afterlife. But I do wonder whether the way I feel around my friend now is the way they sometimes felt around me. It's a feeling of being on the other side, of knowing someone is seriously concerned about the state of your soul (in a way they wouldn't normally be, that is a healthy concern after all.)
And I wonder if maybe it's not a good healthy experience that most Christians should have, to go out and meet someone who makes them realize--not just know in some academic sense, that someone believes they are going to hell.
I say most because I don't know if we're all strong enough to handle it, but I think it would be healthy if we got a taste of how it is to be on the other side of our own beliefs about the afterlife.
I have many friends who are atheists or agnostics of some kind from college, and all through college I held to pretty conservative views of salvation. Still do. Now they've been tempered for a long time by a more inclusivist strand of thought, and an emphasis on not judging anyone's individual salvation. Still, I can't imagine I never inadvertently insulted anyone simply by believing what I did, which boiled down to, qualifiers or no, all other things equal: You're going to hell.
Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that there are people who think I will spend my eternity in torment because I am a Christian. Oddly enough, though, the more memorable times I've actually gotten a full, realization kind of taste of it, have been on the Protestant-Catholic divide. The first time was back in high school when one of my Catholic friends made some comment (which did then, and still does, strike me as kind of theologically simplistic) that it would be necessary for salvation to believe that the Eucharist was really the Body and Blood of Christ.
And now that I am a Catholic, and I do believe all this nonsense about the Eucharist and Communions of Saints, etc., it's not even so much a moment, but merely having a friend who desperately tried to talk me out of it (actually, someone close to him did, but I don't think he disagreed), and whose church would seem to be teaching him--if it mentions the Papists at all--that my salvation is dubious. Now granted, that's just part of the divide that is a consequence of choosing communion with Rome. I should say that I am grateful and touched that he, and his friend, were loving enough and caring enough about my spiritual health, to say what was said. But it introduced a palpable divide that I can feel every time I see him, an awkwardness introduced into all those situations, that wasn't there before. And the phrase "you're going to hell" was never even used, or even necessarily implied. Just there, under the surface, a highly uncomfortable possibility for me in the theology of the other.
Now I always felt a little bit awkward if I knew I'd said anything directly to any of my non-religious friends about the afterlife. But I do wonder whether the way I feel around my friend now is the way they sometimes felt around me. It's a feeling of being on the other side, of knowing someone is seriously concerned about the state of your soul (in a way they wouldn't normally be, that is a healthy concern after all.)
And I wonder if maybe it's not a good healthy experience that most Christians should have, to go out and meet someone who makes them realize--not just know in some academic sense, that someone believes they are going to hell.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
A Letter to My (Formerly) Fellow Protestants
A Letter to My (Formerly) Fellow Protestants,
This is something I am doing in service to the Truth. This is not something I would do to rebel, to make anyone angry, to incite controversy or for for any other stupid reason. (In fact, that was part of the reason I didn't convert two years ago, was to avoid doing so for stupid reasons.) I believe that the Roman Catholic Church is closer to God in that it is closer to Truth. I do not mean to say that I think Catholics are automatically closer to God on a personal level than Protestants; in fact I know many whose relationship with God, and virtue, hardly measure up to the median of the Protestants I have known. It is true that not all of my reasons for joining are purely logical. The chief reason that isn't purely reasoned, is that I feel more secure in the work of Christian evidences within a Catholic framework, than within a Protestant framework. And also, the first reason given here is perhaps mostly personal, but I believe it to be theological at least in part. The rest are mostly theological in nature, though of course like any theologian I have my own personal biases and preferences. This is summary, not argument.
1. Invisible unity in the church isn't enough for me anymore. The Catholic Church is the only church that's got the capability to take in and put in proper proportion the concerns and biases of all the others. As one example, it teaches both predestination and free-will, without falling into the traps of Calvinism or Pelagianism. There is room for pretty much every type of Christian in this Tradition, except for the Christians who want to be able to do as they please (and interpret Scripture as they please) regardless of what those in authority say. And even those Christians appear to be generally tolerated, so long as they're not really loud about how much they are defying authority. Mystical unity isn't enough for me anymore; I need more visible unity. And the more I see what happens when Protestants rejoin the Catholic Church, the more I believe that this is the way things will get better, and the world will see us Christians as unified in spirit and in truth.
A side-note here. One may ask the question whether the Catholic Church's visible unity means anything with the amount of heretics it does tolerate (which is quite a few, at least quite a few of the quieter ones.) This is an excellent question, and I can answer in the affirmative: It does matter. It might not look any more unified than Protestant Churches, but quite frankly it does have one thing they do not in its togetherness. In the umbrella of Protestantism there is, as in Catholicism, nothing to prevent a single church from calling itself Christian even if it preaches doctrine which is continually opposed to Scripture and to historical Christianity. But in Catholicism there is a single authority that can actually say that that church is wrong. You might be thinking that Protestantism has, or at least specific Protestant churches have, a similar authority. I do not share your belief; sola scriptura de-centralizes doctrine and the search for Truth on many matters.
2. Protestant approaches to the Scriptures strike me as untenable. The approaches to Scripture which can be classified as sola scriptura all leave one question scorching my tongue: What passages of Scripture tell us what books are to be included in the Scriptures? You might think that this is a small problem, but history suggests it is everything but. The Protestants, the Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox all hold different canons, and each of these camps in turn holds more books to be revealed Scripture than the one before it. The Canon itself as Catholics consider it was a couple hundred years in its most major developments, and a hundred or so more for the more minor adjustments. And several Christians throughout history have tossed out various books, or wanted to (most famously, Martin Luther wanting to exclude James and Revelation from the canon.)
It is, to my mind, not solid reasoning to simply assume we've got the right canon. In its weakest (and to my mind most solid) form, sola scriptura says that we must be able to find things in the Scriptures if they are to be called necessary for salvation. But what can be found in the Scriptures certainly depends on what books are included in the Scriptures, and so what's necessary for salvation winds up being dependent, ultimately, on a table of contents that is found nowhere in the actual sacred texts of the Christian tradition. Even if we could agree on the Canon, we could look around and find Christian churches in decent levels of disagreement about what was necessary for salvation. I don't know about you, but if I don't even know with some certainty what I have to be able to do to be able to consider myself saved, I'm in an interesting place. We might solve this problem by saying Jesus is the only essential, but I am skeptical of that very statement myself, at least in the way I have come to define the “essentials,” not to mention the fact that it immediately raises the question of what we mean by saying “Jesus.”
This is why I don't really think that we've got a systematic authority that allows us to say that, say, the Modalist Church down the road is actually in the wrong, no matter how much we'd like them to affirm that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are actually three distinct-but-not-separate persons: The Scriptures are wonderful. I love the Scriptures; with a little help, in fact, I can still recite the entire first chapter of James, and I've been studying them more seriously than ever before. But sola scriptura does not provide a solid centralizing authority for the Church.
The alternate possibility of prima scriptura (scripture as the 'check' for all doctrines) certainly appeals to me, some, but when we consider that prima scriptura can only screen out doctrines that actually run contrary to the Scriptures as being wrong, with the rest being (still) potentially essential, we wind up with a whole laundry list of things that, as historic Christians, we seem pretty much bound to believe, and yet most people who would get technical enough to even talk about the possibility of holding prima scriptura would deny them. On a practical level, whenever I start thinking along prima scriptura lines, I immediately start thinking about the early church, which immediately starts me down the road to Rome again. Which brings me to my next two points, both pretty well-related to historical doctrine:
3. The Roman Catholic Church affirms the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. This might seem like a strange thing to be attracted to. And to be honest, it makes me queasy. It makes me uncomfortable. But if we study the bread of life discourse in John chapter 6, or the discourse on the Lord's supper in 1 Corinthians 11, they raise questions. Why, for instance, does Jesus switch to even stronger language about people eating his flesh, when people express discomfort with the idea, if it's purely symbolic to begin with? This certainly doesn't prove that it is literal, but it certainly raises the question. And why does the penalty for taking Communion unworthily—at least as seen by Paul—seem to be so severe, if it is merely a symbolic gesture? That the Early Church seems to have believed in a real presence of Christ in the Eucharist is further solidified for me by St. Ignatius, who in the very early second century A.D. preached among other things that denial of the real presence was something done by Donatists, and couched his impending martyrdom in gory Eucharistic imagery. Is the doctrine of real presence gross? Absolutely disgusting. Quite uncomfortable. Is it the truth? It would seem so.
4. The Roman Catholic Church affirms the historically and council-vindicated titles/roles of the Virgin Mary. I'm going to confess here that no, I'm not totally clear on exactly what vindicates the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of Mary. But Theotokos and Perpetual Virginity have been around for, well, awhile. Theotokos (“God-bearer” or “Mother of God”) has been around since the Nestorian controversy, in which the Council of Ephesus made it a title of Mary as a matter of correct Christological thought. That's not Catholic bias, either; that's history, and a history that took place before the major council of Chalcedon, which clarified some Christological points and in at least one of its statements reaffirmed the phrasing of Theotokos. Perpetual virginity has apparently been around for quite a while. At least since the fifth century with some consensus, but even before. Tertullian opposed it, for what it's worth, but the bulk of historical Christianity seems to affirm it, over and against what strikes as the 'plain' interpretation of Jesus's brothers. So even though I'm not totally 100% feeling forced to believe the other Marian Dogmas right away, I'm willing to accept them on the basis that I'm already trusting of the others, and trust that reasoning will probably fall into place later.
5. Prayer to/through saints and to/through Mary is affirmed by the RCC. This might seem like a negative mark. What about 'one mediator between God and man'? But it is still pretty clear that the mediatorship of Christ is of a special and unique kind in Catholic theology; if it be the case that the RCC considers the Saints or Mary to be mediators, it considers them to be mediators not of the same level, if even of the same type at all. There is a general belief (repudiated nowhere that I know of in the Scriptures) that the dead in heaven can hear us, even in many Protestant circles. It certainly does have some basis in Scripture, most notably in Revelation where incense symbolizes the prayers of the saints. Asking them to pray for us (in my mind) doesn't really boil down to anything different from asking an especially holy person here on earth to pray for us. If we have the chance, why not? The reason I say to/through is because it is only proper to say we pray “to” saints in the sense of “I pray you, pray for me”: otherwise it might be best for clarity if we said we pray to God and through the saints.
And yes, it is true that veneration and devotion to both Mary and Saints can get out of hand. Yes, it can. So can veneration (though not so-called) of Rick Warren, N.T. Wright, Joel Osteen and numerous other figures still alive in today's Christian world. (I should not hesitate here to mention C.S. Lewis, Calvin and Luther, but they didn't fit the pattern of being still alive.) The point being, it might be more obvious but that doesn't really make it any more wrong, or any less avoidable. One of the big things about the RCC and ethics, is lots of things are about proportion. Veneration and honor is given to Mary and the Saints, but more honor must be given to God. Ultimately the Saints and the Blessed Virgin all point back to God. Praying 'to' saints is really just praying through them. We may say we pray 'to' them only if we mean we are actually asking them to pray for us; they are not to be treated as having any special ability in and of themselves, but only what they have by the grace of God. Prayer and devotion to saints seems a fairly worthy enterprise, and the semi-dogmatic opposition of at least certain Protestant groups to the practice appears largely unfounded in the Scriptures.
6. I am consistently wowed by the consistency of their ethic of life, sexuality and justice. This doesn't mean I'm always comfortable with it. Am I comfortable with the idea of (if I marry) abandoning artificial birth control? No. Do I think I really have a total handle on the difference between artificial birth control and the natural methods championed by the Church? No. Do I have an immediate and biblical justification for going beyond the direct text of the Scriptures, and asking “why” God may have permitted or forbidden certain things? No. I do believe there is definite historical vindication of the Catholic ethic of life, in that until very recently, most Churches stood together on the issue of birth control. I do believe that it speaks to something (more than many Protestants would like) that most of the early Church seems to have been pretty down on birth control, not as much as it was on abortion, but still. It seems to be more in continuity with the historical church, and (again) it does not contradict the Scriptures that I can see.
If you are currently wondering where the Song of Solomon has gone, rest assured, it's still there. And as soon as you find the famous proof-text for non-procreative sex contained therein, I'll happily take a look at it, but I'm willing to bet you won't. Even if you could find such a passage, it would prove the Catholic ethic wrong on proper sexual relations the exact same way that the passage in the Torah commanding a 'curse' (really a conditional abortion) on an unfaithful woman proves the Catholic (and conservative Protestant) ethic wrong on abortion. And by that, I mean not at all. Now I've found Catholic sexual ethics to be personally very helpful for ordering myself and seeking virtue in my definitively doomed attempt to offer myself as a living sacrifice and be transformed by the renewing of my mind. And I find it very professionally consistent. But it doesn't stop there. One section of the Catholic ethic quickly leads to another; sexual ethics tie with life ethics, which tie in turn with social justice ethics. Even if it were to eventually turn out to be a failure (I am confident it will not), the Catholic ethic, in its various statements, restatements, formulations and reformulations, is the best effort I have ever seen at truly achieving the ethical unity epitomized for believers in James 1:27, saying that “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: To look after orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
7. The primacy of Peter and Rome hasn't been rock-solid established for me (heh), but it's been established beyond most reasonable doubt. It's pretty clear by the marks of both staunch Catholic and conservative Protestant scholars that Peter was given some kind of primacy by Jesus. Additionally, the primacy of Rome was held by at least a few early Fathers, and the later Council of Chalcedon seems to imply it by making Constantinople second to Rome. Also, Rome had implicit veto power over at least one of the canons ratified in Africa near the turn of the fourth century to the fifth. Apostolic succession has been in development for awhile, but it seems a fairly solid doctrine. Not rock-solid yet, to me, but definitely there in essence if not totally obvious in presence.
8. I am pretty much sold as a matter of historical accuracy that the Canon of Scripture ratified by the early Church's African synods was the same canon that the RCC uses today. This includes the books Protestants would call “Apocryphal,” like Tobit and the Wisdom of Solomon. If you study the synods concerned, it seems that they did indeed ratify this Canon. It's commonly argued that it wasn't a dogmatic thing for Catholics until Trent in 15XX. However, this is as far as I know the earliest declaration by a synod, and it was replicated shortly after by another. Given this Canon, and even a prima scriptura standpoint, many objections previously held to Catholic doctrine (in particular, purgatory) begin to fall away. As a matter of intellectual honesty, does it bother me that this particular Canon wasn't ratified in the East as well as in Africa? Yes, a little bit. But that concern certainly doesn't push me back into Protestantism—the Canon which Eastern Orthodoxy eventually settled on has two or three more books than that of the RCC, in addition to those books that Protestants call Apocryphal.
9. God, in Catholic experience, is merciful, but also severe. Chesterton once said: “Those underrate Christianity who say that it discovered mercy; any one might discover mercy. In fact every one did. But to discover a plan for being merciful and also severe--that was to anticipate a strange need of human nature.” Chesterton was speaking, if I recall correctly, of a 'hate-the-sin, love-the-sinner' mentality, but his phrasing of merciful but severe, which in my mind is similar to being merciful yet perfectly just (even if the justice sometimes seems lenient, or the mercy seems harsh), seems a good marker on God as God is celebrated in Christianity. What I'm getting at mainly is (here I run the risk of getting into historical evidences) that the historical evidences I've seen put forth from the Catholic tradition seem to better embrace God as God of both the old, and new, testaments. I do not claim that it is a different God who works in the non-Catholic traditions, but there is something about the miracles that occur in Catholic contexts that points back to a Biblical unity. But the strange concoction called Catholicism also seems to contain the notion, somewhere in all of its Traditions and laws, that God is merciful and also severe. When was the last time you went to a Protestant church which, as a matter of weekly ritual, expected of its members a true confession of sinner-hood?
It is true that some of us need much more mercy than severity, and others much more severity than mercy (I often suspect I am of the second type), but Christian mercy must not be mere mercy, and Christian severity must not be mere severity.
10. Emotionalism and "reason"-ism are given proportional bounds. You are free to be emotional about faith so long as you do not pretend that emotion in devotion or worship, or "being drunk with the Spirit," is something absolutely necessary for saving faith. You are likewise free to be more "head-issue" centered about your faith so long as you do not pretend that emotion has no place in the life of a believer. Everyone is encouraged to cultivate devotional and rational aspects of their faith; nobody is permitted to ignore the validity of either approach as a primary means of experiencing the Divine. What is required is to seek God.
I have given my reasoning here. You are of course free to agree or disagree. I am attempting to be honest about what I know, and what I don't. There's a lot I still don't know, this is true. I'm still not sure where exactly Purgatory comes from, for instance. But what I've learned takes me away from where I started (the Free Methodist tradition, to which I am in great spiritual debt), and leaves me wandering. Eventually I come to the gates of the Roman Catholic Church, a humongous building the defies me to enter. I can almost hear the Crucifix mocking me, perhaps it is really the darker forces approximate to me, when I attend Masses: “Why don't you just leave? You've been thinking about this forever, and you're still just, here, standing in the gate-way, afraid to enter.” And the only answer I can really give, when I think about my desire for Truth, and the alternatives for finding it (putting it on shaky foundations, or just giving up the search entirely), is “Lord, to where else shall I go?”
And I assure you before God that I am not lying when I say this: My first allegiance is to my Lord Jesus, not just my Lord, but your Lord as well—Our Lord, if you will. This is an allegiance that I have discovered—painfully, in wrestling with it, at times even in trying to break it—an allegiance I am not free to disobey, a loyalty that I must respect. Free will notwithstanding, it is almost as if I no longer have a choice in the matter. My second allegiance is to Our Lord's Pilgrim Church on Earth. This does not mean that the work that has been done in me in Protestant contexts was bad—but it means I have come to believe that this work will be brought to a fuller completeness in the context of the Roman Catholic Church. Yes, this Church makes a claim to be the One True Church, but it does not declare that persons outside of it are untrue Christians. And I do not find myself compelled to no longer consider you Christians. Far from it! I will continue to pray for you and ask you to pray for me. I will continue to consider your counsel on spiritual matters. I will continue to hold massive respect for the Protestant subculture, especially those few and far between good Christian rock bands. I will continue to hold massive respect for Protestant theologians who serve the Lord well, which are a good deal greater in number than some staunch Catholics will want to admit. I will continue to love and obey my parents (and elders) in the Lord, and to be ever grateful for their raising me in the Lord. I will continue to be grateful to all of my family members who have faithfully done the same. I will continue to have massive respect for the Protestant pastors I have had in my life (shout-outs to Gene G., Joe W., Scott P., Mark M., Dave W., Matt P!) and my Protestant brethren who I know from New Vision Fellowship and other places, especially Chris C., the Palmers (and Shawn's awesome wife Alicia), Brent and Pam J., Billy A., Travis E., the Stevens family, Andy B., Colin C. and Chris B., Eben A., Dr. Will Deming, and Austin S. I will continue to read Protestant authors of all kinds, and seek the Truth wherever in their writings it be found—at the time of this writing, I'm still in the midst of C.S. Lewis's lovely The Four Loves. I will continue to read the Scriptures just as I used to (or, alternatively, will continue to fail at reading them just as I used to.) A part of my heart and mind will always feel and think distinctly Protestant about things even once I've 'crossed the Tiber,' as some call it, but this only strengthens point number one. I will continue to consider you brothers and sisters in Christ, whether you be my blood-relatives, or not. I will definitely be able to worship with you. On occasion I will even be able to come to Church with you. If you're further curious about why I've made this choice, you may feel free to ask further. This is the Truth I have found. And if you want to, I would be happy to discuss it with you.
In Faith, Love and Christ,
Dan “D.Lo” Lower
This is something I am doing in service to the Truth. This is not something I would do to rebel, to make anyone angry, to incite controversy or for for any other stupid reason. (In fact, that was part of the reason I didn't convert two years ago, was to avoid doing so for stupid reasons.) I believe that the Roman Catholic Church is closer to God in that it is closer to Truth. I do not mean to say that I think Catholics are automatically closer to God on a personal level than Protestants; in fact I know many whose relationship with God, and virtue, hardly measure up to the median of the Protestants I have known. It is true that not all of my reasons for joining are purely logical. The chief reason that isn't purely reasoned, is that I feel more secure in the work of Christian evidences within a Catholic framework, than within a Protestant framework. And also, the first reason given here is perhaps mostly personal, but I believe it to be theological at least in part. The rest are mostly theological in nature, though of course like any theologian I have my own personal biases and preferences. This is summary, not argument.
1. Invisible unity in the church isn't enough for me anymore. The Catholic Church is the only church that's got the capability to take in and put in proper proportion the concerns and biases of all the others. As one example, it teaches both predestination and free-will, without falling into the traps of Calvinism or Pelagianism. There is room for pretty much every type of Christian in this Tradition, except for the Christians who want to be able to do as they please (and interpret Scripture as they please) regardless of what those in authority say. And even those Christians appear to be generally tolerated, so long as they're not really loud about how much they are defying authority. Mystical unity isn't enough for me anymore; I need more visible unity. And the more I see what happens when Protestants rejoin the Catholic Church, the more I believe that this is the way things will get better, and the world will see us Christians as unified in spirit and in truth.
A side-note here. One may ask the question whether the Catholic Church's visible unity means anything with the amount of heretics it does tolerate (which is quite a few, at least quite a few of the quieter ones.) This is an excellent question, and I can answer in the affirmative: It does matter. It might not look any more unified than Protestant Churches, but quite frankly it does have one thing they do not in its togetherness. In the umbrella of Protestantism there is, as in Catholicism, nothing to prevent a single church from calling itself Christian even if it preaches doctrine which is continually opposed to Scripture and to historical Christianity. But in Catholicism there is a single authority that can actually say that that church is wrong. You might be thinking that Protestantism has, or at least specific Protestant churches have, a similar authority. I do not share your belief; sola scriptura de-centralizes doctrine and the search for Truth on many matters.
2. Protestant approaches to the Scriptures strike me as untenable. The approaches to Scripture which can be classified as sola scriptura all leave one question scorching my tongue: What passages of Scripture tell us what books are to be included in the Scriptures? You might think that this is a small problem, but history suggests it is everything but. The Protestants, the Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox all hold different canons, and each of these camps in turn holds more books to be revealed Scripture than the one before it. The Canon itself as Catholics consider it was a couple hundred years in its most major developments, and a hundred or so more for the more minor adjustments. And several Christians throughout history have tossed out various books, or wanted to (most famously, Martin Luther wanting to exclude James and Revelation from the canon.)
It is, to my mind, not solid reasoning to simply assume we've got the right canon. In its weakest (and to my mind most solid) form, sola scriptura says that we must be able to find things in the Scriptures if they are to be called necessary for salvation. But what can be found in the Scriptures certainly depends on what books are included in the Scriptures, and so what's necessary for salvation winds up being dependent, ultimately, on a table of contents that is found nowhere in the actual sacred texts of the Christian tradition. Even if we could agree on the Canon, we could look around and find Christian churches in decent levels of disagreement about what was necessary for salvation. I don't know about you, but if I don't even know with some certainty what I have to be able to do to be able to consider myself saved, I'm in an interesting place. We might solve this problem by saying Jesus is the only essential, but I am skeptical of that very statement myself, at least in the way I have come to define the “essentials,” not to mention the fact that it immediately raises the question of what we mean by saying “Jesus.”
This is why I don't really think that we've got a systematic authority that allows us to say that, say, the Modalist Church down the road is actually in the wrong, no matter how much we'd like them to affirm that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are actually three distinct-but-not-separate persons: The Scriptures are wonderful. I love the Scriptures; with a little help, in fact, I can still recite the entire first chapter of James, and I've been studying them more seriously than ever before. But sola scriptura does not provide a solid centralizing authority for the Church.
The alternate possibility of prima scriptura (scripture as the 'check' for all doctrines) certainly appeals to me, some, but when we consider that prima scriptura can only screen out doctrines that actually run contrary to the Scriptures as being wrong, with the rest being (still) potentially essential, we wind up with a whole laundry list of things that, as historic Christians, we seem pretty much bound to believe, and yet most people who would get technical enough to even talk about the possibility of holding prima scriptura would deny them. On a practical level, whenever I start thinking along prima scriptura lines, I immediately start thinking about the early church, which immediately starts me down the road to Rome again. Which brings me to my next two points, both pretty well-related to historical doctrine:
3. The Roman Catholic Church affirms the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. This might seem like a strange thing to be attracted to. And to be honest, it makes me queasy. It makes me uncomfortable. But if we study the bread of life discourse in John chapter 6, or the discourse on the Lord's supper in 1 Corinthians 11, they raise questions. Why, for instance, does Jesus switch to even stronger language about people eating his flesh, when people express discomfort with the idea, if it's purely symbolic to begin with? This certainly doesn't prove that it is literal, but it certainly raises the question. And why does the penalty for taking Communion unworthily—at least as seen by Paul—seem to be so severe, if it is merely a symbolic gesture? That the Early Church seems to have believed in a real presence of Christ in the Eucharist is further solidified for me by St. Ignatius, who in the very early second century A.D. preached among other things that denial of the real presence was something done by Donatists, and couched his impending martyrdom in gory Eucharistic imagery. Is the doctrine of real presence gross? Absolutely disgusting. Quite uncomfortable. Is it the truth? It would seem so.
4. The Roman Catholic Church affirms the historically and council-vindicated titles/roles of the Virgin Mary. I'm going to confess here that no, I'm not totally clear on exactly what vindicates the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of Mary. But Theotokos and Perpetual Virginity have been around for, well, awhile. Theotokos (“God-bearer” or “Mother of God”) has been around since the Nestorian controversy, in which the Council of Ephesus made it a title of Mary as a matter of correct Christological thought. That's not Catholic bias, either; that's history, and a history that took place before the major council of Chalcedon, which clarified some Christological points and in at least one of its statements reaffirmed the phrasing of Theotokos. Perpetual virginity has apparently been around for quite a while. At least since the fifth century with some consensus, but even before. Tertullian opposed it, for what it's worth, but the bulk of historical Christianity seems to affirm it, over and against what strikes as the 'plain' interpretation of Jesus's brothers. So even though I'm not totally 100% feeling forced to believe the other Marian Dogmas right away, I'm willing to accept them on the basis that I'm already trusting of the others, and trust that reasoning will probably fall into place later.
5. Prayer to/through saints and to/through Mary is affirmed by the RCC. This might seem like a negative mark. What about 'one mediator between God and man'? But it is still pretty clear that the mediatorship of Christ is of a special and unique kind in Catholic theology; if it be the case that the RCC considers the Saints or Mary to be mediators, it considers them to be mediators not of the same level, if even of the same type at all. There is a general belief (repudiated nowhere that I know of in the Scriptures) that the dead in heaven can hear us, even in many Protestant circles. It certainly does have some basis in Scripture, most notably in Revelation where incense symbolizes the prayers of the saints. Asking them to pray for us (in my mind) doesn't really boil down to anything different from asking an especially holy person here on earth to pray for us. If we have the chance, why not? The reason I say to/through is because it is only proper to say we pray “to” saints in the sense of “I pray you, pray for me”: otherwise it might be best for clarity if we said we pray to God and through the saints.
And yes, it is true that veneration and devotion to both Mary and Saints can get out of hand. Yes, it can. So can veneration (though not so-called) of Rick Warren, N.T. Wright, Joel Osteen and numerous other figures still alive in today's Christian world. (I should not hesitate here to mention C.S. Lewis, Calvin and Luther, but they didn't fit the pattern of being still alive.) The point being, it might be more obvious but that doesn't really make it any more wrong, or any less avoidable. One of the big things about the RCC and ethics, is lots of things are about proportion. Veneration and honor is given to Mary and the Saints, but more honor must be given to God. Ultimately the Saints and the Blessed Virgin all point back to God. Praying 'to' saints is really just praying through them. We may say we pray 'to' them only if we mean we are actually asking them to pray for us; they are not to be treated as having any special ability in and of themselves, but only what they have by the grace of God. Prayer and devotion to saints seems a fairly worthy enterprise, and the semi-dogmatic opposition of at least certain Protestant groups to the practice appears largely unfounded in the Scriptures.
6. I am consistently wowed by the consistency of their ethic of life, sexuality and justice. This doesn't mean I'm always comfortable with it. Am I comfortable with the idea of (if I marry) abandoning artificial birth control? No. Do I think I really have a total handle on the difference between artificial birth control and the natural methods championed by the Church? No. Do I have an immediate and biblical justification for going beyond the direct text of the Scriptures, and asking “why” God may have permitted or forbidden certain things? No. I do believe there is definite historical vindication of the Catholic ethic of life, in that until very recently, most Churches stood together on the issue of birth control. I do believe that it speaks to something (more than many Protestants would like) that most of the early Church seems to have been pretty down on birth control, not as much as it was on abortion, but still. It seems to be more in continuity with the historical church, and (again) it does not contradict the Scriptures that I can see.
If you are currently wondering where the Song of Solomon has gone, rest assured, it's still there. And as soon as you find the famous proof-text for non-procreative sex contained therein, I'll happily take a look at it, but I'm willing to bet you won't. Even if you could find such a passage, it would prove the Catholic ethic wrong on proper sexual relations the exact same way that the passage in the Torah commanding a 'curse' (really a conditional abortion) on an unfaithful woman proves the Catholic (and conservative Protestant) ethic wrong on abortion. And by that, I mean not at all. Now I've found Catholic sexual ethics to be personally very helpful for ordering myself and seeking virtue in my definitively doomed attempt to offer myself as a living sacrifice and be transformed by the renewing of my mind. And I find it very professionally consistent. But it doesn't stop there. One section of the Catholic ethic quickly leads to another; sexual ethics tie with life ethics, which tie in turn with social justice ethics. Even if it were to eventually turn out to be a failure (I am confident it will not), the Catholic ethic, in its various statements, restatements, formulations and reformulations, is the best effort I have ever seen at truly achieving the ethical unity epitomized for believers in James 1:27, saying that “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: To look after orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
7. The primacy of Peter and Rome hasn't been rock-solid established for me (heh), but it's been established beyond most reasonable doubt. It's pretty clear by the marks of both staunch Catholic and conservative Protestant scholars that Peter was given some kind of primacy by Jesus. Additionally, the primacy of Rome was held by at least a few early Fathers, and the later Council of Chalcedon seems to imply it by making Constantinople second to Rome. Also, Rome had implicit veto power over at least one of the canons ratified in Africa near the turn of the fourth century to the fifth. Apostolic succession has been in development for awhile, but it seems a fairly solid doctrine. Not rock-solid yet, to me, but definitely there in essence if not totally obvious in presence.
8. I am pretty much sold as a matter of historical accuracy that the Canon of Scripture ratified by the early Church's African synods was the same canon that the RCC uses today. This includes the books Protestants would call “Apocryphal,” like Tobit and the Wisdom of Solomon. If you study the synods concerned, it seems that they did indeed ratify this Canon. It's commonly argued that it wasn't a dogmatic thing for Catholics until Trent in 15XX. However, this is as far as I know the earliest declaration by a synod, and it was replicated shortly after by another. Given this Canon, and even a prima scriptura standpoint, many objections previously held to Catholic doctrine (in particular, purgatory) begin to fall away. As a matter of intellectual honesty, does it bother me that this particular Canon wasn't ratified in the East as well as in Africa? Yes, a little bit. But that concern certainly doesn't push me back into Protestantism—the Canon which Eastern Orthodoxy eventually settled on has two or three more books than that of the RCC, in addition to those books that Protestants call Apocryphal.
9. God, in Catholic experience, is merciful, but also severe. Chesterton once said: “Those underrate Christianity who say that it discovered mercy; any one might discover mercy. In fact every one did. But to discover a plan for being merciful and also severe--that was to anticipate a strange need of human nature.” Chesterton was speaking, if I recall correctly, of a 'hate-the-sin, love-the-sinner' mentality, but his phrasing of merciful but severe, which in my mind is similar to being merciful yet perfectly just (even if the justice sometimes seems lenient, or the mercy seems harsh), seems a good marker on God as God is celebrated in Christianity. What I'm getting at mainly is (here I run the risk of getting into historical evidences) that the historical evidences I've seen put forth from the Catholic tradition seem to better embrace God as God of both the old, and new, testaments. I do not claim that it is a different God who works in the non-Catholic traditions, but there is something about the miracles that occur in Catholic contexts that points back to a Biblical unity. But the strange concoction called Catholicism also seems to contain the notion, somewhere in all of its Traditions and laws, that God is merciful and also severe. When was the last time you went to a Protestant church which, as a matter of weekly ritual, expected of its members a true confession of sinner-hood?
It is true that some of us need much more mercy than severity, and others much more severity than mercy (I often suspect I am of the second type), but Christian mercy must not be mere mercy, and Christian severity must not be mere severity.
10. Emotionalism and "reason"-ism are given proportional bounds. You are free to be emotional about faith so long as you do not pretend that emotion in devotion or worship, or "being drunk with the Spirit," is something absolutely necessary for saving faith. You are likewise free to be more "head-issue" centered about your faith so long as you do not pretend that emotion has no place in the life of a believer. Everyone is encouraged to cultivate devotional and rational aspects of their faith; nobody is permitted to ignore the validity of either approach as a primary means of experiencing the Divine. What is required is to seek God.
I have given my reasoning here. You are of course free to agree or disagree. I am attempting to be honest about what I know, and what I don't. There's a lot I still don't know, this is true. I'm still not sure where exactly Purgatory comes from, for instance. But what I've learned takes me away from where I started (the Free Methodist tradition, to which I am in great spiritual debt), and leaves me wandering. Eventually I come to the gates of the Roman Catholic Church, a humongous building the defies me to enter. I can almost hear the Crucifix mocking me, perhaps it is really the darker forces approximate to me, when I attend Masses: “Why don't you just leave? You've been thinking about this forever, and you're still just, here, standing in the gate-way, afraid to enter.” And the only answer I can really give, when I think about my desire for Truth, and the alternatives for finding it (putting it on shaky foundations, or just giving up the search entirely), is “Lord, to where else shall I go?”
And I assure you before God that I am not lying when I say this: My first allegiance is to my Lord Jesus, not just my Lord, but your Lord as well—Our Lord, if you will. This is an allegiance that I have discovered—painfully, in wrestling with it, at times even in trying to break it—an allegiance I am not free to disobey, a loyalty that I must respect. Free will notwithstanding, it is almost as if I no longer have a choice in the matter. My second allegiance is to Our Lord's Pilgrim Church on Earth. This does not mean that the work that has been done in me in Protestant contexts was bad—but it means I have come to believe that this work will be brought to a fuller completeness in the context of the Roman Catholic Church. Yes, this Church makes a claim to be the One True Church, but it does not declare that persons outside of it are untrue Christians. And I do not find myself compelled to no longer consider you Christians. Far from it! I will continue to pray for you and ask you to pray for me. I will continue to consider your counsel on spiritual matters. I will continue to hold massive respect for the Protestant subculture, especially those few and far between good Christian rock bands. I will continue to hold massive respect for Protestant theologians who serve the Lord well, which are a good deal greater in number than some staunch Catholics will want to admit. I will continue to love and obey my parents (and elders) in the Lord, and to be ever grateful for their raising me in the Lord. I will continue to be grateful to all of my family members who have faithfully done the same. I will continue to have massive respect for the Protestant pastors I have had in my life (shout-outs to Gene G., Joe W., Scott P., Mark M., Dave W., Matt P!) and my Protestant brethren who I know from New Vision Fellowship and other places, especially Chris C., the Palmers (and Shawn's awesome wife Alicia), Brent and Pam J., Billy A., Travis E., the Stevens family, Andy B., Colin C. and Chris B., Eben A., Dr. Will Deming, and Austin S. I will continue to read Protestant authors of all kinds, and seek the Truth wherever in their writings it be found—at the time of this writing, I'm still in the midst of C.S. Lewis's lovely The Four Loves. I will continue to read the Scriptures just as I used to (or, alternatively, will continue to fail at reading them just as I used to.) A part of my heart and mind will always feel and think distinctly Protestant about things even once I've 'crossed the Tiber,' as some call it, but this only strengthens point number one. I will continue to consider you brothers and sisters in Christ, whether you be my blood-relatives, or not. I will definitely be able to worship with you. On occasion I will even be able to come to Church with you. If you're further curious about why I've made this choice, you may feel free to ask further. This is the Truth I have found. And if you want to, I would be happy to discuss it with you.
In Faith, Love and Christ,
Dan “D.Lo” Lower
Friday, January 22, 2010
Week of Christian Unity: Day 4, Katie Stevens
Yo. It's actually Day 5, but I got lazy, so you're getting Day 4 today, and Day 5 and 6 by the end of tomorrow (still deciding whether I'm doing Day 5 today.) Today comes this reflection from Katie Stevens, which focuses on a unity in Christ and unity of way of being, despite differences in modes of worship / relation to the culture. Preview-quotation from Katie:
"They’re so focused on finding what they think is the point and converting their friends that they ignore the source that they and their peers have in common- THE LIGHT. They forget where they do converge, that they are peers- parallel, not opposite."
Friday, December 4, 2009
Scripture, Morality, and Definition
This is a partial response to my friend Matthew on some questions he posted on the post on divorce and remarriage. The questions ran the gamut and the second half of them focus more on cultural context of then vs. now, so I split the responses into two posts.
Does all the reality of morality have to be defined in terms of scripture?
I believe that the Christian worldview is, ultimately, that the 'biblical vision' (to steal, and probably misuse, a phrase from Dr. Dempsey) for morality is the one that must be kept in mind when we are constructing our ethical systems. So, things like the general structure of the Christian ethic as a code that includes many 'do not' and 'do' statements, which is (when love is perfected) properly absorbed in Love of God and Love of neighbor, need to be kept in mind when constructing ethical systems as Christians. In that sense I would say yes. But does this mean we have to be able to point to a Scripture passage for everything we expressly permit or forbid? Of course not; there are too many things in this modern culture that aren't even mentioned in the Scripture, a good many of which ought to be encouraged, and not a few of which ought to be expressly forbidden.
It seems to me that the concepts in discussion are working from a time and place with a simpler understanding of the world. I don't know of Church slash churches responses to this dilemma.
I don't really think it's a dilemma. I think it's an issue of determining what was said in context of that culture, and determining how the message translates for us today.
All I can say is that some things weren't in discussion at the time.
Right.
peripheral question: What flows out from your understanding of Jesus and his teachings that might illuminate an answer unspecified had the question been proposed?
My basic supposition here is that the Early Church's memory of Jesus, most solidified in the Gospels, is not on any point going to seriously misrepresent him. This means it won't misrepresent his life (e.g., it won't say He performed miracles if he didn't) or what He said (e.g. it won't seriously distort his moral teachings, even if certain Gospels emphasize different teachings or sayings for the sake of their audience.)
Are we talking at mixed purposes to the text? As can be seen from Paul's discussions of marriage and the "better not to marry" exposition, the concept of marriage in Classical Levant was quite different from our own. Perhaps, a modern interpretation of marriage transcends the business venture/procreation model established at the time of Christ. In which case the whole moral structure needs to be reevaluated from a new point of view. I'm not suggesting anything post-Biblical... Far from it!... I'm suggesting that Scripture may only be addressing explicitly the issues and concepts then-contemporary. Scripture does however provide many backbones for moral development by extension from the text.
I definitely agree that as definitions change from the culture the Scripture was written for to the culture we have today, we may have to re-evaluate how things apply. However, in my mind, this is dependent on whether the definitions we've been given for things in our current culture are even compatible with a historical and biblical Christian morality.
Does all the reality of morality have to be defined in terms of scripture?
I believe that the Christian worldview is, ultimately, that the 'biblical vision' (to steal, and probably misuse, a phrase from Dr. Dempsey) for morality is the one that must be kept in mind when we are constructing our ethical systems. So, things like the general structure of the Christian ethic as a code that includes many 'do not' and 'do' statements, which is (when love is perfected) properly absorbed in Love of God and Love of neighbor, need to be kept in mind when constructing ethical systems as Christians. In that sense I would say yes. But does this mean we have to be able to point to a Scripture passage for everything we expressly permit or forbid? Of course not; there are too many things in this modern culture that aren't even mentioned in the Scripture, a good many of which ought to be encouraged, and not a few of which ought to be expressly forbidden.
It seems to me that the concepts in discussion are working from a time and place with a simpler understanding of the world. I don't know of Church slash churches responses to this dilemma.
I don't really think it's a dilemma. I think it's an issue of determining what was said in context of that culture, and determining how the message translates for us today.
All I can say is that some things weren't in discussion at the time.
Right.
peripheral question: What flows out from your understanding of Jesus and his teachings that might illuminate an answer unspecified had the question been proposed?
My basic supposition here is that the Early Church's memory of Jesus, most solidified in the Gospels, is not on any point going to seriously misrepresent him. This means it won't misrepresent his life (e.g., it won't say He performed miracles if he didn't) or what He said (e.g. it won't seriously distort his moral teachings, even if certain Gospels emphasize different teachings or sayings for the sake of their audience.)
Are we talking at mixed purposes to the text? As can be seen from Paul's discussions of marriage and the "better not to marry" exposition, the concept of marriage in Classical Levant was quite different from our own. Perhaps, a modern interpretation of marriage transcends the business venture/procreation model established at the time of Christ. In which case the whole moral structure needs to be reevaluated from a new point of view. I'm not suggesting anything post-Biblical... Far from it!... I'm suggesting that Scripture may only be addressing explicitly the issues and concepts then-contemporary. Scripture does however provide many backbones for moral development by extension from the text.
I definitely agree that as definitions change from the culture the Scripture was written for to the culture we have today, we may have to re-evaluate how things apply. However, in my mind, this is dependent on whether the definitions we've been given for things in our current culture are even compatible with a historical and biblical Christian morality.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Liberation Theology: An Old Paper
Opening Comment: I decided to post one of my old papers here. I still agree with most of what is said. If I were to re-write this paper I would probably acknowledge more fully that I take the side of atonement theology, as a matter of orthodoxy (stripping Christian soteriology of the notion of atonement cannot, to my mind, be done), and that I believe liberation theology to be fundamentally more flawed than traditional atonement theology, particularly as regards the meaning of the Cross. While it is true that traditional atonement theory sometimes promotes the life of the world to come in such a way that denies the possibility of bringing any of that life into the world we have now, it is also true that liberation theology--in a much more dangerous fashion--continually runs the risk of turning the Crucifixion/Resurrection from something with a tangible and real ontological effect on the world, to something that serves more as a symbol of Jesus' solidarity with the oppressed. In other words, I believe that liberation theology runs the risk of marginalizing the Resurrection and treating it as more a symbol. The danger in my mind runs from there, to the fear that the Resurrection will go from being believed as having been a symbol from God, to being not believed as having been anything historical at all; at that point whatever the Resurrection actually did for us as people (which I believe to be quite a lot) must be tossed away as well. But I should note that in saying all of this, I do not at all discount what I think to be the central Truth of liberation theology: The Kingdom is coming, not only in the future but also in the present, and this means change, especially for the petty small-k kingdoms we've got set up now. It is a Truth that traditional atonement theology runs the risk of forgetting, and while it is not as essential as Resurrection, it is vital for our witness to the world as Christians. My many thanks to the theology professor for whom I wrote this back in 2007; she really got me thinking about the issues and has been a major influence on my theological mind.
Liberation
In Christianity the life, death and resurrection of Christ are treated as central to the faith, but even within the bounds of orthodoxy as laid down by the councils there is much room for interpretation as to what, exactly, the Christ-event means for us today. In Christologies that are more traditional, often the same ones called “descending” Christologies, the emphasis in the Christ-event is placed on the notion of atonement, that our sins are in some mysterious way placated by God in Christ. In this sort of Christology atonement for personal sin is usually the predominant understanding of the Crucifixion. In many “ascending” Christologies the emphasis is still on atonement; however in a more recent strain of ascending Christologies, that of liberation theology, the emphasis is more on Christ’s solidarity with the poor and the understanding of the Crucifixion changes at least inasmuch as it includes an understanding that Jesus dies in his solidarity with the poor.
This essay will first examine the archetypal interpretation of the life, death and resurrection of Christ from the perspective of liberation theology and then discuss what these understandings can contribute to more atonement-based Christologies. I do not believe every aspect of liberation theology and atonement theology to be compatible. I maintain that the understanding of the life of Jesus, of the Cross, and of Resurrection in liberation theology has something to contribute to more traditional or Anselmian understandings of the Christ-event. The essay will conclude with remarks on how these contributions shape our understanding of what it means to live as a Christian in the world.
One major notion in liberation theology is that the mission and identity of Jesus is very much tied respectively with the critique of social structures and with the poor. Jesus’ identification with the poor. Edward Schillebeeckx makes note of the fact that in the New Testament accounts of Jesus’ life we find the theme that Jesus is in fact a prophet; not merely a prophet, but still a prophet in the tradition of Moses (Schillebeeckx Reader 166). The prophets of the Jewish tradition are known for speaking out against all the sins of the people, most notably their infidelity towards God and their poor treatment of the weakest among them (see Juan Luis Segundo 78-79. Jesus is connected to a prophetic tradition that is critical (in the sense of critique, not the sense of negativity) of the social structures that surround it. In his synopsis of the life of Jesus, James Cone discusses how from the beginning—even from his birth—his messiahship is tied in with his identification with the poor and oppressed (Cone 114-15). Jesus’ refusal of Satan’s temptation in the desert signifies “his refusal to identify himself with any of the available modes of oppressive or self-glorifying power” (Cone 115). According to him, the Markan saying “the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe the Gospel” (Mark 1.14-15, qtd. in Cone) speaks to the powers that be in the world, telling them that the kingdom of God is coming and that their reign is over, and Cone maintains that this has implications for all those in power, even implications for what it means if they even are rich (Cone, 116-17).
Chung Hyun Kyung, also, speaks of Jesus’ ministry to the oppressed, particularly Asian women. She sees the image of Jesus as the “suffering servant” as a double-edged sword; while on the one hand Jesus’ suffering can be misinterpreted with the message of blind obedience to authority, on the other hand Jesus is there and can be thought of as in identity with Asian women in his suffering (Kyung 56-57). Jon Sobrino looks at the mission of Jesus as “the proclamation and inauguration of the Reign of God in behalf of the poor and outcast” (Sobrino 453) and talks about how Jesus’ attitude towards sin includes a command to those with power and money to reconcile themselves to the Reign of God and avoid oppression of others (Sobrino 454). For Sobrino, then, the mission of Jesus on earth has significant implications for all social structures that it touches. It is clear that liberation theology ties Jesus’ life and mission to his identification with the poor and oppressed, the notion that his mission includes at the very least a component of speaking truth to power. Indeed, it is often the case that in liberation theology Jesus’ primary or more direct mission is considered to be liberation of humanity from oppressive social structures.
The meaning of Jesus’ death on the Cross and his resurrection from death, in liberation theology, is similarly tied with his identification with and mission to the poor. Segundo writes that Jesus’ fate is, in the New Testament Gospel tradition, connected to the treatment of prophets like Elijah and Jeremiah, and that those prophets’ teachings and revelations from God were in their own context intertwined with political matters (Segundo 79). Segundo speaks of the fact that the official cause of Jesus’ death on the cross was his status as a political agitator and notes that the conspiracies against him by the Pharisees and other political powers in the Gospels are motivated primarily by his ‘agitation’ of their social structure (Segundo 74,76-77). Choi Man Ja, responding to concerns echoed by Kyung about the potential for misuse of suffering, syas that “Jesus endures the yoke of the cross against the evil powers of this patriarchal world. This obedience is different from simple submission” (Man Ja, qtd. in Kyung 57). For Cone the death of Jesus on the Cross is, along with his resurrection, “the consummation of his earthly ministry with the poor” (Cone 117). In dying on the Cross, Jesus puts himself in solidarity with the poor and “[takes] upon himself the totality of human oppression” (Cone 119). The resurrection indicates that oppression and social sin cannot defeat God but rather that God conquers it and transforms it (Cone 118). The resurrection means that death no longer “has the last word,” and so the oppressed are able to live free from the threats of the earthly powers that be (Cone 118). The resurrection in liberation theology says that oppressive systems cannot keep Jesus down—they can try, but Jesus, and by association those oppressed by the system, will rise up again to press for liberation. The emphasis is not on the atoning aspect of the death and resurrection of Christ but rather on the identification of Jesus with the poor, even on pain of death, and the hope contained in the resurrection for liberation from bad earthly systems.
What does this mean for a more “traditional” or atonement-based theology? The atonement theory of theology places high emphasis on personal sin and salvation and a lesser emphasis (sometimes none at all) on the implications of Christ’s coming for the social structures of the world. And liberation theology places a higher emphasis on liberation from social sins than on those sins often considered more personal. In each camp of theology there is often a tendency toward reduction of Jesus’ mission and message to the personal-atonement or social-liberation route, and it is true that there is some tension between the two. However, as Lisa Sowle Cahill notes, “[p]erhaps the reason Christianity has an authoritative scripture…rather than…systematic theology, is that scripture…better conveys the mystery of God…[challenging believers] to live and think within its creative tensions” (Cahill 208). Since Jesus is a mystery it ought to be said that neither liberation nor atonement theology should ignore its counterpart but rather that each should look for ways in which the understandings of the other could enhance its own understanding of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. As Sobrino says, “part of the responsibility of current Christology will be to show how all of the plural salvations converge in the Reign of God” (453).
The question for more traditional atonement theologies, then, must be where liberation theology reveals faults in its dealings with suffering and oppression and how liberation theology can help to shape a new theology of atonement that takes seriously the social-liberation meaning of Jesus’ mission.
Cahill points us to what is perhaps the chief negative effect of the Anselmian strain of atonement theology when she speaks of its potential to “[find] the cause of human suffering in the sin of those who suffer” (Cahill 204). This is a valid concern and it must be dealt with when we form our notion of what atonement means. In Cone’s thought, when Jesus dies on the cross he takes on “the totality of human oppression” (Cone 118). The cross, in liberation theology, symbolizes that God is suffering with the people. As a necessary corollary to delivering the people from personal sin Jesus must also deliver people from social sin and as such from the suffering that results from social sin. This does mean that on the cross Jesus’ identifies himself, to a slight degree, with the oppressor, insofar as his action ultimately proves redemptive for them, but Christ on the cross is identified even more so with the oppressed (a set of people that is not mutually exclusive with the oppressors!) The cause of human suffering, then, must be in some small part in the sin of those who suffer—oppressors suffer also, and cause suffering, but the oppressed also at times take a part in perpetuating the system (Cahill 204). But the image of Christ on the cross symbolizes that suffering under an unjust system is no more in line with the will of God than the often smaller sins committed by those in the poor and outcast class.
Another difficulty that arises when looking at how liberation theology can be integrated into atonement theology is the notion of mission. I maintain that the Christ event on earth was an effort to transform. That is, the sense in which Jesus was sent for our sins, in which Jesus was a sacrifice, was in the sense of his being a “living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God,” and showing the people (corporately and individually!) the way to “be transformed” (Romans 12.1-2, NRSV).1 Thus an atonement theory that takes seriously Jesus’ solidarity with the poor will say that Jesus comes to free people from both their individual sin and the surrounding social structures, which are not at all without overlap. Jesus as living sacrifice demands change and transformation from persons and from social structures. The poor are in many cases more than willing to accept Jesus’ assessment of their own lives, but those more well off more often than not are not so willing to change. As the political aspects of his message become a greater irritant, and the theological-moral aspects of his message become more annoying, the upper classes of Judaism2 and the Roman Empire see him as more of a threat; eventually everything comes to a head and Christ becomes a literal sacrifice for human sin. At this point it might be said that the sinful structures of the Empire and of Israel under the Empire believe they have put down Jesus; we do not know, theologically speaking, whether the dark spiritual forces that exist knew about the resurrection, so we do not know if they thought they had won. But Jesus’ resurrection meant that not only he, but also the poor with whom he was in solidarity, could not be kept down. On a theological level it could be said that the Crucifixion itself was the darkest manifestation of human sin—a rejection of the Son of God based on his political agitation and his demand that humanity, including human structures, live in a fashion fully oriented towards God. The resurrection, then, gives hope. It means that sinful structures have not defeated the Love of God; it means that sinful actions cannot put down the Son of God. Sin has been conquered. An atonement theology tempered with understandings of the Christ-event from a liberation theology perspective sees Jesus mission as multifaceted, unified by His desire to reconcile God to humanity; mission is to challenge sin in persons and in society, to love the unloved and embrace the outcasts, while challenging all of humanity (especially the “ruling class”) to do the same.
For the Christian today this means that to take up the cross and follow Christ cannot mean merely attending to one’s own spiritual affairs. It is of course imperative that we as Christians attend to our own personal salvation, including a good personal code of conduct, but this inextricably will include looking after the salvation of our the social structures around us from societal sin. If Jesus’ solidarity with the poor and his desire for a reorientation of humanity towards God were the cause of his death—and he freely accepted this death—we must accept that to be a disciple of Christ implies that we also put ourselves in solidarity with the poor and oppressed and challenge those structures which are deemed unjust. We are called to follow Jesus’ example here as elsewhere. In the frightening words of M. Shawn Copeland, “[Jesus’] mission…required [that he] do something bold: that he stake his whole life and very personhood on being absolutely directed toward God” (Copeland, 186). A liberation-tempered understanding of atonement calls us to “care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep [ourselves] unstained by the world” (James 1.27).
1 I realize I am appropriating a Pauline phrase that may not be appropriate. I am doing so in an attempt to talk about a sense in which Jesus might be a “sacrifice” without necessarily having been intended to be sacrificed as literally as happened.
2 Anti-Judaism is not here intended. I am thinking of the oppressive institutions extant within the culture of Judaism of Jesus’ day as identified in the Gospels.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Zombie Jesus?
"And they went out quickly, and fled from the sepulchre; for they trembled and were amazed: neither said they any thing to any man; for they were afraid." (Mark 16:8, KJV)
"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age." - H.P. Lovecraft (source: wikipedia article)
A friend of mine once described her major obstacle in wanting to be Catholic as "zombie Jesus."
This was not accurate, at least not strictly. The Resurrection is much more terrifying than any zombie ever ought to be. I think part of what makes it so unbelievable is that the very notion of the thing is nearly incomprehensible. Not like we can't comprehend someone raising themselves from the dead; not like we can't comprehend whatever pomp and circumstance may have accompanied the event. But centuries away from it, I don't know if we can quite get our heads around this:
Some guy who came practically out of nowhere and became known as a teacher and healer in your region of the Middle East, that you've been following for three-odd years, gets crucified near Jerusalem. Now you've been expecting this guy to be the Messiah, or at least something like it. He's been ruthlessly demanding that people drop everything, including their funerals and homes, and follow him. He's been demanding this total commitment that normal teachers don't seem to want, even normal military leaders don't seem to want. And he might have just implied he was on a direct mission from God. He's been saying all this stuff about having to die, which even the best of you don't believe. Then he dies.
One day passes. Everyone's afraid, because the loss of the leader seems to mean the death of the movement.
One more day passes. Everybody's still afraid.
One more day. The tomb is found, and it's found, empty, and two weird guys inside of it are telling you he's risen, and you need to go tell persons x, y and z about it. Now everybody's terrified, so much in fact that they apparently, at least for a time, ignore the mandate of these two guys entirely.
Then people start seeing old Jesus of Nazareth walking around. His body's different, but it's similar. The man who walked about and made all these unreasonable demands and said, "Take up your cross and follow me," and then took up his cross and went to his death, is now alive again, seemingly by no power other than his own. Zombie Jesus?
Heck no. You can shoot a zombie. You can kick a zombie to death. You can't kill the Resurrected Christ; that already makes him scarier.
But why should he be scarier? After all, zombies want to hurt you, bite you, make you one of them...
Well, that last part's true with Jesus. He does seem to want us to be like him, and eventually to be resurrected like him. And it's true that he doesn't come to hurt us. But it's way scarier to be confronted with a Resurrected Jesus you can't kill than with an undead zombie that you can. Because Jesus demands not your flesh, your brain, your blood or anything you could just tear out of your body and appease him with for a time: Jesus demands your life. Your physical life, mental life, your will, your action, your possessions, your relationships, everything. Jesus eventually wants you to come to the same state as him, kind of like a zombie, except here you're going to be put up a notch, not bitten down a notch. For all of us, though, that is going to hurt. Perhaps even more than zombification.
It's hard to get one's head around the belief of someone actually having risen from the dead 2000 years ago, period, so that we can barely even begin to believe it. It might even be said that as people who are so far removed all we can really do is accept it, and accept that it happened, and that we believe in a God who does the unbelievable. We can apprehend it, but not comprehend it. And if we think about how terrifying it is to us, even though we weren't there: Imagine how terrible it would be for the disciples, who were there!
Lovecraft was, in a sense, right, though I think he was wrong about the end-effect. Of course we'll go crazy if we try and understand utltimate reality. But we need not seek a complete understanding. Lovecraft was right to fear ultimate reality, but wrong, in my book, to assume it would result in madness. It would result in true enlightenment!
I do not say, then, that it would not be joyful, or happy, to see the Risen Lord. Many times in my life I have wished for such tangible evidence as being able to put my hands where the nails were myself. But when I really think about it I conclude that such evidence would terrify me; belief would be much easier, but conversion would be inevitable. I am not calling into question the motives of my friend who has trouble believing in "zombie Jesus," so much as I am pointing out it is not merely the Resurrection that scares us about him. It is the life, death and resurrection together that ought to have us, every day, working out our salvation in joyful fear and trembling.
"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age." - H.P. Lovecraft (source: wikipedia article)
A friend of mine once described her major obstacle in wanting to be Catholic as "zombie Jesus."
This was not accurate, at least not strictly. The Resurrection is much more terrifying than any zombie ever ought to be. I think part of what makes it so unbelievable is that the very notion of the thing is nearly incomprehensible. Not like we can't comprehend someone raising themselves from the dead; not like we can't comprehend whatever pomp and circumstance may have accompanied the event. But centuries away from it, I don't know if we can quite get our heads around this:
Some guy who came practically out of nowhere and became known as a teacher and healer in your region of the Middle East, that you've been following for three-odd years, gets crucified near Jerusalem. Now you've been expecting this guy to be the Messiah, or at least something like it. He's been ruthlessly demanding that people drop everything, including their funerals and homes, and follow him. He's been demanding this total commitment that normal teachers don't seem to want, even normal military leaders don't seem to want. And he might have just implied he was on a direct mission from God. He's been saying all this stuff about having to die, which even the best of you don't believe. Then he dies.
One day passes. Everyone's afraid, because the loss of the leader seems to mean the death of the movement.
One more day passes. Everybody's still afraid.
One more day. The tomb is found, and it's found, empty, and two weird guys inside of it are telling you he's risen, and you need to go tell persons x, y and z about it. Now everybody's terrified, so much in fact that they apparently, at least for a time, ignore the mandate of these two guys entirely.
Then people start seeing old Jesus of Nazareth walking around. His body's different, but it's similar. The man who walked about and made all these unreasonable demands and said, "Take up your cross and follow me," and then took up his cross and went to his death, is now alive again, seemingly by no power other than his own. Zombie Jesus?
Heck no. You can shoot a zombie. You can kick a zombie to death. You can't kill the Resurrected Christ; that already makes him scarier.
But why should he be scarier? After all, zombies want to hurt you, bite you, make you one of them...
Well, that last part's true with Jesus. He does seem to want us to be like him, and eventually to be resurrected like him. And it's true that he doesn't come to hurt us. But it's way scarier to be confronted with a Resurrected Jesus you can't kill than with an undead zombie that you can. Because Jesus demands not your flesh, your brain, your blood or anything you could just tear out of your body and appease him with for a time: Jesus demands your life. Your physical life, mental life, your will, your action, your possessions, your relationships, everything. Jesus eventually wants you to come to the same state as him, kind of like a zombie, except here you're going to be put up a notch, not bitten down a notch. For all of us, though, that is going to hurt. Perhaps even more than zombification.
It's hard to get one's head around the belief of someone actually having risen from the dead 2000 years ago, period, so that we can barely even begin to believe it. It might even be said that as people who are so far removed all we can really do is accept it, and accept that it happened, and that we believe in a God who does the unbelievable. We can apprehend it, but not comprehend it. And if we think about how terrifying it is to us, even though we weren't there: Imagine how terrible it would be for the disciples, who were there!
Lovecraft was, in a sense, right, though I think he was wrong about the end-effect. Of course we'll go crazy if we try and understand utltimate reality. But we need not seek a complete understanding. Lovecraft was right to fear ultimate reality, but wrong, in my book, to assume it would result in madness. It would result in true enlightenment!
I do not say, then, that it would not be joyful, or happy, to see the Risen Lord. Many times in my life I have wished for such tangible evidence as being able to put my hands where the nails were myself. But when I really think about it I conclude that such evidence would terrify me; belief would be much easier, but conversion would be inevitable. I am not calling into question the motives of my friend who has trouble believing in "zombie Jesus," so much as I am pointing out it is not merely the Resurrection that scares us about him. It is the life, death and resurrection together that ought to have us, every day, working out our salvation in joyful fear and trembling.
Friday, February 20, 2009
A Funny Bit of Dialogue from Awhile Ago
Xeirxes: Hi.
KKairos: Hey. What is up.
Xeirxes: Not much, Went to church and had to work in the nursery :-\
KKairos: Heh. Mixed blessing it sounds like.
Xeirxes: Heh, I’m not complaining really. The kids are great.
KKairos: Ah. That's good.
Xeirxes: Plus, complaining is a sin :)
KKairos: They taught you that complaining is inherently sinful? Or just that it leads that direction. ?
Xeirxes: Well, complaining is sinful depending on the context of course. Complaining about your arm bleeding is probably a good thing.
KKairos: Heh.
Xeirxes: Complaining about how hard you think your work is just causes strife.
KKairos: True.
Xeirxes: Or, complaining about a person. Or a situation. It says in Phillipians, "do all things without grumbling."
KKairos: I would say venting about a person can be okay, but it has to be watched [b/c] it very easily turns to gossip. yeah
Xeirxes: True, I don't mind talking about a person's attitude too much, as long as it doesn't become gossip
KKairos: Hey. What is up.
Xeirxes: Not much, Went to church and had to work in the nursery :-\
KKairos: Heh. Mixed blessing it sounds like.
Xeirxes: Heh, I’m not complaining really. The kids are great.
KKairos: Ah. That's good.
Xeirxes: Plus, complaining is a sin :)
KKairos: They taught you that complaining is inherently sinful? Or just that it leads that direction. ?
Xeirxes: Well, complaining is sinful depending on the context of course. Complaining about your arm bleeding is probably a good thing.
KKairos: Heh.
Xeirxes: Complaining about how hard you think your work is just causes strife.
KKairos: True.
Xeirxes: Or, complaining about a person. Or a situation. It says in Phillipians, "do all things without grumbling."
KKairos: I would say venting about a person can be okay, but it has to be watched [b/c] it very easily turns to gossip. yeah
Xeirxes: True, I don't mind talking about a person's attitude too much, as long as it doesn't become gossip
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Who Crucified Jesus?
The Scriptures tell us it was an easily swayed mob that called for Jesus to be crucified and Barabbas to be released. Not the Jews as a whole but rather those in position of power over them who led the drive for crucifixion. They could just as easily have been Americans swayed by powerful politicians. The mob, I might venture, was poor and working-class, whatever meaning working-class could have had in that day. The people in power were likely better off, and possibly even some of them rich. Who crucified Jesus? The rich and the poor, the blind and the seeing, the sheep and the goats. All of these. Even Peter, who in the Catholic Church is regarded as the first Pope, in a sense crucified Jesus by his vehement denial of Christ. In a theological sense it is taught, and I believe it proper to believe, that you and I share the responsibility for this Crucifixion. But what does that mean historically? Does it mean that had we been there we would have been among the ringleaders or the mob? Was there not one human being in all of the Roman Empire who knew of the Crucifixion and did not somehow consent? Or does it simply mean that by virtue of our sinful nature we contribute to the necessity of Christ's death and resurrection? Is there any other sense in which it is proper to say that we crucify Jesus?
Sunday, April 13, 2008
The Central Doctrine
What is the central doctrine of Christianity?
Is it the Incarnation? Do we consider the Resurrection as a doctrine separate from the Incarnation event, the Christ-event as it were, and as such a separate choice as the central doctrine of Christianity? If so, are they equal or is one more important than the other? Is either of these more important than the doctrine that God created the world? Is the doctrine of Creation even really a valid choice here, given that it is hardly specific to Christianity?
I am tempted to say, if we take Christian-specific doctrines as the standard, that the central doctrine of Christianity would have to be the Incarnation of Christ. I'm still working on that, though; I haven't looked at much material on what the central doctrine is.
If I were worried merely about being funny and not about my orthodoxy I might even venture to say that the central doctrine of Christianity is "God wins." Thoughts?
Is it the Incarnation? Do we consider the Resurrection as a doctrine separate from the Incarnation event, the Christ-event as it were, and as such a separate choice as the central doctrine of Christianity? If so, are they equal or is one more important than the other? Is either of these more important than the doctrine that God created the world? Is the doctrine of Creation even really a valid choice here, given that it is hardly specific to Christianity?
I am tempted to say, if we take Christian-specific doctrines as the standard, that the central doctrine of Christianity would have to be the Incarnation of Christ. I'm still working on that, though; I haven't looked at much material on what the central doctrine is.
If I were worried merely about being funny and not about my orthodoxy I might even venture to say that the central doctrine of Christianity is "God wins." Thoughts?
Monday, January 21, 2008
KPCN01: KKairos Posts Christology Notes
This is a new thing. I'm not good enough at paying attention to homilies yet to summarize those. But I will be posting my Christology notes (when sufficiently entertaining) this semester. Today is easily one of those days. I will post in each segment a "page #" followed by stuff on that page. About 1/4 of my notes for the day (and I suspect will be in the future) was stuff I wrote that just paraphrased the stuff in the handed-out outline. Another 1/4 is my individual speculation on things. The last half or so is notes to and from another amateur theologian who is strong in the Catholic tradition and sits next to me. Enjoy. All errors in my notes are reproduced, unless they spell something I can't write on a blog. Some stuff is followed by discussion.
Page #3
So the consensus seems to be that what's being condemned by the text is "conservative inclusivism and what is advocated is more "liberal" inclusivism? [The author of the text seemed to be advocating a reverence of other religions and/or the truth thereof while maintaining the uniqueness of Christ.]
Undoing the inauthenticity of the Hist-Jesus Quest [I believe this was about alternative/not-in-power beliefs being ignored in the historical Jesus quest, but that may be fuzzy.]
Barth a Hist-Jesus person? Or a Kerygma, nothing-to-say-about-history person? Hmm. I am not so sure. [the theologians of the "no quest" historical Jesus period were later represented in a light which allows for more acceptance on their part of access to history of Jesus; in other words this was under the impression that Barth was a little more pessimistic about access to the historical Jesus than I had thought he was, which might be true or might not.]
"Any person who closes the issue...[it's] out of an insecurity." - [A classmate]
generally true, but not mathematically. I'm thinking too mathematically!
People don't generally wake up in the morning and say to themselves, "I'm going to support the dominant social structure and make a better effort to be an intentionally sexist person" But it does happen, less intentionally so, but it happens. [This was a response to talk about how you usually wind up supporting a power structure that supports you, even in scholarly work, and even if you don't intend to.]
Page #4
CALVINISM [this was a response to my fellow theologian's emphasis in a note to me that our professor had told us that we would be introduced to Edward Schillebeeckx "And you will come to love him." The underlining was done by my friend, not really in her voice.]
I'm starting to think the egalitarian-authoritarian-complementarian relationship in Christianity is more complex and nuanced than any one specific viewpoint in Christian theology will ever grasp.
Egal-Comp-auth refers to:
* relationship of authority/egalitarianism with respect to Jesus, heirarchy and laity; what does it mean to be "equals" in a faith community?
* proper relationship of complementarianism/egalitarianism in a marriage, also with respect to Jesus' authority over the marriage or whether either spouse has authority over and above the other
[For now I'll let these notes speak for themselves. Trying to go into it would be too much.]
Anglican womenpriests fleeing to Catholicism. [a note to my friend after the professor noted the author's contention that a pour-and-stir approach to things (in this case merely adding women to the hierarchy without making much other social change) was inadequate, thinking of the the recent articles featured on The Curt Jester weblog.]
Dangerous memory --> challenges to Status QUO [a note about the notion of Jesus and early Christianity as a dangerous memory that challenges social structures instead of supporting them.]
So The Way = a prophetic and Wisdom tradition, Jesus as First Among Equals [I won't go into all of this, except to say that I'm not sure I understand the JaFAE phrase and that I'm really not sure I'm correctly interpreting my professor's synopsis of the author's claims about the relation of Wisdom to the Jesus Movement in Judaism. That said, I'm still fairly confident in said interpretation.]
So there you have it. My first posting of theology notes. Enjoy.
Page #3
So the consensus seems to be that what's being condemned by the text is "conservative inclusivism and what is advocated is more "liberal" inclusivism? [The author of the text seemed to be advocating a reverence of other religions and/or the truth thereof while maintaining the uniqueness of Christ.]
Undoing the inauthenticity of the Hist-Jesus Quest [I believe this was about alternative/not-in-power beliefs being ignored in the historical Jesus quest, but that may be fuzzy.]
Barth a Hist-Jesus person? Or a Kerygma, nothing-to-say-about-history person? Hmm. I am not so sure. [the theologians of the "no quest" historical Jesus period were later represented in a light which allows for more acceptance on their part of access to history of Jesus; in other words this was under the impression that Barth was a little more pessimistic about access to the historical Jesus than I had thought he was, which might be true or might not.]
"Any person who closes the issue...[it's] out of an insecurity." - [A classmate]
generally true, but not mathematically. I'm thinking too mathematically!
People don't generally wake up in the morning and say to themselves, "I'm going to support the dominant social structure and make a better effort to be an intentionally sexist person" But it does happen, less intentionally so, but it happens. [This was a response to talk about how you usually wind up supporting a power structure that supports you, even in scholarly work, and even if you don't intend to.]
Page #4
CALVINISM [this was a response to my fellow theologian's emphasis in a note to me that our professor had told us that we would be introduced to Edward Schillebeeckx "And you will come to love him." The underlining was done by my friend, not really in her voice.]
I'm starting to think the egalitarian-authoritarian-complementarian relationship in Christianity is more complex and nuanced than any one specific viewpoint in Christian theology will ever grasp.
Egal-Comp-auth refers to:
* relationship of authority/egalitarianism with respect to Jesus, heirarchy and laity; what does it mean to be "equals" in a faith community?
* proper relationship of complementarianism/egalitarianism in a marriage, also with respect to Jesus' authority over the marriage or whether either spouse has authority over and above the other
[For now I'll let these notes speak for themselves. Trying to go into it would be too much.]
Anglican womenpriests fleeing to Catholicism. [a note to my friend after the professor noted the author's contention that a pour-and-stir approach to things (in this case merely adding women to the hierarchy without making much other social change) was inadequate, thinking of the the recent articles featured on The Curt Jester weblog.]
Dangerous memory --> challenges to Status QUO [a note about the notion of Jesus and early Christianity as a dangerous memory that challenges social structures instead of supporting them.]
So The Way = a prophetic and Wisdom tradition, Jesus as First Among Equals [I won't go into all of this, except to say that I'm not sure I understand the JaFAE phrase and that I'm really not sure I'm correctly interpreting my professor's synopsis of the author's claims about the relation of Wisdom to the Jesus Movement in Judaism. That said, I'm still fairly confident in said interpretation.]
So there you have it. My first posting of theology notes. Enjoy.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Breakthrough
I had been struggling for months for the elusive goal of becoming close to God. Trying everything that I had, I had eventually almost given up the fight entirely. In fact, the fight was being lost quickly. One night I prayed to God that He would not only help me, but help me to want Him--because I realized that I had not even desired His company or His wisdom for a very, very long time.
This prayer is what brought things around. God changed my heart, He changed my wants and interests around. Then I thought for while about this. Why couldn't I have changed my own desires?
My conclusions:
I do not have free will: will to change what I desire.
I do what I desire.
God is merciful, God has power over all things--God is the only one who can change an unwilling, icy heart into a beating one all over again.
This prayer is what brought things around. God changed my heart, He changed my wants and interests around. Then I thought for while about this. Why couldn't I have changed my own desires?
My conclusions:
I do not have free will: will to change what I desire.
I do what I desire.
God is merciful, God has power over all things--God is the only one who can change an unwilling, icy heart into a beating one all over again.
Friday, September 7, 2007
KK's thoughts continued
I heard something interesting in KK's post and I thought it was time to do my own rambling.
His post says that we shouldn't "push" people into Christianity, but rather "pull" them into it. I whole-heartedly agree, and I feel like I have some interesting thoughts to add. Whenever you push something, you're stepping outside of the bounds of where it's going, and using force from the other direction to get the task accomplished. With witnessing, we don't want to use the world's tactics to try to reach goals set by God.
Jesus never forced a person into the faith, never elbowed them or shoved them so that they would seek Him. I always imagine Him as being a kind, loving person, however a man who was also so filled with things of God that the people around Him could see it. They knew that He knew something, but He never had to convince them of it. In this way He gained a lot of respect from some people, but others grew to hate Him.
I think a good Christian witness is the kind where you feel very guilty and sore after meeting with them, but they never did anything to cause it. I know a friend of mine who is very serious about Christianity and so driven to God, that when I interacted with him, I felt guilty myself about my own walk; but he never did or said anything that was intentionally aimed at making me feel that way. He simply lived his life and it was more effective than any sort of verbal exhortation I'd received.
I think that there is room for both exhortation from the pulpit and some healthy exhortation outside of a Sunday morning (or whenever you hear preaching), but I don't think that it lends towards helping a brother as much as living in a Godly way yourself. When you walk into a church, you have given the preacher permission to exhort you. However, in your day-to-day life, any random one of your friends may not have the kind of respect in your eyes that warrants verbal exhortation. I know that some of my friends have tried to talk to me about how to improve on certain aspects of my life, but a lot of them don't have my respect in those areas, so I can't really listen to them. It's not that I need someone who's never failed to tell me I'm wrong (I have Jesus for that), I just need someone who is living that way right now.
Anyway, this is also totally unstructured mess of thoughts, but hopefully it will spur more thoughts onward.
His post says that we shouldn't "push" people into Christianity, but rather "pull" them into it. I whole-heartedly agree, and I feel like I have some interesting thoughts to add. Whenever you push something, you're stepping outside of the bounds of where it's going, and using force from the other direction to get the task accomplished. With witnessing, we don't want to use the world's tactics to try to reach goals set by God.
Jesus never forced a person into the faith, never elbowed them or shoved them so that they would seek Him. I always imagine Him as being a kind, loving person, however a man who was also so filled with things of God that the people around Him could see it. They knew that He knew something, but He never had to convince them of it. In this way He gained a lot of respect from some people, but others grew to hate Him.
I think a good Christian witness is the kind where you feel very guilty and sore after meeting with them, but they never did anything to cause it. I know a friend of mine who is very serious about Christianity and so driven to God, that when I interacted with him, I felt guilty myself about my own walk; but he never did or said anything that was intentionally aimed at making me feel that way. He simply lived his life and it was more effective than any sort of verbal exhortation I'd received.
I think that there is room for both exhortation from the pulpit and some healthy exhortation outside of a Sunday morning (or whenever you hear preaching), but I don't think that it lends towards helping a brother as much as living in a Godly way yourself. When you walk into a church, you have given the preacher permission to exhort you. However, in your day-to-day life, any random one of your friends may not have the kind of respect in your eyes that warrants verbal exhortation. I know that some of my friends have tried to talk to me about how to improve on certain aspects of my life, but a lot of them don't have my respect in those areas, so I can't really listen to them. It's not that I need someone who's never failed to tell me I'm wrong (I have Jesus for that), I just need someone who is living that way right now.
Anyway, this is also totally unstructured mess of thoughts, but hopefully it will spur more thoughts onward.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Jude 1:1-13, Reflections
Twas a Tuesday night after a long day at school when I came home and logged into AIM. KK was online and asked if I had finished reading Jude. I hadn't, so I ran into the back room of the house (the only place that was quiet enough) and studied far enough to realize that there is quite a bit of depth to Jude. When we brought it back into conversation, it took four hours to finish discussing 12 verses; and we didn't even really go over them too deeply.
[KKairos’ Note: Everything’s been edited for brevity. All in-dialog Scripture quotations are NIV from the Bible Gateway. Also, I guess verse 8 didn't really, really get its own section. Apologies to verse 8.]
Links to the Passages Discussed on BibleGateWay:
Jude, NIV
Jude, 1-13 NIV
Jude, ESV
Jude, 1:13 ESV
*** Xeirxes is Online
Xeirxes: yo
Xeirxes: i got your email
Xeirxes: sorry i wasn't online earlier, but my computer deleted the c:\windows\system\config file
Xeirxes: :-\
KKairos: ACK
KKairos: is your computer working now?
Xeirxes: yeah
…[lots of time during which Xeirxes does his reading and goes in-depth on some things, with a fair amount of conversation that doesn’t need to be included]
Jude 1:1-2: "Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ and a brother of James,
To those who have been called, who are loved by God the Father and kept by Jesus Christ:
Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance."
Xeirxes: okay so
Xeirxes: here we go
KKairos: so
Xeirxes: jude 1:1-13
KKairos: ok
KKairos: 1:1-2 seems a fairly standard epistle greeting
Xeirxes: yeah
although i did find it interesting that he says "to those who are the called"
KKairos: yeah
Xeirxes: interesting for a calvinist at least
Xeirxes: :-D
KKairos: well, possibly...is that the NIV too?
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: "to those who have been called"
KKairos: yeah, basically
Xeirxes: NASB = "to those who are the called"
KKairos: NAB = "to those who are called, beloved etc."
Xeirxes: ok
Xeirxes: anyway, standard greeting. let's move on
KKairos: Yeah.
Jude 1:3-4: "Dear friends, although I was very eager to write to you about the salvation we share, I felt I had to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints. For certain men whose condemnation was written about long ago have secretly slipped in among you. They are godless men, who change the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord."
KKairos: 3-4. Jude, essentially, feels the need to discuss people who are among the believers but who overextend grace as "a license for immortality" (NIV) and reject Jesus
KKairos: i'm confessing here that pretty much anything i say may have been influenced by footnotes, especially things that aren't crystal clear from the text itself
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: both the NASB and NIV make it plain thtat the men Jude is speaking of are men who do exactly that
KKairos:: ok
Xeirxes: also, some more interesting grammar, i can't help but wonder if it's significant
Xeirxes: "I felt the necessity to write to you appealing that you contend earnestly for the faith which was _once for all _handed down to the saints"
Xeirxes: Jude could've written "the faith that was handed down to the saints"
Xeirxes: but he said "the faith that was once for all handed down"
Xeirxes: what do you think this might mean?
Xeirxes: i don't tend to think that extra grammar is for no reason
Xeirxes: unless someone in my church is trying to describe something
Xeirxes: then they use the biggest words they can possibly find
KKairos: part of me wants to say they may just be being dramatic
Xeirxes: true
KKairos: but even that has a theological point
KKairos: at least, in theory
Xeirxes: so what is the first thing you think when you hear "once for all"
KKairos: predestination, i think; you?
Xeirxes: haha
Xeirxes: i just think
Xeirxes: "it happened once, for all"
Xeirxes: so perhaps we are digging too deep...
KKairos: yeah, maybe.
KKairos: i think maybe we ought to put emphasis (and this is my footnote-influence here) on the fact that they were entrusted with the faith
Xeirxes: that's true
KKairos: and that jude is sort of saying "defend the faith you were entrusted to defend"
Xeirxes: it brings more meaning to the fact that we must contend for the faith, since it was handed to us
KKairos: yes
KKairos: we've been trusted with it
KKairos: okay now we've beaten it into the ground
Jude 1:5-7: "Though you already know all this, I want to remind you that the Lord delivered his people out of Egypt, but later destroyed those who did not believe. And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their own home—these he has kept in darkness, bound with everlasting chains for judgment on the great Day. In a similar way, Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding towns gave themselves up to sexual immorality and perversion. They serve as an example of those who suffer the punishment of eternal fire."
KKairos: 5-7. Reminders from salvation history, or I suppose, in this case, 'damnation history,' that those who turn from God do face consequences in the end.
Xeirxes: in this section, i saw him drawing a parallel between three items
Xeirxes: where is that parallel, though?
Xeirxes: my first inclination was that all three of those groups satisfied desires with sin
Xeirxes: but it doesn't really make things any clearer, and i don't think that's necessarily what he's getting at
KKairos: ...you may be on to something there
KKairos: this IS confusing
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: i'm actually thinking that the one thing that parallels those examples is also found in these men that he speaks out against in v. 4
Xeirxes: i just found something interesting
KKairos: yes?
Xeirxes: you have, in 5-7, in order:
1. israelites
2. fallen angels
3. sodom & gomorrah
Xeirxes: and then in verse 8, the three traits described are:
1. defiling the flesh
2. rejecting authority
3. reviling .... 'glories'... or whatever that greek work means
Xeirxes: i'm thinking, more and more, that "glories" in verse 8 refers to followers of God, be they prophets, such as moses, or maybe angels, who work for God, etc.
KKairos: hmm
KKairos: angels is supported by NRSV notes
Xeirxes: so sodom and gomorrah defiled the flesh, fallen angels rejected authority, israelites reviled doxa.
KKairos: i agree with your pairing
Xeirxes: do you have a good definition of 'reviling' for me?
KKairos: no
KKairos: but
Xeirxes: i honestly don't know exactly what it means :-)
Xeirxes: I think that the people in v. 8 referred to are the men Jude is warning about
Xeirxes: i.e. "Yet in the same way, these men, *also by dreaming* (what does this mean?), defile the flesh, reject authorities, etc."
KKairos: is that the NASB?
Xeirxes: aye
KKairos: i recommend considering its wording but thinking more about other translations, on that point
Xeirxes: yeah
Jude 1:8: "In the very same way, these dreamers pollute their own bodies, reject authority and slander celestial beings."
[We talked a lot about dreamers with relation to this verse. Any insight on the dreamers, whom we have agreed are the same as the generally not-so-awesome people Jude is discussing, would be great.]
Jude 1:9: "But even the archangel Michael, when he was disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, did not dare to bring a slanderous accusation against him, but said, 'The Lord rebuke you!'"
KKairos: so verse 9 is a personal favorite of mine
KKairos: it seems to be all about just how extreme God's love is, and just how gracious we ought to be--that not even the devil is insulted by Michael the archangel
Xeirxes: that's true
Xeirxes: very good insight
Xeirxes: you know though
Xeirxes: what is Jude speaking of exactly here?
Xeirxes: i'm trying to remember the exact situation
Xeirxes: it's OT right?
KKairos: according to NRSV notes it's reference to nonbiblical Jewish tradition
KKairos: basically the story in the footnote is about Michael setting out to bury moses
KKairos: when Satan comes along and accuses Moses of being a murderer and not worthy of burial
KKairos: and then comes Michael's response quoted in Jude, which sends the devil away
Xeirxes: hmm
Xeirxes: that's interesting
Xeirxes: now the question here that i have is
Xeirxes: why did Jude say this
Xeirxes: in this context
KKairos: I think it's a setup for verses to follow
KKairos: e.g. Michael does this which is awesome, but these guys do the opposite to anything they don't get
Xeirxes: i see
Xeirxes: Michael, who understands better than any human the wickedness and deceitfulness of Satan, will not pronounce any judgement or slander upon him
KKairos: that seems to call us to an uncomfortably high standard :)
[Insert Lots of talk about the word “doxa,” which will appear in a later red herrings post.]
Jude 1:10: "Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand; and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals—these are the very things that destroy them."
KKairos: so verse...it's 10 we're on now then?
Xeirxes: yep
KKairos: 10. Not sure exactly what it means, except what it says.
Xeirxes: so in NASB it says "But these men revile the things which they do not understand; like unreasoning animals, by these things they are destroyed."
KKairos: oh wow
Xeirxes: So the question I see most quickly is
Xeirxes: what do they "know by nature"?
KKairos: NRSV: "But these people slander whatever they do not understand, and they are destroyed by those things that, like irrational animals, they know by instinct."
Xeirxes: I'm thinking that the things of instinct are simply the things of the flesh
Xeirxes: how to satisfy your desires sinfully
KKairos: That could do it, because it says "know by instinct"
KKairos: i have a slight suspicion that might not be the WHOLE picture; could we maybe put that forward as something we or at least I am wondering about?
Jude 1:11: "Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion."
Xeirxes: so in the next verse it mentions Cain, Balaam, and Korah
Xeirxes: let's think about those three dudes and what it might mean to verse 10
Xeirxes: Cain was the first murderer of course
Xeirxes: so here we go
Xeirxes: as far as we know
Xeirxes: Cain killed Abel... we'll see the linkage hopefully after we look at the other two bad dudes
KKairos: well, according to footnotes Balaam was a prophet for profit
KKairos: and Korah rebelled against MOses
Xeirxes: prophet for profit
Xeirxes: 1. say deep things
2. ???
3. prophet!
[Lots of talk about Balaam and things we don’t understand about his story.]
Xeirxes: Korah looks like he was upset with the way Moses had head over the congregation
Xeirxes: i'm trying to see if these three men tie into the defiling, rejecting and reviling
Xeirxes: but i don't want to force the perception if it doesn't fit
KKairos: i'm not seeing quite as direct a connection there
KKairos: this is partly the tired but we might just put that out there and see if anyone has insights
Xeirxes: hey
Xeirxes: hey hey hey
Xeirxes: all three men were greedy
KKairos: cain greedy for what?
KKairos: God's approval?
Xeirxes: indeed
Xeirxes: he saw that Abel had it
Xeirxes: and he didn't
KKairos: but instead of working for it
KKairos: he just got mad and killed Abel
KKairos: ...but that might be more jealousy than greed. and korah could be said to have jealousy
KKairos: but then balaam's more greed
KKairos: i dunno, thoughts?
Xeirxes: I feel that jealousy and greed are fairly similar
KKairos: so we put forth a greed-jealousy hypothesis on this one?
Xeirxes: I dunno, that's just an observation of it
KKairos: well it's probably the best connection we have at this point
Jude 1:12-13: "These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."
KKairos: so, verse 12
Xeirxes: ...heh
Xeirxes: wow
Xeirxes: what in the world
KKairos: before we begin "love-feasts" is the greatest description ever
Xeirxes: yeah i agree whole-heartedly
KKairos: when i first read that i thought maybe it was a description of a win
KKairos: err
Xeirxes: love-feasts
KKairos: a SIN
KKairos: not a WIN
Xeirxes: HEH
Xeirxes: i'm not even sure how to start with this
KKairos: [NRSV] suggests we check 1 Cor 11:20 - 21n for "love feasts"
Xeirxes: ok
Xeirxes: I'm still very confused
KKairos: i'm pretty sure they're [love feasts are] good
KKairos: and that the guys Jude's talking about are tied to the problem mentioned in Corinthians
Xeirxes: perhaps
KKairos: because the guys Jude's talking about might be the guys getting drunk while the others are going hungry
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: okay okay okay
Xeirxes: here we go
Xeirxes: clouds without water: clouds were good because they meant rain, but if they did not bring rain, it's a disappointment
Xeirxes: autumn trees are trees ready for harvest, but without fruit they are worthless
KKairos: again that's footnote influence, but i'm in agreement with it...as for the second part, yes yes and yes, BUT there is also a wanderer aspect to the phrasing, i think
Xeirxes: holy cow
Xeirxes: this imagery is really, really sharp in my mind
Xeirxes: I like his writing style
Xeirxes: So you're saying
Xeirxes: "Carried along by winds" is the wanderer aspect
KKairos: yeah
[Chatter]
Xeirxes: i'm just curious where your thoughts are on 12
KKairos: hrm.
KKairos: corinthians tie-in on the love-feasts (love feasts are good things ruined by selfish people, who in this case are the men Jude keeps talking about), and I like your thoughts on the imagery
KKairos: and in that imagery (as well as in 13) I'd add the wandering aspect
Xeirxes: what exactly is the wandering aspect, though?
Xeirxes: like, i understand that there's an aspect of it
Xeirxes: But what does it mean concretely?
KKairos: that these people wander in a bad way, sorry that's not too concrete either
Xeirxes: Another verse that comes to mind is that one about people who are tossed about by every wind of doctrine
Xeirxes: Is that what the wandering aspect is now?
KKairos: i have no idea
KKairos: i've got an idea
KKairos: howabout we just throw the wandering thing out there, and also put it out there that we're not quite sure what it means
Xeirxes: yeah, let's do that
KKairos: i dunno, verse 13 doesn't add much we haven't already discussed
Xeirxes: so anyway, let's kind of recap on 12 when we come back to Jude again, because I don't feel that we totally got all that we would have if we were fresh on it
KKairos: yeah
KKairos: we can include 13 though
Xeirxes: yes
KKairos: we can just say it expands our poorly defined wandering theme from 12
Xeirxes: "The A&D Commentary on Jude!" "Now with poorly defined wandering themes!"
Xeirxes: that concludes tonight's commentary
[KKairos’ Note: Everything’s been edited for brevity. All in-dialog Scripture quotations are NIV from the Bible Gateway. Also, I guess verse 8 didn't really, really get its own section. Apologies to verse 8.]
Links to the Passages Discussed on BibleGateWay:
Jude, NIV
Jude, 1-13 NIV
Jude, ESV
Jude, 1:13 ESV
*** Xeirxes is Online
Xeirxes: yo
Xeirxes: i got your email
Xeirxes: sorry i wasn't online earlier, but my computer deleted the c:\windows\system\config file
Xeirxes: :-\
KKairos: ACK
KKairos: is your computer working now?
Xeirxes: yeah
…[lots of time during which Xeirxes does his reading and goes in-depth on some things, with a fair amount of conversation that doesn’t need to be included]
Jude 1:1-2: "Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ and a brother of James,
To those who have been called, who are loved by God the Father and kept by Jesus Christ:
Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance."
Xeirxes: okay so
Xeirxes: here we go
KKairos: so
Xeirxes: jude 1:1-13
KKairos: ok
KKairos: 1:1-2 seems a fairly standard epistle greeting
Xeirxes: yeah
although i did find it interesting that he says "to those who are the called"
KKairos: yeah
Xeirxes: interesting for a calvinist at least
Xeirxes: :-D
KKairos: well, possibly...is that the NIV too?
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: "to those who have been called"
KKairos: yeah, basically
Xeirxes: NASB = "to those who are the called"
KKairos: NAB = "to those who are called, beloved etc."
Xeirxes: ok
Xeirxes: anyway, standard greeting. let's move on
KKairos: Yeah.
Jude 1:3-4: "Dear friends, although I was very eager to write to you about the salvation we share, I felt I had to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints. For certain men whose condemnation was written about long ago have secretly slipped in among you. They are godless men, who change the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord."
KKairos: 3-4. Jude, essentially, feels the need to discuss people who are among the believers but who overextend grace as "a license for immortality" (NIV) and reject Jesus
KKairos: i'm confessing here that pretty much anything i say may have been influenced by footnotes, especially things that aren't crystal clear from the text itself
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: both the NASB and NIV make it plain thtat the men Jude is speaking of are men who do exactly that
KKairos:: ok
Xeirxes: also, some more interesting grammar, i can't help but wonder if it's significant
Xeirxes: "I felt the necessity to write to you appealing that you contend earnestly for the faith which was _once for all _handed down to the saints"
Xeirxes: Jude could've written "the faith that was handed down to the saints"
Xeirxes: but he said "the faith that was once for all handed down"
Xeirxes: what do you think this might mean?
Xeirxes: i don't tend to think that extra grammar is for no reason
Xeirxes: unless someone in my church is trying to describe something
Xeirxes: then they use the biggest words they can possibly find
KKairos: part of me wants to say they may just be being dramatic
Xeirxes: true
KKairos: but even that has a theological point
KKairos: at least, in theory
Xeirxes: so what is the first thing you think when you hear "once for all"
KKairos: predestination, i think; you?
Xeirxes: haha
Xeirxes: i just think
Xeirxes: "it happened once, for all"
Xeirxes: so perhaps we are digging too deep...
KKairos: yeah, maybe.
KKairos: i think maybe we ought to put emphasis (and this is my footnote-influence here) on the fact that they were entrusted with the faith
Xeirxes: that's true
KKairos: and that jude is sort of saying "defend the faith you were entrusted to defend"
Xeirxes: it brings more meaning to the fact that we must contend for the faith, since it was handed to us
KKairos: yes
KKairos: we've been trusted with it
KKairos: okay now we've beaten it into the ground
Jude 1:5-7: "Though you already know all this, I want to remind you that the Lord delivered his people out of Egypt, but later destroyed those who did not believe. And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their own home—these he has kept in darkness, bound with everlasting chains for judgment on the great Day. In a similar way, Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding towns gave themselves up to sexual immorality and perversion. They serve as an example of those who suffer the punishment of eternal fire."
KKairos: 5-7. Reminders from salvation history, or I suppose, in this case, 'damnation history,' that those who turn from God do face consequences in the end.
Xeirxes: in this section, i saw him drawing a parallel between three items
Xeirxes: where is that parallel, though?
Xeirxes: my first inclination was that all three of those groups satisfied desires with sin
Xeirxes: but it doesn't really make things any clearer, and i don't think that's necessarily what he's getting at
KKairos: ...you may be on to something there
KKairos: this IS confusing
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: i'm actually thinking that the one thing that parallels those examples is also found in these men that he speaks out against in v. 4
Xeirxes: i just found something interesting
KKairos: yes?
Xeirxes: you have, in 5-7, in order:
1. israelites
2. fallen angels
3. sodom & gomorrah
Xeirxes: and then in verse 8, the three traits described are:
1. defiling the flesh
2. rejecting authority
3. reviling .... 'glories'... or whatever that greek work means
Xeirxes: i'm thinking, more and more, that "glories" in verse 8 refers to followers of God, be they prophets, such as moses, or maybe angels, who work for God, etc.
KKairos: hmm
KKairos: angels is supported by NRSV notes
Xeirxes: so sodom and gomorrah defiled the flesh, fallen angels rejected authority, israelites reviled doxa.
KKairos: i agree with your pairing
Xeirxes: do you have a good definition of 'reviling' for me?
KKairos: no
KKairos: but
Xeirxes: i honestly don't know exactly what it means :-)
Xeirxes: I think that the people in v. 8 referred to are the men Jude is warning about
Xeirxes: i.e. "Yet in the same way, these men, *also by dreaming* (what does this mean?), defile the flesh, reject authorities, etc."
KKairos: is that the NASB?
Xeirxes: aye
KKairos: i recommend considering its wording but thinking more about other translations, on that point
Xeirxes: yeah
Jude 1:8: "In the very same way, these dreamers pollute their own bodies, reject authority and slander celestial beings."
[We talked a lot about dreamers with relation to this verse. Any insight on the dreamers, whom we have agreed are the same as the generally not-so-awesome people Jude is discussing, would be great.]
Jude 1:9: "But even the archangel Michael, when he was disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, did not dare to bring a slanderous accusation against him, but said, 'The Lord rebuke you!'"
KKairos: so verse 9 is a personal favorite of mine
KKairos: it seems to be all about just how extreme God's love is, and just how gracious we ought to be--that not even the devil is insulted by Michael the archangel
Xeirxes: that's true
Xeirxes: very good insight
Xeirxes: you know though
Xeirxes: what is Jude speaking of exactly here?
Xeirxes: i'm trying to remember the exact situation
Xeirxes: it's OT right?
KKairos: according to NRSV notes it's reference to nonbiblical Jewish tradition
KKairos: basically the story in the footnote is about Michael setting out to bury moses
KKairos: when Satan comes along and accuses Moses of being a murderer and not worthy of burial
KKairos: and then comes Michael's response quoted in Jude, which sends the devil away
Xeirxes: hmm
Xeirxes: that's interesting
Xeirxes: now the question here that i have is
Xeirxes: why did Jude say this
Xeirxes: in this context
KKairos: I think it's a setup for verses to follow
KKairos: e.g. Michael does this which is awesome, but these guys do the opposite to anything they don't get
Xeirxes: i see
Xeirxes: Michael, who understands better than any human the wickedness and deceitfulness of Satan, will not pronounce any judgement or slander upon him
KKairos: that seems to call us to an uncomfortably high standard :)
[Insert Lots of talk about the word “doxa,” which will appear in a later red herrings post.]
Jude 1:10: "Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand; and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals—these are the very things that destroy them."
KKairos: so verse...it's 10 we're on now then?
Xeirxes: yep
KKairos: 10. Not sure exactly what it means, except what it says.
Xeirxes: so in NASB it says "But these men revile the things which they do not understand; like unreasoning animals, by these things they are destroyed."
KKairos: oh wow
Xeirxes: So the question I see most quickly is
Xeirxes: what do they "know by nature"?
KKairos: NRSV: "But these people slander whatever they do not understand, and they are destroyed by those things that, like irrational animals, they know by instinct."
Xeirxes: I'm thinking that the things of instinct are simply the things of the flesh
Xeirxes: how to satisfy your desires sinfully
KKairos: That could do it, because it says "know by instinct"
KKairos: i have a slight suspicion that might not be the WHOLE picture; could we maybe put that forward as something we or at least I am wondering about?
Jude 1:11: "Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion."
Xeirxes: so in the next verse it mentions Cain, Balaam, and Korah
Xeirxes: let's think about those three dudes and what it might mean to verse 10
Xeirxes: Cain was the first murderer of course
Xeirxes: so here we go
Xeirxes: as far as we know
Xeirxes: Cain killed Abel... we'll see the linkage hopefully after we look at the other two bad dudes
KKairos: well, according to footnotes Balaam was a prophet for profit
KKairos: and Korah rebelled against MOses
Xeirxes: prophet for profit
Xeirxes: 1. say deep things
2. ???
3. prophet!
[Lots of talk about Balaam and things we don’t understand about his story.]
Xeirxes: Korah looks like he was upset with the way Moses had head over the congregation
Xeirxes: i'm trying to see if these three men tie into the defiling, rejecting and reviling
Xeirxes: but i don't want to force the perception if it doesn't fit
KKairos: i'm not seeing quite as direct a connection there
KKairos: this is partly the tired but we might just put that out there and see if anyone has insights
Xeirxes: hey
Xeirxes: hey hey hey
Xeirxes: all three men were greedy
KKairos: cain greedy for what?
KKairos: God's approval?
Xeirxes: indeed
Xeirxes: he saw that Abel had it
Xeirxes: and he didn't
KKairos: but instead of working for it
KKairos: he just got mad and killed Abel
KKairos: ...but that might be more jealousy than greed. and korah could be said to have jealousy
KKairos: but then balaam's more greed
KKairos: i dunno, thoughts?
Xeirxes: I feel that jealousy and greed are fairly similar
KKairos: so we put forth a greed-jealousy hypothesis on this one?
Xeirxes: I dunno, that's just an observation of it
KKairos: well it's probably the best connection we have at this point
Jude 1:12-13: "These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."
KKairos: so, verse 12
Xeirxes: ...heh
Xeirxes: wow
Xeirxes: what in the world
KKairos: before we begin "love-feasts" is the greatest description ever
Xeirxes: yeah i agree whole-heartedly
KKairos: when i first read that i thought maybe it was a description of a win
KKairos: err
Xeirxes: love-feasts
KKairos: a SIN
KKairos: not a WIN
Xeirxes: HEH
Xeirxes: i'm not even sure how to start with this
KKairos: [NRSV] suggests we check 1 Cor 11:20 - 21n for "love feasts"
Xeirxes: ok
Xeirxes: I'm still very confused
KKairos: i'm pretty sure they're [love feasts are] good
KKairos: and that the guys Jude's talking about are tied to the problem mentioned in Corinthians
Xeirxes: perhaps
KKairos: because the guys Jude's talking about might be the guys getting drunk while the others are going hungry
Xeirxes: yeah
Xeirxes: okay okay okay
Xeirxes: here we go
Xeirxes: clouds without water: clouds were good because they meant rain, but if they did not bring rain, it's a disappointment
Xeirxes: autumn trees are trees ready for harvest, but without fruit they are worthless
KKairos: again that's footnote influence, but i'm in agreement with it...as for the second part, yes yes and yes, BUT there is also a wanderer aspect to the phrasing, i think
Xeirxes: holy cow
Xeirxes: this imagery is really, really sharp in my mind
Xeirxes: I like his writing style
Xeirxes: So you're saying
Xeirxes: "Carried along by winds" is the wanderer aspect
KKairos: yeah
[Chatter]
Xeirxes: i'm just curious where your thoughts are on 12
KKairos: hrm.
KKairos: corinthians tie-in on the love-feasts (love feasts are good things ruined by selfish people, who in this case are the men Jude keeps talking about), and I like your thoughts on the imagery
KKairos: and in that imagery (as well as in 13) I'd add the wandering aspect
Xeirxes: what exactly is the wandering aspect, though?
Xeirxes: like, i understand that there's an aspect of it
Xeirxes: But what does it mean concretely?
KKairos: that these people wander in a bad way, sorry that's not too concrete either
Xeirxes: Another verse that comes to mind is that one about people who are tossed about by every wind of doctrine
Xeirxes: Is that what the wandering aspect is now?
KKairos: i have no idea
KKairos: i've got an idea
KKairos: howabout we just throw the wandering thing out there, and also put it out there that we're not quite sure what it means
Xeirxes: yeah, let's do that
KKairos: i dunno, verse 13 doesn't add much we haven't already discussed
Xeirxes: so anyway, let's kind of recap on 12 when we come back to Jude again, because I don't feel that we totally got all that we would have if we were fresh on it
KKairos: yeah
KKairos: we can include 13 though
Xeirxes: yes
KKairos: we can just say it expands our poorly defined wandering theme from 12
Xeirxes: "The A&D Commentary on Jude!" "Now with poorly defined wandering themes!"
Xeirxes: that concludes tonight's commentary
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