I think this piece by Andrew Goddard is as good as I have seen on the whole Williams matter. It is good because it doesn't make Williams out to be guiltless in the whole debacle, but also shows how truly interesting his argument was. Goddard's very sympathetic reading of Williams says basically 'hey, Rowan was exposing the necessity for theological discourse when it comes to thinking about law, and you guys all fell for it!' Perhaps this is giving the Archbishop too much credit for a crafty rhetorical strategy. But even Goddard admits that the Archbishop's mode of expression, in the interview and in the lecture, were ill-advised.
However, as the Ugley Vicar points out , the media coverage hasn't been all ignorant and unprofessional. And, while there are some who think Rowan W can do no right, there are certainly those who seem to think he can do no wrong... and they are doing just as much damage to clear debate, in the church and without.
Even he doesn't believe this!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
The Rowan Williams affair
Readers of this blog will know that I have rather a fascination with the bearded one, and may have expected comment from me on the unfolding controversy over his comments on the possible integration of Sharia law in the UK.
Well, here is my two cents.
Yes, the immediate reaction of the media was disgraceful - deliberate stupidity always is.
But, as the controversy unfolded, there was in fact a variety of very intelligent comment in the British papers, interacting with the actual lecture that Williams had given and for the most part disagreeing profoundly. So, the media reaction was not all as bad as Williams' defenders would have us believe.
As Williams himself admits, his main fault was obscurity of expression. I maintain that this is serious - it is not a minor flaw. Being a public intellectual means an awareness of how public discourse operates. The 'oh it is very subtle and complex' defence just isn't good enough. It is no good bleating 'why does everything have to be media grab size'; he knows the way the media works already. And besides which, it is expecting far too much of even very interested people to make an effort to understand what he is saying. When you talk, as I have, to intelligent and educated British people who haven't been to church for many years, everything they fear about the C of E is confirmed by the way their chief bishop talks to them. That is, that he can't speak plainly, and that he hasn't really got confidence, even quiet confidence, in what he is saying. I am not saying that this is true, but that that is the impression given.
However, the reaction to the issue is fascinating to me because it reveals that secular Britain has a choice. Does it really believe in its own pluralism? I think the debate reveals that it doesn't; on the whole, even secular Britons would rather the Archbishop stick to defending Christian 'values' or a Christian way of life for Britain! Secular Britain is just as hypocritical as Christian Britain was¬!
Well, here is my two cents.
Yes, the immediate reaction of the media was disgraceful - deliberate stupidity always is.
But, as the controversy unfolded, there was in fact a variety of very intelligent comment in the British papers, interacting with the actual lecture that Williams had given and for the most part disagreeing profoundly. So, the media reaction was not all as bad as Williams' defenders would have us believe.
As Williams himself admits, his main fault was obscurity of expression. I maintain that this is serious - it is not a minor flaw. Being a public intellectual means an awareness of how public discourse operates. The 'oh it is very subtle and complex' defence just isn't good enough. It is no good bleating 'why does everything have to be media grab size'; he knows the way the media works already. And besides which, it is expecting far too much of even very interested people to make an effort to understand what he is saying. When you talk, as I have, to intelligent and educated British people who haven't been to church for many years, everything they fear about the C of E is confirmed by the way their chief bishop talks to them. That is, that he can't speak plainly, and that he hasn't really got confidence, even quiet confidence, in what he is saying. I am not saying that this is true, but that that is the impression given.
However, the reaction to the issue is fascinating to me because it reveals that secular Britain has a choice. Does it really believe in its own pluralism? I think the debate reveals that it doesn't; on the whole, even secular Britons would rather the Archbishop stick to defending Christian 'values' or a Christian way of life for Britain! Secular Britain is just as hypocritical as Christian Britain was¬!
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Hauerwas - oh, it's provocative and its brilliant!
One of my favourite Hauerwas quotes:
'One reason why we Christians argue so much about which hymn to sing, which liturgy to follow, which way to worship is that the commandments teach us to believe that bad liturgy eventually leads to bad ethics. You begin by singing some sappy, sentimental hymn, then you pray some pointless prayer, and the next thing you know you have murdered your best friend.'
'One reason why we Christians argue so much about which hymn to sing, which liturgy to follow, which way to worship is that the commandments teach us to believe that bad liturgy eventually leads to bad ethics. You begin by singing some sappy, sentimental hymn, then you pray some pointless prayer, and the next thing you know you have murdered your best friend.'
Saturday, February 02, 2008
de Lubac on Christianity and history
Not bad stuff this, from Henri de Lubac, everybody's favourite mid-century French Catholic theologian:
The Bible makes an extraordinary impression on the historian: the conbtrast between the humble beginnings of Israel and the potency of the seed, or rather the explosives, which it contains; its concrete shape shrouded from the outset in the loftiest beliefs; then its stately expansion its confident though hidden progress to a boundless and unpredictable end: nowhere else can be found anything in the least like it. Nothing resembles the stupendous incoherence of its prophetic literature; only a transfiguration of the whole, glimpsed in sudden flashes, can prevent overwhelming and endless contradictions. The historical character of the religion of Israel can be understood in all its originality only through its consummation in the religion of Christ. We should never forget that the explanation of Judaims is not to be found within itself. Catholicism, p. 164
I think he is right about the OT... its coherence (without Christ) is rather slippery. Deuteronomy is a wonderful case in point: a law book that points to its own redundancy and to the inevitability of its own insufficiency... amazing.
The Bible makes an extraordinary impression on the historian: the conbtrast between the humble beginnings of Israel and the potency of the seed, or rather the explosives, which it contains; its concrete shape shrouded from the outset in the loftiest beliefs; then its stately expansion its confident though hidden progress to a boundless and unpredictable end: nowhere else can be found anything in the least like it. Nothing resembles the stupendous incoherence of its prophetic literature; only a transfiguration of the whole, glimpsed in sudden flashes, can prevent overwhelming and endless contradictions. The historical character of the religion of Israel can be understood in all its originality only through its consummation in the religion of Christ. We should never forget that the explanation of Judaims is not to be found within itself. Catholicism, p. 164
I think he is right about the OT... its coherence (without Christ) is rather slippery. Deuteronomy is a wonderful case in point: a law book that points to its own redundancy and to the inevitability of its own insufficiency... amazing.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
O'Donovan on the foundations of ethics
O'Donovan speaks mucho truth:
The foundations of Christian ethics must be evangelical foundations; or, to put it more simply, Christian ethics must arise from the gospel of Jesus Christ. Otherwise it could not be Christian ethics. Resurrection and Moral Order, p. 11
A belief in Christian ethics is a belif that certain ethical and moral judgements belong to the gospel itself; a belief, in other words, that the church can be commited to ethics without moderating the tone of its voice as a bearer of glad tidings. RMO p. 12
That is, the question has to be, how can we preach/do ethics, and at the same time preach the good news?
The foundations of Christian ethics must be evangelical foundations; or, to put it more simply, Christian ethics must arise from the gospel of Jesus Christ. Otherwise it could not be Christian ethics. Resurrection and Moral Order, p. 11
A belief in Christian ethics is a belif that certain ethical and moral judgements belong to the gospel itself; a belief, in other words, that the church can be commited to ethics without moderating the tone of its voice as a bearer of glad tidings. RMO p. 12
That is, the question has to be, how can we preach/do ethics, and at the same time preach the good news?
Fergus Kerr on Charles Taylor
Kerr's book Immortal Longings is a magnificent treatment of the subject of the self in contemporary philosophy and theology. Of Charles Taylor he says (rightly I think):
...Taylor insists that some explanatory frameworks give us a better sense of reality than others. True, it is not easy to judge one superior to another without appealing to epistemological foundations that stand outside all frameworks, or merely to list the technological achievements of Western science (say). There can be no going back on the lesson of modern philosophy: we have no access to sources of knowledge independently of whatever conceptual scheme we have in place. But pragmatic success is not a good enough criterion either: for one thing, what counts as success may vary from one society to another. p. 137
...Taylor insists that some explanatory frameworks give us a better sense of reality than others. True, it is not easy to judge one superior to another without appealing to epistemological foundations that stand outside all frameworks, or merely to list the technological achievements of Western science (say). There can be no going back on the lesson of modern philosophy: we have no access to sources of knowledge independently of whatever conceptual scheme we have in place. But pragmatic success is not a good enough criterion either: for one thing, what counts as success may vary from one society to another. p. 137
Can Morality Be Christian? John Milbank
I have only come lately to this essay by Milbank, and what a piece of provocation it is! The answer is, in short, no: morality cannot be Christian! It is quite a Protestant piece for him. He ends thus, with his best impersonation of Luther in full cry:
So no, the Christian man is not a moral man, not a man of good conscience, who acts with what he knows of death, scarcity and duty to totalities. He has a bad conscience, but a good confidence: for he acts ith what he does not know but has faith in. In absolute trust he gives up trying to be good, to sustain a right order of government within himself. The Romans that Paul wrote to did this already, but they still needed a letter from Paul - to hear what? Simply to hear the other, receive the other, and through the other receive the gratuitous God. Cease to be self-sufficient in the face of scarcity. Instead to be good as first receiving from the all-sufficiency of God, and acting excessively out of this excess.
So no, the Christian man is not a moral man, not a man of good conscience, who acts with what he knows of death, scarcity and duty to totalities. He has a bad conscience, but a good confidence: for he acts ith what he does not know but has faith in. In absolute trust he gives up trying to be good, to sustain a right order of government within himself. The Romans that Paul wrote to did this already, but they still needed a letter from Paul - to hear what? Simply to hear the other, receive the other, and through the other receive the gratuitous God. Cease to be self-sufficient in the face of scarcity. Instead to be good as first receiving from the all-sufficiency of God, and acting excessively out of this excess.
Monday, January 28, 2008
The Wondrous Cross
Over the weekend I read Stephen R. Holmes book The Wondrous Cross.
I think it is a very sensible and clear book. It is brief (much briefer than Pierced for our Transgressions!), and written for a wide audience.
Holmes offers a stout defence of Penal Substitutionary Atonement but does so without overplaying his hand or becoming shrill. He doesn't overstate the scriptural case, for example. One of the things he notes is how the Bible rarely gives us an explanation of how the atonement works. Neither does he overstate the presence of PSA in the tradition: he can only find one clear reference, in Gregory the Great. It is with Calvin that the doctrine comes to full flower.
Furthermore, Holmes does think the doctrine has a contemporary relevance. One of the annoying things (for me) about contemporary missiological works is how the declare with such absoluteness and authority what everyone in contemporary culture does or doesn't think. Holmes seeks a more subtle account, and suggests that PSA may yet have a great deal of resonance with the culture of the West.
One strength of the book for me was that Holmes seeks an account of the atonement which recognises all the different 'stories' of the atonement that we find in Scripture and does not play one off against the other. The tendency for evangelicals who want to defend PSA is to make it the only or the absolutely determinative model of the atonement: something that is certainly hard to justify from Scripture. As Holmes shows, even Calvin would have no truck with this.
There's more to say. These are just a few jottings rather than a review: suffice it to say that I think it is a book that should be more widely read than it is.
I think it is a very sensible and clear book. It is brief (much briefer than Pierced for our Transgressions!), and written for a wide audience.
Holmes offers a stout defence of Penal Substitutionary Atonement but does so without overplaying his hand or becoming shrill. He doesn't overstate the scriptural case, for example. One of the things he notes is how the Bible rarely gives us an explanation of how the atonement works. Neither does he overstate the presence of PSA in the tradition: he can only find one clear reference, in Gregory the Great. It is with Calvin that the doctrine comes to full flower.
Furthermore, Holmes does think the doctrine has a contemporary relevance. One of the annoying things (for me) about contemporary missiological works is how the declare with such absoluteness and authority what everyone in contemporary culture does or doesn't think. Holmes seeks a more subtle account, and suggests that PSA may yet have a great deal of resonance with the culture of the West.
One strength of the book for me was that Holmes seeks an account of the atonement which recognises all the different 'stories' of the atonement that we find in Scripture and does not play one off against the other. The tendency for evangelicals who want to defend PSA is to make it the only or the absolutely determinative model of the atonement: something that is certainly hard to justify from Scripture. As Holmes shows, even Calvin would have no truck with this.
There's more to say. These are just a few jottings rather than a review: suffice it to say that I think it is a book that should be more widely read than it is.
Weaknesses of Anglicanism?
I think one of the great things about the list that Justin generated of the strengths of Anglicanism is that it shows that Anglicanism has the possibility of becoming aware of its own weaknesses. Inbuilt in Anglicanism is the possibility of its own ongoing reformation. It is not beholden in an unrepentant way to its own traditions. This is more difficult for Roman Catholics and for non-conformists, I think, whose identity is more to do with a specific ecclesiology. Yes, that's one of the funny things about Anglicanism: it is (or ought to be) quite pragmatic about ecclesiological matters, in fact (read Richard Hooker to see this) - and what a relief it is too! You know, that is partly why Anglican Evangelicals are even 'lower' church than many Baptists and Presbyterians. Because, if you are a Scriptural Christian, then you can't possibly hold to Anglican church order as the only possibility!
There are some weaknesses worth exploring, however. I think Anglicanism's attachment to an Impirical political vision has yet to be repented of. There is a kind of superiority complex that Anglicans have which is inherited from the English superiority complex. We barely notice it until non-conformists point it out! We are just used to be the church of establishment. Even in Australia, where we are NOT the church of establishment, we act as if we are.
Let's be fair: the British Empire was one of the more benign empires of world history. And Anglican Christianity often ameliorated the rapine capitalism that drove the unprecedented conquest of territory. If you believe in Providence, as I do, then God used even British greed to spreed the gospel to the nations. And the Anglican Communion is perhaps the last vestige of that Empire, apart from the Commonwealth Games. Perhaps you could add to that the dominance of the English language globally, I guess.
Anglicanism, as the church of respectabilty and establishment, has a tendency to elitism and intellectual snobbery. It also licences aestheticism and nominalism. The political liberalism of the contemporary Church of England is not different in style to its former conservatism: it is still very much an establishment politics, a politics of respectability.
Because of the its links to government, too, it has aped the bureacratic structure of liberal government, and has imported its managerialism.
There are some weaknesses worth exploring, however. I think Anglicanism's attachment to an Impirical political vision has yet to be repented of. There is a kind of superiority complex that Anglicans have which is inherited from the English superiority complex. We barely notice it until non-conformists point it out! We are just used to be the church of establishment. Even in Australia, where we are NOT the church of establishment, we act as if we are.
Let's be fair: the British Empire was one of the more benign empires of world history. And Anglican Christianity often ameliorated the rapine capitalism that drove the unprecedented conquest of territory. If you believe in Providence, as I do, then God used even British greed to spreed the gospel to the nations. And the Anglican Communion is perhaps the last vestige of that Empire, apart from the Commonwealth Games. Perhaps you could add to that the dominance of the English language globally, I guess.
Anglicanism, as the church of respectabilty and establishment, has a tendency to elitism and intellectual snobbery. It also licences aestheticism and nominalism. The political liberalism of the contemporary Church of England is not different in style to its former conservatism: it is still very much an establishment politics, a politics of respectability.
Because of the its links to government, too, it has aped the bureacratic structure of liberal government, and has imported its managerialism.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Some Bloglican stuff
The Ugley Vicar has produced for us a great passage from JC Ryle that is extremely timely. It supplements well Justin's series on the 10 great strengths of Anglicanism.
Maybe it ain't all bad after all!
Maybe it ain't all bad after all!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
John Donne: The Reformed Soul
Not a review, but a recommendation:
John Stubbs' book John Donne: The Reformed Soul is a biography from the top draw. Thoroughly enjoyable. Stubbs casts Donne as both genuinely a man before God and someone who at the same time changed with the political weather in order to survive and thrive.
Thankyou, Exiled Preacher for recommending it to me!
John Stubbs' book John Donne: The Reformed Soul is a biography from the top draw. Thoroughly enjoyable. Stubbs casts Donne as both genuinely a man before God and someone who at the same time changed with the political weather in order to survive and thrive.
Thankyou, Exiled Preacher for recommending it to me!
Moffatt on way Anglicanism rocks
Justin has a great series going on the 'Ten Elements of Historic Anglicanism'.
It is great, great stuff: drawing from Barnett and Packer.
Give it a read.
Start here and scroll down to see how Anglicanism is Biblical, Protestant, catholic, Reformed and liturgical - and more to come.
On this last post, I commented:
Trouble is, you can't say, oh, I had A great experience of liturgy last Sunday. All you can say is: the hundreds of Sundays accumulated have made a great experience.
Liturgy is like a habit. It is meant to be repeated so that you don't notice what it is doing (partly). Through liturgy, I know several great passages of scripture by heart, because I was exposed to it as a kid. But a single experience? Harder to pin down.
My kids won't have the same benefit, alas, because liturgy has all but disappeared from our culture.
It is great, great stuff: drawing from Barnett and Packer.
Give it a read.
Start here and scroll down to see how Anglicanism is Biblical, Protestant, catholic, Reformed and liturgical - and more to come.
On this last post, I commented:
Trouble is, you can't say, oh, I had A great experience of liturgy last Sunday. All you can say is: the hundreds of Sundays accumulated have made a great experience.
Liturgy is like a habit. It is meant to be repeated so that you don't notice what it is doing (partly). Through liturgy, I know several great passages of scripture by heart, because I was exposed to it as a kid. But a single experience? Harder to pin down.
My kids won't have the same benefit, alas, because liturgy has all but disappeared from our culture.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Williams, on Williams
Rowan Williams gives a nice, almost lucid summary of his own thought:
...the tradition of 'negative theology' in Christian thinking needs to be be understood not just as a corrective but as something of definitive importance in itseld. It is not just that theologians make positive statemenst and then add 'Mind you, this only applies in a rather extended sense, not too literally.' It is rather that both the subject matter and (for lack of a better word) the style of good theology insist upon a radical change of attitude. A doctrine like that of the Trinity tells us that the very life of God is a yielding or giving-over into the life of an Other, a 'negation' in the sense of refusing to settle for the idea that normative life or personal identity is to be conceived in terms of self-enclosed and self-sufficient unities. The negative is associated with the 'ek-static', the discovery of identity in self-transcending relation. And accordingly, theology itself has to speak in a mode that encourages us to question ourselves, to deny oursleves, in the sense of denying sustems and concepts that are the comfortable possession of individual minds. This means both that theological language has to open out on to a sort of darkness - not the darkness of obscurity or confused ignorance, but the darkness of sheer resistance to the finite mind on the part of the divine. And at the same time, theological language must be the language of a community of persons actively engaged in the common life of building the Body of Christ. (Wrestling with Angels p. xiii)
So: apophatic theology is not an addendum: the whole of theology is shot-through with apophaticism.
...the tradition of 'negative theology' in Christian thinking needs to be be understood not just as a corrective but as something of definitive importance in itseld. It is not just that theologians make positive statemenst and then add 'Mind you, this only applies in a rather extended sense, not too literally.' It is rather that both the subject matter and (for lack of a better word) the style of good theology insist upon a radical change of attitude. A doctrine like that of the Trinity tells us that the very life of God is a yielding or giving-over into the life of an Other, a 'negation' in the sense of refusing to settle for the idea that normative life or personal identity is to be conceived in terms of self-enclosed and self-sufficient unities. The negative is associated with the 'ek-static', the discovery of identity in self-transcending relation. And accordingly, theology itself has to speak in a mode that encourages us to question ourselves, to deny oursleves, in the sense of denying sustems and concepts that are the comfortable possession of individual minds. This means both that theological language has to open out on to a sort of darkness - not the darkness of obscurity or confused ignorance, but the darkness of sheer resistance to the finite mind on the part of the divine. And at the same time, theological language must be the language of a community of persons actively engaged in the common life of building the Body of Christ. (Wrestling with Angels p. xiii)
So: apophatic theology is not an addendum: the whole of theology is shot-through with apophaticism.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
How Suicide Bombing Began...
David Brooks, in the Atlantic Monthly of June 2002, conflates martyrdom and suicide bombing in discussing how since the 1980s Islamic terrorists have changed their tactics:
The red passions of the bombers obliterated the grays of the peace process. Suicide bombing became the tactic of choice, even in circumstances where a terrorist could have planted a bomb and then escaped without injury. Martyrdom became not just a means but an end...
...Recruits are sometimes made to lie in empty graves, so that they can see how peaceful death will be; they are reminded that life will bring sickness, old age, and betrayal. "We were in a constant state of worship," one suicide bomber (who somehow managed to survive his mission) told Hassan. "We told each other that if the Israelis only knew how joyful we were they would whip us to death! Those were the happiest days of my life!"...Martyrdom has replaced Palestinian independence as the main focus of the Arab media. Suicide bombing is, after all, perfectly suited to the television age...
...it's time to face the reality that the best resource the terrorists have is the culture of martyrdom. This culture is presently powerful, but it is potentially fragile. If it can be interrupted, if the passions can be made to recede, then the Palestinians and the Israelis might go back to hating each other in the normal way, and at a distance. As with many addictions, the solution is to go cold turkey.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Christology and martyrdom
[I will return to the write up of the Providence conference soon, promise!]
Reading Stauffer was interesting. He made the rather obvious point that, if martyrdom is read as an imitation of Christ, then it matters a whole lot what your Christology is in the first place. So, he gives an account of martyrdom which applies his reading of NT Christology.
I think this is true of many contemporary accounts of martyrdom which rest on a rather adoptionist Christology and a subjective view of the atonement. Martyrdom is then primarily an exemplary act, an act of spiritual heroism which is sanctified somewhat after the fact. Or it is a primarily political act whose chief significance lies in its disruption and subversion of power. If you see Jesus chiefly as one who stood up to tyrannical authorities, then martyrdom for you will have this meaning too. And also, it is easier to say that anyone who dies standing up to tyrannical authorities is a martyr after the pattern of Jesus.
A traditional account of the person and work of Christ gives very different results. If for example we take the triplex munus Christi of Calvin, imitating Christ's death becomes more specifically related to the unique and unrepeatable work of Christ. And as such, martyrdom must be read as an extension of Christ's work in the power of the Spirit. It isn't an imitation of it, merely: it actually participates, shares in, the sufferings of Christ himself. The martyr does not become prophet, priest and king: but she shares in the prophetic, priestly and royal work of Christ.
The martyr is a prophet after Christ, because it is an act which speaks. It witnesses to the divine - it is an embodied proclamation of the gospel of Christ. It certainly isn't silent: Stephen's great prophetic speech in Acts 7, for example, continues in the tradition of the OT prophets, and shares their fate of rejection.
The martyr performs a priestly act of sacrifice, offering his or her life up on behalf of others. The early martyrologies have no doubt about the blessing that the martyrs were to the churches; but also, that is was by martyrdom that many came to faith. sanguis semen ecclesiae... This is not some blasphemy in suggesting that Christ's work is repeated, or that Christ is resacrificed in some way. Paul is quite clear in 2 Cor that his sufferings are a rounding out of the sufferings of Christ. The martyrs die for the redemption of the world too: not that their blood pays for sin in the sense that Jesus's does, but in the sense that because of them others come to know Christ.
The martyr is enthroned in death: over and over again we hear of them 'receiving a crown (a stephanos, note!). The martyrs 'overcome'; they 'conquer'. Not because they themselves conquer but becuase, in union with Christ and his death, they share in his victory over the powers.
To complement this schema, I should like to apply the great second-generation Lutheran Martin Chemnitz's christology, too - in his 'humiliation/exaltation' pattern. That's the next step.
Reading Stauffer was interesting. He made the rather obvious point that, if martyrdom is read as an imitation of Christ, then it matters a whole lot what your Christology is in the first place. So, he gives an account of martyrdom which applies his reading of NT Christology.
I think this is true of many contemporary accounts of martyrdom which rest on a rather adoptionist Christology and a subjective view of the atonement. Martyrdom is then primarily an exemplary act, an act of spiritual heroism which is sanctified somewhat after the fact. Or it is a primarily political act whose chief significance lies in its disruption and subversion of power. If you see Jesus chiefly as one who stood up to tyrannical authorities, then martyrdom for you will have this meaning too. And also, it is easier to say that anyone who dies standing up to tyrannical authorities is a martyr after the pattern of Jesus.
A traditional account of the person and work of Christ gives very different results. If for example we take the triplex munus Christi of Calvin, imitating Christ's death becomes more specifically related to the unique and unrepeatable work of Christ. And as such, martyrdom must be read as an extension of Christ's work in the power of the Spirit. It isn't an imitation of it, merely: it actually participates, shares in, the sufferings of Christ himself. The martyr does not become prophet, priest and king: but she shares in the prophetic, priestly and royal work of Christ.
The martyr is a prophet after Christ, because it is an act which speaks. It witnesses to the divine - it is an embodied proclamation of the gospel of Christ. It certainly isn't silent: Stephen's great prophetic speech in Acts 7, for example, continues in the tradition of the OT prophets, and shares their fate of rejection.
The martyr performs a priestly act of sacrifice, offering his or her life up on behalf of others. The early martyrologies have no doubt about the blessing that the martyrs were to the churches; but also, that is was by martyrdom that many came to faith. sanguis semen ecclesiae... This is not some blasphemy in suggesting that Christ's work is repeated, or that Christ is resacrificed in some way. Paul is quite clear in 2 Cor that his sufferings are a rounding out of the sufferings of Christ. The martyrs die for the redemption of the world too: not that their blood pays for sin in the sense that Jesus's does, but in the sense that because of them others come to know Christ.
The martyr is enthroned in death: over and over again we hear of them 'receiving a crown (a stephanos, note!). The martyrs 'overcome'; they 'conquer'. Not because they themselves conquer but becuase, in union with Christ and his death, they share in his victory over the powers.
To complement this schema, I should like to apply the great second-generation Lutheran Martin Chemnitz's christology, too - in his 'humiliation/exaltation' pattern. That's the next step.
'Still Deeper' Conference on Friendship
Still Deeper
‘They speak truly but touch on only half the matter:
We must go deeper.’
Day Conference: Friendship
Still Deeper is a new initiative aimed at encouraging people to go Still Deeper in their engagement with theology and culture. God has provided deep resources for living life – sadly these are often ignored. Many long to make the connections between God and the rest of life, to bring evangelical reflection to bear upon all parts of life. Still Deeper is a forum to do that. Our new web based journal will be online shortly, with commissioned articles engaging with a wide variety of issues and topics. Meanwhile, our first Day Conference is on the topic of ‘Friendship’. Our culture enables us to amass friends on Facebook, but leaves many struggling with loneliness in the real world. As technology makes connection easier, we long for depth in friendship. Christian doctrine has not traditionally had much to say about friendship, but there are deep resources in the Bible and Church History that could breathe fresh life into our friendships. We also hope the conference will be a chance to make new friends!
Dr. Brian Crowe will explore from a Christian perspective our culture’s view of friendship. Brian is a political analyst and is married with two children.
Rev. Melvin Tinker (Vicar of St. John’s, Hull) will bring an exposition from the Bible titled ‘Friendship with Jesus: Preconditions and Pitfalls’. Melvin is a well known author of books on issues of culture and theology.
Peter Sanlon will present a doctrinal session that asks if Christian doctrine has anything distinctive and valuable to say about friendship. Peter is writing a doctoral thesis on Augustine’s preaching, at Cambridge University.
Sam Allberry (Student Minister at St. Ebbes, Oxford) will discuss his experiences of friendship in ministry and the student world.
When: Sat. 23rd Feb. ’08, 10am-4pm
Where: The Round Church, Cambridge, CB2 1UB
Cost: Lunch will be provided for a small charge. The event is free and we welcome voluntary contributions to cover costs.
‘They speak truly but touch on only half the matter:
We must go deeper.’
Day Conference: Friendship
Still Deeper is a new initiative aimed at encouraging people to go Still Deeper in their engagement with theology and culture. God has provided deep resources for living life – sadly these are often ignored. Many long to make the connections between God and the rest of life, to bring evangelical reflection to bear upon all parts of life. Still Deeper is a forum to do that. Our new web based journal will be online shortly, with commissioned articles engaging with a wide variety of issues and topics. Meanwhile, our first Day Conference is on the topic of ‘Friendship’. Our culture enables us to amass friends on Facebook, but leaves many struggling with loneliness in the real world. As technology makes connection easier, we long for depth in friendship. Christian doctrine has not traditionally had much to say about friendship, but there are deep resources in the Bible and Church History that could breathe fresh life into our friendships. We also hope the conference will be a chance to make new friends!
Dr. Brian Crowe will explore from a Christian perspective our culture’s view of friendship. Brian is a political analyst and is married with two children.
Rev. Melvin Tinker (Vicar of St. John’s, Hull) will bring an exposition from the Bible titled ‘Friendship with Jesus: Preconditions and Pitfalls’. Melvin is a well known author of books on issues of culture and theology.
Peter Sanlon will present a doctrinal session that asks if Christian doctrine has anything distinctive and valuable to say about friendship. Peter is writing a doctoral thesis on Augustine’s preaching, at Cambridge University.
Sam Allberry (Student Minister at St. Ebbes, Oxford) will discuss his experiences of friendship in ministry and the student world.
When: Sat. 23rd Feb. ’08, 10am-4pm
Where: The Round Church, Cambridge, CB2 1UB
Cost: Lunch will be provided for a small charge. The event is free and we welcome voluntary contributions to cover costs.
Wannenwetsch on Martyrdom
Political Worship is a book with myriad juicy excurses (as well as a compelling central thesis too).
In responding to Milbank, Wannenwetsch writes:
'Here we are forced to remember that it was actually the Church in the form of its martyrs, who refused to submit to the power of those who were stronger, which gave what was perhaps the most forceful political thrust towards the dissolution of the Roman Empire, as people withdrew from the political worship of the Empire. The effect of the Christian martyrs must, of course, not be interpreted to mean that the principle of non-violence proved superior to Roman violence. Their impact was not based on any ontological ascendancy of non-violence over violence. It was due to the fact that the refusal to go along with the worship of the gods of war, who represented the imperial claim to rule, pointed to the question about the authorization or empowerment for such action. If Christians found this empowerment in their worship, that worship did not merely reflect the impossibility of joining in the worship of Roman tyranny; it also showed the possibility of seeing this risky refusal through. Even today, the decisive constructive question of political ethics is the question about the formation of power.' (p. 114)
'If the Christians had viewed their worship as a private domestic cult, they could easily have enjoyed the religious tolerance betsowed by the Roman authorities in this respect, and would have been spared the experience of martyrdom. As it was, martyrdom was inevitable, since the ekklesia was bound from the beginning to celebrate 'political worship'. It could not worship the Lord of the cosmos as the penates were worshipped' it had to do so in a way which its pagan environment could not avoid viewing as an insult to the gods of the state, and was bound to suffer the sanctions imposed upon an 'atheism' hostile to this state...' (p. 148)
In responding to Milbank, Wannenwetsch writes:
'Here we are forced to remember that it was actually the Church in the form of its martyrs, who refused to submit to the power of those who were stronger, which gave what was perhaps the most forceful political thrust towards the dissolution of the Roman Empire, as people withdrew from the political worship of the Empire. The effect of the Christian martyrs must, of course, not be interpreted to mean that the principle of non-violence proved superior to Roman violence. Their impact was not based on any ontological ascendancy of non-violence over violence. It was due to the fact that the refusal to go along with the worship of the gods of war, who represented the imperial claim to rule, pointed to the question about the authorization or empowerment for such action. If Christians found this empowerment in their worship, that worship did not merely reflect the impossibility of joining in the worship of Roman tyranny; it also showed the possibility of seeing this risky refusal through. Even today, the decisive constructive question of political ethics is the question about the formation of power.' (p. 114)
'If the Christians had viewed their worship as a private domestic cult, they could easily have enjoyed the religious tolerance betsowed by the Roman authorities in this respect, and would have been spared the experience of martyrdom. As it was, martyrdom was inevitable, since the ekklesia was bound from the beginning to celebrate 'political worship'. It could not worship the Lord of the cosmos as the penates were worshipped' it had to do so in a way which its pagan environment could not avoid viewing as an insult to the gods of the state, and was bound to suffer the sanctions imposed upon an 'atheism' hostile to this state...' (p. 148)
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Ethelbert Stauffer on 'The Martyr Church'
One of the few New Testament Theologies to pay direct attention to the concept of martyrdom is that of Ethelbert Stauffer, published in the 50s (at least, the English edition).
'We have already remarked how the life of Christ constitutes a prototype for the life of the believer. Nowhere is this pototype more concretely and seriously expressed than in the correlation between th epassion of Christ and the sufferings of the martyr Church.' p. 185
'The man who confesses Christ is taken up into the fellowship of Christ's sufferings; indeed his destiny is conformed to the death of Christ.' p. 185
Stauffer argues that the passion of Christ was envisaged under three themes: doxological, antagonistic and soteriological, and that the imitation of his passion must follow the same pattern.
Thus, martyrdom doxologically undergoes great suffering on the path to glory. Via crucis - via lucis ! What the world rejects, God honours and accepts and even glorifies.
Of course, this rests on the antagonism of the world: 'the doxological interpretation of martyrdom finally comes to expression in an antagonistic conception: the tempter, the accuser, the opponent, the violent enemy and slanderer and evil one, the opponent of the generation of the righteous, puts everything in the wolrd to action so as to effect the downfall of the saints of God, or to destroy them... (p. 186). Hence, the imagery of a battle or a struggle become more and more the stock in trade of the martyrologist - 'It is but a little thing for the Satanic powers of the world to get rid of God's witnesses. But the Christian who has confessed CHrist in his death stands for a power in history that cannot be got rid of, a reality not of this world that the persecutor can never master.'(p. 187)
The soteriological understanding of martyrdom links for Stauffer to the indea of the final massacre of the saints...'The witness who gives his life helps by his death to complete the toll of suffering that God has descreed for the world as punishment and expiation for its sin, so that the divine wrath should be truned and at long last the day of grace should dawn.' (p. 188) Martyrs in this way actually bear the afflictions of Christ in the service of his Church. The bear upon themselves the punishment of the world (after a fashion). Not in quite the decisive way that Christ does of course, but in imitation and conformity to him. After all:
'it is not just the Church of Christ that will benefit from the atoning power of the apostle's sufferings - the confessor suffers for mankind that despises him, the martyr dies for the cosmos that rejects him...the death of the martyrs is a plea for the ending of affliction, culminating as an intercession for the sins of many. (p. 188)
'We have already remarked how the life of Christ constitutes a prototype for the life of the believer. Nowhere is this pototype more concretely and seriously expressed than in the correlation between th epassion of Christ and the sufferings of the martyr Church.' p. 185
'The man who confesses Christ is taken up into the fellowship of Christ's sufferings; indeed his destiny is conformed to the death of Christ.' p. 185
Stauffer argues that the passion of Christ was envisaged under three themes: doxological, antagonistic and soteriological, and that the imitation of his passion must follow the same pattern.
Thus, martyrdom doxologically undergoes great suffering on the path to glory. Via crucis - via lucis ! What the world rejects, God honours and accepts and even glorifies.
Of course, this rests on the antagonism of the world: 'the doxological interpretation of martyrdom finally comes to expression in an antagonistic conception: the tempter, the accuser, the opponent, the violent enemy and slanderer and evil one, the opponent of the generation of the righteous, puts everything in the wolrd to action so as to effect the downfall of the saints of God, or to destroy them... (p. 186). Hence, the imagery of a battle or a struggle become more and more the stock in trade of the martyrologist - 'It is but a little thing for the Satanic powers of the world to get rid of God's witnesses. But the Christian who has confessed CHrist in his death stands for a power in history that cannot be got rid of, a reality not of this world that the persecutor can never master.'(p. 187)
The soteriological understanding of martyrdom links for Stauffer to the indea of the final massacre of the saints...'The witness who gives his life helps by his death to complete the toll of suffering that God has descreed for the world as punishment and expiation for its sin, so that the divine wrath should be truned and at long last the day of grace should dawn.' (p. 188) Martyrs in this way actually bear the afflictions of Christ in the service of his Church. The bear upon themselves the punishment of the world (after a fashion). Not in quite the decisive way that Christ does of course, but in imitation and conformity to him. After all:
'it is not just the Church of Christ that will benefit from the atoning power of the apostle's sufferings - the confessor suffers for mankind that despises him, the martyr dies for the cosmos that rejects him...the death of the martyrs is a plea for the ending of affliction, culminating as an intercession for the sins of many. (p. 188)
Sunday, January 13, 2008
‘Deus Habet Consilium’ - The Providence Conference, Day 1 - III
Alister McGrath - The Secularization of Providence
Though I have read many of his excellent books, I had never up to this point heard Alister McGrath give a lecture. I have to say this was a virtuouso performance in terms of sheer communicative ability and clarity of thought. McGrath is a master lecturer - on top of his material, clear, concise, interesting, on top of power point technology and so on. Very impressive.
His material was very interesting too, and set in train one of the themes of the conference which was the relation between scientific theories of causality (namely, evolution) and theological thought about the same (namely, providence). McGrath began with three issues: Darwinism as a view of reality that leaves no space for Providence; the elimination of the transcendent; and the elimination of Providence as a doctrine. What he was trying to indicate was that we could in fact have Darwinism and Providence, despite what Dawkins and other agrressive atheists say. McGrath was at pains to point out that Dawkins has smuggled in metaphysical claims, stretching Darwinism beyond its brief.
Darwinism has in the hands of Dawkins and co become a worldview - indeed, a totalizing vision of reality. It now operates as the explanatory principle par exellence. But at this point it becomes quite vulnerable. Because it must admit its own provisionality ... A further unresolved tension in Dawkinsism is that between 'rationality' and 'chance'.
(my notes unfortunately peter out somewhat after this point... suffice it to say, McGrath is optimistic about the potential for natural theology. He is giving the Gifford lectures soon, so it should be interesting to see where he goes with this.)
Though I have read many of his excellent books, I had never up to this point heard Alister McGrath give a lecture. I have to say this was a virtuouso performance in terms of sheer communicative ability and clarity of thought. McGrath is a master lecturer - on top of his material, clear, concise, interesting, on top of power point technology and so on. Very impressive.
His material was very interesting too, and set in train one of the themes of the conference which was the relation between scientific theories of causality (namely, evolution) and theological thought about the same (namely, providence). McGrath began with three issues: Darwinism as a view of reality that leaves no space for Providence; the elimination of the transcendent; and the elimination of Providence as a doctrine. What he was trying to indicate was that we could in fact have Darwinism and Providence, despite what Dawkins and other agrressive atheists say. McGrath was at pains to point out that Dawkins has smuggled in metaphysical claims, stretching Darwinism beyond its brief.
Darwinism has in the hands of Dawkins and co become a worldview - indeed, a totalizing vision of reality. It now operates as the explanatory principle par exellence. But at this point it becomes quite vulnerable. Because it must admit its own provisionality ... A further unresolved tension in Dawkinsism is that between 'rationality' and 'chance'.
(my notes unfortunately peter out somewhat after this point... suffice it to say, McGrath is optimistic about the potential for natural theology. He is giving the Gifford lectures soon, so it should be interesting to see where he goes with this.)
Saturday, January 12, 2008
‘Deus Habet Consilium’ - The Providence Conference, Day 1 - II
The second paper was delivered by Prof. Andrew McGowan from Highland Theological College: ‘Providence and Common Grace—A Reformed Perspective’.
McGowan's paper suggested that the Dutch Neo-Calvinist explanation of 'common grace' offers the most promising way forward for Reformed dogmatics. Especially, he commended to us the work of Herman Bavinck. Talking to Prof McGowan later, he told me that Bavinck had been a fairly late discovery for him. The recent translation of his works by John Bolt and others has been not before time.
McGowan began by noting how Calvin's doctrine of common grace gave a very positive account of the human arts and sciences even among the reprobate. That is, God's providence serves to ameliorate the effects of the fall to such a degree that it is possible to see his blessing in human civilisation outside the church. For Calvin, nothing takes place without God's deliberation: he is intimately involved in every aspect of the created order. Calvin was of course prepared to attribute both good and bad harvests to God - he was not prepared to countenance any dualism (this was something contested by others at the conference, notably David Bentley Hart). Calvin does have a doctrine of secondary causation of course: and will not allow the Sovereignty of God to absolve us from blame. But the doctrine is a great encouragement to believers. Though our natural and spiritual gifts are somewhat damaged, we do retain a certain aptitude in the arts and sciences. No splitting of nature and grace for Calvin! Everything good we do is the result of grace. Grace is why human beings are not as bad as they could be.
In post-Reformation theology this identification of nature with grace was continued. But the theme of common grace is not picked up or emphasised in the 17th century documents and confessions, McGowan noted.
It wasn't until ABraham Kuyper that common grace was given its due attention as a doctrine. Kuyper developed the theme on a grand scale, but also he pushed the antithesis between the Christian and the non-Christian. He developed the idea of Christianity as an entire worldview (following the Scot James Orr in this). He also developed his doctrine of sphere sovereignty.
Bavinck's exposition of common grace is, for McGowan, a superior model. He rejected natural theology while maintaining general revelation. Common grace (not nature) is the basis for special grace. Nature and grace are not set in opposition, but rather grace purifies and restores nature. This is a key to Bavinck's theology! There is 'an organic relationship between nature and grace'. This is also a key to his very interesting doctrine of Scripture (which differs from Warfield's rather problematic one).
The fall damaged but did not eradicate the imago dei. But common grace is not enough to restore us. It compels us, but does not change us. Christ does not create an entirely new order, then, but transforms what is. Bavinck roots common grace in the incarnation...
So, where according to his doc of common grace Kuyper advocated the development of Christian institutions - a Christian university, a Christian newspaper, a Christian political party, Christian schooling and so on - Bavinck, who was much closer to Calvin and much more moderate in this, held that the antithesis was of principles and not of people. Common grace properly understood means that we don't have to listen to Christian music: we can observe the operation of common grace in human music making in general.
McGowan left me wanting to purchase the remaining volumes of Bavinck's dogmatics! I wonder too, if one rejoinder to 'creation' 'science' is that it lacks a proper doctrine of common grace in its outright suspicion of non-Christian scientists. It couples paranoia with all its other problems.
McGowan's paper suggested that the Dutch Neo-Calvinist explanation of 'common grace' offers the most promising way forward for Reformed dogmatics. Especially, he commended to us the work of Herman Bavinck. Talking to Prof McGowan later, he told me that Bavinck had been a fairly late discovery for him. The recent translation of his works by John Bolt and others has been not before time.
McGowan began by noting how Calvin's doctrine of common grace gave a very positive account of the human arts and sciences even among the reprobate. That is, God's providence serves to ameliorate the effects of the fall to such a degree that it is possible to see his blessing in human civilisation outside the church. For Calvin, nothing takes place without God's deliberation: he is intimately involved in every aspect of the created order. Calvin was of course prepared to attribute both good and bad harvests to God - he was not prepared to countenance any dualism (this was something contested by others at the conference, notably David Bentley Hart). Calvin does have a doctrine of secondary causation of course: and will not allow the Sovereignty of God to absolve us from blame. But the doctrine is a great encouragement to believers. Though our natural and spiritual gifts are somewhat damaged, we do retain a certain aptitude in the arts and sciences. No splitting of nature and grace for Calvin! Everything good we do is the result of grace. Grace is why human beings are not as bad as they could be.
In post-Reformation theology this identification of nature with grace was continued. But the theme of common grace is not picked up or emphasised in the 17th century documents and confessions, McGowan noted.
It wasn't until ABraham Kuyper that common grace was given its due attention as a doctrine. Kuyper developed the theme on a grand scale, but also he pushed the antithesis between the Christian and the non-Christian. He developed the idea of Christianity as an entire worldview (following the Scot James Orr in this). He also developed his doctrine of sphere sovereignty.
Bavinck's exposition of common grace is, for McGowan, a superior model. He rejected natural theology while maintaining general revelation. Common grace (not nature) is the basis for special grace. Nature and grace are not set in opposition, but rather grace purifies and restores nature. This is a key to Bavinck's theology! There is 'an organic relationship between nature and grace'. This is also a key to his very interesting doctrine of Scripture (which differs from Warfield's rather problematic one).
The fall damaged but did not eradicate the imago dei. But common grace is not enough to restore us. It compels us, but does not change us. Christ does not create an entirely new order, then, but transforms what is. Bavinck roots common grace in the incarnation...
So, where according to his doc of common grace Kuyper advocated the development of Christian institutions - a Christian university, a Christian newspaper, a Christian political party, Christian schooling and so on - Bavinck, who was much closer to Calvin and much more moderate in this, held that the antithesis was of principles and not of people. Common grace properly understood means that we don't have to listen to Christian music: we can observe the operation of common grace in human music making in general.
McGowan left me wanting to purchase the remaining volumes of Bavinck's dogmatics! I wonder too, if one rejoinder to 'creation' 'science' is that it lacks a proper doctrine of common grace in its outright suspicion of non-Christian scientists. It couples paranoia with all its other problems.
‘Deus Habet Consilium’ - The Providence Conference, Day 1 - I
Day one at the Providence conference was 'Protestant dogmatics' day (by and large.) We were given the most curiously diffident welcome by an obviously disinterested University bureaucrat, which contrasted with the air of expectation amongst the conference attendees!
1. Owing to a late arriving plane, Professor John Webster of Aberdeen opened the conference in the place of Katherine Sonderegger with a paper entitled 'On the Theology of Providence'. It was an inspiring beginning, though not designed for note taking I am afraid! Webster gave a characteristically dense thesis statement which he then proceeded to unpack (I wish I could have recorded what it was!). Providence is a contrary doctrine, because it contrasts with our experience of the world. That is what makes its task urgent. Providence is a 'distributed doctrine': in formal terms, its dogmatic location lies both within theology and economy. It must of course preserve its Christian specificity. Most properly, Providence is a description of salvation history. We grasp the knowledge of Providence by faith that is the result of mortification and vivification. And what we have revealed to us is that there is lament, but not tragedy - we realise that God is for us (by the cross). Knowledge of Providence thus becomes practical knowledge - faithful reason's receiving of consolation.
God orders his world out of his divine life and blessedness: he bestows life on the creature, and then sustains it, for he cannot merely 'make'. He gives being for a historical nature. Providence is an expression of the love of God which helps the creature to flourish. It is not only an aspect of cosmology; it is a teaching about the creature's dependence in an ongoing way on the creator. Creation bestows being... which then has its own independence...but needs help to persist. The church is the interim relocation of the goal of the creature.
Of course, the big problems for any doctrine of providence are the creature's freedom, and the problem of evil. How is Providence for the creature's good? Webster asserted that God's governance actually secures the creature's freedom - proper creaturely freedom that is. Freedom is not WON From God, but rather given by him and receieved by creatures. God moves us with an inner movement. As Turretin said, it is the fount of all error to equate liberty with spontaneity. Caused causes are still properly (though secondarily) causes.
Providence is a gospel consolation. But we must reach that comfort at the right pace. Belief in the doctrine of providence is something learned...
1. Owing to a late arriving plane, Professor John Webster of Aberdeen opened the conference in the place of Katherine Sonderegger with a paper entitled 'On the Theology of Providence'. It was an inspiring beginning, though not designed for note taking I am afraid! Webster gave a characteristically dense thesis statement which he then proceeded to unpack (I wish I could have recorded what it was!). Providence is a contrary doctrine, because it contrasts with our experience of the world. That is what makes its task urgent. Providence is a 'distributed doctrine': in formal terms, its dogmatic location lies both within theology and economy. It must of course preserve its Christian specificity. Most properly, Providence is a description of salvation history. We grasp the knowledge of Providence by faith that is the result of mortification and vivification. And what we have revealed to us is that there is lament, but not tragedy - we realise that God is for us (by the cross). Knowledge of Providence thus becomes practical knowledge - faithful reason's receiving of consolation.
God orders his world out of his divine life and blessedness: he bestows life on the creature, and then sustains it, for he cannot merely 'make'. He gives being for a historical nature. Providence is an expression of the love of God which helps the creature to flourish. It is not only an aspect of cosmology; it is a teaching about the creature's dependence in an ongoing way on the creator. Creation bestows being... which then has its own independence...but needs help to persist. The church is the interim relocation of the goal of the creature.
Of course, the big problems for any doctrine of providence are the creature's freedom, and the problem of evil. How is Providence for the creature's good? Webster asserted that God's governance actually secures the creature's freedom - proper creaturely freedom that is. Freedom is not WON From God, but rather given by him and receieved by creatures. God moves us with an inner movement. As Turretin said, it is the fount of all error to equate liberty with spontaneity. Caused causes are still properly (though secondarily) causes.
Providence is a gospel consolation. But we must reach that comfort at the right pace. Belief in the doctrine of providence is something learned...
Friday, January 11, 2008
Yoder on suffering
Yoder says:
...the true missionary congregation is marked by suffering. This suffering, like that of the faithful servant in 1 Peter, is not the result of misbehaviour but of conformity with the path of Christ. It is not the resigned acceptance of limitations or injustice in an imperfect world but the meaningful assuming of the cost of nonconformed obedience.
It is no accident that the word 'martyr' has the double meaning of testimony and innocent suffering. The suffering of the church is not a passing tight spot after which there can be hope of return to normalcy; it is according to both Scripture and experience the continuing destiny of any faithful Christian community... (From The Royal Priesthood p. 86).
Is it the continuing destiny? Is that true of experience, really? If suffering is here persecution, then surely that is not the case experientially. The suffering of the faithful servant in 1 Peter is not the sign of his faithfulness: it is, rather, the very real possibility that he courts. But his duty is not suffering but faithfulness. His faithfulness is the sign rather than his suffering. There is no hope of a return to normalcy, true: but neither is it quite true to say that it is the 'continuing destiny' of any faithful Christian community, as if the lack of suffering was a sign that the plot had been well and truly lost. Suffering itself conveys no dignity of its own.
...the true missionary congregation is marked by suffering. This suffering, like that of the faithful servant in 1 Peter, is not the result of misbehaviour but of conformity with the path of Christ. It is not the resigned acceptance of limitations or injustice in an imperfect world but the meaningful assuming of the cost of nonconformed obedience.
It is no accident that the word 'martyr' has the double meaning of testimony and innocent suffering. The suffering of the church is not a passing tight spot after which there can be hope of return to normalcy; it is according to both Scripture and experience the continuing destiny of any faithful Christian community... (From The Royal Priesthood p. 86).
Is it the continuing destiny? Is that true of experience, really? If suffering is here persecution, then surely that is not the case experientially. The suffering of the faithful servant in 1 Peter is not the sign of his faithfulness: it is, rather, the very real possibility that he courts. But his duty is not suffering but faithfulness. His faithfulness is the sign rather than his suffering. There is no hope of a return to normalcy, true: but neither is it quite true to say that it is the 'continuing destiny' of any faithful Christian community, as if the lack of suffering was a sign that the plot had been well and truly lost. Suffering itself conveys no dignity of its own.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Report from Aberdeen
Kosta Milkov and I headed oop north on Monday for the Providence Conference. And what a feast it turned out to be: 18 top-draw speakers crammed into 3 days. I have to say that the standard of the papers was uniformly high. The organisers should be congratulated for identifying an issue that is evidently on the boil - and attracting an impressive range and calibre of speakers. The one drawback of such a packed programme was that each speaker was allowed a cold hour, which almost all speakers used completely, and so there was very little time for questions and interaction.Time now for some general comments and observed themes - more specific ones to follow. I was interested that Calvin was a prominent and properly celebrated and respected reference point, at least for the Protestant speakers. David Bentley Hart of course made a very significant attack on Calvin's doctrine of providence from an Orthodox perspective, but that Calvin was a reference point at all was, to me, a very significant in modern theology. Aquinas was of course prominent in the more Catholic papers. A key issue it seems to me is what Charles Taylor calls 'the disenchantment': that shift in metaphysics that occured at the time of the reformation which can be seen as the harbinger of the modern scientific and mechanistic world view. By reducing Providence to causation, (the argument runs), the presence of God has been chased out of the world itself. Further, by proclaiming God as Supreme rather than as properly Transcendent, the mistake has been intensified in all Western theology since. Deism and then atheism are inevitable.
Sarah Coakley suggested that a new model of evolution as co-operation might actually complement theology and so end the war between them. This was an interesting countepart to Alister McGrath's paper (what an excellent speaker he is) responding to Dawkins attack on providence. Kathryn Sonderegger proposed that, counter to most traditional accounts, death itself prior to the fall was 'natural', and even a sacrifice the creation offered to its maker. We ought to seperate first and second death, especially in our readings of Romans 5 and so on.
Another strong theme in the conference was the consideration of the use of providence in Public theology. Notwithstanding an inevitable Americo-centricism here, there were three excellent papers on political theology. Oliver O'Donovan's influence was palpable, which makes me very happy: and we had proper and convincing accounts of political engagement and just war (Hauerwasianism is getting rather monolithic and tiresome!). I was especially intrigued by Philip Zeigler's use of the English Civil War and Oliver Cromwell (much maligned of course) in this. Trust in God, and keep your powder dry!!
Of course, the pastoral implications of Providence were never far away, and we had two excellent contributions on this theme. Providence is in a very real sense the ground and comfort of the Christian life.
Anyhow, these are just some first broad brush strokes. More to come!
Monday, January 07, 2008
Off to Aberdeen
Canterbury Cathedral. So far we have visited Worcester, Gloucester, Oxford, Coventry, St Albans, St Paul's London, York, Salisbury and Canterbury.
Tomorrow I fly up to Aberdeen to attend ‘Deus Habet Consilium’ An International Conference on the Career & Prospects of Providence in Modern Theology.
See the conference programme here. I am especially looking forward to Alister McGrath, John Webster, Andrew MacGowan and David Bentley Hart.
My dream is to blog as I go, but I am not sure what internet facilities will be available. So perhaps a full report on Thursday.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Foucault, as often, gets it...
Nice stuff from Michel Foucault. By exomologesis he means the acts of penance by which you show yourself penitent...
Foucault / HERMENEUTICS OF THE SELF
To justify this exomologesis and this renunciation to oneself in manifesting the truth about oneself, Christian fathers had recourse to several models. The well-known medical model was very often used in pagan philosophy: one has to show his wounds to the physicians if he wants to be healed. They also used the judicial model: one always appeases the court when spontaneously confessing the faults. But the most important model to justify the necessity of exomologesis is the model of martyrdom. The martyr is he who prefers to face death rather than to abandon his faith. The sinner abandons the faith in order to keep the life of here below; he will be reinstated only if in his turn he exposes himself voluntarily to a sort of martyrdom to which all will be witnesses, and which is penance, or penance as exolmologesis. Such a demonstration does not therefore have as its function the establishment of the personal identity. Rather, such a demonstration serves to mark this dramatic demonstration of what one is: the refusal of the self, the breaking off from one's self. One recalls what was the objective of Stoic technology: it was to superimpose, as I tried to explain to you last week, the subject of knowledge and the subject of will by means of the perpetual rememorizing of the rules. The formula which is at the heart of exomologesis is, in contrary, ego non sum ego. The exomologesis seeks, in opposition to the Stoic techniques, to superimpose by an act of violent rupture the truth about oneself and the renunciation of oneself. In the ostentatious gestures of maceration, self-revelation in exomologesis is, at the same time, self-destruction.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Justin's MO on preaching
My old old mate Justin Moffatt has a really interesting description of his sermon preparation method here. The results he comes up with are pretty good I think, so I am interested to see how he does it.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
More on Williams and Wiles...
Has Williams succeeded in outflanking Wiles? Has he, in other words, managed to burrow into the world of the text such that krisis – that moment of decision when we are confronted, yea even judged by what we meet in the text – is allowed its prominence? Williams attempts to see from within: but has he smuggled in an objectivism – the kind of objectivism he repudiates – somewhere along the line? Tendenzkritik, that form of criticism most interested in uncovering in the text the interests of various individuals and communities, per definition tends to be hypersuspicious of ‘interests’. It holds as its moral starting point the critique of power itself. Is it not the case, however, that Williams’ version of krisis – his teaching on the judgement of Christ – resembles the values of Tendenzkritik?
That is to say: Williams seems to operate with a definite set of moral presuppositions. For example, he is tentative in his claims about language because of the tendency of individuals and groups to use language – and perhaps religious language more than any other kind – for their own interests. This is what the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth exposes to us, on his account. Williams would argue that Kritik is the right kind of intellectual work prompted by and encounter with Jesus: it takes his judgement and applies it self-critically to the practice of Christian speaking and thinking about God. Yet is it not surely the case that this reading of Jesus, and this application of Jesus’ teaching, is itself generated by the application of critical methods to the New Testament? It goes without saying that the history of New Testament scholarship is dominated by the triumphant revelation by each generation of the prejudices and preferences of the previous one.[1]
My charge is that Williams’ exposition of krisis is a product itself of Kritik, rather than the other way around. The problem is, once Tendenzkritik is in the tank, it tends to devour all the other fish. Where does Kritik end and krisis begin? Can we so readily shift from one to the other? Is this a moral possibility to have a text which is so beset with interest-laden and inadequate human talk as authoritative Scripture, as the catholic church has always held it to be? It is difficult to see how, on Williams account, we can read the New Testament with any confidence that we are able to apply the right filtration to the text and so be judged by it in exactly the right way. Can we really be both radically suspicious and humbly naïve about the text at one and the same time?
[1] See Stephen Neill and N. T. Wright, The Interpretation of the New Testament, 1861-1986, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988).
That is to say: Williams seems to operate with a definite set of moral presuppositions. For example, he is tentative in his claims about language because of the tendency of individuals and groups to use language – and perhaps religious language more than any other kind – for their own interests. This is what the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth exposes to us, on his account. Williams would argue that Kritik is the right kind of intellectual work prompted by and encounter with Jesus: it takes his judgement and applies it self-critically to the practice of Christian speaking and thinking about God. Yet is it not surely the case that this reading of Jesus, and this application of Jesus’ teaching, is itself generated by the application of critical methods to the New Testament? It goes without saying that the history of New Testament scholarship is dominated by the triumphant revelation by each generation of the prejudices and preferences of the previous one.[1]
My charge is that Williams’ exposition of krisis is a product itself of Kritik, rather than the other way around. The problem is, once Tendenzkritik is in the tank, it tends to devour all the other fish. Where does Kritik end and krisis begin? Can we so readily shift from one to the other? Is this a moral possibility to have a text which is so beset with interest-laden and inadequate human talk as authoritative Scripture, as the catholic church has always held it to be? It is difficult to see how, on Williams account, we can read the New Testament with any confidence that we are able to apply the right filtration to the text and so be judged by it in exactly the right way. Can we really be both radically suspicious and humbly naïve about the text at one and the same time?
[1] See Stephen Neill and N. T. Wright, The Interpretation of the New Testament, 1861-1986, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988).
Monday, December 24, 2007
Webster and Inspiration - Verbal Inspiration
I found Webster's book Holy Scripture - A Dogmatic Sketch a very stimulating little book. He mounts a defence - or a restatement - even of the much maligned doctrine of verbal inspiration (chapter 1. p. 30ff.):
'Here we reach the particala veri (ie, limited truth) of the notion of verbal inspiration. Because verbal inspiration was routinely misconstrued (sometimes by its defenders and nearly always by its detractors) as entailing divine dictation, the notion of inspriation has been 'personalised' or 'de-verbalised' and redefined as authorial illumination. This distancing of inspiration from the verbal character of the text is considered to ease the difficulties of offering an account of inspiration by thinking of the words of the text as a purely human arena of activity, whether of authors, redactors or tradents. But the result is again docetic. The implied distinction between (inspired) content and creaturely form is awkward, and very easily makes authorial (or perhaps community) consciousness or experience the real substance of the text, of which the words are the external expressions. This is uncomfortably close to those styles of eucharistic theology in which the sacrament is considered to be a transaction between the gospel and the religious consciousness, to which visible forms are accidently attached. No less than consecration, inspiration concerns the relation of God's communication and specific creaturely forms;
inspiration, that is, involves words...' (p. 37-8)
(Is he thinking of Calvin's view of the Supper here? hmm...) He continues:
'Properly understood, 'verbal' inspiration does not extract words from their field of production or reception, does not make the text a less than historical entity, or make the text itself a divine agent. Nor does it entail neglect of the revelatory presence of God in favour of an account of originary inspiration. It simply indicates the inclusion of texts in the sanctifying work of the Spirit so that they may become fitting vessels of the treasure of the gospel.'
(p. 38)
This 'may become' is not just a case of the Scripture becoming the word of God as it is read by the church: he is definitely ascribing to the process of the text coming into being an inspiration by the Holy Spirit.
'Here we reach the particala veri (ie, limited truth) of the notion of verbal inspiration. Because verbal inspiration was routinely misconstrued (sometimes by its defenders and nearly always by its detractors) as entailing divine dictation, the notion of inspriation has been 'personalised' or 'de-verbalised' and redefined as authorial illumination. This distancing of inspiration from the verbal character of the text is considered to ease the difficulties of offering an account of inspiration by thinking of the words of the text as a purely human arena of activity, whether of authors, redactors or tradents. But the result is again docetic. The implied distinction between (inspired) content and creaturely form is awkward, and very easily makes authorial (or perhaps community) consciousness or experience the real substance of the text, of which the words are the external expressions. This is uncomfortably close to those styles of eucharistic theology in which the sacrament is considered to be a transaction between the gospel and the religious consciousness, to which visible forms are accidently attached. No less than consecration, inspiration concerns the relation of God's communication and specific creaturely forms;
inspiration, that is, involves words...' (p. 37-8)
(Is he thinking of Calvin's view of the Supper here? hmm...) He continues:
'Properly understood, 'verbal' inspiration does not extract words from their field of production or reception, does not make the text a less than historical entity, or make the text itself a divine agent. Nor does it entail neglect of the revelatory presence of God in favour of an account of originary inspiration. It simply indicates the inclusion of texts in the sanctifying work of the Spirit so that they may become fitting vessels of the treasure of the gospel.'
(p. 38)
This 'may become' is not just a case of the Scripture becoming the word of God as it is read by the church: he is definitely ascribing to the process of the text coming into being an inspiration by the Holy Spirit.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Rowan Williams raps with Ricky Gervais
This is an intriguing encounter from an apologists point of view. Mainly because Gervais is floundering and inarticulate, and because Williams just waits. Gervais comes across I think as typical of people one meets: wants to own to the word 'spiritual' and also makes it clear just how moral he is, but 'I am living my life'. He also does the typical race from one question to the next without waiting for an answer. I think the best moment was when Williams says 'is fundamentalist religion the only type of religion?' and Gervais goes on to say something along the lines of, 'well, if God exists he would be full on wouldn't he?' This IS quite a revelation I think - it is a similar line of attack to that of Dawkins. He almost refuses to talk seriously any kind of faith but the most fundamentalist kind, so that he can reject it.
Could Williams have done any better than he does here? I think he plays it quite well to score a 3-0 victory in the face of Gervais's blather. It is hard to play such opposition without sinking to the same level. Gervais is becoming more and more like his alter ego David Brent...
He then went on to an interview where he was reported as having denied the nativity story. What in fact he denied was the extra-biblical legendary materials: the big star, the stable, the donkey, that there were THREE kings (when there were certainly three gifts, but who knows how many Magi) and so on. Then he said you could become a Christian without believing the virgin birth, though he himself believed it. Scarcely controversial - but I guess when you have a name for being controversial, people hear what they expect to hear.
Could Williams have done any better than he does here? I think he plays it quite well to score a 3-0 victory in the face of Gervais's blather. It is hard to play such opposition without sinking to the same level. Gervais is becoming more and more like his alter ego David Brent...
He then went on to an interview where he was reported as having denied the nativity story. What in fact he denied was the extra-biblical legendary materials: the big star, the stable, the donkey, that there were THREE kings (when there were certainly three gifts, but who knows how many Magi) and so on. Then he said you could become a Christian without believing the virgin birth, though he himself believed it. Scarcely controversial - but I guess when you have a name for being controversial, people hear what they expect to hear.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Application in sermons
Preachers find the hardest part of the sermon to craft that bit of the end. No wait: actually, I think we preachers would find it hard if we spent any significant time doing it! Also, I have to say we do a rather one dimensional job of it when we do get to this point.
I was prompted by a youth work book I once read to think of the application as touching on three aspects - because 'spiritual development/maturity' also ought to touch on these three aspects. They are:
KNOWING
FEELING
DOING
We need to move from knowledge about God to a deeper knowledge OF God himself.
We need to move from our experiences of God to a deep affection for him.
We need to move from legalism and disobedience into a life overflowing with good works.
Now, each sermon doesn't have to touch on each of these. But it is a helpful guide, to ask at the end: what did I ask people to do (or as a listener, what was I asked to do) in terms of each of the three aspects. And most sermons could touch on each of these in some way.
I was prompted by a youth work book I once read to think of the application as touching on three aspects - because 'spiritual development/maturity' also ought to touch on these three aspects. They are:
KNOWING
FEELING
DOING
We need to move from knowledge about God to a deeper knowledge OF God himself.
We need to move from our experiences of God to a deep affection for him.
We need to move from legalism and disobedience into a life overflowing with good works.
Now, each sermon doesn't have to touch on each of these. But it is a helpful guide, to ask at the end: what did I ask people to do (or as a listener, what was I asked to do) in terms of each of the three aspects. And most sermons could touch on each of these in some way.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Gender-neutral language
There has been some discussion recently at Sydney Anglicans about gender-neutral or inclusive language and bible translation. Some are holding out, saying that the tide of trendy political correctness is turning, and that we should hold on to the use of 'men' to mean 'humankind'. Certainly, the structure of the English language makes this more convenient.
I remember thinking this through some years ago. What changed it all for me was reading an early 1970s study (so pre-the 'gender neutral language revolution' of the 1980s) that suggested that indeed a majority of women felt excluded when gender-exclusive language was used. Suffice it to say, I haven't been able to track that study down this morning... I read originally in (shock, horror) a book. Remember them?
Since much gender exclusive language is unneccessary to make the meaning absolutely clear, and since I don't wish to give offence except over the gospel (which is offensive enough and does need my offensive behaviour to add to it) I don't think obliging at this point is too much to ask. Indeed, it may even be a good thing: after all, Christians have led the way since the beginning in treating and accepting women as fully human. Shame we have to drag the chain now. And if many, many women report that they feel excluded by such language (and probably the ones NOT in church, so clergymen don't go off and ask your wives!) then it seems important to make a change. True, I went to uni in the late (as opposed to early) 80s and 90s when this was a cause in a way it isn't today, perhaps. But I - even I - find it embarassing and jarring and distracting when I hear an old 1978 NIV passage read out that translates anthropos as 'men' or adds a 'man' when it is unnecessary.
Especially, I feel that this is imperative for those of us who hold more complementarian positions on women's ministry. The accusation is always going to come that this theological position is just a mask for sexism. If it isn't, then wherever genuine sexism is present we need to eradicate it and to show that we are serious about it. This isn't caving in to the culture anymore than having proper procedures for dealing with child abuse is caving in to the culture... don't you think?
[Added later] - It seems to me there are different levels of acceptability for gendered language. You can slip in an occassional 'man' or 'mankind' (meaning 'the human race') and no-one seems to mind too much, especially if you are quoting ('one giant leap for mankind'). But using the male pronoun to represent both is much less acceptable - though a nice alternative to the gendered pronoun in English is harder to find.
I remember thinking this through some years ago. What changed it all for me was reading an early 1970s study (so pre-the 'gender neutral language revolution' of the 1980s) that suggested that indeed a majority of women felt excluded when gender-exclusive language was used. Suffice it to say, I haven't been able to track that study down this morning... I read originally in (shock, horror) a book. Remember them?
Since much gender exclusive language is unneccessary to make the meaning absolutely clear, and since I don't wish to give offence except over the gospel (which is offensive enough and does need my offensive behaviour to add to it) I don't think obliging at this point is too much to ask. Indeed, it may even be a good thing: after all, Christians have led the way since the beginning in treating and accepting women as fully human. Shame we have to drag the chain now. And if many, many women report that they feel excluded by such language (and probably the ones NOT in church, so clergymen don't go off and ask your wives!) then it seems important to make a change. True, I went to uni in the late (as opposed to early) 80s and 90s when this was a cause in a way it isn't today, perhaps. But I - even I - find it embarassing and jarring and distracting when I hear an old 1978 NIV passage read out that translates anthropos as 'men' or adds a 'man' when it is unnecessary.
Especially, I feel that this is imperative for those of us who hold more complementarian positions on women's ministry. The accusation is always going to come that this theological position is just a mask for sexism. If it isn't, then wherever genuine sexism is present we need to eradicate it and to show that we are serious about it. This isn't caving in to the culture anymore than having proper procedures for dealing with child abuse is caving in to the culture... don't you think?
[Added later] - It seems to me there are different levels of acceptability for gendered language. You can slip in an occassional 'man' or 'mankind' (meaning 'the human race') and no-one seems to mind too much, especially if you are quoting ('one giant leap for mankind'). But using the male pronoun to represent both is much less acceptable - though a nice alternative to the gendered pronoun in English is harder to find.
Do they know it's Christmas?
It has taken me 23 years to think these thoughts but:
why would people in chiefly Muslim countries care whether it was Christmas or not?
and
Does it strike you that Bono's line in the song,
namely 'tonight thank God it's them instead of yooooooooooouuuuuu'
is an absolutely awful sentiment?
why would people in chiefly Muslim countries care whether it was Christmas or not?
and
Does it strike you that Bono's line in the song,
namely 'tonight thank God it's them instead of yooooooooooouuuuuu'
is an absolutely awful sentiment?
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Apocalyptic Amillennialism?
From my RTR article 'Left Behind? Christian Eschatology and Society in the Age of Terror' vol 63, 2004.
...We take issue with the eschatologies of pre- and post-millennialists, Moltmann and the liberation theologians. Amillennialism seems a more biblically satisfactory position, although it has a tendency to over-spiritualise the Kingdom’s presence and to embrace a smug ecclesiastical imperialism.[1] However, the re-emergence of the apocalyptic in twentieth century theology, in the tradition of Luther, has restored balance to the biblical horizon. Apocalyptic literature of both Testaments focuses on the sovereignty of God over the cosmos and history, his vindication of his people (involving resurrection) in righteous judgment and his “supernatural” and dramatic intervention in history to bring these things to pass. There is a radical discontinuity between the present, which features a great struggle between good and evil, and the apocalyptic future. The apocalyptic literature of the New Testament picks up the universalism of other passages which speak of the cosmic scope of God’s redemptive act in Christ (1 Cor 15:22, Col 1:19-20, Phil 2:9-11, I Tim 2:4-6), and at the same time paints a clearly separationist picture which rightly reflects the Biblical vision of God’s eternal justice. A decisive irruption into history is indeed necessary for the fulfillment of the times. Even historicist (and Hegelian) Wolfhart Pannenberg admits:
Nothing less than a new heaven and a new earth (Rev 21:1; cf 20:11 and Isa 65:17) is demanded as a prerequisite for the definitive actualizing of the kingdom of God.[2]
[1] Bloesch, op.cit., p.197
[2] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, op.cit., p.584
...We take issue with the eschatologies of pre- and post-millennialists, Moltmann and the liberation theologians. Amillennialism seems a more biblically satisfactory position, although it has a tendency to over-spiritualise the Kingdom’s presence and to embrace a smug ecclesiastical imperialism.[1] However, the re-emergence of the apocalyptic in twentieth century theology, in the tradition of Luther, has restored balance to the biblical horizon. Apocalyptic literature of both Testaments focuses on the sovereignty of God over the cosmos and history, his vindication of his people (involving resurrection) in righteous judgment and his “supernatural” and dramatic intervention in history to bring these things to pass. There is a radical discontinuity between the present, which features a great struggle between good and evil, and the apocalyptic future. The apocalyptic literature of the New Testament picks up the universalism of other passages which speak of the cosmic scope of God’s redemptive act in Christ (1 Cor 15:22, Col 1:19-20, Phil 2:9-11, I Tim 2:4-6), and at the same time paints a clearly separationist picture which rightly reflects the Biblical vision of God’s eternal justice. A decisive irruption into history is indeed necessary for the fulfillment of the times. Even historicist (and Hegelian) Wolfhart Pannenberg admits:
Nothing less than a new heaven and a new earth (Rev 21:1; cf 20:11 and Isa 65:17) is demanded as a prerequisite for the definitive actualizing of the kingdom of God.[2]
[1] Bloesch, op.cit., p.197
[2] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, op.cit., p.584
Monday, December 17, 2007
Criteria for success?
An important task for the writer of a thesis is to set himself some criteria by which the success of his argument might be rated.
In my case, I am setting up my argument as a response to a Rushdie-led attack on the life which is given shape by Christian martyrdom. How will I be able to measure my success in this?
1 - If I can show that Rushdie has mis-described Christian martyrdom, or at least, that his account of martyrdom, while fitting for some religious and even some Christian martyrdoms, does not fit for authentic Christian martyrdom. It is just not accurate. So, his critique won't stick, though we may welcome the chance to clarify things.
2 - Further, Rushdie's concerns for human life and identity that he thinks are corrupted or negated by Christian martyrdom are actually affirmed by them. The human aspirations and longings that he records are actually fulfilled or better fulfilled in the Christian self-understanding.
3 - But: we don't necessarily want to accept the terms of the discussion as set by Rushdie and others. My aim is not to win according to the terms he sets, but to through his terms into question. This I fear happens with a number of theological accounts of martyrdom where the concept is so broadened to include people who die for liberal or democratic or tolerant values. To include someone that Rushdie accepts is not my idea of victory. Gandhi was not a Christian martyr, however noble he was. Neither do I want to be reduced to a consequentialist debate. That would undo the whole point of martyrdom, which is a witness to 'another' reality.
4 - If I can show that the martyr's life and death has an explanatory power that continues to be compelling for human life, then I will have succeeded (I like to imagine). That is, to show that martyrdom is a form of 'piety', but that 'piety' is utterly transformed under the acid of martyrdom, so that we accept the challenge of the Rushdies but do not accept entire their framing of the challenge...
In my case, I am setting up my argument as a response to a Rushdie-led attack on the life which is given shape by Christian martyrdom. How will I be able to measure my success in this?
1 - If I can show that Rushdie has mis-described Christian martyrdom, or at least, that his account of martyrdom, while fitting for some religious and even some Christian martyrdoms, does not fit for authentic Christian martyrdom. It is just not accurate. So, his critique won't stick, though we may welcome the chance to clarify things.
2 - Further, Rushdie's concerns for human life and identity that he thinks are corrupted or negated by Christian martyrdom are actually affirmed by them. The human aspirations and longings that he records are actually fulfilled or better fulfilled in the Christian self-understanding.
3 - But: we don't necessarily want to accept the terms of the discussion as set by Rushdie and others. My aim is not to win according to the terms he sets, but to through his terms into question. This I fear happens with a number of theological accounts of martyrdom where the concept is so broadened to include people who die for liberal or democratic or tolerant values. To include someone that Rushdie accepts is not my idea of victory. Gandhi was not a Christian martyr, however noble he was. Neither do I want to be reduced to a consequentialist debate. That would undo the whole point of martyrdom, which is a witness to 'another' reality.
4 - If I can show that the martyr's life and death has an explanatory power that continues to be compelling for human life, then I will have succeeded (I like to imagine). That is, to show that martyrdom is a form of 'piety', but that 'piety' is utterly transformed under the acid of martyrdom, so that we accept the challenge of the Rushdies but do not accept entire their framing of the challenge...
The Census - Luke 2:1
Luke starts off his Christmas narrative by locating it quite precisely in time and space: 'it happened in those days that there came a decree from Caesar Augustus to make a census of all the inhabited world'. This was, as Luke explains, the first census during the time that Quirinius was governor of Syria.
Why do governors make censuses? I suppose in the democratic-bureaucratic states in which most of us live, the act of census making appears perfectly innocent - it allows the government to better allocate resources for health care and policing and roads, for example. Or at least we are able to overlook its more sinister possibilities because of the benefits we receive. But for the ancient world the act of making a census was not for the benefit of the ruled so much as for the ruler. An accurate census meant more effective and lucrative taxation. It meant quite clearly that the known world was under the Roman thumb. It was an act of peace-making, in a way: because it meant the subduing and ordering of the peoples of the earth. It was surveillance as best the ancient world could do it. This was the mighty and divine Augustus, declaring that the pax Romanum had come upon the earth.
And, as governmental decrees tend to, it meant a bureaucratic inconvenience for the little person on the fringe. Even heavily pregnant women had to make a journey in order to fall in with the Roman programme.
Why do governors make censuses? I suppose in the democratic-bureaucratic states in which most of us live, the act of census making appears perfectly innocent - it allows the government to better allocate resources for health care and policing and roads, for example. Or at least we are able to overlook its more sinister possibilities because of the benefits we receive. But for the ancient world the act of making a census was not for the benefit of the ruled so much as for the ruler. An accurate census meant more effective and lucrative taxation. It meant quite clearly that the known world was under the Roman thumb. It was an act of peace-making, in a way: because it meant the subduing and ordering of the peoples of the earth. It was surveillance as best the ancient world could do it. This was the mighty and divine Augustus, declaring that the pax Romanum had come upon the earth.
And, as governmental decrees tend to, it meant a bureaucratic inconvenience for the little person on the fringe. Even heavily pregnant women had to make a journey in order to fall in with the Roman programme.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Publication of some reviews: Anvil and Churchman
Hey, I have had two reviews published just recently. One is of Vanhoozer's The Drama of Doctrine and finds itself in the latest Anvil 24/3.
The other is in Churchman 121/4 and is of the first two volumes of Goldingay's Old Testament Theology.
Just thought you might like to know...
The other is in Churchman 121/4 and is of the first two volumes of Goldingay's Old Testament Theology.
Just thought you might like to know...
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The Men Who Stare At Goats
Hearing reports about CIA agents torturing terror suspects chills me to the bone. Turns out this 'conspiracy' had the ring of truth after all. It reminded me of this review I wrote a couple of years back:
After The Da Vinci Code I have learnt not to trust books that begin by saying that “this is a true story.” It is pretty much an admission by the author that what is contained within the covers of the work is, well, unbelievable. It has a plausibility problem.
And I am not prone to believe conspiracy theories. Yes, the Apollo moon landings did occur. No, the CIA and the Mafia didn’t shoot JFK: Lee Harvey Oswald did it.
But the more bizarre elements of Jon Ronson’s The Men Who Stare At Goats are anchored in a disturbing reality that we know to be the truth. The shocking images from the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq were too weird, too perfectly calculated to do psycho-sexual and cultural damage, to be merely a case of a couple of bored, barely literate prison guards having a lark.
What mentality, what tactic, lead to the pyramids of naked prisoners? Recent reports of Australian Mamdouh Habib being splattered with the menstrual blood of prostitutes while in captivity at Guantanamo Bay are entirely in keeping with the species of prisoner interrogation displayed at Abu Ghraib.
Ronson’s story is a meandering series of interviews with ex-army personnel, false trails, intriguing rumours and investigative journalism. He struggles to make sense of it all, a feeling I, for one, share. One way of reading the story is this: that following the embarrassment of Vietnam the US military has invested heavily in alternative forms of warfare, including experiments in the paranormal. According to Ronson’s sources, they even had men trying to kill goats just by staring at them. That would, I guess, give an army a certain advantage over the enemy.
In the 1970s, Vietnam vet and lieutenant colonel named Jim Channon wrote a book called The First Earth Battalion Operations Manual. Channon imagined an army of the New Age, whose soldiers “would carry with them into hostile countries ‘symbolic animals’ such as baby lambs” (p.41). They would greet the enemy with “sparkly eyes” and give them an “automatic hug.” Ambient music would be broadcast to pacify the enemy. He presented his ideas to the top brass…
Only, once the military regained its confidence, it saw that some of the ideas in the manual could be used to shatter people rather than to heal them. Loud and repetitive music (rather than noodling ambient sounds) has been used by the Psychological Operations (PsyOps) group in Panama, at the Waco siege in Texas, in Iraq and at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. The theme tune to children’s programme Barney the Dinosaur was blasted at some Iraqi detainees in a shipping container in the desert, as well as some Sesame Street favourites. Ronson records a hilarious interview with composer of some of the melodies used, who considers claiming royalties; and then he visits the PsyOps HQ to inspect their CD collection. They have Avril Lavigne, apparently.
Are the US military really experimenting with parapsychology and having battalions of men stare at goats? Some of the people Ronson interviews seem to have the obsessive intensity of the truly unhinged and lack credibility. But then – they would, wouldn’t they?
There certainly are some pretty unorthodox methods being used by the US to wage war and interrogate captives. Would it really be surprising if it were true?
The point is that the War on Terror particularly and the defence of freedom generally have produced an odd kind of paranoia among some people who have the power and resources to put their whacky ideas into practice.
But there is a blindness to see that this is in itself terror of another kind. The symbolic terror of the destruction of the two towers has its counterpart in the utter shaming of the bodies and minds of these hapless captives. The ideological madness of the religious extremists on the one side is well matched by this furtive nuttiness on the side of the forces of freedom. It makes George W. Bush’s appeal (in his second inaugural address) to a common humanity made in the image of the creator ring more than a little hollow.
After The Da Vinci Code I have learnt not to trust books that begin by saying that “this is a true story.” It is pretty much an admission by the author that what is contained within the covers of the work is, well, unbelievable. It has a plausibility problem.
And I am not prone to believe conspiracy theories. Yes, the Apollo moon landings did occur. No, the CIA and the Mafia didn’t shoot JFK: Lee Harvey Oswald did it.
But the more bizarre elements of Jon Ronson’s The Men Who Stare At Goats are anchored in a disturbing reality that we know to be the truth. The shocking images from the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq were too weird, too perfectly calculated to do psycho-sexual and cultural damage, to be merely a case of a couple of bored, barely literate prison guards having a lark.
What mentality, what tactic, lead to the pyramids of naked prisoners? Recent reports of Australian Mamdouh Habib being splattered with the menstrual blood of prostitutes while in captivity at Guantanamo Bay are entirely in keeping with the species of prisoner interrogation displayed at Abu Ghraib.
Ronson’s story is a meandering series of interviews with ex-army personnel, false trails, intriguing rumours and investigative journalism. He struggles to make sense of it all, a feeling I, for one, share. One way of reading the story is this: that following the embarrassment of Vietnam the US military has invested heavily in alternative forms of warfare, including experiments in the paranormal. According to Ronson’s sources, they even had men trying to kill goats just by staring at them. That would, I guess, give an army a certain advantage over the enemy.
In the 1970s, Vietnam vet and lieutenant colonel named Jim Channon wrote a book called The First Earth Battalion Operations Manual. Channon imagined an army of the New Age, whose soldiers “would carry with them into hostile countries ‘symbolic animals’ such as baby lambs” (p.41). They would greet the enemy with “sparkly eyes” and give them an “automatic hug.” Ambient music would be broadcast to pacify the enemy. He presented his ideas to the top brass…
Only, once the military regained its confidence, it saw that some of the ideas in the manual could be used to shatter people rather than to heal them. Loud and repetitive music (rather than noodling ambient sounds) has been used by the Psychological Operations (PsyOps) group in Panama, at the Waco siege in Texas, in Iraq and at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. The theme tune to children’s programme Barney the Dinosaur was blasted at some Iraqi detainees in a shipping container in the desert, as well as some Sesame Street favourites. Ronson records a hilarious interview with composer of some of the melodies used, who considers claiming royalties; and then he visits the PsyOps HQ to inspect their CD collection. They have Avril Lavigne, apparently.
Are the US military really experimenting with parapsychology and having battalions of men stare at goats? Some of the people Ronson interviews seem to have the obsessive intensity of the truly unhinged and lack credibility. But then – they would, wouldn’t they?
There certainly are some pretty unorthodox methods being used by the US to wage war and interrogate captives. Would it really be surprising if it were true?
The point is that the War on Terror particularly and the defence of freedom generally have produced an odd kind of paranoia among some people who have the power and resources to put their whacky ideas into practice.
But there is a blindness to see that this is in itself terror of another kind. The symbolic terror of the destruction of the two towers has its counterpart in the utter shaming of the bodies and minds of these hapless captives. The ideological madness of the religious extremists on the one side is well matched by this furtive nuttiness on the side of the forces of freedom. It makes George W. Bush’s appeal (in his second inaugural address) to a common humanity made in the image of the creator ring more than a little hollow.
The Sin of Impiety
What disturbed the pagans about the Christians?
That in itself is a tricky historical question. But, broadly speaking, the first Christians stood accused of impiety. That word or its opposite is actually used often in the martyr-acts in the interrogation of the suspects, and despite the Christians protesting that in fact they were dutiful citizens in good standing with everybody, they could not go forward and sacrifice to the Emperor in order to maintain the peace. That is to say, their lack of worshipful regard for the spirits that were held to be the guarantors of social order and agricultural fruitfulness caused their neighbours no end of worry. Tertullian famously wrote (in Apologeticum 40): "If the Tiber rises so high it floods the walls, or the Nile so low it doesn't flood the fields, if the earth opens, or the heavens don't, if there is famine, if there is plague, instantly the howl goes up, "The Christians to the lion!" What, all of them? to a single lion?" Ha ha. Christians were labelled atheists because of their impiety.
I have mentioned Jeffrey Stout's definition of piety before:
Piety ... is not to be understood primarily as a felling, expressed in acts of devotion, but rather as a virtue, a morally excellent aspect of character. It consists in just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress through life. Family, political community, the natural world, and God are all said to be sources on which we depend, sources to be acknowledged appropriately.
We need to forget the use of piety in its strictly religious sense. In Stout's sense, there remains today a properly social piety: that 'just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress'. These may be entirely material: so, the nostrums of liberal order - free speech, rights, freedom of/from religion, equality and so on, need to be treated with due regard. They can even be sung about. It is interesting that 'good luck' or 'fate' still looms large in contemporary vision of piety, since whatever good fortune we enjoy is a result of the turn of the wheel in our favour. And so, modern culture is replete with sacrifices to fortune - in the form of gambling and divinisation; and also defences erected against the arbitrary turns of the wheel (life insurance anyone?). Also, the almost sacred regard family enjoys, even today, comes unexpectedly to those who continually rail against its demise. Environmentalism (rightly) appeals to piety in this sense.
Is it fair to say that Christians stand once again accused of impiety: for we give scant regard to 'luck', or ought not to. More importantly perhaps, we with other religious people threaten the fragile and hard won peace of our communities by bringing our beliefs to the table. Or, by becoming another special interest lobby group we cut ourselves off from our community and the duties of membership in it. We deny the absoluteness of family ties (or ought to); we shockingly tell young people that they ought not to pursue material goals or pleasure as their priority. By suggesting that all religions are not the same we again stand accused of threatening the social order, of inflaming 'religious hatred' or whatever...
That in itself is a tricky historical question. But, broadly speaking, the first Christians stood accused of impiety. That word or its opposite is actually used often in the martyr-acts in the interrogation of the suspects, and despite the Christians protesting that in fact they were dutiful citizens in good standing with everybody, they could not go forward and sacrifice to the Emperor in order to maintain the peace. That is to say, their lack of worshipful regard for the spirits that were held to be the guarantors of social order and agricultural fruitfulness caused their neighbours no end of worry. Tertullian famously wrote (in Apologeticum 40): "If the Tiber rises so high it floods the walls, or the Nile so low it doesn't flood the fields, if the earth opens, or the heavens don't, if there is famine, if there is plague, instantly the howl goes up, "The Christians to the lion!" What, all of them? to a single lion?" Ha ha. Christians were labelled atheists because of their impiety.
I have mentioned Jeffrey Stout's definition of piety before:
Piety ... is not to be understood primarily as a felling, expressed in acts of devotion, but rather as a virtue, a morally excellent aspect of character. It consists in just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress through life. Family, political community, the natural world, and God are all said to be sources on which we depend, sources to be acknowledged appropriately.
We need to forget the use of piety in its strictly religious sense. In Stout's sense, there remains today a properly social piety: that 'just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress'. These may be entirely material: so, the nostrums of liberal order - free speech, rights, freedom of/from religion, equality and so on, need to be treated with due regard. They can even be sung about. It is interesting that 'good luck' or 'fate' still looms large in contemporary vision of piety, since whatever good fortune we enjoy is a result of the turn of the wheel in our favour. And so, modern culture is replete with sacrifices to fortune - in the form of gambling and divinisation; and also defences erected against the arbitrary turns of the wheel (life insurance anyone?). Also, the almost sacred regard family enjoys, even today, comes unexpectedly to those who continually rail against its demise. Environmentalism (rightly) appeals to piety in this sense.
Is it fair to say that Christians stand once again accused of impiety: for we give scant regard to 'luck', or ought not to. More importantly perhaps, we with other religious people threaten the fragile and hard won peace of our communities by bringing our beliefs to the table. Or, by becoming another special interest lobby group we cut ourselves off from our community and the duties of membership in it. We deny the absoluteness of family ties (or ought to); we shockingly tell young people that they ought not to pursue material goals or pleasure as their priority. By suggesting that all religions are not the same we again stand accused of threatening the social order, of inflaming 'religious hatred' or whatever...
Charles Taylor - A Secular Age III
Taylor's book is studded with great insights, and written with the lucidity of a chat over coffee. I have interrupted the story of the switch from the porous self to the buffered self to dip into the book at more random places today. This stood out, given my recent thinking about matters papal:
The secular age is schizophrenic, or better, deeply cross-pressured. People seem at a safe distance from religion; and yet they are very moved to know that there are dedicated believers, like Mother Teresa. The unbelieving world, well used to disliking Pius XII, was bowled over by John XXIII. A Pope just had to sound like a Christian, and many immemorial resistances melted...It's as though many people who don't want to follow want nevertheless to hear the message of Christ, want it to be proclaimed out there. The paradox was evident in the response to the late Pope. Many people were inspired by John Paul's public perpatetic preaching, about love, about world peace, about international economic justice. They are thrilled that these things are being said. But even many Catholics among his admireres didn't feel that they must follow his all his moral injunctions... (p. 727)
What does this mean for a diocese at mission, like the Sydney diocese?
The secular age is schizophrenic, or better, deeply cross-pressured. People seem at a safe distance from religion; and yet they are very moved to know that there are dedicated believers, like Mother Teresa. The unbelieving world, well used to disliking Pius XII, was bowled over by John XXIII. A Pope just had to sound like a Christian, and many immemorial resistances melted...It's as though many people who don't want to follow want nevertheless to hear the message of Christ, want it to be proclaimed out there. The paradox was evident in the response to the late Pope. Many people were inspired by John Paul's public perpatetic preaching, about love, about world peace, about international economic justice. They are thrilled that these things are being said. But even many Catholics among his admireres didn't feel that they must follow his all his moral injunctions... (p. 727)
What does this mean for a diocese at mission, like the Sydney diocese?
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
On the Religion Report talking about Benedict's encyclical
You can listen to a discussion I had with the ABC's Stephen Crittenden on Benedict XVI's latest encyclical here. It is about 44 mins into the programme.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Buffered self vs porous self
Sounds kind of painful, doesn't it? But this is the way Charles Taylor describes the difference between the outlook of the individual of 1500 and the contemporary person.
The pre-modern self is 'porous' because it thought of itself as deeply situated in an enchanted world and open to being influenced and signified by forces emanating from that world.
The 'buffered' self of modernity considers its purposes and meanings as arising not from without but from within.
Take emotions for example: a depressed porous self may consider himself prey to cosmic realities that can affect us. Suffering from melancholy, he may cite the presence of black bile which is not the cause of melancholy: it IS melancholy. The depression is part of being embedded in a universe redolent with meanings. He is in the grip of the real thing.
The depressed buffered self on the other hand will be able to take a step of disengagement from his feelings by saying 'it is just my body chemistry' - and take a pill. The chemistry doesn't have the meaning - it just feels that way.
How did this change in perspective come about? Well, I do think the Reformation had more than a little to do with it. That is, there was a specifically theological change of tack that led to the disenchantment of the universe. I wonder if Taylor shares this thought...
The pre-modern self is 'porous' because it thought of itself as deeply situated in an enchanted world and open to being influenced and signified by forces emanating from that world.
The 'buffered' self of modernity considers its purposes and meanings as arising not from without but from within.
Take emotions for example: a depressed porous self may consider himself prey to cosmic realities that can affect us. Suffering from melancholy, he may cite the presence of black bile which is not the cause of melancholy: it IS melancholy. The depression is part of being embedded in a universe redolent with meanings. He is in the grip of the real thing.
The depressed buffered self on the other hand will be able to take a step of disengagement from his feelings by saying 'it is just my body chemistry' - and take a pill. The chemistry doesn't have the meaning - it just feels that way.
How did this change in perspective come about? Well, I do think the Reformation had more than a little to do with it. That is, there was a specifically theological change of tack that led to the disenchantment of the universe. I wonder if Taylor shares this thought...
Friday, December 07, 2007
A attempt at a renewed outline... (notice Eliot has disappered!)
Martyrdom is an dramatisation of the Christian self-understanding. As such it highlights the dissonance between the Christian and non-Christian views of human freedom, fulfillment and meaning. In fact, Salman Rushdie articulates a very powerful stream of anti-religious sentiment within secular western culture which specifically targets that religious self-understanding that would result in a person's death like this. He accuses martyrs of a dishonest way of approaching death, of an inauthentic selfhood, of a hatred of pleasure and a denial of the goodness of the world, of self-interest and tribalism, of promoting social disorder and stifling human aspirations.
How might Christians respond to this vigorous critique and yet maintain their identity and witness as Christians? Well, a number of possible and tempting reconciliations are on offer. Martha Nussbaum suggests that Christians are too narrow and inflexible in their approach, and ought to broaden their moral sources. Richard Rorty appeals to us to hold our metaphysical commitments at arms length, especially in public. Roger Scruton appeals to duty to the national identity. Following these is more an accusation than a temptation: that martyrdom really just reveals how egotistical Christianity is and Christians are.
However none of these suggestions proves adequate to both....
How might Christians respond to this vigorous critique and yet maintain their identity and witness as Christians? Well, a number of possible and tempting reconciliations are on offer. Martha Nussbaum suggests that Christians are too narrow and inflexible in their approach, and ought to broaden their moral sources. Richard Rorty appeals to us to hold our metaphysical commitments at arms length, especially in public. Roger Scruton appeals to duty to the national identity. Following these is more an accusation than a temptation: that martyrdom really just reveals how egotistical Christianity is and Christians are.
However none of these suggestions proves adequate to both....
Charles Taylor - A Secular Age
Well Charles Taylor's mighty effort A Secular Age is here. I am daunted by the prospect: I am still chewing over things I learnt in Sources of the Self.
His opening ploy is to say that the word 'secular' has been used in three senses. 'Secularity 1' describes the secularisation of public spaces - it is the official separation of church and state for example, or the insistence that religious arguments be inadmissable in public debate.
'Secularity 2' however has come about at pretty much the same time. And that is the decline of religious belief and practice. Now, S1 needn't mean S2: in the US there is a very strong sense of S1 but if anything a stronger sense that S2 is not occuring.
But Taylor's object in this study is S3: which he says 'consists of new conditions of belief; it consists in a new shape to the experience which prompts to and is defined by belief; in a new context in which all search and questioning about the moral and spiritual must proceed.' (p. 20) Or, earlier he says 'the change I want to define and trace is on e which takes us from a society in which it was virtually impossible not to believe in God, to one in which faith, even for the staunchest believer, is one possibility among others...Belief in God is no longer axiomatic. There are alternatives.'
Secularity in this sense is a whole context of understanding, in which our moral/religious quest takes place. Taylor interestingly argues that S1 did not bring about S2, as is commonly thought: but it did bring about or had a share in bringing about S3...
His opening ploy is to say that the word 'secular' has been used in three senses. 'Secularity 1' describes the secularisation of public spaces - it is the official separation of church and state for example, or the insistence that religious arguments be inadmissable in public debate.
'Secularity 2' however has come about at pretty much the same time. And that is the decline of religious belief and practice. Now, S1 needn't mean S2: in the US there is a very strong sense of S1 but if anything a stronger sense that S2 is not occuring.
But Taylor's object in this study is S3: which he says 'consists of new conditions of belief; it consists in a new shape to the experience which prompts to and is defined by belief; in a new context in which all search and questioning about the moral and spiritual must proceed.' (p. 20) Or, earlier he says 'the change I want to define and trace is on e which takes us from a society in which it was virtually impossible not to believe in God, to one in which faith, even for the staunchest believer, is one possibility among others...Belief in God is no longer axiomatic. There are alternatives.'
Secularity in this sense is a whole context of understanding, in which our moral/religious quest takes place. Taylor interestingly argues that S1 did not bring about S2, as is commonly thought: but it did bring about or had a share in bringing about S3...
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Jerry Springer the Opera
This story about an evangelical Christian group who have sought to prosecute the director of the BBC on the basis of blasphemy laws in the United Kingdom got right up my nose for a couple of reasons.
One is that Christians have to stop taking offence on behalf of Jesus. Taking offence is exactly what secular liberals expect religious people to do - to respond irrationally and emotionally to the negative or irreverent depiction of religious subject matter. It is what Islamic groups do. To then seek protection from the law is entirely counter-productive, as was demonstrated in this case. Challenged to act on the blasphemy laws, the court actually said that broadcasts and theatrical performances were exempt from them. So, the result is a huge net loss for the Christian cause: whereas previously performers might have restrained themselves, they now have a legal ruling that they can say and show what they like vis a vis Christianity. Good job, Christian Voice!
But, having said that: the liberal or humanist voices that jump up to defend the likes of Jerry Springer the Opera as an important work of art or what have you are having a laugh. JStO - I viewed part of it on the BBC - is a deliberately offensive and crass piece of undergraduate drama that has been given far too much publicity. It is a shame that in our society the BBC (for example) couldn't make the free decision to respect the beliefs of many of its licence-paying subscribers and not show it because it trampled underfoot something they hold precious. Why does it have to see something like this as 'cutting edge television'?
Further, the court ruled that because there were no negative effects - no riots, no marches, no mass civil disobedience, (actually, there were some very civilised protest marches) - that blasphemy could not be upheld. These were the words of the ruling:
The play had been performed regularly in major theatres in London for a period of nearly two years without any sign of it undermining society or occasioning civil strife or unrest...
Since when was strife the yardstick for blasphemy? And in order to receive protection from the blasphemy laws, do Christians have to act like some Muslims did - that is, disgracefully - when the Danish cartoon fiasco occurred?
As I said, Jesus's name will be honoured without the help of blasphemy laws: and it is to the loss of those involved in the Jerry Springer production if they don't see it yet. It is a matter for weeping, not protesting.
One is that Christians have to stop taking offence on behalf of Jesus. Taking offence is exactly what secular liberals expect religious people to do - to respond irrationally and emotionally to the negative or irreverent depiction of religious subject matter. It is what Islamic groups do. To then seek protection from the law is entirely counter-productive, as was demonstrated in this case. Challenged to act on the blasphemy laws, the court actually said that broadcasts and theatrical performances were exempt from them. So, the result is a huge net loss for the Christian cause: whereas previously performers might have restrained themselves, they now have a legal ruling that they can say and show what they like vis a vis Christianity. Good job, Christian Voice!
But, having said that: the liberal or humanist voices that jump up to defend the likes of Jerry Springer the Opera as an important work of art or what have you are having a laugh. JStO - I viewed part of it on the BBC - is a deliberately offensive and crass piece of undergraduate drama that has been given far too much publicity. It is a shame that in our society the BBC (for example) couldn't make the free decision to respect the beliefs of many of its licence-paying subscribers and not show it because it trampled underfoot something they hold precious. Why does it have to see something like this as 'cutting edge television'?
Further, the court ruled that because there were no negative effects - no riots, no marches, no mass civil disobedience, (actually, there were some very civilised protest marches) - that blasphemy could not be upheld. These were the words of the ruling:
The play had been performed regularly in major theatres in London for a period of nearly two years without any sign of it undermining society or occasioning civil strife or unrest...
Since when was strife the yardstick for blasphemy? And in order to receive protection from the blasphemy laws, do Christians have to act like some Muslims did - that is, disgracefully - when the Danish cartoon fiasco occurred?
As I said, Jesus's name will be honoured without the help of blasphemy laws: and it is to the loss of those involved in the Jerry Springer production if they don't see it yet. It is a matter for weeping, not protesting.
Jeffrey Stout and Piety II
Piety - an intriguing notion. It was precisely for lack of piety - meaning that mix of civil and religious duty - that the early martyrs were killed.
I think the accusation is still very much in play: Christians, if/when they are faithful witnesses, stand accused of impiety against the liberal secular order.
Stout describes modern piety thus:
Piety ... is not to be understood primarily as a felling, expressed in acts of devotion, but rather as a virtue, a morally excellent aspect of character. It consists in just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress through life. Family, political community, the natural wolrd, and God are all said to be sources on which we depend, sources to be acknowledged appropriately. Emersonians and Augustinians agree that piety, in this sense, is a crucial virtue, and they share an interest in clarifying the proper relationship between civic and religious piety. But they disagree over how the sourecs should be conceived and what constitutes appropriate acknowledgment of our dependence on them. ( Democracy and Tradition, p. 20)
I think the accusation is still very much in play: Christians, if/when they are faithful witnesses, stand accused of impiety against the liberal secular order.
Stout describes modern piety thus:
Piety ... is not to be understood primarily as a felling, expressed in acts of devotion, but rather as a virtue, a morally excellent aspect of character. It consists in just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress through life. Family, political community, the natural wolrd, and God are all said to be sources on which we depend, sources to be acknowledged appropriately. Emersonians and Augustinians agree that piety, in this sense, is a crucial virtue, and they share an interest in clarifying the proper relationship between civic and religious piety. But they disagree over how the sourecs should be conceived and what constitutes appropriate acknowledgment of our dependence on them. ( Democracy and Tradition, p. 20)
Benedict XVI proves my point...
The pope's latest encyclical, whose title is 'In hope we are saved', proves my point about the renewed interest in martyrdom:
Certainly, in our many different sufferings and trials we always need the lesser and greater hopes too—a kind visit, the healing of internal and external wounds, a favourable resolution of a crisis, and so on. In our lesser trials these kinds of hope may even be sufficient. But in truly great trials, where I must make a definitive decision to place the truth before my own welfare, career and possessions, I need the certitude of that true, great hope of which we have spoken here. For this too we need witnesses—martyrs—who have given themselves totally, so as to show us the way—day after day. We need them if we are to prefer goodness to comfort, even in the little choices we face each day—knowing that this is how we live life to the full. Let us say it once again: the capacity to suffer for the sake of the truth is the measure of humanity. Yet this capacity to suffer depends on the type and extent of the hope that we bear within us and build upon. The saints were able to make the great journey of human existence in the way that Christ had done before them, because they were brimming with great hope
Certainly, in our many different sufferings and trials we always need the lesser and greater hopes too—a kind visit, the healing of internal and external wounds, a favourable resolution of a crisis, and so on. In our lesser trials these kinds of hope may even be sufficient. But in truly great trials, where I must make a definitive decision to place the truth before my own welfare, career and possessions, I need the certitude of that true, great hope of which we have spoken here. For this too we need witnesses—martyrs—who have given themselves totally, so as to show us the way—day after day. We need them if we are to prefer goodness to comfort, even in the little choices we face each day—knowing that this is how we live life to the full. Let us say it once again: the capacity to suffer for the sake of the truth is the measure of humanity. Yet this capacity to suffer depends on the type and extent of the hope that we bear within us and build upon. The saints were able to make the great journey of human existence in the way that Christ had done before them, because they were brimming with great hope
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Why the renewed interest in martyrdom?
I think it is quite fair to say that, whereas martyrdom was scarcely mentioned by theologians of a generation ago, today martyrdom is mentioned by almost everybody. Why? What has changed?
Here are my speculations:
Here are my speculations:
- as we have moved into a post-Christendom situation, theologians are more aware of a creeping hostility to their discipline, and to the church in the wider culture. Instead of feeling part of a largely Christianised culture, we now find ourselves seeking an identity in contradistinction to the culture. These are themes in the theologies of Milbank and Hauerwas among others, too.
- a move away from abstraction towards enfleshed particularity; the attraction of the exemplar, in moral terms rather than the theory.
- a growing awareness of the plight of Christians world-wide, and the way in which real martyrs have made a difference in terrible situations in recent times. Luwum and Romero, for example.
- has liberation theology made a difference here?
- the spectacle and fear of religious violence
Hmmm....
Monday, December 03, 2007
Hart on Providence
Does God do micro-management? And more importantly: how do we account for human freedom as a real and not imaginary gift of God if we have a view of God's providence that is too unvariegated? What is more: how can we account for God's providence without accusing him of commiting evil?
Hart says:
Certainly all Christians must affirm God's transcendent governance of everything, even fallen history and fallen nature, and must believe that by that governance he will defeat evil and bring the final good of all things out of the darkness of 'this age'. It makes a considerable difference, however - nothing less than our unerstand of the nature of God is at stake - whether one says that God has eternally willed the history of sin and death, and all that comes to pass therein,as the proper or necessary means of achieving his ends, or whether one says instead that god has willed his good in creatures from eternity and will bring it to pass, despite their rebellion, by so ordering all thigs toward his goodness tha even evil (which he does not cause) becomes an occasion of the operations of grace. And it is only the latter view than can accurately be called a doctrine of 'providence' in the properly theological sense: the former is mere determinism. (p. 82)
This makes a good deal of sense to me: it has to be possible that God does not will the death of a sinner, but that the sinner does indeed die. (2 Peter 3:9). And, if we are not careful in our attribution of all causation to the will of God, God merely becomes the devil in disguise. Aquinas posited a primary level of causation (ie God's) which transcends the secondary causes which are merely finite. So, my decision to get a cup of coffee in the morning is truly mine, though it arises out of appetites and conditions that aren't mine - my body, the world's economy that enables cheapish coffee to be delivered to me, the fashion to drink coffee etc. God does decide for me, at that level: but his providential will surrounds and transcends my will at every side. This means that I don't have to fall for those 'open God' theologies, which are beneath contempt, frankly.
This makes a good deal of sense to me: it has to be possible that God does not will the death of a sinner, but that the sinner does indeed die. (2 Peter 3:9). And, if we are not careful in our attribution of all causation to the will of God, God merely becomes the devil in disguise. Aquinas posited a primary level of causation (ie God's) which transcends the secondary causes which are merely finite. So, my decision to get a cup of coffee in the morning is truly mine, though it arises out of appetites and conditions that aren't mine - my body, the world's economy that enables cheapish coffee to be delivered to me, the fashion to drink coffee etc. God does decide for me, at that level: but his providential will surrounds and transcends my will at every side. This means that I don't have to fall for those 'open God' theologies, which are beneath contempt, frankly.
Hart does not however deal with a couple of passages which seem to indicate a more micro-managing approach: Jesus talking about the sparrows and the lilies, for example....
Sunday, December 02, 2007
A word on scripture in theology
A word as to hermeneutical method deployed is needed at this point [ie in my thesis!]. The early martyr-acts and the patristic discussions of martyrdom are richly drenched in scriptural references and allusions. This was possible and meaningful because (despite the variety of methods of interpretation used) the scriptures were held to be a unity cohering in Christ, the one whose death provided the template for Christian martyrdom. The texts of scripture had particular import for these individuals facing a terrible death, and as it is reported, gave them particular inspiration and solace.[1] Scripture ought to have particular prominence and authority in any theological account of martyrdom, therefore. More than this: a reading of the canonical scriptures which highlights their salvation-historical – and so Christological – shape is the appropriate complement to the subject at hand, because theological reflection on martyrdom has always had this perspective in one way or another. We attempt to read scripture, therefore, with an eye to its unfolding disclosure of a history of redemption as well as to the theological concepts that it generates.[2] The readings of scripture we attempt here are necessarily selective, but in each case the selections of texts are neither arbitrary nor irrelevant. The salvation-historical nature of the material necessarily plunges us into the business of narrative analysis; but it also the case that the scriptures provide the frame, or chart the trajectory for a theological discussion they themselves prompt but do not provide.
[1] Brad S. Gregory says the same about the martyrs of the Reformation era. Gregory, Salvation at Stake : Christian Martyrdom in Early Modern Europe, p. ??
[2] We hope to take heed of Oliver O’Donovan’s stern warning not to ‘dip into Israel’s experience at one point … and to take out a single disconnected image or theme from it’ which would be ‘to treat the history of God’s reign like a commonplace book or a dictionary of quotations.’ Oliver O'Donovan, The Desire of the Nations - Rediscovering the Roots of Political Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 27.
[1] Brad S. Gregory says the same about the martyrs of the Reformation era. Gregory, Salvation at Stake : Christian Martyrdom in Early Modern Europe, p. ??
[2] We hope to take heed of Oliver O’Donovan’s stern warning not to ‘dip into Israel’s experience at one point … and to take out a single disconnected image or theme from it’ which would be ‘to treat the history of God’s reign like a commonplace book or a dictionary of quotations.’ Oliver O'Donovan, The Desire of the Nations - Rediscovering the Roots of Political Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 27.
Post-It label Theology...
In his impressive book Bound to Sin, Alistair McFadyen makes an appeal against ‘Post-It™ label theology’, which, he explains, is when God is ‘stuck on’ to secular analyses and descriptions of the world. For it to carry explanatory force, theology must add something significant to our level of explanation and understanding of the world. As McFadyen puts it with regard to his study of sin:
If God is the most basic reality and explanation of the world, then it must be the case that the world cannot adequately be explained, understood, lived in, without reference to God in our fundamental means both of discernment and action.
Which means that theology ought to be more attentive to its own way speaking and to its own concepts than to concepts drawn from elsewhere.
(Alistair I. McFadyen, Bound to Sin: Abuse, Holocaust, and the Christian Doctrine of Sin, Cambridge Studies in Christian Doctrine; 6 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000) p.12. )
If God is the most basic reality and explanation of the world, then it must be the case that the world cannot adequately be explained, understood, lived in, without reference to God in our fundamental means both of discernment and action.
Which means that theology ought to be more attentive to its own way speaking and to its own concepts than to concepts drawn from elsewhere.
(Alistair I. McFadyen, Bound to Sin: Abuse, Holocaust, and the Christian Doctrine of Sin, Cambridge Studies in Christian Doctrine; 6 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000) p.12. )
The Doors of the Sea - Where was God in the Tsunami?
David Bentley Hart's small book The Doors of the Sea has finally reached me. I am surprised how vehemently it is an attack on certain Reformed understandings of the sovereignty of God - but then again, I do think that there is something weird, even perverse, about the way God is celebrated as a pure absolute will by some Reformed writers (though this is probably caricature, Hart provides some gob-smackingly callous examples of Reformed responses to the tsunami).
I thought this point was well made (among others):
...disturbing as it may be, it is clearly the case that there is a kind of 'provisional' cosmic dualism within the New Testament: not an ultimate dualism of course, between two equal princinples; but certainly a conflict between a sphere of created autonomy that strives against God on the one hand and the saving of God in time on the other...To say that God elects to fashion rational creatures in his image, and so grants them the freedom to bind themselves and the greater physical order to another master - to say that he who sealed up the doors of the sea might permit them to be opened again by another, more reckless hand - is not to say that God's ultimate design for his creatures can be thwarted. It is to acknowledge, however, that his will can be resisted by a real and (by his grace) autonomous force of defiance, or can be hidden from us by the history of cosmic corruption, and that final realization of the good he intends in all things has the form (not simply as a dramatic fiction, for our edification or his glory, nor simplay as a paedagogical device on his part, but in truth) of a divine victory. (p. 61-62)
I think provisional dualism is right: it allows for this 'autonomous' force of defiance, with which we have to deal, and whom we are to take seriously, but also ensures that God isn't somehow threatened ultimately by the struggle.
I thought this point was well made (among others):
...disturbing as it may be, it is clearly the case that there is a kind of 'provisional' cosmic dualism within the New Testament: not an ultimate dualism of course, between two equal princinples; but certainly a conflict between a sphere of created autonomy that strives against God on the one hand and the saving of God in time on the other...To say that God elects to fashion rational creatures in his image, and so grants them the freedom to bind themselves and the greater physical order to another master - to say that he who sealed up the doors of the sea might permit them to be opened again by another, more reckless hand - is not to say that God's ultimate design for his creatures can be thwarted. It is to acknowledge, however, that his will can be resisted by a real and (by his grace) autonomous force of defiance, or can be hidden from us by the history of cosmic corruption, and that final realization of the good he intends in all things has the form (not simply as a dramatic fiction, for our edification or his glory, nor simplay as a paedagogical device on his part, but in truth) of a divine victory. (p. 61-62)
I think provisional dualism is right: it allows for this 'autonomous' force of defiance, with which we have to deal, and whom we are to take seriously, but also ensures that God isn't somehow threatened ultimately by the struggle.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Of the use of literature in theological work
In my doctoral work I have made a use of TS Eliot's play Murder in the Cathedral as a framing device and a stimulus to theological and scriptural reflection.
This strategy could be objected to on the grounds that:
This strategy could be objected to on the grounds that:
- Eliot was at best an amateur theologian (he himself used this term)- and, in fact, had some heterodox tendencies (for example, the influence of Eastern non-Christian mysticism is evident even in his later work).
- His purpose was aesthetic rather than theological - this isn't serious theology
- in fact, there is a long Christian tradition of suspicion of drama
To which I reply:
- the tradition of Christian theological reflection includes quite a number of literary/aesthetic works, and should not exclude them. In fact, exclusion of them would greatly impoverish the tradition of Christian thought.
- a number of significant contemporary philosophers are using literary narratives and plays in their work. Martha Nussbaum and Richard Rorty are but two examples. Narratives necessarily embedd discussion of human life in relationships with others and in time - ie, they enable a complex discussion of the human situation.
- what is more, serious theologians - Hauerwas for example, and Rowan Williams and Paul Fiddes and David Ford - are using literary works in precisely this way. They do so not merely in a 'literature and theology' mode, but to enrich their discussion of theological concepts - ie in 'serious' theology.
- imaginative works have always had an influence on Christian theological thought and it is just a kind of academic snobbery to exclude them, or to question their place in the debate.
- in fact, narratives of imaginative power have a capacity to do what abstract theological work cannot. They are perhaps more suited to the business at hand - because they deal with humans in the midst of life, under the eye of providence etc.
- And, the obvious point: the Bible is more 'literary' than it is 'philosophical'!
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