Cheap Praise and Costly Praise

One of the more popular devotional/praise songs when I was in college, and one still used on our campus, was "The Steadfast Love of the Lord Never Ceases." The lyrics:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.
His mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning.
Great is your faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion says my soul.
Therefore I will hope in Him.
The lyrics come from Lamentations 3.22-24 (the exact wording is from the ESV). It's a great song but I have some problems with how we sing it. Specifically, the song is taken out of context.

What is missing when this song is sung is Lamentations 3.1-21, all the verses leading up to this outpouring of praise. These verses are critical if we are to properly understand the sort of faith being expressed in verses 22-24.

Here are verses 1-21 (NLT). They are an extraordinarily raw and heart wrenching expression of lament and accusation:
I am the one who has seen the afflictions
that come from the rod of the Lord’s anger.
He has led me into darkness,
shutting out all light.
He has turned his hand against me
again and again, all day long.

He has made my skin and flesh grow old.
He has broken my bones.
He has besieged and surrounded me
with anguish and distress.
He has buried me in a dark place,
like those long dead.

He has walled me in, and I cannot escape.
He has bound me in heavy chains.
And though I cry and shout,
he has shut out my prayers.
He has blocked my way with a high stone wall;
he has made my road crooked.

He has hidden like a bear or a lion,
waiting to attack me.
He has dragged me off the path and torn me in pieces,
leaving me helpless and devastated.
He has drawn his bow
and made me the target for his arrows.

He shot his arrows
deep into my heart.
My own people laugh at me.
All day long they sing their mocking songs.
He has filled me with bitterness
and given me a bitter cup of sorrow to drink.

He has made me chew on gravel.
He has rolled me in the dust.
Peace has been stripped away,
and I have forgotten what prosperity is.
I cry out, “My splendor is gone!
Everything I had hoped for from the Lord is lost!”

The thought of my suffering and homelessness
is bitter beyond words.
I will never forget this awful time,
as I grieve over my loss.
Yet I still dare to hope
when I remember this:
And it is here, at this moment, where, inexplicably, the song of praise breaks out:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.
His mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning.
Great is your faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion says my soul.
Therefore I will hope in Him.
Now here's what I want to ask you. Isn't it cheating a bit to jump to verse 22 without first singing verses 1-21? And yet, that's what we do in worship. We skip to verse 22. Literally and metaphorically. Skipping over the lament we jump straight into the praise. We skip over the brokenness. The sorrow. The tears. The grief. The despair. The anger. The pain. The doubt. The god-forsakenness.

We skip over it all and start worship at verse 22.

And what sort of spirituality does that create? Answer: It creates a false, cotton-candy sort of spirituality. A spirituality that wants to jump to the happy ending without the dark and painful journey of lament. It makes me think of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's distinction between Cheap Grace and Costly Grace. I wonder if we should start talking about Cheap Praise and Costly Praise.

Cheap Praise starts with verse 22. Costly Praise starts with verse 1.

To be clear, I'm not saying that we shouldn't sing verses 22-24. I'm just saying it's cheap to skip ahead. Skipping ahead you skip over the experience where God is a wild animal who drags you off the path and tears you to pieces, leaving you bloody and broken. Skipping ahead you skip over the experience where God stands you up against the wall and uses you for target practice, shooting his arrows deep into your heart.

If we start the song, as we often do, with verse 22 we get one sort of spirituality. A spirituality of cheap praise. But if we start the song in verse 1 we get something very different, costly praise. A praise that is hard-won, honest, and truthful.

And it all boils down to where you start the song.

Cookie Cutting the Bible: A Case Study of the Word "Righteous"

One of the interesting things about the bible is that it defies theological systematization. The bible is unruly and messy. And for some, this multivocality (which many take to be a euphemism for inconsistency and incoherence) is damning, marking the bible as an error-filled and wholly human product.

I get that. There is nothing more disorienting than growing up as a fundamentalist and encountering multivocality and discrepancies in the biblical text. This is a well worn path--disillusionment with biblical literalism--from belief to unbelief.

But while I appreciate these struggles, and struggle with them myself, there are times when I really enjoy the zany inconsistency of the bible. I enjoy the fact that it often feels like we are trying to stuff a thunderstorm into a bottle. What I love (and hate if I'm honest) about the bible is how, just when you've got something figured out, there is a chorus of voices within the text that resists what you've just created--your simplification, codification, and systematization. There's a reason, for example, why Calvinists and Arminians will never agree. They each sit on opposite ends of one of these perennial tensions.

All this struck me the other day thinking about how a lot of Church folk use the word "righteous." Specifically, they are not using the word in a biblical way. Rather, they are using the word as a theological term. A fully biblical usage leaves words messy and imprecise. But used theologically and doctrinally these words become clean, clinical, and precise. The word "righteous" in this instance is just a cog in a theological machine.

For example, when many Christians use the word "righteous" they don't have the biblical usage in mind. Because the biblical usage is all over the place. Rather, their use of the word "righteous" is governed by how the word functions in a made-man system that is imposed upon the bible. And when this man-made system is imposed on the bible a lot of the unruly stuff in the biblical text is cut out, marginalized, and left to the side.

Think of man-made doctrinal systems as a cookie cutter and the bible as the cookie dough.

What this means is that when people use a word like "righteous" they are using the cookie cutter version of the word, not the cookie dough version of the word, the biblical version of the word. That is to say, when people use doctrinal terms they are pushing a lot of biblical material to the side, ignoring a lot of the biblical material that doesn't fit into the shape of the cookie cutter system.

Let me illustrate this. One cookie cutter use of the word "righteous" is to claim that righteousness is imputed by God and has nothing to do with human moral effort. We all know passages, most of them in Romans, where Paul uses the word righteous in this way. But that cookie cutter use of the word leaves a lot of cookie dough on the cutting board. Some examples:

Matthew 25.45-46
“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

“Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.
Matthew 25 is a great example of how the righteous are defined as those who care for the poor and needy and, thus, are the ones who inherit eternal life.

Here are some examples of personal piety earning you the label righteous:
Mark 6.20a
Herod feared John and protected him, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man.

Luke 1.5-6
In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly.

Luke 2.25
Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him.
This passage in Luke is a nice parallel of Matthew 25 where welcoming the poor is "repaid at the resurrection of the righteous":
Luke 14.13-15
"But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
Here's a curious passage in Romans, of all places, about righteousness being connected to moral effort:
Romans 2.6-13
God “will repay each person according to what they have done.” To those who by persistence in doing good seek glory, honor and immortality, he will give eternal life. But for those who are self-seeking and who reject the truth and follow evil, there will be wrath and anger. There will be trouble and distress for every human being who does evil: first for the Jew, then for the Gentile; but glory, honor and peace for everyone who does good: first for the Jew, then for the Gentile. For God does not show favoritism.

All who sin apart from the law will also perish apart from the law, and all who sin under the law will be judged by the law. For it is not those who hear the law who are righteous in God’s sight, but it is those who obey the law who will be declared righteous.
Speaking of Romans, just when you think you've got the mantra "by faith alone" down you run into Martin Luther's letter of straw.
James 2.24
You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.
Following James, you can't get any more clear on the relationship between actually doing right and being righteous than the words of the Beloved Apostle:
1 John 3.7
Dear children, do not let anyone lead you astray. The one who does what is right is righteous, just as he is righteous.
If John is to be believed then there's been a whole lot of deceiving going on! When was the last time you've heard it preached from the pulpit: "Let there be no mistake, dear congregation, it is only the one who does what is right who is righteous." Personally, I think we need some sermons like this. I agree with St. John. Christians are being lead astray.

Finally, just when you hear a great sermon on how all our good works are filthy rags that we need to take off so we can be clothed in Christ...
Revelation 19.8
"Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.” (Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of God’s holy people.)
D'oh!

"Love is the Expansion of the Self"

Thanks to Timothy for sending me this video, a clip for an upcoming documentary about the Occupy Wall Street movement.

I expect many here will have a variety of opinions about the OWS movement. I'd like to bracket those issues (pipe dream!) and simply say that I resonated a great deal with the theology of this particular video. I think it expresses a lot of insight into the Principalities and Powers. This isn't to say capitalism and market economies are evil, just that they are as fallen and prone to the forces of dehumanization as all institutions in the Fall. Satan is ruling capitalism as surely as he is ruling the other Principalities and Powers. The key is resistance to the forces of dehumanization. To, in the words of William Stringfellow, live humanely within the fall. It's that expression of humanity, that desire to humanize modern economies, that attracts me to the video.

Besides, the phrase in the video "love is the expansion of the self" could have come right out of Unclean...



BTW, has anyone read Eisenstein's book Sacred Economies?

We Weren't as Good as the Muppets...

Our church has being doing a series entitled "I am Highland" which introduces one of our members and shares a bit about their ministry and journey with the church. You can watch these at Highland's site on Vimeo.

Anyhow, here was the "I am Highland" video from this week:

Daniel the Puppet - I am Highland from Highland Church on Vimeo.

BTW, regular readers know why Daniel doesn't play Jesus at Highland. It's because that role is already taken. For your information Daniel, I'm the one who plays Jesus at Highland.

Anyway, I loved Daniel's "I am Highland" video. It was very nostalgic for me.

If you didn't grow up going to church you may be unaware about just how much Christians are into puppetry. Puppets are huge with Christians. For example, puppets make it in at #123 on the list of Stuff Christians Like.

Puppets at my church mainly showed up during Vacation Bible School. I have fond memories of this as the High School students were in charge of the puppets for VBS. So as a teen I got pretty good at puppetry. I was aided in this by the fact that as a child I lived through the Golden Age of Puppets in the US. During my formative years Jim Henson made puppets mainstream, taking his creations from Sesame Street to primetime TV with The Muppet Show (the show debuted in 1976 and ran until 1981). In fact, this Thanksgiving weekend the Muppets are making a bit of a comeback with a new movie--The Muppets.

So as a kid I imbibed--from Sesame Street to The Muppet Show--a lot of good puppetry. Thus, when I became a senior I felt well prepared to be the teen in charge of the VBS puppets. And this being my last time with the puppets as a part of the youth group, I decided to raise the bar.

It ended up being a bit of a disaster.

For starters, I went a bit crazy with the scripts. Back then you couldn't (or at least we didn't) buy canned puppet scripts for VBS. You had to write your own. You'd look at the themes each night and try to write a little situational sketch with the puppets to illustrate that evening's message. I went a bit overboard with this, writing overly long (sort of like my blog posts) scenes aiming, in my own mind, at the VBS equivalent of an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay.

The other problem was that, due to the complexity of the skits I wrote, I needed a lot of scene changes. That's right, I needed scene changes. No plain black background for me. Amazingly, I convinced our youth group to come to the church on weekends to paint backdrops for the puppets. I'd convinced them that all this work was going to be worth it. We were going to have the best VBS puppets our church had ever seen!

So we painted. And rehearsed. Watch out Jim Henson.

It all came to a humbling end when, on the first night, we were doing a skit to illustrate the theme "Jesus is our Savior." The scene I wrote had the puppets out on a boat on a sunny day. Things are looking good until the clouds darken and a storm blows in. (Scene change!) The waves get higher and one of the puppets is pitched out of the boat and begins to drown.

If I recall, the puppet gets pitched out of the boat because of a lighting strike. We had this big cardboard lighting bolt attached to a clothes hanger.

This is all very exciting isn't it?

Anyway, the puppets in the boat find a life preserver and throw it to the drowning puppet. After much effort and drama, they pull him back onboard. He's saved! At this point the clouds break and the sun returns. (Scene change!) Back under sunny skies the puppets discuss the rescue and make the observation that Jesus is...wait for it, wait for it...just like a life preserver!

Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is a damn fine puppet script.

Anyway, things don't go as planed. The scene changes involved pulling a string to get the painted fabric pulled up and over the 2x4 board above us. During the first scene change the fabric got caught and wouldn't move. So we tugged and tugged, eventually pulling the board onto our heads. Crash!

I think some of my friends actually did get whacked pretty good as our hands were occupied, being inserted into puppets as they were and thus unavailable to ward off the blow. The song leader rushed to our aid and helped pull the board and all that painstakingly painted scenery off of us.

Needles to say, the kids just loved it. Roaring with laughter through the entire mishap. The incident is now a part of church lore as the day-the-puppets-pulled-the-scenery-on-top-of-their-heads story.

And so ended my puppet career.

At the time, I felt like such an idiot. But now, looking back, I have such fond memories. I loved those puppets. So many warm memories of friends (we are all grown with kids of our own now) kneeling behind the puppet theater, arms aloft, scripts taped to the boards in front of us, making magic like Kermit the Frog.

We weren't as good as the Muppets, but we made the kids laugh. And that's what I remember most of all.

Streaming 2012: "I Desire Mercy, Not Sacrifice."

I mentioned a few months ago that I'll be presenting with Walter Brueggemann during Streaming at Rochester College this June 18-20 on the theme "I Desire Mercy, Not Sacrifice."

I've cut a few promo videos for Streaming. In this one I talk about how Dr. Brueggemann's discussions regarding the tensions between the Levitcal and prophetic traditions in the life of Israel helped trigger some of the points made in my book Unclean:



It's an honor, to say the least, to have someone like Walter Brueggemann read your book and comment on how much he learned from it. A few weeks ago I was also surprised and humbled to get a note from Stanley Hauerwas complimenting the book. Dr. Hauerwas specifically commented on how helpful the book is in thinking through how the church treats the mentally ill and disabled, a subject of interest to him (and me--shoot, I bet we're all interested in the how the church treats all sorts of people).

Unclean is a book about the choices facing the church in how it treats people. And those choices aren't easy. So I'm looking forward to thinking through those dynamics this June at Streaming with Walter Brueggemann and others interested in missional leadership. Hope to see you there!

On Heretics & Disagreement

We muzzle dogs; shall we leave men free to open their mouths and say what they please?...God makes it plain that the false prophet is to be stoned without mercy. We are to crush beneath our heels all natural affections when his honour is at stake. The father should not spare his child, nor the husband his wife, nor the friend that friend who is dearer to him than life.
--John Calvin, Protestant Reformer and Father of Calvinism (1509-1564)
Calvin says that he is certain, and [other sects] say that they are; Calvin says that they are wrong and wishes to judge them, and so do they. Who shall be judge? What made Calvin the arbiter of all the sects, that he alone should kill? He has the Word of God and so have they. If the matter is certain, to who is it so? To Calvin? But then why does he write so many books about manifest truth?...In view of the uncertainty we must define the heretic simply as one with whom we disagree. And if then we are going to kill heretics, the logical outcome will be a war of extermination, since each is sure of himself.
--Sebastian Castellio, French theologian (1515-1563)

Love Wins: Part 8, The Good News Is Better Than That

Chapter 7 of Love Wins is entitled "The Good News is Better Than That."

A big theme in this chapter, and the part I like the best, has to do with our image of God. What is God like?

I think Bell is right. This is the question beneath all the other questions. This debate isn't really about heaven or hell. This debate isn't really about limited or universal reconciliation. No, at the end of the day, when we finally get down to the bottom of the barrel, there's a single question underneath them all.

What is God like?

I've seen this play out in so many different forums. As have you. We like to think we are talking about the bible or doctrine or tradition but what we're really debating is rival visions of God.

And, according to Bell, a toxic vision of God is why many ultimately reject Christianity. A view of God who, on the one hand, "loves" you but who, on the other hand, will torture you for all eternity in hell. Bell on this point:

Does God become somebody totally different the moment you die?

That kind of God is simply devastating.
Psychologically crushing.
We can't bear it.
No one can.

And that is the secret deep in the heart of many people, especially Christians: they don't love God. They can't, because the God they've been presented with and taught about can't be loved. That God is terrifying and traumatizing and unbearable.

And so there are conferences about how churches can be more "relevant" and "missional" and "welcoming," and there are vast resources, many, many books and films, for those who want to "reach out" and "connect" and "build relationships" with people who aren't part of the church. And that can be helpful. But at the heart of it, we have to ask: Just what kind of God is behind all this?

Because if something is wrong with your God,
if your God is loving one second and cruel the next,
if you God will punish people for all eternity for sins committed in a few short years,
no amount of clever marketing
or compelling language
or good music
or great coffee
will be able to disguise
that one, true, glaring, untenable, unacceptable, awful reality.
Here's my take on this. And this might offend some people. But this is what I think. I think if you've really thought about hell--and I mean really thought about it--you have some serious reservations about attributing that vision to God. I'm not saying you are a universalist, just that you'll get where universalism is coming from. You might be an annihilationist, or a conditionalist, or a hopeful universalist, or simply a traditionalist who has some doubts. But at the end of the day we are all wrestling with the same thing. We are all struggling with a vision of eternal torture and the confession that God is love. And the two don't fit.

And if you don't get this, aren't at least sympathetic to the impulse behind a book like Love Wins, then I don't know what to say. There isn't much to say. Our sensibilities are too different. Worlds apart in my experience. And while that might sound defeatist, believe me, I've been around this block a few times.

When I think of hell, in all its glory, I have an experience of such overwhelming grief, horror and sadness that theological conversation is just halted. Words fail me. And if you keep talking I can't go on with you. I've stopped. I can't continue. And if you ask what's wrong, all I can do is walk you back to edge of the abyss. To have you look again. To look harder. To look again at all that pain. To hear those screams. And to know, with icy dread, that it will never, never, never end.

At the edge of that abyss I fail. My heart stops. And I have nothing else to say.

Love and Ever More Love: The Life and Times of Dorothy Day

The last few months I've been reading selections from Robert Elisberg's Dorothy Day: Selected Writings. In September I shared with you a wonderful quote from this volume:

Even the best of human love is filled with self-seeking. To work to increase our love for God and for our fellow man (and the two must go hand in hand), this is a lifetime job. We are never going to be finished.

Love and ever more love is the only solution to every problem that comes up. If we love each other enough, we will bear each other's faults and burdens. If we love enough, we are going to light that fire in the hearts of others. And it is love that will burn out the sins and hatreds that sadden us. It is love that will make us want to do great things for each other. No sacrifice and no suffering will then seem too much.

Yes, I see only too clearly how bad people are. I wish I did not see it so. It is my own sins that give me such clarity. If I did not bear the scars of so many sins to dim my sight and dull my capacity for love and joy, then I would see Christ more clearly in you all.

I cannot worry much about your sins and miseries when I have so many of my own. I can only love you all, poor fellow travelers, fellow sufferers. I do not want to add one least straw to the burden you already carry. My prayer from day to day is that God will so enlarge my heart that I will see you all, and live with you all, in His love.
Reading through Dorothy Day's writing made me interested in her story. Her early days as a radical bohemian journalist. Her conversion to Catholicism. Her fateful meeting with Peter Maurin (whose dream it was to make the world a place "where it would be easier to be good"). The start of The Catholic Worker. The beginning of the Houses of Hospitality. Her activism. (The picture here is of the last time Dorothy was arrested in 1973. She was 76 years old. Quite a grandma.)

Given my recent immersion into the life and times of Dorothy Day, I thought I'd take a post to recommend a good starting place for those wanting to become more acquainted with her. Specifically, after having looked at a few biographies of Day (outside of her own autobiography The Long Loneliness) let me recommend Jim Forest's All Is Grace: A Biography of Dorothy Day. Forest's biography isn't magisterial, lyrical, or definitive. But it is well-done, short, and written by someone who knew and worked with Dorothy. What really recommends Forest's biography is that is it packed full of pictures and quotations from Dorothy Day. I found the cumulative effect of pictures, biography, and selections of Day's own words to be quite powerful. In short, if you want to get a start on the life and thought of Dorothy Day I'd begin with All is Grace and Selected Writings.

(However, if you have only two hours to spend on this you could try the bio-pic Entertaining Angels, with Moira Kelly playing Day and Martin Sheen playing Peter Maurin. Though there are things to quibble with in the movie it'll make you interested in Dorothy Day.)

The New Manna

Let me recommend to you Brant Pitre's new book Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist. The book is just jam-packed with insights. I want to share one of those insights with you and then connect Pitre's Catholic analysis with a more Protestant understanding.

As noted in my last post, there are a variety of New Exodus themes in the life and teachings of Jesus. That is, in light of the prophecy of Deuteronomy 18:15-18, Jesus suggests in various places that he is the one Moses foretold--a second Moses leading a New Exodus.

As described in the last post there were a variety of things that were expected to accompany this second Moses--a New Exodus, a New Passover, a New Law, a New Covenant, a New Tabernacle, and a New Promised Land.

And along with all this there was also the expectation that the Exodus miracles would return with the second Moses. And one of these was the return of manna.

You'll recall the original manna story:

Exodus 16.4-5, 11-15
Then the LORD said to Moses, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions. On the sixth day they are to prepare what they bring in, and that is to be twice as much as they gather on the other days.”

The LORD said to Moses, “I have heard the grumbling of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the LORD your God.’”

That evening quail came and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was.

Moses said to them, “It is the bread the LORD has given you to eat."
"What is it?" As Pitre recounts, there was actually a great deal of rabbinic speculation regarding that question. And the bible gives some clues. For example, the manna "tasted like honey" (Ex. 16.31) suggesting that the manna was a foretaste of the Promised Land, a land "flowing with milk and honey" (Ex. 3.8). Supporting this association, that manna was Exodus food, is the fact that the day the Israelites began to eat the food of Canaan the manna stopped:
Joshua 5.10-12
On the evening of the fourteenth day of the month, while camped at Gilgal on the plains of Jericho, the Israelites celebrated the Passover. The day after the Passover, that very day, they ate some of the produce of the land: unleavened bread and roasted grain. The manna stopped the day after they ate this food from the land; there was no longer any manna for the Israelites, but that year they ate the produce of Canaan.
Manna is the food of travelers and sojourners, the bread eaten between Egypt and Canaan, between Liberation and Consummation.

More, manna is bread from heaven. Manna is supernatural, the food of angels:
Psalm 78.23-25
Yet he gave a command to the skies above
and opened the doors of the heavens;
he rained down manna for the people to eat,
he gave them the grain of heaven.
Human beings ate the bread of angels;
he sent them all the food they could eat.
In light of the New Exodus expectations, the Second Temple Jews believed that one of the signs of the Messiah, the second Moses, would be the return of manna, the "bread from heaven." Given that expectation, and that in various places Jesus hints at being the second Moses, we can ask: Did Jesus ever speak of the return of manna?

Pitre argues that we find one reference to manna smack in the middle of the Lord's Prayer:
Give us this day our daily bread.
The echo of manna should be obvious in the phrase "give us this day." As you know, manna was collected each day and not kept over for the next. So the frame here in the Lord's Prayer is a New Exodus frame. And according to Pitre there is more.

You'll have noticed a repetition in the prayer: a mention of "day" and "daily." In the Greek these aren't the same word. The first occurrence is the word we all know as "day." But the second word, translated as "daily," is a bit of a mystery.

The word in question is a neologism and it occurs nowhere else in the bible or in antiquity. This is the only time the word is used which makes it hard to know its meaning. The word is epiousios:
Give us this day our epiousios bread.
What does epiousios mean? Opinions differ. Ousia means "existence," "being," or "nature." Thus, some translate "epiousios bread" as the "bread we need for being/existence." But Pitre points out that the prefix epi means "on," "upon," or "above." Thus he argues that the better translation of "epiousios bread" is the "bread above nature/existence." In short, "epiousios bread" is supernatural bread or heavenly bread--the manna spoken of in Psalm 78. In light of this, we could translate the Lord's Prayer like this:
Give us this day our heavenly bread.
Or, if you want to convey the New Exodus motif directly:
Give us this day our manna.
In this translation the Lord's Prayer become an Exodus prayer for a people liberated from bondage and journeying to the Promised Land. It is a prayer for manna, for supernatural sustenance during the journey. It is a prayer for those who have been set free from slavery but who have yet to reach the New Heaven and the New Earth, the land flowing with milk and honey.

While some may question this interpretation of the Lord's Prayer, we are aware of a more explicit discussion of Jesus and the new manna in the gospels: Jesus' Bread of Life discourse.
John 6:30-35
So they asked him, “What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written: ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’”

Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

“Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.”

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty."
We see the New Exodus expectation voiced by the people: If Jesus is the Messiah, the second Moses, then where is the manna? (You can almost here Jerry Maguire saying "Show me the manna!") Jesus responds with "I am the bread of life." A few verses later Jesus makes the association with manna more explicit: He is "the bread of heaven."
John 6.48-51a
I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven.
There it is. Jesus himself is the new manna. Jesus is the bread that sustains the Exodus community. And if we read this back into the Lord's Prayer we might translate it like this:
Give us Christ this day.
Which makes me think of St. Patrick's Prayer:
Christ shield me today

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
To return to Pitre, note that he is a Catholic scholar. Consequently, when he reads "I am the bread of heaven" he thinks of the Eucharist, of Christ being actually, if miraculously, present in the bread of the Eucharist. In this reading the Eucharist is the manna, the actual body and blood of Jesus. This reading is supported by the final part of the Bread of Life discourse:
John 6.51b-58
"Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

Then the Jews began to argue sharply among themselves, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.
As Pitre rightly points out, Catholic theology, with its doctrine of transubstantiation, is well positioned to interpret this text, and even more so in light of the new manna theme. The actual body and blood of Jesus is present in the Eucharist. Immanuel, God physically with us in the Eucharist, sustaining us as manna on our Exodus journey. And like we saw with the Israelites, the presence of Christ in Eucharist tastes like honey, it's a foretaste of heaven. The Eucharist is our daily manna, our taste of Christ, until we reach the Promised Land.

I admit, that argument is the most attractive argument for transubstantiation I've ever heard. The Eucharist, Christ's mystical presence among us, as manna--the bread of heaven that daily sustains the church on her journey to the Promised Land.

That said, I don't think Protestants are excluded from this understanding. Though we don't believe that the bread and wine become the actual body and blood of Jesus, we do believe that when two or more are gathered in Jesus's name Christ is present amongst us. And thinking along these lines we might move Pitre's analysis in this more "Protestant" direction.

Specifically, where is the body of Christ? Is it found in the mystical doctrines of transubstantiation? Or in the koinonia of those gathered in the name of Jesus? True, it's not an either/or. But if the "body of Christ" can be associated with koinonia, if Christ is with us in the mutual love we share, then might not the corporate body of Christ be the new manna? Might manna look like this:
Acts 4.32-35
All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need.
Might our mutual love be our manna, the "bread of heaven" that sustains us on our journey to the Promised Land?

The Second Moses

If you've been following a lot of the New Testament scholarship you're aware of the wealth of insights pouring in over the last few decades regarding New Exodus perspectives on the life and teachings of Jesus. I want to share something along these lines from the new book by Brant Pitre Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist. But before doing that in the next post, I thought I'd use a post to summarize some of the New Exodus ideas.

To start, what were the Jews expecting of the Messiah?

If you quizzed people in your church about that question my guess is that the #1 answer would be that the Messiah would lead a popular revolt to eject the Romans and restore the Davidic kingdom. To be sure, this was a part of the constellation of ideas surrounding the concept of Messiah. But the expectations regarding the Messiah were actually much richer and broader, more inclusive and even cosmic in scale.

One of the notions that captures this richer vision was the expectation that the Messiah would be a Second Moses. Moses himself predicted that a Second Moses would come with the expectation of a New Exodus. Consequently, many of the Second Temple Jews believed the Messiah to be the fulfillment of this prophecy:

Deuteronomy 18:15-18
The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your fellow Israelites. You must listen to him. For this is what you asked of the LORD your God at Horeb on the day of the assembly when you said, “Let us not hear the voice of the LORD our God nor see this great fire anymore, or we will die.”

The LORD said to me: “What they say is good. I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth. He will tell them everything I command him.
As a Second Moses leading a New Exodus the expectation was that there also would be a second giving of the Law. A New Law and New Covenant. More, this New Law would be written on hearts rather than on tablets of stone:
Jeremiah 31:31-33
“The days are coming,” declares the LORD,
“when I will make a new covenant
with the people of Israel
and with the people of Judah.
It will not be like the covenant
I made with their ancestors
when I took them by the hand
to lead them out of Egypt,
because they broke my covenant,
though I was a husband to them,”
declares the LORD.

“This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel
after that time,” declares the LORD.
I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people."
In addition, there would be a New Temple. We need to recall that a lot of the Second Temple Jews thought that the rebuilt temple was a bit of a sham. You'll likely remember that when the old-timers saw the Second Temple they wept, for it was only a shadow of its former glory. We should also remember that after the destruction of Solomon's temple the artifacts in the Holy of Holies (like the Ark of the Covenant) were carted off never to be seen or heard from again (until Indiana Jones found them). So in the time of Jesus the Holy of Holies was empty, suggesting that the Shekhinah of God had not returned to dwell among the people. So God was absent. The people were still in exile, despite being back in their homeland. Thus, the expectation was that the Second Moses, who built the tabernacle, the first dwelling for God's Shekhinah, would repeat this feat, building a New Temple that would bring God's dwelling back to earth.
Ezekiel 37:25-28
They will live in the land I gave to my servant Jacob, the land where your ancestors lived. They and their children and their children’s children will live there forever, and David my servant will be their prince forever. I will make a covenant of peace with them; it will be an everlasting covenant. I will establish them and increase their numbers, and I will put my sanctuary among them forever. My dwelling place will be with them; I will be their God, and they will be my people. Then the nations will know that I the LORD make Israel holy, when my sanctuary is among them forever.’”
Even more, in addition to a New Law/Covenant and a New Tabernacle/Temple, the Second Moses would bring the people to a New Promised Land. And here's where the vision really starts to transcend the political. The New Promised Land isn't just about restoring the fortunes of Israel. The scale of the New Promised Land is cosmic in scope. It will be a New Heaven and a New Earth:
Isaiah 65:17-18
“See, I will create
new heavens and a new earth.
The former things will not be remembered,
nor will they come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I will create,
for I will create Jerusalem to be a delight
and its people a joy.
Finally, if there was to be a Second Exodus we'd also expect to see a New Passover meal. Though there is no direct biblical quotation for this it's clear how a New Passover would have been expected in conjunction with a Second Moses and New Exodus. Outside of the bible there is historical evidence, from both Jewish and Christian sources, that the Second Temple Jews were looking for a New Passover, what they called the Passover of the Messiah. (In fact, many Second Temple Jews expected the future Messiah to be revealed during the Passover.)

Summarizing all this:
The Jewish Expectation of the Messiah as the Second Moses:
  1. New Exodus
  2. New Law and Covenant
  3. New Passover
  4. New Temple
  5. New Promised Land
Given these expectations, the question readers of the New Testament can ask is this: Did Jesus consider himself to be the Second Moses?

Do the New Testament writers show Jesus leading a Second Exodus? Giving a New Law and Covenant? Instituting a New Passover? Building a New Temple? And leading us to a New Promised Land?

These questions open up rich and exciting perspectives on the life and ministry of Jesus.

In the next post, thanks to Pitre's book, I'll point to another, less noticed, New Exodus theme in the gospels.

The Fuzzy Correlation: A Ramble about Capitalism, Socialism and Politics

Here are some thoughts I had the other day about capitalism, socialism and politics.

(And I'm an idiot for even trying to share some of this stuff in the current political climate. Somebody, please, take this keyboard away from me.)

I don't think we can ever escape sin. Consequently, I think every economic system is going to have sinful aspects to it. Capitalism is no exception. But one of the interesting features of capitalism is how it harnesses sin for the greater good. We pursue our self-interest, often in competition with each other, and all boats rise, prosperity fueled by the "rat race" of modern economic life. By saying, effectively, "Good luck, you're on your own" capitalism takes our innate instincts for survival and social comparison (shame and "keeping up with the Jones's") and turns it into gasoline for the engine of productivity. As Adam Smith pointed out, we don't appeal to the benevolence but to the self-interest of the butcher, baker and candlestick-maker. Or, in the words of Gordon Geckko, "Greed is good."

A couple of observations about this. First, it seems here that capitalism gets human nature right. This is one of the reasons capitalism appears to be more successful than communism. Communism seems to miss the mark on human nature. Ironically by being too optimistic and hopeful, even Christian. People don't tend to work hard for the good of others. Saints might do that, but normal people don't. Normal people are lazy and like to free ride on the system. Just ask any Children's minister at church how easy it is to get people to teach Sunday School. Everyone likes to drop their kids off at Sunday School. But fewer actually step up to take a turn teaching. Free riding is human nature.

So capitalism does seem to have the more realistic anthropology. It assumes humans are selfish and self-interested and then puts them in competition. This infuses economic life with an anxiety that is effectively leveraged into work.

While capitalism is premised on human selfishness this focus on individual effort isn't wholly without biblical precedent:

2 Thessalonians 3.10
For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.”
While the "collectivist" visions of community life in Acts 2 and 4 seem utopian (and even communist), we get a sense in 2 Thessalonians 3.10 (and in other places where Paul preaches work) that people were free riding on the system. Thus the rule: If you want to eat, you have to work.

What capitalism does is to take this notion--if you work you can eat--to a unique place, an extreme even. It suggests that, if we assume a level playing field, that any need you are experiencing is the product of your failed work ethic. You are not eating because you are not working. And that's a working assumption among many Americans today, particularly among conservative Christians.

And to some degree, you can't really argue with that assumption. It's empirically true that if you don't work you'll struggle to pay your bills. Which creates another interesting feature of capitalism: it helps assign the blame when it comes to need. Specifically, if you are in need that's your own fault. Society isn't being "unjust." There is no "injustice" here. You're just failing to follow the Apostle Paul's command: Work.

This is why, in America today, we moralize socioeconomic status. Failures of character (e.g., a lack of a work ethic), it is believed, produce need. Strength of character produces success. Thus, God is blessing the wealthy. God helps those who help themselves. A sentiment that many think is in the bible. (It isn't.) This is why we see health and wealth gospels so popular among Christians. Health and wealth gospels resonate with how we think capitalism accurately assigns praise and blame.

Now this blame assignment would work well if, in fact, the playing field was perfectly level. Imagine, say, if we could hit the reset button and let everyone have the exact same family, go to the exact same high school, have the exact same gender, have the exact same skin color, have the exact same physical appearance, have the exact same genetic aptitudes, have the exact same life experience, and so on. Imagine a perfectly randomized clinical trial. In that case, yes, we might be able to identify the virtuous by their subsequent success. But, as we all know, that's not the situation we have. What we have is a system well in motion, one with with a variety of different and unequal starting places. The topography of "fairness" isn't level. It's hilly and uneven. Just how uneven is a matter of debate.

I want to talk some more about that hilly fairness topography, but before I do I'd like to pause and make a few comments about the effects of sin within the the randomized clinical trial described above. Specifically, while communism gets human nature wrong about our work ethic (i.e., we'd rather work for ourselves rather than for others) capitalism gets human nature wrong when it comes to acquisitiveness and fair play. It's true that capitalism creates productivity. But it doesn't reliably reward virtue. In fact, since capitalism mainly rewards success within a competitive environment we'll often find that "good guys finish last." We call this corruption and greed.

And there's another flaw in the system, of a generational nature. To see this imagine us starting our clinical trial experiment at Time 1, kicking off the self-interested competition of capitalism to get all those worker bees off and running (or buzzing). The Time 1 round plays out and prizes (think: promotions) are awarded. Trouble is, there are only so many promotions and wins to go around. There is a bottleneck at the top. Which, in one sense, kind of works. With few prizes to go around the competition and innovation really ramps up. And that flurry of activity is generally good. But as Time 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 tick by something starts to happen. Due to the bottlenecking we start to have growing inequities as time passes. The Have's start having more haves. And the Have-Not's start having more nots.

This is the second flaw in capitalism. Over time, due to bottlenecking, capitalism leads to greater economic disparity. Despite an initial level playing field of, say, 100 employees, there is only one manager position. Someone gets that job and the increased pay that goes along with it. And this pay allows the kids in that family to go to a better high school and college, improving their human capital. That human capital and the old boys network (Dad is, after all, in management and not working on the factory floor) increases the probability of these kids ending up in management and not on the shop floor. This is no guarantee of course. But the odds of reaching the American Dream have ticked up a bit in your favor. And, over time, those odds accumulate.

This isn't to say capitalism is bad. It's just glitchy. Capitalism can't produce utopia. Every system is going to have its problems. And to say that capitalism is better than, say, communism isn't a claim that capitalism is flawless. It's isn't. It has two basic design flaws: It rewards corruption and it creates income inequities. In short, despite capitalism's promise of accurately assigning praise and blame (work = eating) it often fails to deliver.

Like I said, every economic system is contaminated by sin.

And this is hardly a controversial conclusion. Even Republicans feel a bit squeamish about defending CEOs. The only business owners it is safe to praise whole-heartedly are the small business owners. But CEOs and big corporations? There's something a bit shady, a bit too greedy about them. To be sure, Republicans are sympathetic to big business. But watch the rhetoric of the Republicans running for this year's nomination. They'll not sing the praises of CEOs and big business, though they will defend them from time to time, albeit obliquely. No, what they'll do ninety-nine times out of a hundred is sing the praises of small businesses. And why is that? Because we're aware that the system has a glitch. For not very virtuous reasons, big things tend to get too big in capitalism. Perhaps too big to fail. Or monopolies that stifle competition. Or increasing income inequity.

Now let me get back to the issue of how we assign praise and blame in capitalism and moralize socioeconomic status.

Recall, blame can be easily assigned if we all start off with a level playing field. But the playing field, as we've noted above, isn't level. So, given this unevenness, success is only going to be, at best, a rough approximation of virtue. Yes, it will have some approximation. Again, those who are responsible and work hard will, on average, rise to the top. Those who squander their opportunities or don't work will drift toward the bottom. Still, this correlation isn't perfect. Some people get head starts. Some people get lucky. And some people succeed because of vice rather than virtue (think of that Machiavellian co-worker who stabs you in the back to get the promotion or get you fired). And so on. In short, there are many virtuous and hardworking people who, in America today, aren't living the American Dream. And why does this happen in capitalism? Simple. The system isn't perfect.

And this puts us in a bit of a pickle. Given that the correlation between success and virtue is only approximate there is some ambiguity in how we should approach the issues of fairness and wealth redistribution. This in addition to the the generational flaw inherent in capitalism which produces, over time, greater economic disparity.

For example, if the correlation between success and virtue were exact then we really would struggle with the idea of wealth redistribution. We'd be taking something from someone who "earned" it and giving it to someone who is a bum. That doesn't seem right. We should reward virtue. (Again, we are imagining here that the correlation is exact. That those who aren't eating aren't working.)

But what if the correlation is less than exact? Let's say it's actually quite weak. That where I end up in life is more a matter of fortune and systemic corruption than my own virtue. More, that the lucky and/or corrupt "winners" get to pass their "winnings" on to their children, that the playing field isn't reset after each generation. (Call this the "trust fund baby problem" or the "old boys network problem".) Well, in that situation it seems that we'd try, as Americans have generation after generation, to remediate the situation via our social contract. Why? Because good, hardworking people are economically struggling. And lucky or less than virtuous people are living large. That doesn't seem right or fair. The system is no longer rewarding the virtuous.

Call this the theodicy of politics.

This political theodicy problem is, incidentally, what drives populist unrest. The ideal capitalist polarity of Rich = Good and Poor = Bad gets reversed and we start to see the sentiment emerge that Rich = Bad and Good = Poor (this sentiment is usually labeled "class warfare"). This reversal is what see in the lament psalms, hence my label of theodicy. (Incidentally, the polarity in Scripture where Good = Poor and Bad = Rich is called by theologians God's "preferential option for the poor" and it sits in tension with the capitalist polarity of Rich = Good.) When we see the populist polarity emerge we're going to see more voices crying out to rectify the situation. Attempts to move the wealth back to the virtuous poor and to correct the systemic inequities that created the uneven playing field. As I said, it seems that America has had to do from time to time.

One of the things I'm trying to say about all this is that, given the fuzzy correlation between virtue and success, we are looking out on something akin to Rorschach blot. There are examples and counterexamples aplenty that can help illustrate the strength or the weakness of the correlation between success and virtue. During this election year we'll see conservatives emphasize narratives that demonstrate a stronger correlation (think ACORN stories on Fox where Poor = Bad/Lazy) and liberals emphasizing narratives that demonstrate a weaker correlation (think fat cat Wall Street/CEO stories on MSNBC where Rich = Bad/Greedy).

The truth, obviously, is somewhere in the middle. How strong is the correlation between virtue and success in America today? It's hard to say. It's a debatable point. But one thing is clear, your views on the correlation affect how you see the world and how you think our social contract should be arranged.

And in light of that, I'd like to make a few concluding observations.

First, no one really knows what the actual correlation is. And because of that I think everyone needs to be a whole lot more humble about what is going on in America today. More, in light of this uncertainty we should pause to consider the counterexamples to all our examples. We need to get clear about just how unclear the situation is.

In this sense there is something healthy, if infuriating, in listening to the competing examples on, say, Fox and MSNBC. Each is providing the examples and counterexamples that demonstrate the fuzzy correlation. And this is why we get in trouble if we exclusively listen to only one set of examples. We can fool ourselves into thinking that the correlation is stronger or weaker than it actually is.

This is why, I think, political debate is often so unproductive. Rather than paying attention to the fuzzy correlation conservatives and liberals simply exchange examples and counterexamples thinking that they are "refuting" each other when, in fact, they are just talking about opposites ends of a shared and underlying reality. And it's hard to solve problems when you are only paying attention to 50% of the available information.

(As a case study, examine at the narratives that are dominant about what happened during the 2007 financial crisis. On the Right the examples are about individual irresponsibility, low income people buying more house than they could afford (Poor = Bad: poor being being greedy or dumb). On the Left, by contrast, the story is about a greedy Wall Street, their reckless leveraging and how the credit agencies hid the risk under AAA ratings (Rich = Bad: greedy bankers and Wall Street sharks). Which narrative is right? Well, both are right. And that's the point. Tell the whole story. Don't just lock in on 50% of the story and think you're telling the truth. You can't tune into only half the information and think you are describing reality.)

All this is why, I think, America has created a capitalism/socialism hybrid. We have the sense that the association between success and virtue is only approximate. We know there are glitches in the system. So we try, in each generation, to position our social contract somewhere in the "middle" and adjust it back and forth if we think it's drifting too far in one direction. Generally, these adjustments are small.

The point being, Obama isn't all that different from George W. Bush who wasn't all that different from Clinton who wasn't all that different from George Bush who wasn't all that different from Reagan. And so on. These guys really aren't all that different. At least when I look at them. Sure, they adjusted things one way or the other per their party. But voters voted in each case for that particular adjustment. Which is sort of the point of a democracy. But the larger social contract today, looked at from a big picture perspective, isn't radically different from when, say, Nixon was in office. Yes, adjustments have been made. And there will be more adjustments to come. Back and forth, back and forth, looking for the sweet spot of the fuzzy correlation.

Which is really just to say, in my long and tedious manner, that I don't know what the fuss is all about. I really do believe that if things get out of hand in one direction we'll have a new New Deal. And if things get out of hand the other way we'll have a reduction of government. Again, it's back and forth, back and forth.

We are pretty evenly divided in America. And that's what we'd expect if we were finding the middle of the correlation, the sweet spot. And yes, this makes us polarized. Red state. Blue state. Each sitting to one side of the sweet spot. But this also means everyone's doing their job. Bringing into the conversation (and voting booth) examples and information--whether that be about free riders on welfare or CEOs with Golden Parachutes--that we need to make good decisions.

Does that mean the wisdom of the crowd will lead to the best outcome? Not necessarily. But I'd rather trust all of us than only half of us.

To conclude, take all this for what it's worth. Which might not be much. Just some thoughts that were going through my head on my bike ride to work.

The Empathy of God: The Incarnation and Process Theology

Last month I was doing a Skype interview about Unclean with Tony Jones and the missional leadership graduate class from Rochester College he was teaching. At the start of the interview we had a conversation about the God-sanctioned violence in the Old Testament. How do you deal with that?

There are a variety of answers to that question. One of the more controversial and heterodox answers comes from process theology, the notion that God is developing/changing over time. Moving from the wrathful and violent deity of the OT to the loving and forgiving God of Jesus Christ in the NT.

Tony asked what I thought about process theology. Well, I said, I've certainly considered the idea. (I've considered just about every idea. And I keep considering them. Sort of like a theological moth. That's what I am, a theological moth.)

Anyhow, what I said was that when I think about process theology I keep coming back to this text in book of Hebrews:

Hebrews 4.14-16
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Think about what this passage is saying about how the Incarnation affected the empathy of God. Jesus, because he "was tempted in every way, just as we are", is a high priest who can "empathize with our weaknesses." And because of this empathic intercession we can "approach God's throne of grace with confidence."

Here's what I'm wondering. What does this text imply about God's empathy toward humanity prior to the Incarnation? Prior to God being "tempted in every way, just as we are" was God less able to "empathize with our weaknesses"? The text implies as much, that there was an empathic chasm that Jesus helped bridge. God's empathic capacities were improved because of the life of Jesus on earth.

And if that is so, might this be a way of thinking about the change in God from the Old Testament to the New Testament?

The Word

As regular readers know, I help lead a bible study at a local prison. The prison is about twenty minutes from home and because you can't take a cell phone into the prison I'm out of contact for about two and half hours while inside. So when I get out I call Jana and we talk as I make the drive home, catching up with what has gone on with her and boys while I've been at the study. And Jana will also ask about the study and how it went that night.

Well, a couple of weeks ago we had this conversation.

"So how'd the study go?" Jana asked.

"Good. I'm noticing something interesting."

"What's that?"

"Well, for my part of the study I find myself reading the bible quite a bit. Reading aloud long passages."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"No, it's not. But I'm doing it because I don't feel that I can add anything. The best thing that can be said is said by just reading the bible. I can't improve upon it. So I just read the text."
Outside of the prison, in the bible class I help lead at our church, I don't think people would sit still long enough to listen to a lot of the bible read aloud. And because of that I spend a lot of time adding things to the text, bringing in a lot of outside commentary, my own thoughts and observations, to make the text interesting or palatable. Outside the prison the biblical text is either too boring or too scandalous. Either way, the bible doesn't "fit."

But inside the prison I experience just the opposite. I find my attempts to "spin" or "supplement" the biblical text to be ineffective and distracting. The text seems to work all by itself. It fits.

Why is this so? I'm not sure, but my initial hypothesis is that the bible really only makes sense out on the margins, where life is desperate, where the metal meets the bone.

Consider Psalm 56 (the psalm I mentioned yesterday). Listen to these words:
Psalm 56.1-7
O God, have mercy on me,
for people are hounding me.
My foes attack me all day long.
I am constantly hounded by those who slander me,
and many are boldly attacking me.
But when I am afraid,
I will put my trust in you.
I praise God for what he has promised.
I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?
What can mere mortals do to me?

They are always twisting what I say;
they spend their days plotting to harm me.
They come together to spy on me—
watching my every step, eager to kill me.
Don’t let them get away with their wickedness;
in your anger, O God, bring them down.
My sense is that a lot of Christians will struggle with this text. We don't often feel afraid because we are hounded by enemies who are slandering and boldly attacking us. We don't feel that enemies are plotting against us, spying on us, seeking to kill us.

And because of this, we don't get, in our liberal sensitivities, the last sentiment: "in your anger, O God, bring them down."

So what we end up doing on the outside with texts like these is to feel embarrassed or worried about that last bit. We don't want intolerant Christians running around using texts like these to bash people. So we add a lot of meta-level commentary to make the text "fit" our context.

But imagine reading Psalm 56 in a prison. Nothing needs to be added. The text fits that context perfectly. All I need to do is read it. Without embarrassment or commentary. More, the text is absolutely riveting! Every line is an explosion of recognition, a word directly aimed at the lived experience of the audience. It's like looking into a crystal ball or a mirror.

And I don't do a thing. I just read Psalm 56. The Word does the rest.

I'm reminded in all this about how William Stringfellow came to be completely dominated by the biblical text, reading it almost exclusively late in his life. The categories of the bible, the way the bible described the world, took on greater and greater relevance for him, the most truthful and accurate way of describing the world. I always considered that to be a curious detail about a theologian I greatly admired and didn't give much thought about why that happened to him. But more and more, though I'm still embarrassed by the text at times, I think I'm starting to see what he saw.

Companioning

In light of the grief facing our campus, Charles, my Dean and friend, forwarded the following to our faculty about the pastoral act of "companioning" versus "treating." The list comes from Alan D. Wolfelt's book The Handbook for Companioning the Mourner: Eleven Essential Principles.

Beyond the issue of grief, I think these "principles" have wide applicability across a range of human relationships. As I read these, a simple word comes to mind: friend.

Companioning is about honoring the spirit; it is not about focusing on the intellect.

Companioning is about curiosity; it is not about expertise.

Companioning is about learning from others; it is not about teaching them.

Companioning is about walking alongside; it is not about leading.

Companioning is about being still; it is not about frantic movement forward.

Companioning is about discovering the gifts of sacred silence; it is not about filling every painful moment with words.

Companioning is about listening with the heart; it is not about analyzing with the head.

Companioning is about bearing witness to the struggles of others; it is not about directing those struggles.

Companioning is about being present to another person's pain; it is not about taking away the pain.

Companioning is about respecting disorder and confusion; it is not about imposing order and logic.

Companioning is about going to the wilderness of the soul with another human being; it is not about thinking you are responsible for finding the way out.

The Wineskin of God

The ACU campus is in grief. On Friday an ACU bus carrying 16 passengers from our Agriculture Department--twelve students, three faculty members and one faculty spouse--crashed south of Abilene as the group was traveling to a children's home for a weekend mission trip. Many were injured and some remain in the hospital in critical condition. ACU student Anabel Reid was killed. She was 19.

Unfolding details can be followed at this website.

Last week I was reading Psalm 56. It contains a beautiful image in verse eight. From the New Jerusalem translation:

You yourself have counted up my sorrow,
collect my tears in your wineskin.
I'm aware that the bible speaks of a New Heaven and a New Earth where there will be no more crying, where God will wipe every tear from our eyes.

I don't, however, find that vision all that comforting. Yes, crying will one day cease. But what about today? What about these tears? What about all the tears we shed before we get to heaven?

Are they noticed? Wasted? Lost?

I don't know the answers to those questions. But Psalm 56.8 speaks to my lament, my feeling that the cosmos is indifferent to our suffering. The psalmist says no tear falls to earth unnoticed. None are lost, wasted or forgotten in the winds of time. Each one is counted and collected in the wineskin of God.

Marriage as Spiritual Failure

I work at a Christian university.

Which is another way of saying that I work at a marriage factory.

That's definitely the impression you get. Those of you who have attended conservative Christian universities will, I expect, remember the enormous social pressure to find a Christian spouse during your undergraduate studies.

You have four years. The clock starts now. Ready. Set. Go.

I'm not exaggerating. My students report that, from Day One on campus, they hear the refrain over and over: "You'll meet your future husband/wife here."

And many do. But this intense focus on marriage on Christian college campuses creates a really unhealthy atmosphere. Some students in the grip of "Ring by Spring" madness rush into bad relationships. But the main casualty is the student who graduates unmarried and feels like a failure, socially and spiritually.

And this problem persists into adulthood. Churches are downright evil to singles. They are treated as freaks. Spiritually incomplete and malformed. And generally marginalized, silenced and excluded by the family-centered focus of contemporary church life.

I just hate this. I hate it. It's one of the worst sins of contemporary Protestant Christianity (in America at least). So last week I went off on a bit of a rant in one of my classes.

"Hey," I started, "you know how ACU pushes you all to get married. How we can't stop talking about it?" Everyone nods and groans. "Well, I'm sure you're aware," I continued, "that the bible considers marriage to be a spiritual failure."

Peculiar looks all around.

"According to the bible, you get married if you can't meet the high calling of celibacy for the Kingdom of God. More, the Apostle Paul was right. A family, a mortgage, and a minivan does affect your ability to serve God, your ability be radically available to the winds of the Spirit. If you have a family you do struggle with divided loyalties. I know that for a fact."

"So here's the deal. We're all aware that the culture of ACU and the church is going to make you feel like a failure if you don't get married. That you'd be spiritually incomplete. But that's completely backwards, biblically speaking. It's those who get married who are the spiritual failures. Singleness is one of God's highest callings. You're the special ones, the spiritually elite, the best we have to offer."

That's what I said. Yes, it's over the top. But I felt it needed saying. If only as a corrective to message they get on campus and will get at church for the rest of their lives.

Ears of Stone

I'm currently reading To Dwell in Peace, the autobiography of Daniel Berrigan.

If you don't know the Berrigan brothers, some background.

Daniel and Phillip Berrigan are brothers (Daniel is still living but Phillip is deceased) who were both Catholic priests. As brothers and priests they were both leaders in the Civil Rights movement and in the peace protests against the Vietnam War. Most of their notoriety comes from their participation with/as the Catonsville Nine. The Catonsville Nine was one of the more publicized anti-war protests--because two priests were involved--against the war in Vietnam. On May 17, 1968 the Nine entered the building of the draft board in Catonsville, Maryland, removed the A-1 draft files, took them outside and set them on fire with homemade napalm.



The Berrigan brothers were subsequently arrested, convicted, and spent a couple of years in jail. (Incidentally, Daniel Berrigan was captured by the FBI at William Stringfellow's house.)

One of the controversies about the Catonsville Nine was their destruction of government property. Berrigans' defense: "Some property has no right to exist."

In reading To Dwell in Peace I was struck by the following passage where Berrigan describes how audiences reacted to the reasons he gave for participating in the Catonsville Nine action. Specifically, he discusses how when he tried to explain his actions on biblical grounds--as his obedience to the Sermon on the Mount--Christian audiences grew resistant. Which is--how shall we say?--somewhat curious. Given our conversation last week about just war and the bible this passage caught my attention:

Shortly, standing before audiences, I discovered something unexpected. The closer explanation drew upon biblical instruction and source, the less palatable it became...It was though in so speaking, one was by no means building bridges of understanding. One was putting up a wall, stone by stone, and mortising it tight.

It was quite acceptable to talk "politics." There was at least a nascent sense that the war was intolerable, granted the American system and its "normal" workings. One gained this small leverage. But the fact that the war might be inconsistent with the words and example of Christ, that killing others was repugnant to the letter and spirit of the Sermon on the Mount--this was too much: it turned living ears to stone.
This quote got me to thinking about our discussions last week about just war and the Sermon on the Mount. Many readers were very eager to note just how straightforward the case was for just war, almost a no-brainer.

Which makes me wonder about Berrigan's quote. Why is it so easy to use the bible to justify war and so hard to see Jesus's prohibitions in the Sermon on the Mount? Why the asymmetry?

To be clear, I understand how Christians can make a just war argument. And some of those arguments are cogent and persuasive. But here's my problem. Every Christian should be vehemently anti-war. And that's clearly not the case.

Understand what I'm not saying. I'm not suggesting that Christians should be strict pacifists. What I am suggesting is that Christians should be vociferously anti-war and regularly protesting war. That seems to be what the faith demands and expects of us. We should see just war proponents protesting war right along with and just as loudly as the pacifists. But by and large, Christians aren't widely known as having, as their default stance, an anti-war position. Most Christians, I'd expect, have never even contemplated protesting a war. It's just not our gig, not a part of our spiritual formation. Being anti-war isn't a part of our spiritual DNA. And that's just really, really, weird.

Again, the issue here isn't just war versus pacifism. It's about how an anti-war sentiment doesn't characterize the people who claim they follow Jesus of Nazareth.

Speaking / Guest Lecturing Schedule

2020

January 3-5
Rochester College, MA Missional Leadership Class
Durham, NC
(enrollment required)

January 17-18
Centerpeace Retreat
Strawn, Texas

January 30
Lenoir-Rhyne University
Hickory, NC

February 9
Richwoods Christian Church
Peoria, IL

March 28-29
Nexus Church
Kitchener, Ontario, Canada

May 5-6
Harbor Conference
Pepperdine University
Malibu, CA

August 10-15
Fuller Theological Seminary DMin Class
Pasadena, CA
(enrollment required)

September 22-23
Summit Conference
Abilene, TX

October 24
e3 Conference
Dallas, TX

November 9
Crossroads Church
Decatur, TX

If you'd like for me to speak for your church, conference, school, event or organization feel free to email at beckr@acu.edu.

The Unforgivable Sin: A Universalist Midrash

In a few of my posts regarding universal reconciliation Michael has raised the issue of blasphemy of the Holy Spirit as the "unforgivable sin." Truth be told, I haven't thought much about blasphemy of the Holy Spirit, but some people online, as I've been poking around, see it as a sort of test case for universalism. So it seems that something should be said about this. My thanks to Michael for raising the issue and spurring me to think about it.

The relevant texts are these (ESV):

Matthew 12.22-32
Then a demon-oppressed man who was blind and mute was brought to him, and he healed him, so that the man spoke and saw. And all the people were amazed, and said, "Can this be the Son of David?" But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, "It is only by Beelzebul, the prince of demons, that this man casts out demons." Knowing their thoughts, he said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and no city or house divided against itself will stand. And if Satan casts out Satan, he is divided against himself. How then will his kingdom stand? And if I cast out demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your sons cast them out? Therefore they will be your judges. But if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you. Or how can someone enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man? Then indeed he may plunder his house. Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters. Therefore I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven people, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. And whoever speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.

Mark 3.22-30
And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem were saying, "He is possessed by Beelzebul," and "by the prince of demons he casts out the demons." And he called them to him and said to them in parables, "How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end. But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man. Then indeed he may plunder his house.

"Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin"—for they were saying, "He has an unclean spirit."
Now let me be clear. I don't have any great pearls of wisdom on this. I've not studied these texts in detail, but I plan to. So for this post I'd just like to share some impressions. My goal is simply to show how someone with my theological sensibilities might read these texts.

My first impression: the text seems odd to me. One of those textual anomalies sprinkled throughout the Old and New Testament. Like baptism for the dead:
1 Corinthians 15.29
Now if there is no resurrection, what will those do who are baptized for the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why are people baptized for them?
That isn't to say we should ignore these textual oddities. Just to say, given their strangeness, that a Midrash seems appropriate. In light of that, if my reading of the blasphemy of the Holy Spirit texts seems a bit "creative" that is because I think texts like these encourage such creativity.

Besides, creative exegesis isn't unknown in the New Testament. Consider how the Apostle Paul reads the Old Testament. For example, look at Galatians 4:
Galatians 4.21-31
Tell me, you who want to be under the law, are you not aware of what the law says? For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by the slave woman and the other by the free woman. His son by the slave woman was born in the ordinary way; but his son by the free woman was born as the result of a promise.

These things may be taken figuratively, for the women represent two covenants. One covenant is from Mount Sinai and bears children who are to be slaves: This is Hagar. Now Hagar stands for Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present city of Jerusalem, because she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem that is above is free, and she is our mother. For it is written:

"Be glad, O barren woman,
who bears no children;
break forth and cry aloud,
you who have no labor pains;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband."

Now you, brothers, like Isaac, are children of promise. At that time the son born in the ordinary way persecuted the son born by the power of the Spirit. It is the same now. But what does the Scripture say? "Get rid of the slave woman and her son, for the slave woman's son will never share in the inheritance with the free woman's son." Therefore, brothers, we are not children of the slave woman, but of the free woman.
First, note that Paul explicitly states that Scripture is speaking non-literally: "These things may be taken figuratively." Really? Says who? Paul, I guess. The point is, if Scripture can speak "figuratively" I don't think literal readings are always the gold standard of exegesis. At least not for Paul.

But it's more than just figurative. It's a quite forced figurative reading. Paul starts obviously enough: Sarah represents promise/freedom and Hagar represents law/slavery. But then, in an unusual move, Paul states that Hagar, the historical mother of the non-Jews, is actually representative of the Jews. Conversely, Sarah, the historical mother of the Jews, is actually the mother of the non-Jews.

Lets be clear, there is no way the Genesis writer had this meaning in mind. Further, no one until Paul would have even considered reading the story in this way. The women just don't match up with who they are supposed to match up with.

And it gets even more strange. Paul goes on to say that Hagar is Mount Sinai. Again, where does he get this? To quote from the note in my study bible: "The equation of Hagar with Mount Sinai has no basis in the Genesis story."

All this is exceedingly strange reading of Genesis, but we can see what Paul is trying to do: He's trying to get the symbol of slavery--Hagar--aligned with the Law/Sinai, Jerusalem, and the Jews. This alignment frees Sarah up to be the mother of promise and get her aligned with the Gentiles and a Jerusalem from "above."

In the end, Paul's analogy is well taken. But what is shocking, even disturbing by some accounts, is his use of Scripture.

I've gone into this detour because I'd like to create some wiggle room as I approach an odd text. There's some strange texts in the bible and strange readings of texts. So strangeness, it seems to me, isn't always to be taken as a sign of wrongness. Even the Apostle Paul floated some extraordinarily strange readings of the bible. Let us follow his example.

Now back to the blasphemy of the Holy Spirit texts.

To start, what exactly is blasphemy of the Holy Spirit? Both stories, Matthew and Mark, center on a case of exorcism. In both stories the opponents of Jesus attribute his power over demons to the Devil. Jesus responds with some logic--How can Satan be opposed to Satan?--and concludes with comments about blasphemy of the Holy Spirit.

My take from these stories is that blasphemy of the Holy Spirit seems to be attributing a work of the Spirit to the work of the Devil. And, I'd guess, vice versa: Attributing the work of the Devil to the work of the Spirit.

If this is an accurate description I think we can see how Jesus would characterize this as being the very worst of sins. I think of a compass pointing in the exact opposite direction. North is South and South is North. Good is Evil and Evil is Good. The Spirit is the Devil and the Devil is the Spirit.

In short, blasphemy of the Holy Spirit represents the complete disintegration of the moral compass. No, that's not quite right. Because disintegration implies a sort of random brokenness. But what Jesus seems to be talking about is polar opposition. Not randomness. Directionality. And pointing in the exact opposite direction.

And so Jesus says that this sin will not be forgiven.

And what might that mean?

Well, what is forgiveness? One way to think of it is as the opposite of punishment. If you don't forgive someone you choose to have them face the punishment or consequences. They get no grace from you.

Okay, so Jesus says every sin will be forgiven, every sin will receive grace, except one sin, blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. What this seems to suggest to me is that there is some location in the moral universe that can't receive grace. This location where Good is Evil and Evil is Good, a place we might describe as total depravity or ultimate rebellion against God.

I think someone like a Hitler is either in or very close to this space. Someone whose moral compass was completely upside down.

But let me pause. Is Hitler fully in this space? Was he the complete negation of God? Was there no overlap between Hitler and God? My hunch is that even Hitler had a modicum of virtue in his life. That he was capable of some sympathy and pity, if only toward people he cared for.

And this makes me wonder if anyone, even the most evil amongst us, can ever get to the point Jesus warned about. If not, then what we see in Jesus' teaching is a use of hyperbole to offer a warning, a presentation of the worst case scenario, even if unrealistic, to make a point. Jesus posits the limit case to make a diagnosis about the upside-down moral sensibilities of the scribes and Pharisees. He's saying, look down the road you're heading. See where it goes?

But let's say someone actually could blaspheme the Holy Spirit. Why would such an act be unforgivable?

Well, let's remember how I think of God. A universalist thinks every act of God is an act of love, for the benefit of the creature. Even if this act is punishment (think of a parent punishing a wayward child). So imagine a person going in the exact opposite direction from God. How could God forgive that? That place in the moral universe, a space as bad if not worse than Hitler, isn't anything that could be forgiven. Which means that the only option is punishment, to the max.

That seems to make sense. If we posit the worst offense we expect little by way of grace. Rather, here we'd expect punishment to the max. And most, I figure, would assume that this is what someone like Hitler should get. Not a bit of grace but a lot of punishment.

So it seems straightforward: The worst sin gets full punishment. No forgiveness.

So is that incompatible to the doctrine of universal reconciliation?

Not the way I see it. Again, punishment for a universalist isn't antithetical to the love of God. Punishment is a manifestation of the love of God. And it seems, per Jesus's teaching, that the love of God can only reach the very worst of us (if this sin truly is possible and not hyperbole) through pain. I seems that at the worst part of the moral universe forgiveness would make the situation worse (I'm assuming because what is being forgiven here is completely antithetical to God). So no forgiveness is given at this location. Those in this space will only be saved by carrying the full wight of punishment.

So that's what I think. For today at least. The very worst sin reaches the nadir of grace where the love of God exists only as wrath. I'm not sure if this space exists, or if humans can reach it. But if we can I think the logic at work in Jesus's teaching is fully compatible with the inescapable love of God.