Have you ever felt that Christmas is just a stepping block to Easter? The only reason we celebrate Christ’s birth is because Christ also died and one cannot die unless one is born. So we celebrate his birth. It almost seems somewhat tedious. The church spends four weeks preparing for his coming only so we can celebrate his death and resurrection. Most churches recognize the Advent season as a preparation for his coming (Advent actually means “coming”) and prepare sermons and worship accordingly. Yet, in all of our talk about Christ’s birth it is only a prelude to Easter, or even his 2nd coming. It’s almost as if Jesus became man in order to come again because it is only in his second coming that judgment and perfection occur. (I realize I am making broad sweeping claims. I also realize there are many churches who truly approach advent reverently and honestly).
I’ve been thinking a lot about the significance of Christmas this year. I’ve been looking at it more from a soteriological aspect than anything else. What does Christmas mean in the grand scheme of salvation? I think it goes deeper than just being born in order to get to the cross and ultimately to be raised to life. I think we venerate the cross and resurrection while leaving the incarnation behind. Or, as some would say, we place the point of the incarnation on the cross or at the point of the resurrection rather than in the baby Jesus. Thus Christmas is just a stepping block.
I think the incarnation plays a more important role in theology and in our lives than we Protestants would like to admit. St. Gregory the Theologian once wrote, “the unassumed is unhealed.” Man could not have been healed unless God had taken on man’s nature. God took on our humanity as an act of restoration, an act of deliverance, and ultimately an act of love. In other words, man cannot get to God so God comes to man. The ultimate goal of salvation is found in the incarnation. The birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus must be viewed as a whole with the same purpose of bringing man to bear the divine image. The Son of God became man in order to make man sons of God.
While I certainly assert that one cannot understand the birth of Jesus without wrestling with his death, I also assert that one cannot understand his death without first wrestling with his birth. I often think that most of our Protestant “salvation” messages leave out the incarnation. We spend so much time on a conversion “moment” of forgiveness that we dulled the message of salvation to the sole purpose of forgiveness of sin. While forgiveness is important, we leave out the incarnational message of Christ. Mainly, salvation is about wholeness and renewed life, not just about the heaven beyond life. Or, if I may be so bold, it is all about heaven. It is about heaven meeting earth, it is about the eternal touching the temporal, it is about the divine life assuming human suffering. “Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”
The incarnation puts into words the hope of our salvation: that we may be like Christ. The incarnation recognizes that peace is an alternate lifestyle. Christmas is a time to recognize that Christ’s birth is God identifying himself with man: the sinful, hurting, painful, suffering of humanity. This identity with man shows us not what is a distant potential but a coming, and already come, reality. We Christians live in this expectation, leaning into the future of love and peace as faithful witnesses to the Kingdom that Christ's birth brings. When we see replicas of baby Jesus in his manger full of hay, may we this year remember that the God-man does not merely offer us “a way around suffering, but a way through it; not substitution, but saving companionship” (Bishop Kallistos Ware of the Orthodox Church). I wonder if our salvation is found more in our relationship to the incarnational Christ (and to others) rather than some substitutional atonement. Perhaps salvation is found in the incarnation and resurrecting power of God while the cross actually becomes the way in which we are to live.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
A Response to the Colorado Shootings
“The church is God’s new will and purpose for humanity. God’s will is always directed toward the concrete, historical human being. But this means that it begins to be implemented in history. God’s will must become visible and comprehensible at some point in history.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer
The other day a former YWAM (Youth with a Mission) participant was denied a place to stay in an Arvada YWAM office. He was denied. He killed two young adults during that confrontation. Later, the gunman killed two teenagers at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. He would have killed more if he hadn’t been shot himself by a security guard at the church who carries a gun (did I mention this was at a church?). She is being praised as a hero who did not falter when needing to kill one of God’s children saying, “God was with me.”
I am deeply saddened by the loss of life. The five deceased (including the gunman) were my age or younger. Such horrendous action surely is not the will of God. I grieve for their families and pray that God shows mercy and compassion. But I also grieve for the church. I am deeply perplexed that at the place where we practice the liturgy, the place where we learn what it is to be Christian, and the place where we recognize Jesus’ self-sacrifice against the dominant powers of this world (and our call to do the same) we are carrying the same weapons of the world. Not only that, but we are proclaiming the presence of God in such action. What happened to Jesus’ words of living and dying by the sword (or in this case a gun)? Jesus’ words to Peter were a lesson against the myth of redemptive violence. I am reminded of Shane Claiborne’s words when he writes, “When it comes to the world’s logic of redemptive violence, Christians have a major stumbling block on their hands- namely, the cross.”
This is hard to imagine. We are conditioned to think that one death (especially the death of a murderer) is better than having 100 others dead. But what if God doesn’t think the same way we do. We serve a God who is always creating, always imaginative, and as a result we are created also to always re-imagine. Perhaps Walter Wink is correct in saying that “violence is for those who have lost their imagination.” The first 300 years of Christianity were an intense time for a small band of Jesus followers. They would die by the packs. Their witness was a testimony of love in the face of evil, suffering as Christ suffered.
The question of our day, the context that we are in and have been in, revolves not around some post-9/11 worldview but rather, how do we live in the light of the teachings, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. For sure, a truthful witness would have to deconstruct our views of war and poverty, violence and peace. So while America celebrates a hero, I wonder how faithful we are truly being to the peaceable Kingdom. I don’t have the answers. I do pray that we can begin to talk about what it means to walk like Jesus, to his death. Or, it might even be as easy as offering our hospitality, a place to stay for the night.
“Only by concentrating on Christ as its true and final end will the church give up its struggle to bring about the end prematurely and instead gladly give itself over to the long, patient labor of becoming a sacrament of Christ’s peaceable presence.” – Hauerwas
The other day a former YWAM (Youth with a Mission) participant was denied a place to stay in an Arvada YWAM office. He was denied. He killed two young adults during that confrontation. Later, the gunman killed two teenagers at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. He would have killed more if he hadn’t been shot himself by a security guard at the church who carries a gun (did I mention this was at a church?). She is being praised as a hero who did not falter when needing to kill one of God’s children saying, “God was with me.”
I am deeply saddened by the loss of life. The five deceased (including the gunman) were my age or younger. Such horrendous action surely is not the will of God. I grieve for their families and pray that God shows mercy and compassion. But I also grieve for the church. I am deeply perplexed that at the place where we practice the liturgy, the place where we learn what it is to be Christian, and the place where we recognize Jesus’ self-sacrifice against the dominant powers of this world (and our call to do the same) we are carrying the same weapons of the world. Not only that, but we are proclaiming the presence of God in such action. What happened to Jesus’ words of living and dying by the sword (or in this case a gun)? Jesus’ words to Peter were a lesson against the myth of redemptive violence. I am reminded of Shane Claiborne’s words when he writes, “When it comes to the world’s logic of redemptive violence, Christians have a major stumbling block on their hands- namely, the cross.”
This is hard to imagine. We are conditioned to think that one death (especially the death of a murderer) is better than having 100 others dead. But what if God doesn’t think the same way we do. We serve a God who is always creating, always imaginative, and as a result we are created also to always re-imagine. Perhaps Walter Wink is correct in saying that “violence is for those who have lost their imagination.” The first 300 years of Christianity were an intense time for a small band of Jesus followers. They would die by the packs. Their witness was a testimony of love in the face of evil, suffering as Christ suffered.
The question of our day, the context that we are in and have been in, revolves not around some post-9/11 worldview but rather, how do we live in the light of the teachings, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. For sure, a truthful witness would have to deconstruct our views of war and poverty, violence and peace. So while America celebrates a hero, I wonder how faithful we are truly being to the peaceable Kingdom. I don’t have the answers. I do pray that we can begin to talk about what it means to walk like Jesus, to his death. Or, it might even be as easy as offering our hospitality, a place to stay for the night.
“Only by concentrating on Christ as its true and final end will the church give up its struggle to bring about the end prematurely and instead gladly give itself over to the long, patient labor of becoming a sacrament of Christ’s peaceable presence.” – Hauerwas
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Visiting Chicago Theological Seminary
Yesterday, Marcus, Joy, and I traveled to Chicago to visit Chicago Theological Seminary. We had meetings with the admissions office, financial aide, and were able to attend chapel and a class. We wanted to gain an understanding of what the seminary was all about. I’m looking at an M.Div., and Marcus was exploring the MA program.
There was a point during the chapel service to express joys and prayer requests. A blonde woman, probably in her upper 50’s, spoke up. “It’s been a hard 10 days.” Her sister was having some heart problems. Her heart rate was over 200 beats per minute. The doctors were saying they needed to shock her to stop it and start it again in the hopes that the irregularity would stop. This blonde woman explained to her sister, “They have done this sort of thing to Dick Cheney, and he came out alive. You will too. The only difference is that you have a bigger heart than Cheney.” Everyone in the chapel started to laugh. The undeniable jab at Cheney for his lack of compassion was obvious. As it turns out, this blonde woman happened to be Susan Brown Thistlethwaite, the President of CTS. Later that day we were able to meet and share a little bit of time at lunch with her. She was genuine in her remarks when she explained that CTS was a place not to just talk good rhetoric about justice and mercy, but it is truly a place where justice is manifested for the common good.
This rhetoric is what attracted me to CTS in the first place. Their devotion to justice and mercy and their boast of inter-faith relations intrigued me. After the admissions portion of the visit, I think we were all feeling good about the seminary. It is located in Hyde Park. It had just snowed the night before and continued to snow heavily throughout the day. It truly was beautiful. But as the day progressed, so did our impression of CTS. After spending some time with the students and taking the tour, we were all glad we came to visit. Obviously our time there was limited to get a full idea of what CTS is, how the community interacts, and the relationship between theology and ministry. However, though we are comfortable and even welcome more liberal ideas and people, there was an essence of being liberal for liberal’s sake. One phrase that stuck out to me was said during that first session, “We are not doctrinally bound. We teach you how to think, not what to think.” And yet, when I look at the course listings, the Biblical literature or exegesis classes had a certain agenda (it usually revolved around gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, religious affiliation, and nationalism). The classes were built around the issues rather than focusing on the story and its practical interpretation (both for the people to whom it was original told/written and for us now). This is a very limited outlook. Obviously I have not taken these classes. I have only read the course description. However, it seemed like they were overemphasizing social spirituality and justice at the expense of the personal.
I long to study at a place that holds both the personal and the social, the individual and the corporate, and both justice and mercy as equally deserving and not mutually exclusive. I should here back from Duke any day.
There was a point during the chapel service to express joys and prayer requests. A blonde woman, probably in her upper 50’s, spoke up. “It’s been a hard 10 days.” Her sister was having some heart problems. Her heart rate was over 200 beats per minute. The doctors were saying they needed to shock her to stop it and start it again in the hopes that the irregularity would stop. This blonde woman explained to her sister, “They have done this sort of thing to Dick Cheney, and he came out alive. You will too. The only difference is that you have a bigger heart than Cheney.” Everyone in the chapel started to laugh. The undeniable jab at Cheney for his lack of compassion was obvious. As it turns out, this blonde woman happened to be Susan Brown Thistlethwaite, the President of CTS. Later that day we were able to meet and share a little bit of time at lunch with her. She was genuine in her remarks when she explained that CTS was a place not to just talk good rhetoric about justice and mercy, but it is truly a place where justice is manifested for the common good.
This rhetoric is what attracted me to CTS in the first place. Their devotion to justice and mercy and their boast of inter-faith relations intrigued me. After the admissions portion of the visit, I think we were all feeling good about the seminary. It is located in Hyde Park. It had just snowed the night before and continued to snow heavily throughout the day. It truly was beautiful. But as the day progressed, so did our impression of CTS. After spending some time with the students and taking the tour, we were all glad we came to visit. Obviously our time there was limited to get a full idea of what CTS is, how the community interacts, and the relationship between theology and ministry. However, though we are comfortable and even welcome more liberal ideas and people, there was an essence of being liberal for liberal’s sake. One phrase that stuck out to me was said during that first session, “We are not doctrinally bound. We teach you how to think, not what to think.” And yet, when I look at the course listings, the Biblical literature or exegesis classes had a certain agenda (it usually revolved around gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, religious affiliation, and nationalism). The classes were built around the issues rather than focusing on the story and its practical interpretation (both for the people to whom it was original told/written and for us now). This is a very limited outlook. Obviously I have not taken these classes. I have only read the course description. However, it seemed like they were overemphasizing social spirituality and justice at the expense of the personal.
I long to study at a place that holds both the personal and the social, the individual and the corporate, and both justice and mercy as equally deserving and not mutually exclusive. I should here back from Duke any day.
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