Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Introverts Gone Wild


Reformation Day
Vigil of All Saints


My boy Antony's talking about blogging and conflict. He prefers to avoid it, and I obviously don't. See, I'm a bit introverted. Really. I'm also deeply introspective. I think about myself all the time - wouldn't you, if you were me?

Folks deal with bent toward introspection in different ways. Some people keep their own counsel, while I craft a public persona (and what a persona it is!). Introspection can be a kind of self-obsessing, or it can be helpful for our growth, depending on what we do with it. It has become a very important tool for me to practice examining my presuppositions. Say that I did think that conflict and disagreement (as such) were Bad Things. What would I have to believe in order to think that disagreement and controversy are bad? I don't know your answers, but mine would be:

1. People don't respect people with whom they disagree
2. If people really disagree with me, they won't love me
3. I have to say the right things in order to belong
4. People only find me interesting because they agree with me.

Again, those would be my answers. So I have to ask, are these things true?

Roger Jasper is one of my best friends. (photos here) Roger is clever, spirited, and well read. He is fiery, and as Anabaptist as anything. I'm certain that he respects me very much, but he's never afraid to say, "Kyle, that sounds like a lot of bullshit to me. Where is that in Scripture? Come on, now." We're close together on "baptist" things, but farther apart on "catholic" things. We're each exploring the catholicity of the Church in our thinking and reading, in our own contexts. But we talk about this stuff, and agree on things and disagree on other things and ask and answer and listen. It's great fun. I try to have him and Jessica (and the genius baby) over for dinner every couple of weeks.

I can name all kinds of issues about which I disagree strongly among my closest friends. But they're my closest friends. We have to be careful when we talk about these things so we don't hurt one another, but it doesn't mean we can't or don't talk about them.

That takes out #1-3 in my little list. As for the last, I know I've got a lot of blog readers who disagree with me, but think I'm interesting and hilarious (Come on, you know you do). Do they "totally" disagree with me? Probably not. But if we all knew and thought the same things, we'd be quite bored with one another. The conversations on my blog rarely get ugly these days, and not because of an absence of disagreement and contradiction. I think part of it is the tone I try to set as well as being a good moderator.

Technorati Tags: ,

Monday, October 30, 2006

The Black Death... and some links

Ordinary Time

I'm still in Colorado this morning, suffering from a bit of a cold. It's been a good time, though. I slept and watched Shaun of the Dead yesterday afternoon while my family visited the local aquarium, but managed to get myself off the couch for buffalo burgers. It was pretty sweet. I think we're visiting the US Mint this morning, and I think my sister wants to work in a Celestial Seasonings factory tour before dropping us at the airport around lunchtime.

I've been reading John Kelly's The Great Mortality: An Intimate History of the Black Death, the Most Devastating Plague of All Time. I enjoy how HarperCollins thought it necessary to put that little explanation in the book's subtitle. It's pretty interesting. General mortality during Europe's plague outbreaks was about a quarter to a third, but in some places could reach 40 or 50%. That's incomprehensible to me. It made me quite a bit more grateful for the life that I live; I mean, I just have a cold, and that's that. When I go back home, my roommates will likely be alive, and none of them turned into zombies.

And that's just the way I like it.

The Legal Alien at Gladly Suffering Fools has posted cute photos of his "filthy beggar" children.

Josh Williams discusses his journey "From Guilt to Grace."

According to the American Family Association of Kentucky, you should vote entirely based upon superstition, rather than ethical reflection. Frank Lockwood: "Did Clinton Save America from God's Wrath?" I've told you guys why Baptists hate Clinton, right? 'Cause he got away with things that they don't even get to think about. It's envy, not righteous indignation. Tee hee!

Oh, and here we go... Gladly Suffering Fools: "Homophilia."

Speaking of which, Geoff at Sparkgrass is Not Happy about about early reports of the new guidelines for ministering to gay and lesbian Catholics. I've not read them yet, but if you want to get a jump on me, get to it.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

A Theology of Vestments?

Ordinary Time

Let's talk about vestments: specifically, the pretty frocks that priests and acolytes wear during the divine liturgy as it is performed by traditional congregations. Just to say, I realize that from the way I talk and write, folks often assume that I'm censing the high altar at a cathedral every weekend. While I certainly think that would be fun and poignant, I don't. I am, when it's all said and done, part of a house church. And alas, we have no liturgical dress, and won't be getting any anytime soon.

Why is special dress for the celebrant and assistants (essentially the "lead worshippers," if I might use the language of evangelicals) a good idea? I think the answer is both theological and anthropological. People engage in ritual for important observances. Particular modes of dress are part of that: it expresses reverence (or irreverence!) and makes the statement: "this is something extraordinary we're doing, and it deserves to be attended to in an extraordinary way." To simply refuse special rituals and dress for special observances is to make a particular political statement - one that I disagree with rather vehemently. When some people complain about liturgical dress, it sounds to me like, "Why should we act like the Eucharist is some kind of special observance?"

That being said, when I visited St. Aldates (Oxford) and a young woman ascended the platform in a sweater and jeans and started chatting, and by the end of the little speech she had moved into the prayer of consecration, I was shocked. It's not merely because she was wearing "civvies," or that the words she spoke were to some degree improvised and extemporaneous (I don't think there's anything wrong with those things as such), but because the way I "read" the entire action was, "I don't think this is a big deal, and you guys shouldn't think this is a big deal either." For a reason I can't quite put my finger on, it seems to me that in a larger, more "public" setting, reverence must be far more intentional than that to be really reverant.

At the same time, I never see the way hOME or VBCC attends to the Mysteries to be anything less than reverent - even though there are no vestments in sight. In the smaller setting - kind of public but actually quite intimate - full on eucharistic vestments would seem out of place. For some reason, I think that "simplicity" is reverant in a small setting, but irreverant in a larger one. Does that make sense?

As for the pastoral issue, let me explain that it's not "pretty frocks" that I'm really talking about. Priests generally wear stoles when performing priestly functions. Visualize a simple stole here, rather than a medieval carnival. I think it is at the very least pastorally useful because it makes the statement that the chief consecrator is functioning as a priest. In those moments, the celebrant isn't just my friend (let's call him) Bill, but Bill the priest. Bill's personality isn't erased (now, who would want that?), but ritual action and vestments are visual indicators of the theological reality that this man through his functioning as a priest empowers and even enables the people to present themselves to God in the Sacrifice. As chief consecrator Bill the priest has a divine authority to ask God to do what he does in that moment for the Church that has nothing to do with whether he's a nice man or if people like him. Vestments, then, are a kind of pedagogical tool to remind us that we're Catholics and not Donatists.

I guess I don't get all that hot and bothered about it (really!) because I know that someone can be both my friend and my priest, and that sometimes the most spiritually efficacious thing is that he is my priest. Some people complain that this creates a harmful division between clergy and laity. And for all of that, I'd think I'd answer that there's a difference between a clergy/laity "distinction" and a "division." It's not an Indian caste system, and if we let ourselves talk about it like it is, we only hurt ourselves. When we ordain people, we create a distinction. What we do with it, how we talk about it, how we understand it - that's the question. The distinction is there as soon as we say that one person can consecrate the bread and wine, and another can't. As soon as somebody is to any extent "in charge" or a facilitator of religious activities, that happens. Happily, it's the way of the Church to ordain people so that we can be upfront about it and learn to be healthy about it. I'm reminded of all the Baptists I've known who refuse to say they have a theology of ordination or even of ministry, but will affirm that the Holy Spirit comes upon the preacher when he enters the pulpit. Saying the distinction isn't there doesn't make it true, it just keeps us dishonest and schizophrenic in our theologies.

I have yet to meet anyone bothered by vestments whose church uses them. The people I hear protest (ahem) the loudest are in traditions and churches that do not, and would not use them. Why are those people so certain about what the practice means and what it does to people?

Update: See also Dr. Pursiful's post.

Technorati Tags: ,

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Books Again

Ordinary Time

One of the odd things about working at the bookstore is that really simple things can become difficult. One takes for granted the meaning of certain phrases that realy need to be expounded upon with the aid of charts and diagrams.

Customer: Do you have any copies of Book X?
Me [checking computer system]: No, I'm afraid we don't.
Customer: Why not?
Me [continuing to check computer]: My information describes that title as out of print.
Customer: So can you order it?
Me: No sir, I'm afraid I can't.
Customer: Well, you should carry more books by Author X.
Me: Of course, sir. We try our best. However, since Author X is local and uses small publishers with a small print run, his/her books tend to go out of print fairly quickly. The only thing I can get copies of is the newest book, Book Y.
Customer: Barnes and Noble could get it for me.
Me: No sir, they couldn't. I know that for a fact. I'm happy to recommend some local used book sellers, or some websites if you wish, but I'm afraid I can't help you any further than that.
Customer: No, I'll just go to Barnes and Noble.
Me [smiling cheerily]: Very good. Good day, sir.

Here's the thing. I am happy to spend 5-10 minutes with anybody who comes to the Help Desk, trying to hook them up with the book they're looking for - even when it doesn't exist. What I never do is stand and listen to someone pout that they can't get their way.

Another (apparently) painful experience of cognitive dissonance sets in when I have to explain to someone that the book they're so certain they need does not in fact exist. I always try to break the news gently. Interestingly enough, the older someone is (and presumably the more shaky their memory) the more certain a customer tends to be that they have the book's author and title exactly right.

Customer: Do you have the new book by Author A?
Me [checking computer]: Let me see. Are you sure it's not Author B (who shares a surname with Author A)?
Customer: No.
Me: I'm sorry, I can't find that name. Would you please spell the last name for me?
Customer: Well, it's not hard. [spells]
Me [thinking about how my education really probably does make me better than this person, then feeling slightly badly about it, then checking Google and Wikipedia to see what I can find out about "Author" A]: I'm sorry, but the only records I'm finding for Person A is either a cartoonist who died in 1951 or a recently retired Canadian MP.
Customer: Well, that's not him.
Me: Clearly. Do you know the title of the book?
Customer: [names an approximation of the title of the new and popular book by Author B, who shares a surname with Author A.]
Me: Yes, that's by Author B.
Customer: No, I'm sure that's not it.
Me: I'm sorry, but I don't believe the author you're looking for exists.
Customer: That's okay, I'll just go to Barnes and Noble.

Yah, we'll see how long they put up with either one of you.

You know, I'm pretty sure of myself. I'm a graduate student, and I've worked in a bookstore for many months, and as a library tech for a year. I was trained to catalogue this stuff. It's not a Master of Library Science, but it's not nothing. If I say a book does or does not exist, I'm right. If I tell you the best way to aquire a certain title, I'm right about that, too. Just that much - it's not exactly hard. I wonder if there's a T-shirt I can wear to get this idea across...?

It gets even more sensitive when I must interfere with the logic of "I think Book C should exist, therefore someone did write it and a publisher did print it, and all bookstores must therefore have it.

Okay, that's all.

Technorati Tags: ,

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Deconstructing Christian Clichés

If you will indulge me, I'm re-introducing a piece I wrote last Advent. Let me know what you think of the piece, and if you want to revisit the original discussion, click here. If you don't know me, let me introduce myself.

Ornery (adj.) : having an irritable disposition : CANTANKEROUS
- or·neri·ness noun

see also
Potter, Kyle: "We simply must kill any gods who are incapable of raising the dead."





Let's have a chat. I have been given the grace for the last eight years of my life to be apprenticed to Jesus in the fellowship of his Church. I love the way God sees us, and what he has made us. I am always learning to love us as we are, "warts and all." Note that I will not talk about Christ's Church as if it were somehow an institution or group of people who live separately either from me or from him. I have been baptized into him, together with everybody else who's been dipped or sprinkled or splashed in the name of the Trinitarian God. We're all bloody well stuck with each other. So understand this, if nothing else: any criticism I'm offering, I do so in the context of committment.

I want to make a suggestion about Christian clichés, some of the unfortunate phrases we use when trying to offer spiritual counsel to one another. Many of our Christian communities fail to provide a safe place to be real and vulnerable because of the unhelpful language that fills the air. When folks are threatened by the doubts and struggles of others, they will sometimes say things like
"Just give it over to the Lord"
"Just trust God"
"Have faith"
"Surrender more of your life to Jesus"
"Let go and let God" [Josh W.]
For many of you who have been raised in faith communities, it can be hard to realize how vacuous, how literally empty of meaning that these phrases are. Eugene Peterson suggests stronger language still in a discussion about "fear-of-the-Lord":
... There is ... something about the sacred that makes us uneasy. We don't like being in the dark, not knowing what to do. And so we attempt to domesticate the mystery, explain it, probe it, name and use it. "Blasphemy" is the term we use for these verbal transgressions of the sacred, these violations of the holy: taking God's name in vain, dishonoring sacred time and place, reducing God to gossip and chatter. Uncomfortable with the mystery, we try to banish it with clichés.

- Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology, 42.
It may not be immediately obvious, but when people offer these phases, these stock answers, it sends a clear and demoralizing message: "I don't take your struggles seriously, and I'm not prepared to muster the theological depth to share them with you."

This might be a harsh assessment, but this is a great problem, and worthy of such consideration. If you use these Christian platitudes, these unholy clichés in your care for your brothers and sisters, I urge you to carefully consider dropping them. If you find your friends using them on you, forgive them, then challenge them. Muster some courage and tell them you find those words to be theologically empty and pastorally cold. It's the only way we're going to grow and learn to struggle together.

Let's respect each other enough to never be satisfied with platitudes.

Instead, let's struggle together, ask God the hard questions, and learn the peace that comes with honesty. Truly, for Christ's sake and for the care of his Church, let's be honest.

For my part, I have offered my thoughts on four common Christian platitudes, with suggestions as to how we might replace them with more honest and clear attempts to tell the story of who we are in Christ Jesus.

Captain Sacrament's Antitheses
N.B.: These articles are not meant to be exhaustive treatments of the topics at hand, to say nothing of chapters in a systematic theology. They're talking points. Theology is a work of the people of God together. I can tell you about how I choose to talk about these things, but not in any definitive way how you should. That's for you to discern and share if you see fit. And if you do want to share, that's what the comments are for.

And don't forget to read the conclusion of the series, "And the Glory of the Lord Shall Be Revealed," in which I bring the discussion back to the Advent context - making space for our coming King.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Various Things

Ordinary Time
Philip, Apostle and Deacon


I'm back at LTS today. Before me rest several issues of the International Review of Mission, some recent Christian Century editions, a Bible, and Samuel Wells' Improvisation: The Drama of Christian Ethics. To which blogs or publications do you turn when you want book reviews in theology and popular religion? I just found Christian Book Reviews.

As Roger likes to say, "Kyle. Back to ecclesiology." We've been talking about how we've really got to do business with the Fathers, because they are the first interpreters of the Christian witness that would later become Holy Scripture. We can't just assume that we're going to read better or more faithfully than they did. However, acknowledging that the Christian tradition develops (and is to a considerable degree developed by the Holy Spirit!) doesn't mean it can't go back to go forward in some ways. Like the canon, or the creeds of the first five centuries. You can re-interpret, but you can't replace or re-write. Sorry.

(Finger wants to have an open discussion on that here.)

Roger says I'm just afraid of becoming a Baptist again. Maybe I am. Afraid, that is. I'll write more on that later.

Blake's offering more discussion on the liberalism thread. I'm pretty proud of this post, if you've never read it.

Jen and I have been discussing the nature of "testimonies." She's also introducing you to some of my favorite people in Oxford. I miss them so. *sniff*

Andy Goodliff cites Colin Gunton on renaming the Trinity.

I mostly don't talk about this stuff anymore, but Internet Monk just says it so well...
There is nothing I resent more than the insistence that I cannot find Jesus genuinely present in other traditions or in the lives of Christians with whom I disagree. The attempt to “launder” and purify evangelicalism down to a “100%” error free expression of the true church is a project I want nothing to do with. I do not need a theo-babysitter to keep me away from Christians, books and expressions of the faith that might be tainted. This is, in my view, little more than human pride and the desire for power over others expressing itself in the denouncement of all who are not identical to our own current level of understanding.

- "What is a Post-Evangelical?" (Part 2)
Holy cow.

Technorati Tags: , , ,

Monday, October 09, 2006

"Evangelicals and Catholics Together"?

Ordinary Time

Well, more or less.

Everyone, we have a new blog friend. Best behavior, now.

SaintSimon writes Normal Life Adventure, which is about just the things you might suppose. He's a Church of England ordinand trainee reader in the charismatic tradition (like evangelicals, only happy), and active in a parish. Since Anglians like to "round out" the churchmanship of their priests, he's doing a placement in a local Anglo-Catholic parish, which seems pretty dead (franky!). It's probably not the best advertisement for an unfamiliar tradition, but it sounds like he's making the best of it. He's expressed warm appreciation for the content here and at Elizaphanian, and contributes thoughtfully to discussions.

I recently asked him to share his reflections on his placement, and with his kind permission, I'm reproducing his comment here as a discussion starter. He definately comes at this stuff from a different direction than I do! I'll offer my responses, and I'd like to know what y'all think as well.
You are right that I would classify myself as Evangelical. I would say Charismatic rather than Pentecostal as it is less denominational.

To be honest, I am struggling at the ‘Oxford Movement’ church.

This Sunday I was asked to carry a chalice. I was told off for being in the wrong place in the procession, implying seniority over the licensed readers. I caused comment when I stumbled slightly while carrying the chalice. I got a bit muddled as to who was taking the wine. But these are peripheral issues. My main problem is that it seems to erect so many barriers between God and his people. ...
Wow. I'm reminded of what Jesus said about the Law being for the people, and not the people for the Law. And wasn't there something about choosing the lowest place at table? Ritual acts have purposes, and anytime the purpose is forgotten or that purpose is so unabashedly unchristian, the acts need to be dropped - at least in that particular context. I guess I just want to go on the record saying - and this as a sacramentalist who believes strongly in the value of a proper and ordered liturgy - anytime a "mistake" in the liturgy is worth getting upset about, there is a big spiritual Problem in somebody. Nobody has any business organizing a procession according to "importance." That's just gross. Same thing with "commenting" about stumbling. You don't want to drop it, they don't want you to drop it. It's not worth "comment." Some people do indeed have some disordered values.

And about dropping the chalice? Or the Host? As Endo wrote, "it was to be trodden upon by men" that Jesus came into our lives. He's cool with that. He knew what he signed on for, to be frank. We ought never to be cavalier about the Mass, but failing to get the choreography just perfect isn't about respect or disrespect. And more importantly, it is blasphemous to make a show of respecting the Eucharistic Presence to the exclusion of respecting Christ's Presence in my brother. Full stop.
I also worry that the object of the faith has been diverted away from our Lord onto the various symbols. I resent having to bow to a man-made wooden altar when I have a living Lord. It feels idolatrous. I resent the altar rail, when the veil in the temple was torn at the crucifixion. I resent the vestments setting apart some members of the church and creating an outward beauty which seems so distant from scriptural exhortations to make inner beauty the priority. I resent the raising of the circular wafer – reminiscent of sun-worshipping paganism. Etc. etc.
The purpose of Christian symbols is to direct both heart and mind to the Lord. Honestly, I try to keep this so much in mind, that I'm not sure what it would feel like to be really meticulous about the liturgy and not consider it to be a way of loving Jesus well together as the people of God. If it's not that, it's just stupidity. Honestly.

A catholic/sacramental theology maintains that anamnesis, "remembrance" in the biblical sense is a kind of "making present again." It's a reenactment of God's saving act in the present that both brings the acts saving efficacy from the past into the now, and is an invocation for God to continue that saving action into the future. When the Church gathers around the Eucharist, we are joined with the hosts of heaven, the angels, martyrs and departed elect before throne of God. If you're a science fiction fan (I stole this from Alan), you might think of it as offering a wormhole between heaven and earth. The Church is gathered in both places, and divine power is mediated to the Church through the Eucharist. When one bows to the altar, one is bowing to Christ. No thing at all, and no one else.

The altar rail, from what I understand, was a medieval invention meant to keep out chickens. And probably people. I don't like it myself, and don't have a defense for it.

As far as the vestments are concerned, I see them as a kind of uniform, that helps make the celebrant's personage fade and the action take center stage. I see it as a form of reverence. If that's not what's going on in a particular setting, it should probably all be abandoned in that time and place.

I'm pretty sure the Host is elevated because that's reminiscent of Christ being lifted up upon the cross, in turn reminiscent of Moses lifting up the broze serpent in the wilderness.
Also, although the popularity should never be the test of sound doctrine, why is there only 5 people in the congregation [not including the service team] on Sunday and Wednesday night? If reverence is the focus of the church’s worship, surely the first reverence is to actually turn up?
Ooo, burn. :0)
However, there is some good stuff – the way for the gospel reading the Bible is carried in procession to the centre of the church and the congregation stands to hear it – we need more reverence of the Bible in our church. And if I am OK with this, perhaps I can extend it to other things? But even so, surely reverence of the Bible consists primarily in doing it rather than just parading it around.
Again, definately, and I like your consideration of that. Liturgy is about enacting - performing - the faith in anticipation that it will give rise to further performances outside the liturgical setting. You know, like out there in the world.
I came to this church with a genuine desire to be open minded, and to learn, and to find out for myself rather than relying on prejudices passed down to me from my family background. For this reason I will be having a meeting later with the Sacristan who is keen on all his stuff and will explain its meanings to me. I still feel there is an opportunity for me to get under the skin of this thing and understand where it is coming from. I really don’t want to criticise something that is a true or at least acceptable expression of the faith. I don’t want to criticise anything that is genuinely given by God. Neither do I wish to teach as doctrines of God traditions of men that fly in the face of God’s intention. (Matt 15v9)
Sounds like that won't be a problem. Anybody want to chime in?

Saturday, October 07, 2006

"Fetish of the Family"?

Ordinary Time

Chasity is a sin qua non of lucidity and concentration. Any community capable of sustaining singleness as a way of life ... Yoder and Bonhoeffer both discover singleness is at the heart ... the most extraordinary thing that ... early Christians did that distinguished them from the Jews is that they didn't have to marry. I mean, you gotta remember that Jesus was not a good Jew. He was single, he walked around with twelve guys, you have to wonder whether he really understood his sexuality...

Followers of Jesus didn't have to marry. You may think, that was because they had negative attitudes about sex. They may have had negative attitudes about sex, but that's not why they didn't marry. The reason why they didn't is because you don't have to have a child to be a Christian. You don't have to have a child to be a Chrisitan, because we're an apocalyptic sect that grows by witness and conversion.

Just about every time Christians make a fetish of the family you can be sure that they don't believe in God anymore. It's because they don't want to witness to anyone about the truth of the gospel, they just want to make sure that their kids grow up thinking that they don't have another option but to go to the Reformed Chruch. Singleness is the absolute necessary correlative of the fact that the church is an evangelizing body that grows by witness and conversion. ... One generation God could call every Christian to the life of singleness and yet we believe that God would create the church anew through witness and conversion.

Think about what kind of community, What kind of practice that community must embody. Any community capable of sustaining singleness as a way of life must also be a community of trust made possible by speaking truth to one another...
- Stanley Hauerwas, lecture on the Sermon on the Mount. (Click here to download the mp3, the quote is from about 33:30)

Technorati Tags: ,

Friday, October 06, 2006

Today

Ordinary Time
William Tyndale


This has been a slow reading week. I promised I'd read and write about Spencer Burke's new book, but so far I disagree with every single premise he offers for his arguments. We'll see. Oh, this will be good. I've used my time to finally organize my lecture notes (all of them!) from college and grad school so I'll finally know where stuff is.

I finished Mary Doria Russell's The Sparrow at Brennan Hancock's recommendation. Really, how could I turn down something described to me as "Jesuits in Outer Space"? It's a good, suspenseful read. It's not as deeply philosophical as I thought, but it does raise issues of divine providence and tragedy. And really, for a good novel, what more could you want?

When Monday comes around, I'm going to start spending the mornings at LTS' library again.

As I mentioned earlier, Jesse and I made it to Georgetown for the Hauerwas lecture. He said the lecture, "Sacrificing the Sacrifices of War" was meant to honor combat veterans, and he spoke of the strange intimacy that comes with killing together, and how difficult it makes readjustment to civilian lives. Some military psychologists have talked about how marriages get destroyed afterwards because they cannot cope with the expectations of intimacy that were forged on the battlefield. I wouldn't have thought of any such thing.

The bottom line? Christians cannot appropriately make a sacrifice for a country or a cause. The one meaningful sacrifice for Christians was made by Christ at Calvary, and we are joined to that in the celebration of the Eucharist. Anything above that is a lie. Because Christ is the only sacrifice, we don't have to sacrifice ourselves for other competing narratives that seek to give our lives meaning. As he often says, the Church does not have a social ethic, the Church is a social ethic. We demonstrate that one does not have to kill, because we will not kill. Does that mean we won't be killed? Of course not. Consistant convictions will bring suffering, he says.

We had lunch with the Jaspers, Jarrod, and the Mullikins. It was a good time. So many people get all hot and bothered about religious convictions, that it was great to just sit back, talk about what had been said, debate, agree, and disagree without anybody being angry that someone disagreed. Nobody had to be assured that it was okay for them to talk, and nobody tried to preach. Not even me.

Pretty sweet.

Somehow I continue to fraternize with the dastardly PHAs. Zac Bailes came over for dinner the other day, as did the other Kyle (not a PHA). We prayed the hours like big ol' Catholics. I'm hoping he lets me put some cantankerous opinion pieces in the school paper. I need people to pay attention to me!

Today I'm reading, and working at the bookstore. Woohoo!

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Decisions, Decisions

Ordinary Time
Francis of Assisi


I've put off so many things in the last couple of months, trying to get these essays done. I have people to write, and much to write about! We're doing to do this "Choose Your Own Adventure" style. Remember those?

Here are some options:

The Academic. I could re-write the more interesting aspects of my work into blog-digestible bits; my essays were on (if you recall) Use of the Bible, Eucharistic Ecclesiology, and Mission and American Empire. I could also write some short book reviews.

The Communal. I've got some reflections rolling around in regard to living with people and living together as both "the Church" and "a church." No surprise there.

The Anecdotal. I can talk about what I do all day. This would be boring coming from some folks, but fortunately for all of you, I'm hilarious.

The Personal. I could reflect on my "spiritual pilgrimage" and make vague and tantalizing references to what a big ol' sinner I am. Also known as the "Dark Humor" option.

The Controversial. This one is pretty much just rants about Calvinists. But you know you love it.

Which do you like to read? Have I successfully summarized my typical genres? Any suggestions?

Technorati Tags: ,

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Rant

Ordinary Time

I'm writing today.

Time for a rant. Want to know how you can tell if a book on religion is utter garbage?

Clue No. 1. Have you heard of the publisher? Me neither. What's the publisher's philosophy and target audience?

Clue No. 2. Do the Amazon.com reviewers offering glowing appraisals of the book exercise great care to refer to the author by his (we won't kid ourselves) title? If you're talking about Understanding the Holy Spirit by "Dr. Doe" instead of "Doe," that means he's been picked up by a fundamentalist leader cult.

Folks used to stop me in midsentence when discussing politics: "You mean Doctor Dobson?"

Of course, it also bloody well helps if "Satan" is listed as a key player in the title...

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Working

Ordinary Time

I'm reading at LTS again today, with my boy Campbell. I'll write something inspiring around midmorning, but at the moment, I'm doing some hard thinking on the word ekklesia. And by "hard thinking," I mean "reading Rowan Williams."

In the meantime, enjoy the new quotes on my left sidebar.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Howl

Ordinary Time

When the church is true to its calling to exist as a separate polis, a radically alternative society that expresses its values through bodily practices, it will relativize the legitimating metanarratives of the Powers that Be - those stories that a culture of death tells in order to justify its own values and bodily practices.

Consumer choice is dark determinism
Megachurch means you will always want fries with that
Freedom is slavery

If your faith is a private and apolitical thing, you have been owned by the thing called America.

Housechurch people will be this generation's Beat Poets.

(If you're upset because you believe in Freedom, Calvin, or French Fries, direct your nasty letters and hate mail to Josh Hearne, the official 'Captain Sacrament' Criticism Reader.)

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Reading the Bible, Part II

Ordinary Time

What follows is my response to the kind and helpful comments from the last post. It got a little long, so I thought this would be better...

I think what I'm trying to draw out in the paragraph I've posted is that attempts to interpret a text that begin and end with the question, "What did the author mean to say?" are insufficient. To a degree, the text says what it says, and what it means is what I make up - even if I'm using the best methods of historical criticism and or being very pious and looking for a "plain meaning" in order discern authorial intent.

My point is that either way, the dominant hermeneutic is a reconstruction of Paul. Taking a cue from Adam, I mean that what really happens (instead of his more straightforward and optimistic formula), Author A authors Text X about situation Z and his audience discern significance Y. Historical criticism must try to reconstruct sitation Z (since Author A isn't interested in rehashing what both he and the audience knew) as well as any changes made to Text X, and from reconstruction of Z try to figure out the significance Y that the first hearers attributed to the text, and while we're at it, try to figure out what kind of fellow Author A really was. Through careful reading and reconstruction of all these things, the historical critic hopes to say that in it's original context, Text X had significance Y, and "whatever you guys think you can do with that, it's your business!" We must also remember that the critic assumes it's possible to nail this stuff down. I don't think it is.

(I think Rob's point is well made, that there can be a difference between the historical meaning of the text and the intent of the author - we can't always "get there from here"! Rob, am I reading you correctly? Or perhaps the better question is, reading you as you intended... :0)

The fundamentalist or Protestant reader, as Peregrinator points out, assumes and immediacy between the ancient and contemporary readings of the text. That reader assumes that a "plain reading" of the text will surrender its significance, and along with it both the intent of the author and the interpretation of the original hearers.

And then they will, as Adam suggests, "author A's meaning X can be legitimately said to have significance Y with respect to some contemporary situation Z just in case it is reasonable to assume that, given X, A would adopt Y if he were to confront Z." Because to them, it is always "reasonable to assume." When those steps are taken, Christian teaching and the reading of the present community is being determined by a reconstruction of the author.

Therefore, both the methodologically agnostic historical critical reader and the dedicate Protestant create (more or less) careful reconstructions of the author and then trust them when reading and interpreting the text - and often don't appreciate it when the model is questioned.

And this is all only in terms of the apparent theology of the biblical writers - it's about what those writers apparently thought was theologically true based upon our readings of the text. It's not like we can talk to them. What about what is theologically true, never mind what Paul or Luke or Matthew might have said about any of it? The historical critic will be adamant that it's none of his business (as Asher always says, theology is crap!), while the fundamentalist will say that only things (he's been taught to believe) that are laid down in the text can be theologically true.

James, this might sufficiently clarify my point, but come back at me if it doesn't.

This is why I think that canonical criticism has some important things to say: in a nutshell, that the Bible means what the Church says it means. Since we don't have direct access to what "God" says it means, our options seem to be to say that the Bible
  1. meant what the historical critic says it meant
  2. means what the lone religious intepreter says it means, more or less based on his or her reconstruction of Paul (or whomever)
  3. means what the Church says it means.
Canonical criticism acknowledges that the documents fit together in a canon, as Scripture. The point of the canon is to guide the life of the Church, both when they were written and still when they were canonized. In Robert Jenson's phrase, canonization was like a "republication" for the Church of the future. In the same way that you have to ask how the original hearers would have heard when you're trying to get at the historical meaning of the text, it is also legitimate to let the present hearing of the Church determine meaning here and now.

I'm not doing justice to the position, but I think I'd like your input from this point. To me it means that I don't have to do foolproof deductive and historical work to figure out what the biblical texts once and for all, "objectively" mean (because I don't think that's possible anyway), but rather, with the rest of the Church, try to listen faithfully to God speaking to the Church through the text and cooperate with his ordering of our life for the salvation of ourselves and the whole world.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Reading the Bible

Ordinary Time
Cyprian, Bishop and Martyr


Today I got up, made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, proofed my draft, ate lunch with (the other) Kyle, edited my draft, went to the store, and edited my draft. I'm about to cook dinner. Salmon briqettes, or croquettes, or whatever. Read this paragraph from my paper:
While not all practitioners of historical criticism have been sympathetic toward the church, the methods have encouraged readers to ask new and often helpful questions. Confessional reading often assumes that a theory of divine inspiration guarantees a ‘Word from the Lord’ that is immediately contemporary and free of ancient cultural distortions. Historical criticism has brought readers to take seriously the problem of the ‘two horizons,’ the distant gulf between original recipients of the New Testament and present-day readers. Instead of asking initially, ‘What does this text mean,’ interpreters must ask, ‘What did the author of the text mean, and how did the original hearers receive it?’ Historical criticism takes various forms. Textual criticism seeks to discern the earliest sources behind the final versions of the texts. Literary criticism seeks to determine the original use of those sources and locate the documents in particular times and places. Form criticism seeks to identify writings within particular genres for comparison, while redaction criticism attempts to trace the work of various biblical editors through history. Because the post-Enlightenment West highly values the idea of systematic, objective approaches to all disciplines, the academy has privileged historical criticism in biblical interpretation for most of the modern period. ‘Meaning’ is a matter of what the author wished to communicate, and to read something beyond that is to do violence to the text. Similarly, even churches considered anti-modern often insist that while a text does possess a contemporary meaning, it is a singular meaning determined by their analysis of authorial intent; even they rely on some form of historical critical reading.
It would make my point stronger if I could cite a particular book to demonstrate the part in bold, so:

1. Can you offer a book that makes this argument? If you can give me page numbers, that's better yet.

2. I'm essentially making the argument that a pious reading of the Bible which insists that a text has one meaning determined by the intentions of the author (and that we can somehow know what that is) is very near to being historical criticism by another name, and has every bit as much validity - which, depending on your viewpoint, could be a little or a lot.

What do you think of that?

Technorati Tags: ,