Finally Human

How I Read Scripture

i.burgess — Mon, 07 May 2012 20:17:36 +0000

A fascinating discussion on how we read Scripture as true and authoritative for the Church today.

I don’t know if I’m totally convinced by everything said, but I think it’s a good start.

Part of the Timeline project made by my college (St John’s College, Nottingham)

Let’s talk about it!

Possibly Related Posts:

Why Theologise

i.burgess — Thu, 03 May 2012 20:01:38 +0000

Fear God and obey his commandments, for this is the whole of human being. – Ecclesiastes

Winter is giving way to spring and the leaves stretching from the brown earth testify to life’s relentless advance. My sleep is disturbed earlier and earlier as the sunshine eagerly warms the cold ground, always excited to meet the waking world each day.

It has been a long winter, but the eagerness of the season’s change catches me unprepared. Surely not yet? Surely a longer sleep? Surely the creeping a scuttling things should hide away in their homes longer still?

My bewildered protests will not halt the march of time.

My degree is coming to an end. It has been nearly four years since I set foot in the grand old house in the hills and all over this country and indeed abroad.

Along the way I have slept and ate and spoken and breathed in the company of so many other people. Every once in a while, I have even been able to call such places ‘home.’ Yet such a feeling is often so fleeting, like a smouldering wick’s smokey trail–Drawn to the heat and light, yet arriving a second after the flame is extinguished.

I have written many words, some I am pleased with and some which bring me great shame. If you’ve spent any length of time here, you’ll have seen both.

Spoken many things too. And if I could take them all back, I would. What a shameful thing my tongue is!

And among all my busy things, every once in a while I have met Jesus.

I am a pharisee, so concerned to do the right thing and speak the things of God that the only time he gets an audience is in the middle of the night. Yet even those brief, fleeting meetings are rarer and rarer.

He is often not the guest you really want. Is he?

Every grand idea or lofty thought, even the clearest vision and pierces insight turns to bile in the throat, when he arrives to be your house-guest.

What do I say to the face of a world’s pain? How can I offer anything to the most beautiful, scarred visage of Divine Light?

I hope the reader will forgive me then, for sitting quietly when he knocks, desperately hoping he doesn’t think I’m in.

After all, there’s an essay to finish.

But it’s sunny out.

Maybe he’s not knocking to come yell at me. What if he just wants to see me?

If that is the truth, I’d rather he demand of me some task or other. Anything but his company. Anything but that fierce love.

No, no please Christ anything but that, such a love you have shown is too hard for me.

Give me another essay, and occupy me with endless study and speaking and busyness. Anything but Christianity.

So little by little it becomes for the individual a serious truth that to live is to be examined, and the highest examination is this: whether one will be in truth a Christian or not. – Kierkegaard

Possibly Related Posts:

Jesus among the Campaigners

i.burgess — Tue, 01 May 2012 18:21:56 +0000

Jesus of Nazareth: Feminist? Social activist? Abortion protester? LGBT rights campaigner?

A stroll through the deep, dark woods of the Internet would have Jesus be all of these things and more, or even the posters and campaigns churches engage in would imply the same.

Questioning a campaign to end abortions/oppose same-sex marriage/advance Fairtrade/march on Downing Street over foreign debt is QUITE the faux pas: Anyone with half a brain cell must be able to see that this publicity stunt/short term project/investment in a development initiative is exactly what Jesus meant for his people to do.

Any opposing voice is simply ignorant. Or worse, bigoted.

A young woman is starving and alone beneath a bridge–who are you to refuse her food? Clothes? Didn’t Jesus say that judgement awaited those who withheld from such? (Matthew 23)

Is there not a greater ill in a group of people who are prevented from living as they would please? Who are we to stand in the way?

But who is to say that investing in this school and clinic project in Rwanda is the best thing? How are we to know if this truly grants the people access to the humanity robbed of them in their long struggle?

And what does it mean for a Christian to interact with these issues, always clambering for a few seconds of air time on the radio and TV, desperate for inches in the daily rag?

How does the Christian listen to the painful voices of neighbours, colleagues, fellow churchgoers?

Pain, whether from hunger pangs; denied opportunity or the neglect of the intrinsic humanity of another person, demands a response.

But must a homeless man must be fed simply on the grounds that he hungers?

The Christian, by their confession of faith, participates in a reality unseen by the world. It smells the sweet fragrance far off, sure but the Christian lives and moves within this world as a true resident of the world to come. That world is the Kingdom of God where Jesus himself is king.

And rightly the Christian ought to fear before this coming King, doing his will though he is far off.

Acting justly because each thought and deed will be brought into judgement.

Living mercifully since this King has shown such mercy.

Praying humbly because all is owed to this great and wise King.

This King is kind. He will comfort the hurt and provide for the desperate, wiping away their tears. He is compassionate, dwelling with the sinner as well as righteous since he is the Beloved of both.

Yet this King is being dethroned:

Many voices clamber for attention, each one speaking out a different heaven, preaching the coming of another kingdom and promising the eternal rest which will come when their kingdom is established. Each fair-garbed prophet comes in peace with a shining light of good intention.

But it’s not Jesus. It’s not Christ the King.

And if anyone knows pain, suffering a rejection it’s him. The voices today, even the most cracked, the most repressed and most pleading cannot compare to Christ’s own cry. So if he is the Lord of the Afflicted, crowned with thorns and honoured with beatings, surely he knows the way to healing?

So what might this Suffer say to the starving man? I suspect the words would be few but maybe he might say one thing. He might say that this man is just as invited to feast as all of Jesus’ other guests. He is invited to sit with all of Jesus’ friends and be fed and satisfied.

Does this change the fact that his hungry stomach demands food? No.

But it does change how he is included.

Jesus of Nazareth is not some right’s campaigner, asking Caesar to be a little bit more fair; husbands to give their wives a bit more freedom; employers to pay their staff a bit more.

No, he is a King marching with all his angels and the whole host of saints through the ages to take up his Eternal Throne in this world.

And in this Kingdom, categories like left and right, conservative and progressive will dissolve along with the great walls of division constructed in sin and made with hate. And only in this Kingdom will true freedom reign.

Let his Church be an outpost of this reconciliation, not just another voice clambering for air time.

Possibly Related Posts:

After Easter, Or, That Was A Big Deal, Right?

i.burgess — Sun, 15 Apr 2012 19:31:51 +0000

The rulers and overlords of all the known world exterminated another criminal. Manyyoung men seem to have thought themselves something special, deluded by the power afforded them by a meagre following, have marched against Rome, or the nearest outpost of the great Empire.

This one was pinned up like the rest.

And the endless rule of the Sons of God seated in the Royal City is blessed by the peaceful setting of the sun.

But this one time, there was this one time the story was rewritten.

After the execution of one young Jewish preacher, his followers began to proclaim that he was not dead. His body was nowhere to be found, and this group of followers even started to live and act as though their Master still lived among them.

This rabble of idealistic youths were not defeated. In fact, they grew from strength to strength.

And the Son of God had a contender to the title.

But a week later, just when the eager eye of the Empire grew irritated by their bold public acts of rebellion, all the excitement ceased.

And there was one Son of God again.

Possibly Related Posts:

God is dead, I killed him.

i.burgess — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 23:46:17 +0000

I thought I saw a tear.

I thought I saw a tear fall to the ground, when they had you on your knees, when they beat you with the lashes. You gritted your teeth but I saw the tears leak from scrunched-shut eyes.

What could be the matter? Are you squeamish? Are you not used to seeing such things? Or are you truly bothered by such things, that you look away. I’d had my suspicions. I’ve seen too many people suffer, even righteous people, grievously afflicted at the hands of men. I believed you had a stronger stomach for these things. But maybe all along you just looked away, disgusted at the violence among the children of man.

Well now we are disgusted at you. And before the whole earth you bear our mockery.

Honestly, I had hoped for a whimper, or a scream. Harder men than you have screamed at the pain. Better men, too. We could not enjoy the sound of your screams, but the snapping sound of blunt objects against skin, the crack of cartilage beneath a boot. These are a chorus of delight.

A song of justice. A tune to accompany retribution.

Fitting, as you never spoke out against the suffering of others, why would you cry out now?

And you stood by as I wept long into colder nights than this.

And I watch you weep and my heart is filled with the satisfaction of justice.

But your strength didn’t keep you going for long. You couldn’t even bear the weight of a cross like a man, and like always another was press ganged into aiding you. A friend, or the closest thing you have to them, forced to share in the disgrace which is rightly yours. You despicable man. Pathetic.

Oh it was a sight! I fear you were blinded by the blood in your eyes, but the rest of us could see clearly: all your grand schemes were nought and all your noblest ideas turn to bile in our throats as we see the wreck of your fragile form. We saw what you were made of. And it all evaporated before our eyes.

What worthy thing had you to say, in this moment of final judgement? Nothing! Before the gaping maw of the harsh reality which everyone else inhabits… Before the dark pit which life under your ever-watchful gaze has opened up within me… Before the grinning mouth of death, you stagger and stumble just like everybody else.

And you prove once and for all that we are alone in the world. And truly, there is none who cares.

So we stood and watched our best and brightest young men stretch out your seizing arms and drive iron spikes through them. And we celebrated those brave souls who would finally put an end to you. And I despise to even look at you, hoisted up.

What grand speeches you had to deliver! And wonderful food! And when I called upon you, when I came to you, I was as dust to you.

But soon you will be dust, and I will be free.

Your stiffening, stinking corpse, another cadaver added to be heap. Did you loose count? The Romans are very efficient. I’m sure they keep a record of each heart they stop. It’s all written in a grand book somewhere.

Did you loose count of us? Are we an enigma in your grand equations? And with the liberty with which you have struck off that enigma, so you were struck off the face of the earth.

Did you see it coming? I don’t mean your death. I mean the rock I threw. Did you see it?

It rolled on the ground smeared with your blood. I have it now, the blood has dried, like the blood in your veins will become a powder. And this rock is mine to tell me that I got a piece of you. I got my revenge.

We beat you, and we killed you. We won and we made you endure our curse. No longer we will endure yours.

And no longer will you throw those proverbial rocks at me.

Because tonight, God is dead. And I killed him.

Possibly Related Posts:

Devil Soul

i.burgess — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 23:26:51 +0000

The in-breaking warmth
Blessed rays of morn’
Which gladden the drowsy heart
After the spirit’s frozen darkness

Skin-on-skin,
Warm beating heart
Rests in matching rhythm
Brief moment scarcely relished

Stretched out hands
Mask shame-eyes
Black pools untouched by
Warm rays and hot rushing blood

Never, never satisfy
Ravenous soul
Ravaging heart
Raging spirit

Never pleased by joyful daybreak
Nor pleased by love’s fond embrace

He will devour each generous grace
And swipe the meek hand of friendship
All the love he is shown

There is a devil in the pew
And his name is Alone

Possibly Related Posts:

The Snowdrops of Eyam

i.burgess — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 23:44:57 +0000

Drooping heads stare at iced ground,
Briefest glimpse of unblemished purity.
Stinking death and rotten earth sodden in freezing rain.

Thin green leaves, a slim chance
Of catching bright sun-rays.
In these brief spans,
These dark days.

A dozen bowed necks solemnly remember:
There were more, once.
Now taken. Snuffed in bitter ground’s cold clasp.

Yet these floundering, shaking stalks
All laden with winter,
Stand sentinel
There was life here, once.
And life will come again still.

As mournful friends at loved one’s bedside:
Snowdrops so soon to appear,
Are quickly overcome by march of spring.
As the cheering warmth once again draws near.

Possibly Related Posts:

The Truth About Theology Students (or, The Truth About Why I Study Theology)

i.burgess — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 19:48:32 +0000

Denial of pain is not uncommon among seminarians and theology students, and it impairs mission, ministry, and relationships among families and friends. Sometimes students begin their studies seeking to heal the world but fail to recognize their own brokenness as the source of that zeal. They discover the needs of street people, the ill, or survivors of global tragedies without asking why they themselves are so drawn to the afflicted, or alternatively, why they want to work only with the healthy and prosperous.

Overlooking the intimate connections between their inner worlds and the plight of others, the students deprive themselves of one of their deepest resources of empathy and compassion. Without their own stories, ministry becomes a projection of their wounds onto the world, or mission becomes a one-way street in which the “whole” condescend to help the “broken.” In these imbalanced relations, the afflicted become objects of instead of subjects; the well-intentioned burn out; and solidarity, mutuality and friendship are thwarted.

Kathleen O’Conner, Lamentations & The Tears of The World, p. 93

I read these words in my research for my dissertation and I was cut to the heart.

Maybe the reason I am doing my dissertation on Lamentations was because I needed to read this book.

It is so much easier to project one’s wounds onto the world and then busy yourself healing them, rather than admit those wounds scar your deepest self and then cry out for help.

Possibly Related Posts:

Crucified Power

i.burgess — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 20:11:11 +0000

For the power of God Himself, reflected in the power which he gives to man, is the power of Jesus Christ, and therefore the power of the Lamb as well as the Lion, of the cross as well as the resurrection, humiliation as well as exaltation, of death as well as life… For some it will almost always be only the one, for others only the other, but usually it will be both for all of us in rapid alternation. In each case however, it will be true capacity, the good gift of God, ascribed as needed in his service. God demands one service to be rendered in the light, another which can only be performed only in shadow. That is why He distributes this varied ability according to His good-pleasure.

Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics iii part 4 §55

Earlier this week I wrote on my experience listening to a conservative Evangelical group discussing their involvement with the legislation of this country, specifically as they outlined how they were planning to change the laws of the land in order to protect what they thought is sacred. I ended the post asking us to imagine a different way of using power.

Today Christina Baxter was lecturing on power and the Church, outlining several ways power has been handled in and by the Church. In summary she directed us to Barth’s words.

I really loved how Barth seated the discussion in God’s ultimate display of power–and indeed his whole being–Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ the Man of Power

Reflecting on Jesus, perhaps we can see clearly the conferred power of God in human being. That is to say, Christ is the demonstration of Godly power, the same power which is given to the Church.

This was the power of Crucifixion and Resurrection, both of which gave glory to God and accomplished his goals. One act was a dark deed, a murder. The other, a triumph of light. In one instance he was the Victim, in the other the Victor. This is the power of God given to the Church.

Power and Glory

This power was exercised by Jesus for the glory of his Father, and the same stipulation applies to us. Power is given in grace for God’s glory.

And that grace is always costly.

If that is the case, how can we imagine a response to the three issues raised by the conservative Evangelicals (Decay of marriage, abortion and sanctity of life, Christians in the public realm)?

Have we been given the right to vote?

Have we the ability to gather support and run campaigns?

Can we convince others of some new idea?

Could we keep silent, and with our passivity, testify to a different reality?

What if we modelled our values before we asked others to join us?

Does all of this glorify God?

Testifying to Crucified Power

I do not think, as perhaps I did in the past, there is one simple answer to how Christians are to exercise power in the world. It is perhaps a sacred trust.

My response, at least for now, is to remember that I have no rights in this land and have a greater inheritance elsewhere. For this reason I can choose patience and remember the cross. That was power just as much as the resurrection. It is the power to endure in tough times, and to press on for the future joy.

Either way, it is grace, being for each of us exactly that which God causes to be allotted to us. Hence the commanded will for power can always be the confident will for the kind of power which is now assigned to us. It will not be a rigid but a fluid or flexible will, not merely in the direction we normally look when we speak of will for power, but also in the other direction in which strength is made perfect in weakness.

Barth.

Possibly Related Posts:

Concern for the nation

i.burgess — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 19:28:04 +0000

For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil.

1 Peter 3:13-17

A slender woman in a bright blue skirt clips her way down the aisle, last note of a praise-chorus still humming from the piano. High cheeks and deep red lipstick as she pushes back her fringe. The soft sound of a clearing throat is amplified to a growl from the speakers.

“And how do you think we got here”, she asks.

We had heard a reading from Paul’s letter to the Church in Rome where he outlines how the world has become disordered due to it’s lostness, and humanity’s insistence upon worshipping themselves or indeed the creation. As far as Paul could tell, this had resulted in a murderous, deceitful and foolish society (Romans 1:18-32) and it is in such a world that the Roman church was called to be a living witness to a different way of life.

Blue Pencil-skirt and high cheek-bones had insisted that the Roman world of the early first century was not far from the situation of Britain in the 21st century. People, she insisted, had within the last century ceased to worship God and consequently begun to reshape the laws of the land around their perverted desires.

Firstly, since women were given more choice over whether they would become pregnant or not, there has been a systematic assault on the worth of a human being. Especially the unborn.

Secondly, the allowance of divorce due to irreparable breakdown has dissolved the notion of family into more or less anything at all. Indeed, anyone who disagrees is ostracised and risks losing their job.

And thirdly, Christians are being marginalised from sharing their faith in the public space. Shocking that anyone should be asked to not wear a cross around their neck!

Now, a disclaimer: I am not going to discuss these three issues in this post. If you ask nicely in the comments, I might tackle them one by one. What I will say is that I agree that these are important issues which demand a response.

But the lady with the pencil skirt stood before the group, indignant. Such a moral decline, she insisted, must be stopped. And as she outlined some of the legal cases her charity got involved with, the group was drawn into her frustration. What must we do in order that this tide of death be stopped? What response to the destruction of interpersonal relationships is warranted? And how can Christians once again tell others about their hope, as so many other people are permitted to share theirs?

A pregnant pause settled over the room.

And like a still pool, the conscience of the room is unsettled by a dropping penny.

If the laws of this nation have been surreptitiously altered by a creeping tide of secular idealists, then what would be the appropriate response?

Lady in blue pencil skirt encouraged us to sign up to a series of petitions, to march on Westminster and to support the lobbying efforts of the organisation as they campaigned on behalf of Christians who wanted to be the exception to the rules.

It was here that I began to feel most uncomfortable.

Perhaps the reader would beg to differ.

But I want to imagine a different response. One which does not presume upon a moral right Christians might assume themselves to hold, nor believe that merely undoing a selection of the legislative changes of the last 60 years will bring salvation, nor even believe that Christians are obliged to be treated the same as any other religious or cultural group in this country.

Let us instead remember the great cost of Christ’s cross and hear perhaps afresh that we his followers are called to shoulder it in this day and in this place.

But what does that mean? How then do we respond? Let’s talk about it.

Possibly Related Posts: