Ruminations

"The Prayers of the People" done right

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 19:54:47 PDT

As a visitor to a great many Episcopal churches all over this country for many years, I can attest that the general state of "The Prayers of the People" is deplorable. The revision of the 1928 Prayer Book was supposed to move us away from rote prayers. With very rare exceptions, this has not happened. Most of the prayers in most of the churches are recited in a boring, repetitive fashion, week in and week out--and changing from Form 1 to Form 6 (or whatever) does not improve the situation. We never actually ask anything; instead, we reel off a list of names without differentiation, or we say "For (fill in the blank)" without ever identifying what we are pleading with the Lord to do "for" whomever or whatever.

I can remember only two congregations in my decades of churchgoing where the prayers were prepared and offered with imagination and deep commitment. In both cases they were composed and read by lay people who had obviously been identified as gifted in this ministry. I have never forgotten the way that these lay ministers presented immediate local problems for prayer, while directly upholding community, national and world concerns. The thanksgivings were specific, the world-wide church was remembered in its various needs, and there was a sense that God was really being personally addressed. These liturgical prayers were composed Sunday by Sunday by these gifted lay people, who used the forms provided but expanded them to meet the season, the need, the location, the current situation.

It has been about ten years since I last heard this done really well. On this past Sunday, I heard it again at St. James in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. This is a congregation under great strain because their historic building, the oldest church in town, has been deemed unsafe and they have been forbidden to use it. They are meeting in a local rental hall. Yet in the main service last Sunday, the prayers were beautifully composed, earnest, and above all directly related to the concerns of the contemporary situation--from the needs of the specific congregation to the demonstrators in the streets of Tehran. Even better, they were designed to arise out of the biblical readings for the day.

The Rev. Francie Hills, rector, began by identifying two people in the congregation with these specific gifts. She gave them copies of Prayers for Sundays and Seasons, by Peter Scagnelli, published by Liturgy Training Publications (Roman Catholic). There are three books, one for each liturgical year. Francie explained, "We adapt these significantly for our use at St. James," meaning that they add and subtract according to the Episcopal Church and to the local situation, but they have a splendid liturgical template on which to base their adaptations.

Their offering certainly fell upon my ears and heart like manna.

Something new in the world?

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 08:44:28 PDT

Jonathan Schell's most famous book, about nuclear holocaust, is The Fate of the Earth. A more recent one, however, The Unconquerable World, is one of a very small number of books which, for me, have been mind-altering. His subject is the rise of nonviolent resistance and "people's war" on the world stage in the 20th century. He begins with a trenchant analysis of war according to Clausewitz, whose views he believes are supportive of his conviction that the world is moving toward a new kind of struggle in which the power of ideas carried out under the leadership of people like Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Tutu, Lech Walesa, and others, cannot be stopped. (See previous Rumination about the Palestinians.)

Tienanmen Square is the great exception, but we cannot know what seeds still lie dormant underground, waiting for the breath of the Spirit. In the meantime, should we not all be praying that "an angel in the whirlwind" be directing this storm in Tehran? (Speaking of which, one of the other books that I count among the very few is John Howard Yoder's The Politics of Jesus.)

A call to the Palestinians

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 07:52:35 PDT

The thing that struck me most about President Obama's speech in Cairo was its direct address to the Palestinians. With particular authority as an African-American, he referred to the history of the civil-rights movement in the United States and the anti-apartheid crusade in South Africa to strengthen his appeal to the Palestinians to set aside violence. It has often been noted that if the Palestinians had mounted a campaign of nonviolent resistance (a la Gandhi's, Tutu's, or Martin Luther King's), they would have been successful, especially in view of the deeply rooted values of the Torah in Judaism. Obama, addressing the Palestinians, said, with regard to violence, "That is not how moral authority is claimed; that is how it is surrendered."

The Palestinians have never had a leader with the commitments of a Gandhi or a King. The Palestinian I respect most, Sari Nusseibeh (author of the indispensable Once Upon a Life) said an astonishing thing in an interview with David Remnick in The New Yorker, a few years ago--he wished the Palestinians would try to act more like the Christian ideal.

Prayer Book revision for better and worse

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 08:29:21 PDT

On the Day of Pentecost we attended a confirmation at a Presbyterian church and were both amazed and thrilled that the presiding minister borrowed the episcopal prayer from the 1928 Episcopal Book of Common Prayer:

Defend, O Lord, this thy child with thy heavenly grace, that s/he may continue thine forever, and daily increase in thy Holy Spirit more and more, until s/he come unto thy everlasting kingdom. Amen.

Every churchgoing Episcopalian knew this prayer by heart, having heard it repeated over and over, year after year, confirmation class after confirmation class, by the bishop as he placed his hands on the heads of each successive confirmand. My husband and I have said it for our own children and grandchildren.

Here is the prayer from the 1979 revised Prayer Book:

Strengthen, O Lord, your servant with your Holy Spirit; empower him/her for your service; and sustain him all the days of his/her life. Amen.

Will someone please explain why and how this pedestrian new prayer, utterly lacking the cadence and majesty of the older one, is better?

(It has been called to my attention that the 1979 BCP does include the old prayer--with "thy" changed to "your"--but I had not noticed it because all the bishops in my purview have used the new one. However, wonder of wonders, just this past Sunday, June 14, Bishop Peter Lee used the old one at a service of confirmation in Leesburg, Virginia.

It occurs to me that the newer prayer is a result of the shift away from the biblical view of the human predicament. We do not believe we need to be defended from anything, but only "strengthened," "empowered," and "sustained," as though we were essentially OK but could use some extra help. In the apocalyptic view of the New Testament, we are defenseless against the principalities and powers without the intervention of "the Lord God of Sabaoth [Hosts]").

Anne Brontë on universal salvation

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Tue, 19 May 2009 17:37:46 PDT

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is far less well known than Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë, and Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë, but in recent years Anne Brontë, the youngest of the famous sisters, has begun to command attention on her own. One reason for the critical neglect of Anne's work was Charlotte's disapproval of the realistic way in which Anne wrote about alcoholism, gambling, adultery, domestic violence, and marital cruelty. Today The Tenant of Wildfell Hall seems proto-feminist in its depiction of a woman's struggle to find her place in the world.

(Spoiler alert: if you are thinking of reading this book, perhaps you will want to return to this post at a later time.)

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall tells the story of a beautiful, intelligent, artistically gifted young woman who has come to live in a remote house on the moors of England under the assumed name of Helen Graham. She is secretive, her past is mysterious, and she has a young son—circumstances which cause tongues to wag. Her beauty and fascination, however, cause several men to pursue her, which creates all sorts of false leads and passionate conflicts. In the course of the story, the truth of her marriage to a glamorous but abusive husband, and her flight from him, gradually become known.

Helen is a deeply devout Christian, which would be an oddity in a literary novel today, but all the Brontë siblings, being the children of a clergyman, were to one degree or another biblically and doctrinally literate, and the King James Version was the very foundation of English speech until (alas) the last half of the twentieth century. Quotations from Scripture are found throughout the novel, but Helen's own faith and devotion play a vital role in the narrative, especially in her quest to save her husband from his demons. Running throughout the novel is a debate between Helen and her strict aunt, who is given to quoting biblical passages warning of damnation in order to persuade her niece of her husband's incorrigible wickedness. In arguing with her aunt (who, it must be said, is quite right about the husband), Helen says that she has searched the Bible and found thirty passages which tend to support her hope that God's purposes may ultimately embrace even the lost, and she quotes some of them. I have not been able to identify all of them, for Helen (or Anne) has sometimes conflated one or more passages with others, but this is done with biblical integrity:

The wicked man will not be thrown into hell "forever," insists Helen, but only "till he has paid the uttermost farthing" (Matthew 5:26)
"If any man's work abide not the fire, he shall suffer loss, yet himself shall be saved, but so as by fire" (I Corinthians 3:15)
"He that is able to subdue all things to himself will have all men to be saved" (Philippians 3:21, I Tim 2:4)
"He will in the fulness of time gather together in one all things in Christ Jesus, who tasted death for every man, and in whom God will reconcile all things to himself, whether they be things in earth or things in heaven" (Ephesians 1:10, Hebrews 2:9, Colossians 1:20)

(Some of Helen's thirty passages might include Paul in I Corinthians 5:4-5—"When you are assembled, and my spirit is present, with the power of our Lord Jesus, you are to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus." Also Romans 11:32—"For God has consigned all men to disobedience, that he may have mercy upon all.")

Helen then puts forward a sophisticated linguistic point that has been made by some scholars:

"In [the passages quoted by her aunt], the only difficulty is in the word which we translate 'everlasting' or 'eternal.' I don't know the Greek, but I believe it strictly means 'for ages,' and might signify either 'endless' or 'long-enduring.' And as for the danger of the belief [in eventual salvation even for the wicked], I would not publish it abroad, if I thought any poor wretch would be likely to presume upon it to his own destruction, but it is a glorious thought to cherish in one's heart, and I would not part with it for all the world can give!"

This declaration preserves a remarkable balance between the risk of belief in universal salvation when it encourages disregard of the Commandments and the godly life, on the one hand, and on the other, the buoyancy of faith in the all-conquering grace and mercy of God which gives hope to the world's end..

When this conversation with her aunt takes place, Helen is naïve and untested. She has not yet married her handsome husband and knows nothing of the misery he will inflict upon her. Her biblical views are therefore idealistic, whereas her aunt is quite right in urging her to think again before she undertakes the marriage. However, years later, when Helen has fled from the terrible trap she has fallen into, her faith in God's invincible grace is put to the test. Her husband falls seriously ill, and his death would mean her freedom; yet she returns to him to nurse him. For months at his bedside, she ministers not only to his body but to his soul, urging him to repent and yield himself to his Savior. She learns that he is no Don Giovanni, bellowing his defiance into the flames of hell—rather, he is a cynic and a coward, terrified of death, yet unwilling or unable to embrace faith. He dies in misery, unshriven and unreconciled. Here is what Helen writes to her brother that night:

"Oh, Frederick! None can imagine the miseries, bodily and mental, of that death-bed! How could I endure to think that poor trembling soul was hurried away to everlasting torment? It would drive me mad. But thank God I have hope—not only from a vague dependence on the possibility that penitence and pardon might have reached him at the last, but from the blessed confidence that, through whatever purging fires the erring spirit may be doomed to pass—whatever fate awaits, still, it is not lost, and God, who hateth nothing that he hath made [Book of Common Prayer], will bless it in the end!"

This is quite extraordinary. Note the intellectual rigor that refuses wishful thinking and "vague dependence," but relies solely on the power and mercy of God who "is able even to subdue all things to himself" (Philippians 3:21). I don't really know of a more striking example of the argument for the hope of universal salvation. The theologian George Hunsinger said to me once that, given the ambiguity of the biblical testimony, we cannot speak with certainty of the salvation of all, but like Helen in the story, "We are permitted to hope for it."

In this regard, I often think of what J. Christiaan Beker wrote in his classic Paul the Apostle: The Triumph of God in Life and Thought—"The final apocalyptic triumph of God does not permit a permanent pocket of evil or resistance to God [to remain] in his creation." (p.194)

A "Modest Proposal"

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Thu, 28 May 2009 19:48:52 PDT

Whoa. "Things fall apart" (Yeats). The Church of Scotland, that former bastion of all things Presbyterian, biblical, and evangelical, hits the news with this story about the hysterically anti-gay clergyman The Rev. Ian Watson:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/scotland/article6276839.ece

Granted, no point of view should be judged with reference to its most manic advocates, but there should be far more "conservatives" speaking out against this vicious sort of thing than there have been.

Let's imagine something, for the sake of the argument (in the traditional sense of the word argument). Let's imagine that those opposed to the ordination of active homosexuals and the use of the term "marriage" to describe same-sex unions laid down their arms and acquiesced in the whole array of items on the human-sexuality agenda, a proposal that conceivably might accord with what God is doing in our time.

Would that then mean that the severe divisions in the mainline churches would be healed? Would we be able to reunite and go forward with the mission of the church (our "missional" identity, in the current lingo)?

In a word, no.

One reason for this is that we have not had a serious theological debate in the churches about the sexuality question, but let that go. The other reason is that there is a whole host of issues at stake that have not been addressed in a mutually respectful and probing fashion for a long time; sides were drawn up decades ago and the two camps barely speak to one another. Take for example these foundational matters of doctrine:

--The uniqueness of Christ as the Only-Begotten Son
--The nature of the Trinity
--The definition of the gospel
--The power of sin
--The nature of the demonic
--The doctrine of revelation
--The Bible as the Word of God
--The active agency of God in the world
--The relation of faith and obedience
--The nature of baptism
--The definition of salvation
--The meaning of Christ's death on the cross
--The reality of the resurrection
--The significance of non-violent resistance
--The corporate nature of the Body of Christ

On these issues and many others, the differences between the--what shall we call them? liberals? revisionists? progressives? and the--ouch--conservative regressive traditionalists (can we say evangelicals?) are so vast and have been held tightly for so long that it is hard even to imagine how the conversation could begin. But let us hope and let us continue to bear witness to the promise that with God all things are possible.

Reynolds Price comes out, literarily speaking

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Wed, 13 May 2009 19:48:43 PDT

The writer Reynolds Price has attracted notice from many Christian readers, including myself, for his religious and, often, surprisingly theological thoughts. As The New York Times book reviewer Dwight Garner notes today, many of us did not notice that he is homosexual. This is by Price's own choice; in his new memoir/autobiography, he explains his silence on the subject this way: “I’ve been more steadily interested in exploring lives involved in complex families with lengthy histories which are endlessly subject to change and fate, and such lives are generally heterosexual.” (As a parenthesis he notes this, as well: “I’ve also observed that few readers are interested, over long stretches, in stories of homosexual life; and I’ve never scorned readers.” Garner observes that this is probably less true than it used to be.)

As an admirer of some of Price's theological observations, I find him interesting. Our understanding of homosexuality is still in flux, and the common practice of reverting to the well-worn biblical passages prohibiting homosexual acts has not proven to be convincing to most people; indeed, the more we do it, the more it turns people off. The God-given distinction between male and female which is so central to the Genesis account of creation points to more fruitful ways of approaching the question while still leaving some space for alternatives.

I do not mean to suggest that Price is ashamed of his gay life-- quite the contrary. He describes his latest memoir, Ardent Spirits, as one of "high adult happiness." I have not yet read it yet--though I plan to--but the excerpts quoted in the review suggest a deeply reflective and nuanced perspective which is quite different from the usual gay manifesto. Thus Price writes, “Sex between men is, in one pure sense, the ideal male sex act, productive of possible affection and a quick intense pleasure — an act that’s profoundly different from female sex, likely as that often is to result in the commencement of a child’s life.”

Reflecting on pirates and substitutes

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 08:56:58 PDT

Reading about the capture and dramatic release of Captain Richard Phillips prompted two sets of thoughts:

1) The dead pirates

My delight in the prowess of the Navy sharpshooters was a wake-up call to myself. It was truly thrilling to hear of the result: three shots, three deaths--an amazing feat, performed after sunset, with a bobbing boat as a target. I watched the animations over and over with a great sense of satisfaction.

Yet Christians, I think, should beware of rejoicing in the death of anyone (though a sober sense of thanksgiving for justice and deliverance would be suitable). From what we have heard so far, the pirates were almost children. Like child soldiers everywhere, they cannot be said to be fully formed in a moral sense.

It's true that Miriam sang her immortal song of victory: "Let us sing unto the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously: the horse and rider thrown into the sea." I have never been one to lament for the Egyptians "dead upon the seashore." But the Scripture taken as a whole calls us to a larger view of the bondage we all share, "Egyptians" and "Israelites" alike, and a developed sense of our common human predicament.

2) The substitute

It will be another week, at least, before we know all the circumstances of Captain Phillips' capture. There have been reports, however, that he volunteered to be taken so as to protect his crew--and some of the crew said they owed their lives to him. This makes me think of the way that the Crucifixion of Christ has been interpreted--a subject on which I have spent ten years (and counting) of my life.

The theme of substitution has been under ferocious attack for some decades now, and the intensity is increasing (see for instance the article in last month's Christian Century, "God Does Not Demand Blood"). I admit to being somewhat baffled by these assaults, though I am trying hard to understand. The central problem, for many, seems to be that the concept of Christ as a substitute-- or a blood sacrifice-- for the sinful human race leads to masochistic or oppressive behavior, driven by the assumption that "redemptive suffering" is an enslaving concept. There is also a misinterpretation of the meaning of "the blood," which is all too often presented as something God demands rather then something God gives. (Granted, I am not doing justice to the arguments of those who don't like the substitution motif, but I take them up in more detail in my two-thirds-finished book.) One of the most serious problems with these objections is that they tend to be based on a misunderstanding and misreading of Anselm (David Bentley Hart is among those who has mounted a defense of Anselm in this regard.)

It is not necessary to work out a complicated system of supposedly logical steps in order to tell how Jesus Christ stepped into our place. A particular problem with the "substitutionary atonement" or "penal substitution theory" that was so influential in Protestant scholasticism was its excessive rationality, carried beyond that of Anselm. But take the case of Captain Phillips as a snapshot. He stepped into the place of his crew members. He took their plight upon himself. He gave himself up for them. He said (in effect) "not them, but me." Would it be a stretch to say that he substituted himself for them?

Should this basic concept cause so much offense to so many, today? I am arguing that, whereas the complicated legalistic-rationalistic apparatus should be abandoned, the theme/motif of substitution is absolutely essential for a full understanding of our predicament and Christ's total identification with us.

And there is an additional, unique factor to consider. Jesus died not only for the victims and hostages, not only for his own crew. He died also for the pirates and their bosses and for all the people of the failed state of Somalia.

Making “the invisible man” visible

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 07:30:01 PDT

In a recent sermon posted on this site (“Imagine the Sojourner”), the importance of imagination is stressed with regard to the plight of defenseless people, in particular those suffering under torture. Another way of getting at the same point is to say with the great writer Joseph Conrad, “My task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word to make you hear, to make you feel--it is, before all, to make you see.”[1] Ralph Ellison titled his immortal novel about the black struggle The Invisible Man. We don’t know what kind of president Barack Obama will be, but when the Obamas disembarked from Air Force One in London this week, the whole world could see that the African-American black man and woman are no longer invisible. For that, God be praised.

But Conrad’s task has scarcely begun. It takes work to see another person in Conrad’s sense. It requires effort to imagine oneself in strange, unfamiliar, or discomfiting circumstances. It is not our nature to do this work; it grinds against what is comforting and soothing. We who do not do it should greatly honor those who do—the writers of literary fiction, like Conrad, who make us see the “nigger,” the outcast, the alien. The filmmakers also, in recent movies like The Lives of Others, Gran Torino, Frozen River, and The Visitor, help us to see the Other. But part of the problem is that people who want to avoid seeing the Other—the sojourner, the invisible person—do not seek out such movies or books. All the more reason for preachers to search for illustrations. The good journalists are busy helping us. I found an example this morning (April 3) in The New York Times.

The front-page above-the-fold article is headlined, “Immigrant Detainee Dies, and a Life Is Buried, Too.” It tells a story that is in all probability not particularly unusual within our bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). All over this country, foreigners awaiting deportation are held in detention for months and even years while their cases languish. In this particular situation a Pakistani man named Ahmad Tanveer died from a heart attack while in custody at the Monmouth County Correctional Institute in New Jersey. He was only 43. His chest pains and pleas for medical attention were ignored by the jail officials until it was too late. This happened in 2005, and only now, four years later, has Mr. Tanveer’s existence, let alone his death, been acknowledged by the ICE.

The circumstances of the fresh publicity about this case are very important. The key factors are the Freedom of Information Act, The ACLU, the New Jersey Civil Rights Defense Committee, several months of investigation by The New York Times, and not least the efforts of a 73-year-old Polish Jew named Jean Blum who has been corresponding for years with detainees in the Monmouth County jail even though she could scarcely afford the postage. Ms. Blum’s parents escaped with her from Poland just ahead of the Nazis. Here’s what this representative of Judaism at its extraordinary best said to the Times reporter: “I am very, very aware of the issues that involve displaced persons. I could not turn my back, because that is my history.”

But the most poignant aspect of this story involves a letter from a Nigerian detainee who was in the jail with Ahmed Tanveer. In broken English, laboriously writing by hand, he wrote to a correspondent from the New Jersey Civil Rights Defense Committee. “The jail is trying to cover about Mr. Ahmed death,” he writes. “He die today about 6 pm…Mr. Ahmed before he die was saying this [ICE] officer he lay [lie] too much he all the time lay about what is going on with us here…Death need to be investigated, we care very much because that can happen to anyone of us.”

“Yet like a message in a bottle tossed from a distant shore,” the reporter (Nina Bernstein) writes, “even the fact of [Ahmed Tanveer’s] death was soon swept away…The case underscores the secrecy and lack of legal accountability that continues to shield the system from independent oversight…”

Many columns of newspaper type detailing the missteps, neglect, cover-ups, and bureaucratic indifference follow before the final bit of information ferreted out by this hard-working, inadequately paid, underappreciated reporter. This paragraph is the one that drove me to my computer to write this blog-post:

“The Nigerian detainee who wrote the urgent [painstakingly handwritten] letter, an ailing diabetic, was later released pending a deportation hearing. According to social workers at the Queens-based charity that was his last known contact, he is now a homeless fugitive, lost in the streets of New York.”

Thus Ms. Bernstein has remarkably succeeded in Conrad’s enterprise: “My task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word to make you hear, to make you feel--it is, before all, to make you see."

“

[1] Preface to “The Nigger of the Narcissus.” Italics and punctuation original.

Thoughts for Maundy Thursday

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 12:12:51 PDT

The Japanese theologian Kosuke Koyama, who taught at my seminary (Union in New York), entered into glory last Wednesday. His way of being Christian while engaging with other religions was more faithful to the essence of the gospel than that of most other interfaith enthusiasts.

The New York Times obituary gave this account of his conversion:

Dr. Koyama was born on Dec. 10, 1929, in Tokyo. In 1945, as American bombs rained down on Tokyo, he was baptized as a Christian at the age of 15. He was struck by the courageous words of the presiding pastor, who told him that God called on him to love everybody, “even the Americans.”

This coming Holy Week is a time for reflection on the love of Jesus not only for victims but also for perpetrators, and his prayer for his enemies (us).

Another welcome passage in the obituary is one that reminds me of Prof. Koyama's "water buffalo theology":

Dr. Koyama [used] poetic, not academic, language. As a missionary in northern Thailand, he said, he was inspired to write it as he listened to the “fugue of the bullfrogs” while watching farmers working with buffaloes in the rice fields.
“The water buffaloes tell me that I must preach to these farmers in the simplest sentence structure,” he wrote. “They remind me to discard all the abstract ideas and to use exclusively objects that are immediately tangible. ‘Sticky rice,’ ‘banana,’ ‘pepper,’ ‘dog,’ ‘cat,’ ‘bicycle,’ ‘rainy season,’ ‘leaking house,’ ‘fishing,’ ‘cockfighting,’ ‘lottery,’ ‘stomachache’ — these are meaningful words for them.”

But most meaningful of all from my point of view was the last paragraph in the obituary. Maundy Thursday is not far away, with its now-obligatory footwashing. I am among those not-so-few who dislike the ceremony of footwashing. It takes a lot of time that would be better used in preaching a careful expository sermon about the Christological meaning of the footwashing. Many interpreters have stressed that the primary meaning of Christ's action at the Last Supper is Christological, that is to say, it reveals who he is. The instruction to go and do likewise is the secondary meaning. Since the Gospel of John is so conspicuously Christological, with its primary motive clearly stated (in 20:31) "that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God," it is always a good idea to look for the epiphany in each passage. The chief message is not "You should wash each other's feet" (it is difficult--not impossible, but difficult--to transpose this meaningfully into a culture unfamiliar with footwashing). The chief message is, "Look what I and the Father are doing for you on the night before my death."

Dr. Koyama, in his simple, gentle way, interprets the story from this angle. He does not interpret it as an exhortation to go and do likewise (which is definitely present in the story but is secondary to the revelatory aspect). He is thinking of how it will be when we meet the Lord:

Once, in discussing death, Dr. Koyama recalled the story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. He said Jesus would be with others the same way:
“Looking into our eyes and heart, Jesus will say: ‘You’ve had a difficult journey. You must be tired, and dirty. Let me wash your feet. The banquet’s ready.’ ”

Muggle she was not: Mrs. Charles Darwin

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 06:06:48 PST

A friend just sent me this remarkable quotation from Mrs. Charles Darwin, gleaned from an exhibition on Darwin at the American Museum of Natural History. In one sentence, Mrs. D. says it all. Here is the verbatim text from the exhibition, with the quotation:

"EVERY THING THAT CONCERNS YOU CONCERNS ME"

Letter from Emma Darwin to Charles Darwin, February 1839 (page 2 of 4)

Dr. Darwin [Charles' father] had advised Charles to keep his spiritual doubts to himself—"some women suffered miserably" if they thought their husbands were not going to heaven, he told his son. But this letter, which Emma wrote soon after their marriage, shows Charles must have ignored his father's advice.

Emma took a much more literal view of resurrection and salvation than did her husband. She believed Charles tended to apply scientific standards of proof to questions of faith, and—as revealed here—his skepticism worried her deeply.

"May not the habit in scientific pursuits of believing nothing till it is proved, influence your mind too much in other things which cannot be proved in the same way, & which if true are likely to be above our comprehension."

At the bottom of this letter is a poignant note in Darwin's hand. "When I am dead, know that many times, I have kissed & cryed over this. C. D."

Muggles among us (Darwin's anniversary)

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 20:51:49 PST

Darwin's 200th birthday was the occasion for an outburst of scathing commentary on NPR. The biologists and paleontologists were called in en masse and none of them (that I heard, at least) missed an opportunity to heap disdain upon religious believers. Under gentle pressure by an interviewer, one of them admitted that he had a colleague who was a devout Roman Catholic, but by his further comments he clearly indicated that he thought this was "hypocrisy" (his word) on the part of the colleague. This biologist's concept of hypocrisy is a window into his limitations. He was contemptuous of the idea that science is one realm and the transcendent, unseen world another. Richard Dawkins' assault (see my previous Muggle posting) upon fairy tales for children confirmed my belief that some scientists are unfortunately impoverished in their understanding. (As has long been noted, this is less the case among the physicists.)

As an act of protest against Muggledom, I went to Carnegie Hall to hear Haydn's oratorio The Creation. What a radiant, joyous masterwork! Someone said that Haydn, alone among composers, evokes an unfallen world. (Others have complained "too much C major!") The splendor of this music with its famous "And there was light!" and the humor and delight that Haydn brings to his depiction of the animal kingdom, from sporting whale to soaring eagle to lowly worm, is a rebuke to all Muggles.

There really is a challenge here to all who teach the Christian faith. The ability to hold two concepts of reality in one's mind simultaneously seems to be a gift, not an acquisition. I don't see how this gift is to be nurtured without attention given in earliest childhood to poetry, fantasy, mythology, and literary fiction. It is well known that we desperately need more scientists in the United States. Let us hope that our budding young scientists are readers as well.

There is a bumper sticker showing two fish kissing—one is the familiar Christian fish symbol and the other is Darwin. This is pretty corny, but at least it gets the point out there.

Biblical themes in the film Frozen River

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 17:38:36 PST

The Oscar-nominated performance of Melissa Leo is only one reason to see this gripping movie about some of the most down-and-out people ever portrayed in an American film. Shot in the seemingly godforsaken territory of northern New York State near the Canadian border, the bleak landscape of snow and ice suggests desperation and the end of the road. Citizens and aliens live in trailers and campers on both sides of the border of the Mohawk "Rez," a land of disentitlement, poverty, and lawlessness. These are people—"trailer trash"—that most of us don’t know, which makes the movie all the more important for revealing their lives to us in full and sympathetic dimensions.

Melissa plays Ray, a prematurely aged 30-something mother of two boys. Ray works part time at the Yankee Dollar store, feeding the boys on popcorn and Tang while her husband gambles away the money they were saving to purchase her dream—a double-wide trailer with a Jacuzzi. When he disappears altogether, and Ray faces Christmas Eve with no presents for the boys and the promise of the double-wide vanishing, an opportunity presents itself in the unlikely form of a young, chubby, nearsighted Mohawk single mother (Lila) who earns fistfuls of cash smuggling illegals into the country from Canada by driving across the frozen river and bringing them back in the trunk of whatever car she has managed to beg, borrow, or steal. The police do not bother to interrupt this trade because it takes place in Mohawk country, where there is no border between legal and illegal activity. Ray's car is just what Lila needs, and splitting Lila's rolls of money is just what Ray needs.

The movie was shot on something less than a shoestring in 24 days, using local Mohawks as actors, with film crew members filling in the non-speaking parts. The musical score is both haunting and unobtrusive. In other words, this is the very opposite of a commercial film, and is all the more impressive for it.

Although Ray holds center stage, the development of Lila as a character is really the principal theme of the movie. Lila’s year-old son has been taken from her by her in-laws, and she has developed a persona of stoic, expressionless impassivity. She maintains this front throughout the drama until almost the very end, when Ray performs a sacrificial act that opens the door to a future for Lila—and indeed, for them both. But the moment in the film that I wish to highlight comes earlier. The two women are smuggling in two Pakistanis who are carrying a bundle. Ray is enraged by this; she is willing to smuggle Chinese but not people she suspects of being suicide bombers. She stops in the middle of the frozen river, grabs the bundle from the back seat, and leaves it on the ice. When they arrive at their destination on the other side, they discover that the bundle was in fact a snugly wrapped infant.

Back they go to retrieve the bundle, Ray driving the car as usual and Lila as passenger in the front seat. When they find it, Ray instructs Lila to hold it and keep it warm as they drive back over the ice. Lila says, "It’s dead." Ray says maybe it’s just cold, and urges Lila to hold it close. "The baby is dead," Lila insists with her characteristic lack of affect. "Whatever," says Ray, but tells her to hold it anyway. When they are almost back across the river, Lila sees that the baby is moving. Ray says, "Hello, little baby," sweetly, with a flicker of a smile. They deliver the baby to the Pakistani mother. As they drive back to their decrepit respective "homes," Lila says again, "The baby was dead." Ray says no, it was just cold. "The baby was dead," Lila insists. "Whatever," says Ray, and then, "See, you brought it to life." Looking straight ahead with her unyieldingly stolid expression, Lila says, "It wasn't me. It was the Creator." (The English subtitles, interestingly, capitalize "Creator.")

My mind went to the story of the prophet Elisha and the son of the Shunammite woman who was restored to life by God through the warmth of the prophet's body (II Kings 4:18-37). Surely the movie director did not intend such a reference, but the words given to Lila to speak are astonishing. Did she mean to refer to some Mohawk creator? I'd just as soon not go in that direction. For a Christian, Lila's refusal to agree with Ray that no miracle had occurred points to the God who raises the dead and calls into being the things that do not exist. Without going into further details I will just note that something subtly transformative comes over Lila, represented in a subsequent scene by the first suggestion of a smile we have seen on her hitherto expressionless face; and the movie ends with the melting of the snow and a hint of a new family coming into being. I'll never pass a trailer camp again without thinking of Ray and Lila and the life-giving power of our Creator.

P.S. I have seen the movie twice but have not been able to hear clearly what is said at one point about Christian converts. The most I was able to gather is that some Mohawk converts are not celebrating Christmas. Ray protests that it is terrible to deprive children of Santa Claus. This reminds me of a saying precious to me: a young clergy colleague of mine who had very young children said that he thought Santa Claus was a way of training a child's mind for transcendence. I agree (see previous Rumination on Muggles.)

The death and life of Alison des Forges

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 09:51:51 PST

Like everybody else, I was distressed to learn of the death of 9/11 widow Beverly Eckert, a heroic fighter for truth and transparency in the face of an obstinate and dissembling Bush administration. All the news on the first day after the plane crash near Buffalo was about her.

But on the second day, when I heard the name Alison des Forges over the radio as one of those dead, I experienced a shock of particular and personal grief. Anyone who has been interested in the subject of genocide, and Rwanda in particular, will recognize her name. Her book about the killings in Rwanda is the definitive account of the subject. She spent virtually her entire life studying Rwanda, and issued early warnings about the genocide. Only ten days ago she was quoted in news reports about the Goucher College professor accused of being one of the Rwandan genocidaires.

I have sent gifts in memory of Alison des Forges to Human Rights Watch and to Paul Rusesabagina's Hotel Rwanda Foundation. I reached the Hotel Rwanda Foundation at www.hrrfoundation.org.

Gran Torino

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 22:16:29 PST

There's room for debate about this movie. Just how seriously are we meant to take what must seem to Christians to be a strongly Christ-oriented story? Surely Clint Eastwood does not intend what some of us see in the literally cruciform climax? (Yet I’ve never forgotten a scene from The Unforgiven. Here's the relevant portion from my book The Bible and the New York Times:

"Clint Eastwood's young sidekick has just participated in the shooting and the painful and prolonged death of another man. He is shaken, but he reassures himself by saying, 'He had it coming.' He receives no comfort from Clint, who utters this deathless line, 'We all have it coming.'"

Gran Torino is certainly one of the best, most unsparing expositions in film of the tensions in our multiculti American society. The Eastwood character, Walt Kowalski, uses every epithet in the book and more besides—sometimes hilariously, it must be said—to insult his neighbors. These scurrilous outbursts are offset by the loving attention given by the director Eastwood and his screenwriter, Nick Schenk, to the Hmong people and their customs. Admirable also is the razor-sharp view of the plight of young males in our urban subculture—black, Latino, Asian.

Being no great fan of the early, Dirty Harry Eastwood, I do not look in this film for echoes of his earlier performances, but concentrate on this one, which seems to me a masterpiece. Walt Kowalski, a foul-mouthed racist alumnus of the Detroit auto factories, is no Archie Bunker, but far more subtly observed and portrayed. Perhaps the key lines are the ones in which he admits that he has been a failure as a father to his own sons, and that he has more in common with the "gooks" next door than he does with his own family. In many ways the movie is a meditation on fatherhood. There are explicit references to the failure of the Hmong men in the extended family next door. The movie then shows how Walt tries to learn how to be a father figure to his teenage Hmong neighbor. His attempts are off-key, awkward, sometimes painful, but he is teaching—one of the most valuable forms that love can take.

Redemption is perhaps an overworked theme in American films, and no doubt there is a formulaic quality to this one. Yet the nature of the climax is so unexpected, and the symbolism so striking, and the benediction so fitting, that it transcends formula, becoming a true illustration of the justification of the ungodly (Romans 4:5, 5:6).

Praise God for African-American Christianity

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 10:57:10 PST

There are countless reasons why white Christians should praise God for the black church, and we saw some of them today at the stupendous Inaugural ceremony. Speaking for myself, my tears started to flow when Aretha Franklin stood up in her magnificent church-lady hat and spun out her famous voice across the millions in the Mall.

Was she worried about being politically correct? "Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims' pride..." Her "fathers" owned slaves, and the Pilgrims are derided today by the bien-pensant, but she stood proudly on their legacy this morning and did not disrespect them by altering the words of the familiar patriotic hymn.

Then Joseph Lowery, one of the few Civil Rights lions still alive, closed the ceremony with as classic a Biblical benediction--ending in cross-cultural humor that touched all the bases--as one could ever hope to hear. Not for him any tender-minded scruples about quoting Scripture; he quoted it robustly, extensively, and in full confidence of the universality of its message.

I am not sentimental or romantic about the black church. It has its manifest failings just like every other branch of the people of God. But it should be celebrated gratefully for its generosity in connecting the hopes and fears of their own community to the hopes and fears of all the years, and its pitch-perfect way of incorporating political aspirations into the great sweep of the story of the salvation of our God.

Gene Robinson and the universal gospel

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 08:42:14 PST

The basic problem with Bishop Gene Robinson is not that he is openly and actively homosexual. The real problem is that he does not believe Christianity is a universal faith, nor does he believe that the Hebrew and Christian scriptures have a universal message. Why do I say that? Well, because of some things he said that are quoted in The New York Times. In an article about his being chosen to give a public prayer at the time of the inauguration (not at the inaugural ceremony itself), he said that he had been reading former inaugural prayers and was "horrified" at how "aggressively Christian" they are. He says that his prayer at the time of the inauguration will not be a Christian prayer at all, "and I won't be quoting Scripture or anything like that." He said he might offer a prayer to the "God of our many understandings" (using AA language).

I can certainly imagine a situation in which prayer to "God" without Trinitarian language might be called for, for instance in an emergency situation like a battlefield or under bombardment where there were people of many faiths. I believe that Christians can pray with Jews to "God." Possibly even with Muslims. But for a Bishop of the Christian Church to say (aggressively) that he is shocked by Christian prayers offered at past inaugurations and that he will not offer a Christian prayer suggests that he does not really believe that the Christian gospel is truly universal (I do not use that wimpy word "inclusive").

What does this mean? Does it mean that Christian clergy and other Christians should not offer prayers at official functions at all? Maybe. Does it mean that we should simply do away with all prayer at public events? Maybe. I don't know. But what I do know is that we (especially those of us on the evangelical left) must do a much better job of teaching the universal message of (for instance) Isaiah 40-55, some of the Psalms, and Romans 9-11.

P. S. Having now heard most of Bp. Robinson's prayer on NPR, I find some of it very impressive (asking "the God of our many understandings" to bless us with more tears concerning suffering, more anger against injustice-- reminiscent of William Sloane Coffin's famous public prayers). The point is not the prayer itself. The point is that Bp. Robinson, in his quoted remarks, discloses his lack of faith in and understanding of the radically universal message of the Scriptures which he disdained to quote.

The Judeo-Christian tradition: still the best

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 13:54:50 PST

For many years I have been testing my belief that the Judeo-Christian heritage is the strongest of all the world’s traditions, and I have not found any evidence to make me change my mind. The superiority of the Jewish and Christian faiths, tied ineluctably together as they are, is certainly not dependent on superior moral performance, however. It can be persuasively argued that no faith is superior to any other in the arena of actual human behavior. There are atrocities and horrors enough to go around (who knew, until the book Zen at War was published in 1997, that Zen Buddhism was profoundly complicit in the whole Japanese military effort before and during World War II—with an added overtone of anti-Semitism?). The Church has acknowledged its manifold sins repeatedly and still continues to make amends. The factor that makes our tradition unique is its self-correcting core. I do not see this deeply rooted value in Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam or Chinese philosophy.

Take for example an article on today’s New York Times front page, “Betrayed by Madoff, Yeshiva University Adds a Lesson.” The point of the article is that the arch-schemer is Jewish, and the Orthodox university is searching its soul. It is an arresting example of the way that Judaism questions itself from within. I argue that this capacity is built into the Biblical faith and derives from its ever-renewing Source. Jews interpret the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) differently from Christians, because they read it through the lenses of the Talmud and the Mishnah, but there can be no mistaking the emphasis on self-criticism in light of the values derived from the story of the Hebrew God.

Here are some excerpts from the news article (my links are not working well at the moment, but Javier C. Hernandez wrote it):

===============================

One by one, the students in Rabbi Norman Linzer’s class last week wrestled with the headlines and their emotions. Some said Mr. Madoff’s religious affiliation was irrelevant; others worried that his Judaism might tarnish their own…

Yeshiva, a campus of about 7,000 students in Upper Manhattan, is grappling with a sense of personal betrayal that extends beyond the $110 million it says it lost in investments with Mr. Madoff, who had been on the board of trustees since 1996. There is resentment; fear of the revival of ugly, old stereotypes; and, after the fall of a favorite son, uncertainty about how Jewish institutions like theirs should choose role models.

At a school that aims to inculcate ethics and interpersonal morals in its students along with academics — to train future doctors, lawyers, educators and financiers to not just be good at their jobs but to perform them in accordance with traditional Jewish ideals — the story of Mr. Madoff has turned into the consummate teaching moment...

In Rabbi Benjamin Blech’s philosophy of Jewish law course, students pondered whether Jewish values had been distorted to reward material success. “This overrides everything else,” said Rabbi Blech, who has taught at Yeshiva for 42 years. “It is an opportunity to convey to students that ritual alone is not the sole determinant of our Judaism, that it must be combined with humanity, with ethical behavior, with proper values, and most important of all, with regard to our relationship with other human beings”…

Rabbi Blech, who teaches the philosophy of law course, said he… worried that community expectations had steered students away from public-service professions like teaching and toward more lucrative jobs. “In elevating to a level of demi-worship people with big bucks, we have been destroying the values of our future generation,” he said. “We need a total rethinking of who the heroes are, who the role models are, who we should be honoring”…

“What does it say when this fraud is so intertwined with the Jewish community?” asked [Edward] Farbenblum, 26, who is Orthodox and attended Yeshiva as an undergraduate. “One of our religious imperatives is to be morally upstanding, to be the exemplar of what it is to be a moral citizen, and this is a very public case of a failure of that religious ideal”…

Rabbi Blech, for his part, turned to the Ten Commandments, noting that some focus on a person’s relationship with God, others on relationships with fellow human beings. He said that “both tablets are equally important. Just because you eat kosher and observe the Sabbath does not make you good,” he explained. “If you cheat and steal, you cannot claim you are a good Jew.”

For Christmas: the news from Zimbabwe and other fronts

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 23:21:07 PST

It will be hard for us, in the midst of the economic crisis around the world, to muster up the energy and generosity to care about the indescribable suffering of Africa and other impoverished parts of the world. A friend from India who is presently working in Cambridge (Mass) writes this compelling passage about Zimbabwe:

"In India, we are used to hardship and poverty, but how do we account for problems such as economic uncertainty, job loss and the foreclosure of homes in America, especially when millions of people are involved? It is a fact that there is a genuine sense of fear and anxiety all around us now. However, some analysts have pointed out that the current economic crisis in the U.S. is integrally rooted in the consumerist culture that developed in the West over the recent decades. The pattern of consumption, lifestyle changes and comforts that Americans got used to over the last quarter century were truly unsustainable both economically and ecologically. If, therefore, the present predicament helps all of us to focus clearly on the Gandhian dictum, 'We must live simply so that others might simply live' that would indeed be worth it.Even as we are caught up in the 'lifestyle problems' of our own societies, let us not lose sight of the far more severe challenges faced by people elsewhere. Zimbabwe is one example. Over a short period, that country has moved from the worst possible political and economic crisis to a grave situation in the health sector. In Zimbabwe's cholera-ravaged townships, the dying today make their final journeys home in wheelbarrows and pushcarts, turned away from clinics by nurses too overworked and underpaid to care much about who survives and who doesn't. Early this month, 71 year old Tarcisius Nerutanga was summoned to the clinic in the Budiriro township. There he found his 27 year old son, Allan, dumped on a wooden bench outside, racked with severe vomiting and diarrhea. 'They didn't say anything. They just said, "Take him home,"' Nerutanga said. He carried his son home where Allan died last Monday. The young man died grieving that his life was over before he could rescue his parents from their grinding poverty. Allan's mother Loveness sat on the concrete floor in their tiny room, weeping silently. She recalled: 'He just said, "Mom, we're a laughing stock. We die a laughing stock." ' "

This reminds me of a story a few years ago about two dozen illegal immigrants who died of suffocation locked in the truck that was smuggling them over the border from Mexico. As far as I know, a number of them were never identified. They suffered terribly and died nameless.

As we celebrate the birth of our Lord, we will surely want to remember how the Bible teaches us that God knows us each by name. Part of our calling this Christmas season is to raise our eyes above our own circumstances and reflect upon those who have no names or identities in society because of their extreme poverty and lack of resources. My husband and I are trying to raise our year-end contributions slightly in order to do our teeny bit to help take up some of the slack from those who have lost even more than we have. The photo on the cover of The New York Times yesterday must reach the consciousness of all but the most hardened: young boys squatting down at street level, their faces close to the pavement, trying to pick up a few kernels of corn spilled by a passing truck. Imagine it!

Muggles among us

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Floyd, Floyd Innovations LLC) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 09:46:14 PST

A few years ago I gave a lecture in which I floated the idea that Bishop Spong and his ardent followers (I wish I could sell as many books as he does) should be identified as Muggles. In case you have been in another galaxy for the last ten years, Muggles can be defined in simple terms as the characters in the Harry Potter series who do not believe in magic or wizardry. Extending the notion a bit, we could say that Muggles are unfortunate people who have no ear for poetry, no appreciation of metaphor, no capacity for imagining another dimension of reality. Maybe they didn’t have fairy tales or poems read to them when they were children. They probably don’t like art, theater, or literature either. There are a lot of people like this; it’s a sort of handicap, really, so let’s dial down the ridicule to a gentle level.

This complaint about Bishop Spong has been around for many years and does not originate with me, but I like the Muggle tag because it helps to make the point stick. Why is this important? Because the Bible asks to be read on more than one level. Spong and company are literalists—fundamentalists, really. If the Scripture says that Jesus went “up” to the Father, to them that means he went “up” like a rocket from Cape Canaveral and obviously that can’t be true, so we throw out the whole Ascension story. Etcetera. The idea that the biblical writers knew they were dealing with the transcendent dimension and were deliberately using figurative language seems beyond possibility for Muggles.

Now we have a new group of people to add to the list of Muggles, which confirms my earlier suspicions. The New York Times reports (October 13) that the best-selling atheist Richard Dawkins, author of The God Delusion, is writing a book for children that would explore children’s relationships with fairy tales and encourage them to think about the world scientifically rather then mythologically. Dr. Dawkins said, “I would like to know whether there is any evidence that bringing children up to believe in spells and wizards and things turning into other things—it is unscientific, I think it is anti-scientific.”

Take that, Lord of the Rings lovers! Dante, begone! Don’t clap for Tinkerbelle, you Neanderthals; Hamlet would probably be alive today if he had only taken Prozac.

Let's not lose "Behold!"

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Floyd, Floyd Innovations LLC) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 11:42:56 PST

Here in Toronto where I am teaching for a term, a fellow faculty member (Leslie Demson) who teaches Hebrew is in league with me to recover the English word "Behold" when reading Scripture. Most modern translations use "see" or "look" or even "here is" (as in Pilate's "here is the man" instead of the long-hallowed "Behold the man"-- ecce homo).

But "see" and "look" don't perform the same linguistic function. Marilyn McCord Adams has explained that there is one form of language for human agency, and another for divine agency. If preachers, readers, and teachers of Scripture don't understand this, we are impoverished. Prof. Demson says that "behold" is a revelatory word indicating a different order of reality. I say it is a word of wonder, a word of awe, a word that opens up another dimension. ("And lo!" serves the same function.)

So this Advent, let's say with Isaiah, "Behold your God!" (You don't have to give up your modern translation. Just say "behold" instead of "look.")

Why are they surprised?

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 06:52:11 PDT

According to a report from the Episcopal News Service in The Living Church, August 31, the Bishop of New York, Mark Sisk, and the Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, expressed surprise at the worldwide "lack of understanding" of the Episcopal Church in the United States.

"I was surprised at questions about basic theological tenets and whether we really believe them or not," Bishop Jefferts Schori said. "It's a reminder that even though we may think all Anglicans believe the basics of the faith, not everybody believes that we believe them."

Why would anyone think we believe the basics of the faith? For many decades now, the refrain from pulpits and in clergy conclaves has been wink-wink, nudge-nudge about "the basics of the faith"? I have a copy of a sermon that was delivered on Easter Day by a leading bishop, calling the entire Resurrection proclamation into question. Last November, when the churches traditionally read passages of judgment prior to Advent, I heard with my own ears a Yale Divinity School graduate say from the pulpit that judgment has no place in our faith, essentially repudiating the lessons that had just been read. We don't have to look at the "theses" of the ineffable Bishop Spong to find widespread undermining of the foundations throughout the church. The takeover of the churches by "liberal" theology has been so complete that few, whether in the hierarchy or in the pews, have even noticed. That's the real issue, not the argument about homosexuality which is a "presenting symptom," not the underlying problem.

Searching for the apostolic faith

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 06:33:33 PDT

Most Episcopalians, especially clergy, will testify that they are repeatedly being asked--whether at interdenominational gatherings or at cocktail parties--"What's going to happen to the Episcopal Church?" or "What's going to happen to the Anglican Communion?" These questions are not helpful. It's like asking who's going to win the Presidential election. Who knows?

What would be helpful would be questions about the issues involved. This would give us liberal- evangelical, postliberal, apostolic (or whatever we call ourselves) Christians a chance to weigh in on something other than homosexuality, schisms, acronymns, and the African bishops.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, actually steered in this direction a couple of weeks ago when he said, "We [need] a bit more of a structure...to give guidance on what would and would not be a grave and lasting divisive course of action by a local church. While at the moment the focus...is sexual ethics, it could just as well be pressure for a new baptismal formula or the abandonment of formal reference to the Nicene Creed...it could be the regular incorporation into liturgy of non-scriptural or even non-Christian material." Exactly. This is what's at stake. In parishes, seminaries, weddings, funerals, and diocesan events all over the country, these "regular incorporations" have been common for decades. It is ironic that the 1979 Prayer Book, so much vilified by traditionalists 30 years ago, looks positively conservative today. One wag said that we now need a Society for the Preservation of the 1979 Prayer Book (instead of the 1928).

A friend in the PCA lamented to me recently that his right-wing denomination was becoming more and more defined by cultural conservatism, less and less by Scriptural fidelity. So the problem exists at both ends of the spectrum, with the mainlines defined by political correctness and the conservative evangelicals by anti-abortion and the American flag (so to speak). The Wall Street Journal reported last week that, contrary to the wishful thinking of many, Rick Warren was nowhere near moving left; Warren himself says that the evangelical left is minuscule in numbers, a fact to which I can attest.

We desperately need an infusion of genuine Reformed theology, the sort that has never really taken root in America (as Dietrich Bonhoeffer lamented when he was in New York in 1938 )--truly radical, subversive theology that calls all our cultural commitments into question, and especially our religious ones. Dare we speak the name of Karl Barth?

Will the real Jesus please stand up?

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 19:46:54 PDT

To all of you out there who are wondering if orthodox Christology can survive all the attacks being made on it, there is hopeful news. A research project has been completed at the Center of Theological Inquiry in Princeton, and its findings will be published in Seeking The Identity of Jesus (Eerdmans will ship in late September).

Those who have not necessarily been following the "Jesus wars" may not be aware of the intensity of the struggle to keep a door open for the ancient creedal and conciliar affirmations about Jesus Christ. The widespread attacks on classic Christology coming from the "Jesus Seminar" and other sources have been so pervasive, and in many cases so deceptively attractive, that they have taken over much of the preaching and teaching of the mainline churches without anyone noticing.

In the church today, there are two distinct ways of speaking about Jesus. We can call them the Jesus kerygma and the Christ kerygma (the Greek word kerygma means proclamation or announcement but is principally used in a theological context to refer to the gospel message).

The Jesus kerygma is familiar to those who hear sermons in most of the mainline churches, because the habit nowadays is to preach every Sunday from the stories in the Synoptic Gospels. Each of these Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke) has a Christ kerygma, but one can easily miss it if sermons are focused essentially on such themes as Jesus' table fellowship with sinners, his welcoming of outcasts, his healings, his "inclusion" of women, his self-sacrificing style of life, and so forth. The effect has been to leave us with an impression of an extraordinary (but not necessarily unique) person who in some way reveals the love of God and inspires us to follow him in the practice of radical hospitality, willing service, embrace of the other. These are aspects of his ministry by no means to be downgraded, but when the high Christology of the Gospel of John and the Lordship of Christ in the epistles of Paul have gone missing, something less than the eternal Son of God is here.

Therefore it is very good news to hear of the Identity of Jesus Research Group. Beverley Roberts Gaventa of Princeton, co-chair of the group (together with Richard B. Hays of Duke) summarizes their conclusions in these words:

"The work of the project ranged across the biblical canon, church tradition, and contemporary Christian life, and no easy consensus has emerged. Yet the varying perspectives converged around the notion that historical investigation into the life of Jesus is necessary but not sufficient. While this group affirms the importance of historical work, especially work that situates Jesus in first-century Judaism, it differs from many recent approaches to Jesus in two ways:

"1) The group insists that Jesus is not reducible to what can be learned from historical research alone.
"2) The group contends that the Creeds of the Church are in continuity with the identity of Jesus as revealed in Scripture."

This should be of great comfort to us who wish to say wholeheartedly,

I believe (Credo) in God the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth…
And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord, eternally begotten of the Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, begotten, not made, of one substance with the Father…..

(The members of the Identity of Jesus Research Group are: Dale Allison, Gary Anderson, Markus Bockmuehl, Sarah Coakley, Brian Daley, A. Katherine Grieb, Robert Jenson, Joel Marcus, Walter Moberly, William Placher, Katherine Sonderegger, David Steinmetz, Marianne Meye Thompson, and Francis Watson. The group met in Princeton for three years, from 2003 to 2006.)

Are you absolutely certain, or fairly certain?

noreply@blogger.com (Fleming Rutledge) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 08:14:31 PDT

Peter Steinfels writes a "Beliefs" column every other week for The New York Times. It is always buried inside, below the fold, and is very difficult to find in the online edition. I am nevertheless encouraging a greater readership of this fine column, always of the highest quality, which has been appearing for at least 15 or 20 years. Steinfels is a Roman Catholic but very conversant with Protestantism.

This past Saturday he posed a question about faith and doubt. Acknowledging the difficulty of Christian faith in our era of irony and skepticism, he refers to a Pew Forum poll in which believers choose between "absolutely certain" and "fairly certain" of their beliefs. He wonders if the "fairly certain" might not hold a key to the future of the church in our time, continuing to attend worship and practice the faith in spite of doubts. My guess is that Steinfels himself might be in this category. He puts it this way:

"If it turned out that the answers of the 'fairly certain' came even close to those of the 'absolutely certain,' it would confirm the idea of a stable strata [sic] of deeply committed, actively practicing religious believers who have also integrated a significant degree of doubt and uncertainty into their faith."

Steinfels calls this the "steady-state hypothesis." As one who has tried to encourage this sort of churchmanship for as long as I can remember, I commend this way of being Christian to those who are not "absolutely certain." We need more "negative capability" (a phrase of John Keats') as a counterbalance to simplistic assertions. Tim Keller of Redeemer Presbyterian in NYC has been giving a series on the wisdom of the Proverbs, and he (following Gerhard von Rad's lead) is describing wisdom as insight into the complexities of life when there are no clear guidelines to follow. Amen.

Here is the link to the Steinfels piece:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/19/us/19beliefs.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

And here is a link to another column which I found helpful, about the controversy concering homosexuality:
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9800EFDC1739F93AA15757C0A9669C8B63

And finally, here is a nice one about Rowan Williams when he was first appointed, before Gene Robinson:
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9905EED9133AF936A25751C0A9659C8B63