The guys at CPX (the Centre for Public Christianity) have really excelled themselves with the new Life of Jesus package. The Life of Jesus screened on Australia's Channel 7 at Easter time in an hour long format, and I was impressed then by the production values, the clarity and depth of the presentation and the brilliantly constructed programme. The DVD comes with two and half hours of material, much of which is shot on location in the Holy Land. Alongside the 'life of Jesus' stuff comes a series of shot explanations of various questions such as 'Is there a God?' and 'Can you be good without God?'
The Life of Jesus comes with a very useful guidebook which is stuffed full of information, scripts, questions and notes, meaning that the DVD can operate as a six-part course. I think it would be fun to do in a class or group. It is sophisticated and serious enough to provide a real challenge at an adult level while being clear and simple enough that senior high school groups could easily use it.
The great benefit of the course is that it provides an antidote to the crackpot theories that make so much headway in the media. John Dickson's strategy is to show that even liberal-minded or non-religious scholars agree on the basic outline of Jesus' life - the impression given sometimes in the media that almost nothing can be known of him is quite wrong.
But more than this, it presents an account of Jesus the man that is plausible without being overstated. It takes us in to the story of his life, presenting it too us not only a historical reasonable narrative, but as a story that has life-changing implications for everyone.
As a theologian, I am quite suspicious of an apologetic strategy that relies on historical proof. The Life of Jesus uses an evidentialist type of apologetic, and unashamedly so. But there is no suggestion that just providing this evidence is enough to instill faith. And it is the case that quite often theologians have conceded the historical ground to the sceptics prematurely. The Life of Jesus shows this brilliantly.
Furthermore, the plethora of scallywag accounts of Jesus' life is allowed to grow because theologians have said 'it doesn't matter'. No - it does matter, theologically, that we can go Israel and see with our own eyes the ground on which Jesus walked. He was not a fantasy, or a principle. He was a man of flesh and blood and bone, and as far as any man of flesh and blood and bone may be traced in history so we should expect and in fact rejoice that traces of Jesus' presence among us are there to be found.
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Christianity's internal tensions..
OK - bear with me here. This is a historical rather than a theological point.
It seems to me that in the history of Christianity a number of tensions exist that never seem to be decisively resolved (in historical terms). Now, I must emphasise that highlighting these tensions isn't to say I don't have positions on each of these.
1. aestheticism vs iconoclasm
2. hedonism vs asceticism
3. universal vs local church
4. rationality vs experientiality
5. celebration of marriage vs celebration of virginity
6. optimistic vs pessimistic views of sanctification
7. free will vs bondage of the will
It seems to me that in the history of Christianity a number of tensions exist that never seem to be decisively resolved (in historical terms). Now, I must emphasise that highlighting these tensions isn't to say I don't have positions on each of these.
1. aestheticism vs iconoclasm
2. hedonism vs asceticism
3. universal vs local church
4. rationality vs experientiality
5. celebration of marriage vs celebration of virginity
6. optimistic vs pessimistic views of sanctification
7. free will vs bondage of the will
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Calvin, hermeneutics and history…
On the final page of his authoritative work The Unaccommodated Calvin, Richard A. Muller writes: 'A clever theologian can accommodate Calvin to nearly any agenda; a faithful theologian – and a good historian – will seek to listen to Calvin, not to use him.' Professor Muller's warning is salutary, not the least in the area of Calvin's hermeneutics. If anything, there has been since the 1960s a revival in interest in Calvin's interpretation of scripture, and an unseemly rush to appropriate or 'accommodate' him to new hermeneutical models. In the light of the slow dismemberment of the text of the Bible by scholars who hunkered around it like vultures pecking at a carcass, what else was to be done? The problem is that while this clinging to our forebear is driven by motives that are indubitably noble, it is by no means clear that Calvin has been listened to, and not used.
That is all very easy to say. The honest truth is that it is by no means obvious that listening to Calvin on the matter of hermeneutics is possible five centuries after his birth. The providential unity of the historical and Christological senses of scripture is no longer a assumption with which the contemporary interpreter can proceed. Stephen Edmondson voices the disquiet:
'These developments over the last four centuries have shut off any direct appropriation of Calvin's scriptural hermeneutic for contemporary interpreters concerned with the historical sense of the text. …it is problematic at this point to offer an historical reading of Scripture that is either unitive or generally theological, much less one that roots the unity of the narrative in a robust Christology. Calvin's history, then, is not our history.'
On the one hand, Calvin posited a single divine authorship to the Scriptures that was evidenced in its unity of voice and continuity of narrative; and that the text was a direct description of what actually happened in history. In direct and mutually-informing relationship with it, on the other hand, he held to a Christological theology of providence – the divine will shaped the events of history such that Christ was their consummation. If, first, the text could be shown to be not a united text but a plurality of competing texts, with an at best uncertain relationship to what actually happened in history, and second, if the view of the divine superintendence of historical events could be challenged and even discredited, then Calvin's reading of scripture could be made to look very odd indeed. Both of these were held to have occurred by the beginning of the nineteenth century; and so Calvin's narrative reading of scripture was 'eclipsed'.
[to be continued...]
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Butterfield and elasticity of mind
Richard Rorty wants we citizens to be 'ironists': to hold loose to our ideological commitments and to our metaphysical beliefs. This is the basis of the healthy disrespect necessary for the maintenance of sound liberal political order. Ideology causes us to be cruel.
Of course, one difficulty as with many liberal suggestions, is that it asks religious people to be two people instead of one - something Tony Blair has recently said himself. Even as PM, he had to maintain a secret double life as a Christian believer, pretending that he made decisions without reference to his beliefs. But, more than this: is the ironic stance beloved of Rorty really feasible in a time of crisis when something more is required?
Actually, the rule of Christ ought to give the Christian just the sense of irony about human systems of rule that Rorty wants - with all the pragmatic benefits (if we must stoop to his level). Cambridge historian Herbert Butterfield, writing in the aftermath of WWII, wrote this remarkable conclusion to his book Christianity and History:
This 'elasticity of mind': I think this is superior to Rorty's irony, and founded on something other than merely what apparently 'works'.
Of course, one difficulty as with many liberal suggestions, is that it asks religious people to be two people instead of one - something Tony Blair has recently said himself. Even as PM, he had to maintain a secret double life as a Christian believer, pretending that he made decisions without reference to his beliefs. But, more than this: is the ironic stance beloved of Rorty really feasible in a time of crisis when something more is required?
Actually, the rule of Christ ought to give the Christian just the sense of irony about human systems of rule that Rorty wants - with all the pragmatic benefits (if we must stoop to his level). Cambridge historian Herbert Butterfield, writing in the aftermath of WWII, wrote this remarkable conclusion to his book Christianity and History:
In these days ... when people are so much the prisoners of systems - especially of those general ideas which mark the spirit of the age - it is not always realised that beleif in God gives us great elasticity of mind, rescuing us from too great subservience to intermediate principles, whether these are related to nationality or ideology or science. It even enables us to leave more play in our minds for the things that nature or history may still have to reveal to us in the near future. Similarly, Christianity is not tied to regimes - not compelled to regard the existing order as the very end of life and the embodiment of all our values. Christians have too often tried to put the brake on things in the past, bu at the critical turning-points in history they have les reason that others to be afraid that a new kind of society or civilisation will leave them with nothing to live for. ..There are times when we can never meet the future with sufficient elasticity of mind, especially if we are locked in the contemnporary systems of thougt. We can do worse than remember a principle which both gives us a firm Rock and leaves us the maximum elasticity for our minds: the principle: Hold to Christ, and for the rest be totally uncommitted.
This 'elasticity of mind': I think this is superior to Rorty's irony, and founded on something other than merely what apparently 'works'.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Ricoeur recurrs
We had quite a deal of fun chewing over a Paul Ricoeur quote about history and fiction.
In his article he argues that the history and fiction intersect in the way they refer to the 'real' world.
Our ultimate interest when we do history is to enlarge our sphere of communication: that is, to encounter that which is different to us. But this requires an imaginative act, which is, to suspend your own conditions and desires and assumptions, in order to be communicated to.
'My contention...is that it is in this exchange between history and fiction and between their opposite referential claims that our historicity is brough to language.'
In his article he argues that the history and fiction intersect in the way they refer to the 'real' world.
Our ultimate interest when we do history is to enlarge our sphere of communication: that is, to encounter that which is different to us. But this requires an imaginative act, which is, to suspend your own conditions and desires and assumptions, in order to be communicated to.
'My contention...is that it is in this exchange between history and fiction and between their opposite referential claims that our historicity is brough to language.'
Friday, January 12, 2007
Narrative Logic: sequence vs pattern
Temptation is part of the ‘narrative logic’ of martyrdom.
What do I mean by 'narrative logic'? ‘Narrative logic’ indicates the ‘patterns of order which are proper to story rather than to discursive reasoning’ Richard B. Hays, "The Faith of Jesus Christ: An Investigation of the Narrative Substructure of Galatians 3:1-4:11" (Thesis (Ph. D.), Scholars Press, Emory University, 1981., 1983), p. 223
Stories are composed of actions and events order to one another by reference to time. To view the story as a unity, each subsequent event must be intelligible in relation to what preceded it. It can be surprising; or the intelligibility may not be obvious immediately; but the events must show some kind of fitness. Ricoeur’s way of putting this is to say that narrative conclusions must be, rather than deducible, acceptable. The follow a ‘particular directedness’ that propels them forward to a conclusion – though of course we need to follow it to the conclusion because it is only from that point of view that we can ultimately judge the acceptability of the sequence. Paul Ricoeur, "The Narrative Function," Semeia no 13 1978 (1978): p. 182
That is not to say that there isn’t a ‘logic’ to the way stories proceed, of course. Rather, it is almost a truism to say that successful narratives do possess an explanatory power that resonates – profoundly so – with the human experience of events.
Ricoeur goes on to develop his analysis of the logic of narratives by claiming that all narratives combine two aspects, one of which is chronological and one of which is non-chronological. The first he calls the ‘episodic dimension’, by which he means to indicate the way in which narratives throw up the question of ‘and then’? – that is, ‘what happened next’? Simultaneously, however, telling a story is also about construing ‘significant wholes out of scattered events’, attempting to grasp the series of events as a unity – its ‘configurational dimension’, as Ricoeur labels it. Ricoeur, "The Narrative Function," p. 183-4 Ricoeur observes then that narratives combine both sequence and pattern – though, it must be said that these two elements exist somewhat in tension with one another:
‘this structure is so paradoxical that every narrative may be seen as a competition between its episodic and its configurational dimensions, between its sequence and its pattern.’
What do I mean by 'narrative logic'? ‘Narrative logic’ indicates the ‘patterns of order which are proper to story rather than to discursive reasoning’ Richard B. Hays, "The Faith of Jesus Christ: An Investigation of the Narrative Substructure of Galatians 3:1-4:11" (Thesis (Ph. D.), Scholars Press, Emory University, 1981., 1983), p. 223
Stories are composed of actions and events order to one another by reference to time. To view the story as a unity, each subsequent event must be intelligible in relation to what preceded it. It can be surprising; or the intelligibility may not be obvious immediately; but the events must show some kind of fitness. Ricoeur’s way of putting this is to say that narrative conclusions must be, rather than deducible, acceptable. The follow a ‘particular directedness’ that propels them forward to a conclusion – though of course we need to follow it to the conclusion because it is only from that point of view that we can ultimately judge the acceptability of the sequence. Paul Ricoeur, "The Narrative Function," Semeia no 13 1978 (1978): p. 182
That is not to say that there isn’t a ‘logic’ to the way stories proceed, of course. Rather, it is almost a truism to say that successful narratives do possess an explanatory power that resonates – profoundly so – with the human experience of events.
Ricoeur goes on to develop his analysis of the logic of narratives by claiming that all narratives combine two aspects, one of which is chronological and one of which is non-chronological. The first he calls the ‘episodic dimension’, by which he means to indicate the way in which narratives throw up the question of ‘and then’? – that is, ‘what happened next’? Simultaneously, however, telling a story is also about construing ‘significant wholes out of scattered events’, attempting to grasp the series of events as a unity – its ‘configurational dimension’, as Ricoeur labels it. Ricoeur, "The Narrative Function," p. 183-4 Ricoeur observes then that narratives combine both sequence and pattern – though, it must be said that these two elements exist somewhat in tension with one another:
‘this structure is so paradoxical that every narrative may be seen as a competition between its episodic and its configurational dimensions, between its sequence and its pattern.’
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