Do people like theology?

Sometimes witty titles just don't come to mind. If there is a witty title, it is because it came to me later on. Well, my paper presentation went really well. Good questions asked; stuff mentioned I had not thought of; some critiques that were non-issues (semi-Pelagianism). Anyway, I was surprised at how much fun it was. It was fun to present and talk theology with others with similar interests. But this got me thinking: Do people like theology? Do they think they dislike theology, but actually dislike theologians? Do they dislike the way theology has been presented to them, or the manner in which theology has been taught? Too much/too little exposure?

Anyway, I'd like to hear some perspectives of people who don't often comment and I promise I won't critique. I think theology is incredibly compelling and frequently enhances worship. In this post I don't want to convince why people should love theology or how they actually do in spite of their suspicions otherwise. I am more interested in hearing what turns/has turned people off theology so as not to repeat mistakes.

The Ascension

Friends, this Sunday is Ascension Sunday. I love one of the Scripture readings from the Lectionary for this Sunday:

God has gone up (!) with a shout,
the Lord with the sound of a trumpet.
Sing praises to God, sing praises;
sing praises to our King, sing praises.
For God is the king of all the earth;
sing praises with a psalm.

God is king over the nations;
God sits on his holy throne.

Ps 47:5-8

Our church is highlighting the Ascension with its Scripture readings and a short devotional inserted in the bulletin. It is below. I appreciate your feedback--though it won't make the bulletin deadline! :)

Today is the day Christians celebrate the Ascension of Jesus. For many of us, two questions come to mind: First, “What’s the Ascension?” Second, “What does it matter?”

The event of Jesus being taken up to God the Father after his resurrection, hidden from our sight, is the Ascension (Luke 24:50-53; Acts 1:1-11). At first it seems that not much attention is given to the Ascension, that it’s unimportant. It may just seem like it’s the small account of how Jesus left earth. But there’s more to it! Whenever you read about Jesus being at God’s right hand or being seated in the heavenlies, the ascension is how and why he gets to be there. This is why Christians celebrate it! The ascension puts Jesus in charge! It puts him “high up.”

So, why does the ascension matter? Hebrews 1:3 says that after Jesus provided purification for our sins, he sat down at God’s right hand. He is God’s Man. Hebrews goes on to say that we don’t see everything under Jesus; it doesn’t always seem like Jesus is in charge (2:8). But, even if we don’t see everything under Jesus, we see Jesus crowned with glory (2:9). “Wait a second,” you’re thinking. “Acts 1:9 says that after the Ascension Jesus was hidden from the disciples’ sight. How can we both see him and him be hidden?”

Great question! Think of it like this. Once day I was listening to a ball game with my Dad. The outfielder dropped the ball because the sun was bright—shining in his eyes. My Dad said, “Isn’t it neat to think that the outfielder in Colorado is blinded by the same sun that we see right there?” I thought about that…and it was profound! Though located thousands of miles from the outfielder, we both saw the same sun because it was so high up and so big. But sometimes you can’t see the sun. Maybe it’s hidden behind clouds, it’s nighttime, or there’s an eclipse: something comes between you and the sun. Because the sun is so high there is room for something to come between you and the sun. It’s similar to Jesus. Because Jesus is so high up, because he is Ascended, Christians from all over the world can see and know him. But because he is so “high up” he can be hidden, perhaps by sin, suffering, troubles, or maybe just how we’re feeling! What do we make of this?

Does Jesus being “high up” mean he is absent? No, it means that Christians don’t have to pretend that we have no problems, but still know that, because of the ascension, Jesus is in charge.
Hidden? Yes. Absent? No. In charge? Absolutely!

Authority and the end of the Law

Reading J. Denny Weaver's "The Non-violent Atonement." Some interesting exegesis. He tries to explain the atonement in terms of Christ's life, death, resurrection (as am I, except including the ascension) and calls his work a narrative Christus Victor. This narrative is non-violent from God's perspective. (I remain confused as to how he escapes the sacrificial nature of Christ's death in Paul. Seems to try to "hige it in plain sight" but never succeeds.) Anyway, he says, correctly I think, that in Christ the law is judged and its power is brought to its end. Paul says as much: Christ accomplishes what the law is powerless to do: that we might meet righteous requirements and live by the Spirit (Rom. 8). However, to rule against the law is only possible for God. No one can rule against the law but him. And what rules against the law but the death and resurrection of Christ: the resurrection rules against death, the sting of which is sin, which is the power of the law (1 Cor. 15). The end (telos) of the law, for those who live by the flesh, is death. So, in condemning Jesus to die, Pilate is playing out the end of the law: Sin has put Israel in the position where their Messiah suffers as he does. This is the gateway to the resurrection which shows God's judgment against death in the judgment of his Son. Yet this death, which Pilate enacts, cannot judge the law except that authority is given to him from above (John 19:11). In acting as he does, then, with higher authority, he unwittingly takes a higher role: the vehicle through which God condemns the law in the death of his Son.

Seems to me that if God gives Pilate the authority to condemn God's Christ, and remarkably uses this death to condemn the law, then God is necessarily imlicated in the violence of the cross.

A few items

First, they say confession is good for the soul, so I'm going to confess to having watched Desperate Housewives for the last four weeks. Last night's episode was so ridiculous (and boring), though, that I found myself doing a Soduku puzzle instead. Never again will I watch it. (Not to mention a stern rebuke from Liz B.). Any other TV shows people have unfortunately watched?

Second, does the information revolution and the internet favour a Marxian or Hegelian view of history and its progession? I thought Hegelian because of its propulsion of ideas so quickly and easily, but now I think one can take a Marxian view, as well, because it puts the information power out of the hands of the Izzies, Turners, Blacks, etc. and into, well, mine--and yours. And we are not likely very wealthy. (Except for my brother Paul. He's the richest person I know. Well, next to Richard B. who also works at Nortel--which is why they are rich.)

Third, if this is what you have to complain about, then let me say, "Keep up the good work all you opposition MPs! Thanks for doing us no good! Way to keep the governing party in line by condemning the vehicle they ride in." (Interestingly, the fellow referenced as the spokesperson for Harper in the article, Dimitri Soudas, is a colleague of my Dad.)

Fourth, while I find the Sun chain a little less thoughtful, these are two valuable editorials. This is on the poor decorum of the Liberals in not showing up to hear the Prime Minister of Australia. This is on the recent breakdown surrounding the Public Appointments Commission.

Around and around we go...

If anyone ever wondered how one might 'tear someone a new one' in print, this is how.

I disagree with Coyne's title, however--which he likely didn't create. The Liberal party will once again be a party worth trusting, at some point. However, that time will not come in the next ten years. And even after that, they will have to defeat who I predict will be known as the most effective Prime Minister of my lifetime. And now, a song:

Where have all the Lib'rals gone?
Short time: turfing.
Where have all the Lib'rals gone?
Not long ago.
Where have all the Lib'rals gone?
Grits have bled us--every dime.
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the Martins gone?
Two years: dithering.
Where have all the Martins gone?
Nothing to show.
Where have all the Martins gone?
He lied to us--all the time.
He never learned.

Where have all the Stronachs gone?
One time: switching.
Where have all the Stronachs gone?
She left Toronto.
Where have all the Stronachs gone?
The lion will eat her: short time.
She may not learn.

Turf Wars: Radical Orthodoxy against...?

I am confused about an aspect of Radical Orthodoxy and I put it here (hopefully) to get some clarification (Some Guy, I'm glancing in your general direction.)

I should say that I'm confused by a quote from Jamie Smith's "Introducing a Radical Orthodoxy." He writes (p. 71): "Thus, RO is advocating a distinctly theological engagement with the world--and the academy that investigates the world--undergirded by the belief that the way to engage the contemporary world is not by trying to demonstrate a correlation between the gospel and cultural values but rather by letting the gospel confront these (apostate) values. If, for example, we want to think about th enature of society, 'only (Christian) theology'...can provide a proper account of the nature of social relationship." And here's where I get confused: "Thus, the regnant sociologies currently on offer...--which deny creation and reject revelation--must be confronted on their own turf" (emphasis mine). Huh? Who is the 'their' here? The turf of secular sociologies? Or is it the turf of Christian theology? My understanding of RO (and the context of the paragraph and page) would lead me to the latter interpretation, but the sentence's grammar suggests the former. Thoughts?

Policritics?

A blog was recently started to encourage Belinda Stronach to run for the leadership of the Liberal Party. I submitted two comments to the post which did not bash Belinda Stronach. They went something like this:

"As a conservative who supported the Conservative Party in the last election, who is enjoying the fresh air of efficient gov't compared to the dithering stale odour of the last two years, and who is looking forward to years of such gov't, I can only say that I, too, hope Belinda runs for Liberal party leadership."

The blog, however, has moderated all comments and has rejected this comment twice, apparently including it with the group of "Belinda-bashing jerks" in the following quote:

"A few people have complained about my moderating comments, but I'm sorry, I'm not obligated to make this site a forum for Belinda-bashing jerks." I leave it to you to say whether or not my statement is "Belinda-bashing."

What makes this quote all the better is its self-righteousness in the next statement: "It's really sad that some people have nothing better to do that [sic] tear others down."

And then, to top it off, the self-defeating, self-betraying statement which follows immediately: "But then, that's conservatives for you!" Well done, blogger!

Now, that all would have been funny, except that the blogger approved the following comment:

"Belinda is articulate, intelligent, multilingual young women. She has experience in business and politics and a resume the envy of anyone. If anyone can defeat Harper and his politics of meanness, and arrogance and to ensure that we don't leave the innocent and less fortunate behind, it's a multi-billionaire."

Now, I think this is satire (and rather intelligent at that)--the last sentence giving it away. (Apparently, my satire was just too obvious.) However, if it's serious, then let's all, I beg you, savour the phrase "politics of meanness." (Politics of meanness! I don't like the PM. He's ...corrupt? ...inefficient? ...a poor leader? ...mean! That's it!)

And if it's not satire, then I suggest the good blogger consider a wider censorship.

Leithart link

First, a fantastic post by Peter Leithart. The completely new nature of resurrection is wonderful.

Actually, that's about it.

Blog-keeping matters

First, the name change. I changed from The Plague to reflect the nature of this blog and how it's used. Perhaps at some future point this blog will again attempt to approach the reflection on life that is Camus' The Plague. Perhaps not.

Second, The Pensieve is from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, but figures most prominently in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This is the purpose that this blog serves.

Third, I am presenting a paper at the Canadian Evangelical Theological Association in three weeks. If anyone cares to read the paper and offer feedback, email me or post a comment with your own email address (taking spamming precautions, of course!). It's on the atonement, the ascension, and Christian speech.

Fourth, this morning, I saw on Good Morning America (I think GMA, anyway), a Facts of Life reunion. So, I close with the following: You take the good; you take the bad; you take them both....and there you have....the facts of life. (I would add a Family Guy reference here, but, well, that would be more of a The Plague thing, not The Pensieve. Ah, heck, I'll give half a reference: "Notice the sun spots...." And that was type 3 conflict resolution, "compromise." It is not the highest.)

IPODS, sciences, and preachers

Well, a few things ruminating in my head and I need to get them out. This blog's title may soon be changing to reflect the need to "get things out of my head so that I can examine them only when I wish to." We'll see.

Anyway, a few things. First, IPODS. My friend Nate has a little post reflecting on the nature of IPODS. The reflection he notes says that IPODS let listeners take songs out of the context of an album. Tabling the question whether or not most albums have contexts, isn't this the result of postmodern philosophy? In selling the album, the author gives ownership to the consumer. The owner, literally and figuratively, owns the album. The owner/listener is in charge of the music. Why? Because the artist has lost control of the song; they no longer decide its context (if there was one). In giving the song (the text) fluidity and a life of its own, the "death of the author" notion does not lead to no authors; it (potentially) leads to many.

Second, theology has been called Queen of the Sciences. I think the best way to say what this means is that theology is the science of interpretation. Theology holds the Author's commentary. For example, yesterday a fellow in my church purchased five tickets for a concert at the last minute, when they all should have been gone. He was supposed to do this weeks ago. A friend of mine said, "That means that procrastination pays." I said, "No, it means grace." To say that it means neither is to take theology from the realm of interpretation and place it in its own space in the public square. It is to individualize the sciences. Theology is the work of integration and interpretation. Without it, there is only individualization.

Third, I heard a preacher last night give a dogmatic speech about heaven and hell. He reflected the nature of IPODS: he lifted biblical texts from their context. He reflected the nature of theology: he interpreted. His individual interpretation, however, was, well, lacking. Perhaps this is why theology should be done in community--and even reflects this guideline the very nature of what it does: you cannot interpret nothing; you must always interpret something. And 'something' has plurality built right into it.

Three links, two of which are worth checking

First, John Drury's sermonette here is biblical theology exemplified. Textually faithful; historically informed; theologically implicatory...

This essay is my own attempt to engage in the practice. You'll see the readers haven't always thought the attempt successful! :)

Third, Peter Leithart highlights a text that I think is quite pertinent to our talks on sanctification. The text is on Jesus' command to give, fast, and pray in private. Our enlightenment/pietist eyes have emphasized the "inner nature" of the faith: we fast in secret so that our actions are genuine and of good motive. We cannot fall prey to praise if secrecy is the format! However, much more is going on. In praying/giving/fasting in secret, Jesus' followers have not closed the public door and opened the door of the heart, they have set themselves apart, or "sanctified themselves," from the religious life of the time. This is a sanctification that would be noticed--by participants and contemporaries alike.

Why I like Entire Sanctification

Benson asked some good questions at his blog and inspired my own thoughts here. Hold the issue of whether or not entire sanctification is a biblical doctrine, it is certainly an encouraging existential one. Here's why:

Sanctification comes from our union with Christ. As I am joined to Christ by his Spirit, I become like him. In it, my love is purified and I am empowered to serve out of love. God empowers me to love parents, brothers, nephews, a niece, friends, etc. selflessly because Jesus has loved us selflessly. But this love is not abstract; it is revealed in giving of self. It is revealed in washing feet; in listening; in giving of your life. But I cannot do this of my own, so God joins the purification of love with the power to serve. Sanctification, understood relationally, states that I can become like Christ in how I love others. That is a good thing. I know that I have mixed motives and a mixed will in the love I have for even my closest family and friends. Sanctification says that I can grow in purity of love.

But what about entire sanctification? Is it about throwing out bad music? Never swearing? Always being nice? No, it can include these, but the point is much more meaningful. The doctrine says that I can be purified in love, as I am united with Jesus by the Spirit, and empowered to serve from that love without mixed motives. I can "will one thing" for those I love: their best just because they are who they are and serve them to achieve that best without thinking of my own gain.

Forget whether or not it's true, I like it. It means, at some point, I can get past myself.