Have you seen The King's Speech?

A few weeks ago, Alex, a student in my PSYC 120 Introduction to Psychology class, asked me if I would let him give a talk in my class. I agreed. And today he gave his talk to an audience of 150 of his peers.

Alex suffers from a fairly severe case of stuttering. And in his talk Alex shared his story along with some of the science about the etiology and therapy options. Afterward he took some questions from the class. Who were, to a person, absolutely wonderful. (I love ACU students.)

I would describe Alex's talk as heroic. Not in the "Once more into the breach!" kind of way. But as an example of the kind of everyday heroism that is needed to expose yourself so vulnerably to friends, peers, and strangers. The heroism of just being yourself, flaws and all, in front of another. I found Alex's presentation both educational and profoundly moving.

In the middle of his talk Alex shared his favorite passage from the bible. He mentioned that some have wondered if Moses suffered from stuttering given what he tells God in Exodus 4:

Moses said to the LORD, “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.”

In light of Moses' complaint and, perhaps, disability, God responds:

The LORD said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

That phrase--"I will help you speak"--has stuck with me all day. God certainly helped Alex speak today, despite the pauses, repetitions, and blocks. And it made me think about my own brokenness when it comes to communication with others. A brokenness perhaps more spiritual than physical and neurological.

"I will help you speak and will teach you what to say."

I don't "claim" God's promises like a lot of Christians do. I don't think or talk that way about my faith. But something about those words haunted me today.

I found myself wanting the promise Moses had. I wanted to learn how to speak.

If you are actually here at the blog, and not on the RSS feed, you'll have noticed that a few weeks back I changed my profile pictures. The reason for this was that my old picture, from a few years ago, showed me with short hair. But I'd been growing my hair long for about three years. So I looked very different from by blog picture. In light of that, we had my friend Tammy, a local photographer, take some pictures of what I look like right now. Thus the sidebar photo update.

Now I must say that living with longer hair has been a bit of an adventure. For example, Trisha, my administrative coordinator, seems to alternate each day between calling me "Jesus" and requesting that I "get a haircut." But what if I like looking like Jesus? That's the real question...

Speaking of looking like Jesus, a few weeks ago Josh Graves visited our church and gave a sermon about how the Lord's Supper is a participation in the ongoing eschatological wedding banquet of the Lamb. You can listen to his sermon here on the Highland podcast site. Anyway, Josh wanted to have a bit of drama to go along with his sermon, a kind of visual parable of what he was talking about. So he sends out a request to the Highland office for a "modern looking Jesus." And, of course, my phone rings.

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Two weeks ago I asked people to talk about why they had given up Facebook or Twitter for Lent (or for a "fast"). I want to thank those of you who responded and shared. You've convinced me that there is something here very much worth investigating. Toward that end I'd like to think out loud for a few posts about the spirituality of iPhones, mobile computing, and Web 2.0 generally.

I'd like to start by revisiting what William Stringfellow said about iPhones.

[Beat]

Of course, William Stringfellow died in 1985 so he couldn't have said much about iPhones. Still, I'd like to use Stringfellow's analysis of "the powers" to frame how we approach the spirituality of iPhones and Web 2.0 social computing.

To start, Stringfellow describes "the spiritual forces" we battle against like this:

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If I'm dogmatic about anything it's about being undogmatic.

I don't believe in anything very strongly except for my very strong belief that I shouldn't believe anything very strongly.

Is that paradoxical? Do I contradict myself?

Perhaps. Occasionally, I've had people try to convince me that my undogmatic dogmatism is self-refuting. They use the same argument you hear used a lot to refute postmodern epistemology. The postmodernist says, "There are no absolute truths." So the question is asked, "Is that statement an absolute truth? Because if it is, you've contradicted yourself. And if it's not true then there are absolute truths."

And guess what? This sentence is false.

So is it a contradiction to be dogmatically undogmatic? I'm not sure. But in a certain sense I don't really care. Because I'm not really trying to make a logical argument. My concerns here are more about ethics and interpersonal relationships. My allergic reaction to dogmatism isn't meant to be an epistemological claim. My problem with dogmatism is simply this:

I don't like dogmatism because I don't like the people it creates.

And if I contradict myself, well, I'll just embrace my inner Whitman:

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

The oldest gospel we have, the gospel of Mark, ends in the most curious of ways:

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’”

Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.

The ending is strange. We've come to associate joy with Easter. Christ is risen! And yet, here in Mark the news of the Risen Lord brings not joy, but fear.

Why?

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From C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe:

"You have a traitor there, Aslan," said the Witch. Of course everyone present knew that she meant Edmund...

"Well," said Aslan. "His offence was not against you."

"Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?" asked the Witch.

"Let us say I have forgotten it," answered Aslan gravely. "Tell us of this Deep Magic."

"Tell you?" said the Witch, her voice growing suddenly shriller. "Tell you what is written on that very Table of Stone which stands beside us? Tell you what is written in letters deep as a spear is long on the firestones on the Secret Hill? Tell you what is engraved on the sceptre of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea? You at least know the Magic which the Emperor put into Narnia at the very beginning. You know that every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have a right to a kill...that human creature is mine. His life is forfeit to me. His blood is my property..."

"It is very true," said Aslan, "I do not deny it...Fall back, all of you," said Aslan, "and I will talk to the Witch alone..."

...

The rising of the sun had made everything look so different - all colours and shadows were changed that for a moment they didn't see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end; and there was no Aslan...

"Who's done it?" cried Susan. "What does it mean? Is it magic?"

"Yes!" said a great voice behind their backs. "It is more magic." They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.

"Oh, Aslan!" cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.

"Aren't you dead then, dear Aslan?" said Lucy.

"Not now," said Aslan...

"But what does it all mean?" asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.

"It means," said Aslan, "that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know: Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitors stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards..."

"And now," said Aslan presently, "to business. I feel I am going to roar. You had better put your fingers in your ears."

And they did. And Aslan stood up and when he opened his mouth to roar his face became so terrible that they did not dare to look at it. And they saw all the trees in front of him bend before the blast of his roaring as grass bends in a meadow before the wind.

Last week I read Christus Victor by Gustuf Aulen. Aulen's book is considered by many to be an important recovery of the original Christian understanding of the atonement. Most Christians tend to think of the atonement in terms of satisfaction, often with the legal twist seen in penal substitutionary atonement. In this view, which hardly bears repeating, Jesus dies in our place to satisfy God's justice. As Aulen notes, this view, while common among modern Christians (the Orthodox are the exception here), was not the original Christian understanding. Satisfaction theory was a more recent invention, taking full shape round 1027 with Saint Anslem's treatise Cur Deus Homo? (Why did God become man?). During the Protestant Reformation the notion of legal satisfaction (i.e., God's justice requires a death-sentence to achieve satisfaction), a slant going beyond Anselm's seminal work, took final shape and became the ascendent view in Western Christianity.

But for the first thousand years of the church a different view held sway, a view Aulen labels Christus Victor. It is also called the "classical" or "ransom" view of the atonement. Aulen describes the central idea:

[T]he central theme [of this] idea of the Atonement [is] a Divine conflict and victory; Christ--Christus Victor--fights against and triumphs over the evil powers of the world, the 'tyrants' under which mankind is in bondage and suffering, and in Him God reconciles the world to himself.

In the New Testament these "evil powers" are most closely identified with Sin, Death, and the Devil. In many places in Paul's writings Sin, Death, and the Devil almost function as synonyms. Collectively, these are the powers that hold humanity "hostage." We are the "captives" of Sin, Death, and the Devil. And without Christ we are doomed. Thus, according to Christus Victor theology, Christ comes to earth to do battle with and ultimately defeat Sin, Death, and the Devil. And by defeating these enemies Jesus sets humans free.

Colossians 2.20
Since you died with Christ to the elemental spiritual forces of this world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its rules...

Romans 8.37-39
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

1 Corinthians 15.20-26
But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. But each in turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him. Then the end will come, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father after he has destroyed all dominion, authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

One aspect of ransom theory was how the first Christians interpreted passages like this:

Mark 10.45
For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

1 Timothy 2.5-6
For there is one God and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all men...

Most modern Christians read these verses through the prism of satisfaction theory. In this theory the ransom is paid to God to satisfy God's demand for justice. But the first Christians didn't see it that way. The first Christians believed that the Devil held humanity captive and, thus, the ransom was being paid to the Devil. God, in this view, is wholly loving and benevolent. Satan demands the blood and the death. Not God.

I like to call ransom theory "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Theory" because, as seen above, it is the theology behind the actions of Aslan and the White Witch. Due to his sin, according to Deep Magic of Narnia, the White Witch has a rightful claim upon Edmund. As she says: "That human creature is mine. His life is forfeit to me. His blood is my property..." This is how the first Christians saw the fall of Adam and Eve and all humanity since Eden. Because of our sin the Devil "owns" us, our blood is the Devil's property.

So Christ, like Aslan does for Edmund, substitutes himself for us. Christ pays the blood ransom setting us free from the Devil's rightful claim. And thus are we saved. The White Witch kills Aslan instead of Edmund. The Devil kills Christ instead of Adam and his offspring.

But it gets even more interesting than this. In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe something else happens beyond the substitution. The Witch kills Aslan, but that's not the end of the story. There is a Deeper Magic that the Witch doesn't know about. And this Deeper Magic brings Aslan back to life, cracking the Stone Table and, thus, ending the era of sacrifice in Narnia. But more than ending sacrifice, Aslan also defeats Death itself: "the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards..."

The Stone Table cracks because Aslan tricks the White Witch into taking an innocent victim: "Though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know: Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation." Interestingly, some of the Church Fathers, Gregory of Nyssa in particular, articulated something very similar regarding Christ's defeat of the Devil. Specifically, in the Incarnation God hides himself in human form. Kind of like a Trojan Horse. The Devil can clearly see that Christ is special, perhaps even the Messiah, but still just a man. So Satan kills Jesus thinking he will thwart God's plan. In the words of St. Augustine, the Devil took the "bait." Like a fish taking a worm on a hook. Like the White Witch killing Aslan thinking that would be the end of the story.

So the Devil takes Jesus down into hell, his Citadel of Sin and Death, where all humanity, starting with Adam and Eve, are being held captive. There the Devil tries to lock Jesus up with the rest of humanity when--Surprise!--the Devil discovers that Jesus isn't just a man. Jesus is God Incarnate. The Devil has been fooled into letting God into hell. Jesus then leads a jail break, cracking open the gates of hell and freeing humanity, leading them up to heaven. These events are called the harrowing of hell and are recounted in a couple of places in the New Testament:

1 Peter 3.18-20a
For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit, through whom also he went and preached to the spirits in prison who disobeyed long ago...

1 Peter 4.6
For this is the reason the gospel was preached even to those who are now dead, so that they might be judged according to men in regard to the body, but live according to God in regard to the spirit.

Ephesians 4.8-10
This is why it says:
"When he ascended on high,
he led captives in his train
and gave gifts to men."
(What does "he ascended" mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions? He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.)

Again, for the first thousand years of church history this was how Christians understood the atonement. Our modern theory of satisfaction didn't arrive until much later. But one of the reasons the modern version did take over was due to the fact that people began to be increasingly uncomfortable with the power afforded the Devil in ransom theory. Could the Devil really have a rightful claim on humanity? Does God really have to bargain with the Devil to free humanity? And isn't the whole notion of tricking the Devil into killing Jesus a little outlandish? Questions like these swirled around ransom theory from the very beginning, but they grew more and more acute until, finally, one atonement theory was swapped for another around 1027.

Now why am I going into all this for a Good Friday meditation? Well, because I agree with Aulen that something was lost when we turned our backs on the original understanding of the atonement. I agree with Aulen that we should return to the first Christian understanding of the atonement.

But the immediate objection to this is that if we were to return to the original Christian understanding wouldn't that mean readopting all those shenanigans associated with the Devil? The deal making, the trickery and all that weirdness?

Aulen says we don't. And his argument goes like this. All this drama about the Devil is just that, a drama, a story told to get across some very important ideas. Read literally, the details about Christ's defeat of the Devil are hard to swallow. But the theological truths associated with this drama are so very, very right. And right in ways that the modern satisfaction theory is so very, very wrong.

Aulen discusses, among others, three ways ransom theory gets it right.

First, it is true that all the deal making and trickery in ransom theory looks strange. But it points to a key theological insight: the non-violence of God. As Aulen writes:

[T]his whole group of ideas, including the semi-legal transaction with the devil, the payment of the ransom-price, and the deception, is presented, often explicitly, in order to deny that God proceeds by way of brute force to accomplish His purpose...He overcomes evil, not my an almighty fiat, but by putting in something of His own, through a Divine self-oblation.

This is a huge contrast between ransom theory and, say, modern penal substitutionary atonement. In penal substitutionary atonement violence is an intrinsic feature of God. God's blood lust and violence drives the whole mechanism. It's paganism all over again.

But in ransom theory God is non-violent. God demands no blood price. More, God even deals with the Devil non-violently. God overcomes evil by self-sacrificing. The Devil--like the White Witch--craves blood. Not Aslan. And not God.

Second, the legal transaction between God and the Devil--the White Witch claiming that Edmund is her "lawful prey"--shouldn't be taken to mean that God and the Devil are equals. Rather, as Aulen writes, "in the Fathers the essential idea which the legal language is intended to express is that God's dealings even with the powers of evil have the character of 'fair play.' Thus this point connects with the last. Evil is overcome not by an external use of force, but by internal methods of self-offering."

Finally, what are we to make of the drama of "tricking" the Devil? What theological insight does that communicate? In response to this question Aulen writes that "behind all the seemingly fantastic speculations lies the thought that the power of evil ultimately overreaches itself when it comes in conflict with the power of good, with God Himself. It loses the battle at the moment when it seems victorious."

Here, then, is the dramatic power of ransom theory. The climax of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The upside down logic of Good Friday. The scandal. The stone of stumbling. The foolishness.

The lamb that was slain is the Lion of Judah.

There, on the cross, where it seems that death is now victorious, a Deeper Magic is at work.

I've been reading Isaiah 53 during Holy Week (among other texts) and I concluded today that the sentiment expressed Isaiah 53.12 might be the most subversive, scandalous, and destabilizing idea in all of Scripture:

...he was numbered with the transgressors...

I mean, can any church or Christian ever be smug, safe, contented, moralistic or self-satisfied in light of Isaiah 53.12? Just when the dust settles Isaiah 53.12 comes along, taps you on the shoulder and says, "By the way, God is over there. Yes, with those people."

Any other nominations for most subversive text in all of the Bible?

One of the things I'm learning in the prison bible study is how different theology sounds inside the prison as opposed to outside the prison.

Two examples from this week.

First, on Sunday night during our small group Al, who was leading our discussion, read some selections from Rachel Held Evans' book Evolving in Monkey Town. If you've read the book you know that the book is more about spiritual evolution than biological evolution, mainly the journey from certainty and dogmatism to doubt and tentativeness. In light of that Al had us go around the room describing our own spiritual journeys. And all of us, to a person, had made the same journey Rachel has traveled. Once, long ago, we knew all the answers. Today we have a bunch of questions.

Now I'm aware there is a lot of doubt in the prison. How couldn't there be? But the men I'm working with seem so faith-filled. Not dogmatic, but really convinced God is alive and active in their lives. In short, I don't think our small group class would have translated well into the prison setting. Where our stories, on the outside, were from faith to doubt, the stories on the inside, I suspect, are going the opposite direction.

Driving home from the prison I often call Jana to talk. Tonight as we talked I was contrasting, as I did above, our small group discussion with the time I just spent with the inmates. And the phrase I floated was this: "I wonder if doubt is the luxury of the privileged."

As someone who doubts a lot I know I'm on the wrong end of that assessment. And I don't know how far I'd push that sentiment. But it was the thought that came to mind. Take it for what it's worth.

My second example has to do with penal substitutionary atonement.

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I recently read this wonderful poem by Kay Ryan:

Things Shouldn't Be So Hard

A life should leave
deep tracks:
ruts where she
went out and back
to get the mail
or move the hose
around the yard;
where she used to
stand before the sink,
a worn-out place;
beneath her hand
the china knobs
rubbed down to
white pastilles;
the switch she
used to feel for
in the dark
almost erased.
Her things should
keep her marks.
The passage
of a life should show;
it should abrade.
And when life stops,
a certain space—
however small —
should be left scarred
by the grand and
damaging parade.
Things shouldn't
be so hard.

Ryan was our Poet Laureate from 2008 to 2010. This month Ryan's newest collection of poems entitled The Best of It is out in paperback (or Kindle).

A couple of years ago I was doing a lot of research on the theology Greek Orthodox iconography. That research ultimately led to a class I did at my church, the Highland Church of Christ. Some of that material can be found on my sidebar.

As a part of this class I sought the assistance of Fr. LeMasters, the priest of our local Orthodox church, St. Luke's. Accepting my invitation, Fr. LeMasters came to Highland one Wednesday night to kick off our study. I recall someone coming up to me that night at Highland and saying to me in a low voice, "There is a priest in the atrium. Do you know why a priest is here?" Fr. LeMasters had worn his black clerical clothing with his collar. I just smiled and said, "Oh, that must be Fr. LeMasters! He's here to teach our class tonight on Orthodox iconography."

You just don't hear that kind of stuff at a Church of Christ. But, then again, I tend to break the mold when it comes to our fellowship...

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As a part of the lively Internet discussion surrounding the publication of Rob Bell's Love Wins, I started a series of posts entitled "Musings about Universalism." There were ten essays in all, most of which were focused on a Frequently Asked Question about the doctrine of universal reconciliation. I'd like to gather all ten essays into one location so that I can archive the posts on my sidebar and allow others to link interested parties to this page rather than having readers dig through the blog archives.

As I expect this post to have a long shelf life, and to set the mood, readers who missed it might like to start with the provocative Love Wins video that stirred up so much discussion on the Internet prior to the publication of the book:

LOVE WINS. from Rob Bell on Vimeo.

One clarification about my language below. "Universalism" is a vague and broad term. When I use the word "universalism" I'm referring to the Christian doctrine that "all things" will be reconciled to God through Christ so that God will be "all in all" (Col. 1.19-20; 1 Cor. 15.28).

Question 1:
How did you end up adopting the doctrine of universal reconciliation? And how does that doctrine relate to the Arminian and Calvinistic approaches?

Answer: I grew up in an Arminian tradition, believing that it was God's will to save all humanity. I've never wavered in that belief. Eventually, however, due to problems I had with free will, moral luck, and the death-centered nature of Arminian theology, I adopted a Calvinist belief--a strong view of God's Sovereignty. Those two beliefs--it is God's will to save everyone and, as Rob Bell puts it, "God gets what God wants"--combined to create a sort of theological version of 1 + 1 = 2 leading me to the doctrine of universal reconciliation.

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In my recent series on universalism we at times bumped up against the issue of human freedom and God's love. Specifically, I expressed concern about a view of God's love that stands back and lets humans be free. That is, it is often suggested that for God to be love God has to respect human freedom. And there are times in Rob Bell's book Love Wins where he makes this odd sort of claim.

Now, as I noted in my series I agree that God has to respect the volitional integrity of humanity. That is, God isn't going to force anyone to accept this love. So in this sense, yes, I agree with the notion that God isn't going to force people or push people into heaven against their wills.

But that is a far cry from saying that God is sitting on the sidelines and doing nothing. That is, there are times in Bell's Love Wins where God's love looks like walking away, or hand wringing on the sideline. That God's respect for human freedom means that God will do, well...nothing.

But it is my contention that God keeps after us. Wooing, correcting, educating, prompting, and even threatening at times. God doesn't leave me alone to "do what I want." Love isn't like that. God pursues us. God is the troubadour outside our window singing love songs. God is the parent always extending love to the runaway child. God is the prison chaplain who visits the murderer in the cell. God is always, always, always coming toward you. Yes, God respects your freedom. But God doesn't ever, ever stand on the sideline.

The #1 lesson I learned from reading George MacDonald is that the love of God is best expressed as the love of a parent. And that insight is the single greatest theological corrective I know of. Whenever I encounter a view of God I wonder about--"Is God like this?--my first question is always: Would I treat Brenden or Aidan this way?

I was reminded of all this reading a wonderful, poignant, and theologically profound reflection by Michelle on her blog Pondering Every Morsel. It's a story of a mother and a daughter with cerebral palsy. It's a story about God and humanity. It's a story about love and freedom.

If you didn’t already know, one of the exciting things going on here at ACU is our mobile computing initiative. The overarching thrust of the initiative has been the exploration of the impact of mobile computing technology upon the 21st Century classroom. As a part of that exploration all ACU students have iPhones. ACU has also done a lot of research on Web 2.0 computing (e.g., blogging) in the support of the classroom. You can read a lot more about ACU’s initiative and the associated research at the Connected site at ACU.

Anyway, while I applaud all the exciting work and research being done at ACU about mobile computing (e.g., iPhones) and Web 2.0 (social computing: blogs, Twitter, Facebook) one of the things I wish we would spend more time investigating is the relationship between Christian spirituality and mobile connectivity. There are a lot of universities, companies, and publishers who are looking at the relationship between mobile computing and learning. And I’m excited that ACU is a part of that conversation. But I’d also like us, given our Christian commitments, to be a leader in thinking about the relationship between iPhones and Christian spirituality.

For example, I think my essay How Facebook Killed the Church has been the most cited piece about these issues that has been written by an ACU faculty member. And yet, while that essay has sparked a great deal of conversation online, in church newsletters (translated into multiple languages), on the radio, and in magazines, the questions I raised in that essay haven’t really gained any notice or traction on the ACU campus.

Still, I think these issues about iPhones and spirituality are really, really important. So I’d like to announce, today, the launch of the iPhone and Spirituality Research Project (iSRP). iSRP has only two members—me and my dog Bandit—and our research budget is zero. So we won’t be getting into anything exotic. No big clinical trials or longitudinal studies. Just me, the blog, this laptop and…you.

After consulting with Bandit, we’ve decided that our first project here at iSRP will be titled the “iPhone and Asceticism Project.” (You’ll have noticed that I like to add the word “Project” to make things sound more official and think tank-ish. Try it out yourself at your place of work. Other words to experiment with are “Center,” “Institute” and “Research Group”). Anyway, we here at iSRP would like to invite you to participate in our inaugural study.

Here’s the research issue:

I’ve seen and heard of a lot of people who have given up some part of Web 2.0 for Lent. On Ash Wednesday Christians all over the world signed off on Twitter, or blogging, or Facebook for the Lenten season. “Goodbye! See you after Easter.” And in a related way we are also seeing the rise of the "Facebook fast" in Christian circles.

We here at iSRP are curious about this. Why did you give up Web 2.0 for Lent (or for a fast)? What were your motivations? Your concerns? Your hopes?

And how has it gone?

And even if you haven't give up Web 2.0 for Lent or gone on a Facebook fast feel free to weigh in. Do you wish you would have given up Web 2.0 for Lent? Do you feel the need for a Facebook fast? Why or why not? How has Web 2.0 affected your spirituality? For good or ill?

Finally, if you simply know of someone who has given up Web 2.0 for Lent or who has gone on a Facebook fast please send them this link to see if they might share their insights and experiences about these novel ascetic practices.

And in all seriousness, I really do want to do some research on this topic. Any comments here will be valuable in helping me "ballpark" the phenomenon and guide me as I think about constructing surveys or formulating preliminary hypotheses.

A big theme in my recent posts about universalism was that to understand the language of heaven and hell--God's punishment and God's grace--you need to understand the prophetic imagination. And the key insight is this: God's punishment is not opposed to God's grace. Too many Christians have a bifurcated view of God's punishment and God's grace, that it's an either/or. For many Christians you either get grace/heaven or you get punishment/hell. But you don't see this bifurcated view in the prophets.

For example, last night at the prison bible study I was reading this passage from the start of Isaiah 40:

Comfort, comfort my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received from the LORD’s hand
double for all her sins.

Now I ask you, where in Christian theology (as expressed from American pulpits) do we find anything that can make sense of these verses? Here we see God's grace ("Comfort, comfort my people...speak tenderly to Jerusalem") coming after Israel paying for her sins ("her hard service has been completed...her sin has been paid for"), twice over ("she has received from the Lord's hand double for all her sins"). The bifurcated theology of many Christian churches just can't compute the connection here between grace and punishment. True, you occasionally hear Christians say that God "chastises those He loves" but that is a far shadow from anyone claiming that a Christian could "pay for their sins" by undergoing a term of "hard service." And yet, this is routine language for the prophets. God's grace and punishment are not mutually exclusive. Punishment produces salvation.

And this impulse isn't exclusive to the Old Testament. In Romans 9-11 Paul is trying to wrestle with God's promises to Israel in the wake of her rejection of Jesus. Are the Gentiles, now, going to be the sole beneficiaries of God's grace in Christ? If so, that's perverse. Israel produced the Christ and then was promptly damned. Thanks God, really nice way to treat the "Chosen Ones." But in Chapter 9 Paul initially says that Israel can't complain much. God is Sovereign, so if God prepared Israel to be an "object of wrath prepared for destruction" then so be it. That's just the way that cookie crumbled. And yet, in Chapter 11 Paul eventually concludes that this time of hardening for Israel is necessary for the "fullness of the Gentiles" to come into the Kingdom. Israel is hardened for our benefit. So shouldn't Israel be rewarded rather than damned for this service? Paul, in an odd reversal, says, yes, Israel will be blessed. After the fullness (all?) of the Gentiles comes in, in some mysterious way, "all Israel will be saved." Again, this seems like an odd reversal as it seems, given the bifurcated thinking of most Christians, that being an "object of wrath prepared for destruction" and "all Israel will be saved" are mutually exclusive. It's got to be one or the other. But not if you've been steeped in the prophetic imagination. If you read the prophets and texts like Isaiah 40 you see this reversal all the time. A time of "hard service" to "pay for sin" is always followed by the words "Comfort, comfort my people..."

Let's end this series with some reflections on Christ, with a particular focus on the cross and atonement. Specifically, one criticism you often hear about universalism is that it throws away the cross. If everyone gets to heaven then why did Christ have to die?

So let's talk about that.

Why did Christ have to die?

Broadly speaking, there have been two approaches to understanding the atonement. Specifically, theologians talk about objective versus subjective theories of atonement. In objective theories of atonement Sin in an external predicament. That is, the problems associated with Sin are "out there," beyond the human agent. As a consequence, the "fix" has to be "out there" as well. Subjective theories of atonement suggest that the problem of Sin is on the "inside" of us. The "fix" in this case is to change, educate, and rehabilitate the human heart. As always, the bible points to both of these understandings but Christian denominations tend to privilege one sort of understanding over the other.

Continue reading...

Slow posting this week. I've been at a conference with six of my students who were presenting some of their research.

Katie, Micheal, and Megan presented their emoticon research. Specifically, they examined the perceived professionalism of emoticon usage in workplace (email) correspondence. Their main finding was that emoticon usage (the :-) smiley face) is perceived as less professional when used by subordinates in their communication with superiors. By contrast, superiors were given a pass with the :-) when communicating with subordinates. Hierarchy affected how emoticons were perceived. The :-) is the privilege of the powerful.

Holly, Kenyon, and Shannon presented their tattoo research. Their focus was on perceptions of professionalism related to clergy with tattoos. They manipulated two variables, the location of the tattoo (visible versus non-visible) and the content (a Christian cross versus a star). They found that while there is a growing acceptance of tattoos among Christian groups (what I called "existential tattoos" in my prior post), their Christian participants preferred the non-visible cross among all the combinations. That is, it seems that they wanted the tattoos on clergy to be spiritual and private rather than non-spiritual and public.

Both groups did a great job presenting, and got lots of positive feedback. As a teacher I get no greater thrill than watching my students present with joy and confidence at professional conferences. Tonight on the walk to dinner Shannon said to me, "I think I really like research."

That really warms my heart.

I've also had a blast with my colleagues David, John and Cherisse who brought their own students to the conference. All of us, along with two of our graduate students, Andrea and Belinda, presented papers in a symposium on Christian aesthetics and reactions to transgressive art. Tonight poor John and Cherisse had to listen to me go on and on about Girardian scapegoating theory during the walk back to the hotel after dinner. They are patient and long-suffering souls...

When I was in college I read the Little Flowers of St. Francis and was bowled over. I've been a fan of St. Francis ever since. Seriously, I'm daily tempted to preach to the birds, to try to convert stray dogs, and to chat with Brother Sun and Sister Moon. I've got a St. Francis figure on my night stand when I go to sleep and one on my office desk when I go to work. And I wear a St. Francis medallion around my neck. These images remind me to receive everything around me, from people to the natural world, as an occasion of joy. Just like Francis did.

So at the Prison bible study this week I shared (of course) my favorite prayer, the one attributed to St. Francis. Many of the men in the study had never heard the prayer or of St. Francis. So I began regaling them with tales of St. Francis preaching to the birds or converting the wolf of Gubbio. After the study many of the men asked me for copies of St. Francis' prayer. So I'll be making about 50 copies of the prayer this week.

Of course, you all know this prayer. I try to pray it everyday:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

One of the things my small group from church has done during the Lenten and Easter season is to celebrate Passover with a Seder meal. Generally, we've used a Christianized Haggadah connecting Jesus to the Passover lamb. It's interesting, in this regard, how the gospel of John arranges the chronology of the Passion week to have Jesus crucified at the exact hour when the passover lambs were being slaughtered on the Day of Preparation before the Passover. In this, Jesus is seen as "the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world."

(Fun Fact: The Synoptic gospels--Matthew, Mark, and Luke--have the Passover synced with Jesus eating the Last Supper with this disciples. The disagreement between John's placement of the Passover--Jesus on the cross when the paschal lambs were being slaughtered--and the Synoptic placement--the Eucharist as the new "Passover" meal--has, as you might suspect, being a subject of much discussion and debate.)

Anyway, my small group has been talking about the Haggadah we might use, Jewish or Christian, and I've been comparing and contrasting. So I was wondering, does anyone have a Haggadah they have used, online or print, that they have enjoyed? And why?

Second question for any Jewish readers: I'm curious about your take about Christians celebrating Passover. How is this viewed in Jewish communities? Is it a compliment, a sign of rapprochement? Or is it seen as seen as co-opting and a distortion? Do you think it's nice or mildly insulting?

Over the years I've gotten a few emails from working missionaries who have read my thoughts about universalism wanting to know how I reconcile my belief in universal reconciliation with Christian missionary work and evangelism.

So let's talk about that.

But before getting into those issues, let me point you to Brad East's post Reflections on Universalism: Hermeneutics and Proclamation as his thoughts are relevant to any discussion of universalism and evangelism. Brad is specifically wrestling with the question about if universalism should be the overt proclamation of the church. I urge you to engage with his post and reflections.

For my own part, I believe Christian mission and evangelism is simply this: Proclaiming and participating in the Reign (basileia, "rule", "reign", "kingdom") of God that has broken into the world through the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus. This is "the good news": the victory over sin and death, the abundant life Jesus promised, and the gift of the Indwelling Spirit are available...today. We do not need to delay gratification, awaiting some far off heaven in the sweet by and by. God's life is available right now.

So any urgency in Christian mission is the urgency of joy. It is not the urgency of doom and gloom. The urgency of turn or burn. The urgency of fear.

It is, rather, the urgency that the eschatological wedding banquet is in full swing and you're missing out.

Continue reading...

I don't want to turn this blog into one big promotional tool for my new book. I think the book is really interesting (I know of no other book quite like it in either theology or psychology), but you don't really want me talking about it every week. So I'll try to keep book-pushing to a minimum.

But I did want to point out that Unclean is now listed at Amazon. However, I still think, given the promotional code for readers of this blog, the best price today is from Wipf & Stock. And I also think they can ship sooner than the 3-4 weeks listed at Amazon.

So why point out the Amazon listing? Simply because the "Look Inside" feature at Amazon will allow you to peak inside the book, giving prospective readers a chance to look at the Table of Contents and parts of chapters.

So, perhaps browse the book at Amazon and buy using the promotional code at Wipf & Stock.

And that's enough book talk for now. Back to our regular scheduled programming.

...it's Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week: From the Entrance Into Jerusalem To The Resurrection by Pope Benedict XVI.

Despite his some of his flaws and mistakes, I'd always heard that Benedict XVI is one of the best theologians working in the world today. Which makes sense given that Ratzinger was an academic and leading German theologian prior to becoming Benedict XVI. Knowing that, and wanting to find a book to read for Lenten meditations, I picked up the Pope's new book.

And it's really good. A nice balance between the popular and the scholarly, the historical-critical and the theological, the academic and the pastoral. If you are looking for something to read for Lent and Easter this would be a good choice.

And speaking of springtime and Easter, I think the eggs and baby birds are in their nests. I'm sitting in the backyard right now reading the Pope's book while watching two blue jays dive bomb a squirrel trying to climb their tree. The birds are winning.

I can only imagine they are protecting something precious higher up among the branches...