A Gospel Summary from St. Augustine

I just ran across this eloquent summary of the good news of Jesus in my reading for a class. Apologies for the inclusive use of "man," but I feel some of the eloquence is lost if altered.

"To cure [foolish and blinded humanity] and make them well the Word through which all things were made became flesh and dwelt among us (Jn 1:14). Our enlightenment is to participate in the Word, that is, in that life which is the light of man (Jn 1:4). Yet we were absolutely incapable of such participation and quite unfit for it, so unclean were we through sin, so we had to be cleansed. Furthermore, the only thing to cleanse the wicked and the proud is the blood of the just man and the humility of God; to contemplate God, which by nature we are not, we would have to be cleansed by him who became what by nature we are and what by sin we are not. By nature we are not God; by nature we are man; by sin we are not just. So God became a just man to intercede with God for sinful man. The sinner did not match the just, but man did match man. So he applied to us the similarity of his humanity to take away the dissimilarity of our iniquity, and become a partaker of our mortality he made us partakers of his divinity. It was surely right that the death of the sinner issuing from the stern necessity of condemnation should be undone by the death of the just man issuing from the voluntary freedom of mercy, his single matching our double."


St. Augustine of Hippo, The Trinity (De Trinitate), ed. John E. Rotelle, O.S.A., trans. Edmund Hill, O.P., The Works of St. Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 1991), IV, 1, 4.

Two New (old) Sins

I blew it.

So, last night, it was snowing heavily in the Twin Cities, traffic going home was nearly at a standstill, my wife and I were both tired at the end of a long work day, then we were compelled to go out into the weather again to Mass, as it was the feast of the Immaculate Conception (a day of obligation for Roman Catholics). We got home around 7:30, now hungry, as well as tired. In an attempt to lighten things up, I volunteered to venture out once more and get some "to-go" food as a treat. After some debate, I ended up going to a local fast food taco joint. Once there, I just kept adding and adding stuff to our order and when I got home, not only did we (mostly I) polish it all off, I added a significant amount of ice cream on top of it. I blew it.

Some of you may know that the human inhabitants of our household have been doing Weight Watchers for a few months. (The canine inhabitant is lean & muscular, and doesn't seem to worry too much about her figure, anyway.) So, yes, I blew my "point" limit for the day. But that's not so much what concerns me. Some years ago now, I began to understand that I don't just enjoy food (a healthy thing), I love it. I idolize it. Often, I don't control it, it controls me. That's what happened last night...and that's what I blew: I fell back into an old pattern of behavior that is blatantly sinful. Yes, sinful. Traditionally (in the Bible and in Christian history), it is called "gluttony," and it has the same base characteristics as other, more readily recognizable, sins: overindulgence, idolatry, self-serving autonomy, self-slavery (creating the proclivity for further sin), etc.

Gluttony isn't spoken of much these days in terms of sins we must confess, repent of, and be forgiven for. Given the characteristic overindulgence on food, especially non-nutritious food, in the US, overeating and resultant obesity is seen as the statistical norm, which, in Aristotelian thought, becomes the moral normative. While the Church has the obligation to continue to preach such sins as sins, and to graciously and generously offer forgiveness for them, it rarely does so. Perhaps its (worldly) reasoning for not doing so is something akin to: if you drive away the gluttons by preaching against gluttony, the Church would be empty. Perhaps food, like money, is one of those "taboo" topics for homilies.

Anyway, skip ahead to today. Upon entering the room where I eat my (this time, modest) lunch at the seminary, I happened upon a fellow student named Margaret, and we fell into discussing the topic of rest. It's "crunch time" of the term (papers due, etc.), so opportunities to rest can be at a premium. When Margaret hinted that she wasn't getting much rest, I (in good humor, but probably too sharply) referred to the concept of Sabbath: that we are designed to need rest, and when we don't rest, we pridefully deny our God-given human limitations. Since Margaret has a wonderful sense of humor, she graciously chuckled and asked if one can confess the sin of not resting.

As with gluttony, the understanding of working excessively--a telltale sign of godless self-sufficiency--as sin has morphed quite a bit over the millennia, as well. In Ten Commandments days, exile and even death was prescribed for those who neglected the Sabbath (Ex. 31:14-17). Nowadays, we actually boast about being "too busy," and we idolize productivity. Can one still confess such a sin as neglecting rest? "Not only can, but should," was my response to Margaret. Nevertheless, I wonder how many confessors hear the penitent confessing their overindulgence in work, their failure to rest. Not many, I'll bet. I'm not even sure many confessors would know how to handle such a confession.

Still, I can envision a Church that adheres to preaching the dangers, the sin, of gluttony and the neglect of rest--not primarily as judgment, but as part of the "old self" that needs to be shed, that the new self, the one being remade in the likeness of Jesus Christ, can grow and become fruitful. Such a move might be radical in these times, but that's the kind of radicalness the Church needs to exhibit: Rest more! Eat less! That's the kind of Church that glorifies God and finds her ultimate fulfillment not in work, not in food, but in Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

The Liturgy of Black Friday

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It is traditionally a time of being together, feasting, watching football and parades on television, napping, and, in Wisconsin, where my wife and I celebrate the holiday, deer hunting. Traditionally, too, it is a time to reflect on the blessings of life and to give thanks. It is this last element—giving thanks—that is perhaps the most humanizing part of this late-November holiday.

Gratitude, by which I mean a conscious, active rendering of thanks, moves us outside ourselves as it acknowledges our absolute dependence on others. It humbly celebrates being a recipient as it deconstructs our notions of autonomy and self-sufficiency. And, when our thanks are rightly directed to the author of life and giver of all good gifts, gratitude actualizes us as human beings—as finite, limited creatures who are relentlessly drawn by our loving God into a life greater than our own. Truly, the traditional liturgy of gathering around a table piled high with food and pausing to recount those things for which we are thankful, and to offer our thanks up to God, humanizes us.

The day after tomorrow has been dubbed “Black Friday.” Black Friday, as one local newspaper claimed, is itself “tradition,” and “the American way.” It is a day when many Americans, still sluggish from the previous day’s feasting, rise before the sun to patronize malls, discount stores, specialty shops, and the like in the spirit of holiday shopping. Stores have taken to opening in the wee hours of the morning and rewarding “early birds” with extra savings. Shoppers have responded by lining up outside said stores, feverishly awaiting admittance, and clamoring over one another in a frenzied pursuit of particular items—items which do not deserve the moniker “goods.” This frenzy, as we have tragically seen, has even resulted in human death.

The liturgy of Black Friday is, rightly considered, a dehumanizing liturgy. Albeit, many shoppers who flood the stores that day lay claim to a selfless motivation: they are out buying Christmas gifts for family and loved ones. However, the stated goal of buying gifts loses all its credibility if one’s attitude and actions on Black Friday are decidedly ungiving. The goal of Black Friday shopping, at its core, is still one of acquisition (in contrast to reception). This acquisition is accomplished by utilizing one’s own resources (money, time, strategy) and unabashedly competing with others, even to the point of violence—even fatal violence!—in order to obtain that which one desires. The liturgy of Black Friday moves us ever deeper into our own selves, stirring up our self-centered desires and appetites not merely without the consideration of others, but often in active opposition to others. An unfortunate few Black Friday shoppers tragically find themselves no better off than a 12-point buck caught in an open Wisconsin field. The vast majority, even if immediate ramifications are not as poignant, still suffer definitive, destructive effects.

Of course, it is deeply ironic that we can spend one day supposedly immersed in the practice of gratitude, acknowledging our own dependence and limitations, and spend the very next day immersed in the practice of consumption, relying on our independence and our ability to surpass our limitations. The humanizing rituals of Thanksgiving are sadly often lost in the dehumanizing practices of Black Friday. What is needed is for us to take a page from the liturgy of Thanksgiving: to pause before consumption, offer thanks, and let the spirit of gratitude inform, guide, and even restrict our consuming—all with a humble appreciation for, and deference to, others a la Philippians 2:3-4.

Vatican Note on New Apostolic Constitution - Catholic Online

Vatican Note on New Apostolic Constitution - Catholic Online

Huge ramifications from this, I'm sure!

Indoctrination

The recent squabble about President Obama's speech for schoolchildren scheduled for today has been fraught with controversy. Right-wingers are up-in-arms, claiming that it's dangerous for Obama to be given such a platform to speak "his message" into the lives of the young and impressionable, claiming that they don't want their children "brainwashed" or "indoctrinated." Left-wingers have replied with astonishment, claiming that all the President wants to do is encourage our children to work hard in school, not "indoctrinate" them in some liberal viewpoint.

While this wildfire is obviously fueled by the out-of-control partisanship in our nation's politics, it has given me pause to reflect on the concept of "indoctrination."As long as I can remember, "indoctrination" has had negative connotations, usually alluding to something akin to brainwashing, which conjures up images of fascism and/or religious cults, but more readily applicable to mainstream ideologies, e. g. liberalism, conservatism, Evangelicalism, or Catholicism. And, of course, kids are always the ones held up as the potential victims of indoctrination. Parents don't want their kids indoctrinated.

What's at risk, apparently, is these kids' freedom to think and choose for themselves whether they might be more democratic or more republican, more Christian or more atheistic, etc. To my mind, however, this "freedom" is largely a ruse. Humans learn through interaction with other humans: both directly, as through conversation; and indirectly, as through reading and the media; either actively, as through explicit, evaluative assertions; or passively, as through omitted sentences, word craft, and propaganda. And at the level of the child, it seems to me that all of this interaction could be viewed as indoctrination, taken to mean the teaching of a particular ideology. Even the statement "I don't want my child indoctrinated" stems from a particular ideology whose doctrine is passed on through human interaction. Simply put, there is no human interaction ungoverned by ideology.

What is more valid for a parent, however, is the desire to monitor and filter those voices which reach one’s child. I would imagine most parents would want their children to hold a similar ideology to their own and are subsequently suspicious of the barrage of voices modern children encounter which may prove sufficient to topple a parent’s influence. There is some good in this, most especially because many such voices today are unfiltered (for example, this blog).

So, what about the Church? Does the Church hold to an ideology? Of course. Does it seek to hand that ideology on to young people? Absolutely. Is this a bad thing? One’s answer to that question depends on what ideology/ies one has been indoctrinated in. But to pit a freedom of thought ideology against it is doomed to fail, for it becomes, in the end, self-defeating.

Barth on Calling

"...our calling to be Christians, as plainly shown in the New Testament in the figure of Peter, must take place again and again. No man who is called does not also have to see and understand himself as one who has still to be called and therefore as one who stands alongside and in solidarity with the uncalled. ...For all the seriousness with which we must distinguish between Christians and non-Christians, we can never think in terms of a rigid separation. All that is possible is a genuinely unlimited openness of the called in relation to the uncalled, an unlimited readiness to see in the aliens of to-day the brothers of to-morrow, and to love them as such and not simply as men, neither the Old Testament nor the New knowing anything of a general love for humanity."

- Karl Barth

(Church Dogmatics. Translated by Rev. G. W. Bromiley. Edited by Rev. Prof. G. W. Bromiley and Rev. Prof. T. F. Torrance. Vol. IV, pt. 3. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1962, p. 494. Apologies for the non-inclusive language.)

Income Distribution Within U.S. Religious Groups (Pew Forum)

Very interesting graphic up at The Pew Forum:
Link is here: http://pewforum.org/docs/?DocID=376

Pannenberg on sex, marriage, family, and religion

"...In every case, however, the necessary presupposition is that the community is experienced by its members as meaningful and its claims on the individual as justified. Only if this supposition is verified can the family become, not only for the children but also for the married couple and the parents themselves, the place where human beings undergo a 'second birth' as 'sociocultural personalities.' When this presupposed priority of the community over the individual is no longer acknowledged, the individuals involved will experience the claims of marital and familial obligations as a suppression of their freedom, and not least of their sexual freedom, and they will seek emancipation from these fetters. But the priority of the community over the individual is not self-evidently valid. It requires a justification and legitimation which in the final analysis can only be found in religion. Crises affecting the structure of authority in marriage and family will therefore always be religious crises as well..."

- Pannenberg, Wolfhart. Anthropology in Theological Perspective. Translated by Matthew J. O'Connell. London: T & T Clark, 2004, 437.

More good Pannenberg...

Ok, so I'm finding good stuff here, can you tell? Here's something that might not preach to modern Western society very well, but oooo! is it good:

"The connection between act and consequence and therefore the liability of culprits for their actions precede the development of the idea of guilt and create the objective need for such a development. It is only this objective state of affairs that forbids our making no distinction between guilt consciousness generally and the various kinds of neurotic guilt feelings, and deciding that since the latter exist, all guilt consciousness is the manifestation of a disease from which human beings ought to be liberated through a more humane type of education and through instruction of the masses. For if in fact there is a necessary connection between actions and their consequences, so that in the interaction that makes up society the consequences either strike back at the agent or do harm to social life itself, then it shows a lack of realism to shut our eyes to it and to declare that we can do without the idea of guilt, at least in the sense of holding agents responsible for the consequences of their actions."

- Pannenberg, Wolfhart. Anthropology in Theological Perspective. Translated by Matthew J. O'Connell. London: T & T Clark, 2004, 291.

Pannenberg rocks!

“The way of human beings to the (divine) reality in which they can ultimately ground their exocentric existence and thereby attain to their own identity is thus always mediated through the experience of the external world. This is especially true of the relationship with the other human beings, that is, with beings whose lives are characterized by the same question and experience. But having said this, we are back in principle with Herder’s conception according to which human beings need to be educated to be themselves—educated to reason, humanity, and religion—and that such education comes to them through their experience of their world but especially through dealings with other human beings, because the theme of those other lives is or has already been the same as that of their own.”

- Pannenberg, Wolfhart. Anthropology in Theological Perspective. Translated by Matthew J. O'Connell. London: T & T Clark, 2004, 70. (italics in original).

Thought for the day (or longer)...

"Church grows from within toward the outside, not vice versa."

-Ratzinger, Joseph Cardinal. Church, Ecumenism, and Politics: New Endeavors in Ecclesiology. Translated by Michael J. Miller et al. San Franscisco: Ignatius Press, 2008, p. 15.

Following Christ conference

We'll be there!

Whatever happened to the courtesy wave?

Zipping westbound on I-94 today, I slowed slightly to let a signalling Camry in to my lane of traffic. No great sacrifice, I'll grant you. Still, I watched the driver as he/she entered and settled into "my" lane, thinking there might be some acknowledgement for my politeness. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

Of course, I'm one of those people who, having had this experience, then begins to ruminate upon it. First, I thought about how often I give courtesy waves. I'll bet, on an average week, I give anywhere from three to 10 courtesy waves. For me, it's nearly a given whenever I'm merging onto a busy interstate, which accounts for at least half of the occurrences. Then there's the awkward "who-was-here-first?"-s at stop-sign controlled intersections, the driver who stops the line-up of traffic to allow me to turn in front of them, and just generally anytime a driver shows even a small degree of courtesy (hence the name).

But I've noticed lately that, for all the courtesy waves I give, I receive very, very few. In fact, I can't remember the last time I got one...and I'd classify myself as a fairly courteous driver. That said, I think I'm going to go on a hunt--a hunt for the courtesy wave. I wonder how many I can "obtain" by, say, Thanksgiving? Watch this space. I'll keep count.

Now, if I was the cynical type, I might suggest that this dearth in courtesy waves is just one small, symptomatic factor of the ever-growing disease of individualism, self-centeredness, and entitlement pervasive in our American society today. But rather than ranting about that, let me draw a life-analogy...

In a way, traffic patterns around metropolitan areas are fair examples of how cooperation and interdependence work. Out on the highways, we all have similar basic goals (to get where we're going) and similar basic values (to travel expediently, if not speedily; not to have an accident). By virtue of the planning of the Department of Transportation, we are forced to share the same roadways, hence interdependence is not simply an option, it is, for all intents and purposes, a given. We depend on other drivers to pay attention (hang up and drive!) enough to avoid accidents that will slow us all down, to keep up with the car in front of them, to generally obey all the traffic laws, and yes, even to show courtesy now and again. While we recognize that there are some instances where legitimate emergencies (recognized by their sirens and flashing lights) will demand us to slow and pull over, we justly feel wronged when someone disregards the unwritten (and written) "codes" and obtrusively drives on the shoulder, butts in line, or otherwise puts him/herself above the cooperative spirit of the highway. It's when this spirit of self first dominates and exceeds the cooperative spirit that the whole system--not just a few inconvenienced drivers--begins to erode.

In short, on the highway, we depend on one another to restrain our self-centeredness in order to keep the system working best for all involved. We ought to simply expect that we cannot drive 90 mph, rapidly switching between lanes--not just because it's illegal, but because as drivers, we depend on other drivers not doing the same.

It occurs to me that while this analogy may be helpful in terms of contributing to a sense of social ethic, it falls far short of the demands of Christ. As the Church, we are bound to live our lives in sacrificial love (Mt. 22:36-40, pars.; Jn. 15:12-13), putting the needs of others before our own (Php. 2:1f.). In this is love perfected, the putting to death of the self, being made regenerate in the likeness of Christ, and subsequently living a life of humility, kindness, gentleness, faith, and goodness, in deference to others. It's a tall order, one which far surpasses our meager abilities. Hence, in life, we must continually turn to, acknowledge our utter dependence upon, and live our lives in surrender to our loving Heavenly Father.

On the highway, I'll settle for a courtesy wave.



For now.

An Historic Moment

I offer my congratulations to Barack Obama on being elected the 44th President of these United States. I also offer my prayers for him--that he may lead, enriched by the godly virtues of love, wisdom, and grace, duly seeking justice and serving truth--and for his family.

There is no doubt that this is an historic moment in the history of our nation, and indeed, the world, as an African American has become our President-elect. Whilst our long war to end oppression, prejudice, and racism is far from over, the results of this election has dealt a hitherto unparalleled, staggering blow to these enemies. For that, at least, we should all be able to be grateful.

A New Freedom

I've been reading some stuff lately that continues to reinforce my idea that modernistic individualism has run rampant in our society, particularly evidenced by the substance and meaning we attach to that all-surpassing term, "Freedom".

My assigned reading from Anselm's Cur Deus Homo has led me to reflect on what necessity means for God (Anselm would argue that the only operative force on God is his own volition...hence nothing can be presumed to be a necessity for God, see CDH, ii, 17/18). Perhaps the wise, obedient, and "fitting" exercise of our human wills is another feature of our being created in the imago Dei. On the flip side, when we make decisions which serve our misguided senses of self-importance, entitlement, and ultimate autonomy, we essentially live into the very basis of our (and Adam's) sin.

Still, it seems that a popular, cultural definition of freedom panders to just this end: freedom is being able to do/choose what I want. And, of course, our corrupted desires are often molded and shaped most by self-benefit, pleasure, comfort, etc. Simplifying the equation, then, we reach the point that freedom is nothing restricting me from attaining those goods and circumstances which provide me with pleasure, comfort, etc.

Pope Benedict XVI has recently maintained that this assumption is a corruption of true freedom. " 'A redefinition of the meaning of liberty' is needed, the Holy Father said, noting that it is more and more conceived as an 'untouchable right of the individual' while the 'importance of its divine origins and communitarian dimension' are ignored. 'According to this interpretation, an individual alone can decide and choose the physiognomy, characteristics and finality of life, death and marriage,' he added. But, 'true liberty is founded and developed ultimately in God. It is a gift that is possible to welcome as a seed and to make it mature responsibly so as to truly enrich the person and society.' " (see http://www.zenit.org/article-24113?l=english)

Indeed, the Church must define liberty, freedom--and live it out--in God. It's no coincidence that self-serving autonomy flies in the face of the two greatest commandments. True freedom, rather, is not freedom from all captivity, but it is captivity to the right master (Rom. 6:15ff; cf. 2 Cor. 3:17; Gal. 5:1, 13; 1 Pet. 2:16). The hard part? Sometimes the freedom given by God doesn't feel good. Sometimes it doesn't serve my needs (read: wants).

But it is of great importance that we understand that our happiness, our ultimate fulfilment as human beings, our salvation depends on something outside ourselves. Given, that, it may even be in the interest of our happiness to accept circumstances which are much less than pleasurable, than comfortable. As Anselm put it, "...it is not unhappiness to take upon oneself a discomfort willingly, out of wisdom, not out of necessity" (CDH, ii, 12).

Freedom is decidedly not captivity to our own desires. Freedom is abandonment of our bodies and minds (Rom. 12:1-2), of our lives and ourselves (Mark 8:34-38) to the mastery of Christ, of God. Only the One who gave us life in the beginning can restore it to us once again.

Kýrie, eléison.

Political Disillusionment ...and Baseball

I enjoy baseball. Living in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area, I follow the Minnesota Twins. I’m not exactly the most devout, but I’d call myself a fan. I cheer them on, winning or losing. I try to make it to a few home games every season. I watch games or highlights online, note some statistics, and I could fairly well rattle off the starting lineup and pitching rotation, if it came to it.
I saw in our local newspaper today a small AP news story which, upon searching the internet, has made it all the way into BBC news. Succinctly, McCain is accusing Obama of backing National League World Series contender, the Philadelphia Phillies, when campaigning in Pennsylvania, and supporting the American League contender, the Tampa Bay Rays, whilst in Florida. Just one more reason I’ve become so disillusioned with politics.
Have we, the American citizenry, become so fickle, so shallow in our voting whims that we actually care what teams our candidates support? Is Obama’s appeal—if legitimate—to both sides of a baseball game actually good stumping practice? I certainly hope not. I certainly hope that I am with the majority of Americans when I say that a candidate’s sports allegiances don’t sway my political opinion one iota.
For what it’s worth, if anyone out there who might happen to read these words is actually is making his or her voting decision based on what baseball team the candidates do or don’t support, do me, yourself, and your country a favor and stay home on November 4th. Or better yet, take a few minutes to explore the issues and the candidates’ stances, and go the voting booth informed. I guarantee you that there are a lot of men and women who support the arch-rivals of your favorite teams who are very able politicians and can do America some good.

Even White Sox fans.



One addendum: It’s also my hope that a time might come when candidates no longer appeal to the insignificant, flimsy factors that contribute to popularity but say nothing of personal character and ability. As a swing voter, my vote can be had by presenting political policy, legislative, fiscal, and social methodology, and demonstrating integrity. My vote can be lost by trying to be all things to all people in order to win a popularity contest.

Torah and contemporary societal hostility

A thought-inspiring quote in some Brueggemann I was reading:

"As the Western world has been perennially hostile to the claims of Jewish faith, so the emerging contemporary world of commodity grows more signally hostile to the claims of Christian faith as well. As has not been the case in the long Christian hegemony of the West, now the church is having to think and act to maintain a distinct identity for faith in an alien cultural environment. While the church will characteristically attend to the New Testament in such an emergency, a study of Torah already alerts us to the resources for this crisis that are older and deeper than in the New Testament. The Jews in exile reported themselves dismayed about singing of songs of Zion in a strange land (Ps 137:1-3). And now Christians face that same issue. The liberal Christian temptation is to accommodate dominant culture until faith despairs. The conservative Christian temptation is to fashion an absoluteness that stand disconnected from dominant culture. Neither of these strategies, however, is likely to sustain the church in its mission. More likely, we may learn from and with Jews the sustaining power of imaginative remembering, the ongoing, lively process of traditioning that is sure to be marked by ideological interest that, in the midst of such distinctiveness, may find fresh closures of reality not 'conformed to this world.' The preaching, teaching, and study of Torah is in order to 'set one's heart' differently, to trust and fear differently, to align oneself with an alternative account of the world (Little 1983)."
- Walter Brueggemann, An Introduction to the Old Testament (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003), p. 27.

It is finished.

I sit at the table which has been my workstation for about the last six weeks, gazing out the library window. A bird hops around on the grass outside. The leaves on the trees and shrubs are quiet on this still English day under an overcast English sky.

My last essay for my three-year Bachelor of Theology degree at the University of Oxford is done. It feels strange even typing the words. It has been such a tremendous, transforming time. There have been a number of long hours reading, writing, thinking, discussing, and learning. New relationships have been forged and have deepened quickly. But soon I, like most of my "new" friends, will be off to another part of the world, to put all I have learned to new tests and challenges.

The University of Oxford doesn't do closure well. The best adverb I can think of to describe the manner in which I bound and filed my last essay is "unceremoniously". Graduation ceremonies do not take place until March of next year. My college had a wonderful commissioning service back in early June, but that was before my work was done. Now, it is simply that: it's done. No parties, no celebrations, nothing outstanding to mark the occasion...it's just done.

When Jesus uttered the words "It is finished" on the cross just before he "gave up his spirit" (Jn. 19:30), what a profound utterance it was. "Unceremoniously" doesn't seem to describe Jesus' death at all, considering the supernatural events at the crucifixion recorded in the synoptic gospels: the sky being turned to darkness (Mt. 27:45/Mk. 15:33/Lk. 23:44-45), the earth shaking (Mt. 27:51), the temple curtain being torn in two (Mt. 27:51/Mk. 15:38/Lk. 23:45), the exclamation of the centurion (Mt. 27:54/Mk. 15:39/Lk. 23:47), many dead coming back to life (Mt. 27:52-53). Yet John doesn't give us any of that. He gives us: "It is finished." Simple, yet surpassingly profound: the focal point of human history expressed in three words.

I dare not equate these last three years of theological study with the earthly ministry of our Lord, much less the completion of my last essay with his crucifixion. Still, at this time when I feel such a sense of accomplishment, yet it goes relatively unmarked, I can't help wanting to steal his line.

I'm guessing he'll forgive me.

Singing Lullabies to the Giant

The Archbishop of Sydney, Peter Jensen, recently declared at GAFCON that the actions of the US and Canadian Episcopal churches awoke a “sleeping giant”—that of “evangelical Anglicanism” and “orthodox Anglicanism”. I understand the sentiment, Archbishop, I really do…but might we have chosen a better metaphor?

I’m afraid that this “giant” metaphor is unwittingly (and informatively) revealing about the current status of the sharp personal, ethical, hermeneutical, and theological disagreements and fallings-out between the liberal and evangelical/orthodox ends of the Anglican Communion: for what sense can a “giant” metaphor convey except one of opposition, of strength, of domination, of intimidation, and of power?

Obviously, such qualities are hardly laudable from a biblical perspective. They seem to fly in the face of the Galatians 5 list of “fruits of the Spirit” (perhaps especially love, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and self-control), the Beatitudes of Matthew 5 (“Blessed are… the poor in spirit, …the meek, …the merciful, …the peacemakers, …those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake…”), and the exhortation by Paul in Romans 12 (to bless those who persecute us, never to avenge ourselves, and ultimately not to repay anyone evil for evil, but to overcome evil with good). Indeed, such qualities pale in comparison to our Lord Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross.

What’s more, I would imagine that the term “giant”—even for those with a low level of biblical literacy—conjures up images of Goliath. Time and again, in both Old and New Testaments, we are given the examples of how the weaker, the meeker, and/or the more humble is granted victory, is delivered, or is otherwise justified (just off the top of my head, I think of Moses, Joshua, Gideon, Ruth, David, Peter, the women, Paul, and again, Jesus himself).

The giant needs to go back to sleep.

In my view, what needs to awaken further amongst evangelical and orthodox Anglicans is a spirit of prayer, of faith, of humility, of graciousness, of patience, of forgiveness, of sacrifice, and most of all, of love. The exceedingly difficult thing about such qualities is that they wrest power and control away from us. Yes, we may well feel like “we’re losing”. Yes, we will have to admit our own fallibility and culpability, even in the face of those with whom we so strongly disagree. But our refusal to send forth a champion, our defiance of the lures of the real Enemy, and our commitment to taking up our own cross will place these disagreements—this battle, if we must—exactly where it needs to be: in the hands of our God.