The Little Friar

I observed in The Fire and the Rose that I don't preach universalism.  And for good reason.  The world needs to hear the judgment of Gospel -- that God, in Christ, is setting the world to rights, and that means some of the things we really do to one another (poverty, war, abuse, neglect, etc.) really aren't going to stand.  The Gospel is good news proclaimed to the poor, imprisoned, forgotten of the world.  But that good news, when heard from the vantage point of the oppressor, isn't good at all.  It's bad news.  The rich guy, to paraphrase Jesus, has the same chance getting into the Kingdom as the camel has getting through the eye of a needle.  It can happen -- with God, all things can -- but it's probably not going to be comfortable on either the camel or the rich guy. But what of predestination?  Why don't I -- and more generally, why won't other preachers -- preach the Gospel as it's proclaimed in Paul? When treated abstractly, as an explan...

Read part 3 here.

Read part 2 here .

Read part 1 here .

Some weeks ago, I wrote a series on my theology of preaching.  Now, to try the same thing with my theology of the eucharist.  Part 1 -- on the theology of food.

I spent the better part of my academic career studying Dietrich Bonhoeffer -- his theology in its context, with the hopes of articulating a peace-making theology for the twenty-first century.  I never intended that study to become pastorally relevant in our own historical context.  But it's proven to be. Today I made the claim that modern America looks nearly identical to Weimar Germany. For those who don't understand the comparison, first some background. The Weimar Republic was the short-lived experiment in German democracy between the great wars of the 20th century.  It emerged from Germany's loss in World War I, and was brought to a crashing end by the Nazi seizure of power in 1933.  The Weimar period was marked by political, economic, and social instability, and intense cultural creativity as well as decadence.  Weimar was time in which the center didn't hold, and extremism took over the imaginations of many Germans, especially the young. ...

I could (which you cannot) Find reasons fast enough To face the sky and roar In anger and despair At what is going on, Demanding that it name Whoever is to blame: The sky would only wait Till all my breath was gone And then reiterate As if I wasn't there That singular command I do not understand, Bless what there is for being , Which has to be obeyed, for What else am I made for, Agreeing or disagreeing? -- WH Auden, from his poem "Precious Five"

A friend recently -- and honestly -- asked on Facebook: "The question is not whether or not there is a god. The question is, why do we care?" I think his question deserves an honest Christian response -- which, sadly, would be more than a Facebook comment might allow.  So here goes. First, it's important to recognize something essential about atheism:   Christians, Jews, Muslims and atheists have one thing in common.  They don't believe in gods .   Indeed, Christians were atheists for the first 400 years .  For the Roman and Greek pagans, the Jews and the Christians of the first centuries were pagans.  They had no God whose name others recognized.  They were "without" gods.  Even now, we Christians may seem like atheists in the eyes of people of other religions. It's very important to recognize that when Christians use the word God , we're not describing merely the exemplary among a class of things.  God isn't the apex of pantheon...

I don't intend, in these thoughts, to assess the theological content of contemporary worship.  There's enough ink spilt over that, with very few real progresses made in making good observations. But, I intend, rather, to say a few things to make pastors and worship leaders reflect on what we're saying with the phrase "contemporary worship". "Contemporary worship" is first, and perhaps foremost, contemporary .  The age of music doesn't determine its quality -- I'm not enough of a snob to know that all worship music has to sound like Bach -- but I think that this criticism (normally leveled at contemporary worship) really misses the point.  It isn't about quality.  In a world peopled by advertisers and entertainers, "contemporary" is a hurrah word, a marketing tool, branding liturgical music that is fashionable, up-to-date, oozing youthful cool.  Contemporary is young, and young is good.  The desire to make worship more appeal...

What is the classroom?  It's a place where people come together and start to learn something.  Then, sometimes, they start to love what they are learning, and they are changed by that love.  Real work in the classroom is, therefore, transformative, in the way that love transforms the lover and the beloved. Really the teacher is a kind of midwife to love.  I can't force anybody to love the doctrine of the Trinity.  All I can do is help students to take a look at that doctrine for themselves.  I can challenge some of their prejudices and assumptions.  I can question some of their hasty conclusions.  I can help them to slow down a bit, just long enough to pay attention.  If they give this doctrine their attention, if they really start to look at it, then sometimes their hearts will respond spontaneously.  They might start to love what they see, and then to look even more closely, and to love even more. When this happens -- whe...

For the early Christians the ceremony of the breaking of bread -- the Eucharist -- was intimately connected with the sharing of bread. It was not a mere formalist ceremonial.  The Eucharist signified sharing. It also brought about what it signified.  The rite and the reality were intimately linked.  The symbol was for real.  They tried to practise what they professed.  We have seen how the early Christian groups shared what they had so that there was no one in need. For Jesus too the last supper, the first and inaugural Eucharist, was closely associated with his selfgiving.  He gave bread and wine saying "this is my body"; "this is my blood".  This was not merely a symbol, rite or ceremony.  He said that he was giving himself -- his life -- for his people.  He then gave a new commandment "love one another; as I have loved you, so you are to love one another. If there is this love among you, then all will know you are my disciples ..."  ...

The literary theorist Umberto Eco has a theory about readers.  Every text calls for an ideal reader .  The ideal reader of any given text is the person receptive of its content and formed to follow its patterns (see, The Role of the Reader, 1979 ).  In other words, the person who is willing to "see" as the text sees (this is how the world is) and then live accordingly is the ideal reader. Consider the following picture: That guy is not the ideal reader of Nazi propaganda.  He refuses to buy into the Nazi's picture of the world -- choosing not to "see" as they see.  And he won't live accordingly by offering his salute to Hitler and all that his regime stands for, despite the very obvious social pressure.  "Nope", you can hear him saying to himself. I think the task of the twenty-first century preacher to congregations has to be this:  "Be that guy".  Refuse to become the ideal reader of Nazi propaganda, and if you find that eas...

I've been thinking lately about the Church's call in the context of modern policing.  With the increased visibility and attention being paid to issues like militarization , systemic racism , and deadly force , how can Christians speak and act faithfully? My first instinct is to look towards those doing work on what is called "just policing", with scholars like Gerald Schlabach and Tobias Winright .  While I appreciate the contributions of these scholars, I have often wondered whether the questions being asked -- how we reform the criminal justice system, or create a just system -- are not built on assumptions which should be interrogated much further.  I think those are essentially Constantinian questions.  They also require an account of justice that must be (at least in part) abstracted from the work of Christ.  How much meaning does the word "just" lose when it's applied to a system that requires some degree of violence and domination...

I've finally had time to read and reflect on the so called Nashville Statement -- the statement that a hundred and fifty evangelical signatories signed their names to.  It seems to be their attempt to draw a line in the sand in regard to what they see as a pressing problem for the Church, and in particular, their evangelical church.  The problem for them, of course, is the progression and in-roads of the LGBTQ, homosexual gay agenda, as they see it transforming not only the body politic of culture in general, but its pressing into the church itself. But I have a main problem with it.   For me, the problem has more to do with these leaders' conception of how the Church ought to operate in regard to its witness to the Gospel in relation to the world at large.  As I see it, they are presuming upon an "us versus them" dynamic that the Gospel itself forbids; instead, the Gospel equalizes humanity (cf. Romans 3).  The Gospel as the Word of God in Jesus Christ...

The prophetic witness of Christians in the face of the State is muted, I think, by a serious misreading of Romans 13.  Particularly 13.1:  "Every person is to be in subjection to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those which exist are established by God".  I want to explore what it means to read Romans 13 in light of the rest of Scripture, in order to help us understand that we don't necessarily have to accept every line that proceeds out of a particular politician's mouth or every policy proposed by any certain politically reigning group. A caveat lector is probably in order here, though:  What you're about to read is the way I read Romans 13, which is informed by the way folks like Bonhoeffer and Barth read Romans 13 and resisted the Nazi German agenda.  It's the foundation of why I resist Donald Trump (and, before him, Obama and lots of other American politicians).  To let the cat out of the bag early:  ...

In the past prayer was able to bring down punishment, rout armies, withhold the blessing of rain. Now, however, the prayer of the just turns aside the whole anger of God, keeps vigil for its enemies, pleads for persecutors. Is it any wonder that it can call down water from heaven when it could obtain fire from heaven as well? Prayer is the one thing that can conquer God. But Christ has willed that it should work no evil, and has given it all power over good. Its only art is to call back the souls of the dead from the very journey into death, to give strength to the weak, to heal the sick, to exorcise the possessed, to open prison cells, to free the innocent from their chains. Prayer cleanses from sin, drives away temptations, stamps out persecutions, comforts the fainthearted, gives new strength to the courageous, brings travelers safely home, calms the waves, confounds robbers, feeds the poor, overrules the rich, lifts up the fallen, supports tho...

Why is God silent?  Because the tree of trust has silence for its roots. God moves in mysterious ways, but he also moves in quite pedestrian ways.  He walks and runs, hops and skips, leaps and jumps, sashays and dances.  But God never, ever marches. God gave himself into the hands of sinners on the cross, and God gives himself into the hands of sinners in the sacrament. God makes sense of things. In addition, God makes nonsense of things. Recent experiments have demonstrated that loud swearing not only boosts strength and stamina but also makes people more able to tolerate pain.  Perhaps an unprintable eighth word from the cross has gone missing? Thank God for Judas, our substitute:  Without betrayal, no salvation. I talk a lot about God’s mercy, but not nearly enough about God’s pity.  I have lately begun to pray more that God will pity me than that he will have mercy on me, because having his pity, surely I will receive his mercy. Think of someth...

What is the role of the theologian in the local church?  I think it's a question worth asking. There appears to be a recognition now in many ecclesial circles that it's important for Christians to think about their faith (though anti-intellectualism in the church is still a problem -- more on this tomorrow).  But I do believe that this a good theological practice.  But again, I ask:  What's the role of the theologian in the local church, the role of the person who's formally studied theology at university, who most likely went beyond an undergrad degree (or at least someone who doesn't sit on their undergrad theology degree and continues to read the latest releases by, say, Brueggeman or Webster)?  Is the theologian meant to be a gadfly, buzzing around the latest trends that infiltrate the popular mindset (e.g., does this mean everyone asks this person's opinion of things like The Shack when they appear)?  Is the theologian meant to lead worship, Bible s...

One of those remaining questions in Bonhoefferian scholarship is what Bonhoeffer meant in his Letters and Papers from Prison , toward the end of his life, when he wrote that Barth was unable to address the concerns of modern people.  Theologians like Rudolf Bultmann, Paul Tillich, and even Bonhoeffer concerned themselves with the question of how we can proclaim the gospel in an age that cares less and less about God, the church, or theology.  They searched in vain for an answer to this in Barth's works -- or, rather, they were disappointed with the answers they found .  Some years later, Barth had written a letter to Bethge, after the publication of the latter's magisterial biography of Bonhoeffer, asking Bethge what Bethge thought Bonhoeffer had meant in accusing Barth of a "positivism of revelation". The problem Bonhoefferian scholars have in appreciating Barth is that, if we take some of Barth's earliest writings alone, we can be left with the same impressio...

Today is the feast of the Baptism of Jesus.  It's a feast that holds great meaning for me, mainly due to the interpretation given to the Baptism of Jesus by St Cyril of Alexandria. Cyril is not exactly en vogue in the English speaking world, and hasn't been since the 19th century when Charles Kingsley's historical novel Hypatia, or New Foes with an Old Face laid the heinous death of the famous female philosopher, Hypatia, at the feet of Cyril of Alexandria.  Ever wonder why you don't find Cyril in the Nicene/Post Nicene Fathers collection of texts?  Many, myself included, think it is because of Kingsley's novel (an idea I picked up at Duke from David Steinmetz).  And negative depictions of Cyril continue. Cyril is also unpopular because of the perception that political concerns were primarily behind his vociferous attacks on Nestorius; a perception that, in my opinion, Henry Chadwick definitively debunked in 1951, but the perception continues unabated. The ...