If a student had a year to read just theological works, what would you tell them to read?
Criteria (necessarily artificial of course!):
Genre: “the treatise”, rather than imaginative or mystical or devotional works or commentary.
Orthodoxy: broadly defined by creeds
Perspective: 21st Century Protestant (evangelical) - so a Western bias probably...
‘Classic’ Author: some authors demand inclusion (a la epistles of Paul in the NT)
‘Classic’ Work: some works demand inclusion (a la Hebrews!).
'Classic-to-be': the books of the last 20-30 years that are must-reads in the sense that they will be read in years to come!
ERAS:
PATRISTIC
MEDIEVAL
REFORMATION (16th-17th C.)
18th - 19th C.
20th C.
CONTEMPORARY
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Is the church a family?
Frequently we say that the best metaphor to describe the church is 'family'. That is, I think, we are saying that the private/public distinction which we observe in the rest of the world doesn't hold here. When I go to church I am still at home, if you like. Israel is kinda the model for this because they were a nation but all related genetically- ie they could say (really) that they were a giant household.
Anyhow, the question is: how do you apply this family idea? I think there is obviously good warrant in the Bible for it: calling each other "brethren", the adoption of sons etc. In which case, what of my biological family? What place do they have in the scheme of things then?
This matters especially when it comes to ministry. Are ministers mothers and fathers of their congregation? And if so, what is the scriptural/theological backing for this?
The analogy has been especially used when it comes to gender difference to explain why it is that we can vote for a female prime minister or work for a female boss and yet not have a female chief minister or preacher: that is, the church is a family, and so husband is to wife so male minister is to female (is that the logic?)...
Anyhow come on you who read and never comment: what do you think?
Anyhow, the question is: how do you apply this family idea? I think there is obviously good warrant in the Bible for it: calling each other "brethren", the adoption of sons etc. In which case, what of my biological family? What place do they have in the scheme of things then?
This matters especially when it comes to ministry. Are ministers mothers and fathers of their congregation? And if so, what is the scriptural/theological backing for this?
The analogy has been especially used when it comes to gender difference to explain why it is that we can vote for a female prime minister or work for a female boss and yet not have a female chief minister or preacher: that is, the church is a family, and so husband is to wife so male minister is to female (is that the logic?)...
Anyhow come on you who read and never comment: what do you think?
Thursday, February 16, 2006
1 Peter 1:13
The NRSV’s translation of 1 Peter 1:13 as ‘[T]herefore prepare your minds for action’ in my view strikes entirely the wrong exegetical and theological note with its emphasis on action. Literally, the verse reads ‘Therefore gird up the loins of your mind’. The girding of the loins signifies preparedness; but the reference to the mind suggests that something other than action is what the person is to be prepared for. What the rest of the verse (and indeed the rest of the epistle) commands is rather a posture of patient and hopeful waiting for the final revelation of their salvation. Whatever actions are commanded in the letter as such, they are ordered to this more passive stance. They are invited to a "passive action": submitting, accepting, enduring, waiting, answering. The particular theme of holiness in the letter points towards a disciplined, purificatory activity in the same preparatory key (see 1:13-21)...
"Passive action": is that enough to characterise the Christian life? (Reinhard Hutter calls it pathos...)
"Passive action": is that enough to characterise the Christian life? (Reinhard Hutter calls it pathos...)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Responsibility!
I have been reading in Bonhoeffer's Ethics. What we have is really a series of unpublished papers written under the pressure of the years just before his arrest when he was involved in the plot against Hitler.
Bonhoeffer argues that responsible action is that which is most in accordance with reality. That reality is ‘the reality of the God who became human’. This action, however, is neither an endorsement of the status quo nor a blessing of revolution. It begins with the action of God in Christ ‘reconciling the world to himself’ (2 Cor 5:18).
Responsible action is grounded and circumscribed in Jesus Christ. Bonhoeffer is clear that this is not merely an ideology which carries all before it. ‘The task is not to turn the world upside down but in a given place to do what, from the perspective of reality, is necessary objectively and to really carry it out’ – that is, to do what is possible within the human domain. God becoming human means that responsible actions likewise have to occur within that domain. The ultimate evaluation of these actions is only for God. Responsible action ‘must completely surrender to God both the judgment on this action and its consequences’.
Bonhoeffer turns to the Sermon on the Mount, where he finds a powerful picture of suffering action:
"The Sermon on the Mount confronts those who are compelled to act within history with the event of the reconciliation of the world with God in Jesus Christ, thus placing them into genuine Christian responsibility."
The Sermon on the Mount is not a manifesto of withdrawal from the historical-political sphere, contrary to the way in which it has been read for much of Christian history. Historical-political action and Christian action have been seen as opposites – statehood without self-assertion or force is thought impossible. ‘Turning the other cheek’ or ‘love your enemies’ are not plans for kings to rule by, as ordinarily conceived. Bonhoeffer also points out that even the most cynical uses of power in the west ‘always need a mask of Christian concepts in order to succeed’.
Again the response is christologically framed: the action of God in taking human flesh and inserting himself into the world of real human beings, in its very particularity shows that he is concerned for real human beings in the concreteness of their existence and not merely for the idea of them. The Sermon on the Mount is the voice of the incarnate love of God calling people to love one another and to a renunciation of everything that gets in the way of that possibility. This must include action in the sphere of the political, because God’s love for the world is not partitioned. To act in accordance with Christ is to recognize that ‘the world is loved, judged and reconciled in Jesus Christ by God’, which is the true reality of things.
Responsibility’ (Verantwornung) is a key notion for Bonhoeffer, and includes the sense of ‘answering’ not perhaps captured in the English word. Bonhoeffer expounds responsibility in terms of Stellevertretung, or ‘vicarious representative action’. Jesus was the model of this type of action in becoming human, in dying as crucified and in the resurrection; and ‘all of life through him is destined to be vicarious representative action’ - to act as a representative of his people, in their stead and for their good. However, Bonhoeffer differentiates Stellevertretung from a self-appointed representation by claiming that only the selfless person is able to act responsibly – as parent, as pastor, as citizen.
Bonhoeffer argues that responsible action is that which is most in accordance with reality. That reality is ‘the reality of the God who became human’. This action, however, is neither an endorsement of the status quo nor a blessing of revolution. It begins with the action of God in Christ ‘reconciling the world to himself’ (2 Cor 5:18).
Responsible action is grounded and circumscribed in Jesus Christ. Bonhoeffer is clear that this is not merely an ideology which carries all before it. ‘The task is not to turn the world upside down but in a given place to do what, from the perspective of reality, is necessary objectively and to really carry it out’ – that is, to do what is possible within the human domain. God becoming human means that responsible actions likewise have to occur within that domain. The ultimate evaluation of these actions is only for God. Responsible action ‘must completely surrender to God both the judgment on this action and its consequences’.
Bonhoeffer turns to the Sermon on the Mount, where he finds a powerful picture of suffering action:
"The Sermon on the Mount confronts those who are compelled to act within history with the event of the reconciliation of the world with God in Jesus Christ, thus placing them into genuine Christian responsibility."
The Sermon on the Mount is not a manifesto of withdrawal from the historical-political sphere, contrary to the way in which it has been read for much of Christian history. Historical-political action and Christian action have been seen as opposites – statehood without self-assertion or force is thought impossible. ‘Turning the other cheek’ or ‘love your enemies’ are not plans for kings to rule by, as ordinarily conceived. Bonhoeffer also points out that even the most cynical uses of power in the west ‘always need a mask of Christian concepts in order to succeed’.
Again the response is christologically framed: the action of God in taking human flesh and inserting himself into the world of real human beings, in its very particularity shows that he is concerned for real human beings in the concreteness of their existence and not merely for the idea of them. The Sermon on the Mount is the voice of the incarnate love of God calling people to love one another and to a renunciation of everything that gets in the way of that possibility. This must include action in the sphere of the political, because God’s love for the world is not partitioned. To act in accordance with Christ is to recognize that ‘the world is loved, judged and reconciled in Jesus Christ by God’, which is the true reality of things.
Responsibility’ (Verantwornung) is a key notion for Bonhoeffer, and includes the sense of ‘answering’ not perhaps captured in the English word. Bonhoeffer expounds responsibility in terms of Stellevertretung, or ‘vicarious representative action’. Jesus was the model of this type of action in becoming human, in dying as crucified and in the resurrection; and ‘all of life through him is destined to be vicarious representative action’ - to act as a representative of his people, in their stead and for their good. However, Bonhoeffer differentiates Stellevertretung from a self-appointed representation by claiming that only the selfless person is able to act responsibly – as parent, as pastor, as citizen.
Friday, February 10, 2006
more on friends and ... others...
It might be protested that the references to friendship as such in the scriptures are few, especially in the NT. The ecclesio-relational metaphors that are most prominent are organic or filial ones – the Vine, the Body, the Brotherhood. This certainly helps protect the church from becoming a community of people I like, or of people like me: in that friends are typically freely chosen for friendship, whereas ecclesial relationships are established on an entirely different basis – namely by the choice of God.
On the other hand, the church is not a biological entity either, in the sense that it is not composed only of people who have a particular genetic or racial identity in common. The NRSV’s decision to render the Greek 'adelfoi' as ‘friends’ rather than ‘brethren’ would completely change the grammar of ecclesial relationships (if accepted). What is perhaps most overlooked in this discussion is that material in the NT which is actually most relevant – the actual ecclesial experience of Paul and the others that we glimpse in the greetings and farewells of the epistles (e.g. Phil 4:1; Romans 16). Here we see that there is apparently a genuine and heartfelt experience of ‘friendship’, touchingly and lovingly recorded in these incidentals. These are those who Paul addresses 'agapetai', 'dearly loved ones' (2 Cor 12:19). But this of course is given to us alongside the experience of a painful enmity, too, from within the ecclesial sphere. The apostle does not always count his enmity as outside the church and his experience of friendship as inside. Rather, he actually encounters both in the present reality of church. There is a reminder in this that Judas was one of the Twelve; and that opposition to and treachery against Jesus came from within the small band of apostles who were with him from the very start.
On the other hand, the church is not a biological entity either, in the sense that it is not composed only of people who have a particular genetic or racial identity in common. The NRSV’s decision to render the Greek 'adelfoi' as ‘friends’ rather than ‘brethren’ would completely change the grammar of ecclesial relationships (if accepted). What is perhaps most overlooked in this discussion is that material in the NT which is actually most relevant – the actual ecclesial experience of Paul and the others that we glimpse in the greetings and farewells of the epistles (e.g. Phil 4:1; Romans 16). Here we see that there is apparently a genuine and heartfelt experience of ‘friendship’, touchingly and lovingly recorded in these incidentals. These are those who Paul addresses 'agapetai', 'dearly loved ones' (2 Cor 12:19). But this of course is given to us alongside the experience of a painful enmity, too, from within the ecclesial sphere. The apostle does not always count his enmity as outside the church and his experience of friendship as inside. Rather, he actually encounters both in the present reality of church. There is a reminder in this that Judas was one of the Twelve; and that opposition to and treachery against Jesus came from within the small band of apostles who were with him from the very start.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Friendship - how to conceive of it Christianly?
Related to a previous post: something i wrote on friendship.
Jesus speaks of the love of one ‘laying down his life for his friends’ (Jn 15:13): that is the greatest love. It is love that he exemplifies; but it is the kind of love that will also be at the heart of discipleship. His public life was a life lived amongst his friends over and against even his own family (Luke 8:17-19). Friendship with him was a matter of performing his words (Jn 15:14); which elevates the status of disciple from servant to friend. However, the fickleness of human friendship was of course something Jesus himself experienced. Not only did he count among his friends Judas, who betrayed him; but at the crucial moment of testing, his disciples fled and left him alone. He went to cross solo; watched only from distance. Unsurprisingly, then, part of his teaching to his friends was that they were risking the possibility of this affliction themselves. In Luke 21, he prophesies their betrayal by family and friends (21:16-17). ‘You will be hated by all because of my name.’ The experience of martyrdom is clearly on view here. Archbishop Thomas the disciple does not count the experience of friendship with the King as a matter of expedience – even though it is now over. However, Christian discipleship is promised by Jesus to have a destabilizing effect on these earthly relationships, which may even result in violent rejection. Perhaps laying down one’s life for one’s friend may mean dying at his hand.
But the connection of love with friendship by Jesus is the key here. The divine love of Jesus for real human beings represents a turning toward human beings in friendship despite and even through their violent enmity towards him. In death, Jesus alone stands in the place of his fellow human beings, bearing their implacable hatred towards God on his shoulders. And yet, the point at which he suffers betrayal, rejection, torture and death becomes the point of greatest divine love for human beings and human love for God. (See Romans 5:1-11). In turn, this great realized and actual love of God for human beings and of one human being for God becomes the great example of love for the disciples of Christ (John 15:13-15; 1 John 4:1ff; see also the language of sacrifice in Rom 12:1-2). That such a love will involve concrete, actual bodily sacrifice is unmistakable in the language of the NT. This love is shot through with pain – possibly the pain of unreciprococity. This means for the Archbishop that he cannot abandon the King altogether, though there may be violent consequences. Though Thomas has been offered the chance to shut the door on Henry by the Third Tempter, this is not ultimately for him a Christian possibility. Rather, he calls out ‘Open the door!’ (II.??); and, with this, calls down on himself his own murder.
Jesus speaks of the love of one ‘laying down his life for his friends’ (Jn 15:13): that is the greatest love. It is love that he exemplifies; but it is the kind of love that will also be at the heart of discipleship. His public life was a life lived amongst his friends over and against even his own family (Luke 8:17-19). Friendship with him was a matter of performing his words (Jn 15:14); which elevates the status of disciple from servant to friend. However, the fickleness of human friendship was of course something Jesus himself experienced. Not only did he count among his friends Judas, who betrayed him; but at the crucial moment of testing, his disciples fled and left him alone. He went to cross solo; watched only from distance. Unsurprisingly, then, part of his teaching to his friends was that they were risking the possibility of this affliction themselves. In Luke 21, he prophesies their betrayal by family and friends (21:16-17). ‘You will be hated by all because of my name.’ The experience of martyrdom is clearly on view here. Archbishop Thomas the disciple does not count the experience of friendship with the King as a matter of expedience – even though it is now over. However, Christian discipleship is promised by Jesus to have a destabilizing effect on these earthly relationships, which may even result in violent rejection. Perhaps laying down one’s life for one’s friend may mean dying at his hand.
But the connection of love with friendship by Jesus is the key here. The divine love of Jesus for real human beings represents a turning toward human beings in friendship despite and even through their violent enmity towards him. In death, Jesus alone stands in the place of his fellow human beings, bearing their implacable hatred towards God on his shoulders. And yet, the point at which he suffers betrayal, rejection, torture and death becomes the point of greatest divine love for human beings and human love for God. (See Romans 5:1-11). In turn, this great realized and actual love of God for human beings and of one human being for God becomes the great example of love for the disciples of Christ (John 15:13-15; 1 John 4:1ff; see also the language of sacrifice in Rom 12:1-2). That such a love will involve concrete, actual bodily sacrifice is unmistakable in the language of the NT. This love is shot through with pain – possibly the pain of unreciprococity. This means for the Archbishop that he cannot abandon the King altogether, though there may be violent consequences. Though Thomas has been offered the chance to shut the door on Henry by the Third Tempter, this is not ultimately for him a Christian possibility. Rather, he calls out ‘Open the door!’ (II.??); and, with this, calls down on himself his own murder.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Mission and theology
“What would happen if theology took the mission of the church seriously?
In his (in my opinion very poor) book Recovering the Scandal of the Cross Joel Green asks what I think is very good question: what would happen if theology took the mission of the church seriously?
It’s a good question because it inverts our expectations. We ordinarily imagine that mission ought to take theology seriously: if only we get our thinking about mission right, we say, then we will mission more effectively. We believe I guess in a priority of theory over praxis. The problem with this view is ineffectiveness: revivals are not usually begun in the academy, you may have noticed. There is a tendency for theory to be closed to the questions people are actually asking.
On the other hand, I guess there are some of you who can already sense the artificiality of this: you have already been out there presenting the gospel and living it, and seeing lives changed and people won for Christ. Having to come and sit and think about it seems quite futile: it’s already going on! The problem with this view, I suggest respectfully, is pragmatism. Pragmatism means that we become like advertisers hawking products: we will do anything for a sale, including distort the message out of shape, perhaps casting aside or hiding uncomfortable parts of the scriptural teaching in order to fit in with the culture of context.
This is why Green’s question is a good one: because theology needs to realize the urgency of mission! Theology must not be indulgent or merely speculative. And on the hand, those engaged in mission have the weighty responsibility of speaking and acting in and with truth. Mission must remain faithful to its source in scripture or it will be unable to address cultures - it will only reflect them. If theology took the mission seriously, not only could theology be forced to rediscover its own deep scriptural resources, but also mission could be reinvigorated by the work done in the thinking about it.
In his (in my opinion very poor) book Recovering the Scandal of the Cross Joel Green asks what I think is very good question: what would happen if theology took the mission of the church seriously?
It’s a good question because it inverts our expectations. We ordinarily imagine that mission ought to take theology seriously: if only we get our thinking about mission right, we say, then we will mission more effectively. We believe I guess in a priority of theory over praxis. The problem with this view is ineffectiveness: revivals are not usually begun in the academy, you may have noticed. There is a tendency for theory to be closed to the questions people are actually asking.
On the other hand, I guess there are some of you who can already sense the artificiality of this: you have already been out there presenting the gospel and living it, and seeing lives changed and people won for Christ. Having to come and sit and think about it seems quite futile: it’s already going on! The problem with this view, I suggest respectfully, is pragmatism. Pragmatism means that we become like advertisers hawking products: we will do anything for a sale, including distort the message out of shape, perhaps casting aside or hiding uncomfortable parts of the scriptural teaching in order to fit in with the culture of context.
This is why Green’s question is a good one: because theology needs to realize the urgency of mission! Theology must not be indulgent or merely speculative. And on the hand, those engaged in mission have the weighty responsibility of speaking and acting in and with truth. Mission must remain faithful to its source in scripture or it will be unable to address cultures - it will only reflect them. If theology took the mission seriously, not only could theology be forced to rediscover its own deep scriptural resources, but also mission could be reinvigorated by the work done in the thinking about it.
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