The Internet Monk Archives

Pete Enns on Christians and the Old Testament

This post was first published on Peter Enns’s blog, Rethinking Biblical Christianity, on July 29, 2013.

* * *

When Christians run up against interpretive challenges in the Old Testament – like killing Canaanites to take their land or the meaning of the Adam story vis-à-vis science – a common way of handling these challenges is to make an appeal like:

“Yes, but we can’t just look at these passages on their own terms. We have to keep the whole Christian canon in mind and see how the Gospel affects our understanding of this Old Testament passage.”

I agree, pretty strongly in fact, that Christians now read the Old Testament in light of the entire story, which finds it climax in Christ. I’ve written a bit about that, and my two commentaries (Ecclesiastes and Exodus) are attempts to flesh this out in detail.

But we need to remember what we’re doing when we read the Old Testament in light of Christ – what we are committing ourselves to, hermeneutically speaking.

The very declaration “We need to read the Old Testament story in light of Christ” is an implicit acknowledgement that the Gospel-lens through which we read the Old Testament changes what we see; changes what is “there” on the plain-sense level. The Gospel drives Old Testament interpretation beyond what it means when understood in terms of its ancient tribal parameters.

In biblical studies, “midrash” is the word often used to describe the transformation of the meaning of biblical texts by later communities of faith. Midrash (a Hebrew word) is tricky to define. Generally, I define midrash as an approach to the text that goes beyond and beneath the “plain meaning” of the text for the purpose of addressing some difficulty in the text or bring that past text into conversation with present circumstances.

Handling biblical texts this way was a staple of Jewish biblical interpreters beginning after the exile – beginning already within the Bible in 1 and 2 Chronicles, which utterly reinterprets Israel’s history in light of the exile and failure to reestablish independence as before.

The Persians were now running the show – followed by the Greeks and then the Romans (with a relatively brief period of Jewish independence in between).The older biblical traditions – which presumed an Israel that was settled in the land, with king, temple, and sacrifice – needed to be brought into a troubling and challenging present.

Here is the irony: respect for the texts of the past was expressed in terms of transforming them to speak to present realities.

Continue reading “Pete Enns on Christians and the Old Testament”

The Homily

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands, your walls are ever before me.” —Isaiah 49:15,16

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”—Matthew 5:3

For the last week, I have been babysitting my grandkitties while my daughter and son-in-law are on a slightly belated honeymoon trip. I realize the degree of controversy that could arise from the mere mention of cats. The topic might follow close on the heels of sex or politics. Some people just plain dislike felines … and I understand. I myself have an exuberantly joyful yellow Labrador and a very grumpy orange cat that costs me a lot of money and literally bites my hand as I feed her. Which one do you think I like the most?

But back to the grandkitties … specifically the one who is a young kitten named Joey. Yes, he is rambunctious and curious and into everything. I have had to do more to kitten-proof my home than I’ve ever had to do to make it safe for children. He is beginning to blossom into good health after a rescue from a bad situation and if cats could express gratitude, he seems to do so with all his waking moments by a happy attitude and lavish affection. He also seems to know he is utterly dependent and is unashamed. When he is hungry, he cries for me to feed him. When he is wedged in a tight place or has climbed so high he is afraid to jump, he cries for me to rescue him. Sometimes he’s just “lost” behind a curtain. He can’t see me, so he cries out of loneliness.

Much of the time Joey’s out living life and exploring all the ins and outs of an unfamiliar home, but eventually he gets tired and wants to be held. As I write this, he has crawled onto my lap squirming and purring and struggling to find the perfect place to settle down and rest with his body in the crook of my arm and his head pressed against my heart.

I have no animosity toward the other critters in my home. There are some who only want me to feed them, but to otherwise leave them alone. I oblige them. But how can I forget the one who so desperately longs for my attention and needs my care? My daughter described him as a “street rat” she rescued with food, shelter and medicine. I have thought much about that. It’s who I am as well. I used to think I was someone special … or at least that I had the potential to be so. I was going to bless God by being good and the world with … well, I don’t know … something.

Over the years, I have come to the truth of it. I am also a street rat, a prodigal son, a Pharisee, a self-righteous young ruler, a Judas, a harlot, a leper, a woman bleeding and bent double. God forbid that I should tell him to feed me, but to otherwise leave me alone. I am desperate for him. All of my spiritual gyrations are really just me squirming and struggling to find the perfect place to rest against my Abba. I am poor and we both know it, yet engraved on the palms of his hands.

Let us pray.

Saturday Ramblings 9.1.13

Football fever is in the air, iMonks. Either that, or my neighbor is burning his trash again. But I think it is football fever. It started Thursday night when my Tulsa Golden Hurricane (singular; one hurricane is enough) lost to some team from Ohio. But we have a long way to go, right? College football is addicting to me. I sit and watch whatever game is on, not even caring what teams are playing. Are there any other sports on the tube that attract you like college football does me? (Baseball is still God’s game, but I prefer to listen to baseball on the radio. Yes, I am very, very old.) So while you are digging out that old pigskin to toss around at halftime, what say we ramble for a bit?

You may have already read about this, as we linked to it earlier this week, but it bears repeating. Get your measles vaccine. It is not evil to do so. And if you don’t, you may want to avoid Kenneth Copeland’s church. Why is it we are always making following Jesus so weird? And why do we want to get medical advice from a preacher?

There is nothing new here, really. But it is still true. Does anyone know any churches that still bill themselves as “seeker-sensitive”? I try to avoid such churches, so I don’t know. Question for you: Do churches where Jesus is not present have any value for a Christian?

In a related article, check out this interview with college minister Katie Diller. She seems to get it, don’t you think?

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings 9.1.13”

ESV Omega Thinline Bible Review

I have finally come to grips with people using their iPads and iPhones for reading the Bible. No longer do I frown at people who use such technology in church. Just the other morning yours truly wanted to read something in the book of Jeremiah, but I didn’t want to get out of bed and walk six feet away to retrieve my Cambridge NIV from a table, so I picked up my Nexus 7 tablet and, using the Bible Gateway app, I selected The Voice translation and started in. I didn’t develop a nervous twitch or backslide, so I guess it’s ok.

I have always been a book person. I have hundreds of books stuffed everywhere around my house. If I sit in a chair for more than just to tie my shoes, I have a book with me. Yet lately I have found myself reading mostly from my tablet, using the Kindle app. It is just a lot more convenient to order an eBook from Amazon and read it right away than to wait for a physical book to arrive, then try to find a shelf to stuff it on.

So I want you to know I am not some old codger when it comes to books. I’m OK with seeing someone in church in the pew next to me pull out their iPhone to read a Scripture. Well, ok, now I’m going to a Catholic church, and we all know Catholics don’t read their Bibles in church, so I’ll assume they are looking at a missal app and not checking scores.

But that doesn’t mean I am done with paperbound books, especially Bibles. I love leather Bibles, ones with really good leather. One of our sponsors is evangelicalBible.com, and they have the best selection of fine leather Bibles you will find. Their latest “find” is the ESV Omega Thinline Bible, and it may be the nicest leather Bible I’ve ever used. Crossway commissioned this edition to commemorate their 75th anniversary, and they did it right.

Continue reading “ESV Omega Thinline Bible Review”

Today’s Mea Culpa

There I was, sitting at his bedside.

This was a different kind of patient than those I normally see. He has been homeless. He has been in prison, convicted of a crime that disturbs me, one for which I can find little sympathy in my heart. I don’t know any details about his law-breaking, and have been told it was a one-time affair. Nevertheless, I find it hard to block it out of my mind when approaching him.

When I first met this man, he was living in a flea-infested motel without a dollar to his name. I walked up to him and introduced myself and he said there had just been a fire upstairs and that he could not wait to get out of there. People with suspicious looks on their faces and time on their hands were hanging around the surrounding motel room doors and corridors casting glances our way. Who knows what they were talking about, or what they thought of someone like me pulling up. It was not the most comfortable setting.

This new patient, however, was friendly enough and good at conversation. He’d spent time in a downtown mission but hated the rules and despised even more the pervasive stench of tobacco that wafted from those who shared his dorm room. He had enough trouble breathing, he said, he didn’t need to inhale that rank air all night every night. He claimed he never had problems with smoking, drinking, or doing drugs. But he was estranged from his family and wanted nothing to do with them (I’ll never know their perspective). I didn’t get a clear timeline of his work, travels, prison time, or health problems. He did confess that he had little use for religion, without explaining further. So I gave him my normal spiel — a chaplain comes to be a friend and support first, and is also available should you want to discuss any spiritual concerns.

I left him that day wondering how this was going to work out. It is not normal practice to admit hospice patients who have no caregiver or place to live in which care can be provided. This guy, like many of the street-wise, was somewhat charming, a good talker, a survivor. He knew how to procure what he needed and was used to getting his way. Now he was facing that season of life when “others will…lead you where you don’t want to go.” I could see the potential for major problems.

However, one of our gifted and dedicated hospice team members found a place for him that provides homes for indigent hospice patients. Our team goes in and visits, and volunteers in the home look after him and help him with his daily needs.

Today I came and sat at his bedside. Our patient had experienced a change in condition. He was close to entering the stage we call “actively dying.” He was lethargic, opening his eyes but fading in and out, and was not coherent verbally. There I sat, looking at him. Wondering.

“How little I know about this man!” I thought. I know enough that I’ve made some judgments about him, and they’re not very kind. I wouldn’t trust him any further than I can spit. I am tempted to consider him as a lost cause, a waster of life, an ingrate who frittered away whatever gifts God gave him. A loser. Look at him now — here in his last days or maybe hours — totally dependent on the care and generosity of others, no family around, no friends coming to visit him, no record of achievement or accomplishment (that I know of) to look back on with satisfaction. When he dies, few will mourn his passing, and some will likely rejoice.

“Stop!” I tell myself. I don’t really know this man. I’ve heard so little of his story and know nothing about the context of his narrative. What assurance do I have that any of my assumptions are accurate? What right do I have to talk in definitive terms about a fellow human being, a neighbor, when in reality I’m virtually a stranger? Besides, it is not my job to pass judgment on him. I am here to show kindness, to offer comfort, to encourage peace of mind, heart, body, and spirit.

Like it or not, I make such judgments every day, a thousand times a day. Most of the time, I am not even aware I’m doing it. I peg others in their place and assume a certain divine verdict has been passed.

As I rose to leave the room, I didn’t feel so well. A human life was slipping away and I was keeping score.

Kyrie eleison.

Losing The War Part III—Love In The Ruins

Note from CM: I think our discussion has outgrown its usefulness on this post. Comments are closed.

* * *

I believe in God and the whole business but I love women best, music and science next, whiskey next, God fourth, and my fellowman hardly at all. Generally I do as I please. A man, wrote John, who says he believes in God and does not keep his commandments is a liar. John is right. I am a liar. Nevertheless, I still believe.

Since I am going to be talking about sex in this post, it is likely to be highly controversial. Nothing cuts to the quick of our souls like sex. It is where power, pride, pleasure, and transcendence intersect, and that for a reason. Because of the controversy inherent in talking about sex, I want to introduce the post with some unrelated, uncontroversial statements before I descend into the trigger-bait.

I am fascinated by the 6^th century BC. This was a time that saw a sort of quantum leap in human consciousness. Among the many luminaries who lived during this century are included Lao-Tse and Confucius in China, Guatama Buddha and Mahavira Vardhamana in India, Spenta Zarathustra and Deutero-Isaiah in the Near East, and the Pre-Socratic philosophers of Greece. Before the 6^th century BC, the intellectual products of men appeared to have a dreamlike, childlike quality, which erupted into a greater awareness of human freedom and individuality.

What was common to the political environments of all of these men is that they lived during a period of great turmoil and change. The city-state was the most common form of political entity. This was the Spring and Autumn period in China, the flowering of the polis in Greece, a time of petty kings and kingdoms on the plain of the Ganges. It was a time when you could go to sleep one day and awaken to find that the boundary between you and a hostile neighbor had gone over your roof during the night.

We live in just such a time at the present. Not that most of us live in city-states, but the boundaries that have stood for hundreds, if not thousands, of years have swept over us and left us stranded in unfamiliar territory.

Nowhere is this more apparent, nor more unsettling, than in our current imbroglio concerning relationships between the sexes.

Continue reading “Losing The War Part III—Love In The Ruins”

I Wanna Hold Your Hand: Being Physical In A Sexual World

There’s a lot of talk about sexuality these days. Whether it’s about sex outside of marriage, LBGT issues, pederast priests, celibacy as a lifestyle, or gender change – everyone has an opinion, and most opinions are heated. Let’s take a step back from sexuality and consider instead physicality.

We as a society are far too sexualized. Too many choices and behaviors are thought of as sexual when they are really something else. Young children are being forced to consider issues of sexual identity when they should be working on getting along and growing up. Devout, restrained, and modest people are told that they are repressed and need to get in touch with their own sexuality – and presumably talk about it every chance they get. People who aren’t very interested in sex of any kind are barraged with voices telling them that they have to “self-identify” as something or other, whether they want to or not.

But sexuality is only a part of us – I’d even say a small part. It can color other aspects of ourselves, but it is not the only determiner of who we are. My intellect, my conscience, my perception of humor, the acuity of my senses, my talents – some of these may be affected a bit by my gender but not much by my sexuality.

Continue reading “I Wanna Hold Your Hand: Being Physical In A Sexual World”

Chris Smith: A Joyful and Vibrant Life: Cultivating Community as Slow Churches

Agape_feast_01 — The Symbolic Supper. Early Christian catacomb

Note from CM: My friend C. Christopher Smith is editor of The Englewood Review of Books, and author of several books, including the forthcoming Slow Church: Cultivating Community in the Patient Way of Jesus, (co-authored with John Pattison, IVP/Praxis, Spring 2014).

You can, and are encouraged to connect with the conversation about Slow Church on Chris and John’s blog on Patheos.

Thanks, Chris!

* * *

Chaplain Mike recently invited me to respond to this recent post that was shared here: Another Look: Some Thoughts on “Community.” The basic point of this post was that:

We simply cannot experience community today unless we take some different approaches to life. To have these kinds of relationships, we must disengage from things, even good things, that work against our own human formation and the formation of human bonds with others.

This insight is an important one, and one that has guided the work of many social critics over the last half-century, including Jacques Ellul, Neil Postman and Wendell Berry. But how do we move in this direction? And, to what end do we do so? And what role should our local church communities play in this cultivating of community?

These questions are ones that I have been wrestling with in my forthcoming book (co-authored with John Pattison): Slow Church: Cultivating Community in the Patient Way of Jesus (IVP/Praxis, Spring 2014). They also are ones that the congregation that I belong to, Englewood Christian Church on the urban Near Eastside of Indianapolis, has been grappling with for over two decades. (A brief snapshot of our story is available on the Christianity Today website). Following in the footsteps of other Slow movements – first and foremost, Slow Food, but also Slow Cities, Slow Money, etc. – we seek to offer in Slow Church, an alternative to the speed and industrialization of our fast food age that prefers quality over quantity and that is deeply embedded within and attentive to the local places and economies we inhabit.

But before I talk about cultivating community in our local churches, I do want to offer a caveat about nostalgia and the question of “to what end?” Among many folks who yearn for a more connected life in community, there is a powerful temptation to look back at some bygone, pre-internet era (say the 1950s, for instance) as the golden age of community. While there are things we can learn from such historical communities, the experience of community in past ages often came at the expense of diversity. It’s relatively easy to be in community with people who are similar – in age, economic status, race, language, etc. – to ourselves, but our call to community in Christ is not this sort of community. Our call to follow Christ as the people of God falls within God’s mission of reconciling all humanity and all creation. It’s good to have friends who are like us and who understand us, but that kind of community is fundamentally not what church is about, rather church is about learning to be a community with those who God has gathered, across generations, economic classes, races, etc. This sense of becoming a reconciling community is often obscured by the consumer Christianity of our age, in which we pick churches in which we feel comfortable and in which our needs are met. And, of course, the flip side of that is that if we ever begin to feel uncomfortable (or that our needs are not being met), we can check out and go find another church.

When we start to think about cultivating community in our churches, one of the first steps is coming to realize the ways in which our theology has been hijacked by the ideologies of the modern age (particularly individualism and consumerism). Essential to the vision of Slow Church is that the people of God are at the heart of God’s mission for reconciling creation. We have therefore intentionally chosen the language of Slow Church, as opposed to Slow Christianity, Slow Faith, or similar label. Part of the slowness of our calling is that we are called into the life and community of God’s people. We are so accustomed in Western culture to living and acting as autonomous individuals, that the idea of being God’s people in the world, as Israel was the people of God in the age of the Old Testament, can be a foreign one for us. Being God’s people is messy at best. We are broken human beings with fears, prejudices, addictions, and habits that are harmful to ourselves and others. It can seem more practical and convenient to keep to ourselves and minimize the risk that we’ll get entangled in the lives of others. And yet, as much as we are formed by Western individualism, and though we have allowed that individualism to shape the way we read scripture, our calling in Christ is to community, to a life shared with others in a local gathering that is an expression of Christ’s body in our particular place.

Continue reading “Chris Smith: A Joyful and Vibrant Life: Cultivating Community as Slow Churches”

The Homily

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go (Joshua 1:9, NIV)

Nevertheless I have this against you, that you have left your first love (Revelation 2:4, NKJV).

I hope you will allow me some leeway in today’s homily. I want to invite you to journey with me, a journey that started forty years ago today. It is my journey, yes, but we may find it intersects in ways with your journey as well.

It was August 25, 1973, a Saturday, and I was trying to find a way to get out of a commitment to my friend Steve to go to an outdoor concert at his church. I had three lawns to cut that day, but amazingly I got them all done before Steve came to pick me up, so I was stuck. I had to go.

It was a beautiful afternoon. A stage was set up in the parking lot of Centerville First Baptist Church, and various local “Jesus music” groups were singing and sharing testimonies. I don’t remember anything that was said or sung that day, but I do remember the other teens my age. They were laughing and smiling—genuinely happy without having to drink or smoke anything to make them that way. By the end of the afternoon I said to myself, “These guys have something real, and I will give up anything in my life to have what they have.” That “something real” was Jesus. That day I met him face-to-face with his grace and mercy and forgiveness.

I threw myself into that church. Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night services. Saturday night youth coffee house. This was in the height of the Jesus People and charismatic movements. This small Ohio Baptist church was bursting at the seams with those hungry for Jesus and eager to learn from Scripture how to follow Jesus in their daily lives.

Continue reading “The Homily”

Saturday Ramblings 8.24.13

It has been a rather slow week here at the iMonastery. Chaplain Mike and Mule Chewing Briars baked cookies. The women spent their time complaining practicing for the iMonk flag football team. Me? I kept busy sewing uniforms and cleaning cookie sheets. An abbot’s work is never finished. Now it’s time to relax with a nice, heaping pile of Saturday Ramblings.

T. M. Lurhmann traveled all the way to Africa to discover why speaking in tongues is so important to some. She came away with the insight that you can fake glossolalia by saying “I should have bought a Hyundai” ten times fast. Go ahead, try it.

Meanwhile, Baptists are greeting Hispanic immigrants to the U.S. by teaching them how to be Baptists. It’s an interesting article, but I need your help. Just what does this line mean? “A new believer who comes out of a Catholic background needs to understand that salvation is a spiritual experience” and not the result of adherence to the sacraments. Sacraments aren’t a spiritual experience? Just what is a spiritual experience anyway?

Remember last week when Baptist Russell Moore wrote about transgender issues? Many of you took issue with his understanding of “transgender.” Jonathan Merritt agrees with you. It’s complicated.

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings 8.24.13”