Posts
Preparing to fly to the States tomorrow for the Wesleyan Theological Society annual meeting. I'm also speaking at a couple of churches while I'm in the States, and I'm a good bit nervous about that. I've checked in for the flight to Seattle, but I need some assistance doing so for the flight to Nashville, since check in will not become available until 4 AM tomorrow Manila time, at which point I will already be in the car on the way to the airport. So I asked my brother to take care of it for me, since the time for him will be 2 PM; much more manageable.
Anyway, I never do realize how much there is to do to get ready for a flight. Even though I'm only going to be gone nine days, there is a significant amount of things to be taken care of. Certainly not the least of these is printing out student papers that are turned in today in order that I can grade them on the planes. I do not know how much I will actually get done, but I have lofty ambitions at any rate. I also have to finish typing up manuscript/notes for my deputation services, but that shouldn't take a huge amount of time either. I'm already about half finished. All of this means I probably should quit blogging and get back at it. :-)
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Ash Wednesday: The Light from the Meadow Hasn't Failed Yet
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 OR Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Naturally, all of the texts chosen for reading today deal with human sinfulness and the consciousness of it. That is the point of Ash Wednesday, beginning the journey into the long, dark wood of Lent. I will use this metaphor throughout these Lenten reflections: journeying through a dark wood. Lent is always a particularly disturbing time for me. I struggle with the "Lenten fast" every year, trying to determine something to "give up for Lent." For the longest time, I resisted this Christian practice. I saw it as trite, a pathetic attempt to identify with the suffering of Christ for just forty days (not counting Sundays), especially in the cases of people who gave up chocolate or sweets or something that they enjoyed, only to pick it up again after Easter. But then I learned the further dimension of Lent: the point of the giving up is not to give something up for a little bit, but to use the time or moeny you would have spent in acquiring that something or doing that something instead in the furtherance of some spiritual, charitable, or otherwise lofty purpose. Once I realized that, I felt a lot more at ease with the spiritual practice of giving something up for Lent. So I'm setting aside the money I would spend on my sodas at lunch for a special offering on Easter Sunday. I have not yet determined the direction this ought to go in, but that's something I can think about later.
A warning is also sounded in the Gospel lesson about making a public display of the Lenten fast. "But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you" (Matt 6:3-4). This is part of a lengthly list of warnings against public piety, which has always resonated with me in particular. Even when I am speaking at a church or otherwise in a prominent position, I do not like really to be in front of people practicing religion. I do not think religion is a fully private matter, and indeed that that sort of thinking has opened up Protestant Christianity in particular to all sorts of abuses and misunderstandings. But there is defintely something to be said about not wearing one's religion on the sleeve.
But we're just at the beginning of the path through the dark wood. The light from the meadow of Epiphany hasn't quite dimmed yet. More properly, the light from Transfiguration Mountain hasn't quite faded away yet. At the same time, we are drawn inexorably on the path of Lent, the path of suffering that ultimately leads to the ultimate horror of "Good" Friday. So there is a pall of gloom cast over this season. That, beyond all else, is why the Lenten fast should not be treated as a flippant sort of thing. It matters. It is a serious thing. It is a serious call for devotion. It is a serious call for devotion to the Lord who did not go up into glory without first suffering pain. And that is what Lent is about. Amen.
Naturally, all of the texts chosen for reading today deal with human sinfulness and the consciousness of it. That is the point of Ash Wednesday, beginning the journey into the long, dark wood of Lent. I will use this metaphor throughout these Lenten reflections: journeying through a dark wood. Lent is always a particularly disturbing time for me. I struggle with the "Lenten fast" every year, trying to determine something to "give up for Lent." For the longest time, I resisted this Christian practice. I saw it as trite, a pathetic attempt to identify with the suffering of Christ for just forty days (not counting Sundays), especially in the cases of people who gave up chocolate or sweets or something that they enjoyed, only to pick it up again after Easter. But then I learned the further dimension of Lent: the point of the giving up is not to give something up for a little bit, but to use the time or moeny you would have spent in acquiring that something or doing that something instead in the furtherance of some spiritual, charitable, or otherwise lofty purpose. Once I realized that, I felt a lot more at ease with the spiritual practice of giving something up for Lent. So I'm setting aside the money I would spend on my sodas at lunch for a special offering on Easter Sunday. I have not yet determined the direction this ought to go in, but that's something I can think about later.
A warning is also sounded in the Gospel lesson about making a public display of the Lenten fast. "But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you" (Matt 6:3-4). This is part of a lengthly list of warnings against public piety, which has always resonated with me in particular. Even when I am speaking at a church or otherwise in a prominent position, I do not like really to be in front of people practicing religion. I do not think religion is a fully private matter, and indeed that that sort of thinking has opened up Protestant Christianity in particular to all sorts of abuses and misunderstandings. But there is defintely something to be said about not wearing one's religion on the sleeve.
But we're just at the beginning of the path through the dark wood. The light from the meadow of Epiphany hasn't quite dimmed yet. More properly, the light from Transfiguration Mountain hasn't quite faded away yet. At the same time, we are drawn inexorably on the path of Lent, the path of suffering that ultimately leads to the ultimate horror of "Good" Friday. So there is a pall of gloom cast over this season. That, beyond all else, is why the Lenten fast should not be treated as a flippant sort of thing. It matters. It is a serious thing. It is a serious call for devotion. It is a serious call for devotion to the Lord who did not go up into glory without first suffering pain. And that is what Lent is about. Amen.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Transfiguration Sunday: Did You See That?
The Feast of the Transfiguration is a major feast of the Church normally celebrated on August 6. But on today, the Last Sunday of Lent, the Gospel lesson is always of the Transfiguration, so this has come to be called Transfiguration Sunday.
2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
And again, the creators of the lectionary have brought together a collection of terms that each spin on a particular axis, but their orbits are not even. They are, indeed, unlike the planets, not even in the same direction. In this case, the axis is to be understood as the faithful seeing the things of the divine.
In the story of the assumption of Elijah in 2 Kgs, the senior prophet tells his your assistant Elisha that he must stop while the master goes on. But, repeatedly, from Elisha: "As Yahweh lives, as as you yourself live, I will not leave you. And various members of the company of the prophets come out to remind Elisha that his master is to be taken today, and, repeatedly, "I know. Keep silent." Elisha is not content to remain with his master; he knows that the master must go on--this will become important later on. The climax of the story comes in Elijah's charge that if Elisha sees the chariot of God taking him up into heaven, then Elisha will receive what he has asked for, a double portion of Elijah's spirit. In other words, if Elisha is faithful to see, then his faith will be rewarded.
Psalm 50's spinning on this axis runs in an entirely different direction. In v 5, the direction is entirely from God: "Gather my faithful ones!" The obvious idea is that God wants to see all those who have made a covenant with him by sacrifice, but the clear implication is that the faithful ones will by this action be able to see him. They have been faithful, they are being rewarded, and God says it is time for the reward to begin. It is a supremely eschatological statement, and one that will get replayed throughout apocalyptic literature, particularly in the scenes after the cataclysmic judgments have been rendered on the earth. This, essentially, is the answer to the question of the martyrs under the altar in Revelation, "How long, O Lord?" Wait a little while more, and I will call you.
From 2 Cor 4, the idea of the faithful having true sight and the unfaithful being blinded comes out most clearly. This does not mean that this text has Mercury's orbit to the concept, but just that its particular spin does not have the narrative or theological elaboration that we found in 2 Kgs 2 and Ps 50. If our gospel is veiled, says Paul, it is only veiled against those who are perishing, because they have been kept from seeing the true light. Paul does not proclaim himself as Lord, but he proclaims Jesus for the sake of the Corinthians and all his other audiences. The final verse of the passage links creation and redemption in a powerful way, thus contributing to the ongoing debates with Gnosticism and its deprecation of the natural order. God is the God of all it, says Paul, says the New Testament, and says the Church.
Finally, the transfiguration story itself in Mark 9 picks up on a similar theme as 2 Kgs 2. In v 5, Peter says that it is very good to be here, and he proposes to build three shacks, one for Jesus and one each for his two heavenly visitors. Notice that he doesn't bother with the accomodations he, James and John will use. The theme of course picked up from 2 Kgs is that Elisha never thought of the idea that he would remain with Elijah forever. In fact, this formed part of his hissing rebuke to the company of the prophets: "Yes I know. Keep silent." Maybe he was trying to steel his own nerves for what is about to happen, yet Peter does not have that same compunction. So he desires to stay here; this is the only thing he knows to say, for he is absolutely terrified. The allaying of these fears is given through the heavenly voice, the confirmation of God on the mission of Jesus.
So, did you see that? What? I didn't see it. Oh, too bad, it was really interesting. Maybe you'll catch it next time. Amen.
2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
And again, the creators of the lectionary have brought together a collection of terms that each spin on a particular axis, but their orbits are not even. They are, indeed, unlike the planets, not even in the same direction. In this case, the axis is to be understood as the faithful seeing the things of the divine.
In the story of the assumption of Elijah in 2 Kgs, the senior prophet tells his your assistant Elisha that he must stop while the master goes on. But, repeatedly, from Elisha: "As Yahweh lives, as as you yourself live, I will not leave you. And various members of the company of the prophets come out to remind Elisha that his master is to be taken today, and, repeatedly, "I know. Keep silent." Elisha is not content to remain with his master; he knows that the master must go on--this will become important later on. The climax of the story comes in Elijah's charge that if Elisha sees the chariot of God taking him up into heaven, then Elisha will receive what he has asked for, a double portion of Elijah's spirit. In other words, if Elisha is faithful to see, then his faith will be rewarded.
Psalm 50's spinning on this axis runs in an entirely different direction. In v 5, the direction is entirely from God: "Gather my faithful ones!" The obvious idea is that God wants to see all those who have made a covenant with him by sacrifice, but the clear implication is that the faithful ones will by this action be able to see him. They have been faithful, they are being rewarded, and God says it is time for the reward to begin. It is a supremely eschatological statement, and one that will get replayed throughout apocalyptic literature, particularly in the scenes after the cataclysmic judgments have been rendered on the earth. This, essentially, is the answer to the question of the martyrs under the altar in Revelation, "How long, O Lord?" Wait a little while more, and I will call you.
From 2 Cor 4, the idea of the faithful having true sight and the unfaithful being blinded comes out most clearly. This does not mean that this text has Mercury's orbit to the concept, but just that its particular spin does not have the narrative or theological elaboration that we found in 2 Kgs 2 and Ps 50. If our gospel is veiled, says Paul, it is only veiled against those who are perishing, because they have been kept from seeing the true light. Paul does not proclaim himself as Lord, but he proclaims Jesus for the sake of the Corinthians and all his other audiences. The final verse of the passage links creation and redemption in a powerful way, thus contributing to the ongoing debates with Gnosticism and its deprecation of the natural order. God is the God of all it, says Paul, says the New Testament, and says the Church.
Finally, the transfiguration story itself in Mark 9 picks up on a similar theme as 2 Kgs 2. In v 5, Peter says that it is very good to be here, and he proposes to build three shacks, one for Jesus and one each for his two heavenly visitors. Notice that he doesn't bother with the accomodations he, James and John will use. The theme of course picked up from 2 Kgs is that Elisha never thought of the idea that he would remain with Elijah forever. In fact, this formed part of his hissing rebuke to the company of the prophets: "Yes I know. Keep silent." Maybe he was trying to steel his own nerves for what is about to happen, yet Peter does not have that same compunction. So he desires to stay here; this is the only thing he knows to say, for he is absolutely terrified. The allaying of these fears is given through the heavenly voice, the confirmation of God on the mission of Jesus.
So, did you see that? What? I didn't see it. Oh, too bad, it was really interesting. Maybe you'll catch it next time. Amen.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
The List
I say every so often, mostly as a joke, that I have a list of things that I absolutely MUST experience here in the Philippines. Some of the things are legitimate (visit Corregidor Island and the Bataan Death March site, visit the site of the battle where Magellan died, eat balut, etc.) but a few things just get added on once they've already been accomplished, like get pickpocketed. One of my students suggested to be, jokingly of course, that if I had not had getting picked on my list, then it wouldn't have happened. :-) But, a new bizarre add to The List just made its appearance: spend two nights in the hospital.
The story begins, I believe, a week ago, Friday, February 13th. I had just attended a conference on ecological responsibility in Makati and was making my way home in the hot afternoon sun. I chose the wrong method of transportation and wound up taking myself quite far out of the way. So this exposure weakened my immune system, which was then assualted full-bore by a virus carried by a visitor from the regional office in Singapore, who happens to be staying in the guest house next to me. By his experience, it should have been one of those twenty-four-hour, what-was-that-I-don't-care-because-I'm-better-now sorts of things. But for me it was rather different.
Compounded by an insanely-cold cinema on Saturday night, Valentine's Day, I was already well on the way to Sickville by the time I got home late Saturday. Sunday I was into a full-blown head cold with body aches and fever. As I tried to sleep it off, the fever kept breaking throughout the day on Sunday, lathering my body with sweat and creating the ultimate physical problem that resulted in hospitalization--dehydration. I simply was not able to drink enough water to combat the loss of fluids through sweat, and in truth even water would not have fully done the trick.
I went to the ER for a checkup on Monday night and got and even more fearsome word, that I might have contracted Dengue Fever, one of the dreaded, and quite often deadly, tropical diseases around these parts. I was told to come back to the hospital on Wednesday to have blood work done again to see if the measurements would have fallen into critical levels, so I went home and shuffled around like an old man. Every muscle ached. It was hard to raise my arms to elbow level, let alone above my head. So friends began to look after me, come visit me for lunch, and so on. By Tuesday night I made the decision to cancel the rest of my classes for the week, which sent torrents of well-wishes pouring in from my students, seeing as how this was the first many of them heard about my illness.
When I went back to the hospital on Wednesday, we got the Run Around Sue treatment for a bit, which certainly didn't help my mood. When we finally got to see a doctor, she took one look at me, heard me speak about three sentences, and confined me to the hospital with severe dehydration and, ultimately, a urinary tract infection. They set up an IV with fluid replenishment and did another blood test. They were not able to definitely rule out Dengue Fever until Thursday morning, which was a great sigh of relief. I did feel almost instantly better and by Thursday I felt I could go home, but the doctor wanted me to stay because of the low saline content of my blood. So stay I did, fitfully trying to get comfortable in a hospital bed, trying to eat, and being unsuccessful, Filipino hospital food. Eventually I gave up and just ate the fruit and crackers that people had brought me. By that time, even the smell of the food from the dietary area was turning my stomach. I was visited by the president and by one other faculty colleague, as well as several times by my girlfriend, all of which warmed my heart.
Getting discharged was a difficult matter. The doctor said on Thursday that she would release me on Friday morning, but apparently she did not communicate this to the nurses, for they did not seem to know about this. It seems she has residency at several hospitals and clinics in the area, as to most Filipino MDs. But eventually she came by around 4 and released me even faster than she had admitted me. I am due to go back next Friday for another pee-in-the-cup routine, but other than that it appears that I am up and out of the woods and on the way to full recovery.
Thanks be to God that it was not Dengue, which would have confined me to the hospital for a minium of six weeks and destroyed my plans to go to the States next week. Thanks be to God for caring friends and coworkers who went out of their way to comfort me. Thanks be to God for medicine, and for the ability to pay for it. And thanks be to God for recovery. One more thing checked off The List.
The story begins, I believe, a week ago, Friday, February 13th. I had just attended a conference on ecological responsibility in Makati and was making my way home in the hot afternoon sun. I chose the wrong method of transportation and wound up taking myself quite far out of the way. So this exposure weakened my immune system, which was then assualted full-bore by a virus carried by a visitor from the regional office in Singapore, who happens to be staying in the guest house next to me. By his experience, it should have been one of those twenty-four-hour, what-was-that-I-don't-care-because-I'm-better-now sorts of things. But for me it was rather different.
Compounded by an insanely-cold cinema on Saturday night, Valentine's Day, I was already well on the way to Sickville by the time I got home late Saturday. Sunday I was into a full-blown head cold with body aches and fever. As I tried to sleep it off, the fever kept breaking throughout the day on Sunday, lathering my body with sweat and creating the ultimate physical problem that resulted in hospitalization--dehydration. I simply was not able to drink enough water to combat the loss of fluids through sweat, and in truth even water would not have fully done the trick.
I went to the ER for a checkup on Monday night and got and even more fearsome word, that I might have contracted Dengue Fever, one of the dreaded, and quite often deadly, tropical diseases around these parts. I was told to come back to the hospital on Wednesday to have blood work done again to see if the measurements would have fallen into critical levels, so I went home and shuffled around like an old man. Every muscle ached. It was hard to raise my arms to elbow level, let alone above my head. So friends began to look after me, come visit me for lunch, and so on. By Tuesday night I made the decision to cancel the rest of my classes for the week, which sent torrents of well-wishes pouring in from my students, seeing as how this was the first many of them heard about my illness.
When I went back to the hospital on Wednesday, we got the Run Around Sue treatment for a bit, which certainly didn't help my mood. When we finally got to see a doctor, she took one look at me, heard me speak about three sentences, and confined me to the hospital with severe dehydration and, ultimately, a urinary tract infection. They set up an IV with fluid replenishment and did another blood test. They were not able to definitely rule out Dengue Fever until Thursday morning, which was a great sigh of relief. I did feel almost instantly better and by Thursday I felt I could go home, but the doctor wanted me to stay because of the low saline content of my blood. So stay I did, fitfully trying to get comfortable in a hospital bed, trying to eat, and being unsuccessful, Filipino hospital food. Eventually I gave up and just ate the fruit and crackers that people had brought me. By that time, even the smell of the food from the dietary area was turning my stomach. I was visited by the president and by one other faculty colleague, as well as several times by my girlfriend, all of which warmed my heart.
Getting discharged was a difficult matter. The doctor said on Thursday that she would release me on Friday morning, but apparently she did not communicate this to the nurses, for they did not seem to know about this. It seems she has residency at several hospitals and clinics in the area, as to most Filipino MDs. But eventually she came by around 4 and released me even faster than she had admitted me. I am due to go back next Friday for another pee-in-the-cup routine, but other than that it appears that I am up and out of the woods and on the way to full recovery.
Thanks be to God that it was not Dengue, which would have confined me to the hospital for a minium of six weeks and destroyed my plans to go to the States next week. Thanks be to God for caring friends and coworkers who went out of their way to comfort me. Thanks be to God for medicine, and for the ability to pay for it. And thanks be to God for recovery. One more thing checked off The List.
Keep Door Close at all Times
The title of this post is a sign noticed at the Manila East Medical Center as I was being discharged yesterday. It's amazing how the lack of one letter can make a perfectly normal statement into a completely incomprehensible one.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany: Little Steps Matter
2 Kings 5:1-14; Psalm 30; 1 Corinthians 9:24-27; Mark 1:40-45
The Old Testament and Gospel Lessons have in common a curing of leprosy. It is an established fact that this word covered a variety of skin diseases that we have now identified and labeled with appropriately different terms: rashes, skin cancer, burns, eczema, psoriasis, and so on. But the details of the particular disease do not matter so much as the healing from them.
In both cases, there is a choice to be made. In Captain Naaman's case, he has to choose whether he is going to follow the advice of the man of God from Israel. He perhaps rightly thinks that the rivers of Aram are much better than dirty disgusting Jordan. But the servant girl (or perhaps somebody else) shrewdly asks him, "If he had asked you to do something difficult, wouldn't you have done it?" The idea of doing something very simple to bring about a great effect was brought home to me this week as I attended and presented to a conference on ecological responsibility. This really was a life-changing event, and I will make some immediate changes in my life. If I take cloth bags to go shopping, then that is a small step indeed. I have eight or so bags that I could use for this purpose, which is about the maximum that I could carry from the store anyway on public transit. If I go to the store about 3 times a month, and average 5-7 bags each time I go, then if my math is correct that is anywhere from 15-21 plastic bags that don't get used. Sometimes I have despaired of doing anything to help the environment, because all I hear is that the damage is irreversible. But I heard exactly the opposite this week. I have a choice what to do, just like Naaman. And I'm not being asked to do anything difficult. Little steps matter. If I don't do what I know I ought to do just because it will take me a couple of extra minutes, or it will cost me a few extra dollars, then what does that say about my spiritual condition? Now, I'm not going to become a militant environmentalist, yelling at other people when they do not do what I do, for as was pointed out at the conference, such behavior is naught but a new Pharisaism.
What are you doing? Amen.
The Old Testament and Gospel Lessons have in common a curing of leprosy. It is an established fact that this word covered a variety of skin diseases that we have now identified and labeled with appropriately different terms: rashes, skin cancer, burns, eczema, psoriasis, and so on. But the details of the particular disease do not matter so much as the healing from them.
In both cases, there is a choice to be made. In Captain Naaman's case, he has to choose whether he is going to follow the advice of the man of God from Israel. He perhaps rightly thinks that the rivers of Aram are much better than dirty disgusting Jordan. But the servant girl (or perhaps somebody else) shrewdly asks him, "If he had asked you to do something difficult, wouldn't you have done it?" The idea of doing something very simple to bring about a great effect was brought home to me this week as I attended and presented to a conference on ecological responsibility. This really was a life-changing event, and I will make some immediate changes in my life. If I take cloth bags to go shopping, then that is a small step indeed. I have eight or so bags that I could use for this purpose, which is about the maximum that I could carry from the store anyway on public transit. If I go to the store about 3 times a month, and average 5-7 bags each time I go, then if my math is correct that is anywhere from 15-21 plastic bags that don't get used. Sometimes I have despaired of doing anything to help the environment, because all I hear is that the damage is irreversible. But I heard exactly the opposite this week. I have a choice what to do, just like Naaman. And I'm not being asked to do anything difficult. Little steps matter. If I don't do what I know I ought to do just because it will take me a couple of extra minutes, or it will cost me a few extra dollars, then what does that say about my spiritual condition? Now, I'm not going to become a militant environmentalist, yelling at other people when they do not do what I do, for as was pointed out at the conference, such behavior is naught but a new Pharisaism.
What are you doing? Amen.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
The Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany: What's my motivation?
Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-11, 20c; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39
A few years ago there was a Sprite commercial in the States that started off with these three tough young guys playing a pick-up basketball game. They talked for a few seconds about how tough they were, how much better they were at basketball, etc., and then someone from offscreen yelled "CUT!" and the illusion was broken. No longer were these three tough young guys playing basketball, but now they were arrogant, sniveling-artist, prima-donna type actors. "Don't speak that way to ME, little man," one says to the director, in a high-class British accent that belies his tough-guy jock exterior. "I studied SHAKESPEARE at CAMBRIDGE!" Then another one wants to know a question of acting method. In an insecure voice, he says, "Wait...wait...what's my motivation?"
I immediately thought if this last line as I read the Epistle Lesson for today. This is Paul's "all things to everyone" speech, or theological chameleonism. I can certainly imagine what lies behind this speech, what, in the words of the actor from the Sprite commercial, is Paul's "motivation." According to his opponents (whose words we have to supply here, but it seems reasonable to do so), Paul is being what my Filipino friends call plastik. That word means just what it sounds like in English--plastic, unreal, synthetic, molding himself to whatever model he needs to fit whatever crowd he's with. In short, such a person is ungenuine, not living up to the courage of his convictions. In a way, although the situations in Rome and Corinth were quite different, one might use Paul's great exhortation in Rom 12 against him in 1 Cor 9, and perhaps something exactly like this lay behind 1 Cor 9. But, for Paul, even his seeming inconsistency contributes to a bedrock of security--his belief in and communication of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, of which he was made an eyewitness, indeed the last of them all (1 Cor 15:8).
The Gospel Lesson for today, Mark 1:29-38, although not indicating something of Jesus' desire to appear one way to one crowd, and another way to another, nevertheless discusses a similar thing. Simon and the disciples find Jesus hiding off somewhere, and they say that everyone is looking for him. In this case, those who seek do not find (see Matt 7:8; Lk 11:10), but instead Jesus wants to spread his message even to those other towns. One might say that those who do not seek him are finding him. Perhaps better, one might say that God in Jesus is the one who seeks. I do not remember the source, but I heard someone give--or someone told me that he/she heard it, or whatever--a very trenchant comment regarding "seeker-sensitive" worship such as that you will find at the large megachurches and many smaller evangelical churches trying to mimic their model and become large megachurches themselves. (Aside: even the pastors of these great megachurches, in their prodigious amounts of books they seem to be able to write even while pastoring multiple thousands of people, say that you can't do it like we did; and yet we try.) This person said, "There is no problem with 'seeker-sensitive' worship, just so long as we understand that GOD is the seeker!"
This comment, while it was directed as a criticism against some contemporary worship practices (a late 20th/early 21st century version of Finney's "new measures?"), at the same time it was a prescient theological comment. And it seems to be in line both with how Paul defends himself in 1 Cor 9 and how Jesus determines to not reward those who are seeking him in the immediate situation and instead go off seeking others. For that matter, this is consistent also with the parable of the sheep; the shepherd leaves the 99 and goes off in search of the lost one. And there is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner coming to repentance than ninety-nine who do not need repentance. Thanks be to God.
The Old Testament contributions this week, both Isa 40 and Ps 147, contribute to the theme in an overarching sort of way. By testifying to the greatness and majesty and, in particular, sovereignty of God, these texts signify that God can move things about as God wills, without any reference or deference to that in which humans put their trust. Paul and Jesus seem to be plugged into that greater mission, such that the seeming permanence of certain human institutions, whether those be political or theological institutions, are but as nothing for God the Seeker. So this is why Jesus can avoid those who are searching for him and instead go off in search of others who haven't yet heard his name. And this is why Paul can appear to leave his convictions at the door when he models himself to those who are inside, but really he is plugging himself into a motivation greater than the "convictions" that he held so dear (see also Phil 3).
It is a great and glorious revelation, a gift from God, to discover that we do not have to mold to a particular form. Would that we really did allow for diversity in worship, so that by all means we might win some. How revolutionary would THAT be for Christian ministry, worship, evangelism, and discipleship? Amen.
A few years ago there was a Sprite commercial in the States that started off with these three tough young guys playing a pick-up basketball game. They talked for a few seconds about how tough they were, how much better they were at basketball, etc., and then someone from offscreen yelled "CUT!" and the illusion was broken. No longer were these three tough young guys playing basketball, but now they were arrogant, sniveling-artist, prima-donna type actors. "Don't speak that way to ME, little man," one says to the director, in a high-class British accent that belies his tough-guy jock exterior. "I studied SHAKESPEARE at CAMBRIDGE!" Then another one wants to know a question of acting method. In an insecure voice, he says, "Wait...wait...what's my motivation?"
I immediately thought if this last line as I read the Epistle Lesson for today. This is Paul's "all things to everyone" speech, or theological chameleonism. I can certainly imagine what lies behind this speech, what, in the words of the actor from the Sprite commercial, is Paul's "motivation." According to his opponents (whose words we have to supply here, but it seems reasonable to do so), Paul is being what my Filipino friends call plastik. That word means just what it sounds like in English--plastic, unreal, synthetic, molding himself to whatever model he needs to fit whatever crowd he's with. In short, such a person is ungenuine, not living up to the courage of his convictions. In a way, although the situations in Rome and Corinth were quite different, one might use Paul's great exhortation in Rom 12 against him in 1 Cor 9, and perhaps something exactly like this lay behind 1 Cor 9. But, for Paul, even his seeming inconsistency contributes to a bedrock of security--his belief in and communication of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, of which he was made an eyewitness, indeed the last of them all (1 Cor 15:8).
The Gospel Lesson for today, Mark 1:29-38, although not indicating something of Jesus' desire to appear one way to one crowd, and another way to another, nevertheless discusses a similar thing. Simon and the disciples find Jesus hiding off somewhere, and they say that everyone is looking for him. In this case, those who seek do not find (see Matt 7:8; Lk 11:10), but instead Jesus wants to spread his message even to those other towns. One might say that those who do not seek him are finding him. Perhaps better, one might say that God in Jesus is the one who seeks. I do not remember the source, but I heard someone give--or someone told me that he/she heard it, or whatever--a very trenchant comment regarding "seeker-sensitive" worship such as that you will find at the large megachurches and many smaller evangelical churches trying to mimic their model and become large megachurches themselves. (Aside: even the pastors of these great megachurches, in their prodigious amounts of books they seem to be able to write even while pastoring multiple thousands of people, say that you can't do it like we did; and yet we try.) This person said, "There is no problem with 'seeker-sensitive' worship, just so long as we understand that GOD is the seeker!"
This comment, while it was directed as a criticism against some contemporary worship practices (a late 20th/early 21st century version of Finney's "new measures?"), at the same time it was a prescient theological comment. And it seems to be in line both with how Paul defends himself in 1 Cor 9 and how Jesus determines to not reward those who are seeking him in the immediate situation and instead go off seeking others. For that matter, this is consistent also with the parable of the sheep; the shepherd leaves the 99 and goes off in search of the lost one. And there is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner coming to repentance than ninety-nine who do not need repentance. Thanks be to God.
The Old Testament contributions this week, both Isa 40 and Ps 147, contribute to the theme in an overarching sort of way. By testifying to the greatness and majesty and, in particular, sovereignty of God, these texts signify that God can move things about as God wills, without any reference or deference to that in which humans put their trust. Paul and Jesus seem to be plugged into that greater mission, such that the seeming permanence of certain human institutions, whether those be political or theological institutions, are but as nothing for God the Seeker. So this is why Jesus can avoid those who are searching for him and instead go off in search of others who haven't yet heard his name. And this is why Paul can appear to leave his convictions at the door when he models himself to those who are inside, but really he is plugging himself into a motivation greater than the "convictions" that he held so dear (see also Phil 3).
It is a great and glorious revelation, a gift from God, to discover that we do not have to mold to a particular form. Would that we really did allow for diversity in worship, so that by all means we might win some. How revolutionary would THAT be for Christian ministry, worship, evangelism, and discipleship? Amen.
Friday, February 6, 2009
What were you doing last year?
I've already told this story before, in a sermon/testimony in front of the student prayer meeting back in August (I think), but it certainly bears repeating. This is a significant day for for me, to which point I shall return in a moment. But first, to quote my seminary president, from a time before this was my seminary and before he was the president:
Yep. One year ago today. Four months and eleven days after that message, I had wheels down in Manila. That was an amazingly fast turnaround by anyone's reckoning, and even though "normal" is merely a setting on a dryer, my situation was not "normal" by any stretch of the imagination.
This email, my response to it, and the machinations that took place to evaluate, appoint, and train me together constituted the fulfillment of a more-than-decade-old dream. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Dr. Modine,Thus began the whirlwind tour. And this message was dated February 6, 2008.
Greetings from Asia-Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary. Our school is located near Manila in the Philippines...
We are looking for a teacher in Old Testament...
Would you be interested in applying for this position?
Yep. One year ago today. Four months and eleven days after that message, I had wheels down in Manila. That was an amazingly fast turnaround by anyone's reckoning, and even though "normal" is merely a setting on a dryer, my situation was not "normal" by any stretch of the imagination.
This email, my response to it, and the machinations that took place to evaluate, appoint, and train me together constituted the fulfillment of a more-than-decade-old dream. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
RIP Grandpa (Sort of), or maybe Uncle
I learned that, on the same day I posted the entry about my readings for January, one of my theological influences died in his sleep. Dr. John Allan Knight, former General Superintendent in the Church of the Nazarene (roughly equivalent to bishop, but not considered a third order of ministry), former educator and university president, historical theologian, passed away during the night on February 1.
Dr. Knight was part of a great shift in Wesleyan/holiness theology, the implications of which are still being felt. He contributed, along with Dr. Mildred Bangs Wynkoop(†
Alternatively, if sin is a thing, a substance, then this renders both the Incarnation and salvation logically impossible. The Incarnation becomes impossible since, if sin is a thing that defines the essential quality of humanity then Christ could not have become fully human. (Aside: The objection could be raised that Christ did not take on fallen human nature, but human nature as it was supposed to be, in its "pre-fall" state; but this is Docetism.) It further renders salvation impossible because the removal of something that is absolutely definitional of humanity, then salvation would leave behind something less than a human; a biblically abhorrent idea.
Well, anyway, we pray for the family of Dr. John Allan Knight, and the church that misses him.
Dr. Knight was part of a great shift in Wesleyan/holiness theology, the implications of which are still being felt. He contributed, along with Dr. Mildred Bangs Wynkoop(†
Alternatively, if sin is a thing, a substance, then this renders both the Incarnation and salvation logically impossible. The Incarnation becomes impossible since, if sin is a thing that defines the essential quality of humanity then Christ could not have become fully human. (Aside: The objection could be raised that Christ did not take on fallen human nature, but human nature as it was supposed to be, in its "pre-fall" state; but this is Docetism.) It further renders salvation impossible because the removal of something that is absolutely definitional of humanity, then salvation would leave behind something less than a human; a biblically abhorrent idea.
Well, anyway, we pray for the family of Dr. John Allan Knight, and the church that misses him.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Reading list--January 2009
I'm starting something else new with this entry. I may not continue it, because I may not (probably will not) continue the frenetic pace of reading I've established in January. I always start a year with grand intentions, only to fall off by the middle of February, or at least the beginning of March, but here goes anyway:
- Hans Küng, On Being a Christian (started in 2008)
- C. H. Dodd, The Parables of the Kingdom
- Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus
- William Barclay, The Apostle's Creed for Everyman
- Jill Middlemas, The Templeless Age: An Introduction to the History, Literature, and Theology of the "Exile"
- Susan Niditch, Folklore and the Hebrew Bible
- Alexander Heidel, The Babylonian Genesis (111 of 153 pages)
The Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany: How to move on
Deuteronomy 18:15-20; Psalm 111; 1 Corinthians 8:1-13; Mark 1:21-28
It is interesting that the Deuteronomic "test for prophets" should be the Old Testament reading just after I dealt with that text in class. Specifically, in Old Testament Theology we were discussing the issue of what it means to evaluate the claim that someone has been sent from God. The lectionary text cuts off before what I think is the most important, and yet most difficult to understand, part of Deut 18. For verses 21-22 go on to suggest that, in time to come, people may ask how to decide whether a prophet is from Yahweh. The crucial point there is whether the prophecy or prediction comes true. And it is perhaps better to say "prediction" there instead of "prophecy" in order to avoid the unfortunate identification of prophecy with predicting the future. There was something to that, certainly, but this is not the only thing that the prophets did. The prophets understood the present situation to a greater degree than their contemporaries, and were able to make "predictions" of the future based on that deeper understanding, but they were not in any sense exclusively lookers into the future, like modern-day fortune tellers or the quack of quacks Nostradamus. We should perhaps better think of the Old Testament prophets, in a way, like political pollsters. These people look for the likely behavior of voters in a given election (or even a hypothetical election), and while their predictions are usually fairly accurate, there is always the possibility of surprise on the actual election day. In that sense, no one REALLY knows the future. Knowing the future is more to be understood along the lines of having a more comprehensive knowledge of the possibilities that exist and how to actualize one or the other of them, and the implications that flow from that, and how to actualize one or the other of them, and so on.
Perhaps the only place where this test for prophets is actually applied is Jeremiah 28, the dispute between Jeremiah and Hananiah. There, Hananiah predicts more-or-less immediate restoration for the land, and Jeremiah adds onto Deut 18 the further condition that a prophet who predicts peace is the only one who should be thus tested. But Hananiah dies two months later, rather than having time to wait the full two years of his prophecy to see whether it fails or succeeds. As it turns out, Hananiah was not correct, but we can naturally ask the question whether he would be considered a martyr for the true faith if he was. In any event, both of them certainly had followers/disciples that carried on and supported their message, though it appears that a too-facile, too-hopeful prediction such as that associated with Hananiah soon faded off into the background, like often happens with hopeful predictions in the face of overwhelmingly negative situations.
Psalm 111 and 1 Corinthians 8 also deal with different religious kinds of affirmations. The Psalm is a praise to God for the works he has created. They are established forever, to be performed with faithfulness and uprightness. This seems to indicate something of humanity following in God's example, which is indeed a quite good religious idea. Mark 1 also suggests that Jesus followed in the example of John the Baptist, preaching a gospel of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Specifically, 1 Cor 8 and Mk 1 have to do with doing the work of God by setting aside the works of darkness. This is, it could be said, the "negative side" of the Gospel. Although, as was noted in my Doctrine of Holiness class on Friday, cutting out darkness is indeed a positive thing, a thing to be celebrated, it is "negative" in the sense of "subtracting," in this case subtracting evil and all those things which battle against the purposes of God. John Wesley said that those attitudes and actions that remain within a Christian after salvation are those things which war against the purposes of Christ, and which are progressively removed through growth in grace. See Rom 7 in particular for a Scriptural account of such indwelling sin, that continually crouches at the door (Gen 4, Heb 12), but which we can master through the help of God.
Human life is all about transitions, and religion and theology make it their business to speak important words in the midst of those transitions. Birth to maturation, maturation to feebleness, feebleness to death, death to life, these are the places where religion makes its home. And for all the times in between, God is to be praised, for his works will be established forever. And the gates of hell will not be able to withstand the onslaught. Amen.
It is interesting that the Deuteronomic "test for prophets" should be the Old Testament reading just after I dealt with that text in class. Specifically, in Old Testament Theology we were discussing the issue of what it means to evaluate the claim that someone has been sent from God. The lectionary text cuts off before what I think is the most important, and yet most difficult to understand, part of Deut 18. For verses 21-22 go on to suggest that, in time to come, people may ask how to decide whether a prophet is from Yahweh. The crucial point there is whether the prophecy or prediction comes true. And it is perhaps better to say "prediction" there instead of "prophecy" in order to avoid the unfortunate identification of prophecy with predicting the future. There was something to that, certainly, but this is not the only thing that the prophets did. The prophets understood the present situation to a greater degree than their contemporaries, and were able to make "predictions" of the future based on that deeper understanding, but they were not in any sense exclusively lookers into the future, like modern-day fortune tellers or the quack of quacks Nostradamus. We should perhaps better think of the Old Testament prophets, in a way, like political pollsters. These people look for the likely behavior of voters in a given election (or even a hypothetical election), and while their predictions are usually fairly accurate, there is always the possibility of surprise on the actual election day. In that sense, no one REALLY knows the future. Knowing the future is more to be understood along the lines of having a more comprehensive knowledge of the possibilities that exist and how to actualize one or the other of them, and the implications that flow from that, and how to actualize one or the other of them, and so on.
Perhaps the only place where this test for prophets is actually applied is Jeremiah 28, the dispute between Jeremiah and Hananiah. There, Hananiah predicts more-or-less immediate restoration for the land, and Jeremiah adds onto Deut 18 the further condition that a prophet who predicts peace is the only one who should be thus tested. But Hananiah dies two months later, rather than having time to wait the full two years of his prophecy to see whether it fails or succeeds. As it turns out, Hananiah was not correct, but we can naturally ask the question whether he would be considered a martyr for the true faith if he was. In any event, both of them certainly had followers/disciples that carried on and supported their message, though it appears that a too-facile, too-hopeful prediction such as that associated with Hananiah soon faded off into the background, like often happens with hopeful predictions in the face of overwhelmingly negative situations.
Psalm 111 and 1 Corinthians 8 also deal with different religious kinds of affirmations. The Psalm is a praise to God for the works he has created. They are established forever, to be performed with faithfulness and uprightness. This seems to indicate something of humanity following in God's example, which is indeed a quite good religious idea. Mark 1 also suggests that Jesus followed in the example of John the Baptist, preaching a gospel of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Specifically, 1 Cor 8 and Mk 1 have to do with doing the work of God by setting aside the works of darkness. This is, it could be said, the "negative side" of the Gospel. Although, as was noted in my Doctrine of Holiness class on Friday, cutting out darkness is indeed a positive thing, a thing to be celebrated, it is "negative" in the sense of "subtracting," in this case subtracting evil and all those things which battle against the purposes of God. John Wesley said that those attitudes and actions that remain within a Christian after salvation are those things which war against the purposes of Christ, and which are progressively removed through growth in grace. See Rom 7 in particular for a Scriptural account of such indwelling sin, that continually crouches at the door (Gen 4, Heb 12), but which we can master through the help of God.
Human life is all about transitions, and religion and theology make it their business to speak important words in the midst of those transitions. Birth to maturation, maturation to feebleness, feebleness to death, death to life, these are the places where religion makes its home. And for all the times in between, God is to be praised, for his works will be established forever. And the gates of hell will not be able to withstand the onslaught. Amen.
Another passing
Kuya Mike, a much beloved member of the staff, went to be with his Lord on Saturday. That now makes three people directly connected with our campus who have passed away in the previous five months. I suppose this is one of the things that happens when you have people who have been working in one place for 25 years as is the case with some of our staff members, but still...and in any event that doesn't even begin to make sense of what happened with little EJ. I tempted to say that God is wise, that his mercy and compassion far outstrip human understanding and leave it at that. While this is true, somehow in the middle of shock and grief it seems like a cop-out...
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