The Little Friar

Teaching theology classes is some of the most exhilarating things I've ever had the joy of doing.  And teaching Trinity and Christology are why  that's true.   In teaching Christology, I always draw together what I call my "12 grammatical rules".   I mention them here today because much of what I've been reading lately -- on preaching -- has had so much to contribute to thinking about Christian speech, that I think these bear repeating for pastors on occasion.  (This post is really Karl Barth's "fault", since I just finished Dogmatics in Outline  again this month.) Each of these rules are offered here in both a negative and a positive affirmation.  The negative addresses temptations of Christian speaking that don't speak of Jesus Christ biblically.  These are temptations of preaching that preachers must avoid.  The positive is the simple message of the Good News we proclaim.  1.   Not to speak of Christ in any way that sidelines his...

I'm all the time lamenting that dogmatic theologians and biblical theologians rarely talk to one another, much less do their respective work informed by the other.  That's a tragedy, really.   Because any dogmatic theology is, at its heart, hermeneutical.  That is, it interprets the Gospel.  Which is another way of saying that theology means to give meaning and content to the word "God".   The Gospel is, quite simply, an explication of the word "God".  The Gospel narrates the story of Jesus as the story of God's act.  It narrates the history of Jesus as the history of God's own being.  To put it rather bluntly, we might say that the Gospel  defines  God -- it defines God as the event that happened in the history of Jesus .  A certain Jewish man named Jesus lived for others, was executed, and was raised to life:  This is the Christian definition of God. It's always been the responsibility of Christian faith to explain the word ...

To be human is to be contingent . This comes first because it's ontologically obvious to me, as well as deeply problematic (read the Existentialists).  One way or another, we all know  we're not necessary, that our lives are hardly made by "our choice".  Whether life is a fast ball we're thrown or a slider into home plate largely depends on our faith -- the trust we place on the world outside ourselves.  That's the difference between a Kierkegaard and a Camus.  Because we live with the knowledge of our contingency.  Me?  I think we're gifts of God -- each and every one of us -- who are meant to live as gifts in the lives of others, doing all the things gifts do (like bringing smiles to faces, hopeful expectation, joyful exasperation, etc.).  We act like we're self-made, self-cause, indispensable, independent, as though our non-existence is inconceivable.  It isn't.  We act, in other words, like God; which is why we are, at our hearts and...

I am called to the ministry of the Church through my baptism.  I am trained and ordained to the ministry of "elder" or "presbyter" or "priest", and my service has largely taken place in rural churches.   God has called me to be one who reminds others of the ministry to which they are called through their baptismal vows.  Which is to say, ministry is messy.  The Church is always engaging in Jesus' continuing ministry, or it's not Church.  Preaching always focuses on the Incarnate Word, or it's entertainment.  Christian life is Jesus' missional life, or it's dead.  Ministry is the result of well-trained Christians, and is conducted out of our baptismal identity.  Or it's mere care-giving.  That's why ordained ministry terrifies  me.  It would be so much easier if I weren't called to work for the Kingdom of God.  God won't let me off so easy.  I'm firmly convinced that the reason clergy often "burn out" is bec...

Simone Weil once said that "if the gospel omitted all mention of Christ's resurrection, faith would be easier for me".  What could this brilliant, saintly, mystical French philosopher have possibly meant by such a provocative statement? I think that Weil was challenging the common but shallow assumption that the resurrection makes life easier for those who believe.  It doesn't.   After all, the disciples were completely wrong-footed by the events of Easter, and their reactions to the news that "He is risen!" suggest disturbance and disorientation, not confirmation and relief.  They were like the walking wounded after an explosion, and their subsequent witness was as overwhelmed as it was overwhelming.  That's why those courtroom-inspired "proofs" of the resurrection -- like those of Evidence that Demands a Verdict -- are so misconceived and insipid.  They not only fail to resolve the insurmountable literary and historical problems of the gospel...

It's Good Friday.  And a lot of us will be reading and hearing Isaiah 53 today.   Isaiah 53, the suffering servant text, is filled with images that have captivated the Christian imagination for millennia, specifically verses 3-6: He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. Today is Good Friday and we all know that the church has used this text to interpret the crucifixion of Jesus.  Isaiah 53 has come to be an important text for atonement ...

I blog here.  A lot.  We've arrived at  Laetare Sunday in Lent.  It's also called Refreshment Sunday.  In the middle of Lent, Laetere Sunday is the Sunday in the midst of all our reflection and penitence when we focus on the joys of following Jesus.  So this blog, today, is meant not only to offer some of what I'm thinking about this Lent (I gave up gossiping and judgmentalism, after all, and took up the disciplines of humility), but also to reflect of the one joy that brings comfort to me these days.  I preach and teach and write and counsel.  A lot.  My vocation as a minister in the Church is at the very heart of who I am.  But in all my writing, preaching and teaching and counseling.  In all my praying and reflecting.  It all -- everything!  -- comes down to one thing.   None of it is about me.  It's not about me.  It's about him.  It's about Jesus.  That's all I've ever wanted to say as a minis...

Gustaf Aulen's  Christus Victor , first published in 1931, has influenced the way generations of students think about Christ's death.  According to Aulen's typology, there are three main types of atonement theory:  (1) the "classical" ransom theory, according to which God used Jesus as bait to rescue humanity from subjugation to the devil; (2) the "objective" satisfaction theory, according to which Jesus' death satisfies the demands of God's honour or justice; and (3) the "subjective" moral influence theory, according to which Jesus' obedient death has an exemplary moral power that can be imitated by others.  I do not believe Aulen's typology is a reliable guide to the Christian tradition.  Some comments on each of his three types:  (1) His first category -- intended to represent patristic thought -- is a real muddle.  The importance it gives to the role of the devil is very misleading.  The image of Jesus as bait on a hook has ...