Dawkins, ABC Williams, and Kenny Debate
February 24, 2012
Just too deliciously nerdy not to share. Comments are welcome!
Lent 2012
February 21, 2012
Lent approaches with a different urgency this year. My life, in many ways, continues to improve. Yet, more now than ever, my life is a whirling tempest.
My wife and I have dealt with the impact that serious illness can have on a family. Thankfully, that illness has not been borne by either my wife, my children or by me. This, however, proves to be some of the difficulty. Is it worse to be the person suffering or the person going through the suffering with you? Suffice to say, when someone is seriously ill in a family, everyone suffers. The pain of finding a “new normal” is experienced by all; still, I imagine it must alienate the afflicted more than those that love the afflicted. This pains me, because I understand the sense of alienation that my wife and I have felt through it all and cannot wrap my mind around how to deal with it being worse. As I articulate those feelings, there is a certain sense of shame that arises – how selfish I must be to wallow in my own feelings while another suffers. But, I think that is the point, when we all participate in the suffering, we all feel the pain, and it would be wrong of me not to weed out the roots of selfishness and bitterness by examining closely how I feel.
My discernment for vocation and calling in the Church continues; and, while peace abounds in the process, the decisions God calls me to make put me at odds with very many important people in my life. There is no doubt that my spiritual life has been transformed. As my perspective grows, though, the tensions I have with certain ideologies and practices grow as well. I perceive that some of these tensions will bloom into outright contentions. Contentions that will cost me relationships and alliances. In short, faithfulness to Christ and his Church are going to drive some wedges in my life. While that is a situation that is prescribed by Christ in the Gospels, it is no less painful. I can see how some, after hearing the call, “Come, follow me” turned in sorrow. We tend to shake our heads in disappointment at these characters, but I think they knew as well as any what was at stake. How do we deal with loyalty and with faithfulness? Apparently, being loyal is to be commended, but being loyal to the wrong thing or person is folly.
Consequently, this season of repentance takes on a starkly corporate reality for me, meaning I feel more prominently my role in the corporate body. In the past, Lent has had a personal tone. In the past, I have been turned inward for the sake of purging a personal indulgence that prevented me from being faithful to my vows. This year, I feel the Holy Spirit driving me to purge weakness of heart. Some of us need to examine the ways in which we are happy to compromise the Gospel for the sake of ease. It is a simple thing to believe we have the “right answer” and then to sever ties with people that disagree. It is a much different thing continually and faithfully to engage people that disagree with us in love. We have grown weary in accountability, well – at least, I have. Lord, give me the strength to do the hard work of the Gospel. Give me the strength in affliction real or perceived to love as you loved on the cross.
Book Reviews In Short and At Length – Free of Charge: Giving and Forgiving in a Culture Stripped of Grace
February 14, 2012
In Short
This is a book that many readers will enjoy “living with.” Volf’s stated purpose for the book is to encapsulate the whole of Christian living within two axiomatic concepts. In other words, what does Christianity really look like when it is lived in a contemporary life? In Free of Charge, Volf’s answer follows two principles – one that flows from the nature of who God is and, by way of extension, another that reveals the heart of the Gospel. According to Volf, the Christian life can be summarized by participating with God in giving and forgiving. Because God’s nature is so bound up in his ability to give purely, forgiveness becomes the backdrop of all of his interactions with a creation marred by sin. If we truly follow, then our lives must mirror such giving and forgiving.
As such, the book serves as a wonderful devotional tool. While it is deeply theological, it is admirably accessible. He does not drown the text in technical writing or lofty language. I have many friends that started reading this book a long time ago. Often, in eager anticipation of their thoughts on the book, I’ll ask how it is going. They always reply, “It is so good, but I can only get so far before I have to put it down and reflect on it.” In this sense, this book is not only a wonderful resource for those that want to practice generosity or forgiveness, but it might just be the kind of reading experience that drives self-reflection in order to help those who struggle with selfish ambition or unforgiving hearts break those chains of bondage.
At Length
In Volf’s own words, the book does four things. First, it is an examination of whether the landscape of Christian perspective can appropriately be viewed through the lens of giving and forgiving. Honestly, while some will have no issue with such a conceptualization, I think there will be many others that will not be ale to fit all of their theological identity under both of these concepts – especially, not the way that Volf visualizes forgiving.
Second, the book is an interpretation of Paul’s theology. This, however, is likely to be a perspective that is widely accessible and acceptable. He confesses that he has not taken any scholarly stance, referencing the recent fighting going on over Pauline discourse (think N.T. Wright and John Piper). It turns out, that this kind of spiritual rumination over Paul may be much needed medicine for the soul. Honestly, though, I’d be surprised if those unfamiliar with theological discourse are not quite able to appreciate the nuanced way that Volf interacts with the primary source.
Third, we get a glimpse into Volf’s academic work on Martin Luther. At every turn in the book, he interacts with Luther on important points of Protestant theology; namely, Luther’s time honored perspectives on grace and faith are explained in the context of practical Christian living. I don’t want to spoil any of the content, but much of Volf’s interaction with Luther has the same freshness that his atypical approach to Pauline theology has. The book is a beautiful demonstration of how deeply careful theological inquiry can impact our every day lives.
Finally, the book was selected by the Archbishop of Canterbury to be used as the church’s official Lenten reflection in 2006. The spiritual formation facet of the book is perhaps best attested to by the fact that I have seen several friends carrying this book around with their Bibles for weeks on end. The book deals with not only the deep things of faith, but also the deep things of life – which, ironically, are not concomitant in Christian writing often enough.
In my estimation, the greatest value of this book is the practical advice it provides on giving and forgiving as spiritual disciplines within the Christian life. I have not seen many other books with a straightforward process for giving and forgiving. Volf provides clearly defined and well thought out processes for each. Consequently, the careful reader can come away with a list of things detailing what pure giving and true forgiveness really look like, as well as a process for disciplining oneself into becoming that kind of pure giver and true forgiver.
I must also confess, though, that there are stories in this book, the stories of real people and real hurt, that tore at my heart. It is, at times, difficult to read, especially if you tend to put yourself in the place of the people in the stories you read. Not once do you read Volf using a petty or trite situation as an affirmation of his points. The issues he deals with are the real issues of humanity, the gut-wrenching issues – and he interacts with them in courage and a true sense of compassion. There is no “feel good” theology going on here.
Perhaps the greatest praise I can give any book, I can give Free of Charge with out qualification. I will come back to this book again. It is worth reading over and over.
President Obama Is Between a Roman Rock and a Republican Hard Place
February 9, 2012
I am not much of a political writer. I don’t really like arguing about politics, because I feel ill-informed most of the time. I feel like I am ill-informed, because much of the information in our “news” media is biased (most likely for the purpose of stirring controversy in order to boost ratings and advertising revenue – but, that’s another rant). I feel like the available information regarding politics and politicians is biased, because politics is an industry that puts some in control and makes many wealthy. Oh, for Pete’s sake, I think you get the point – I digress.
In any case, however, I am occasionally stirred to write about political goings on. Today, I have finally been agitated enough that I need to pose a question to the public, just to make sure I understand the facts (And you, out there in cyber-space, are as public as it gets – a well kept secret that someone should let the general population under the age of 25 in on some time). I am talking about the recent brouhaha surrounding the Obama administration’s determination that health insurance plans ought to cover birth control – this, of course, includes health insurance plans provided by charities, hospitals, and universities. This, of course, sets off the Roman Catholic Church (and probably others), because they run many charities, hospitals, and universities – institutions that belong to the church and employ Christians under the spiritual jurisdiction of the church. Necessary qualifications should probably be made. For instance, I am sure these institutions employ non-Christians. However, I am too lazy to go looking for all such qualifications on a Thursday afternoon. This is why I have you.
As I understand things, the Republican field of presidential candidates smells blood in the water, and has lunged at the opportunity to snatch up the Conservative Christian vote in the primaries. They have spent a couple of days now relentlessly attempting to draw a mental association between President Obama and religious intolerance. They are declaring that another term under the Obama administration will herald an age of Christian persecution at the hands of the federal government. They intimate that another term will mean that more babies will be aborted, more people will be on welfare, and that the quality of life that all Americans experience will be diminished – all because the Obama administration wants Catholic (nay, ALL) women to have access to free birth control.
All of this causes me to gape stupidly. First, I might be mistaken here, but where are all of these Roman Catholics that actually follow the church’s instruction not to use birth control? Second, I might be mistaken, but doesn’t this equation follow logic: more birth control = fewer pregnancies; fewer pregnancies = fewer abortions; fewer abortions = better lives for women and the country as a whole? So, somehow more birth control equals more abortions, and an open attack on religious freedom. Third, doesn’t the following equation also follow logic: Fewer unwanted children = women that are healthier, happier, more productive; women that are healthier, happier, more productive = half of our nation being a more positive influence than when they are saddled with unwanted children; preventing the conception of unwanted children = a better alternative to people being irresponsible (and in some cases criminal) and having an abortion as a way to deal with irresponsibility (or criminal behavior)? Last, I am an educator at a private institution, and we get to set the agenda for our mission. As some of the American Bishops have complained, the new rule violates their ability to decide what their instititions are “about.” Well, point of order here, when private institutions accept federal money, they are giving up the right to call the shots exclusively – federal government’s money = federal government’s rules. Are these institutions taking federal money? I don’t know about all of these questions, so I am asking you, the people of the internets. Help a brother out.
The Elephant Room 2 – Still Missed One or Two
February 2, 2012
I have now spent several days ruminating over the Elephant Room, Round 2. I have what amount to two reactions that I feel comfortable making in a public forum. First, I am left with the same major objection after the telecast that I had before the telecast: Exactly what qualifies as a “diverse” perspective to the reformed Evangelical crowd represented by MacDonald and Driscoll? The guests certainly didn’t (and still don’t) seem all that diverse to this Pentecostal turned Episcopalian. Second, while my convictions as an Evangelical have been waning over the last four years, I think the Elephant Room (as a concept and in execution) provides a silver lining to the otherwise gloomy outlook I have had.
I work at an interdenominational school with nearly 1,500 students and over 100 employees. I am a member of the Bible faculty; administratively, I run various programs, head up staff and student projects, provide professional development training and serve as the spiritual director. We have students and staff that span the three branches of Christianity (Protestant, Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox), and we have students that have no Christian affiliation. In short, I understand pastoring a diverse crowd of folks, and it was my idea to take our Bible faculty to this conference. I was excited for the opportunity, and excited to have another chance to spend time interacting in a meaningful way over our commonalities as a teaching staff.
The Elephant Room 2 line up consisted of James MacDonald (Harvest Bible Chapel), Mark Driscoll (Mars Hill), T.D. Jakes (The Potter’s House), Jack Graham (Prestonwood Baptist Church), Steven Furtick (Elevation Church), Crawford Loritts (Fellowship Bible Church), and Wayne Cordeiro (New Hope Oahu). Now, what you should read in the line up is probably fairly obvious, “Our round table discussion between ‘diverse’ perspectives involves seven pastors – of them, seven are Conservative Evangelical Protestants, two are reformed, two are Pentecostal/Charismatic, and two belong to the SBC.” Now, I traveled in Pentecostal circles long enough to understand that diversity is a rare commodity for organizations that are in the midst of what we might call “institutionalization.” They are trying to secure their brand, guarantee their lineage, solidify their influence, etc. – I get it. Nonetheless, I looked at the lineup and had to reread the website’s “about” page, because I was sure I had missed something. Nope, there it was again, “The Elephant Room features blunt conversations between seven influential pastors who take differing approaches to ministry. No keynotes. No canned messages. These are ‘the conversations you never thought you’d hear.’”
While I know many of our readers will agree with me on this point, there is, apparently, a storm of controversy brewing over how outrageous it was for Macdonald to invite certain pastors to his “blunt conversation.” Many of Driscoll and Macdonald’s colleagues in the Reformed tradition are beside themselves over the interactions with T.D. Jakes (see here, here, here and here). For me, though, the attempt was not daring enough. Why didn’t we get to see ministers like Bishop N.T. Wright, Fr. Alberto Cutie, Fr. Miguel Diaz, or Rev. Tom Brock mix it up with these elite seven? I don’t mean to be too snarky, but I think the answer is obvious when halfway through the conference T.D. Jakes quipped that pastors needed to “quit being superman, and start being Ms. Lane” (the point being, that sometimes pastors need saving too), Driscoll almost reverted to high school locker room antics, shouting and posturing about how he’s not into “that stuff” (which, perhaps, was only bested by his sage observation that often we put too much focus on the failure of the men when pastors are guilty of sexual sin. He said that we never pay enough attention to the guilt of wives when pastors go outside of the marriage) I was disappointed that the groundbreaking conversation of the day was how to racially integrate congregations, and not how to take the hateful edge out of the militant Evangelical agendas against women and the GLBT community.
It wasn’t all that bad, though. Which, you may not believe, I mean with all sincerity. Something that did emerge, proving to be quite encouraging, was the emotional tone at the close of the conference. Macdonald was quite clear (and most of the others agreed heartily), that he was done with the Evangelical ethos that demands Christians be defined by what they are against instead of what they are for. He reflected on the day, then asked the others to share their gleanings, and the result was a blissful moment of transparency and vulnerability where some of America’s most influential Evangelicals said, “Yeah, you’re right, my church needs to accept all who claim Christ, not just the ones that want to sign my doctrinal statement” (all, except for Monkey-boy, who declared that the day’s conversations amounted to a whole lot more “fun” than he expected he’d have). Some even lamented the fact that the day’s proceedings had not been influenced by an even wider array of Christian leaders.
So, in short, the conference was a little disappointing, because the Evangelical notion of theological diversity is still quite narrow. However, there were great moments where it was obvious that the Spirit of God was driving these leaders to a broader ecumenical vision – that part was really exciting, actually. Consequently, a few parting thoughts on the periphery of my memory: I respect Driscoll less than when I started, I love T.D. Jakes (who knew?), I still can’t believe that Jack Graham opened by saying that the SBC isn’t a denomination, rich white guys that run churches (like the rich white guys that run congress) still have no connection to what the poor, disenfranchised or minorities of America are dealing with on a daily basis, Steven Furtick is my new man-crush (seriously, he is bad ass – I want to be his friend, or watch him cage fight Mark Driscoll), and I see a future where a whole lot of angry little bloggers get a lot of mileage out tired theological fights like “modalism.”
Dear Academia, Let’s Just Be Friends
December 29, 2011
(Apologies for the pathetic tone of this post. I’m putting it up to be cathartic and because I imagine there are a good handful of people in my position that can relate. Nevertheless, it’s got rhetorical questions and the like, and we all hate blog posts filled with rhetorical questions)
‘Tis the season for grad school applications, and there’s nothing like filling these out to make one consider the path of one’s future. I myself am in discernment limbo; my diocese has given over a year of false starts and the official discernment process has yet to begin. That puts me in the awkward position of needing to apply to seminaries without any clear direction or support from the diocese or put off school for another year in hopes that things will start moving soon. But I don’t want to just hang around for a year.
Yet this isn’t even the only issue. The question that keeps coming before me is, “Do I see myself pursuing the traditional academic path?” MDiv or MATh, to PhD, to adjunct, to tenure track… Someone like me gets asked fairly often whether ordination is even “necessary” for what I want to do. Well, is it? And what do I want to do? (More importantly, I suppose, is what does God want me to do) Do I want to be a traditional academic teacher, or a parish priest who teaches on the side? A teaching-priest? Much of this will presumably get hashed out with discernment, but pragmatic questions are important enough to think through even now.
The fact of the matter is I can’t cut it in the current institutional situation. There are too many young, childless, straight-A students out there that will automatically qualify over me when it comes to getting into schools for degrees and for careers. Everyone knows tenure is shrinking, moreover I can see just how abusive the adjunct situation is. It practically has to be like this to deal with the emerging system. I don’t really want to subject myself to a decade or more of adjunct work, at least not where it’s my primary vocation and means of living. I’ve heard too many stories of people with hundreds of thousands of dollars of student loans and not one bit of potential work to show for it. Helping out institutions and teaching on the side seems all together more healthy and desirable.
And that’s the way I’m leaning. Under a healthier education system, I feel confident that I could contribute and find work, but for now at least, I think I just wanna be friends.
Unfamiliar Voices
September 11, 2011
One of the books I read over the summer was a travel memoir by William Dalrymple, From the Holy Mountain. In it, Dalrymple follows the footsteps of a Byzantine monk, John Moschos and his pupil Sophronius the Sophist, who traveled through the Empire from Mt. Athos down to the Egyptian desert oasis Al Kharga. The book is a totally fascinating and engaging description of the very complex situation Christians are finding themselves in in the Middle East. Mostly it is a tale of the degeneration of Christianity in her historic home — an often tragic and brutal tale. Eerily, the book, written in 1997, already seems out of date. The situation is almost certainly more grim now.
The second part of From the Holy Mountain takes place in Turkey. After a brief respite in Syria, being at the time the most stable and safe home for Christians, Dalrymple moves onto Lebanon. The book to this point was unrelentingly strange to my world. Turkey, though officially a secular state, has systematically suppressed Christians there, including especially a physical and historic genocide of the Armenian Christians. By ‘historic’ I mean that the authorities literally travel around to towns and destroy any physical proof of Armenians: their churches, their homes, their graveyards, their monasteries. I found it very difficult to hear described. One thing I wasn’t expecting was for this memoir to challenge my pacifism. It doesn’t take any sacrifice on my part to say that I affirm a non-violent Kingdom here. Upon hearing these stories, perhaps for the first time in years, I became quite sympathetic to the felt need to defend oneself, one’s family, church, and home. Some monasteries that were taken over or destroyed had been there for well over a thousand years. A thousand. years.
In Lebanon, Dalrymple gives a brief history of the the Maronite eastern Rite Catholics. A shockingly bloodthirsty and cruel band of Maronite gangs had waged a long ‘civil war’ with other ethnic and religious groups in what is now Lebanon in an effort to defend what was seen as their own country — aided in no small part to a close relationship to the French. There is one particularly dark incident where Dalrymple is having a conversation with a certain Christian about the Maronite leader Samir Geagea. This man was comparing two towns, one Christian the other not:
“You can eat in Ehden, but make sure you sleep in Bsharre. Sleep in Ehden, and they will shoot you while you are asleep.’ [Bsharre was a town under the authority of Geagea. Dalrymple proceeds to question this man, listing many of the more gruesome crimes of Geagea, including the night murder of a Christian rival, the killing of women and children, a church bombing, and others.] “Geagea is a very honourable and very holy man,’ he said. ‘We are very proud of him in Bsharre…You must not believe what people say about Samir Geagea,’ said Ch’baat. ‘But you can hardly call him holy,’ [Dal.]
‘Certainly yes,’ he said, quite serious. ‘He went to mass every day and prayed by his bed every night. He had a church built wherever he was, where he fought. Every Christmas his troops expected money as a present, but instead he gave them prayer books and rosaries. Of course he went to confession ever week. He never went into battle without his cros. In his office, he always had a picture of the Virgin and a cross: never any picture of Che Guevara or anything like that.”
Another strange phenomenon was reported on multiple occasions. In some places in the Middle East there was a strange fusion of Christianity, Islam, and paganism that I found, to be perfectly honest, curious but repugnant. Apparently there are several churches, monasteries, and Mosques, where people of both faiths will come and pray to saints for healing, or for a job, to get pregnant, or for good weather. This is itself not too disconcerting, though it seems like it has potential problems. Far more troubling is that if the prayer is answered, that person will return with a goat or a sheep and the (Orthodox!) priest or Imam will sacrifice the animal in thanks to the saint! How strange! How utterly foreign to me, and foreign to the strong anti-sacrificial polemics of the Church fathers and New Testament.
I kept going over these sections in my mind. In the end, I found them impossible to understand. I couldn’t wrap my head around this man who praised Geagea, or this, well, gang leader, who could shoot a woman and child over 24 times one day, and go to Mass the next; or the animal sacrifice for saints. I was beginning to question myself strongly. In what ways has my Christian life been truly normative, and in what ways has it been exceptional? According to how I’ve been taught to understand the Gospels and the witness of the persecuted Church, even under severe pressure, the Church shouldn’t be reacting by taking up arms, but caring not about the risks, they should be testifying to another kingdom. Is that simply a position that one in my position can take? Or can it truly occur? Luckily for my sanity, I found several stories that filled me with joy and relief. Perhaps these Christians are not so strange after all?
Tony Hunt
jstambaugh
Shawn Wamsley
