N. T. Wright on Reason and War

(ht: Allan Bevere)

And here is is a post from a fine new blog called "The N. T. Wright Project." The project is being carried on by some students and a professor at Princeton Theological Seminary. The post raises the point I have raised several times about the possible relation between the work of N. T. Wright and John Howard Yoder. A couple of years ago, I discussed this with Richard Hays, and he agreed with me that there is a fundamental consistency in the work of Wright and Yoder. Unfortunately, Yoder died before learning much of Wright's work, and Wright has not yet engaged Yoder, although Hays has urged him to. Needless to say, I disagree with Douglas Harink, who tries to drive a wedge between Yoder and Wright in his book, Paul and the Postliberals.

On not knowing whether or not I am progressive

One of my favorite blogs is Levellers, not because I always agree with Michael, but because he usually makes me think. Although Michael has used the term "progressive" many times on his blog, I'm not sure if he has ever defined the term. Clearly, it is an important category for him. (Forgive me, Michael, if you've defined the term and I just can't remember). I think there is a problem with the way some of my Methodist friends use the term "progressive." It's almost as if "progressive" is a more determinative category than "faithful Christian." It's like they define 'progressive' on non-theological grounds first, and then try to show that Christianity can also fit into that more important category. It strikes me as backwards. It also strikes me as a horrible mistake to define the term "conservative" on non-theological grounds and then try to show that Christianity qualifies for that honorific title. I suppose I try to discern what it means to practice faithful Christian discipleship, and then later let other people worry about what labels they want to attach to it. They will sometimes call me conservative, sometimes progressive, but I don't particulary care.

In the past few weeks and months, there has been a lot of blogging about torture. I have blogged about this topic several times in the past, and I have spoken in my church about the reasons that torture cannot be reconciled with Christian belief or practice (It is a denial of the imago dei in each person, and it flatly contradicts Christ's teaching on love of enemies). Recently there have been attempts to link the issues of abortion and torture, and most of those attempted links have been poorly done. They sound like angry, immature rants. (not that I am above that!). But one exception to that observation is this blog post by my friend Ken. Ken challenges us to re-think our assumptions about torture and abortion, but Ken does it with grace and wisdom, not shrill, empty rhetoric. I don't know if Ken is being progressive or conservative, but it sure sounds faithful to me.

Marva Dawn at the College of Pastoral Leaders

It is my privilege this week to be attending the College of Pastoral Leaders, sponsored by Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary and funded by the Lily Endowment.  I am participating over the next two years in a theological cohort called "The Living Tradition," in which we will be studying Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Wesley, and Barth.  The five members of our cohort will be meeting several times over the next two years and have the chance to meet with a few theologians.

This week in Austin, all of the various cohorts (about 50 people) are gathering to hear lectures by (among others) Marva Dawn, whose theme for the week is keeping the Sabbath.  I have been learning from Marva Dawn's books for over fifteen years, and I heard her speak at the Duke Pastors' School a few years ago.  She is an excellent speaker, with the heart of a pastor and the mind of a theologian.  She is probably my favorite Lutheran theologian and author.  

One of the things I have always appreciated about Marva Dawn is that she calls our attention to the little details in life that we often don't think about (such as our language).  Yet she shows how the little things we do and say carry great theological import.  For example, she called our attention to what we might mean by such a simple sentence as, "We are going to church."

What theological assumptions go undetected in such a sentence?  Why do we say, "We are going to church?"  We are the church.  We don't need to go to it.  Church is not a building; church is a body that we already are.  We go to the church building to engage in the practices of being the church, but we don't "go to church" because we are already the church.  What ecclesiology goes into the assumption that we "go to church"?  Our theology of baptism should render such statements unintelligible.  What bad theology are we allowing to sneak in under the radar when we make such statements?

Now I will be the first to admit that I have said thing like "going to church."  But I need to watch myself and my language more carefully.  Do you think Marva Dawn is being too picky on this?  She told us, if I am just being an old fuddy-duddy, just tell me.  I think she is being a guardian of our language, and this is actually important work.  When we let our language slip, our practices will soon follow.

Tomorrow, she will be talking about the principalities and powers.

Why I Love America

because when we are at our best, the USA stands for justice and doing what is right

because we try to be a democracy, and as Walter Wink says, democracy is nonviolence institutionalized

because we try to be generous, when we are at our best

because even when we fall short of our ideals, there is always hope for a better tomorrow.

because we are making some progress towards racial reconciliation

because Scripture tells us to pray for the emperor (1 Timothy 2:2)

The United States is far from perfect; we have a lot of growing to do. But we have some good internal resources in our history from which to draw.

As William Sloan Coffin once said, "Love your country; just don't stop at the borders."

Faith, Reason, and Evangelism

I've been talking with Marvin and Lee about the relationship between faith and reason. I've been trying to represent the view of Lesslie Newbigin, who emphasized that all reason is contingent and shaped by tradition. Marvin and Lee seemed ok with the idea of reason being contingent, but they disagreed with my assertion (from Newbigin) that the resurrection does not fit into any plausibility structure except one of which it is the cornerstone. It has also turned into a discussion about evangelism.

Shane Claiborne says that the best evangelism technique is to fascinate the world with grace. I think he means to embody the gospel in such as way as to stir up people's curiosity. Certainly arguing some theory (whether liberal or postliberal) is a dubious evangelism technique.

Marvin, I also struggle to evangelize, or lead my congregation in evangelizing. I am very happy to come together and reason with secularists or anyone else. I've done Harry Potter Bible studies with children (Camassia, hold your tongue!) and I advertised in the Salisbury Post an Advent series based on themes from traditional Christmas movies (don't tell my friend Jason Byassee)! I pray at local PTA meetings. I've had only a few secular people nibble, but no one bite.

Marvin, remember when we went to that anti-war meeting in Charlotte, and we were asked to go around the room, introduce ourselves and tell why we were there? Amidst all the diversity of people there, I said, "I'm Jonathan, and I'm here because of Jesus." It got some Amens from the Muslims who were there and even some nods of approval from the secularists who were there. I have been terribly unfaithful since that time in following up with my theology of peace, but it does strike me that to embrace the particularity of Jesus does not necessarily turn away non-Christian people.

I think Shane Claiborne is right; unless we embody the gospel in extraordinary ways, no one is going to care what theory we espouse. Which may mean that our first task is embodiment, not proclamation. Of course, it is easier to discuss theories than to embody the gospel, which is why I'm sitting at my computer right now rather than working down at Rowan Helping Ministries. I don't mean to sound anti-intellectual, philosophy and theology are important, but they can't take the place of love.

I do like the approach of N. T. Wright as seen in Simply Christian. As one Duke theologian said in his very favorable review of that book,

I'm generally wary of apologetics because it tends to portray a faith rather different from the life actually lived by Christians and often implies that one can have Jesus without church. I'm largely persuaded by Karl Barth's claim that the best apologetics is good dogmatics. Wright, however, uses his opening themes as appetizers, rather than as interrogators whose demands must be met. He allows Christianity to speak for itself rather than forcing it to address issues that have a supposedly more significant or comprehensive origin, such as "the human condition." This is stylistically impressive and disarmingly persuasive.

Thanks everyone for making me think about these matters. I would welcome any additional thoughts.

The Methodists Must Take Heed to their Doctrine

'The Methodists must take heed to their doctrine, their experience, their practice, and their discipline. If they attend to their doctrines only, they will make the people antinomians; if to the experimental part of religion only, they will make them enthusiasts; if to the practical part only, they will make them Pharisees; and if they do not attend to their discipline, they will be like persons who bestow much pains in cultivating their garden, and put no fence round it, to save it from the wild boar of the forest." -- John Wesley

History and Hope

Lift every voice and sing,
'Til earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on 'til victory is won.

Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chast'ning rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
'Til now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who has by Thy might
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,
Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land.

-James Weldon Johnson (1871-1938)

The narrowness of heresy and the wideness of the catholic church

"The media seldom acknowledge the obvious fact that the supporters of these books --writings as the Gospel of Truth of Valentinians, the recently published Gospel of Judas, and many others-- never sought to have them included in the canon or list of Christian Scripture. They did not, because they insisted that theirs was the true interpretation of events and the sole authoritative book. There was no need for a canon or list of inspired books. Theirs was it! In sharp contrast to this attitude, the incipient church - those who eventually won the debates and the struggles of the time - was willing and even eager to include in its list a variety of books that did not always agree among themselves but that generally expressed the beliefs of the church at large. Thus, the one great difference between the heretics and those who eventually came to be known as "the church" was that the latter was willing, within limits, to accommodate a variety of views, while the heretics insisted on their own - whatever that was in each particular case - as the only correct one. It was for this reason that the nascent church began to refer to itself as "catholic." The word itself means "according to the whole," or "according to all." Thus, while the Valentinians had the Gospel of Truth and some others had the Gospel of Thomas or the Gospel of Judas, the 'catholic' church proclaimed the Gospel according to Matthew, and according to Mark, and according to Luke, and according to John.

This goes against the common stereotype of the church being narrow-minded in contrast with the open-minded attitude of heretics, when in fact the opposite is closer to the truth: at least in the early centuries of Christianity, it was the heretics who rejected all views but their own, and most often the church at large allowed for more latitude than did heretics."

--Justo Gonzalez and Catherine Gunsalus Gonzalez
Heretics for Armchair Theologians, p. 11.