What do you think?

Well, this past Sunday I preached on reconciliation. I told the story of Miroslav and his family sharing a common meal with a person who only came to their church to celebrate communion. I said that reconciliation was the embrace, the befriending of an enemy (perhaps once a friend, now an enemy, too). Reconciliation, however, takes two people, and may not be possible. One person may not "own" the wrong they have done, perhaps not admitting a breach in relationship and refusing to engage in repentance.

Afterwards, one woman, a married mother of one, asked about the application in the real life situation of her family. How does one love, she asked, when a former sexual offender is now brought back into her family? How does one love, she asked, when they have hosted a homeless person for meals, but she cannot shake the feeling that he intends harm to her family? That is almost verbatim her question--a profound one; one that shows the depth to which she takes seriously her faith.

Believing that God speaks in the wisdom of his people in dialogue as they seek his Spirit, I would like to hear different thoughts on the situation where hopefully God's wisdom and gospel can shine in the darkness of this penetrating question.

VHC 9: Church as Community of Hospitality

This second last chapter, along with Ch 10, forms section three: The Public Face of Hospitality. Here Boersma appeals for the church to be the "primary place where reconciliation takes shape and as the place where the atonement--accomplished in principle and decisively through the recapitulation or representation of Israel in the historical figure of Jesus Christ--finds its focus and [purpose]" (205-06). The church accomplishes the hospitality of Jesus by "focusing on the Word of God, on the sacraments, and on the Church's suffering" (207). He first offers a caution that while the church is central, it is not a monopoloy; while it is Christ's representative, it does not fully contain Christ.

First, the Church must move beyond the emphasis of forgiveness--as it is played out in emotional and individualizing ways. Rather, the Church must embody true hospitality which does not raise impermeable boundaries. Boersma calls this evangelical hospitality the hospitality of the preached word. Just as the word is taken throughout the world for all to hear, so is its hospitality extended to those who hear it.

Second, Boersma discusses baptismal hospitality. "Baptism is the sacrament through which one enters into the Church and is united to Jesus Christ" (212). Boersma stresses the close nature of conversion and baptism, of membership to Christ and membership to his Church. Baptism, then, for it to be hospitable, must recognize the baptism of other denominations (if they are baptizing into Christ); and must extend the call to be hospitable.

Third, Boersma discusses eucharistic hospitality, which expresses hospitality better than preaching and baptism. Boersma is not simply discussing the eucharist as accepting fellow believers, but as God's gracious invitation to his banquet. God's invitation breaks the natural work of human invitation. He highlights God's invitations in the gospel accounts of the many unexpected people.

Fourth, Boersma defends penance as an act of hospitality. Boersma says that penance is an act of hospitality because "[w]ithout penance our sins exclude us from the community of reconciliation and turn us into strangers exiled from home" (224). Boersma says that "forgiveness without penance means hospitality without boundaries." Penance is the act in which one takes seriously their own sin--not in order to atone for it, but to seek the transformation of God to correct it. Boersma quotes Barbara Brown Taylor, then, who says that penance "is not for the purpose of inflicting pain but for...changing lives by restoring relationships" (228). (O'Donovan might say that penance is the church's judicial suggestion (not judgment!) to establish the context in which relationship can be restored.)

Finally, Boersma argues against understanding suffering in a manner of theodicy. Suffering can be redemptive and comes about in the specific instances of life in engaging in the imitation of Christ. Suffering in the exercise of hospitality, then, is meaningful insofar as it reflects and participates in God's hospitality in the suffering of Christ.

plus ca change...

A couple of links to Peter Leithart deserve mentioning: This one talks about the impossiblity that postmodernism can break with modernism. This one talks about the inevitably relative nature of (at least some) truth. (To give a little context when Leithart mentions "Lessing's ditch" he means the break between faith and history. Any statement of history, so the argument goes, cannot be a universal truth for humanity.)

Leithart seems to succeed in taking the strengths of both positions, while ignoring the way they frame the discussion. I am tempted to put him among the tradition of Thomas Reid and "common sense" philosophers. His style leads in this direction. I suppose one way to say would be that Leithart believes in Truth; he believes in truth; and he believes that things that once were true are no longer. When one thinks about it, well, of course that is the case!

VHC 8: Atonement, Violence, and Victory

In this chapter, Boersma puts Christus Victor, recapitulation, and representation all together. He summarizes by saying, "Christ's obedient life and his teaching, as well as his representative punishment on the cross, are what constitute the battle against Satan. It is by these means that Christ brings about victory" (181-82).

Boersma starts by summarizing Aulen's Christus Victor motif. By overemphasizing the role of Incarnation in atonement, though, Boersma (through Eugene Fairweather) says that Aulen does not take seriously our being reconciled to God (as opposed simply to God's reconciliation to us). "Hospitality is not true hospitality if it does not leave room for the genuine acceptance and participation on the part of the guest" (185). Boersma also criticizes Aulen for emphasizing only the Christus Victor theme, neglecting both punishment and moral influence theories. But it still holds value.

This value is seen when connected with Irenaeus' recapitulation theory. Irenaeus emphasizes other elements of atonement in recapitulation, giving himself more resoureces to do atonement theology, and also emphasizes human obedience in atonement.

Taking a look at Gregory of Nyssa, then, Boersma addresses the ransom theory and its connection with Christus Victor. In this light, humans are not perpetrators of violence, but victims of Satan's wiles. This means that humans must be bought back from slavery, which is accomplished in Jesus. Jesus is victorious, however, because God tricked Satan by hiding Christ's divinity.

Pointing out the resurrection of Christus Victor in contemporary works, Boersma critiques J. Denny Weaver and Kathleen Darby Ray and their respective uses of Christus Victor. Both advocate non-violence, which Boersma critiques. Weaver, on the one hand, says Christus Victor is the non-violent means of God's victory, but denies any strong connection between the cross and God's intent. Ray, on the other hand, justifies God's use of deceit in tricking Satan by saying it's a form of non-violence and thereby justifiable. To the contrary, says Boersma, God's intention was the cross and divine deceit is properly condemned. Boersma concludes, instead, that Christus Victor need not lead to more violence, but should be construed as divine hospitality. Its expression of Christ's victory won by obedience and vicarious suffering is how he is enthroned as King. The violence found in the cross, then, is to lead to the eschatological hospitality of God. How does such hospitality (and violence) get lived out in today's church? This is the question of the last two chapters.

Where's the tyranny?

Here is a link to a speech by N.T. Wright to the British House of Lords. (I believe I referenced something similar a while ago with little response, but I'll try it again.) It deals with the "change of moral climate" facing Britain's legislative body. (Canada failed in its first such facing of moral climate change, historical hubris, and governmental tyranny by passing same-sex legislation. For the record, the issue is not about sexuality; the issue is about the whims of government and their desire to create a people in its image. Insightful homosexuals would realize that such precedence does not bode well for the progress of same-sex marriage because whims of gov't change. True progress for any position (including a religion) cannot be legislated. Anyway....)

The issue Wright brings up is freedom of speech and coupling it with responsibility. He cites the issue of hate-speech regarding sexuality, but accurately broadens it to all thought-crime. Change in moral climate to raise hurt-feelings to a chargeable offense has brought about tyranny; perhaps my good debating partner from seminary, James (aka Jacques), would call it "The tyranny of the offended."

Anyway, I'm anxious to hear some thoughts. Perhaps some of the apologists would take issue with his rejection of Enlightenment thought. Perhaps the pomos will hate the fact that he wants to engage in constructive dialogue. Perhaps the Mennos will hate the fact that he's in the House of Lords to begin with! :)

VHC 7: Hospitality, Punishment, and the Atonement

Don't penal theories reduce atonement to strict contracts of exchange? This is the main question that Boersma seeks to address in ch. 7. Alternatively, he focuses on penal representation as the moment of divine hospitality. This involves two critiques: First, a critique of those who consider the penal substitution model as inherently tied to the Church-state relationship of the fourth century; second, his own critique of penal substitution in some tendencies of Western atonement theology ("juridicizing, individualizing, and de-historicizing" (154)). He argues that hospitality requires violence; therefore the cross' hospitality requires violence; and that beyond rational argument, the eschatological reality of God's pure hospitality shows this, as well. (For clarity, Boersma believes Anselm's work is best described as satisfaction, but also includes under its umbrella sacrifice, vicarious suffering, punishment, and propitiation (158)).

First, Boersma takes on the challenge that Anselm begins the talk of substitution, which was absent from the early church, only emerging in Constantinian Christendom. This model made salvation a legal transaction rather than transformation; an individual matter rather than social and systemic; and left it de-historicized rather than tied to the biblical narrative (155). While Boersma upholds these critiques himself in some versions of substitution in Western theology, he notes the historical errors found therein. First, why does it take 700 years for this atonement theology to get worked out in Anselm if Constantinian Christendom is what gives birth to it? Second, the councils of the time (Nicea and Chalcedon, to which some tie the notion of substitution) had Arian opponents--who were more friendly to the government than Athanasius, etc. whose work retained orthodox teaching.

Second, Boersma notes elements of substitution in the early church. He offers quotes from Gregory of Nazianzus (325-389), showing that while substitution does not stand on its own in early thought, it is present. He also notes an underlying theology in Irenaeus which assumes propitiation, although it does not mention it explicitly (e.g., the place that Christ takes in the New Covenant against the false notion that OT sacrifices can propitiate God).

Boersma is careful to holds two tensions throughout the discussion: Punishment in atonement theology has but need not lead to unnecessary violence; punishment cannot be the only understanding of atonement.

His own critical work of penal substitution begins with the radical wing of Augustinian theology which he sees as covenant/federal theology. This emphasized God's eternal decrees rather than historical covenant, leaving atonement a strict juridical act, meaning Christ's act could have taken place at any point in human history. Influenced by the New Perspective on Paul, however, Boersma reclaims what he sees as the historical and accurate covenantal notions of atonement. Recall Boersma's earlier talk of recapitulation which includes punishment. He then concludes, "The cross is not simply an arbitrary divine punishment inflicted on God's Son, a punishment that could have taken place at any time and in any place, but is a historically dated expression of God's hospitality, accompanied by the type of violence (punishment) without which such hospitality cannot materialize" (171).

Boersma then offers exegesis of Paul (esp. Galatians) to show the nature of God's election of Abraham. Israel was meant to be governed by hospitality and punished (as a last resort in exile) only in order to be redeemed and to encourage repentance. The cross mirrors this hospitality of punishment in order to reconcile and recapitulates the exile of Israel. Those who now bear the marks of faith (as opposed to the marks of the works of the law) are part of the community God promised to raise up through Abraham. The resurrection requires the new community of God to display his hospitality, but not pure hospitality. Pure hospitality would crush the very identity of those who bear the marks of faith. Our welcome of the stranger, then, will include some form of violence.

(Interestingly, Boersma sees penal substitution as possibly leading to violence against the believer. The extent to which Christ suffered violence as punishment may open the doors of the believer too widely who may let in another violent actor. God's violence, then, is not a "bloodthirsty" violence against his Son, but the violence of divine suffering (178, n. 81). From this position, Boersma keeps looking at more atonement models.)

The Author of Life and the death of the author

A tenet of postmodern hermeneutics is that the author is dead. This means that the author "loses control" ot the text they have written and it is open to interpretation. The reader can interpret the text in light of their experience of the text, without the author saying they have interpreted incorrectly.

It seems to me that this is too big a stride, but it is in the right direction. The creation of anything--including texts (and there are things besides texts)--is never ex nihilo. It is always from somewhere. This "somewhere" is not completely open or known to the author and so the text (or whatever else) is beyond their control; it is bigger than they are.

The grand context of creation, however, is one of redemption and resurrection and the grand agent in this creation is God. God is the author telling a continued story by his Spirit. Were the author still alive and in control of the text, any text would fall under their tyranny. Now (as always), however, the true Author is able to shape and form interpretation to fit the context of the world's redemption. Perhaps an open hermeneutic like the death of the author creates is even more open to the Spirit.

VHC 6: Atonement and Mimetic Violence

In Chapter 6 Boersma addresses Rene Girard's anthropology. Let me over-simplifying Girard's impressive work by summing it up here: Human rivalry about objects of desire is the start of religion and culture (133). (This must shape our understanding of the atonement.) This desire comes because another already desires the object (135). The frequent example if the child who desires a toy only when another child picks it up. This battle of desires is mirrored by another and the process snowballs. The unrest created by this snowballing violence is then passed from the community onto the "scapegoat" who bears responsibility for the violent state of affairs. By expelling the scapegoat, the community feels it has dealt with evil. "Ironically, the scapegoat mechanism works" (137). Once the violence is vented, there is peace and harmony in the community. But this peace is obviously the result of the scapegoat, and so they are divinized because "only a god could have brought an end to their troubles..." (137). So, violence is the root of culture; myths are told about the genesis of culture from the perspective of the murderer; finally, religions create boundaries to keep the mimetic violence within control. So, these religious rituals, stories, and rules "ensure the peace of the community" (138).

Girard's metanarrative shows its modernity. He sees the punitive justice system as a form of mimetic violence, and points the irony that in this system cultures find their peace. The secularization of of rituals and "disappearance of religious rituals" have succeeded in suppressing violence. But Christianity, not just secularization, has also influenced Western culture which has flourished democracy because (?) of its equality and concern for victims (139). The only victims left, says Girard, are Christianity and its Scriptures: because they have unmasked violence, they are found responsible for its origin (serving as scapegoat).

Boersma asks whether the critics who implicate Christianity with violence are wrong. Girard's atonement work says that Christ unmasks the violence of the mob for what it is. Jesus becomes the scapegoat for the violent mob. Removing God from the violence of the cross leaves Girard in a Marcionitic pickle. He has a tough time showing connectiong between the Old and New Testaments. Girard does, however, cite Cain/Abel and Joseph as stories where the victim was chosen rather than oppressor. But his difficulties with Deuteronomic election and sacrificial system remain (140). Girard, then, focuses on the gospels. He points out how Jesus is different from the typical scapegoat, while admitting similarities (transference of violence, divinization of the victim): First, Jesus is never demonized as the guilty one by Christians; second, it is a rebellious minority that crucifies Jesus (not the majority). Jesus' submission to the mob's violence reveals the structure of true religion: flowing from peace rather than violence (141). The cross saves, then, because it breaks the cycle of mimetic violence, not because of God's love (MIT). Girard does not merely emphasize cross, however, but cross and resurrection: without resurrection, the reversal of violence is impossible to imagine.

Boersma's main critique of Girard is via John Milbank. Does the world truly have a fundamental ontology violence? Does Christ not create culture? Girard's emphasis on violence leading to culture falls short of the Christian doctrine of creation. In spite of elements of Christus Victor in Girard which Boersma appreciates, he cannot follow Girard in saying that God does not need to be reconciled to humanity and that humans need to recognize the violence of culture and be reconciled to one another and to God. Boersma sees penal representation as essential to God's eschatological peace and calls for the church to mirror such violence (recall his def'n of violence) in order to stem violence against victims and the oppressed.

apocalyptic preaching

i am reading a book called "Everyday Apocalypse" by david dark. it's funny in parts and i like it. the first chapter talks a bit about the pathetic excuse for apocalyptic language in what he calls "its-hard-to-be-me" music. funny. he says that apocalyptic must be less controlled by the author, quoting tolkien who says that allegory is domination by the author, whereas apocalyptic is not to parallel reality, but to shatter "reality."

combo this with my reading of Revelation for a Sunday night series i'm doing at my church. i wonder if john the seer just started writing one day and out came this beautiful message of comfort to those facing persecution? the work's repletion of OT references suggest to me no; but, then again, if john is conditioned well, then these references might simply be "natural."

either way, it leaves me wondering what i perceive incorrectly. what harlots do i weep for? what beastly marks are on my hands? what would john the seer see today? what letter would he write? what sermon would he preach?

in doing my own research for this class (and in teaching it), it is becoming increasingly obvious that i don't know how to read apocalyptic literature. i mean, i know a little about interpreting Revelation, but i don't know how to see this world apocalyptically. if i can't read it, then i can't preach it. i suppose it starts with ears to hear...and how will i hear without a preacher?

VHC 5: Model Hospitality

Chapter 5 is Boersma's effort to address the moral influence theory (MIT) of atonement and its connection to hospitality. In this atonement model, Jesus is exemplary in his teaching of what true love is and how it is modeled. God's hospitality and not his violence come to center stage here. The reason the imitation of Christ is essential to atonement is because "[atonement]...remains a forensic fiction unless it receives a subjective telos in the lives of Christians today" (116).

Does this mean that violence has no place in atonement? No. "As soon as a [MIT of atonement] introduces any divine purpose at all into the crucifixion, an element of violence or exclusion is introduced into our understanding of the cross" (117). This is because (and here Boersma quotes J. Denny Weaver) if the death of Christ is salvific, then it is intended by God; if intended, then God sends his son to die and is thereby implicated in the violence. The MIT only avoids God's involvement in violence if it says that God does not use the death of Christ as a redemptive act. From here, Boersma addresses the feminist critique against self-sacrifice and its encouragement for the victim to continue suffering by saying these claims are exaggerated, but admits their point--stressing again the weakness of absolute hospitality. The victim is not to suffer incessantly when modeling God's hospitatility. For this reason, the MIT cannot be the only atonement model used as it might perpetuate violence in extreme self-sacrifice.

Boersma then turns to see how the MIT might be used appropriately. Dealing with Irenaeus, Boersma says that recapitulation has three roles: prophetic (MIT), priestly (representative punishment), and royal (Christus Victor). Recapitulation says that Christ takes the place of all humanity in his life. In this way, our fellowship with Christ makes us sons and daughters of God. For this to happen, the incarnation was necessary, but insufficient (123-24). In his incarnate form, Christ's obedience against Satan's temptation forms how Christ gains the victory (124).

This victory of Christ is to be passed on: there is a subjective element to atonement. So, Christ becomes the teacher of true humanity. Further, because Irenaeus is fighting the Gnostic heresy, obedience and action must be public--and not merely inward and spiritual (127). Christ's obedience and our following and learning from him defeats Satan and makes atonement effective for the believer. This is undoubtedly synergistic thinking and highlights the freedom involved for the believer in the atonement. God's work is not solely one-sided, but involves response. Imitation of Christ, modeling divine hospitality, then, may involve suffering and violence, but always for faithfulness to the gospel, not for suffering's own sake (132).

The Dawn of a New Day?

I've been reading Marva Dawn's "Talking the Walk," which is about reclaiming Christian language. It's very simple--deceptively so. I found myself growing a little frustrated by the book's taking so many theological and biblical discussions for granted and moving from there. Then I reconsidered the book's introduction. This is not a book about theology; it is a book about God. Theology is complex, involved, old, conditioned, and fascinating. God is simple, reachable, fresh, unconditional, and beautiful. Dawn is not writing as a trained New Testament theologian here (which she is), but as a believer who happens to be a NT theologian. There is a significant difference. Reading the book in this light removes my frustration, lets me read less guardedly, and simply enjoy the edification.

In light of teaching a class on Revelation on Sunday nights at my church, I believe it better to take Dawn's (dare I say) pastoral approach, rather than that of the systematic theologian. That begs the question, of course, Can systematic theologians be pastors? Methinks they can...but perhaps being more systematic for some and more pastoral for others.

VHC, ch. 4

Chapter 4 is a "set-up" chapter to chs. 5-8 (which deal with the three traditional models of atonement and René Girard's work). In this chapter Boersma defends his use of metaphorical language (metaphor: meta-across; pherein-to carry) in 'divine hospitality' and 'divine violence' (which are metaphors) because the atonement models are metaphorical, too.

Boersma begins by defining metaphor. "Metaphors take words out of their original contexts and use them in new, seemingly inappropriate ways.... [M]etaphors have an 'as if' structure. We carry meaning of certain words over from one area into another as if those words still held the same meaning" (101). Of course, this carries dangers (e.g., God is a shepherd could be taken to mean he's rough and despised, rather than caring even for dumb and dirty animals). Skepticism for metaphorical language is seen in conservative circles emphasizing literal language whenever possible because of the mentality that literal language is "rational," whereas metaphorical language is "creative" (102). However, metaphors convey more in themselves than literal language, says Boersma. They bring to mind "stories...and...other elements of our world of experience" (103). They also give room for enrichment--which allows "creative engagement with our surroundings" (103). Third, they are also transformative (this follows, it seems to me, from engagement with surroundings; metaphors can change the way we see the world). Finally, they safeguard against "idolatrous claims of knowledge" (104). Our knowledge is partial, so our language should reflect this, as well.

This last point leads us to believe that metaphors aren't simply acceptable, but most accurate. Our knowledge and access to reality is limited, so describing realities metaphorically most accurately captures what knowledge we do have of reality (104-7). So, using metaphor has two conclusions: first, knowledge is humble (accepting revelation); second, it is accurate.

Having defended his use of metaphor--both in atonement and in theological description (hospitality and violence), Boersma gives the proper use of metaphor in atonement. We can neither ignore metaphors, nor push them too far. So, we must use all biblical metaphors in dealing with atonement (108). Of course, some metaphors are more fundamental than others. These fundamental metaphors must be traditional, compehensively coherent, pertinent to life, and personally authentic (Brummer provides the list). This last point means that some metaphors will be more meaningful than others to individual believers.

So, how do the atonement models relate to one another? This is the question Boermsa seeks to answer over the next 4 chapters. He gives a hint, however, as to where his work will go by saying that recapitulation forms a basis for the three models (113) and that "[t]here is a sense...in which Christus Victor is the ultimate atonement metaphor" (114).

Thoughts on metaphor? Language? Hermeneutics in light of this?

A few items

We'll pick up Boersma again on Monday. A few things I wanted to highlight this weekend.

1. Went to a place called "Ollie's" last night in Scranton, PA. It's an outlet store. Some friends had told me of its great book prices. I was a little skeptical, but left with four new, quality books, leaving a fifth on the shelf, for only $16. They were:
a. Who's Who in Christianity by Lavinia Cohn-Sherbok (Routledge 1998). Looks like it has some decent articles with helpful sources listed, too.
b. Talking the Walk by Marva Dawn (Brazos, **2005**). A book about Christian speech and use of words. I think it might become a devotional book for me.
c. Hope among the Fragments by Ephraim Radner (Brazos, 2004). It's subtitled The Broken Church and Its Engagement of Scripture. Anyone familiar with Radner?
d. My absolute favourite find of the night: Everyday Apocalypse by David Dark (Brazos, 2002). It's about the prominence of apocalyptic language in pop-culture. He agrees with my reading of apocalyptic language (meaning, he has read the same people I have!-- Wright, O'Donovan, Cavanaugh, Milbank, Tolkien, Caird, etc.), so I am looking forward to this.
e. The fifth was Howard Marshall's classic, I Believe in the Historical Jesus. I would have bought it...but figured I wouldn't read it anytime soon.

2. Great posts happening at www.leithart.com (Peter Leithart). He's blogging on the intersection of capitalism and morality from a book by Richard Sennett. This was especially provocative.

3. Some may be interested in taking part in a discussion happening at Scot McKnight's www.jesuscreed.org on N.T. Wright's new book Paul in Fresh Perspective. Starts next week; two chapters a week.

VHC, ch. 3

For my own benefit, if you actually read these summaries, let me know. There's no point posting on them if no one is reading them; I can take notes elsewhere and post on other things.

Boersma begins by saying that God's involvement with humanity necessitates selection--which includes geographic, historical, national, and ethnic boundaries (75). Some of these selections have necessarily involved violence. However, this cannot be divorced from God's hospitality in Jesus Christ and how the story came to that point. Boersma's argument follows this line: 1. God's "preferential hospitality" for some is not essential to his character; 2. "Preferential hospitality" must be seen as a positive term; it is a "positive expression of divine hospitality" (76); 3. In using the word "preferential," Boersma is dealing with historical realites of race, wealth, power, etc. These categories automatically have distinctions; 4. His understanding of election ("preferential hospitality"), therefore, is "historical, corporate, and instrumental" in nature (76). So, the (necessary) use of violence is to protect monotheism, counter immorality, and protect the poor--all for the purpose of drawing all nations to himself (76).

Boersma's best work here is on the doctrine of election, to which he gives four characteristics: 1. Election is gracious. Nothing Israel does warrants their selection. 2. Election is a historical doctrine--meaning, it happens within history (namely the exodus event). 3. Election is corporate. God selected a nation. 4. Election is "instrumental," meaning that it is for covenantal relationship. So, ethical behaviour was essential to being in covenant. Quoting Boersma (I'm surprised Some Guy hasn't called him a Pelagian--tongue in cheek--for this statement, considering I've said as much the same thing to get the P-word-condemnation ;)): "Put succinctly, getting in [covenant] was a matter of grace and thus unconditional, but staying in [covenant] required a human response of obedience to the precepts of the Law and was thus conditional."

How does violence play into election? First, because the stakes are so high--the salvation of the world!--God threatens Israel against disobedience (79-81). Second, because God selects *Israel,* he chooses against someone. Still, the choice of Israel is for the poor; in a sinful world we are mired in confrontations of weak and oppressed and therefore violence. Israel, in turn is to show this hospitality to aliens, orphans, and widows--and outsiders in general. The choice of Israel is for the world. But it remains choice and violence does remain.

But have we made too much of authorial intent? Even if the authors endorse the violence located therein, do we not have a responsibility "to interpret against the narrator, plot, other characters, and the biblical tradition" (89, quoting Tribe, "Texts of Terror")? The deconstruction of texts in favour of justice seems to be the reader's responsibility with certain violent (biblical) texts. But this leaves us hopelessly mired in subjectivism. What is just in certain contexts? If justice is to enter history (pace Derrida), then ought we to deconstruct the narrative as we find it? (91).

Boersma completes Ch. 3 with a combination of his critique against Limited Atonement and Postmodern deconstructionist readings of the biblical text. In deference to each, however, he does not expel violence from the text altogether and looks forward to divine hospitality. "God's hospitality in Christ needs an edge of violence to ensure the welcome of humanity and all creation" (93). This is Boersma's conclusion based on his reading of the text, warts and all, and the doctrine of election he finds therein.

VHC, ch. 2

I will be briefer in summary here to keep it more readable.

Boersma believes that while violence is necessary for divine hospitality, the Christian faith rejects that God has violence "inscribed in the heart of his being" (54). However, a belief in double predestination, says Boersma, causes violence to overtake hospitality in God's being. (Double predestination remains a belief among many, though not all, Calvinists.) Yet, one should not be too quick to condemn Calvinism's decree of double predestination. It is, after all, out of his hospitality that God elects some, says Calvin, not on the basis of foreseen faith (strict Arminianism). Further, violence does not disappear altogether even if one rejects double predestination. So, with or without double predestination, one will have to deal with divine violence. Boersma finds a place for violence in the historical contingency of God's acts (chapter 3), not in his eternal decrees and very nature (56).

Boersma traces three elements in Calvin's notion of double predestination. First, it is an eternal decree. Second, it is an individual matter. Third, is futuristically oriented (57-58). While predestination is found in the secret (or hidden) will of God, Calvin emphasizes the revealed will of God, as well. In this emphasis Boersma says that the center of Calvin's theology is not predestination, but the Trinity. (This is how Calvin structured his Institutes.) This is reinforced by Calvin never losing sight of Jesus Christ. Christ is the electing God. Boersma then traces the "in house" discussion of Calvinism in his earliest followers (e.g., Theodore Beza) regarding effectual/ineffectual calling and the importance of the hidden will of God; the hospitality of John Calvin's presonal theology; and limited atonement and hospitality at the Synod of Dort.

Ultimately, Boersma says that the hidden will of God being most prominent trumps Calvin's desire to look at Christ to overtake the hospitality of God with divine violence (61).
Through tracing the discussions merely mentioned above (Calvin's theology; later Calvinism's debate; Dort), Boersma concludes that Calvinism believes double predestination makes "God's love...a powerful and violent love, a love that force[s] the stranger to enter into the Father's mansions, and one that exclude[s] those who [fall] under the spell of God's eternal decree of reprobation.... Thus, Calvinism's limited hospitality, drawing violence into the heart of God, end[s] up undermining the unconditional hospitality of God" (73).

Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross (VHC), ch. 1

Here is a summary of chapter 1 of Boersma's VHC. After a summary, I will give my thoughts. Feel free to comment or ask questions. Remember Boersma's def'n of violence (any force or coercion, either physical or non-physical, that causes injury or harm) when reading.

"Hospitality is not only or even primarily a human virtue, but it is a virtue that has a divine origin; it is a divine virtue" (27). This is Boersma's beginning point. He then asks whether or not divine hospitality is without violence. What is the relationship between hospitality and violence as shown on the cross? "Is the violence of exclusion a necessary counterpart to the practice of hospitality?" (28).

He begins with a critique of postmodernism's call for pure hospitality, especially in the work of Emmanuel Levinas and Jacques Derrida. Levinas says that the 'otherness' of the other puts me (or you) in his/her indebtedness automatically. Openness and hospitality is the necessary posture, regardless of the otherness of the individual. Derrida says that hospitality must have an eschatological bent. He rejects determinate (read: specific) 'Messianisms,' but says that hospitality, if it is to be absolute, must be ignorant (unplanned) and future oriented. However, these two conditions--no planning and no horizon on which it can be attained (say, e.g., at the eschaton) make it an unrealizable hospitality (29-30). Boersma says that Derrida, along with Levinas, believes that "pure hospitality means that I forego all judging, analyzing, and classification of the other" (30, emphasis mine). Against this notion of pure hospitality, Boersma mentions Kant's "universal hospitaliy," which says that the other must "behave peaceably in another's country," and that he does not have the right to stay" (31).

Since Derrida believes in pure hospitality, anything less than this is not truly hospitality at all. Boersma, instead, says it is better to see hospitality as happening in better or worse ways in the limited creation, while remaining hospitality (32). Since pure hospitality is not attainable for Derrida, violence becomes inscribed on the very heart of creation. So, Derrida is left in an existential angst (my words): he sees violence as fundamental, but its solution (pure hospitality), by definition, without horizon. All one can hope for is complete openness to the other--even if that other is a devil. This openness, says Boersma, creates violence rather than diminish it (35).

Is there another way, then? What of divine hospitality that seems tainted with violence in the cross? (Boersma, which we shall see, sees all three main atonement theories--moral influence, penal substitution (in which he considers satisfaction theories), and Christus Victor--as involved with violence in some fashion.) The first issue in seeing a new way is not making evil parallel to violence. Defining violence as "any use of force or coercion that involves some kind of hurt or injury--whether...physical or non-physical--is a form of violence" (47) includes acts in parenting, judicial rulings, or giving a bad grade on an exam as violence. By this def'n, violence need not be evil; in fact, as in the Augustinian tradition, it can be an act of love (48). Boersma then draws together the insight of Levinas and Derrida, that violence is necessarily associated with hospitality (even if such hospitality is not "pure", but "narcissistic"), with the insight of the atonement tradition that divine hospitality is even associated, necessarily!, with violence. Just as hospitality requires violence, Boersma says that love requires wrath. "Love...requires passionate anger toward anything that would endanger the relationship of love" (49). But (as chapter 2 will address) violence is not part of the divine essence but "is merely one of the ways to safeguard...the future of [God's] hospitality when dealing with...life" (49). This violence, employed by God, leads to the eschatological, nonviolent, just kingdom of God, where it is unnecessary. This kingdom is pure hospitality. We take our cues by looking and emulating as best we can pure hospitality, understanding it to be eschatological and not forsaking hospitality because it cannot be pure. Rather, we imitate in limited ways--which, at times, are violent (50-51).

I think Boersma has insightful critiques of postmodern philosophy, while using their categories (pure hospitality, deconstructed justice) to explain the Christian notion of God's kingdom. I further appreciate his realism which takes seriously the human condition of selfishness, but emphasizes that this attitude does not remove one from the hook that demands emulation of Jesus Christ. Our (violent) shortcomings in being hospitable do not leave us without responsibility, but simply demand humility and prayerful anticipation of the eschaton.

Especially insightful is his critique of Derrida's unrealizable "pure hospitality." Think about it: if pure hospitality requires complete openness to the other, which even demands unawareness of the other's arrival, then any preparation for guests means that it is frought with personal bias--and is therefore not solely about the other and becomes even more greatly "hospitable narcissism." Paradoxically, the acts which most would consider hospitality in its best form (preparing for a guest by buying their favourite food, cleaning linens, etc.) actually render the host less hospitable!

I disagree with Boersma, however, in his belief that wrath is God's response when his love is rejected (49). Wrath does safeguard those in God's family (see 1 Cor. 3--God will destroy those whom seek to destroy the body of believers), but wouldn't sorrow better describe God's attitude toward those who reject his gracious call? Boersma draws anger too closely to the nature of God here. Wrath is the flip-side of love, but not the next logical step in God's attitude toward non-believers.

Thoughts? Questions? Appreciations? Disagreements?

Hans Boersma's "Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross"

One of the things Scot McKnight does on his blog is review books chapter by chapter. Since reading retention and theme-discovery is rather important when working with many heavy sources, I am hoping this practice will help me out. So, I'm going to post summaries and thoughts on chapters from books I'm reading for my own benefit. Feel free to comment whether or not you've read the book. The first book is going to be Hans Boersma's "Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross" (Baker Academic, 2004).

Boersma's book is "about atonement theology as an expression of God's hospitality toward us" (15). He seeks to explore human hospitality after considering the nature of divine hospitality as it is most thoroughly shown in the cross (15-16). In this work, Boersma seeks to argue that seeing "hospitality as a metaphor for the love of God, as embodied in the life of Israel, the Church, and the world," shows that "this hospitality, while necessarily involving violence, retains its integrity as hospitality" (17).

His book takes the following form. Chapter 1 sets out that we can only speak about human hospitality after looking at divine hospitality. In this, he argues that violence should be understood in the Augustinian tradition, which says that "violence [is] any use of coercion that causes injury, whether that coercion is positive or negative" (17). Chapter 2 is an argument against Calvinism's Limited Atonement and Unconditional Election, saying that such a position draws violence into the very heart of God. Chapter 3 argues, instead, for a covenental understanding of election which is to form the people of God, to invite the world into relationship with him. Election, "preferential hospitality" (18) (for the poor), is for mission. Chapter 4 defends the position that metaphorical understandings of atonement are not simply helpful, but the most accurate language available for describing the atonement. "[A]ll language is metaphoric in character" says Boersma (18).

Chapters 5-8 form the heart of the book. They discuss, respectively, the moral influence, mimetic violence, penal substitution, and Christus Victor theories in atonement.

The final two chapters discuss Church hospitality and public hospitality. The Church remains Christ's presence in the world and reflects aspects of the atonement. With a public worship, the Church influences public work for justice prophetically, which should thereby take its cues from divine hospitality (and thereby, divine violence).

What do you think of the paradox of divine violence and hospitality in the cross?
Are there questions you're hoping Boersma will answer?
Do you have reservations about divine violence?

What's good for the goose is NOT good for the Gander

Well, Stronach did it and I hated it. Rightfully so. Emerson does it and I more than hate it. To quote a wise man named Paul Perry: "Didn't we just vote against this crap?" Yes, Paul, we did. Most Libs had better say nothing, but all others better be ticked at a fellow crossing the floor and receiving a Cabinet Post the same day.

To fill you in: David Emerson was a Lib MP from Vancouver. This morning he became a Tory MP and is now minister of Int'l Trade and something about the Olympics. I understand it. But it isn't right.

Ecclesiological Movements

i have been thinking about the nature of the emergent church and here is what i've concluded: it is mainly an intellectual movement for Evangelicals and an Evangelical movement for mainliners. (i think it is also a movement for some disgruntled people, but they'll move along soon enough, i expect.) here's why:

Re: Intellectual movement
1. the movement's leaders operate with a relatively high theological and philosophical affluency. it is very much a rejection of modern epistemology and western liberalism's emphasis on the individual. most church people aren't aware that there is such a discussion and don't care to know.

2. its affinity with radical orthodoxy. radical-orthodoxy takes seriously that there should be a theology for everything. rather, everything should find its existence in relation to theology. theology is an implicational study--it demands change and transformation, but only by implication. those who find a home in it from Evangelical churches are glad to be in vibrant churches, and are glad for conversation partners to push theological dialogue.

in essence, those people who have been the church in meaningful ways got sick of there being no value for academic achievement.

Re: Church movement
1. the attraction of some Radical Orthodoxy people. these people tend to be Anglo-Catholic--two bodies that house some Evangelical thinkers and value scholarship. i think that some of these folk are growing tired of the Spirit having left large numbers of their own churches and are glad to find the ecclesiological relationship with Spiritual believers.

2. existentialism is rampant in our society. it's why so many people blog--and think their deepest feelings are worthy to be read by many. (how many blogs have you seen that talk about how deep they are going to be?) needless to say, it's present in academic circles, too. emergent relationships give ecclesiological space for academic existentialists to admit the gravity of sin and still live against the abyss it creates.

this is all evident in your local Christian bookstore: take a look at how many books are geared toward church people written by phd people. karl barth has succeeded in making scholarship for the church--the only problem is that no one in the church reads the books written for them. there's no fault to be given. that's just the nature of the beast--that i can even speak dichotically of the church and the academy shows it. of course, one of the beautiful things about the emergent church is that it is a renewal and not a denomination. people can find affinities in the emergent church and stay with their own denominations. that loyalty may bode well for the future.

Faith Today Magazine

Two things of worth in the latest issue of Faith Today. First, in the "Ask a Theologian" section, some guy deftly moves around the issue of inerrancy with pastoral sensitivity, giving people reason to trust their Bibles but to keep up with theological discussions. Summarizing: You can trust your Bible because God tells the truth. A kudos goes out to some guy for it.

Second, Faith Today asked the Tories, Libs, NDP, and Bloc about the role of politics in faith. (The Bloc had a non-response response that was from a communications director.) First, I was not surprised and found rather humourous Martin's response. Summarizing: "Canada is the best nation. It is a diverse nation. Faiths have to respect diversity. I have met with many different religious groups and have been part of many important gatherings of religious groups and people." My take: Arrogant, uninsightful, name-droppy, and pathetic.

Second, I was not surprised and quite pleased with Harper's excellent response. Summarizing: "Gov't is to serve faith and is the practice of compromise among the people it inherits and represents." My take: Smart and faithful.

Third, I was surprised and impressed with Jack Layton's very Christian response. Summarizing: "Faiths have a responsibility to live out of their prophetic traditions--being people of the poor and marginalized and speaking prophetically to gov't." My take: The man may just be a liberal Christian. (And you can't stay a liberal Christian for long.) His language was very Christian throughout the response.

Thoughts on inerrancy or faith/politics?