Turning Cheeks and Giving Cloaks: Preaching a Sermon one Week Early

So two weeks ago I preached on Matt. 5:38-42: Turning the other cheek, going the second mile, giving your cloak in addition to your coat. As it turns out, I preached it a week early.

This week I was given a ticket for parking on the wrong side of the street overnight. Opposite side parking is for snow removal trucks, so that they can clear 3/4 of the street because everyone has parked on the same side. Naturally, when there is no snow and has been none for 6 weeks, opposite side parking doesn't seem as important. Anyway, I guess it is because I was ticketed on March 30 at 3:30am because it is so essential for the streets to have consistent parking until opposide side parking goes out of effect--April 1.

Also this week, today in fact, I had my brand new mp3 player (well, 3 week old mp3 player) stolen from my church office. Gone. Stolen. Removed without permission. A bunch of riveting (to me) lectures and three Coldplay albums in the hands of some person from Johnson City.

Now, I considered, ala Bruce McCollough (sp?) from "Kids in the Hall," writing open letters to the Johnson City officer whose badge number is 098 and to the person who stole my mp3 player, but was reminded of God's word. So, to the officer, I turn the cheek--and have truly come to pity the person who feels the need to ticket someone in the above circumstance. And I give my cloak, too--or at least make it available, to the person who stole my mp3 player. How that happens is only grace.

Too bad I wasn't preaching that sermon this week, though. I would have some kickin' illustrations.

Ultimate Destruction and Christus Victor

To continue with some atonement thoughts, I want to examine Christus Victor in light of evil as that which is destructive, the end of evil being ultimate destruction. I have said that only God can bring about ultimate destruction and only God can absorb ultimate destruction. This is possible because God is omnipotent and Triune: His omnipotence makes possible that he can render creation to nothing (ultimate destruction) and his Triuneness assures that the relationship between the person who brings ultimate destruction and the person who absorbs ultimate destruction is not destroyed, because there still exists the bond of love who is the Spirit himself. Now, how can we think of this in terms of God's defeat of Satan on the Cross, Christus Victor?

The biblical language about Satan is subtle and elusive. He is the accuser (literally, what the Hebrew word 'stn' means); he is the enemy; he is the serpent (a symbol for the fertility god of some of Israel's contemporary nations); he is the dragon who gives power to the beast in Revelation; he is the tempter when Jesus is in the wilderness. We can say, in Christus Victor terms, that Jesus defeats the Satan because Jesus displays the end of the power that the Satan can offer. The power which the Satan offers the beast in Revelation is political empire. Political empire shows its ultimate power in taking life; it cannot, however, give life. For this reason the resurrection brings terror to those who trust the power of the Satan because the beast is only able to kill; he cannot raise to life (Rev. 11:7-12). The power that the Satan gives is shown to be lacking even in its ultimate display by God the Father on the cross because God the Son absorbs this destruction and is resurrected. The negation (ultimate destruction) is negated (resurrection). In this way Christ conquers the Satan. (Interestingly, this conquering is started when he rejects the offers of power the Satan makes in the wilderness, offering a more wholistic, narrative account of atonement.)

God's weakness or hypocrisy and reading Revetion literally

Just to pull some up to speed, I have been doing a study of Revelation on Sunday nights at my church. A week ago a text jumped out at me that made me see how reading Revelation literally is quite dangerous to a rigourous doctrine of God. Here's the text:

Rev. 11:18: "... The time has come for judging the dead, and for rewarding your servants hte prophets and your saints and those who reverence your name, both small and great--and for destroying those who destroy the earth" (emphasis mine). Now, if God indeed does destroy those who destroy the earth, and Revelation's judgments are read literally, then I am left with one of two conclusions:

1. God is (somewhat) hypocritical: Granted that the earth is the Lord's and everything in it (and he can flood it!), it still does seem a little hypocritical for God to carry out punishment with the act which he is actually punishing!

2. God is weak: Those who destroy the earth have pushed it too far and God can only "complete the job," so to speak.

Good thing a symbolic reading of the book is much more faithful to the text.

Moral Influence and God's destructive act

I include here an argument I make in a paper on judgment and atonement. I only submit part of the argument here. Let me sum up my argument so far:

1. Evil is ultimately destructive.
2. Human evil is finite because humans have finite power.
3. Ultimate destruction can only be achieved by infinite power.
4. On the cross, God shows the end of evil by displaying ultimate power in judgment.
5. Ultimate destruction by God's power would render the world to nothing, so God must also absorb this destruction.
6. God empties evil of its power by defeating it on the cross by displaying its end (which only God can do) and by absorbing its destruction (which only God can do).

I started thinking of this line of thought in terms of the moral influence theory of atonement, too. So, here's my thought:

There is a second reason for God doing an ultimately destructive act and it can be understood in terms of moral influence. The display of the end of human sin in ultimate destruction leaves no room for any human sinful action to be seen outside this act of God. While God’s act of destruction on the cross exceeds all human acts (because God’s act of power is infinite and humans can only act with finite power), the human condition of sin requires a infinite act of destruction to be the backdrop against which their sinful, penultimate acts of destruction can be seen. Were God’s judgment on the cross finite, then humans could see their acts of sin not against the cross, but somehow as the exception to God’s act of destruction. If, however, God’s act of destruction is ultimate, then, every human act of destruction can be seen in its light (shadow?). There is no act of destruction whose end is not displayed on the cross. There is no human destructive act which is peripheral to God’s act. As a result, humans can see on the cross God’s love in bearing the ultimate destruction and the necessity of his ultimate act of destruction to provide the rubric in which the human act of sinfulness can be seen. This seems in line with the goal of moral influence.

Keeping promises and being like God

(The following was inspired by and is heavily indebted to a lecture by Dr. Christine Pohl at ATS.)

In Romans, Paul talks a lot about the righteousness of God. The righteousness of God can be understood as God’s faithfulness to the covenant, or “promise,” he has made. So, God keeping his promises is what makes him righteous. That’s exactly what faithful means: keeping promises. In Philippians 1, Paul says that the fruit of God’s righteousness, God’s promise kept to us, comes through Jesus. So, we can say that Jesus doesn’t just keep his promises, but he himself is God’s promise kept to us! God’s promise to humanity not to abandon us is kept because Jesus has come to us.

So, what does this imply for our lives? Speaking about about keeping promises, Lewis Smedes said, “If you have a ship you will not desert; if you have people you will not forsake, if you have a cause you will not abandon, then you are like God.” He went on. Promises are what reach into an unpredictable future and make something secure; promises grasp the unknown and make something known. God, in and through Jesus, reached into the future with a promise to us and now reaches into our futures with his promises to remain faithful—to remain a person who keeps his promises. What are the promises we need to keep? Are there ships we are close to deserting? People we’re close to forsaking? Remember that even though promise keeping is extremely hard, it’s something God takes most seriously himself and keeping promises makes us like him.

Strange texts and Lent

In Old Testament accounts the first words of a character are meant to give us a glimpse into the deeper aspects of the person's life. If their first words are wise, then we will likely come to see them as wise; if they are words of praise, we should understand that they are people of praise, and so on. In 1 Samuel 1, we are introduced both to Eli and to Hannah. Eli is a priest, Hannah is a barren woman. One trip to Shiloh, where the temple was located, Hannah and Elkanah, her husband, are eating and drinking. Afterwards, Hannah begins praying and asking God for a child. Eli, just having seen her drink wine, thinks she is drunk and says, "How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine" (1:14). Hannah responds that she is not drunk, but deeply troubled. She promises to give her child to God if God grants her request for a child.

There is a sharp contrast between Hannah and Eli: Eli assumes the worst of Hannah with his first words, whereas Hannah's first words are prayers to God. Eli's children meet demise in battle (4:17) and Eli himself dies, as well. [Interestingly, the same way we are introduced to Eli--sitting down (1:9), is the same way we are introduced to his death (4:13, 18)]. Hannah's child, however, is one of Israel's greatest leaders of all time--Samuel.

One of the purposes of Lent, in preparing to have proper mind to appreciate the sacrifice of Christ, is to help us see where we might be "Eli's": We are sometimes people who jump to conclusions and who have wrong interpretations of others--even those we'd least suspect to have the proper attitude like Hannah.

The cat is...yahhhh...out of the bag

The above is a quote from Cozmo Kramer. But it equally applies to the latest work of Brian McLaren: "The Secret Message of Jesus" (Word Publishing, 2006).

Introduction
McLaren, founding pastor of Cedar Ridge Community Church and leading spokesman for the Emergent Church movement, aims in his newest release to examine Jesus in a political/historical context for three types of readers: those interested in spirituality but not religion; those who have read and enjoyed his books before; those who have read and disliked his books before. He takes a narrative approach in moving from work on Jesus' historical context to Jesus' message itself to our current context.

Description
McLaren says that Jesus emerged to provide a new religio-political way, different and slightly similar to all the other options of his day. Unlike the Essenes, he did not advocate withdrawal; unlike the Zealots he did not advocate violence; unlike the Sadducees he did not play to the local authorities; unlike the Pharisees he did not think purity and piety would force God's kingdom. His message is revolutionary, but not revolutionary in any way close to the other options. His is a new way of life. This message spreads secretly and meaningfully in parables and miracles. He enacts his message by being with the lowest and weakest.

Finally he explores the implications for today's church. How does the church currently live out the Kingdom of God which Jesus preached? He suggests a new rendering rather than Kingdom of God. He suggests Revolution, Party, Dance, Network, Mission, and Dream of God. Ultimately, however, McLaren is not concerned simply with new language, but new lives. In the end, the Kingdom should embody all of the above!

Evaluation
McLaren's work is largely the result of a boon of what could be called 'political theology.' His influence from the New Perspective on Paul is readily seen as is his passion for spiritual formation and discipleship. McLaren simply and accurately gives the context for Jesus among the Essenes, Sadducees, Zealots, and Pharisees. He concisely introduces the reader to Jesus' context and exactly how his words would have sounded on the ears of his contemporaries.

McLaren's best work is in section two where he examines Jesus' use of parables, miracles, and the way in which the Gospel spread. His clever rendering of the Messianic secret into a subtle and subversive plan and method of Jesus is intriguing. Those who engage in the message of Jesus, which does come out in the open at the proper time, he calls "secret agents." These he finds and highlights in our current world.

Regarding how one moves into this gospel--how one "gets saved" some could say, is that you don't have a new status, like being in a club. Rather, you move into a "new practice, like a doctor entering the practice of medicine..." (111). Some may find his rendering of one's entrance into this new community to be Pelagian. Ultimately, however, his issue is not "earning salvation" but growing into the likeness of Christ. Such a message of transformation, if interpreted correctly, ought to be well received among Wesleyans and Methodists and those of similar history. One neither stores up actions for God's favour, but participates in God's favour (God's Kingdom!) by the power of his Spirit and is thereby transformed by God.

McLaren's weakest work, however, comes in Appendix One (perhaps it's why it is an appendix). Here he deals with the Prayer of the Kingdom. At times he correctly urges a new read; at others his work feels forced. But this is only a minor criticism.

I was impressed by McLaren's ability to steer clear of cheap shots against of current political situations. Where he does engage, he engages seriously and thoughtfully; where he does not, he does not. What McLaren has done is present the kingdom and lead to implications of the gospel to be worked out in different communities.

Assessment
If McLaren wants to put one book in the hands of the average reader and have them understand his context and background, then he will not always succeed. For some a "spiritual Jesus" is too firmly entrenched in their minds and McLaren's work will likely (incorrectly and ironically) be deemed "liberal." (Incorrect because he believes in a flesh and blood resurrection; ironic because a spiritual Jesus is much more palatable to the Modern mind than a political Jesus who should have kept his religion and politics separate!) However, McLaren's work is a great starting point for those interested in gaining the theology of the Emergent Church as well as those interested in the influence of political theology.

McLaren's work is sure to be read widely by Emergents, but much less among non-Emergents. However, the wide marketing campaign in which its publisher, Word, has engaged may lead to a wider readership among younger Evangelicals and disillusioned mainliners.

Imagination Conversion and Marriage

Imagination conversion means we get to see the world in a new way. Of course, sometimes the way we see the world is like a comfortable blanket we snuggle into. I like seeing the world as I see it because I see it right. I get to say that my discomforts are wrong and unjust; I get to say that my pleasures are what I deserve and fair, and so on. Seeing the world a new way is dangerous. It means I'll likely have to change.

Enter the newest confrontation to my imagination (way of seeing the world): Singleness and Marriage. Being single is not the greatest lifestyle and one that is tempting to gripe about. BUT, Paul calls it a gift (1 Cor. 7:7). I certainly have not considered my singleness a gift and therefore have not thought rightly. The beginning (and continuation) of imagination conversion is repentance--an intentional changing of the mind; thinking anew. Thinking rightly about relationships means that I have to consider my singleness as a gift--moreover a gift from God!

Morning Link

Peter Leithart keeps putting out quality things that demand to be linked to. This one, on the frustrating nature of the Bible, its openness to inconsequential characters, and its ability to decentralize the reader (the Bible's not all about me? it doesn't have a point to put in my life at every turn? what?), is great. Read it here. Also, see the good news in yesterday's post about a free ticket--and pray I can go!

Catching up and VHC 10: Public Justice and the Hospitality of Liberation

Well, a few things to pass along. First, a funny irony pointed out by Peter Leithart. It's short and on Bultmann so check it out. Second, I saw Dr. Scott Carroll of Cornerstone University speak on the Da Vinci Code last night at our church. Good speaker; smart guy. Had a good time with Matt Rose who came down for the event. Third, I was offered a free ticket to and free lodging the night of a Colplay concert in Cleveland. I don't see how I can pass that down, BUT it'll be hard getting there. Good thing I have a cool boss!

Now, to those few who have been reading my summaries of Boersma's Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross (Baker Academic, 2004), here is the last installment. This chapter is Boersma's efforts to outline and defend that the Christian faith can, contrary to recent belief, work against violence and injustice in the public sphere, beyond the walls of the church. The question he asks, and to which he answers affirmatively, is, "Can we look to the cross as providing an impetus for public justice that reaches...into the political, social, and economic arenas?" This puts him on a collision course with what he calls the "fatal disease of false humility" (the language of which he credits to Milbank) (238). That he places this discussion outside his discussion of the Church his his siding with Augustine and Aquinas that there is a place for earthly politics (the foundational disagreement between pacifists and just war thinkers, IMO). Boersma's argument flows from the belief that moral influence and Christus Victor theories of atonement contribute to public notions of justice, with their eyes on the eschatological kingdom of God. The best categorization of this contribution are "liberation" (240).

First, Boersma applauds Radical Orthodoxy's attempt to bring back the notion of metanarrative and unashamedly put forth the community of the church as the community of forgiveness. However, Boersma's criticizes John Milbank for his rejection of violence but acceptance of coercive force (or power) in the interest of peace. "Milbank cannot have it both ways" (243). Rather, Boersma wishes Milbank would play a more realist (my word) card, admitting the pervasive nature of violence and nodding yea or nay to its use depending on relationship to the eschatological kingdom. Second, Boersma criticizes RO's prominence of the church--moving its position from being central to being monopolic. Milbank limits justice to ecclesial justice (244). This leads to a negation of the value of politics beyond the Church.

Next Boersma considers different proposals of liberation theology, rightly bringing discussion down to the question of the "location of the public and the social beyond the Church" (251). A pacifist position, (over?)emphasizing the counter cultural nature of the Church, says Boersma, holding strong to the Radical Reformation and recent proponents Cavanaugh, Yoder, and Hauerwas, denies even the "relative good and hospitality to take shape outside the ecclesial boundaries" (251, emphasis mine).

Contrarily, Boersma follows liberation theologian Jon Sobrino that forgiveness of sin also means its eradication. One cannot simply hate sin, but must eradicate and this might mean violence against the sinner. Forgiveness cannot simply mean legal acquittal, but must mean "transformation of social injustice" (253). Boersma alters Sobrino, though, by saying that justice aims at restoration, not eradication. In fact, it may serve as an indicator to the coming Kingdom and of the resurrection (255).

This chapter is bit tough to understand, especially considering the works Boersma is dealing with. At times the rhetorical beauty of his interlocutors overtakes its coherence. But, it is a neat entry point into conversation between Radicaly Orthodoxy thinkers, their supporters and their detractors.

education and theology

good discussion happening at kenschenck.blogspot.com about asbury seminary (possibly the best thing was kerry kind calling andrew benson 'andy.' yeah, that was definitely the funniest...sorry benson!). i'll leave the experts to discuss it (and there truly are some there). here's my issue: what will theological education look like in the future?

here are my thoughts:

1. it will become more local church driven. it costs big money to fund churches. big, big money. i don't see the north american economy stretching into affluence for ever, so the nature of church will change. churches will become more geographically based and have looser connections with their denominational traditions at the pew level.

2. clergy, however, will stay connected with the institutions that trained them. so, theological education will become more institution driven. this combines to form this flavour: churches will see potential pastors and pour part of their resources into education which will be funneled by current pastors.

3. theological education will become more mobile. seminaries and colleges will still have facilities, but its employees will do seminar training in differet locations. if churches are expecting to get those they send out back to them, they will not want them gone for 3-7 years with minimal contact in their city/town. so, education will come to students as much as students go to education.

4. theological education will become more pastoral and formational.