The Internet Monk Archives

Ancient-Future Faith (3): The Church in a Postmodern World

During my seminary education, I never felt we really addressed the question: “What does it mean to be a member of the church” Later, when I turned to the early Christian tradition and began, for the first time, to understand what it meant to be a member of the body of Christ, it was like removing blinders that had covered my eyes.

I learned from the early Fathers that the church is intrinsically connected with Christ and his victory over the power of evil. The church is therefore to be regarded as a kind of continuation of the presence of Jesus in the world. Jesus is not only seated at the right hand of the Father, but is visibly and tangibly present in and to the world through the church. This is an incarnational understanding of the church. It is a unique community of people in the world, a community like no other community because it is the presence of the divine in and to the world. This concept of the church has specific relevance to the world of postmodernism.

. . . What this means for the church is that Christians must recover the primacy of being a Christian community. . . .

. . . the church is the primary presence of God’s activity in the world. As we pay attention to what it means to be the church we create an alternative community to the society of the world. This new community, the embodied experience of God’s kingdom, will draw people into itself and nurture them in the faith. In this sense the church and its life in the world will become the new apologetic. People come to the faith not because they see the logic of the argument but because they have experienced a welcoming God in a hospitable and loving community.

– Ancient-Future Faith, pp. 70-72

Robert Webber thought that the church in the U.S., particularly evangelical churches, had inherited two major problems which he attributed to Enlightenment or “modernist” thinking:

(1) The problem of pragmatism, which led denominations and congregations to either follow business models so that the church might become “successful” (i.e. an efficient and effective organization), or to follow political models which seek to assert their will in society over against other subcultures.

(2) The problem of individualism, which has led to an a-historical stance. As a result: “the church has been unknowingly shaped by social, political, and philosophical forces: democracy and capitalism have given rise to the rugged individualism expressed in the fierce concern for independence among many of our autonomous churches; denominationalism has reflected the social divisions of society; the industrial movement has produced wealth and, with it, the church has become a landed institution, a corporation wielding economic power through heavy investments; and Enlightenment rationalism has robbed the church of its mystical self-concept, so that it is now regarded as little more than a human organization made up of individuals” (p. 76).

Webber advocated a restored ecclesiology: a renewed theological understanding of the nature and practices of the church as described in the N.T. and writings of the post-apostolic era.

He saw the church as “the sign of Christus Victor, the community of people where the victory of Christ over evil becomes present in and to this world” (p. 77).

As the people of God, “the church is the continuation of the presence of Jesus Christ in the world and a sign of God’s presence in history” (p. 78)

The church is an embodiment and foretaste of the new creation.

As the fellowship of faith, the divine presence takes “form in a new fabric of human relationships” (p. 79) in which people share a common life and do not live according to the divisions and boundaries that normally separate people in the world.

The church is the body of Christ, “an essential continuation of the life of Jesus in the world” (p. 81). In contrast to “the body of death” — the humanity that stands in solidarity with Adam, the church represents “the body of life,” a community that represents the beginning of the recapitulation of all creation. The church is “a new society that acts as the sign of redemption to the world” (p. 81).

These are heady and idealistic descriptions. In Ancient-Future Faith, Robert Webber is less interested in giving practical counsel to congregations than he is about reminding us all of the big picture, the calling of the church in the world.

In some of his other books, he goes into more detail about renewing the church’s worship (Ancient-Future Worship), her experience of a common life in the gospel through the practice of the Christian Year (Ancient-Future Time), and her approaches to evangelism and spiritual formation (Ancient-Future Evangelism).

This book, on the other hand, outlines the theology behind the practices, and seeks to show its renewed relevance in a postmodern context.

Webber concludes his meditations on the nature of the church by saying:

In a postmodern world the rational arguments for the existence of God are cold and lifeless. But a community of people who allow themselves to be interpreted by God’s saving event in Jesus Christ and become formed as a true and living example of a local and universal oneness will speak volumes to the world about the saving Christ who dwells within them.

. . . This approach to the church as a “metaphysical presence” is the strongest kind of apologetic to the reality of God in a postmodern world. (p. 90f)

* * *

P.S. As a complement to this post, I recommend reading Chris Smith’s piece: Why I Stopped Going to Church.

Ancient-Future Faith (2): Christ for a Postmodern World

For he has made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of his will, according to his purpose which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fulness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

– Ephesians 1:9-10, RSV

For in him all the fulness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

– Colossians 1:20

* * *

In Ancient-Future Faith, Robert Webber argues that the dominant portrayal of Christ in the classical era of church history — that of Christus Victor — speaks powerfully to two problems posed by living in a world influenced by postmodern thinking. First, it challenges and provides an answer to the claim that there is no unifying principle in life and in the world. Second, it directly addresses the problem of “a universe full of violence and unpredictability” (C. Jencks). Christus Victor acknowledges the reality of the strong powers of chaos and corruption and then proclaims that Jesus Christ has defeated them by his death and resurrection.

When I discovered the universal and cosmic nature of Christ, I was given the key to a Christian way of viewing the whole world, a key that unlocked the door to a rich storehouse of spiritual treasure. (p. 40).

In this part I explore the classical understanding of the cosmic Christ, the Christ who stands at the very center of the universe, the Christ who gives meaning to all of life. And I will also explore the problem of evil as it is related to the work of Christ. Classical Christianity affirms the centrality of Christ to all creation and offers a distinct way to deal with the problem of evil. It sees the presence and power of evil in society as the impact of original sin, which permeates all the structures of existence. But it rejects the “original blessing” of postmodernism which teaches that millions of years of evolution will bring the creation and humanity to its perfection. For classical Christianity the original blessing is the second Adam who by his redeeming event has entered into history to reverse the effects of original sin. He alone has bound, dethroned, and will ultimately destroy all the powers of evil and will restore the created order. This is the gospel that frees and liberates us to be ecologically active [i.e. free to work for the flourishing of all life and creation]. (p. 40-41)

Each era has its dominant view of the work of Christ. Robert Webber gives a simple (actually, simplistic) overview discussing how the early perspective of Christus Victor eventually became subsumed in the Western Church under the interpretation of Christ as a Sacrifice. A third view, which became the main perspective of theological liberals in the modern era was that of Christ as Example. Very generally speaking, in the modern era most evangelical and conservative Christians have understood Christ in terms of his sacrifice, while more liberal members of the church have focused on Christ’s teachings and the moral influence and exemplary nature of his work.

Furthermore, Webber claims that the rationalistic ethos of the Enlightenment has led the church to move the person and work of the victorious Christ and a more event-oriented perception of the world out of the center and replace that with a more Bible-centered approach to the faith on the part of both evangelicals and those they labeled “modernists.” Not recognizing their own enmeshment with modernistic thinking, evangelicals for the past 150 years in particular have too closely equated faithfulness with defending the Bible and advocating a book-centered faith. Webber had his own Copernican revolution in this regard when he came to see that, “The mystery of the person and work of Christ proclaimed is the starting point of faith, not rational argumentation that seeks to prove the Bible to be correct” (p. 46).

Robert Webber traces the theme of Christus Victor through the New Testament and the post-apostolic writings, emphasizing that these highlight the teaching of recapitulation — that all things in heaven and on earth will be restored because of the redemptive work of Jesus Christ. He agrees with Paul Lakeland, who wrote in Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragmented Age:

Theologies of redemption . . . offered only to the human race, and not something integral to the entire universe . . . are inadequate. Those that focus on the individual are positively harmful. Christologies that imagine Christ as less than cosmic are merely parochial. Theologies of the church that stop at the political, still more so those that remain ecclesiocentric, fail because they cannot conceptualize Christian discipleship in the service of a sick planet. Eschatologies that imagine that the spiritual can have a reality aside from the material are simply naïve.” (quote in AFF, p. 27)

One thing I appreciate about the way Robert Webber approaches this — and it explains why he became an Episcopalian, with its emphasis on learning theology through liturgy — is his emphasis on how the “experience of Christ as the victory over the powers by the primitive Christian community was first expressed in its worship” (p. 56).

It was this Christological/doxological insight that led him to become such a great teacher and spokesperson for liturgical renewal in the evangelical church. For one like Webber, who grew up in low church, Bible-centered forms of the faith, whose family fought on the front lines of the fundamentalist vs. modernist and fundamentalist vs. new evangelical controversies, who received his schooling in fundamentalist and conservative institutions, the beauty and power of Christus Victor reenacted in the church’s liturgy expanded his conceptual world dramatically, lifted his spirit into the heavens, and set him on an entirely new course in his life and vocation. I am not trying to over-dramatize this, but it reminds of me of what happened at Isaiah’s call. Seeing YHWH high and lifted up in the sanctuary, his glory filling the earth, changed Robert Webber’s life and his life’s direction.

Having read most of Webber’s books in the past, it is now interesting to me to see his insights bearing fruit.

For example, when Scot McKnight wrote The King Jesus Gospel: The Original Good News Revisited, I wrote a review commending Scot for his wonderful clarification of the fuller, deeper, richer, and broader gospel message. The New Testament does not gives us the individualistic, “soterian” gospel he writes about, but a robust proclamation of good news in Christus Victor that leads to the re-creation of all things. Scot included a chapter on “Creating a Gospel Culture” in that book and in my review I suggested that a lot more work needs to be done in the churches to make that happen. As an example of someone who had laid wonderful groundwork, I brought up Webber: “Robert Webber discovered this forty years ago, and his body of work is eloquent, consistent testimony to the fact that the historic practices of ecclesiology, liturgy, and spiritual formation are centered around Jesus and the Gospel” — that is, the full-bodied “King Jesus Gospel” Scot wrote about.

[By the way, Scot was just ordained as a deacon in the Anglican church this past weekend.]

I also mentioned the contributions of N.T. Wright:

And where do we think Tom Wright’s incredible insights about the Gospel come from? Of course, he is a wonderfully gifted historian and student of the Bible, but he is also deeply invested in the life of a historic, liturgical, sacramental church tradition. I sincerely doubt that his groundbreaking insights about a storied and communitarian Gospel could have emerged from the kind of non-denominational, free church tradition that I have known throughout much of my Christian life.

These and other developments in biblical studies and theology today hearten me. On the other hand, I believe these insights are creating a moment of potential renewal for the historic traditions, and I wonder if they are poised to get the message out and welcome newcomers in. I wonder if these traditions, especially within mainline Protestantism, can hear the cosmic Christ who died and rose again to make all things new in heaven and on earth. He’s knocking at the door (Rev. 3:20). He is waiting for us to raise our eyes and see him high and lifted up, enthroned “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come” (Eph. 1:21).

Ancient-Future Faith (1): Faith in a Post-Modern World

13385780335_ca0d0b2eb6_z — Stations of the Cross path, Gethsemani Abbey

Introduction
This week we will discuss portions of a classic book by Robert E. Webber: Ancient-Future Faith: Rethinking Evangelicalism for a Postmodern World.

In conjunction with these posts, you might want to review a series we did back in August, 2010 called, “Three Streams in the Post-Evangelical Wilderness.” One of those streams we identified as “The Ancient-Future Path.” We identified Robert E. Webber as the “father of the ancient-future path,” and discussed various characteristics that have become apparent in the past forty years or so in the church here in America. Here are links to those posts:

The four characteristics of this path that I identified in those posts were:

Ancient-Future is about embracing a theological perspective of “classic Christianity”.
Ancient-Future is about maintaining a vital, organic, respectful connection to our Christian history and heritage.
Ancient-Future is about restoring a robust doctrine and practice of the church and her authority in the life of the faithful.
Ancient-Future is about practicing liturgical wisdom and integrity in our worship.

The late Robert Webber was one of the strongest voices urging Christians to embrace the Ancient-Future way. His book, Evangelicals on the Canterbury Trail: Why Evangelicals Are Attracted to the Liturgical Church, described his own pilgrimage and the journeys of others who left various forms of free-church evangelicalism to seek fellowship in broader, deeper, more ancient, and more ecumenical church traditions. Webber did not say that all believers should do this. He did, however, urge Christians to become more aware of church history and tradition and to ground their theology and practices more firmly in the kind of faith we have received from our ancestors.

Continue reading “Ancient-Future Faith (1): Faith in a Post-Modern World”

Lisa Dye: Hanging Up My Magic Wand

“The results of prayer are not dependent upon the powers of the one who prays…”

– O. Hallesby

My family will tell you that in my moments of extreme helplessness and frustration, I have been prone in the past to stamp my foot. Very little girlish, I know. Fortunately, the foot stamping has not been accompanied by tantrums or displays of temper. It has simply been my expression for a desire to fix something I can’t fix.

My family must have grown weary of this and wanted a more sophisticated expression for me. Two years ago at Christmas, they gave me a magic wand … specifically a replica of Professor Dumbledore’s wand from the Harry Potter story. It even lights up when I am waving it.

I can hear some of you now. “How witchy and evil. She’s gone over to the dark side. I’ll never read another thing she writes.” Fair enough. I have thought and said such things as well. For a while, Harry Potter was not welcome in my house, but at some point I realized that I grew up without any bans on books, enamored with myths of the King Arthur and Merlin legend and only loosely attached to any church. Yet, I hungered for God … perhaps in spite of those things … perhaps precisely because of those things. Good stories reflect the Divine Storyteller and moral imaginations are not formed on the one-dimensional plane of ignorance and innocence. Just think of all the murder and drunkenness and adultery and witchcraft and polygamy and gross family dysfunction depicted in Scripture. Evil juxtaposed against God’s goodness creates drama, yes, but it also creates a demand for discernment … though that is a debate for another day since I have a completely different point to my story.

It has to do with how we Christians use prayer like magic wands. I was actually in mid-wand wielding when that thought occurred to me. To provide some background, the year has been a frustrating one health-wise for my husband. Last spring, he spent my birthday in the hospital ER getting treatment for an acute, painful, non-life-threatening, though plenty expensive ailment. A few weeks later, he fell while working outside and the resulting surgery sidelined him from his normally physical job for a few months. In December, he got the flu and came close to a hospital stay during its worst. Recovery took over a month. Then, during the Midwest’s umpteenth snowstorm, he fell on the ice and broke two ribs and violently jolted other important innards, causing some serious complications. That night, I waited on him with food, medicine, hot tea, ice bags, blankets and everything I could think of to relieve his suffering. It was to no avail. He was in terrible pain and I felt completely helpless and mentally berated myself because I had cut short my praying that morning to be at the office early. Maybe he fell because I had not covered his comings and goings properly as I have a habit of doing. Maybe his year of accidents and ill health reflected spiritual slovenliness on my part.

In that moment of frustration, I grabbed Professor Dumbledore’s wand and waved it, lighted tip and all. My husband smiled a little despite his pain. He knew I was telling him I wished to make him instantly better. That moment of frustration was also a moment of growing revelation. It dawned on me that my 38 years of daily, continual, earnest … or maybe anxiety-filled intercessions for my people, was little more than incantation passing itself off as prayer.

Continue reading “Lisa Dye: Hanging Up My Magic Wand”

Saturday Ramblings, April 26, 2014

Hello, imonkers. I hope you are enjoying your spring.

First up to bat: Chaplain Mike’s Chicago Cubbies celebrated the 100 year anniversary of Wrigley Field on Wednesday. If you know Cub history you will not be shocked to learn that they lost. After taking a three run lead into the ninth. And being one out away from victory. And the opposing team all batting with blindfolds. Okay, I may have made that last one up.

Shannon Morgan really wants people to know she doesn’t believe in God. But the state New Jersey Motor Vehicle Commission denied issuing her a license plate reading, “8THEIST”. So she is suing, aided by Americans United for Separation of Church and State. Also in the Garden State (snicker), a humanist group is suing a school district for requiring students to recite the pledge of allegiance with its “under God” statement. Unlike most previous lawsuits against the God clause (which have argued the clause violates the U.S. Constitution’s ban on the establishment of religion) this one contends the pledge violates a state constitution’s protection against religious discrimination. Of course, the God clause was not added until 1954, when congress decided they needed a bulwark against “godless communism”. I’m wondering if we really need a pledge at all. Your thoughts?

A Louisiana lawmaker has scrapped his bill which would have made the Bible the official state book of Louisiana. Rep. Thomas Carmody said the bill was not trying to establish a state religion, but rather “to educate people.” But he yanked the bill because it had become a “distraction”. Whoa, who could have foreseen that?

“Do you hear me ladies? It is an abominable idolatry to love your children more than you love your husband, and it will ruin your marriage. And yet you blame it on him because he ran off with some other woman! He did run off with some other woman, and you packed his bags. All of his emotional bags, you packed for him. Is that true in every case? No, but it’s true in the vast preponderance of them.” This from a sermon by Pastor Det Bowers, who happens to be the main primary challenger to South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham.

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings, April 26, 2014”

How Old Was Jesus When He Died – And Does It Matter?

Some matters are not straight forward as they might originally seem. For all we know about Jesus, there is a lot we do not know. The Bible, for example, tells a grand total of one story about his childhood. Jesus’ age at his death is not known with any great certainty, and there is much conflicting information, both Biblical and Historical which makes this difficult to determine. As we have just finished Easter, I thought it would be a good time to discuss these difficulties, and why they may or may not matter. (Some of this material comes from an earlier post I did at EclecticChristian.)

Issue #1. How old was Jesus when he died?

Traditionally, Jesus is said to be about thirty three years old when he died. This date is calculated by beginning with the statement in the Gospel of Luke that states that Jesus “was about thirty years old when he began his ministry.” (Luke 3:23) John’s Gospel mentions three Passovers, so the assumption is that he was about 33 when he died. This is the most direct evidence that we have, so it is the dating that is most commonly accepted and used.

However, we do have another early source for Jesus’ age. The Church Father Irenaeus claimed that Christ was about fifty when he died (Against Heresies II 22:5). His primary argument was that this information has been passed down to him by way of John and the other apostles. We should point out that Irenaeus is a very credible source, a disciple of Polycarp, who in turn was a disciple of the |Apostle John. As such, he is only one generation removed from direct contact with the apostles. Irenaeus was a church bishop who penned this information in his books “Against Heresies” sometime between the years 182 A.D. and 188 A.D. At the time he would have been in his sixties.

So why does this inconsistency occur. Well it probably started with conflicting information about when Jesus was born.

Issue #2. When was Jesus born?

6 A.D.. Luke tells us that it occurred during the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria. (Luke 2:2) According to Josephus( Antiquities 17.355 & 18.1–2) Quirinius was governor of Syria 6-7 A.D.and conducted a census in 6. A.D. (which Luke is aware of and mentions in Acts 5:37).

Prior to 4 B.C., likely around 7 B.C. and possible as early as 9 B.C. Matthew tells us that Jesus was born during the reign of Herod the Great (Matthew 2). Herod the Great died in 4 B.C. Herod ordered the killing of all boys under the age of two. (The Magi would have taken a while to arrive.) As some time had to pass between Jesus birth and Herod’s command, and some time had to pass between Herod’s command and Herod’s death, we can likely date Jesus’ birth to at least two years before Herod’s death. Tertullian tells us that then census at the time of Jesus birth had been taken by Gaius Sentius Saturninus (not Quirinius). Saturninus ruled from 9-6 B.C. This information fits with the Matthew passage.

An initial resolution of Conflict #1 and #2. Luke is not certain of Jesus’ age. This is clear by his use of the word “about”. Luke we have to remember is not a direct eye witness. If he is basing Jesus’ age on the incorrect census, then he would be underestimating Jesus’ age by about 12 years. This would help to resolve much of the discrepancy between the calculations based on Luke’s Gospel and Irenaeus. Much, but not all, for there is still much more conflicting information.

Issue #3. The dating of the ministry of John the Baptist.

We do have some fairly precise dating for the start of the ministry of John the Baptist. Luke does not give us a calendar date but tells us that John began his ministry in the desert during the reigns of several individuals and at the time of two high priests.

Luke 3:1-2 “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar—when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of Iturea and Traconitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene— during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the desert.”

Tiberius Caesar started his rule in 14 A.D. which meant that John started his ministry about 29 A.D. This date fits with the dates that we know for the others mentioned in this passage.

The conflict comes when we look at when John the Baptist was beheaded? We know that John was imprisoned by Herod Antipas (also known as the Tetrarch) for criticizing Herod for marrying the wife of his brother. Herod was already married to Phasaelis, the daughter of Aretas IV Philopatris King of the Nabataeans. So Aretas didn’t like what Herod was doing either and so waged war against Herod, defeating him in A.D. 36. The Jewish historian Josephus noted that many Jews thought that the defeat of Herod Antipas by Aretas was as a result of “a punishment upon Herod, and a mark of God’s displeasure to him” for killing John the Baptist. (Antiquities 18 5:2)

Here is where the numbers start to get a little tricky. Pontius Pilate, who presided over the trial of Jesus, is sent to Rome in early 37 A.D. to answer to charges that put down viciously put down a Samaritan protest. He arrives just after Tiberius dies in March of 37 of A.D. (Antiquities 18 4:2)

We know from counting Passovers that Jesus’ ministry continues for at least a year and possibly two after the beheading of John the Baptist. Because of the dates of Pontius Pilate, the latest that Jesus’ crucifixion can occur is 36 A.D. This would place the end of John’s ministry in A.D. 34/35. To try and move the date of Jesus crucifixion much earlier would cause issues with the dating of John’s ministry.

This of course gives John a public ministry of 5-6 years, longer that what one would assume from reading the scriptures, but not in any way in conflict with it.

We know that Jesus’ ministry had begun roughly a year before the death of John the Baptist (again using Passovers as a dating method.) Let us assume then, that Jesus’ ministry began in A.D. 33/34. This would fit with what Luke believed, as he thought that Jesus was born in 6 A.D and would make Jesus “about 30”. If Matthew is correct, Jesus is much older, possibly 40-43 years old when he begins his ministry, and 43-46 years old when he is crucified. Hmm. Starts to look a little more like Irenaeus’ statement.

Issue #4. Paul’s ministry.

I have seen some pretty varying dates for the start of Paul’s ministry. Typically it is dated between 33 A.D. and 36 A.D. These dates assume an earlier crucifixion of Jesus and so conflict with a possible later date for the crucifixion. There is however direct evidence in Paul’s writing that dates his conversion to 37-40 A.D. Not long after Paul’s conversion, as recorded in Acts 9, he escapes from Damascus by being let down the outside wall in a basket. 2 Corinthians 11:32-33 states that this happened during the rule of King Aretas. Aretas was given Damascus as a settlement by Caligula around 37 A.D. He died in 40 A.D. Using this later date for Paul’s conversion resolves any conflict with a later date for Jesus’ crucifixion.

Issue #5. Other verses to consider.

Note what the crowd said to Jesus in John 8:57.

“You are not yet fifty years old,” the Jews said to him

The early church father, Irenaeus, was the first to point out that you don’t call someone nearly fifty when they are only in their thirties.

There is one other interesting verse that “possibly” speaks of an older age of Jesus. The Apostle John records the following conversation:

The Jews then said, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days? But he was speaking about the temple of his body.

The temple began its reconstruction in 19 or 20 B.C. Add 46 years to that date and it takes you to A.D. 26 or 27. These dates don’t make sense, because we know that John the Baptist only began his ministry in A.D. 29. This could mean one of two things. Firstly either Jesus had a ministry that lasted 10 years which began in relative anonymity two to three years before John the Baptist, or the other option that some have suggested is that the conversation was misunderstood, and the 46 years is in fact a reference to Jesus’ age at the time. While John has this conversation at the beginning of his Gospel, in the other Gospel’s Jesus does not talk about his death until just before his final days.

So what does it matter?

Thirty-three or forty-three or forty-six of fifty? Does it matter? It doesn’t really. How old Jesus was is not really that important. None of the creeds express it, no theology is built upon it, no one is going to burn you at the stake for having a view that differs from the norm. However, the fact that there is so much written about Jesus is important. He was a historical figure. He lived, he died, and many witnesses saw him alive after his resurrection. His life, his death, his resurrection all leave us with a choice. A choice to choose to follow, trust, and appropriate his death as a penalty paid for our own wrongdoings, or a choice to do nothing, to continue on as if Jesus Christ doesn’t really matter.

His age. It doesn’t really matter. In the end it is just a bit of interesting speculation. But all the information that was written about him shows that Jesus was not, and is not, some type of fictional character. His claim to be the Son of God, demands a response, and that response has eternal consequences.

As always, your thoughts and comments are welcome.

Memo to Tim Challies: The War Is Over

Tim Challies represents the mindset of far too many Protestant Christians who have little understanding of the Roman Catholic church and who continue to recycle old, tired, and often incorrect ideas about the church’s teachings and practices. Without any authority but his own opinion, Challies has decided to issue a public statement calling Pope Francis a false teacher. He includes the current Pope in a series examining such historic religious notables as Arius, Joseph Smith, Ellen G. White, Norman Vincent Peale, and Benny Hinn. Interesting group of names, huh?

At any rate, here is Tim Challies’ unequivocal judgment about the Pope:

For all we can commend about Pope Francis, the fact remains that he, as a son of the Roman Catholic Church and as the leader of the Roman Catholic Church, remains committed to a false gospel that insists upon good works as a necessary condition for justification. He is the head of a false church that is opposed to the true gospel of salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. The core doctrinal issues that divided Protestantism from Catholicism at the time of the Reformation remain today. The core doctrinal issues that compelled Rome to issue her anathemas against Protestantism are unchanged. Rome remains fully committed to a gospel that cannot and will not save a single soul, and officially damns those who believe anything else…

I am not going to take this post to try and “answer” Challies’ assertions about what Catholics believe. That would playing into the new calvinists’ game. For them, it seems, true religion is all about argument. It’s a matter of “contending for the faith” — and by that they mean insisting upon absolute purity when it comes to the dogmas of systematic theology. The leading teachers in the movement have theological “talking points” as refined and repeatable as any master politician and they will not get off message. In their view, Roman Catholicism equals “false gospel,” “false church,” “works salvation,” the Mass as a false sacrifice, Mariolatry, a false eschatology that includes purgatory, and so on. And of course, in criticizing the church and Pope Francis, Challies emphasizes one point above all: “But no false teaching is more scandalous than his denial of justification by grace through faith alone.”

If you want to read one well written response outlining how Challies fails to grasp Catholic teaching about justification, I suggest starting with Francis Beckwith’s post, “Tim Challies says Pope Francis is a false teacher, but misunderstands Catholic view of justification.” Beckwith gives good insight in his article, but I’m not convinced his approach is the best way to answer the Tim Challies of the world. Talking “at” each other in cyberspace and lobbing dogmatic theological statements back and forth doesn’t seem productive to me.

As my friend John Armstrong says:

When Catholics and Protestants engage in the polemics of theological polarities they quite often misrepresent one another. In the process they miss the deeper fruit of real ecumenism in doing confessing Christian theology. Non-theologians often do this more poorly because they adopt the views they have been taught by their favorite teachers and then treat them as the gold standard.

John, once a dyed-in-the-wool calvinistic separatist, is now at the forefront of encouraging people to participate in “missional-ecumenism,” which includes doing theology together, talking with one another, and studying side by side rather than lobbing theological grenades back and forth across no man’s land at each other. I encourage you to read John’s blog and follow some of the remarkable events he is setting up where people of Christian faith from different traditions listen to one another and talk about the faith. Here is his own testimony:

When the Holy Spirit revealed to me the truth of John 17:21 I felt I had no choice but to commit the rest of my days to humbly learning from other Christian traditions and teachers. Both my theology and practice necessitated a more humble epistemology and a deeper personal tone anchored in love. I did not jettison what I believed. I opened my mind and heart afresh to “seeing” truth in a far different way, a way that led me to listen more carefully and respectfully to the global catholic church. I realized that over the centuries the faith has been debated and understood and far too much of our history has been about pursuing truth without grace. But I am reminded that the Word was himself “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). If I was to faithfully follow Jesus my life should more nearly be one where grace and truth were both present in abundant measure.

This is also one of the traits I have always loved about Internet Monk. The blog itself is named for a Catholic: Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk and one of the greatest spiritual writers of the twentieth century. Michael Spencer regularly featured book reviews, interviews, “Liturgical Gangsta” discussions, and guest authors that fairly represented Catholicism. He didn’t spout talking points about Roman Catholicism, he talked with Roman Catholics. He never swam the Tiber and he maintained strong doctrinal and ecclesiastical positions as a Protestant, but he did come to peace in his thinking about Rome and it irked him when people would promote the shallow stereotypes Tim Challies sets forth in his article.

I’m happy to say we at IM today are committed to continuing that approach. We love it when Martha helps us understand Catholic church teachings and history. We rejoice with our brother Jeff Dunn, who says one of the best things in his life right now is his move into the Catholic church. Damaris, whose family likewise joined the Catholic church in recent years, is especially good with giving us perspective on Catholic moral teaching and spiritual formation. I consider Our Lady of Gethsemani my go-to place for silence, prayer, and contemplation (and bourbon fudge, of course). We direct readers to great Catholic bloggers like Ryan McLaughlin and encourage study at sites like Bibliaclerus, which are in our links and on our blogroll.

So, Mr. Challies, there are plenty of examples out there of better thinking and more beneficial approaches than you take in your article calling Pope Francis a false teacher.

As far as I’m concerned the war is over. Of course, there is plenty to talk about, many areas of debate, and much work to be done to clarify the faith. But we are on the same side. So much has changed in the Roman Catholic church, especially since Vatican II, that it is ridiculous to rely upon old, tired formulas and stereotypes and to think we are accomplishing anything worthwhile by continuing to hide behind thick walls of separation. To do so is not only shoddy thinking, but it is also uncharitable to our brothers and sisters in Christ and unhealthy for our own spiritual well being. Ecumenical dialogue, theology, and mission has come a long way. I encourage you to put down your sword and shield and invite a few well-informed Catholic brothers and sisters to the table. Get to know them. Interview them. Have question and answer sessions with them. Review their books. Have them write posts for your blog. Don’t automatically label them, listen to them.

I like my friend John Armstrong’s description for what we need: “a deeper personal tone anchored in love” that “listen[s] more carefully and respectfully to the global catholic church.”

I also continue to take C.S. Lewis’s iconic illustration of the Great Hall and rooms from the preface of Mere Christianity as my fundamental perspective on questions like this. No one is suggesting that we have to give up our own rooms wherein we find fellowship and fuller agreement. I’m just saying we should also spend some time in the Great Hall together, recognizing and welcoming one another as fellow Christians. We may and indeed do differ significantly in our convictions and practices, but in the Great Hall can’t we find a place to mingle, unthreatened by each other and open to learning from each other? And when we do go to our own rooms, can’t we take Lewis’s reminder to heart?

When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still In the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house.

iMonk Classic: Icebergs, Onions and Why You’re Not As Simple As You Think

From April 24, 2008.

“My theology is simply what I read in the Bible.”

Sure it is.

“What I believe and practice is simply what the Bible teaches and nothing else.”

Of course. What else could be simpler?

I’m sure several of you won’t be surprised at all to learn that I meet with a pastoral counselor on a regular basis. It’s one of the best things I do. We talk about all sorts of things, and we’ve developed a very beneficial dialog around many of the the issues that are part of a Jesus shaped spirituality.

Almost every time we meet, one of us will wind up saying that human beings are far more complex than anyone realizes. And that goes double for our view of ourselves. We’d like to think that we’re quite simple in our motivations and behavior. Our self-description is almost always biased toward “what you see is what you get,” even when we are well aware that such is not the case.

Working with a counselor constantly reminds me that there is far more to what I feel, perceive, think and do than I ever recall at any moment. It’s not unusual for me to leave my counselor’s office with fresh illumination regarding memories, events and various influences that have contributed to who I am. Insights into my family of origin, primary experiences as a child, uncritical acceptance of some proclamations of reality, even manipulation and brainwashing: all of these may appear on my radar after a session with Bob, made obvious by our conversation and God’s Spirit.

What’s stunning is that all of these things were no less part of me when I walked into the office, totally unaware of their existence and influence. Where were all these things before? With me and part of me, but unknown to me.

Think about that. It’s just as true of you.

If I ever tell you that all I do is just read the Bible, then believe and do what it says, you have permission to laugh at me. Pay a small fee and you can smack me and say “What’s the matter with you?”

I’m an iceberg, an onion, a mystery. I’m complex and rarely insightful into myself. Thousands of experiences co-exist in me at the same time. I’m a library of presuppositions and passively accepted versions of the truth. When I write a post, preach a sermon, respond in a conversation or give advice to a student, I am anything but simple. I’m complex and only partially aware of that complexity.

This doesn’t mean I can’t understand the simple statements of the Bible or believe and act on them with integrity. It does mean that I need to stop talking about myself as if I am a blank slate, and begin accepting myself as a human being.

I am a person on a journey. That journey has been rich and diverse. It began before I was born. It’s gone on when I was aware and unaware of all that was happening to me. I’ve been shaped by God through a variety of influences, and in one way, there is a sacredness to how God has chosen to shape my life. At any moment that I present myself to God, I am accepted as the “iceberg” of known and unknown influences that make me ME.

I don’t need to fear my complexity. I don’t need to ignore it or misrepresent it. There’s no point in speaking as if my understanding of truth is unaffected by all that preceded this moment and what is going on at this moment.

The Holy Spirit works with us as the human beings that we are. “Search my thoughts O God” is an invitation for God to work with me and all that makes me a person at this moment.

Is this an endorsement of some postmodern skepticism toward propositions? Is it another emerging denial of truth?

No. It’s simply an observation that I don’t “just” read the Bible and do what it says without bringing along all my personal influences and multiple layers of my personal history and experience.

There’s a reason certain ideas appeal to me, others are uninteresting to me and some never will make sense to me.

There are reasons I’ve come to the “obvious” conclusions that I have.

There are reasons I perceive some truth and can’t see other truth.

There are reasons my understanding of being a Christian falls easily towards some things and is repelled and conflicted by others.

I am complex. I have a history. I have influences. I’m not a robot. I am a person.

Knowing God’s truth is always a miracle of the Holy Spirit. I’m beginning to appreciate that more and more as I come to understand all that’s made me the person I am today.

Another Look: Easter Is a Season, Not a Day

First Published April 4, 2010.

Many of us in our Christian traditions learned to celebrate Christ’s resurrection on a day — Easter Sunday.

Easter is the great Lord’s Day, the climax of Holy Week, the high point of the Christian Year, marked by an explosion of color, wafting fragrance of lilies, majestic sounds of organ and baroque trumpets, bright new clothes, formal dinner with the family. A blissful Sabbath! Our little ones receive baskets of candies and toys, hunt for Easter eggs, strap on patent leather shoes, dress up like little ladies and gentlemen. We take their pictures out in the yard framed by the early blooms of spring. Women wear hats to church, white gloves. Even the men adorn themselves in pastels. This is the one Sunday we sing, “Christ the Lord is risen today! Alleluia!” The choir resounds with joyful praise. Everyone smiles. Such a happy day!

And then it’s over.

In the non-liturgical churches I have served as a pastor, the time after Easter was one of the few lulls in the year. For families, it formed the season between spring break and May, which where I live has become one of the busiest months of the year, with spring sports in full swing, summer sports like Little League beginning, end of school and church year programs, graduations, weddings, holidays like Mother’s Day, college students returning home, outdoor projects getting into full swing, and of course, here in Indianapolis we have all “the month of May” – activities leading up to the Indy 500 race. After the Easter event, and before the month of May, we had a period of relative quiet.

As an evangelical (and an American), it seems to me that I was always taught to think in terms of events. Events can be strategized, planned, advertised and marketed, organized, staffed, set up, prayed for, executed, cleaned up after, reviewed and evaluated, and followed up. It is a typically business-like approach. A well-run event can make a big splash, leave a lasting impression, and play a crucial role in forming a group of people into a community.

However, as I have more seriously considered the practice of the liturgical year, I have been challenged to think more in terms of seasons than simply in terms of events. Seasons force us to face the “dailyness” of life rather than simply its special points.

It is like the difference between a wedding and a marriage. Or the birth of a baby and learning to care for an infant.

We love Christmas, but it is in Advent that we learn to long and pray day by day for Christ to come. And it is in Christmastide (the days following Christmas) that we take time to gaze with wonder into the face of the incarnate baby Jesus, to do as Mary did, “treasuring all these things in her heart.”

And so it is with Easter. Easter is a season, not just a day. On the Christian calendar, the period that begins on Easter Sunday is called “The Great Fifty Days,” “Pascha,” or “Eastertide.”

Writing in The Complete Library of Christian Worship V, Marjorie Proctor-Smith says,

Celebrating Easter for fifty days is a Christian practice almost as ancient as the annual observance of Easter. …The term Pentecost was first used by Christians to refer to this seven-week period as a unit: “the Pentecost,” or the fifty days. It was only later that the term was applied to the fiftieth day, at which time then the fifty days was called the Easter season.

The importance of this period for the ancient church is reflected in the language used by early writers wen speaking of it, and the practices which their comments reveal. Tertullian refers to the period, which he called the Pentecost, as a laetissimum spatium, a “most joyous space” in which it is especially fitting that baptisms take place. Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, write an annual “Festal Letter” to the church in which he announced the date of Easter, which “extends its beams, with unobscured grace, to all the seven weeks of holy Pentecost.” In every letter Athanasius emphasizes the centrality of the Easter observance for Christians, speaking of the fifty days especially as a time of joy and fulfillment: “But let us now keep the feast, my beloved, not as introducing a day of suffering but of joy in Christ, in whom we are fed every day.” It was, quite simply, a “Great Sunday” which lasted for seven weeks, a week of Sundays, wherein the church celebrated on a large scale the resurrection of Christ. “All of Pentecost,” writes Basil of Caesarea, “reminds us of the resurrection which we await in the other world.”

Seeing Easter as a season rather than a day might help us grasp more fully the meaning and implications of Christ’s resurrection.

What a wonderful season in which to study the post-resurrection appearances! The ascension! The promise of the Spirit! The new covenant!

To lavishly decorate our sanctuaries and celebrate Christ’s resurrection with exuberance for seven Sundays rather than just one!

To have “Emmaus Road” Bible studies that show how all the Scriptures point to Jesus and his finished work.

To celebrate the Lord’s Supper more often with a specific focus on Christ’s promise that we will share it new with him in the coming kingdom.

To teach sound eschatology that grounds people in the Christian hope and the coming of the new creation.

To explore the “Great Commission” the risen Christ gave to us and to practice “going and telling” the Good News of our risen Savior in various ways throughout our communities.

To regularly celebrate baptisms and hear testimonies of those who have experienced new life in Christ.

To hold special meetings for prayer as the disciples did, asking for God to fill us anew with his Holy Spirit that we might become more fully and joyously engaged in his mission in the world.

Many Christians assume that Easter is commemorated on just one day. It is an event. After it is over, we move on to something else.

But this cannot be. We are Easter people! The first Sunday of Easter is the beginning, not the climax of the season.

As the disciples grew in their understanding and love for the risen Christ over the great fifty days when he arose, appeared to them, ascended into heaven, and poured out the Holy Spirit upon them, may we too experience Easter throughout the entire season to come!

Monday Monkery – Day after Easter Sunday Edition

Pastor Dan, who does our weekly iMonk Saturday Ramblings, got Holy Saturday off this past weekend so that he could focus on all the special services he was participating in. I remember those marathon occasions from when I was a pastor and I’ll be very surprised if Dan’s not sleeping in today. And tomorrow. But never fear, he will return renewed and refreshed this coming Saturday to resume rambling.

To feed our readers’ appetite for links and laughter in the meantime, today we’ll engage in a bit of Monday Monkery — post-Easter Sunday style.

We hope you all had a blessed Easter weekend, without any of the terror you can see in the eyes of the children to the right. We’ll show another of these delightful family memory pix in today’s post, but if you want to see a whole set of them in all their glory, check out 17 Nightmare-Inducing Easter Photos You Can’t Unsee. [You can find several “scary Easter sites” like this around the web. They send a chill, huh?]

Here’s a note to help you sync your calendars. You might want to plan for all the upcoming years when Easter falls on April 20, which also happens to be known as Weed Day or 420, celebrated around the world by pot smokers. So Christopher Ingraham at the Washington Post’s Wonkblog has performed an invaluable service by writing: Here’s how many times Easter will fall on 4/20 in the next 1,000 years. As for me, I have set aside each April 20 to pray, “Remember not the sins of my youth.” These days, I’m inhaling incense at the Easter Vigil.

Here’s my favorite of the master Easter eggs I missed this year — a true work of art. It pays homage to the metal sculptures of Swiss artist Beat Zoderer by layering multicolored chocolate strips around an 875-gram Brazilian dark chocolate egg. Hermé has made 15 of the eggs, which retail for $290. This is but one example of a number of artistic masterpieces created by France’s top top pâtissiers and chocolatiers. You can see them in all their glory at: The delicate and utterly mouth-watering art of world’s master Easter egg makers.

From highbrow eggs to megachurch madness: Matthew Paul Turner’s article, Can’t Fill the House On Easter? Try Handing Out Gadgets, discusses how “so many churches are going to such great creative and promotional lengths to capture our attention, setting attendance goals, adding services to their schedules, hoping that, if we’re one of the millions of Americans looking for a church to attend on Easter Sunday, we will choose their church as opposed to another church. Because for many churches, in addition to Easter being about Jesus, it’s also about getting you inside their doors.” Pop culture themes seem to be, well, popular, as churches “brand” their special seasons. One example is ACF Church in Eagle River, Alaska, who are basing their Easter services around The Walking Dead, the wildly popular zombie show. Well sure, why not?

Maybe they should just invite this guy. Or not.

“And while we’re at it [this bit of background information from Ted Olsen at CT], the Easter Bunny comes from these pagan rites of spring as well, but more from pagan Germany than pagan Britain. Eighteenth-century German settlers brought “Oschter Haws” (never knew he had a name, did you?) to America, where Pennsylvania Dutch settlers prepared nests for him in the garden or barn. On Easter Eve, the rabbit laid his colored eggs in the nests in payment. In Germany, old Oschter lays red eggs on Maundy Thursday. If anyone knows why children in an agrarian society would believe a rabbit lays eggs, please tell us or a historian near you. We’re all dying to know.”

Now this is one Easter tradition I know my boys and I would have enjoyed when they were growing up. On the Greek island of Chios rival parishes mark the evening before Orthodox Easter by firing thousands of rockets at each other’s churches, trying to ring the other congregation’s church bell. No kidding, this is a blast to watch! According the BBC, they spend months making the rockets by hand. Then comes the celebration, known as “rouketopolemos”, when parishioners from Aghios Markos and Panagia Ereithiani fire the handmade fireworks at the other’s church bell towers. The winning village is the one which scores the most direct hits on the other’s church. You can watch a brief BBC News report of the battle here, or this extended YouTube video. Megachurches ain’t got nothin’.

And oh that Luther, always finding new ways for Christians to have fun. According to Lizette Larson-Miller, a Loyola Marymount University theology professor who specializes in the history of religious practices, “Some believe Martin Luther was the first to suggest that the men in the household hide eggs in their gardens–representing the garden of Christ’s tomb–for their wives and children to find.” Wait — the wives got to hunt eggs too?

Finally, Pastor Dan can rest easy knowing the plastic eggs his church will drop by helicopter for their annual Easter egg hunt won’t break on impact. Apparently, creating “indestructible” Easter eggs for helicopter drops is a growing and competitive market. Only in America.

But that’s not the only problem with helicopter drops. Better plan for that crowd, Dan, or you might have to issue an apology like the city of Dunedin, Florida did last year…