Revelation and Humble Imagination Conversion

One of the things I appreciate about John the Seer is his humility. He is through and through a preacher--writing and confronting the church of his day; using images to get people to think outside the box; telling and reorienting contemporary and classical myths to draw his readers into his message; reusing Scripture to interpret his own world. Yet in the midst of this, he is humble.

After his horrific language and description of empire, Rome, Nero, etc. John describes the Roman empire as a woman sitting on a scarlet beast (close to the same colour as the dragon, but using 'royal' tones), wearing purple and scarlet (royal colours), "glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls" (Rev. 17:4). The description is meant to draw comparison to the woman in the desert, representing Israel and God's people, who flees from the dragon, rather than riding it, and who is true royalty because her Son is the King (chapter 12). But in spite of this beautiful description, John reveals this latter woman's true identity (written on her forehead, where the 'mark' of the beast is): "Babylon the Great, Mother of Prostitutes" (v. 5). She is neither royal nor beautiful; she is Mother of Prostitutes. I cannot imagine a more debasing description. Yet, John records, "When I saw her, I was greatly astonished" (v. 6). John himself is taken aback by the misleading beauty of the woman.

The angel responds to him, "Why are you astonished?" The angel's emphasis can only be on one word here. It cannot be on "Why," because that is the very nature of deception--that which is fake is put forth as being real; it cannot be on "astonished," because the description has revealed the true nature of the woman--he is astonished because she is not as she appears. It must, therefore, be on "you." "Why are you astonished?" In other words, "You should have known! You should have gotten it!" But John lets us in on his own shortcomings and lack of Christianized imagination. The angel confirms this interpretation by saying, "The inhabitants of the earth whose names have not been written inte book of life from the creation of the world will be astonished when they see the beast, because he once was, now is not, and yet will come" (v. 8). They are astonished because this beast comes from the abyss and goes to destruction, yet parodies God [consider the description of "he once was, now is not, and yet will come," to "who was, who is, who is to come" (1:8)]. They are astonished because the beast is not who they thought he was; he does not reign eternally. The characteristic of astonishment is for those who do not see the world rightly. And John includes himself in this group.

But, why is John astonished? Because evil is alluring; power is enticing; false beauty comes in many forms. John shows us his own shortcomings; he, too, is astonished that the woman, in spite of her dazzling beauty, is the Mother of prostitutes. He is much like his readers--or, as John thinks of them, brothers/sisters and companions (1:9). Perhaps it was this astonishment, previously hidden in shame but now revealed, that inspired this work; perhaps it this humility that confirmed to God that he could entrust John with this revelation. Perhaps preachers can admit their own amazement at the world's allure even when they preach; perhaps the preacher's imagination is as much under the tutellage of the word as those of his/her hearers.

The joyful existentialist?

Read a blog tonight about that agreed with the notion that we can choose joy (look under "Just Dance." And, btw, Some Guy, the sermon referenced there seems to me revivalism.) I was thinking about this. It might be true that you can choose joy, but it would take an incredibly strong person to choose it. And, of course, in the midst of an introspective moment, my heart went to Camus.

Camus' short story "The Guest" is about a region's school teacher who has a prisoner turned over to him who he is supposed to transport to the magistrate. The schoolteacher, Daru, wants no part of the conflict in which this prisoner is part, though he is a suspected murderer, and says he will simply set him free. However, Daru puts the choice in the prisoner's hands: He takes him part way to the magistrate and lets him go, telling him he can go to prison or to some nomads who will shelter him. He leaves, but when he glances back he sees the prisoner taking the road to the magistrate. Daru returns to his one room schoolhouse where he sees the words, written by friends of the prisoner, "You handed over our brother. You will pay for this." Camus then closes with these words: "Daru looked at the sky, the plateau and beyond the invisible lands stretching all the way to the sea. In this vast landscape he had loved so much, he was alone." Could Daru have chosen joy?

The story leaves me with mixed feelings: It leaves me sad and a little hopeless because, well, that's what the best existentialist stories do. It also leaves me content because someone has captured what many feel -- a strong sense of love, desire to live the best they know how, estrangement from the affairs of others, and isolation. When I combine these feelings, it makes perfect sense that Camus would become a Christian.

But, I wonder, Can the existentialist choose joy?

The Ten Horns of Kingdom and the Identity of the Jesus

Revelation 17 has John's vision of the power of empire as the great prostitute sitting on the great beast that, elsewhere in Revelation, has represented Nero specifically and the Roman empire in general. Now the beast, however, is what the woman of empire rides, and he has ten horns, which John says are ten kings who have not yet received a kingdom, but who will receive authority for one hour along with the beast (17:12). John is saying that grasps at power fragment kingdoms into smaller realms, which are held for temporary amounts of time and which, eventually, come to hate the empire which rules them and they tear her to pieces (17:16). In the first seven seals of Revelation, John has shown the "natural" progression in human affairs when left to themselves in God's judgment, so it doesn't surprise us that judgment against the woman would be achieved by letting empires run their course. What is surprising, however, is that the identity of the Lamb is conditioned by the horns and the beast.

Even in receiving their own power, the ten horns, or kings, realize that all authority has not been given them, so they give their limited authority to the beast, who is a parody of Christ, in an effort to "make war against the Lamb" (17:14). The problem, however, is that no one can (even) make war against the Lamb. The beast, in his effort to make war, is simply captured (19:20)! In giving their power to the beast, however, these kings make the beast their king. The beast literally becomes the "lord of lords and king of kings." John, however, gives this explicit title to the Lamb--first, immediately following this act of the ten kings (17:14) and then in the eschatological moment of the White Rider's return (19:16).

The fact that John first gives this title to Jesus in mockery of the efforts of human authority impresses me, again, with the nature of this King. He does not consider the Messiahship of God something to be grasped, but accepts it from his God. He does not consider his authority something to be spurned and rejected, but does indeed use it to thwart all enemies. I believe John's point is that to those who worship Jesus, he appears as the Lamb. But to those who wish to make war against him, he is a conquering rider. The issue, again, is of worship and repentance. Proper attitude to the King of kings makes all the difference in the world.

Resurrection and the Historicity of the OT

I have been thinking since lunch time today whether the resurrection vindicates Israel's Scriptures. I think it does. Here's why: Messianic resurrection only makes sense in the context of second-temple Judaism (all elements needed). It doesn't make sense for Sadducean theology (no resurrection); it doesn't make sense for first temple Jews (no resurrection); it doesn't make sense in animistic/gnostic/spiritual religions (what point is resurrection for the soul? dead bodies are known to stay dead!). It does make sense in the story and tradition of second-temple Judaism, though...lots of sense. I said yesterday that Jesus' resurrection proves what it assumes--that Jesus was born, lived, and died. But since it only makes sense in second-temple Judaism, it also vindicates the story of Israel because no other story would lead to it. So, the OT is true because Jesus was resurrected.

However, if the resurrection does vindicate the OT, then this conclusion makes completely irrelevant the historicity of the Old Testament. If Jesus was indeed resurrected, then it makes no whit of difference whether a group of misfit slaves came out of Egypt, whether a city called Jericho had some falling walls, whether a King named David lived, whether fire fell from heaven to destroy prophets of Baal.

Now, I am still conservative in my Bible reading...so I believe these things happened with all the storied meaning put into them that makes them worth believing, but if Jesus was raised from the dead then their meaning holds true without the actual event mattering in the least. Interesting how the validation becomes more important than what is validated and reorients the very nature of the story that generates the validating event.

What were those disciples thinking?

Apparently 17% of Canadians think Jesus' death was faked. I am realizing the ingenuity of this argument, obviously false though it is. The historical evidence for a Jesus of Nazareth (bone boxes aside) is overwhelming. Moreover, the crucifixion (next to his birth, though that nature of this is disputed) is the most basic element of this life: Jesus from Nazareth existed and was crucified. The faked death theory is wrong, but ingenius because it undercuts all arguments for resurrection--which are quite strong. In essence if the resurrection happened, then so did the life of Jesus. The resurrection proves what it assumes.

This got me thinking about another argument for believing in the resurrection: It was a stupid ploy for those to invent Jesus' resurrection when they had religious resources to think otherwise. First, as good second-temple Jews, influenced by good Pharisaical theology, the disciples believed in a resurrection at the end of time [so, Martha says about Lazarus, "I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day," (John 11:24)]. After the crucifixion, the disciples, no doubt, would have been disappointed by Jesus' death and his being a failed Messiah, but still would have hoped to see this great prophet at the last day. Second, messiahs had come before and would come again, and so their disappointment, great though it was, would not have led to craziness.
Their dead friend could have remained dead and their lives have gone on with the resources of their own theology. What makes absolutely no sense, however, is for them to invent a resurrection story, against their own theology, to the detriment of their nationalist hopes. Proclaiming a resurrected and ascended Messiah leaves them with proof against the claim of resurrection (look in the tomb) and extreme skepticism of the belief in an ascended Messiah (most kings worth following tend to be present or have 'images' present--or standing armies).

If the disciples did indeed invent the resurrection story, they have cut off from themselves,
a. their theology (future resurrection is now not an option for their friend), and
b. their messianic hopes (if this fellow was the messiah as they proclaimed, they could not follow another); and have given their enemies two significant resources: a. a tomb to investigate, and b. a significant source of doubt of an absent king.

If you want people to believe your stories, you don't put yourself that far behind the 8 ball.

Resurrection Redux

I have been critical on this blog of some evangelical teaching that the gospel is 'going to heaven when you die' for a few reasons. First, because that's not the gospel. The gospel is that Jesus is Lord--though more good news gets worked out from there, of course. Second, because it emphasizes separation between heaven and earth which is exactly what Rev. 21-22 is against. The life to come is about heaven (the abode of God) and earth mingling. Well today my suspicions were confirmed: many evangelicals don't believe in the resurrection. 41% to be exact. How appropriate that this Sunday is Resurrection Sunday! We can begin correcting the problem this week!

While my belief is obvious now, how important do you think belief in the resurrection is to Christian teaching?

Irony is the Element of Life

I like irony. I found two ironies this week:

1. A local unitarian universalist church has consistently displayed a sign, "Room for different beliefs. Yours." This week, however, on their display board was, I think though I can't explain it, a slam against Christianity. It read: "Prophet. Savior. Fool for the energizer bunny." I think it was supposed to read "Easter bunny," but someone accidentally put in "energizer bunny." Anyway, I am guessing that there would be no room at the inn for someone who believed that that fool is worthy of worship, especially in the most foolish act of the cross.

2. I found two volumes of Rudolf Bultmann's New Testament Theology in my church's library. At first I thought this was ironic in itself. But it's not. What's really ironic is that they deserve to be there in that experience is the basis for much evangelical faith today.

Applying the Useful Skill of Critical Thinking

All this jibber jabber about the Da Vinci Code (DVC) has highlighted for me two things: 1. People either do not read the Old Testament or, if they do, they don't read it carefully; 2. People have lost the ability to think critically. (Of course, this should not be a surprise to postmodernism because if all claims are masked power plays then there are only different appeals to different authorities, when you think about it. Why think critically when that helps not a whit against arguments from authority?) Anyway, here's the evidence:

1. The Messiah, King, for Jews was not about being taken out of the world or being personally forgiven for sin. Messiah was to kick the butts of foreign rulers who mock God. He was to bring God's justice as Kings always do. Such a person could have been married--it would have been no biggie. Contrary to DVC, there would have been no reason for a 1st century Jew to hide this. There would have been reason, however, to hide that Jesus traveled with both married and unmarried women in his entourage as Luke 8 records. That was controversial. So, seemingly, the Gospel writers have recorded the controversial part and left untouched the non-controversial; that's not the way to hide controversy!

Moreover, if Mary of Magdala was indeed married to Jesus, which would not have been a big deal 1st c. (i.e., not something to hide), but for some reason they wanted to hide it, they have not just let her slip into obscurity, but highlighted her as a specific person: She is Mary the Magdalene. It's quite strange to invent a controversial act with specific people to cover up a non-controversial one, if you ask me.

2. And now for critical thinking. The claim that the "secret/condemned" gospels, located in the Nag Hammadi desert in Upper Egypt (Gospel of Thomas, Gospel of Philip, etc.), hold the earliest and true accounts of Jesus is completely backwards--just look at a map (and maybe a history book). It makes no sense that the "real" gospels would be found 300 miles from Jerusalem, where Christianity begins, and would have radical breaks with their foundational Scriptures (the OT) in teaching a gnostic Messiah (an oxymoron for most Jews; like I said, Messiah was to bring justice politically). It makes perfect sense, however, that a skewed version of a previous teaching would be found on the outskirts of the region where a religion began. That's where skewings take place--away from the action, outside the realm of readily available knowledge, near cultures that don't have the same history of religions.

So, if you want to buy a DVC code breaker, I suggest use the one you've already got: The Old Testament and the maps found therein. Happy reading!

Tories, Ironies, Islam, and Writing for Yourself

Well, I am going to jam a few things into one post here. I am taking a break from what were non-inspirational atonement thoughts and going for something more subtle.

First, a subdued but sincere kudos to Stephen Harper. A rocky start with a senatorial appointment, back-dooring a non-elected person into cabinet (popular in Montreal, from what I read) and enticing a Liberal MP into Tory cabinet has been followed up with strong leadership: being in Afghanistan; refusing to be the media's toy; refusing to let the Liberals think they still run the country. He is still wrong in the above mentioned cabinet appointments, however.

Second, I am realizing the irony of all my more...uh...naturalistic friends who give links for books they like to amazon.com. The irony? Because these friends usually support more person based businesses (refusing to shop at Walmart)...and amazon.com is...uh...(to quote Ben Witherington) not so much. Yet my man Oliver O'Donovan (who some, in spite the tireless work of those who read him to show the error of this way, consider a neo-con) reminds us that clicking a few buttons and having people run to have a book delivered to your doorstep is quasi-slavery. Hmmmm....

Third, an issue that continues to shove itself in my face is the war on terror. I've been reluctant to blog about it (even though this is a "bastion of conservatism"--actually, I think Tim R. made a mistake: it's actually a "bastion of conversatism") because it's such a hot topic, but I'll put a bit here. I find myself holding what some consider to be mutually exclusive opinions:

1. George W. Bush is not the devil, though he may be under the influence of some overly arrogant people.

2. Neo-conservative writers usually reek of more arrogance than the former Liberal gov't of Canada.

3. Radical Islam is more widespread than admitted and is about the ugliest display of human personhood that is currently seen.

4. The goal of a superpower to remake political landscape may prove to be a disastrous idea--even, and perhaps especially, if it succeeds. But, by God's grace, it may not prove to be so disastrous. And I mean that by God's grace part.

Lastly, too many people are writing books. There are only a few books worth reading and they are usually by the same few people. Too many people are writing and too few are reading. I realize the irony of this statement (in that I am perpetuating the problem by writing something no one reads), but refuse to accept the criticism. This blog is for me; it is an exercise in spiritual discipline.

Reflecting on Lent: The Thirsty God

The following is indebted to and inspired by a reflection in Hauerwas' book "Cross-Shattered Christ."

The point of Lent is to draw us into the demeanor of Jesus on his road to Calvary. It is to enable us to identify more closely with the suffering of Jesus so that we can better grasp the glory of his resurrection. The despair of the former is only exceeded by the rapture of the latter--and we can only appreciate the one with the other; they are inseparable. The texts that I want to reflect on this week are from John. John 4 records the woman at the well who, in her shame, has come to the well in isolation to draw water. To her, Jesus offers living water--fresh water. In verses 13-14, Jesus says, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." With this in mind it becomes remarkably surprising that John 19:28 records Jesus, from the cross, saying, "Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, 'I am thirsty.'"

How could the one who offers living water that will quench all thirst himself be thirsty? I believe this shows the inseparable nature of God's glory from his crucifixion; of Jesus' death and his resurrection. Jesus has said words recorded of those in exile from God. On the cross Jesus experiences the broken relationship of the Christ being forsaken by his God--the very broken relationship of Israel and her God when she is in exile. Thirst is the description of being away from God. By thirsting Jesus is saying more than his tongue is dry; he is saying he is away from God and identifies with humanity. But never forget that he offers living water--water that shows the restoration of relationship. This is somewhat paradoxical, of course, but John never shies away from paradox. That is why he records Jesus' words: "When I am lifted up (on the cross), I will draw all people to myself." The thirsty God is the one who knows how meaningful living water becomes.

Lent shows us the paradox of a Thirsty God. Only in remembering the thirst of Christ from his position on the cross can we again taste the freshness of the living water he offers. Lent invites us into the thirst.