. . . and the decline of western civilization5

It's been a while since I've added to this series, which is not an indication that there is no current decline in western civilization. Rather, it is more indicative of my own distractions posting on other items. Nevertheless, we return with . . .

"The DVR Ten-Second Rewind Button and the Decline of Western Civilization"

There are a few features that I enjoy about the DVR: 1) the ability to pause live TV, 2) the 30-second skip ahead, 3) the 10-second skip back, and others. But there seems to be an ill-effect coming from our ability to manipulate live action - we now have difficulty experiencing live action!

Not long after we had been using our DVR I found that while driving in my car I would miss something on the radio and would reach for the dial as though I could jump back ten seconds. This is because that is what I had become accustomed to while watching television. My level of engagement to the information coming at me had shifted. Honestly, this freaked me out a bit, and I have reevaluated my lifestyle and made some changes lest I get too far lost.

But now I see how this is becoming part of our larger culture. People simply do not listen or pay attention any longer to the reality of the moment. It is perhaps a combination of becoming reliant upon technology to repeat information at our will, and our now-inherent drive to wait for our technology to tell us it was important in the first place. Yes, all of this technology has a certain place, but only when it is subservient to us (not vice versa).

One example from a recent visit to Chipotle, the greatest manifestation of the burrito. I had to order four times in order to be heard and understood (only two people were taking my order). This is because the one person was preoccupied with talking to other people who were working, and also because she would sort-of hear me and then ask me the same question mere seconds later. She was using her own ten-second rewind on me . . . except that I was experiencing repetitive frustration.

The DVR 10-second rewind is not the sole source of society's ills. But it is proving itself to be a contributor, and is thus included here as a small piece of the decline of western civilization.

church in the present tense 1/4

Scot McKnight, Peter Rollins, Kevin J. Corcoran, Jason Clark.Church in the Present Tense: A Candid Look at What's Emerging. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2011.

What has been missing from the emerging church movement is a solid academic presentation and critique of its trends and ideals. I have often found myself frustrated in finding a coherent and comprehensive system of thought in much of what has been said and written about the movement. In fact, it often feels as though the concept of 'emergent' might be a breath of fresh airstylistically in the worship of the church, but theologically (or philosophically) it is a bit of a mess.

This is why I am interested in the current book, and want to spend some time interacting with it. Brazos Press has produced a volume that appears to have helped the conversation along quite nicely. The method of review and discussion here will be in four parts (one for each section of the book): Philosophy, Theology, Worship, Bible and Doctrine.

Part One: Philosophy

Chapter One is on the question, "Who's Afraid of Philosophical Realism? Taking Emerging Christianity to Task" by Kevin Corcoran. Admittedly, some of the upfront material is a bit philosophical in its writing style and will undoubtedly be a challenge to many readers, specifically many pastors who have not engaged in a philosophy course for some time. Nevertheless it is a good chapter.

One of the foundational points that Corcoran makes is that there is a role-reversal in the divine-human relationship: "Instead of recognizing God as our Creator and responding to him as such, we keep fashioning him into whatever role we need him to be playing at the moment" (7). Thus, approaching a real and living faith needs to be reevaluated.

Also in play in this essay is the question of postmodernity. I wholeheartedly agree with the author that this is one of the most overused and least understood terms in modern discussions of philosophy and (especially) theology (cf. 13). Hence, Corcoran goes on to establish a viable definition of postmodernism (which I was already tired of about ten years ago!). I remember my philosophy instructor (William Hasker) explaining that we cannot adequately define postmodernism as a philosophical movement because we do not have the ability to see it for what it is - beginning to end. The actual term only implies that we are now moving out of modernity into something else. So it would be wise to be patient and see what happens.

In this same tenor, Corcoran arrives at the following, "The postmodern turn for Christians is, therefore, a turn away from Christianity as believing or knowing certain things and a turn toward Christianity as opening oneself up to a transformative event" (14). He thus sees Christian faith in the postmodern understanding as a movement fundamentally built upon spiritual formation and connected to the long traditions of spiritual practices (cf. 15). The reality of the Christian journey is, therefore, the process of becoming (sort of a Kierkegaardian idea, I think), which leads the author here to say that he is constantly at the beginning of his faith (cf. 17).

Chapter Two is offered by Peter Rollins on "The Worldly Theology of Emerging Christianity." It is a solid discussion on the uniqueness of the Christian message, utilizing much Pauline thought to get his point across. Central to the argument is the notion that the church is a group that is completely distinct from all others. He puts it in a great perspective: "Instead of writing about both Jews and Greeks, slaves and free, men and women, he writes of a new identity in Christ, one that cuts across political, cultural, and biological divisions, one that involves the laying down of such identities" (23). That is to say, it is no longer a both-and of personal identification and Christian belief, it is an either-or of belonging to the world or to the kingdom narrative.

Turning this thought further on its head, Rollins asks what Paul's thought would look like if the gospel was able to transform (or call into question) the social distinctions that encompass us (cf. 25). In this line of thought he includes an interpretive semi-translation of Paul's famous Galatians 3 statement, which is interesting but makes me wonder about some of the categories listed. On a logical level why would there be both theist and atheist who have faith in Christ Jesus? I think he is going for a rather Inclusivist position here, but it reads awkwardly.

Further on this is the inclusion of his statement, "[neither] gay nor straight" which is a difficult button to push here. How far can we take such inclusion? This is not to condemn any who are homosexual, nor is it to say that it should be considered more of a sin than any other. But, on the other hand, homosexuality should not be considered more acceptable than any other behavior. Where are we allowed to draw the lines of this community if it is automatically all-inclusive without a call to leave one's sin? (Nor do I think this as a matter of God's special preference for those who are marginalized by society.)

With this piece out the way, I must say that the remainder of the essay raises some great points. One of Rollins' central points is that, ". . . to identify with Christ means to acknowledge that it is not the ultimate horizon" (25). Certainly this is a key point to understanding the faith. Salvation, after all, is not the end . . . it is the means to an end within God's kingdom-coming. And, yes, Rollins is correct in saying that identification with Christ means shaking ourselves free from the socio-cultural baggage we carry with us (cf. 26).

Even though I don't see all of the proposals following through, there is a strong philosophical foundation set here for approaching postmodern and/or emerging Christianity in a thoughtful way. It will be interesting to see how the theological perspectives (Part Two) continue to build on this.

unsung lessons of the resurrection

There are lessons throughout the resurrection narratives, specifically the more detailed version found in the Gospel of John. Some are more emphasized than others, perhaps because they are more important. Yet, I feel that these other pieces should be pointed out as well. After all, the beloved disciple thought to write them down that we might believe . . .

Early on the first day of the week the women went to the tomb and discovered that things were not as they expected. This, of course, is because ancients were quite aware as moderns that dead people have a tendency to remain dead . . . and probably the whole Roman guard bit as well. Being logical they figured that those who had conspired against Jesus and carried out his execution had come to further dishonor him by moving his body.

Mary tells this to Peter and the other disciple (most likely John), and they run away to investigate.

Lesson 1: John is faster than Peter.

Both disciples are in a full-out dash to the tomb. This is gird-up-your-loins-style haste, to be certain. But John gets there first and has some figurin' to do. He stands questioning these events at the entrance to the empty tomb. He is also aware that dead people don't walk away . . . he's Jewish and doesn't want to become defiled . . . this could be some sort of a trap to weed out Jesus' followers . . . with all of this maybe he just doesn't want to get involved. (It's hard to blame him.)

Lesson 2: Peter doesn't think that much.

Notice that Peter, who arrives second at the gravesite, doesn't think of any of this. He runs straight into the tomb to see what's going on. Or he doesn't care. Either way, in this moment Peter acts the same as he acted throughout his life - recklessly. Gospel readers have seen how Peter has a tendency to speak before thinking, now we see him leap before looking. He wants to know what is going on . . . right now.

After this, Peter and John return to the house. And then we remember that Mary was still standing at the empty tomb.

Lesson 3: Peter and John kind of forget about Mary.

The first two verses of John 20 give the account of Mary coming to the tomb. Then we are preoccupied with Peter and John for a few verses. The narrative is focused on them with such excitement that verse 11 leaves us almost with a thought of "Oh yeah, Mary was still there . . ." However these scenes were put together, it is interesting that they didn't take her with them. But we can never know if they tried to get her to come or not.

Mary seems to want to linger at the empty tomb, perhaps thinking that she will be able to get some answers if she looks around. She finds a gardener and starts asking questions, only to discover that he is the one she is seeking.

Lesson 4: Jesus is fond of the pop-in.

The evening of the resurrection has the disciples huddled together, mostly in fear and trembling, behind locked doors. Jesus appears in their midst and speaks to them. He does this a week later when Thomas is telling them that he will not believe until he sees. What is the deal with all of the popping-in and out? I think he might just be messing around with them on one level. But if I had been in a locked room when someone who I know was dead suddenly appeared in the middle of it . . . the room would not have been locked for long (*swinging hinge*).

Lesson 5: Don't miss a church meeting 'cause Jesus might show up.

Everyone gets on Thomas' case, but the reality is that he was as skeptical as the other disciples. He is singled out simply because he missed the first of Jesus' pop-ins. And we don't even know why he was gone. Perhaps it was because someone needed to go pick up some pita breads from the corner convenience . . . maybe he was out trying to ask around to what happened to the body . . . maybe he just needed to walk. Either way, it's important for us to learn here - not that doubting is a sin but that missing church sometimes leads us to missing Jesus.

These are some of the little bits that help make the story complete. People often think that the resurrection was made up, perhaps with the rest of the gospel story. But these details don't lend that as a real possibility, for the beloved disciple has simply gathered together accounts of what happened - perspectives from those who lived the story - in an effort to invite us all to become a part of that story.

Because in the end it doesn't matter if you stand outside and think about whether or not you want to get involved or rush in with reckless abandon, all that matters is that you come in and see an empty tomb, linger in his presence for a moment, and then go to tell the world.

morning has broken

Morning has broken, like the first morning

Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

walking in gethsemane

As I sat alone in a small room enveloped by a large and empty church building, I meditated upon his cross. Tired and fighting off sleep, I sat and pondered in the silence of the midnight hour. I sat and listened. It was the first hour of what we now call Good Friday.

There is a beauty in our brokenness. Our inabilities, inconsistencies, failures, lacking must all become the very vehicle for God's love to be shown to the world. Ours cannot be the method by which the world achieves - for the world is fallen and corrupt, its accomplishments twisted and sinister. The world is anti-logos and anti-agape.

The cross stands as the ultimate sign of human brokenness. It is the vehicle through which divine love was poured out upon sinful earth. It defies power-plays and attention-seeking. It breaks apart life and pours into its place life more abundant. Success is through failure, strength is through weakness, and wisdom is discovered as foolishness.

Unbeknownst to us, love has gained victory through brokenness, for we as the world did not understand the Word when it came to us. That is what demands a radical change. We as death-bound must now change course completely or be destroyed in his raging fire. We are naturally part of this death, we must therefore radically alter our core nature in order to journey into life. That begins at the cross, the most profound sign of the beauty of brokenness.

review: Jesus of Nazareth (2)

Joseph Ratzinger Pope Benedict XVI. Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2011.

I have read both of his books on Jesus published since Joseph Ratzinger was made Pope Benedict XVI in 2005. His first volume to a life of Jesus (Jesus of Nazareth, 2008) spent a lot of time on the character and teaching of Jesus. This second volume, as one can tell by the subtitle, is a study on the passion, death and resurrection of Christ.

Certainly there are points of theological disagreement, but I will contend that a Protestant would have a difficult time reading these volumes and not appreciating the portrait of Jesus that emerges from the text. In what might possibly be a move to help with such schisms in our approaches to Jesus, Ratzinger provides a study which is spoken in unity and love rather than centering on our ecumenical divisions.

The book itself covers the final week of Jesus' life, from the not-so-triumphal entrance into Jerusalem until Easter Sunday. (An epilogue is provided to help bridge thought into Ascension and even Pentecost.) This is a good read for Lent and Holy Week, for it helps us to remember that there is so much more to be gained when we focus on the cross than when we simply look at ourselves.

From the perspective of biblical studies the book is good, but not great. Ratzinger has his pocket of scholarship from which he draws - most of which are quite solid, actually - but there are clear moments when appealing to other work would benefit his text greatly. For instance, any examination into the Resurrection without mention of N. T. Wright's extensive research into the area is almost painfully obvious. (But, then again, where are we on the whole Anglican-Catholic thingy these days?) Given the research that he does interact with, it would be natural/necessary to catch these pieces.

There is, however, some good theology found in this book. Notice that I do not say there is good 'Catholic' theology, for I suppose that if it is true about God then it is good theology without distinction. A few examples to help you get a feel for the book:

1. Ratzinger's examination of Jesus' high priestly prayer is quite good. He explains it this way, "'Eternal life' is thus a relational event . . . The relationship to God in Jesus Christ is the source of a life that no death can take away" (84-85). Throughout the book there is a clear focus not only on the knowledge of Jesus, but on the impact he has on the life of the believer (as well as the life of the church).

2. His work on the Last Supper is also interesting. It is a shame that communion is so vital to the church, yet so often goes without proper theological reflection. This has shifted very recently (see Pitre's work), but there is still more to do. Here, Ratzinger spends time on the breaking of bread motif in the Gospels, "It is also a gesture of hospitality, through which the stranger is given a share in what is one's own . . . God's bountiful distribution of gifts takes on a radical quality when the Son communicates and distributes himself in the form of bread" (129).

3. Further insight is given to the Last Supper-Eucharist connection by seeing it from the perspective of Jesus as God-Man. "This faithfulness of his means that he acts not only as God toward men, but also as man toward God, in this way establishing the Covenant irrevocably" (133). This certainly connects with the notion of Jesus taking the place of Israel when she could not achieve her own redemption, and also demonstrates (from one perspective) how this covenant in Jesus' blood has been brought to reality.

4. A final section to highlight is the Garden of Gethsemane. Ratzinger challenges the reader to consider Hebrews' title of Jesus as High Priest to help us understand what is happening in the hours before Jesus' crucifixion. "For these cries and pleas are seen as Jesus' way of exercising his high priesthood. It is through his cries, his tears, and his prayers that Jesus does what the high priest is meant to do: he holds up to God the anguish of human existence. He brings man before God" (163-164).

Those committed to understanding the Passion of Christ ought to read this book, regardless of what baggage might be sitting around regarding the Roman Catholic Church. There are times of theological wrestling and ecclesiastical disagreements, staunch and fiery as they may become. But when it comes to understanding Jesus - his life, teaching, love, suffering, death, resurrection, ascension - such things need to be put away. Especially today, when so many people who are lost and hurt and who don't care about that stuff anyway.

There is something to learn from this little book by Pope Benedict XVI, who is flawed and broken and searching and holy . . . just like every one of us.

culmination

Alright, I'm going to be honest here. There is a good chance that this only applies to me, even though I've a suspicion that I am not alone.

The fact of the matter is that Holy Week, no matter how special and prioritized, is a lot of work for ministerial staff. I'm not saying this to gain pity, but am rather simply setting up the parameters of my point. There is a lot that happens in the next few days, requiring preparation and setup, jumping around and execution, cleanup and decompression. Sometimes it is easy for pastors to get so caught up in all of the stuff that we start to lose our grip on the meaning behind all of the stuff.

There are a few factors which challenge a pastor's ability to embrace the experience of Holy Week. One is the simple reality that these things take time to plan, which means that most have been mentally and spiritually engaged in Christ's passion for a number of weeks. And the most effective way of planning an appropriate and meaningful experience is to enter into the mindset of Holy Week/Easter before it actually arrives. Thus, when the day comes it almost feels as though you've been there for quite a while - and that pushes your emotional capacity to do it one more time (even if this time is 'for real').

A second factor that challenges the pastoral experience is time. Nobody has enough time anyway. Weeks can fly by in pastoral ministry just like everywhere else, but a special observance week heightens it all. Added to the difficulty of planning-execution is the feeling that there isn't enough time to pause and reflect. In order to do so requires an intentional effort and often takes form in awkward moments.

Perhaps one of the most difficult burdens on the life of a pastor is the third factor, the lack of family presence. I'm not saying that families aren't supportive or present, for in my case they are very much so. But my wife's reality on a Sunday morning is that she is a single-mom facing all of the pressures of get-to-meetin'-on-time alone. Because we have young children this is present. And while she does an amazing job handling this every week, it can often be disappointing that we don't get to have a comprehensive experience of our own church together.

A fourth challenge is energy. It takes a lot. Holy Week is just starting and I'm already out of it. There are always external distractions that will pass through the church office this week, just to make it interesting. And then you're supposed to fast, right? I don't know . . . maybe it's more about surviving? . . . am I being realistic or copping out? . . . aaaaannnd there goes my mental energy along with everything else.

On the one hand these challenges are unique, for they intentionally push against the pastoral leadership as we try to facilitate the church experience and engage people with the presence of God. On the other hand these challenges are not unlike those we face throughout life - these factors make the season challenging, not impossible. For Jesus still speaks to the hearts of tired, distracted, meager, boring pastors: Seek . . . and you will find.

and then they killed the dog . . .

It began many years ago when my sixth grade teacher spent the half hour after lunch reading to us the novel Where the Red Fern Grows. I remember listening to a captivating story about a young boy and his two redbone coonhound hunting dogs, growing up in the Ozark mountains. Although I could not tell you what the average girl in our class thought of the book it was, for the boys, a great experience.

What happens at the end of Wilson Rawls' novel is that the two dogs die. Big Dan suffers too many injuries after protecting the boy from a mountain lion, and Little Ann dies a few days later from heartbreak.

And it was hard not to cry. At least, among my classmates. Inside the air was sucked out.

It was the same feeling I had when they shot Old Yeller. Look, I understand that he had gone rabid and it was the right decision. But it was hard for Travis to do and it was hard for me to watch. Coming of age moments or not, it's hard.

This is the way the world works, I suppose. The male mind is often an odd place, and I'm not sure why this is the case. It seems that we can watch movies of war and murder without much thought given to the loss of human life. But kill off the dog, then we're somewhere between devastated and defiant. What's going on with this?

In I Am Legend Robert Neville is left with an empty New York (aside from a whole bunch of people-turned-vampire-bat-thingies) with his only companion being a German Shepherd. The fact that the world is devoid of humans is interesting, the mutant vampire bat thingies are creepy and cool, and the death they have brought makes the story. But the moment Sam dies it is tragic. Not until then, but from that point forward.

Signs was a great movie, and I wanted to see what the aliens were going to do to this family. Until I heard the screech of the dog they forgot to bring inside the house. Then it became sad.

Even Sweet Home Alabama was funny enough until they were sitting in the local coon dog cemetery, simply talking about how she was gone when the dog died. In fact, it was more emotional (in the context of the film) that Melanie walked out on Bear (the dog) than that of her walking out on Jake (the husband). And the dog died.

On and on we could go. I don't know what the reason(s) for this behavior might be, but it is an observance that I've run across. Send Rambo in and guys will cheer in the face of carnage; let the dog die and the tears will come. Of course, movies are so often used as an escape from reality, and other times they are artistic attempts at capturing reality. Since it is human nature to desire dominance and winning, we can accept certain levels of violence. But when it comes to our innocent faithful canine companions . . . back off, dude.

review: evolving in monkey town

Rachel Held Evans. Evolving in Monkey Town. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010.

In the opening pages of her self-described "too young to write a memoir" project, writer Rachel Held Evans admits, "I did try to found a heresy of my own; and when I had put the last touches to it, I discovered that it was orthodoxy" (18). This is one piece which continues to confront the current younger evangelicals - that we should believe in something worth believing in, wrestling with the question of God instead of uncritically accepting the answers of a previous generation. Therein lies the heart of this book, and the inner drive to discover something challenging and transcendent which the author demonstrates.

Certainly this book will ruffle feathers and, frankly, scare some people to death. But Evans has hit on something important here, the necessity of defining essential beliefs from those things which are uncompromising in the faith. "When you count each one of your beliefs as absolutely essential, change is never an option. When change is never an option, you have to hope that the world stays exactly as it is so as not to mess with your view of it" (99).

The current place of the Christian sub-culture is in this exact place, and Evans is the right person to help shake up our irrational grasp of irrelevant details. Having been raised in a family and culture steeped in American evangelical subculture, she began to ask questions which were considered 'wrong' and 'inappropriate' - all stemming from an unsatisfactory ability for her faith to answer her own questions. I am certain that anyone who dares to move forward with this level of spiritual tenacity has lost many friends and gained many frustrations along the way. But, in the end, it is truly knocking on the door to heaven.

What are believers to do when the are faced with the millions (billions?) who are damned to hell simply because they were not born in the right time or place to hear about Jesus? (This is what Evans refers to as a cosmic lottery, "Some of us are randomly selected for famine, war, disease, and paganism, while others end up with fifteen-thousand-square-foot houses, expensive Christian educations, and Double Stuf Oreos" (103).)

Further, what are Christians to do with those who call themselves homosexual Christians? On this point Evans raises some good discussion, perhaps too good for the average believer to answer without going through some uncomfortable moments. Since this is a review, I am willing to say that I was personally disappointed in some of her conclusions, or lack thereof. I will agree that most modern American evangelicals have too visceral a reaction to homosexuality, especially when it gets in the way of sharing God's love. But it must be said that such activity is a sin within our Scripture and needs to be regarded as such. (I am not as open as Evans on this matter.) She doesn't necessarily cross any lines here, but her writing on this isn't exactly definitive either.

As if her questions weren't difficult enough for modern evangelicals, she also weighs in on salvation, though a number of months before Rob Bell's book made everyone go crazy. But she summarizes it quite well: "Some Christians are more offended by the idea of everyone going to heaven than by the idea of everyone going to hell" (130). True. And from what we have seen in the last few weeks surrounding the release of Love Wins, it's going to be hard to challenge such a statement. (Evans doesn't go any further than C S Lewis either.)

This book is, as the title suggests, a journey of an evolving faith that doesn't contain neatly packaged answers. It is a shared journey in order that the reader might also be encouraged to go along and find a faith that is engaging instead of static. Toward the end of the book she writes, "False fundamentals make it impossible for faith to adapt to change" (218). In other words, orthodoxy should not be made to include things that are not essential to Jesus or the kingdom which he brought to us.

What lies behind this book is a postmodern approach to faith, necessary for the changing hearts and minds of the generations. It is becoming painfully obvious that the answers of yesterday no longer deliver the impact on the questions of today. Though the answers we once had emerged from a culture that needed to arrive at them, it is clear that we must keep moving now. "So prepared to defend the faith, we missed the thrill of discovering it for ourselves. So convinced we had God right, it never occurred to us that we might be wrong. in short, we never learned to doubt" (225).

Quite an interesting walk.

glory and the character of god

Often you hear about how someone's wrestling thoughts about God as posted on a blog landed them in serious trouble. This might end up being one of those posts. Yet, nevertheless, I am going to continue typing and see where this thing goes.

It began at a discussion on Roger Olson's blog regarding comments made by John Piper. We're only talking about John Piper because he decided to act judgmentally against Rob Bell, who has different (and popular) views on salvation than does Piper. And sometimes going against John Piper - and/or the Reformed tradition - is heresy enough.

There is a statement made in a YouTube video by Piper which makes the claim that God allows Satan to live and evil to occur because his glory can shine more brightly in the presence of darkness than in its absence. I have seen this theological logic before and I think it is wrong. As a first year seminary student I remember hearing someone say that God ordained the Fall so that we might understand better his character and glory, through grace and mercy and salvation. I wondered why God would need a fallen state to reveal to us what a perfect moral state could not . . . I wondered why God needed evil . . . I wondered why God needed.

So, logically this breaks down. But what about the moral character of God that is on the table here. It appears to me that we are creating more of an schizo Dei than approaching the imago Dei when we try to rationalize evil as part of divine necessity. Does God actually need evil to reveal his glory? I don't think so.

Further, if God did in fact need present darkness in order to more brightly shine his light, would he so callously be responsible for human suffering for the sake of his own ego?

Look, we talk about and peddle the love of God and then we say that God has us suffer because he needs to be glorified more. These appear to be contrary sentiments on a moral scale, for it seems to say that God needs to hurt us in order to show how much he loves us. If this is true then perhaps we are institutionalizing some of the godliest people in our culture.

Theologically, this is a question of determinism. Morally, this is a question of looking at a God that I can love.

John Sanders once wrote, "This is borne out in the biblical materials. God, because he cares, is repeatedly hurt, angered and saddened by sinful human actions" (The God Who Risks, 172, emphasis mine). There are many responses to the reasons for God to reveal, glorify and establish himself above all others. But do those sentiments hold up when it comes at the cost of his own creation? . . . a creation that Scripture repeatedly says he cares so much about?

There are many pages in the Bible that become problematic because of these wires getting crossed in our concept of God. Think about the genocide that happened during Israel's conquest, for example. Is that God's glory at the expense of lives and families? I don't know if I can find an answer which I am willing to accept just yet.

As I anticipate some responses to this line of thought, let me say that the discussion here is not revolving around human sinfulness and consequence. We are talking about God's character (at least John Piper was initially speaking of it). This is about God's supposed willingness to allow suffering and death so that he might be glorified more . . . because he needs a fallen state to reveal himself whereas an un-fallen state would not do.

Is God willing to run over humanity for the sake of his own glory?

Before we jump into a misguided-quotation-driven rehearsal of 'his ways are not our ways' let us remember that we are speaking about holiness and goodness. Ultimately, can we trust this God in what he says?

If God is using suffering to bring about his glory, then are we stuck in a theistic caste system? Wouldn't any attempt to heal potentially interrupt the work of God? Let's look at this:

1. God ordains a sickness in a person.

2. God desires for the person to be healed.

3. God will obtain greater glory through the healing.

4. Can God obtain even greater glory if the sickness becomes more severe?

5. Are we potentially undoing God's glory if we heal prematurely?

6. Did Jesus lessen the glory of God by healing?

7. Is God more glorified in raising Lazarus than in healing a woman with hemorrhage?

8. Does God grant healing out of his love for us or from his desire for self-glory?

I don't think that this definition of glory allows it to be compatible with love, as some immediately think. Some will say that the revelation of God's glory is synonymous with his love for us, since he knows that is what we need more than anything. This, again, sounds like rationalizing.

Perhaps it is time that we come to grips with the notion that this God loves us and will go through death for us, even though the world still rages around us. We are caught up in this fire when we see that divine intensity is greater still. But our concept of God must do honor to him rather than be borne out of our own character. There it is true that his ways are not our ways - for his ways are passionate and perfect love. I am not ready to accept a God who is as much a glory-seeker as we are when his center is an intense fiery love which goes beyond our comprehension.

review: Jesus and the jewish roots of the eucharist

Brant Pitre. Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist. New York: Doubleday, 2011.

Ever since I read through Brant Pitre's published thesis, Jesus, the Tribulation, and the End of Exile, I knew that this was going to be a scholar worth watching. Having interacted with him on a few occasions, I know that he is a great person to have written this book. This study is a solid combination of academic rigor, scholarly precision, and ecclesiastical heart.

The primary objective of this book is to explore the mystery of the biblical account of the Last Supper, as well as the ongoing practice of Eucharist (or Lord's Table, Communion, etc.). Through an examination of the first century Jewish context of the Last Supper, Pitre seeks a better understanding of what Jesus was trying to say and what his disciples would have heard. This then serves as the foundation for understanding of modern Christian belief.

There is both shock and mystery in the Christian faith, as is evidenced by the challenges of understanding what Jesus said and did. The simple fact of the Eucharist is, in and of itself, a shock and mystery. Pitre includes a quote from scholar Geza Vermes, "The imagery of eating a man's body and especially drinking his blood . . . even after allowance is made for metaphorical language, strikes a totally foreign note in a Palestinian Jewish cultural setting" (17).

Alright, but then just how did the disciples understand this?

Pitre's exploration covers a variety of themes within the background and context of The Last Supper. Jesus comes as a new Israel which experiences God's new exodus, thus infusing the common Passover meal with powerful symbols of this new reality (chs 2-3). It has been widely understood that Jesus deliberately alters the typical Jewish Passover meal (73), in order to demonstrate his sacrifice and God's salvation.

Points that most modern readers probably have not seen are the implications of Jesus as a new manna (ch 4), or as the Bread of the Presence (ch 5). Both of these are steeped in Jewish tradition and Hebrew Scripture more than the typical modern evangelical is aware. But, the imagery, as Pitre demonstrates, is ever-present throughout Jesus' teaching and context.

It should be noted that Pitre makes no attempt to hide his own Roman Catholic beliefs on the Eucharist, making a strong biblical case for understanding transubstantiation - the belief that the bread and wine become, supernaturally, the body and blood of Christ. I would love to explore this, but will do so in a later post. Those who are unfamiliar with the Roman Catholic understanding of this should read through Pitre's book for this reason as well.

Jesus is intentionally taking the symbols of bread and wine and making them about himself. He takes the Bread of Presence (lit., Bread of the Face (121)) which was present in the Tabernacle/Temple and defines it with his own body. Jesus now places powerful symbol on the fact that something greater than the Temple is with us - as though God has now tabernacled among us (cf. John 1:14). Pitre quotes the ancient words of Cyril, "Jesus once in Cana of Galilee turned the water into wine, akin to blood; is it incredible that He should have turned wine into blood?" (146).

Regarding the wine (ch 6), Pitre explores the four main cups around which Jewish Passover feasts are structured. In the gospel accounts we can account (via Luke 22:19) that Jesus reached the third cup during the Last Supper (158-159). He makes the third cup (berakah, the cup of blessing) the symbol of his blood, gives it to his disciples, and then vows not to drink of the fruit of the vine until he comes again in God's kingdom. Thus, a point drawn out by Pitre, Jesus does not complete the Passover Meal because he does not drink the fourth cup (which is hallel, or praise).

Coming to his crucifixion, Jesus does not accept the first offer of wine - probably an offer given to the condemned as a means of dulling their senses to the pain. As he prepares to die he says, "I am thirsty" (John 19:23), at which point he is offered wine vinegar. Once this is done he declares the work to be finished and dies. It is perhaps best understood, advocates Pitre, that this is the fourth cup of praise, given after the Lamb has been sacrificed at the coming of God's kingdom (166-168). It was the Last Supper which gives the sacrificial context to the execution (168).

Chapter 7 brings together various ideas regarding transubstantiation, with the notion of Jesus' body and blood being supernaturally found in the bread and wine. Pitre has done well to show reason for Jesus to have believed that this was 'supernatural bread' (182), along with the support of early church fathers.

The concluding chapter (ch 8) serves well to illuminate the current participation in the Eucharist. Many churches do not participate in the weekly participation of bread and cup, and are greatly missing the power of this ritual. The bread and wine are typically brought out at Maundy Thursday-Good Friday services, but what about Easter? What about Pentecost? What about the third Sunday of September? The Eucharist is not only a participation in the death of Christ, it is a participation in the resurrection (197). Pitre brings this out with a brief examination of the post-resurrection encounter in Emmaus.

This book is a tremendous resource for any who are interested in a better understanding of the body and blood of Jesus. Thus it should be a resource close to all believers, for the sad truth of the matter is that we have lost the context of the Last Supper and are lacking the power of Jesus' symbolic retelling of a new exodus.

God loves animals (but PETA is stupid)

Posting anything on April 1 is somewhat dangerous, even when it is a story that is as weird as this one. But I assure you that what we have here is, unfortunately, not a put-on.

The animal rights advocacy group known as PETA has released a statement regarding the NIV 2011 Bible translation. That's right, now we have to hear from yet another group who have no concept of biblical translation or hermeneutical theory on what is and is not acceptable as Scripture.

PETA is calling for the removal of "speciesist language" - which ultimately means that the Bible should use personal pronouns ("he" or "she") instead of the current rendering of "it" when referring to animals. (Also, this would include "who" instead of "which" in the text.) In a letter written to Douglas Moo, Chair of the Committee on Bible Translation, the activist group is making the case that all of God's creatures deserve the mercy and compassion of nice words.

If you feel the need to read the letter, it may be found here.

Yes, these are the same people who place nude people on giant billboards because God's mercy and compassion for all living creatures is so important that we may ignore those other pesky passages which highlight God's desire for modesty and proper respect for the human body as his own eikon in the world.

Also, this is the same group that is calling for the tolerance of animals in the Bible but which have also failed to maintain levels of common decency in how they confront those whom they oppose. They often attack - with paint, pies-to-faces, etc. - people when they are ignored. One 2009 ad was an affront to the very religion to which they are now trying to play nice - a model posed as an angel, wearing nothing but wings and a strategically placed cross while hovering over a church building.

One thing that our culture does not lack is the abundance of people who are willing to share the expertise of their own self-righteousness, especially when lecturing the Christian community. Their letter makes a poor attempt at biblical scholarship and translation, for it cannot move beyond Genesis 1-2. The opening chapters of Scripture are clear to show that, of all of the creatures made by God, humanity alone is made in his image and given charge to rule on his behalf over all he has made.

Not only with PETA, but with many groups it has become an unfortunate reality that we should continue the outworking of self-desire more than the development of true faith.