Blizzard reading

We had the great weekend blizzard in the DC area this weekend, so I succumbed to the temptation to reread a couple of old friends. So I read the first 2 books in the 1632 series by Eric Flint (and in the case of 1633, David Weber). Fun alternate history stuff. Lots of interesting historical sidelights on the early 1600s. Mostly a fun romp. Good for when you are shut in, I think.

Christ of the Celts

In line with my international emphasis on this snowy weekend (DC area is supposed to get 20-30 inches), I picked up the book Christ of the Celts by J. Philip Newell. It seemed like a good prospect till I read the introduction. The author draws on non-canonical materials like the Acts of John and the Secret Book of John (what do they have to do with Christianity? Well, they don’t follow that later oppressive orthodoxy – those who read the Da Vinci Code know the drill). And, in his summary of the chapter content, he clearly seems to line up as: anti-original sin, anti-penal substitution, anti-individual salvation, anti-creation ex nihilo, and advocate of some sort of (at least) quasi-pantheistic “the entire universe is pervaded with divine life and we are all part of that one reality. I almost stopped there, but since it was an easy read and is fairly highly ranked on Amazon, I thought, I’ll plow through a few chapters anyway, not being sure I’d get anything much of worth.

One illustration in the first chapter at least. From Alexander Scott (19th century), the idea of the golden thread that holds together a royal garment is applied to the image of God, which is a fundamental truth about our human existence. It’s not bad, and the point he is making in the chapter that a stress on human sinfulness without a balancing stress on the image is off-kilter is fine too. But the exposition of the Secret Book of John that occupies the middle of the chapter is not only unhelpful, but seems to misread the material. It’s a gnostic text, so it’s not really about waking ourselves to our deepest reality (or some other 20th century sounding therapeutic reality) – it’s about rejecting the material world. One other interesting note from the chapter. In his discussion of the teaching of Eriugena (9th century), he seems pretty cavalier about whether Eriugena believed in a real Satan (seems to recognize he does, but then ignores and reinterprets his writings in line with the self-actualization line).

Well, too bad. I don’t think I’ll be wasting much time on this one. Too many other good books!

Hope for the World

Yesterday started working through Hope for the World by Roland Chia. It’s part of Intervarsity’s Christian Doctrine in Global Perspective series. The general concept is something I’m excited about; I believe that Christians would benefit from a theological dialog involving persons from a variety of social and cultural backgrounds. Chi is from Singapore, so brings an Asian perspective. Though to be fair, not as much of an Asian perspective as I would like in the first few chapters. Perhaps I’m being overly idealistic or expecting too much! The introduction does have a few references to some issues that are unique to an Asian context. But the next several chapters are biblical theologically oriented, and while good overall, I felt as I read them that I could have written them! I haven’t finished a detailed read, but as I skimmed through the rest of the book, it seemed that most of the theological reflection of global relevance was comparing/contrasting Christian eschatological views with those of important Asian religions/philosophies. Necessary and important, but I wonder if there is a need to go back to the beginning and allow something of the cultural context to shape the presentation in more fundamental ways; more integration perhaps? I have no clear idea what that would look like (as I’m not Asian), but structurally, it seemed awfully familiar. Perhaps my judgment will change as I go further in the book – this is a first impression, mind you. I’ll try and follow up on this effort.

One more note – the discussion of dispensationalism (mercifully brief at about 4 pages) was pretty thin and didn’t really seem to interact with the issues particularly effectively. Hal Lindsey was cited as the key representative (I’m not sure who really pays much attention to him anymore, though he was big when I was in high school in the 1970s!). There is a good chunk of critique of the dividing history into ages, followed by the observation that Stan Grenz didn’t think that was a central point (if not, why spend 20% of your space on that issue – just wondering). And one of the last critiques was one of those: “one can imagine how this view might lead to a particular unhealthy conclusion, though I won’t bother to show any evidence that it actually does and I have to admit that it mostly doesn’t” kind of criticism. Annoying, but may simply be due to a rather deficient education in this issue (which is fully understandable). In the end, this doesn’t detract overmuch from the worth of the volume, but wanted to jot down my thoughts anyway!

On Tintin

While not currently reading them, I (and my children) have always enjoyed the Tintin stories by Herge. I even have a couple of Tintin ties. We have even occasionally “evangelized” for the series, encouraging others to enjoy the adventures. Several recent books about the author and the series are reviewed in an interesting essay. They sound interesting, but I think the concluding paragraph is pretty close to on target:

This sense of being outside of time, which Hergé worked so hard to create, is one of the deep springs of Tintin’s popularity. Children, who have a similar sense of existing outside of normal adult time, identify with it. For them, as for Tintin, what matters are the attachments and attractions that surround them here and now. And though I no longer think like that, Hergé’s work is so skilful that when I read Tintin today, I slip back into his timeless world. Apostolidès and Assouline try valiantly to pull back the curtain and show us the ropes and pulleys of Hergé’s magic act. But I am not sure that we want this. Tintin is too good a trick to spoil with explanations.

Evangelical Disenchantment

Started a new book I just picked up: Evangelical Disenchantment: A Portrait of Faith and Doubt by David Hempton. A series of short biographical studies of late 19th/early 20th century un-converts to various types of evangelicalism, the book seeks to increase understanding of the movement by looking at those who first embraced and then turned away from evangelicalism. Those examined include George Eliot, Frances Newman (brother of John Henry), Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Vincent Van Gogh and James Baldwin. The subjects were chosen for their clear discussion of the factors contributing to their development in this area and for light they might shed on other related issues (e.g., gender, race). The introduction provides a good description of several different ways to define/explain evangelicalism (a perennial problem), including Bebbington, Marsden and Ward.

Perhaps of most interest is the discussion of these figures as representative of a larger “leakage” from the movement. Though evangelicalism has recruited converts faster than t has lost through deconversion (at least so the statistics say!), many high profile figures (and in other cases, their children) have abandoned the faith, which ought to raise concern. Hempton interestingly does not include scientists, because scientists have been more successful at integrating their faith with their vocation:

For all the well-known and oft debated problems associated with reconciling faith and science, the ability to reconcile artistic creativity with Christian orthodoxy has proved to b e a much bigger stumbling block for the evangelical tradition. Part fo the reason for that lies in the long-standing evangelical distrusts of the evils of fiction, theatrer, and the visual arts, or indeed anything to do with those strictly imaginative pursuits that emphasize passion over piety.

A persistent issue that has repeatedly shown up in my reading over the past year. One more issue is highlighted, the anti-intellectual:

Its instinct was from the first against intelligence. No text found more favor with it than ‘Not may wise, not may learned.’ A tradition built on the absolute authority of the Bible and, as time went on , on propositional statements of faith has apparently left little creative space for intellectual pursuits or the unfettered imagination.

Two Russian Stories

I try to stress to my theology students that theology is contextual, so two Russian stories from Anthony Bloom are worth capturing as examples.

First, in his discussion of intercession (which is more than asking on behalf of, but is actually interceding personally for the other), he describes how God has interceded in that way with humanity:

He has made himself solid with everyone. We discovered as exiled Russians in the early days of emigration when we had lost everything, when there was nothing left standing for us, when we were unwanted, rejected, despised, helpless, vulnerable to the utmost, we discovered we had also lost the God of the great cathedrals, the God of the beautifully engineered ceremonials. Where did we stand? When we looked at ourselves, we discovered that we had lost faith in ourselves and very often self-respect. And then we discovered our God in a new way. We discovered that in Christ God has revealed Himself as vulnerable, as helpless, as contemptible, as overcome and vanquished, as trodden under foot, as rejected, and we discovered that we had a God who was not ashamed of us, because He had made himself solid with what we were, in our misery, in our deprivation, in our rejection, and also that we had no reason to be ashamed of a God who knew how to love to the extent that He was prepared to become one of us…

The second account is the story of Natalie from the 1919 Russian war. The wife of an officer in the White Army, in a city occupied by the Red Army, was in hiding until Natalie arrived to tell her she was betrayed and would soon be killed. Due to her limited mobility (due to two small children), she is fearful she can not get away. Natalie intercedes for her – she says I will stay and they will kill me, as I have no children. Bloom then compares her to another who though innocent, willingly subjected himself to a horrible death on behalf of others. He concludes the story:

Natalie probably asked herself the same question–was it in vain that she was dying? There was no answer, only the hours passed, the cold of the early morning came and with it, death. The door was brutally opened and they did not even take the trouble of dragging her out. She was shot where she was at.

This is the answer which the Christian can give to the tragedy of history. The place where we must stand. Natalie stood where Christ had stood, and where Christ indeed stands now, risen in heaven with His hands and sides seared with nails and the spear. He stands at the very heart of human history, human suffering, human death, human anguish and tragedy. But he stands there like a rock.

And there too, we are called to stand, to drink that cup of suffering, to answer the call “Here am I, send me”, to go out as sheep among wolves.

More from Anthony Bloom

Read the second essay, Doubt and the Christian and again found it enjoyable. I’m very happy I picked up two books by Bloom! Explaining doubt, he says:

Doubt is not simply contradiction. Doubt is a moment of dividedness, a dichotomy in our minds; a moment when, having followed a very simple straight road, we come to a fork, and we ask ourselves “Do I go this way or that way?”

He makes an interesting contrast between the role of doubt for the scientist (a systematic weapon, a joy!) and for the believer (anguish). He then (as someone trained in science) suggests lessons from the scientific attitude. The doubt of the scientist is not a doubt in reality, but only in the model or theory which explains reality. Truth is (as he uses it) a model of an underlying reality, a reality that must be perceived and expressed – both of which aspects are imperfect. Further, he notes that truth can be static (like a snapshot that is accurate, but creates an imperfect and even distorted reflection of reality – it is true but does not express the truth). He advocates a more dynamic view of the expression of truth which is even in a sense a falsification of reality:

This is what we are always doing in theology or philosophy: we falsify things when we want to convey a dynamic moment, but often the reader takes them to be an adequate and immobile picture of what reality it [sic]. This is true, for instance, of the trinity.

He goes further to explain how this works:

If we think of a scientist and a believer, then we will see that the scientist’s doubt is systematic, it is surging, it is joyful, it is destructive of what he has done himself because he believes in the reality that is beyond and not in the model that he has constructed. This we must learn as believers for our spiritual life both in the highest forms of theology and in the small simple concrete experience of being a Christian. Whenever we are confronted with a crossroads, whenever we are in doubt, whenever our mind sees two alternatives, instead of saying “Oh God, make me blind, Oh God help me not to see, Oh God give me loyalty to what I know now to be untrue” we should say “God is casting a ray of light which is a ray of reality on something I have outgrown–the smallness of my original vision. I have come to a point when I can see more and deeper, thanks be to God.”

If only that was more regularly our attitude.

Wired for Ministry

I’ve begun working through Wired for Ministry by John P. Jewell. While it has a practical strand, it is more fundamentally an attempt to think through the theological implications of technology for ministry. Lots of interesting insights. I’ll highlight a few things:

Three basic themes:

• Connectivity and Connection: the difference between tools which enable connection and actual connection and community.
• Transportation and Communication: the difference between technological means and genuine communication
• Chaos and community: how proper understanding of ministry and technology enables us to integrate technology rather than impose it on ministry

Dangers of Technology:

• Intrusiveness: when the technology overwhelms or hinders the message (including the glitch factor)
• Messianic: when technology becomes the focus rather than the message

A warning:

Digitizing the church does not necessarily lead to community; in fact, there are important differences between virtual communities and “real” communities.

Obviously there is more (and the rest of the book is more positive and constructive, so don’t misinterpret these as anti-technology points), but that will wait till later.

God and Man by Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh

This is a different one. I came across this over Christmas, picked it up today, and found myself fascinated. The book, God and Man by Anthony Bloom, late head of the Russian Orthodox Patriarchal Church in Great Britain and Ireland (quite a title, that), is called a classic book of Orthodox spirituality on the back cover. I’ll have a better opinion on that when I get a bit further, but the first section is wonderful. Titled “The Atheist and the Archbiship”, it is a transcript of a 1970 television appearance with the atheist Marghanita Laski. It’s an engaging bit of apologetics. Respectful yet pointed, emphasizing the factual nature of religious faith and emphasizing the joy and beauty at the heart of Christianity. I found it encouraging. I’m glad I took the time today for this and look forward to future sections.

First Lord’s Fury

Finally got a copy of the last book in the Codex Alera series by Jim Butcher (First Lord’s Fury) and am working my way through it – has been a busy week. It’s nice to know it’s reaching an end. I’m beginning to weary (just a bit) of series of near infinite length. One of the fun notes throughout are the little hints that the setting is in the future (e.g., reference to an ancient document that describes the exploits of a Julius person) with no real explanation of how the connection is made. Perhaps he’s just having some fun, but I find it adds a bit of fun to the series.