felix hominum

bodily resurrection

In some recent conversations, both online and at Dewey’s, the topic of “bodily resurrection” has been tossed around.   I want to touch briefly on this topic.  As I see it, there are a few standard ideas out there about this notion.   First, the idea that Jesus didn’t really (physically) rise from the dead – that the whole Easter/resurrection thing is more like a metaphor, a symbol if you will of generic new hope for a future.  There was no “living body” in the Easter story – it is simply a powerful metaphor.  We see this idea not only in the “secular” world, but also catch glimpses of it within circles of the church.

This to me does not engage seriously the doctrine of what Christians call the Incarnation – that God took flesh in the person of Jesus.   It seems to me that bodily resurrection is (if you will) the fulfillment of the Incarnation.   We Christians are called to acknowledge our existence as embodied creatures – and to acknowledge Jesus as embodied Godhead.   At some point the interpretation of the Scriptural stories comes into play.   I am not certain that one can be argued into belief in the bodily resurrection of Jesus.  It involves a movement of faith, which, like Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the son of God, cannot come from within (not by flesh and blood), but only from without (revealed by my Father in heaven). 

I find this position rather “hopeless”, if you will.  It diminishes the value of our bodily existence (modern gnosticism).

Others hold that there is some sort of resurrection, but it is a resurrection of “spirit”.   I am reminded of that TV commercial featuring an angel sitting on a cloud spreading light cream cheese on a bagel and declaring it heavenly.  Or the movie “Ghost” (American ripoff of its much better British counterpart “Truly, Madly, Deeply”).   There is a real afterlife, but somehow what we become are disembodied spirits with no physical reality.  Pop culture images of “heaven” or afterlife have reduced resurrection to a kind of existence of vapors who envy the “reality” of life which we enjoy here on earth.

This is the great myth of the materialist.   Only “this life” offers the full expression of what it is to be human.  Only “this life” gives us a chance to fully love, and be, and experience goodness.  Anything that comes after is somehow “less”.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.  Resurrection completes us as human beings.  It is a full life.  To borrow a simple image from one of the earlier commenters – can you imagine tasting redeemed pinot noir with redeemed taste buds?  A trivial example perhaps, but then again, perhaps not.  All the details of our humanity, bodily and incorporeal, are perfected in the resurrection we share with Christ.  We become (can I use the term?) “more” human, more real.

There are many other things to say – but can I say like St Paul – if there is no resurrection from the dead, then we of all people are most to be pitied.

resurrection of the body

Tombs in the Kidron Valley in Jerusalem, between the Mount of Olives and the Old City.   Visitors place small stones on top to mark their visits.   

Does the resurrection of the body matter?  A tangent prompted a bit  by some thoughts and questions over at dead apostle,  what exactly do Christians understand/ believe about all of this? Life/ death/ soul/ body.   

At sol cafe there is one section of Matthew's gospel left in the discussion series - death & resurrection.  Perhaps we  will look at this a bit more closely.

cs lewis:  "You do not have a soul.  You are a soul, you have a body." 

they asked for a paper (part 2)

"Augustine's View of Scripture in the Confessions."   They asked.  I agreed.  Different group requesting than last time.  Same God, though.

Portions of which I will publish here over the next little while as we work through this topic.   Let me begin with some bold undefended assertions - 

most modern people fail to grasp the Trinitarian structure of the Confessions, because (among other reasons), we have become lazy about grasping the Trinity itself.  God as Trinity is fundamental for understanding what Augustine is doing in the Confessions.

Augustine's relationship to Scripture is fundamental for his spiritual journey - as it is for ours.   Readers of the Confessions can trace the course of Augustine's Christian pilgrimage through examining his various ways of understanding what we call "Scripture" during the phases of his life.   These phases have contemporary echos, both in the institutional church and in individual lives.

[It will be rollicking.  There will be a half time intermission after Augustine's conversion, with what some might call a "kegger".]

Nature, Hurricanes, and the National Geographic

A week or so ago I was at Adam's Lake, BC.   (there's a nice pic below somewhere).  There was an old national geographic magazine.   Inside was an ad with large print:  "In the 20 century, we conquered nature;   in the 21st century, we'll help preserve it."

It seems that we have two equal and opposite errors when it comes to "nature".   Either we reduce it to a slave, or we elevate it to a god.   Either it is in need of our constant intervention and subjugation, or we tend to divinize it and it needs our constant worship, as if it were perfect.

Because of hurricane katrina, people pull out the same questions that they have asked for centuries:   "why did God allow this to happen?"   "couldn't he have stopped this?"

Where is God in all of this?

"Nature" proves to us that both of our errors are folly.   We have no real "control" over nature.   Neither is "nature" somehow the perfect and benevolent  "creation" which is depicted in the garden of Eden.   Somewhere along the line (I would suspect what we call the "fall" had something to do with it), this thing called creation (and behold it was very good) became this thing we have come to call nature.

[part one of several]

Scripture and the straw man

I asked the question this morning:  does anyone know what the term “straw man” refers to in a debate or discussion?  No one knew, so let me give an example.  For those who were not there, we were having a discussion on homosexuality in a class on marriage and human sexuality.  While there were a variety of opinions in the class, I just want to highlight what I think are a few basic principles involved in having discussions on this topic in the current church.

There is a tendency toward “straw man” arguments in these conversations.  For instance, in the course of the class a “scriptural argument” was presented on the conservative side based on Genesis and on Jesus’ quotation of Genesis in the context of marriage in the Gospels.  Another “argument from scripture” was presented on the more liberal side.  This argument focused on deconstructing the prohibitions in Leviticus and an interpretation of the story of Sodom, and an interpretation of Romans 1.   Is this an example of the straw man argument?   Instead of addressing the interpretation of Genesis and of Jesus’ use of Genesis in the gospels, this position addressed other texts, ones which were not used (or intended to be used?) by the presenter, or by the most thoughtful proponents of a conservative position.

So we have a classic example of the straw man argument:  “Conservatives say x,y and z, based on these texts which we are quoting.  We can bring an argument against these texts, therefore the conservative position is not tenable.”   But what actually happened was that the conservative position was not based on those texts, and an argument addressing those texts was not presented.   The liberal argument defeats a straw man.

Of course it works "both" ways.  A conservative position can build up a false presentation of what the liberal side is arguing.  For those in the class, below are two pieces which highlight some of the other parts of the discussion.

the third temptation

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; and he said to him, "All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me."  Jesus said to him, "Away with you, Satan! for it is written, Worship the  Lord your God, and serve only him.'"

“All these I will give you”.  Wait a minute.  Who said they were in your power to give?  Can you really deliver on this promise?  Or like the first temptation in the garden, is there a lie?   

This tells me something about the nature of temptation:  it always offers a false promise of something it can’t really deliver.  All temptations contain a promise, and a falsehood:  you shall be like God, knowing good and evil.  You will not die.

Temptation becomes sin when I chose to believe and act on the lie.  After all, the lie is a pretty good lie – it is convincing to me.  Lust promises love; pride promises self-worth; greed promises security and plenty;  sloth promises rest and peace.  Temptation knows what we want; it just offers us cheap imitation of the real thing.   

And temptation uses that word “all” – “All these I will give you”.  How much do I really need?  How much money?  How much food, how much shelter, how much comfort?  Temptation is never satisfied, and neither are we.  We always want more, we want all.

How we live tells us who or what we truly serve and worship.

on making up Jesus as we go along

One of the things that in my pettiness tends to annoy me is mistaken identity.  I think we have all had the experience at one time or another of someone coming up to us and saying “Oh, you are so and so.”  Occasionally someone will ask me how things are going at the hospital.  To which I kindly reply that I don’t work at a hospital – I work as a chaplain at the University of Alberta, which happens to have a teaching hospital.  Other people work in the hospital – I work with students.   

Most of us have run into people who think they “know” us.  Our opinions, who we are, what we like or dislike, what things are important to us.   And it can either be amusing or frustrating to hear other people’s thoughts about us.  To be honest, we do that to others as well.  I learn a few things (or I think I do) about a particular person, and then in my own mind I make up the rest as I go along.  But after a bit of real conversation with the actual person, I begin to realize that the made up picture of a person doesn’t bear too much resemblance to the real person.

I sometimes wonder if Jesus is the victim of the same way of thinking.  We know (or think we know) a little bit about him, and we just make up the rest as we go along.  We stop engaging him in conversation, and so we do not get very far in knowing the real Jesus.  I want to know the real Jesus – not the Jesus of my imagination, or the Jesus based on a few opinions of mine – but the real Jesus.   

How does anyone know who I am?  They can guess a few things (often accurately) from observation.  I am so tall, I wear a wedding ring (he must be married),  I sometimes have nasty bits of pablum on  my collar (he must have small kids).  But to truly know me, I must chose to reveal who I am.  And you must be willing to believe me.  Otherwise, you will cling to your notion of who Joe is, and never get to know the real Joe.  It is the choice of believing what is revealed,  leading to relationship with a real (rather than imagined) person.

Who  the “real Jesus” is, must be revealed  to me.  By the real Jesus.  And I must chose to believe  what he reveals, whether it fits with my preconceived notions or not.  Revelation is the first step in any honest and meaningful relationship.  How does he reveal who he truly is?

"It is written"

the second temptation

Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, 'He will command his angels concerning you,' and 'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"

Of all the places Satan could have chosen to have this second temptation, he chose the temple, the holy place, the place of worship.  I suppose that Satan knows as well as you and I that ‘church’ is not exempt from sin and temptation.  And so Satan takes Jesus to church.  And Satan does what is quite natural in church – he quotes the Bible.  After all, doesn’t the bible say these things? "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, 'He will command his angels concerning you,' and 'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"

What is the temptation here?  It is the temptation to use the things of God for our own purposes.  The temptation to use the Scriptures, the Temple, the Church, for my own private agenda or goals.  Why is the temple there?  Why is the church there?  Jesus knows that it is God’s temple, not ours.  And we would do well to remember that this is God’s Church, not ours.  It is no accident that Satan took Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple – perhaps the higher up you go in church, the greater the temptation becomes to use it for one's own purposes.   

But the temple, like the church, is not mine, and it is not yours.  It is first of all God’s.  And we cannot manipulate God, or use God as a tool, for our own purposes. The Church is not there to serve my private agenda, whether frivolous or noble.  It is there for the purposes of the Kingdom of God.

Jesus said to him, "Again it is written, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the  test.'"

the first temptation

The tempter came and said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread."

More on this later, after I've had lunch.

Ummm...that was good...

Many people talk about the “if” in this temptation, as though Satan were trying to cast doubts on Jesus’ identity.  That may certainly be the case, but the temptation begins with something more than a question of Jesus’ self-identity.  Satan does not ask “If you are divine”  or “If you are truly God and truly human” or “If you are the Messiah”.  Satan questions Jesus’ relationship to God.  “If you are the Son of God”.  It is a question of relationship.  After all, that is what temptation is designed to do – break our relationship with God and with one another.  It is not merely about my self-identity, it is about my relationships.  Don’t we use this “if” word all the time?  If you loved me you would do this;  if you cared you would have noticed.

So Satan asks Jesus to turn stones into bread.  A reasonable thing – after all, Jesus is famished.  We all need to sustain our bodies.  This is the second part of the temptation.  It is a temptation to think only of our physical selves.  That we are nothing more than our bodies, a complex of neurons and sinews and chemicals – we are only physical creatures - and so we should only satisfy our physical selves.  We forget what a human being is.

There is a another, subtle element to this temptation – Satan says “command” these stones to become bread.  Do it just because you have the power to do it.  Use force, use coercion, make it happen by sheer might or power.  It is the temptation to use one’s ability or position or power arbitrarily.  Make it happen.  But a Jesus who forces things to happen is not a Jesus worth following.  Jesus will not force or command the stones to become bread.  Just as he will not force anyone to follow him.  He will not force anyone to love him.  He will not force us to become like him and follow him – he invites us.

"It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"

Augustine's Confessions

One of those "you had to be there" kind of things.  If you weren't there, just pretend you are overhearing some out of context conversation, and dismiss it immediately.

Augustine's Confessions  are not a spiritual autobiography.  It is anachronistic to call it that, and an imposition of a modern category on an ancient work.  Even the so-called autobiographical section is not so - Augustine starts with infancy in general, moves to his own life, and completes bk IX with an account of Monica's life and then her death.  What moderns fail to understand is the Trinitarian structure of the work.  [I-IX];  [X];  [XI-XIII].  Viewing it as autobiography will leave the reader puzzled as to the content of the last four books, and why they are included.  Instead, we need to think of how the structure of the work reflects the whole argument presented.  The first part deals with the doctrine of the Father, the second part deals with the doctrine of the Son, and the third part deals with the doctrine of the Spirit.  And within each section there are triads built into the structure.  Augustine is not talking about himself primarily - he is attempting to present an argument for the Trinity; by understanding the relationship of each section of the Confessions to the whole of the work, the reader grasps the nature of the development of Augustine's doctrine of the Trinity at this stage of Christian thought.

That being said, perhaps I need to add another category to my archives.  Somehow "mildly theological" seems a bit of an understatement for this one...

ouch

The joys of Heaven are, for most of us in our present condition, ‘an acquired taste’.

CS Lewis, The Problem of Pain.

community and revelation

I'm honored to have been invited by my good friends to be a guest preacher at Holy Trinity Anglican this coming Sunday.  We are in the midst of Epiphany season - that time after Christmas when we are reminded to let the baby Jesus grow up, so that we can too.  It is a time when we reflect on how we get to know who Jesus is - who he truly is.   Which raises the questions - how do I know who anyone is, and how do they know who I am?

I can learn something of God, and something of Jesus, and something of each human being I encounter simply by observation, and I can learn more by being around them, and even more by living with them on a daily basis.  But the core truth is this:  a person is only truly known as they choose to reveal themselves to others.   We can only know God as he chooses to reveal who he is.

As a community of believers, do we reveal ourselves to one another?  It seems to me that we are selective (and I suppose in some cases rightly so) about how and to what extent we reveal our true selves to those around us.  Is it fear?  Is it pragmatic?  Is it a lack of trust?  In part I think we fear what others will do - how will they respond? 

We are known fully and loved fully by God;  we are known partially, and loved partially, by others.

The church is a community built around revelation - the choice on God's part to show us what he really is.  How well do we imitate this aspect of God's character?  Perhaps our deepest, most satisfying relationships and friendships need to mirror this quality of God - the revelation of who one is.

For another topic, Jean Vanier  once said that love is "revealing to a person their value". 

Creation vs Nature

More incomplete thoughts...

Ever since I was a kid, I can remember the face of David Suzuki.  He was one of the first scientists to help us as a culture rethink our relationship to what has come to be called “the environment”.  He brought popular attention to such issues as pollution, use of natural resources, and survival of species under threat of extinction.  He has contributed a great deal to our awareness and action on many important issues.  Yet I have seen many of my peers elevate this refound respect for “the environment” into a statement about “Nature” – as if somehow Nature as we experience it and see it operating is in itself somehow perfect.

Our language bogs down our thinking.  Christians often use the terms “creation” and “nature” as if they refer to the same thing.  They do not.  Some commentators in the media have referred to the recent tsunami as an “act of God.”  I suppose a case can be made that it was, but I believe a stronger case can be made that it was not. 

Creation was (and is) an act of God.  Creation itself was an act – God’s will was perfectly expressed in the creation – “it was very good”.  What God desired and what God allowed to happen were one and the same.  Is the “Nature” we speak of today the same thing as the “Creation” spoken of in Scripture?  Or is it not?

If we believe that Creation is simply Nature as we experience it, we are left with a god for whom any event in nature is an expression of what that god desires and what that god allows to happen. Such a god would have to be held completely responsible for any and every event in nature.  Not only on a large scale, but in every instance.  Such a god would be actively responsible for all of nature – as if every event in nature perfectly reflected the desire of such a god for our world.  I believe this is not the case.  Such a god would then want nature to revolt against humanity.

It is the underside of the slogan “God made me this way”.  It is an assumption that everything that appears in physical nature is exactly what God desires.  It is a mistaken phrase.  For it assumes that nature (including humanity) is exactly as God desired and intended it to be.  It is mistaken on two grounds.  It does not understand the difference between Creation and Nature; between what God desires, and what God allows.  It is a poor pastoral response to that part of humanity which suffers because of the difference between creation and nature. 

“God made me this way”.  If I have a genetic predisposition to cancer, can I say “God made me this way”? – as if this was God’s perfect and final desire for me?  If I have a birth defect of some kind, can I take comfort from the phrase “God made me this way”, or can I use that phrase to give comfort to grieving parents?  Here is your child – “God made him that way”.

How do I know the difference between that which God intended in “Creation”, and that which I now see and experience in “Nature”?  I know very little, but somehow I think I must at least start to figure out the difference.

God made me this way

Toward the end of Tuesday's class we were getting around to thinking about that whole question - which is a big one.  I'll put up something over the next few days about that phrase, how it's used well and poorly, the permissive and active will of God, and all those other things that came up, tying together a knot of monstrous proportions.

Advent is upon us

Now that I have sat down to do some work on this Sunday's tasks, I ask myself the question:  what is the difference between the season of Advent and "the time leading up to Christmas"?  I am sure we have lost all  sense of God doing things in His own time.  Like the birth of the Messiah Jesus. 

While Mary probably had some notion of when the birth would occur, I think we would get more out of Advent if we had a lottery each year to determine what day Christmas would be.  Instead of Christmas being on the 25th each year in predicatable fashion, we could simply have someone announce a day during December.  With the management of time and tasks and lists of things to do as Christmas approaches, I think we have generally lost sight of how God suddenly breaks into our world.  How do you plan and prepare for God to show up?

By the way, the readings this week speak of the end times, not the beginning times.  Why should we start off Advent  - a time of preparing for the birth of Jesus -  thinking about the ends of things?  I suppose in some way I am reminded of the fact that ultimately our beginning, like our end, is in the hands of Someone else.  Birth and death alike remove the illusion of control that we so dearly love.

view from St Joe's

During the course of an afternoon session @ St Joe's College, the discussion turned to the varying answers to the contemporary attittude of "God made me this way" as a reason, a justification, or a positive statement of blessing for who we are and how we choose to live. Lots of sides to take in these kinds of discussions.

Underlying the "God made me this way" statement (at least as it was raised at the time) is what I have come to call the Suzuki worldview - somehow nature has come to be seen as perfect, and anything that appears in nature must then have "God's seal of approval". Sometime tomorrow we shall apply wrenches and ratchets to this worldview and see how it works inside.