Hieropraxis

Anglicanism and Mere Christianity: An Overview and Reflection on the History of the Anglican Church

2012-05-25T16:42:46Z

This talk was originally intended to be simply about the history of the Anglican Church (a very interesting topic in its own right) but as I worked on it, I realized that I was also answering another question:

How is it that as an Anglican, I am joyfully heading off to Texas to work for Houston Baptist University? The answer is that HBU, under the leadership of President Robert Sloan, is committed to Mere Christianity (read the Mission & Values statement here). When we agree on the essentials (as expressed in the great creeds of the Church, most notably the Nicene Creed and the Apostles Creed), we can disagree on other issues and yet do good work together. Furthermore, the different traditions bring different things of great value to the world, as John Mark Reynolds points out in this excellent piece.

In this talk, I discuss the question of denominations and ecumenism, and then give a broad overview of the history of the Anglican Church, with particular emphasis on the medieval church in England (63 AD – 663 AD) before its affiliation with the Roman church; the creation of the Book of Common Prayer amidst the tumult of the Tudor and Elizabethan era; and the Oxford Movement in the 19th century.

I close with an assessment of what Anglicans can learn from each of these periods as we move forward, in the company of our brothers and sisters in Christ of other orthodox traditions, to fulfill the Great Commission.

Click here to listen to the talk if the player does not appear.

Going Forward: A Poem

2012-05-23T04:52:14Z

Over this past year I have been deeply influenced by Charles Williams’ thought, particularly his insights on prayer. I have never felt that the idea of prayer-as-request was exactly satisfactory as a way to understand human interaction with the living God. Both my own experience, and wider reading in the classics of spiritual formation, indicated that indeed what we call ‘prayer’ is richer, deeper, and more relational than I ever imagined at first. Williams’ articulation of the idea of ‘coinherence’ in both fiction (Descent into Hell) and theology (He Came Down From Heaven and The Descent of the Dove) helped me understand more fully what it means to be part of the Body of Christ, an understanding that in turn has helped me pray more deeply.

This little poem came about after meditating for some days on the idea, and image, of refracted light, and is grounded in my own recent experience of prayer. Usually my poems take a lot of time and intense focus to write; this one came easily and quickly, and was written almost exactly as it stands in about fifteen minutes one morning before I went to church. It felt like a gift, and indeed I think it was.

The image above is a photograph that I took at St Michael’s by-the-Sea in Carlsbad, CA, during Easter season.

As usual you can click on the title to hear my reading of the poem, if you can’t see the player here.

Going Forward

You call us into darkness, Lord,

The dark that isn’t dark to you.

Your white-light glory holds our joy

As yet unprismed into time

For us to see.

Yet here it is;

The living web of co-inherence

Binds us with and in that light;

Where leaning on another’s strength

Is prayer, and giving we receive.

Can Christian Scholarship Make a Difference?

2012-05-22T01:07:40Z

I have a new piece up at Civitate: The City Online, a publication of Houston Baptist University. Read the whole piece at Civitate; here is a teaser:

Academic work is a lot like discipleship. You do the day to day work of writing (or pastoring) and publishing (or praying) and teaching (or preaching), and you may or may not ever see the way that your work makes a difference. But the leverage involved is enormous. Ideas can change the world. Good, true ideas, expressed well, can make a powerful difference for the Kingdom of God. And if those good, true, well-written words also open the door for others to do good work — and if the scholar is the kind of Christian who uses his own tremendous gifts to inspire others to serve Christ – and who encourages and teaches in word and example – then the effects are incalculable.

I can’t calculate the incalculable (I’m an English professor; I don’t even balance my checkbook) but I can say a little bit about why I believe Christian scholarship is vitally important — not in abstract language, not this time, but with one stellar example: Malcolm Guite.

Read the whole piece over at Civitate!

God in the Details: Zacchaeus

2012-05-16T16:35:18Z

Have you ever heard the story behind a song, story, poem or work of art and found yourself surprised at the author’s inspiration? Understanding the author’s context can often provide a window for deeper understanding. At times, we might be surprised when the author had something different in mind than we originally thought. That we are able to draw out meanings that may not have been on the author’s mind when they created their work doesn’t necessarily make our own analysis untrue. We may be able to make better sense of the story being told when we can connect the dots that otherwise would have been left untouched, even by the authors themselves. Illuminating undiscovered meaning is very different than making a story, song, poem, or a sacred text say something it doesn’t say.

How should we respond when the author’s work and our own interpretive grids are in conflict? With any compelling story, we often find our own expectations and assumptions being challenged. Being confronted with new ways to think about something rarely leaves us neutral. The biographies of Jesus are no different in this regard. Each author was addressing a particular audience. They each developed their own voice and drew on different themes in developing their gospel narratives. Much of this can get lost in our own evangelical cultural milieu. Like the person who reads the end of the book first to know the ending, we can allow our own familiarity with scripture to distance ourselves from the scandal that the early audience would have readily picked up on. Learning to have a more nuanced appreciation of all that comprises the text, (the song or the piece of art hanging on the wall) makes for a richer experience that moves us away from being consumers to becoming participants.

Luke’s gospel provides an example of what I’m suggesting. David Gooding remarks in his book According to Luke that the author’s use of speeches was a form of recording history that the early audience would have easily recognized. Luke’s creativity in highlighting Jesus’ teaching on the Kingdom comes into full view by the way Luke juxtaposes particular speeches, parables and stories to convey the depth of God’s Kingdom. Our proximity to the text can often become a barrier to the many dimensions of a particular passage because our respective traditions have reinforced the roles each individual plays. We know who the “good guys” and “bad guys” are before the story is even finished, which can give scripture more of a vaudevillian feel than a King’s teaching on the Kingdom of Heaven in first century Palestine. The story of Zacchaeus is one such example.

This famous passage is found in Luke’s gospel, in the 19^th chapter. We are told that as Jesus is entering Jericho passing through on his way to Jerusalem, there was a rich chief tax collector seeking to see Jesus. However, because of his small physical stature, and the large crowds pressing in on the famed teacher and miracle-worker, Zacchaeus is forced to get ahead of the crowd to climb a sycamore tree to get a glimpse of Jesus as he walked by. Imagine Zacchaeus’ surprise, when Jesus, coming to the place where Zacchaeus was positioned in the tree, says, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” This experience is nothing short of life-changing for Zacchaeus. Luke tells us that he rushes down the tree and receives Jesus into his home with gladness. Transformed by his encounter with Israel’s Messiah, Zacchaeus gives half of his riches to the poor and makes a commitment to repay anyone he has defrauded fourfold. Jesus’ proclamation, no doubt, reverberated throughout the crowd: “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost.”

Zacchaeus is often rightfully applauded in our retelling of this story. However, what can get lost in the underbrush are a few contextual realities that make this episode even more scandalous than we may realize at first glance.

First, a chief tax collector would have not been seen favorably within the Jewish community. To be seen as a part of or cooperating with the Roman establishment was viewed negatively by many of the social groups at the time (Pharisees, Zealots and the Essene community, for example). Zacchaeus was on the margins of the religious and social life in his own community. This is why, in Luke’s retelling of this story, it is important not to overlook that those who witnessed the exchange between Jesus and Zacchaeus were indignant. That Jesus would go into the house of a “sinner” was unthinkable. How much more the offense it caused when Jesus now proclaims Zacchaeus a child of Abraham. Had Jesus gotten this all-wrong? Isn’t being a child of Abraham a matter of right political and religious views? So it seemed to the religious leaders of the day.

Let’s go back a chapter, when Luke tells of Jesus giving the following parable to those who trusted their own righteousness and in doing so, felt it appropriate to treat others with contempt:

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

In Preaching the Parables, Dr. Craig Blomberg remarks that Jesus is teaching that the one in this story who is “saved” is the tax collector, not the Pharisee. This turn of events would have not sat well with the audience, as they would have most likely identified with the self-congratulatory prayer given by the Pharisee. It is no coincidence that Luke situates this parable up against the story of Zacchaeus. We are confronted with the reality that our own religious ideas can often become a hindrance to anyone who may otherwise respond to God’s glad invitation.

It is humbling to realize that I often find myself identifying with the villains rather than the recipients of God’s grace found within the biblical narrative. My own assumptions have often informed how I’ve made sense of a particular passage. I realize that when I’ve gotten it wrong, or feel that my own self-righteousness gives me freedom to speak of others with contempt, I am on the wrong side of God-centered living. Why do I balk when salvation comes to those whom I think do not merit it, allowing competing social and political views to inform my own expectations? It can become easy to think that certain political, economic or social views can automatically disqualify one from membership in God’s Kingdom. This seems to be a point of contention at least every four years in the U.S. Placing Jesus within his cultural, political and religious climate helps me overcome the limits I can place on who I think should be reached.

I, like Zacchaeus, was once at a distance from the world’s rightful king. In my own way, I too, climbed a sycamore tree to get a glimpse of this man who captured my imagination and touched my deepest longings. Like Zacchaeus, it was with joy that my own interpretive grid was radically turned upside down when I realized that I too could be called a “child of Abraham.”

The plot line within the salvation narrative hasn’t changed much in 2,000 years of church history. When we situate Jesus in his context, the transcendent reality of who he is still speaks to us today. Wrestling with our own commitments anew can enable us to see things from a “God’s-eye” point-of-view. God grant us the courage to be willing to humble ourselves in order that we can come to see the world as Jesus did.

By reorienting ourselves to the cultural and historical details found within the narrative of the Gospels, we can become more devoted disciples and better storytellers. We will still find ourselves surprised from time to time. Sometimes we will respond with joy, other times in anger, but rarely will we find ourselves neutral, which means that the words are alive, inviting us to dig deeper, just as it should be. Dr. John Lennox once suggested that contrary to popular belief, it’s not the devil we find in the details, but rather, it’s a clearer picture of God that we discover. This seems to be the case when we understand the details surrounding Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus.

What Does Jesus’ Cleansing of the Temple Mean to Us?

2012-04-04T05:05:21Z

In John chapter 2 we have a very unusual, unique story in the life of Our Lord: his cleansing of the Temple in Jerusalem.

It is by far the most physical and animated description of Our Lord in the gospels. And what makes this story so challenging is that in it, we are confronted with a very angry Jesus. He is white-hot mad. His anger represents what we might call “the elephant in the room” of this event.

We are told that anger is a sin. Our Lord himself says in his sermon on the mount, “You have heard that it was said to the men of old, ‘You shall not kill; and whoever kills shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that every one who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother shall be liable to the council, and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ shall be liable to the hell of fire.”

(Interestingly, in the King James Version the verse reads, “Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.”)

We’re commanded to love our neighbors; to turn the other cheek. The picture of the dutiful Christian is generally one of the mellow peace-loving pacifist, not someone on a table-slinging scene-causing tirade. Jesus’ cleansing of the temple challenges us to consider that the picture of a dutiful Christ-follower evidently includes both.

We believe Our Lord is without sin. His anger must then have had a cause, and not only a cause, but a justified and righteous cause.

And in truth, his anger was justified, and it was righteous.

It was the time of the Passover. Many faithful Jews were traveling from near and far to Jerusalem for this great feast. There was a Temple tax, which was fine and good. If people traveled from different regions with different currency, they needed to make change to pay the Temple Tax. That was also fine and good. But what was not fine and good were the money-changers gouging these faithful pilgrims with outrageous exchange fees.

The faithful also made sacrifices, and again, many who traveled a great distance would need to purchase animals for this purpose. Also fine and good. But what was not fine and good was gouging the faithful pilgrims for the cost of the animal sacrifices.

There was lots of unholy behavior happening in a holy place: selfishness and sin in the name and presence of God, and of the worshipping faithful.

And it made Jesus super mad. And not only does he call out these unholy behaviors, but in-so-doing he also reveals a bit more of himself, and the work he was sent to do.

Calling the Temple his “Father’s House,” was a not-so-subtle way of identifying himself as the Son of God.

The Temple leaders recognize that Jesus actions, and his language, are potentially those of a prophet, so they put the question to him, “Ok, mad guy, you’re acting like a prophet, show us a sign then that you are one; that you are actually sent from God to act and speak the way that you do.”

(We must bear in mind the fact that the Temple leaders knew darn well about the unjust and unholy business being conducted in this holy place. I have to wonder if some of them weren’t shaking in their sandals knowing that Jesus was on to them.)

Jesus response to them is the prophetic climax of the event. He gives them the cryptic answer, “Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

Nobody understands that he is speaking of his own body, not even his disciples, who, St. John tells us only remembered this saying after he was raised from the dead.

We, of course, have the luxury of hearing Jesus words through the lenses of history. In this prophetic action, and in his prophetic words, we see that he was showing his friends and foes alike, just one more glimpse of the New Covenant that he had come to fulfill; and the once-for-all sacrifice that would initiate that New Covenant.

Jesus sacrifice was the fulfillment, and the end of all other sacrifices. It would end the need for repeated sacrifice in the Temple. Jesus is the Sacrifice. And Jesus is the Temple. He is both the victim and priest; the Son of God, the Word of God, and the Lamb of God who came to take away the sin of the world. This momentous transition in God’s Salvation History is all brought to bear in Jesus cleansing of the Temple.

It’s a very important part of the story of Jesus, but what significance does it have for us today?

For starters, in this story we see that there is such a thing as righteous anger – that not all anger is sinful. It’s important for us to know and understand this. In fact, we ought to find ourselves angry with the devil: with Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God – with the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God – and with all sinful desires that draw us from the love of God.

(If you recognize those phrases, that’s good, because they’re from our baptismal covenant – where we vow to renounce all of them.)

The Devil is like a bully on the playground of life who is merciless in pushing us around. But we don’t have to just sit there and take it. We should denounce him like Our Lord did, “Get behind me Satan!” We should defend his attacks with Holy Scripture, as Our Lord did in the wilderness. When Jesus tells Peter that the gates of hell will not prevail against his church, we often forget that gates don’t attack – we are the ones that attack the gates of hell and the powers of death with the perfect and unfailing love of God in Christ.

It’s not ok to be hateful – but it’s ok to be angry with evil. We do so in the name of Christ and in defense of his Kingdom.

But there is still more for us to learn from this event.

We see in it that the very nature of the Temple of God is changing. Jesus points away from the building, and towards himself. He refers to his own body as the Temple of God. And the truth is that every Christian – by virtue of our baptism – is also a Temple of the Holy Spirit.

In baptism we are united with Christ and filled with the Holy and unifying Spirit of God. Through Christ, God’s Spirit dwells in us. St. Paul writing to the Corinthians says, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God? You are not your own.” As St. Peter writes, we are, each one of us, like living stones, built into a spiritual house. Through Christ, we are Temples, tabernacles of the living God.

In Christ, the nature of the Temple of God may have changed, but God’s desire to keep His Temple pure and Holy has not changed – and will never change.

I used to read this passage and think, “Boy, I’m sure glad I wasn’t one of those money changers, or pigeon sellers, or Temple leaders.

But the reality is that those unholy and sinful acts in the Temple that day, are no different than the unholy and sinful acts in us – who are now Temples of God in Christ.

And so we ask, “What would Our Lord see – and what would he do if he entered into our Temples – our souls and bodies this day? Would he be filled with righteous anger? Would there be anything to cleanse, or purge, or purify?”

St. Paul, writing to the Corinthians says, “For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”

… to us who are being saved, the cross is the power of God.

Notice that the phrase “being saved” is a present tense one: it indicates the process of salvation – the process of sanctification Our Lord is working in us through His Holy Spirit.

Our role in this process is to continually choose the cross, to choose God’s will, to choose holiness, and righteousness and truth, to choose to die to ourselves, and be cleansed by the power of God.

Let us continue to choose the cross, that the power of God might be manifested in us and cleanse us, and purify us, that our joy may be complete

Red Booth Notes: “Chariots of Fire” Writer Colin Welland – A Gentleman and Artist

2012-05-09T16:26:01Z

Every now and again, you meet someone you know you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Ten years ago, I met Colin Welland, screenwriter for the now classic film, Chariots of Fire. We were only together in Hollywood for a few days, but I feel as though I was given a lifetime of memories when in his company.

I have a cherished friend, the gifted producer Ken Wales, to thank for my introduction. Just after Ken and I grabbed a quick, tasty lunch at the In and Out hamburger restaurant, we drove over to LAX to collect Colin. Since he had to go through US Customs, Ken stood ready to meet him at one end of the exit, while I took a perch atop a Smarte-Carte luggage caddy to get the best view of the other side of the gate. I’d been told that Colin’s knees were giving him trouble, and to look for a man in a wheelchair.

After a while, Ken and I came back the same place to wait together for Colin, as there was a bit of a delay. Then, as we were stood waiting, Colin walked up to us from behind. Ken saw him first, and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned round and Ken said, “Kevin, meet Colin Welland.”

“How do you do?” Colin said with a smile, and we shook hands.

Colin Welland (pic from UK's The Telegraph 1982)

Looking over my diary entries for those days, and for a few days after, I’m deeply grateful that I wrote so many things down about the visits Ken and I had with Colin as we discussed a possible film project.

As we drove around Los Angeles together for a brief tour of places Ken knew well, and wanted us to see, Colin and I found we had something in common in our love of sports. In his younger days, he’d taken part in many a cricket or rugby match, and I had no trouble believing him. Then in his sixties, he still looked as though he could give opposing players a run for their money! He was pleased when I spoke of the great West Indian batsman, Brian Lara, and then proceeded to tell Ken and I several stories about Dickie Bird, the legendary international cricket umpire. It was a great way to begin to get to know one another, and Colin was glad to hear that I was still playing league softball—indeed that we’d just won our league championship. We reminisced some more about matches and games that we’d played, and at one point, Colin quipped, “the older you get, the better you were!”

A few hours later, we stopped at a restaurant for dinner, and I gave Colin a present to thank him for all that Chariots of Fire had meant to me: a 100-year-old copy of the Oxford University Press edition of William Cowper’s Poems. No sooner did he have it in hand, than he began to sing “God Moves In A Mysterious Way,” the great hymn that draws on Cowper’s verse. People turned and looked at us, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Colin to do. I suppose people might be likely to do any number of things in a Los Angeles restaurant, and I remember thinking, “even still, I’ll bet this is a new one.”

* * *

What followed over the few days are a series of conversations and moments that I remember fondly as really human things. Colin showed me pictures of his wife Pat, and his grandson. In kind, I showed him a picture of my wife Kelly, at which point he asked, “When are you coming over to England next?” He had, he said, a great love of The Lake District, country dear to the poet William Wordsworth, and offered to take us there when we were next in England.

Mention of Wordsworth drew forth an impromptu recitation of favourite lines from poetry and plays—Wordsworth and lines from Macbeth from Colin, while I recited lines from the American Robert Coffin’s poem, “Strange Holiness.”

At lunch one afternoon, the subject of faith came up. Though a self-described agnostic, Colin told Ken and me that he had “a little flame of faith.” He told us of his great admiration for a Methodist clergyman at whose funeral he’d given the eulogy. Then, with roguish look in his eye, he spoke of his friendship with the Catholic priest who served the church where he dropped his wife off for Mass each week. Each time, the priest strode over to Colin’s car and shook hands, saying, “We haven’t gotten you yet, but we will…”

Ken Wales with Kevin (scouting locations in York, England & and NYC Amazing Grace premiere)

Shakespeare was a recurring topic of conversation, and I knew I was being treated to a rare privilege when Colin spoke of the great actors and performances he’d known and witnessed.

Fascinating as this was, however, it was Colin’s Shakespearian memories of another sort that I’ll always treasure. He told me that at one point in his younger years, he’d decided to teach Shakespeare to the children who were cruelly called “thick kids” by some at a local school for the mentally impaired. Derided with comments like “You’re wasting your time,” or “they’ll never get it,” Colin and his colleagues persevered. Hearing him speak of performing Shakespeare for these children, and teaching them lines they could retain, was profoundly moving. Somehow, the clouds parted for them, and they experienced a new world through the words and acting that Colin and his colleagues allowed them to experience.

Laughter was never far away during those days. Somehow or other, I thought to mention how much I liked the great British actor Barry Fitzgerald’s performance in the John Ford/John Wayne film The Quiet Man. In a thrice, Ken and I were being regaled with stories that had us wiping tears from our eyes, we’d laughed so hard. We also learned that Colin had a great fondness for Al Jolson songs, and I think he pretty much worked his way through the entire Jolson songbook before we parted company.

And to be sure, Colin spoke often of the screenplays he’d written, or the creation of films that he witnessed first-hand. I heard stories about the 1971 film, Straw Dogs, directed by Sam Peckinpah, and how the film’s star, Dustin Hoffman—and Peckinpah—were in cahoots to generate scared expressions on fellow actors’ faces.

Colin spoke of his work on two superb films, Kes and Yanks. He’d acted in Kes, playing the character, Mr. Farthing. Though the film, about a young boy’s training of a pet falcon, was released in 1969, Colin said children still came up to him, recognizing him from that performance.

Yanks was a film for which Colin had written the screenplay. Starring Richard Gere, the film traces the sometimes stormy, sometimes deeply poignant relations that developed between American servicemen and British citizens during the darkest days of World War II.

So much of the script, Colin said, was based on memories of his childhood. One rather dashing young American serviceman had grown close to two little girls he knew, daughters of a local pub owner. He regaled them with stories of America, and they warmed to his kindness and charm. He was larger than life. They treasured his memory, and the many ways this unlikely friend helped them get through the war.

While researching the film, Colin decided to look this man up. Then living in Illinois, drink had tragically robbed this once vibrant man of his youth and strength. He was only a pale shadow of his former self. Colin grieved to see him this way. But then, when he arranged for a call to be put through to the pub owners’ daughters, now grown young women, a remarkable transformation took place. Colin grew quiet as he described it.

“So soon as this man heard their voices on the phone, the years fell away. He straitened, and spoke to them as I’d always heard them speak of him in their memory. No ocean stood between them, nor the space of 30 years. Somehow, that broken man became his younger self. Then, as he set the phone down, the magic faded. It was all so fleeting, but it was there.”

Last of all, Colin told us many things about the making of Chariots of Fire. My favourite memory is when Colin spoke of his research for the film, of sitting in a darkened film projection room as grainy old footage from the British sports archives flashed across the screen. Scenes from the 1920s lived again. Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams ran as they had done when the eyes of the world were upon them, and when they had won Olympic gold. “It was then I heard myself saying,” Colin remembered, “Don’t worry, lads, I’ll get it right.”

Each time I look at the DVD copy of Chariots that Colin signed for me, I remember that—along with his kindness, singing, and laughter. I always will.[1]

[1] This picture of Colin Welland is taken from an image accompanying Des Lynam’s article for The Telegraph (a newspaper published in the UK), “Stage is set for new golden age at London 2012,” posted online at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/olympics/8362248/Des-Lynam-Stage-is-set-for-new-golden-age-at-London-2012.html

On the Importance of Terminology: Evolution

2012-05-13T02:59:41Z

Words. When it comes to communication, everything, literally everything, comes down to words. A vast system of sentences, propositions, grammatical structure, arguments, and syllogisms are all constructed with words. Behind every word is a set of meanings. In this sense, words are merely a placeholder, a token, through which everyone receives the meaning intended by the speaker or author.

What happens when words lose their meaning? What happens to communication? That region of communication dependent on those ambiguous words begins to fall apart. This post is a reminder of a particular example that has no small import for Christian apologetics, evolution.

The word evolution can be used in a variety of contexts. Consider the following from Webster’s New World College Dictionary:

an unfolding, opening out, or working out; process of development, as from a simple to a complex form, or of gradual, progressive change, as in a social and economic structure

Defined in this manner the term can be used to refer to almost anything. This very post went through a process of evolution from its inspiration through the process of writing, editing and posting.

Yet such examples are not where the problem lies. Stephen Meyer and Michael Keas have identified six different meanings for the word “evolution” just within the context of Biology.[1] This state of affairs is frequently lost on those engaged in debates about human origins or how to integrate science and the Bible. The definitions cited by Meyer and Keas range from the benign and undisputed, “change over time” to what they refer to as the “blind watchmaker thesis” where natural, unguided processes are responsible for the origin and development of all life. This diverse range of meaning results in many examples of the fallacy of equivocation or ambiguity. Materialists will introduce the “change over time” version then soon argue that “blind watchmaker thesis” must also be accepted as true. Young earth creationists will sometimes argue that accepting an ancient universe is equivalent to accepting the entire “blind watchmaker” package.

Once one ventures outside of the academic and popular science circles, the scope of definitions that are poured into that word are as varied as the people you may encounter. In short, in order to have an intelligible discussion, it is impossible to use the word evolution without determining what is meant by its use.

I would suggest even admonish any thoughtful person, whether agnostic or Christian, skeptic or apologist, do not fall prey to people who use the word evolution in a sloppy or cavalier manner. Whenever you encounter it in any context remotely related to biology, do yourself and other a favor, press for the specific meaning intended. If an answer is not offered or available, less communication will occur, but there will also be less confusion.

[1] Stephen C. Meyer and Michael Newton Keas, “The Meanings of Evolution,” in Darwinism, Design and Public Education (East Lansing, Michigan: Michigan State University Press, 2003), 135–156.

Why I Am Going to Houston Baptist University: The Ten Pillars (Part 3)

2012-05-13T04:10:37Z

In Fall 2012 I start work at Houston Baptist University. My job description? Change the world.

Houston is the right place at the right time to do this work. Read John Mark Reynolds’ take on it. You may want to come to Houston too, and if you think that, take it seriously. It is a city that not only has great apologists, but also people who love literature and the arts. My fellow Hieropraxis contributor Andrew Lazo has already laid claim to the endeavor of starting the CS Lewis Society of Houston…he will not have any trouble getting that membership list filled!

In part 1 and part 2 of this piece, I talked about the first six of the Ten Pillars, the vision statement that guides Houston Baptist University. Here are the final four pieces of the vision:

7. Bring Athens and Jerusalem together.

“A university is a cultural center and a place for invitation and engagement. Athens and Jerusalem can meet on a campus in the city of Houston.” Yes indeed!

Houston Baptist University is a place where the intellectual and cultural life, nourished and cultivated on campus, intersects with the life of the community. The campus is a space for engagement – and that is perfect for apologetics. St Paul preached on Mars Hill and quoted from the Greek literature of the day to help present the Gospel to the Athenians. Athens met Jerusalem, and the world was changed.

HBU has three museums: the Durham Bible Museum, the Museum of American Architecture and Domestic Arts, and the Museum of Southern History. The Morris Cultural Arts Center includes a recital hall and a theatre. HBU has made the space for engagement to happen

8. Expand our commitment to the creative arts: visual, musical, and literary.

This is part of the vision of HBU:

“It has been said that the writer of songs influences a culture more than the politician exercising power. What is surely true is that our God is a creative God who brought a beautiful world into existence and filled it with people capable of appreciating beauty. Similarly, just as we believe human beings are made in God’s image, we believe He provided the ability to create artistically as a reflection of his creative glory. The Christian university, committed to the worship of the Creator God, and thus to both aesthetic appreciation and creation, must be involved in the arts.”

I am an academic and a Christian apologist… and by the grace and gift of God, also a poet. Could there be a better place for me than HBU? I think not.

9. Cultivate a strong global focus.

The Gospel is for all people, everywhere. One of the challenges of cultural apologetics is to find ways to share the good news of God in Christ, and remove obstacles to faith, in ways that make sense for people in their particular cultural contexts.

Study abroad and language learning are important parts of learning how to be a gracious, informed, productive citizen in the 21^st century. I am excited to be part of an educational program that recognizes the necessity of both local community (in residential learning and community involvement) and global outreach.

10. Move to the next level as an institution.

And finally, I am excited about HBU because the university recognizes the importance of its role in our culture — and is stepping forward boldly to fill the need.

HBU has a brilliant vision that means educating with a ‘mere Christian’ vision to change the world for the cause of Christ:

“Christians of all stripes – evangelicals, other Protestants, and Catholics – must re-engage their historic commitments to the foundational importance of a university education that is marked by the distinctive convictions and values of historic Christianity. The church must again consider the university as part of its mission because the university is so closely tied to the future of the society.”

HBU is growing as an undergraduate university — moving steadily forward in increasing the size of incoming classes. It is also growing, very intentionally, as a graduate university, with new MA degrees such as the MA in Philosophy. More degrees are in development, including an MA in Apologetics.

The vision is clear:

“The foundation of all the efforts detailed here will be to produce graduates who have been challenged to think carefully and critically, to write and speak clearly and effectively, to demonstrate integrity in their daily lives, and to see their faith as being important both to their behavior and to their way of thinking.”

Great things are ahead… and I am grateful for, and astonished at, the goodness of God that I get a chance to participate in them.

We are going to change the world.

And that is why I am going to Houston Baptist University.

Why I Am Going to Houston Baptist University: The Ten Pillars (Part 2)

2012-05-13T02:51:24Z

In Fall 2012, I start work as a full professor at Houston Baptist University… No one who has been following my work will be surprised to learn that I am coming on board in order to help develop a MA in Apologetics, a sister program to the already-created MA in Philosophy (which has an Apologetics Certificate included — and is accepting applicants right now for the Fall 2012 semester!)

My colleagues include John Mark Reynolds, Nancy Pearcey, Mary Jo Sharp, Michael Licona, Lou Markos, and other outstanding scholars. It is quite the team!

Why Houston Baptist University? Many reasons, but they all rest on the solid foundation of HBU’s vision and commitment to become a beacon of excellence in Christian education.

Mary Jo Sharp and Holly Ordway at Houston Baptist University

The Ten Pillars are the ten principles that guide HBU’s work. In Part 1 I discussed the first three pillars. Now let me pick up with Pillar 4:

4. Establish a residential society of learning.

A strong residential focus for education is not just good pedagogy, it’s good theology.

Part of the challenge of Christian education is to push back against the naturalistic, secular idea that our bodies don’t matter – that we can educate minds without forming the whole person, body and soul. We are made in the image of God, who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; we are made for community and relationship. Ours is an incarnational faith, because the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us.

The residential society is most critical for undergraduates, for whom residential life in a Christian community could, literally, be where they set their feet on the path of life. I have been teaching a diverse body of undergraduates at a commuter school for the past seven years. Our young people crave connection and meaning. A residential society of learning will help them in their studies, their relationships, and their walk with Christ.

A residential society of learning is not just for undergraduates, but for graduate students and faculty as well! It is how the faculty relate with each other and with students. It is how graduate students relate to each other and to faculty. It is a commitment to a particular place as our “home ground” for learning, and to the process of mentoring and discipleship.

5. Increase our cultural impact through our faculty.

Intellectuals from the secular universities have had a powerful shaping influence on our culture – and not for the good. To change this trend, to recover reason and reshape the imagination of the West for Christ, we need to do more than pastoral triage when our young people have their faith shaken in college, or intellectual rear-guard action to defend against wrong ideas that have taken root in scholarship. We must go out into the intellectual, academic world as Christians doing great work in whatever field we are in.

Houston Baptist University has made a commitment to give its faculty the time and encouragement to do research, write, publish, and speak in their fields. I am tremendously excited by this important commitment to engaging with culture in order to transform it. In addition to my teaching, mentoring, and administrative work, I will be actively writing and speaking, especially in my field of specialty, imaginative and literary apologetics, and proudly listing my Houston Baptist University affiliation!

You will see me in November when I speak on Literature and Apologetics at the 2012 Evangelical Philosophical Society Apologetics Conference. And I will be speaking at a conference sponsored by the C.S. Lewis Society of Madison, Wisconsin and the Bradshaw-Knight Foundation: The Ten Books That Most Influenced C.S. Lewis. But wait! Not just me, but also Louis Markos, also of HBU! Here are our topics:

The Aeneid by Virgil presented by Dr. Louis Markos from Houston Baptist University.
Descent Into Hell by Charles Williams presented by Dr. Holly Ordway, Houston Baptist University.

6. Renew our campus, renew our community.

One of the things that I immediately loved about Houston Baptist University when I set foot on campus for the first time is the feel of “place.” The campus is in the city, as part of the community, yet it also has its own distinct identity as a physical location, with enclosing walls, a beautiful (and beautifully symbolic) gate of entry, lovely greenspace with magnolia trees, and buildings that reflect a commitment to architectural grace and beauty. This is a university that knows that it belongs exactly where it is, and that has its roots deep in Texas soil and the Houston community so that it can produce students and scholars of distinction for the entire nation. New buildings are going up, and new connections are being made with the local high schools and the local community. I am excited to see what great things will happen in the days to come…

Read Part 3 here…

Why I’m Going to Houston Baptist University: The Ten Pillars (Part 1)

2012-05-13T22:00:14Z

I am going to Texas! Yes, I am leaving the beaches and breezes of San Diego, to go to Houston Baptist University, where I have accepted the position of Professor starting Fall 2012.

I am a New Englander through and through. Texas was mentally categorized under “people are nice there, and it’s hot and humid. Also, there are cowboy hats.” It was not categorized under “I might work there someday.” Why did I decide to take this step, leaving behind the familiar and secure?

Because we are going to change the world.

The mission of Houston Baptist University is to provide a learning experience that instills in students a passion for academic, spiritual, and professional excellence as a result of our central confession, “Jesus Christ is Lord.” (Mission & Values)

Houston Baptist University’s President Robert Sloan articulates the scope of HBU’s ambition for the Kingdom:

“To say “Jesus Christ is Lord” is not merely to affirm a religious confession, nor to say something only about an interior faith or personal, individualistic values. Rather, to say “Jesus Christ is Lord” is to make a statement that touches not only the private spiritual lives of believers, but encompasses all of the ranges of the created order, including the scope and breadth, as well as the complexities, of human social, political, emotional, and physical experience. He is Lord, not only of the church, but over all things visible and invisible (Colossians 1:16), and therefore there is no area of reality which is, or even can be, outside the sphere of His Lordship. For a university to express Christ’s Lordship as a function of its academic mission is to embrace in principle, through research, teaching, and the learning community, all the questions, issues, and intricacies which curiosity and imagination can engender, from undergraduate through graduate experience.”

John Mark Reynolds, the incoming provost, says that the future’s so bright, he needs shades

You’ll hear more from me, soon, about what I’ll be up to at HBU. But in the meantime, let me start to share with you the vision of HBU, as set out in their Ten Pillars, and how my work lines up with that vision.

You can read the full description of each of the Ten Pillars here.

1. Build on the classics.

To engage with the classics is to step into a deep, rich stream of conversation that has nourished great thinkers, writers, and citizens for hundreds of centuries. I am passionately in favor of teaching from the canon, and have done so to the best of my ability for the past six years as a professor of composition and literature. Building on the classics doesn’t mean ignoring contemporary literature or concerns: quite the opposite. By wresting with books and ideas that have made an impact on culture, and by engaging imaginatively with the fictional and poetic worlds of writers like Homer, Shakespeare, or Austen, students develop the depth of vision and experience to make better sense of their world.

Right now in my Shakespeare class, I have thirty undergraduates, from a wide range of majors and cultural and academic backgrounds. I see the recognition in their eyes as we discuss the destructiveness of Leontes’ irrational jealousy in A Winter’s Tale. I rejoice at the way they wrestle with the power of rhetoric for good and for evil in Julius Caesar. And I delight in the insights they have about the role of the arts in culture, the power of creativity, and the importance of story…making connections to The Hunger Games, Doctor Who, Star Wars…

HBU has committed to a liberal arts core curriculum of the classics for undergraduate education. Every student, not just a lucky few, will get to join the conversation. And that vision of building on the classics is not limited to undergraduate education, but is part of HBU’s vision of graduate education too.

2. Recruit for national influence.

HBU is expanding its recruitment beyond Houston, beyond Texas, and growing in size as well. This makes HBU an exciting place to be right now: a small place, building up for the future. We will be a beacon for Christian education in the world.

3. Embrace the challenge of Christian graduate education.

We desperately need academically rigorous Christian graduate programs in a variety of fields. Why should secular schools be the only option for people who are called to the intellectual life?

My PhD (in English Literature) is from the University of Massachusetts Amherst, and my first MA is from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (also in English); I wasn’t a Christian at the time that I chose my graduate schools, but if I had been, where would I have gone to get the same quality of education in English literature?

Can you imagine a world in which a committed Christian institution offers that kind of excellence? I can.

My second MA (in Apologetics) is from Biola University. Biola is doing amazing things to equip the saints and send them out into the world to work for the Kingdom. But there are more people who need a strong Christian graduate education than Biola can possibly educate, mentor, and equip by themselves. There are regions of the United States (like Texas and the Midwest and New England) that desperately need their own schools to love and support.

Can you imagine a world in which there is an “Ivy League” of Christian graduate schools? I can.

Here is Part 2, and Part 3….