Wednesday, September 17, 2008

After Ike ... my power is back on

Hi there

So it was a long weekend and into the week. I rode out the storm at home, and we did get hit pretty directly. No real damage unless you count tree branches and such. We got power back last night. Yes! And it was a nice surprise to find my internet service is also up.

My favorite things about our neighborhood having power back:
  1. Hot food
  2. Cold drinks
  3. Working lights
  4. Air conditioning
  5. Refrigerator
  6. Clothes washer/dryer
  7. Traffic signals
  8. Grocery stores with food
  9. Gas stations with gas
  10. Hot running water
I hope to get back into blogging soon. Missed y'all!

Take care & God bless
WF

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Remembering 9/11: Let's teach the terrorists a lesson

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God." -- Jesus

"Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.'" -- Jesus

"Pray like this: ... 'Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.' ... For unless you forgive those who sin against you, your Father in heaven will not forgive you." -- Jesus

The first command of the Law [in importance] is this: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength'; the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" -- Jesus

"All things whatsoever that you wish men would do for you, do this for them. For this is the Law and the Prophets." -- Jesus

"Be merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful. Judge not, and you shall not be judged; condemn not, and you shall not be condemned; forgive, and you shall be forgiven. ... With the same measure you use, it will be measured back to you." -- Jesus

"Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your father in heaven. For he makes the sun to rise on the evil and on the good; he makes the rain to fall on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love only those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even the worst sinners do that. If you greet only your brothers, what credit is that to you? Don't even the idolaters do that much? Be perfect, therefore, as your Father in heaven is perfect." -- Jesus



If we live this, then we'll have actually taught the terrorists a lesson.

Yes, I know, the sayings are paraphrased, and at places I have combined Luke's account and Matthew's account. What's the point of having more than one person's account of the same teachings unless we benefit from the knowledge of both?

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

If I were a 2nd century Christian ... and since I'm a 21st century Christian

Phil has posted the current patristic's carnival, and in it I found several interesting posts. I wanted to respond to one from Ecumenicity: If I were a 2nd century Christian. It is a thought experiment which begins:
Where would I have looked to know what to believe about the faith and the Gospel if I were alive as a Christian in the 2nd century of the Church?
It leads the reader through the author's thoughts:
Since properly ordained bishops held the truth, I would have believed about the faith and the Gospel what my local bishop taught me.
The author draws this conclusion:
In the 2nd century, I would have believed that our God loves us enough to give us shepherds on earth, easily identifiable, that we can follow with trust and confidence. I would have followed the local bishop's explication of the Gospel, and submitted myself to his God-given authority.

I start somewhere near where the author does, though I think by the time he has reached his conclusion, he and I have gone down different road. I hope to use this post to point out where we share the same road and where we take different roads.

I think, if I were a second-century Christian, I would learn from those who had been taught by the apostles, or their next-generation successors as available. The refrain from the early church is that the faithful could distinguish the right teachers of Christ from the wrong teachers of Christ by their knowledge of the apostles, especially those who had known Christ in person. Now it happened at times that someone taught something different; but the consensus of the churches founded by the apostles was enough to reliably distinguish teachings which were not in agreement with the apostles.

What made possible this second-century reliance on the consensus of the apostolic church? It was the fact that a consensus existed: there was unity among the apostolic churches. The great apostolic sees of Constantinople, Rome, Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem all spoke with one voice and one witness to Christ and his apostles. In those days when the apostolic churches throughout the world were in agreement, it was an easy thing to distinguish what the apostles had taught us of Christ, and what Christ had taught us of God.

The gold standard of the second century was this: what did the apostles teach? And the guarantor was the united consensus of the apostolic churches -- and a fair chance that the bishop had first-hand knowledge of one of the apostles in person in the earliest days of the church, or second-hand knowledge. As time passed, first the bishop's fairly direct and close knowledge of the apostles was lost. And unfortunately, over time the consensus among the apostolic churches fell apart as well. The apostolic churches maintained unity until Chalcedon where the first serious rift was introduced. They drifted apart further as the centuries progressed, so that by the year 1100 A.D. no more than one or two of those five ancient sees stood together, as it is to this day. I do wish I could look through the lens of the ancient united "one holy catholic and apostolic church" from the 2nd century, but that fellowship was broken before the year 500 A.D. That is one reason why I cannot take my answer "if I were a 2nd century Christian" and apply it to "since I am a 21st century Christian": the terrain has changed much since then, and changed in exactly the points that matter.

Fortunately, before the knowledge of the apostles faded and the consensus of the church fell apart, the church did recognize the writings left behind by the apostles, their companions, and their chroniclers. They set aside these books in a single volume and designated them as uniquely authoritative. They recognized these teachings as the teachings which had been their foundation. All the writings of the apostles, their companions, and their chroniclers were included -- even though a few writings may have been admitted under "benefit of the doubt" clauses of various types. That is another -- and likely the most important -- reason why I cannot take my answer "if I were a 2nd century Christian" and apply it to "since I am a 21st century Christian": when all these writings were collected, the united church recognized them as an authoritative means to know what Christ and the apostles taught.

The gold standard in the 2nd century was: what did the apostles -- the first witnesses to Christ -- teach? The gold standard in the 21st century is still the same: what did the apostles -- the first witnesses to Christ -- teach? But there have been significant changes since the second century, and a method which presumes a second-century environment will not get the best answer in an environment where precisely the relevant points in that environment have changed so substantially.

In the second century, meeting someone who had known an apostle was the most reliable way to answer that question: what did the apostles -- the first witnesses to Christ -- teach? In the twenty-first century, the New Testament is the most reliable way we have to answer that question: what did the apostles -- the first witnesses to Christ -- teach?

Friday, September 05, 2008

Call for Submissions: Christian Reconciliation Carnival #13

Jeff at Cross-Reference is graciously hosting the next Christian Reconciliation Carnival. His call for submissions is posted. For the topic of the month, he suggests the following:
I guess I'd be interested in hearing perspectives on what obstacles are presented by the varying liturgies (high/low, sacramental/non-sacramental, rubrical/freeform) and how they might be possible to overcome. I don't necessarily want to get too doctrinal (although the law of prayer and the law of belief go hand-in-hand, as far as Catholics are concerned). And the issue of liturgical reform would be open for discussion as well.

... since different groups of Christians believe different things, it is no small wonder that they also have different conceptions of liturgy, ranging from intensely liturgical (e.g. Orthodox, Catholic (esp. among those who adhere to the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite), and "high-church" Anglican) to the absolutely non-liturgical (e.g. the "organic" church described by Frank Viola and George Barna). I am also interested in the similarities found between certain elements of liturgies of certain Christian groups despite their theological differences surrounding those very elements.
Great topic! Let us know what you think.

Entries on subjects of general interest to Christian Reconciliation are accepted as always. Send in your submissions by 09/30/2008 to the dedicated email address. If you go to Jeff's announcement he also has a direct link to his own email, if you'd rather send it to him directly. Mark your calendars for the Carnival and send in your thoughts on Christian reconciliation.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

What is the sin of "adultery in the heart"?

Dr. P. linked to an interesting article by a former student of his, written on the topic of understanding Matthew 5:28. He makes a case that the better translation is not "whoever looks on a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart", but "whoever looks on a woman to lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart". The point of this exegetical move is first of all its intended accuracy to what Jesus said, and second to remove the burden (if it can be legitimately removed) of what Jimmy Carter once called the "almost impossible standards" set there, that we can stumble into sin but not deliberately. The post also discusses whether being tempted is, in itself, a sin.

I am not here taking exception with the translation issue, but I do take issue with the exegesis and theology. I do not think we can say that, in "looking on someone to lust", that the lust is blameless so long as it was not in the original intention when we looked. No doubt that having the original intention of lust and that driving the looking -- as in pornography -- is a deliberate sin. But Scripture has never limited sins to deliberate sins. The post makes the point that being tempted cannot be inherently sinful since Jesus was tempted. But this skips over the nature of temptation: that a temptation in this fallen world is a situation-specific pressure that leads to sin when it meets with an internal corruption in our nature or character and successfully rouses desire for what is wrong. Jesus did not have the corruption of nature or character, and being tempted was not sinful because the external pressure to sin is not sinful. However, when we are tempted it simply demonstrates that we already have the tendency to sin. As one of the ancient Christian writers has said, "How well I know: temptation came because I wanted it."

I think we have to acknowledge that Jesus teaches that not only should we not set out to lust and that the intention is wrong, but also that lust itself is wrong whether we intended it or not. Lust is a form of coveting, which is wrong in and of itself; lack of intent does not remove the sinfulness of the wrong desires in our hearts.

Some people are pained that Jesus set some "almost impossible standards" for us. I think this is entirely understated. Jesus has set some impossible standards for us, and told us: "With man, this is impossible; with God all things are possible." If someone has an instinct to justify himself by keeping the law, he will be driven to despair by commands like loving our enemies, not lusting, and not coveting. This is a healthy thing, and the healthy response is not to blunt the force of the law, but to use that force of the law to accuse and convict the evil inside us, condemning our wrong desires and nailing them to the cross.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

From Monty Python to Mother Theresa ...

I enjoyed the spin which Ben Myers put on Rowan Williams' performance as Archbishop of Canterbury. The Anglican communion has had a few internal conflicts lately, in case anyone hasn't been tracking the news. I'm not sure of Ben's sense of humor but I expect that Ben didn't mean this piece as satire. But all the while reading it, the pro-Williams passages struck me as very much what the opponents of the Archbishop would say, but with a tone of dry irony in their voices. Here's an example:
Williams’ role as Archbishop of Canterbury in recent years illustrates precisely this dialectic of kenosis and apocalypse. As a churchman, he combines an uncompromisingly rigorous commitment to the truth of doctrinal orthodoxy with an absolute refusal to grasp the truth as a possession or to wield it as an instrument of power. Indeed, the most striking thing about Williams’ conduct as Archbishop of Canterbury is his willingness to fail, his refusal to pursue any ideal of ecclesial ‘success’ in abstraction from the church’s spiritual identity as a community defined by weakness, fragility and self-dispossession.

This rejection of the idolatrous notion of a ‘successful’ church, this willingness to fail, is at the same time a profoundly apocalyptic gesture ...

I could nearly hear Monty Python whispering in my ear as I read. What Ben says is only an inch or two away from what some of Williams' opponents say: that he has the truth but refuses to do anything with it, that the church could hardly be more fragile if he were pursuing fragility as a conscious goal, and that the result has been a broad failure which bothers the Archbishop not at all, though it may have apocalpytic results, at least for the future of that communion.

So perhaps the two sides of the Anglican communion aren't as far apart as they appear at first glance. Ben Myers nearly persuades me that the Anglican communion has an essentially unified vision of their leadership; they merely diverge in their assessments of that vision.

I have to say I speak as an outsider: the only knowledge I have of the internal conflicts of the Anglican communion are those by partisans on either side of the current debates. So my thoughts here cannot be about Williams himself so much as the Williams I see reflected from others' portrayals. In Ben Myers' portrayal of Williams, I see a church leader who does in fact have a view of a "successful" church: it is a church that is fragile, and this is the ideal of success that is pursued.

Which just puts me in modern parable mode: Two men each had a sack lunch. They both decided to deny themselves (starting with their lunches), take up their crosses, and follow Jesus. One threw his lunch in the trash. The other gave his lunch to a homeless fellow. They both succeeded in denying themselves; they both succeeded in having no lunch. One measured success by the failure to have lunch; the other measured success by blessing someone else along the way. Which was more Christlike?

All that is just a way of asking: is the church's spiritual identity really a community defined by weakness, fragility, and self-dispossession, or is it defined by following Christ? If we desire weakness, fragility, and self-dispossession, even these ascetic-nouveau achievements are useless to us without Christ. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you."

Which is to say, I have no problem with a church being willing to fail if they have a concrete plan of blessing someone else, if sacrifice is the way to achieve that blessing as an act of love. I have no problem with a church "failing" through persecution if she holds her eyes on Jesus and is killed by the hateful. However, being willing to fail because failure is seen as a higher sort of success does not seem an improvement over -- or even a removal from -- the idolatry of "successful church". Instead, it redefines success by the simple expedient of setting different goals. Wasn't it Mother Theresa who said that we're not called to be successful, but we're called to be faithful? We are called to take up our cross following Jesus; but lots of people took up crosses without following Jesus, and gained nothing by their weakness, fragility, and self-dispossesion. If we're not following Christ, then lack of success is no more sign of faithfulness than success. Regardless of whether Williams is rightly seen as failing at success or succeeding at failure, it remains for the Anglican communion to figure out where Christ is in their view of things and how to follow him faithfully.

All my best to Ben Myers, Rowan Williams, and the Anglican communion.

Christ and the Law

"You have heard that it was said ... but I say to you." -- Jesus, on the ancient law of Israel; Sermon on the Mount.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus time and again starts with the ancient law of Israel, and goes beyond it. He calls us to righteousness that "surpasses that of the Scribes and the Pharisees", who kept the ancient law meticulously. "But their hearts are far from me," he says of us when we keep the letter of the law in cold hearts.

Some have looked at Jesus' comments on the ancient law and have said, "he is following the ancient Jewish tradition of putting a hedge around the law." In that strain of Jewish thought, if the Law said not to eat an animal cooked in the milk of its own mother, they would not even eat meat and dairy in the same meal to avoid any chance of breaking that law. A hedge would be built of laws of men forbidding things that might be innocent, and these innocent things were forbidden to keep people even further away from what the law opposed.

This, I think, is exactly what Jesus was not doing. "Their heart is far from me," he took up the prophet's refrain. "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not kill', but I say to you that whosoever is angry with his brother without cause is in danger. You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery', but I say to you that whoever looks on a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart." Here Jesus does not follow the human precept of creating a hedge around the law and forbidding innocent things. Instead, here he brings the law of God to bear even on our hearts, not forbidding innocent actions but forbidding guilty desires. He writes the commandments of God on our hearts.

Matthew shows Jesus summing up the entirety of the law twice: first as doing unto others what we would have them do unto us; next as loving God with all our heart, soul, and mind, and loving our neighbor as ourselves. The prophecy of Jeremiah shows that in the days of the Messiah, the law of the new covenant is to be written on our hearts. "Create in me a clean heart, O God" has always been the prayer of the faithful.