When thinking about the earlier post on Wright's seeming confusion, I tried to think about how I would reconcile the ideas he (and others) are presenting. I hope that this post will point out where the disconnect lies and why, as far as disconnects go, it's not that bad.
From my vantage point, it seems that there are at least 2 basic stories of the Christian life. The first says that by our baptism and Spirit-filling we have been united into Christ's death (judgment) and resurrection (salvation). As such, we are right now living the "saved" life. We are living in the midst of resurrection, of redemption, of salvation.
The second points out that, at the same time, we're not there yet. We look around ourselves (and even at ourselves) and don't see salvation. We don't see that perfect image of God's kingdom for which we hope. From this story, one would say that our sufferings, pains, and all the rest are actually joined into Christ's passion. Our sufferings link us to his sufferings.
Now both of these stories has problems. At the most basic level, the first seems naively optimistic, the latter deeply scary. And yet I think both have a good amount of warrant within the Christian tradition. We are there. We have been joined to the Godhood (or as one guy told me a few weeks ago, the "perichoretic flow of the Trinity"), a process called "theosis" in the Orthodox tradition and simply "sanctification" in the western forms. At the same time, our lives rarely reflect the beautiful life of the Spirit in community, or lush greenery of Eden reborn. Sometimes (most of the time in Wisconsin) you're left with gray skies that could do with a healthy dose of life. We're not there. We sometimes see little but a pit of deep dark despair (if you're struggling in this way, know that that dark despair is you looking at the cross) and hate everything when we look in a mirror.
I don't know yet how precisely I'd go about "reconciling" such stories, or even if such a reconciliation is necessary. But both are here.
So how do I want to make sense of Wright's statement on our deaths dealing with sin? Looking to story #2, I think we could say that just as our sufferings connect to Christ's sufferings, so our deaths connect to Christ's death. This would still leave the salvific, atoning qualities solely with the uniting to Christ (via the Spirit) himself while acknowledging that the act of dying in and of itself doesn't rid us of our previous sin and automatically transform us into perfection.
Showing posts with label Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church. Show all posts
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
Salvation: Knowing the Truth
This article in First Things gives an excellent big picture look of the history of soteriology, seen through the eyes of the Roman Catholic Church. The whole thing is good, but I want to ramble on this bit about Karl Rahner.
Imagine that a thick fog fills the room so that you cannot see anything. You walk in, tripping over someone else's foot, bumbling to find something to eat (poking yourself and many others in the eye), ending up with a plate of something that's as likely to be the plant from the middle of the table as it is to be food.
Some people would be horror stricken if it were thought that any true Christian could possibly entertain the notion that unevangelized people (those who haven't heard) could be "saved". After all, wouldn't such a theology destroy any need for missions?
Now think of my foggy dinner analogy. There might be one man who walks in, comfortably sits down to a plate of food, happens to pick up the right instruments, and proceeds to enjoy a wonderfully tasty (though probably not peaceful, with all those bumblers around him) meal. Why does he need evangelizing? Now imagine that the fog is cleared away and he sees clearly for the first time. Who's going to claim that that act is useless?
This isn't to say that I agree with Rahner's conclusions or theology in the least. What I am saying is that even if Rahner's wrong, it's not because his theology opposes missions.
Knowing the truth doesn't mean you're gonna act appropriately. Two men emerge from the fog and see the table. One man sees a knife and plunges it into his steak. Another man sees the knife and plunges it into his wife. Both men saw clearly and yet only one man understood.
One of the most interesting developments in post-conciliar theology has been Karl Rahner’s idea of “anonymous Christians.” He taught that God offers his grace to everyone and reveals himself in the interior offer of grace. Grace, moreover, is always mediated through Christ and tends to bring its recipients into union with him. Those who accept and live by the grace offered to them, even though they have never heard of Christ and the gospel, may be called anonymous Christians.Here's my analogy. Imagine that salvation is eating dinner. You sit down at the table, request the steak, which is promptly passed, pull our your knife and fork, and slice away (my apologies to vegetarians out there, but I like eating meat).
Although Rahner denied that his theory undermined the importance of missionary activity, it was widely understood as depriving missions of their salvific importance. Some readers of his works understood him as teaching that the unevangelized could possess the whole of Christianity except the name. Saving faith, thus understood, would be a subjective attitude without any specifiable content. In that case, the message of the gospel would have little to do with salvation.
Imagine that a thick fog fills the room so that you cannot see anything. You walk in, tripping over someone else's foot, bumbling to find something to eat (poking yourself and many others in the eye), ending up with a plate of something that's as likely to be the plant from the middle of the table as it is to be food.
Some people would be horror stricken if it were thought that any true Christian could possibly entertain the notion that unevangelized people (those who haven't heard) could be "saved". After all, wouldn't such a theology destroy any need for missions?
Now think of my foggy dinner analogy. There might be one man who walks in, comfortably sits down to a plate of food, happens to pick up the right instruments, and proceeds to enjoy a wonderfully tasty (though probably not peaceful, with all those bumblers around him) meal. Why does he need evangelizing? Now imagine that the fog is cleared away and he sees clearly for the first time. Who's going to claim that that act is useless?
This isn't to say that I agree with Rahner's conclusions or theology in the least. What I am saying is that even if Rahner's wrong, it's not because his theology opposes missions.
Knowing the truth doesn't mean you're gonna act appropriately. Two men emerge from the fog and see the table. One man sees a knife and plunges it into his steak. Another man sees the knife and plunges it into his wife. Both men saw clearly and yet only one man understood.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Exporting schism
This is just painful to read.
via Leithart.com
via Leithart.com
During the 19th century, various European states forcibly united divided churches. A similar thing happened in Zaire in 1970. Mbiti writes, "the Eglise du Christ au Zaire . . . brought together Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Disciples and a host of other Protestant traditions." The Church of Christ became the only recognized Protestant body in Zaire, but "the member churches (or Communautes, as they are called) have much freedom to function more or less according to their former traditions."Lord, pour your grace upon us, make us to grow in you, and fill us with the Spirit, that we may mature into your deliverers of your gospel, of your justice, that we may begin the cleanup of the messes we continue to make.
Mbiti is not sure this is good for the church, but he suggests that Zaire might send a warning that "if church leaders and decision makers are slow to consummate unions ecclesiastically and theologically, governments may take the leads and demand unity among the churches or even enforce it politically and administratively."
Despite his doubts, he says that if this happens "I shall not be the first to shed tears over it."
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
I confess...
Recently, there has been a 'confessions' meme circulating the internet that looks to be really interesting. Though I'm still somewhat unsure as to its broader purpose, it does seem to do a good job clarifying the various influences, speculations, and approaches that impinge upon our Christian thinking (and upon the thinking Christian).
I confess that I believe orthopraxy trumps orthodoxy (right living > right thinking), even though I spend much more time on the latter.
I confess that I really don't understand or practice discipline...[yet].
I confess that most of my theological influences have been from high church, paedobaptist, Real Presence, reformed and Roman Catholic thinkers.
I confess that much of my theology is probably more Wright than right, and possibly more Chestertonian than Chalecedonian.
I confess that I want to be filled with joy and hope much more than my face or my heart normally shows.
I confess that academic rigor often seems more trustworthy than common sense (which is often both uncommon and nonsensical).
I confess that I probably read more blogs and electronic essays than I do real books.
I confess that, in my view, denominations tend to be tendentious. For the most part, they seem to distract us from God's purposes in the world so we can focus our energies on clarifying the differences between us and them. It has turned many well-meaning, thoughtful Christians into heresy-hunters who care more about being right than spreading the gospel.
I confess that I make up most of my arguments on the spot...and then promptly forget them.
I confess that I know virtually nothing of anabaptist thought.
I confess that I'm fed more from Bible studies, random discussions, and radio programs than from going to church on the Lord's day.
I confess that my attempts to defend, empower, and extol church fellowship are more of an effort to convince myself than to convince others.
I confess that most of my deeply rooted friendships (aside from family relationships) are not rooted in the church.
I confess that, in my life, the workings of the Spirit are shrouded mysteries, and I tend to mistrust those who think the Spirit is simple and clear.
I confess that I don't know if pacifism is a proper part of the Christian life.
I confess that I believe orthopraxy trumps orthodoxy (right living > right thinking), even though I spend much more time on the latter.
I confess that I really don't understand or practice discipline...[yet].
I confess that most of my theological influences have been from high church, paedobaptist, Real Presence, reformed and Roman Catholic thinkers.
I confess that much of my theology is probably more Wright than right, and possibly more Chestertonian than Chalecedonian.
I confess that I want to be filled with joy and hope much more than my face or my heart normally shows.
I confess that academic rigor often seems more trustworthy than common sense (which is often both uncommon and nonsensical).
I confess that I probably read more blogs and electronic essays than I do real books.
I confess that, in my view, denominations tend to be tendentious. For the most part, they seem to distract us from God's purposes in the world so we can focus our energies on clarifying the differences between us and them. It has turned many well-meaning, thoughtful Christians into heresy-hunters who care more about being right than spreading the gospel.
I confess that I make up most of my arguments on the spot...and then promptly forget them.
I confess that I know virtually nothing of anabaptist thought.
I confess that I'm fed more from Bible studies, random discussions, and radio programs than from going to church on the Lord's day.
I confess that my attempts to defend, empower, and extol church fellowship are more of an effort to convince myself than to convince others.
I confess that most of my deeply rooted friendships (aside from family relationships) are not rooted in the church.
I confess that, in my life, the workings of the Spirit are shrouded mysteries, and I tend to mistrust those who think the Spirit is simple and clear.
I confess that I don't know if pacifism is a proper part of the Christian life.
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Sunday, March 18, 2007
Unity
Tonight I was talking with (actually, it was probably more 'to' him) a young brother about the idea of unity in the church. I told him that I thought unity was absolutely fundamental, even to the point of saying that I would rather there be physical fights in the midst of the church over doctrinal issues rather than the unity be broken (unless that unity has been broken by the denial of Jesus' Lordship...unforgivable sin?...we can talk about that later). After saying this, I started talking about some of Paul's letters where, I think, his major point is that of unity: Romans, 1 Corinthians, Galatians, and James (though I'm not far enough through James to say for sure). Here is my own cartoonish breakdown of the points of each letter:
Ok, this is all to get to another point, namely that of authority. Earlier, I had suggested to brother #1 that authority exists because of unity. Let me explain, I think that the reason only clergy (elders, priests, whatever) should give the Eucharistic meal is that they are the focal point for what brings that particular group of people together. They are the closest thing we get to true unity in the local church. As such, the meal that is all about that unity (remember Galatians) of the church should really be given by the symbol of that unity. We should also remember the whole heresy of Donatism, which says (from my ver limited perspective) that the effectiveness of the sacraments is not based on the moral quality of the person giving it. In other words, it's the position that matters, not the minister. For Protestants who are uncomfortable with this, think about wisdom that you get from preaching; is the wisdom not from God (or less so) if the minister is in sin? If you accept this, then it gets a little bit easier see that the priest or elder or whatever is acting in personae Christi (I probably spelled that wrong), not because he is granted this authority from the eldership (or another ruling council), but because he is the acting as the unifying factor of a particular community that is 'in Christ'.
Finally, then, we can start to see a bit more clearly our own roles in the body of Christ stem from this unity, which sees other roles in the body of Christ besides teachers (1 Cor 12). And I know this might seem frightening to some TULIP-ists, but it also demonstrates that it is possible for us to act outside of our own particular roles within the community. At these times, we are not acting 'in Christ' (under his Kingly rule) but under our own. But at the same time, he has taken those times that we have strayed from his rule via his representational role as King (see the Old Testament, what happens to the king happens to the people and vice versa), was crucified and was then vindicated. As long as we remain within his people, we are promised the same vindication, the same resurrection after we are judged before the throne. How do we know we are his people? I'm not as sure about this part, but I think we recognize this in ourselves and in each other by faith (see Romans) giving us assurance of a favorable judgment (thusly suggesting Rom 10:12-13) though something about the Spirit's fruit and the sacraments (specifically baptism and the Eucharist) might also be suggested, but also definitively meaning that we will act in love, fulfilling the law and thusly receiving the favorable judgment.
Sorry, I know this is rather jumbled, but I though the whole thing about acting out our own unifying positions (known via our gifts) in the church (and thusly in the kingdom), correlating to elders/priests acting out their own unifying roles, as a source of ethics/ecclesiology was pretty darn interesting. Thoughts...?
1. Romans (cf Rom 15:1-7) - We are justified by faith (and not by circumcision, etc...) and should therefore act as the unified whole by being 'in Christ' (especially by taking part in his suffering for the sake of each other).Afterwards, another brother came up and thought that I may be emphasizing unity too much (kind of like saying, 'it's all about love' or 'it's all about peace'). Here I had to both agree and disagree. I agree that unity is a common theme because it plays a key role in the common story, so it comes up again and again. But, in another way I disagreed, wanting to say that these letters were written to church's in the explicit hope that they would be unified in Christ. The incarnation might crop up again and again (Christian metaphysics?), love might be all over the place (Christian ethics?), and peace is quite common (Christian aesthetics?), but this doesn't mean that they're all the same thing.
2. 1 Corinthians (cf 1 Cor 1:10-13) - Acting 'in Christ' means acting in the full knowledge and hope of our own resurrection (see 1 Cor 15), guaranteed by his own (notice that this resurrection implies action in verse 58).
3. Galatians (cf Gal 2-3, especially Peter's sin in 2:12) - Justification by faith directly implies that our fellowship, that our sharing of communion, that our unity is demonstrated (guaranteed?) by our faith, not by our circumcision.
4. James - This implication must be carried out (you can't just say that we are unified, you must do it), whether it means sitting by the lowly in church (Ja 2) or teaching wisely and carefully in church (Ja 3) leading to wisdom with peace and without partiality (very unifying characteristics, I must say).
Ok, this is all to get to another point, namely that of authority. Earlier, I had suggested to brother #1 that authority exists because of unity. Let me explain, I think that the reason only clergy (elders, priests, whatever) should give the Eucharistic meal is that they are the focal point for what brings that particular group of people together. They are the closest thing we get to true unity in the local church. As such, the meal that is all about that unity (remember Galatians) of the church should really be given by the symbol of that unity. We should also remember the whole heresy of Donatism, which says (from my ver limited perspective) that the effectiveness of the sacraments is not based on the moral quality of the person giving it. In other words, it's the position that matters, not the minister. For Protestants who are uncomfortable with this, think about wisdom that you get from preaching; is the wisdom not from God (or less so) if the minister is in sin? If you accept this, then it gets a little bit easier see that the priest or elder or whatever is acting in personae Christi (I probably spelled that wrong), not because he is granted this authority from the eldership (or another ruling council), but because he is the acting as the unifying factor of a particular community that is 'in Christ'.
Finally, then, we can start to see a bit more clearly our own roles in the body of Christ stem from this unity, which sees other roles in the body of Christ besides teachers (1 Cor 12). And I know this might seem frightening to some TULIP-ists, but it also demonstrates that it is possible for us to act outside of our own particular roles within the community. At these times, we are not acting 'in Christ' (under his Kingly rule) but under our own. But at the same time, he has taken those times that we have strayed from his rule via his representational role as King (see the Old Testament, what happens to the king happens to the people and vice versa), was crucified and was then vindicated. As long as we remain within his people, we are promised the same vindication, the same resurrection after we are judged before the throne. How do we know we are his people? I'm not as sure about this part, but I think we recognize this in ourselves and in each other by faith (see Romans) giving us assurance of a favorable judgment (thusly suggesting Rom 10:12-13) though something about the Spirit's fruit and the sacraments (specifically baptism and the Eucharist) might also be suggested, but also definitively meaning that we will act in love, fulfilling the law and thusly receiving the favorable judgment.
Sorry, I know this is rather jumbled, but I though the whole thing about acting out our own unifying positions (known via our gifts) in the church (and thusly in the kingdom), correlating to elders/priests acting out their own unifying roles, as a source of ethics/ecclesiology was pretty darn interesting. Thoughts...?
Friday, February 16, 2007
"Crazy" Talk and the Church
This evening, Bro Ted Witzig, who acts as Clinical Director for Apostolic Christian Counseling and Family Services, gave a talk on both his organization and how we as a church should respond to mental health issues. During it, I was able to take a few quotations and hopefully give y'all a sense of what he said.
1. ACCFS is not the somewhere to go after the church fails, but is acting out the church's success.
Basically he discussed the approach, issues, and myths that surround these counseling services and how they are not separate from the church, but a vital part of it. As such we, as a body, should not try to cover up mental health issues, but remember the resources that we have available. Part of this process is tearing down the mental blocks and emotional barriers that stand in the way of allowing these groups (and thus the church) to live out their gifts.
2. You don't have to know what to do; you just have to do what you know.
He reminded us that although we tend to be comfortable helping people with physical disabilities by visiting them, offering prayers, sending cards, inviting them to lunch, etc, we don't react the same with people who are suffering from mental illness (even though we should). We need to be willing be there for them, even when we don't have the answers. We're called to, as NT Wright says, live and pray where the world is in pain. We're not called to fix their problems or run away from them. We are called to be there.
3. Take off your shoes, for church ground is holy ground.
When the church works in the world (whether this is calling someone up, crying with them, or repairing the shingles on a leaky roof), God's saving and redeeming presence is really and truly present. What more could we want out of sacramental living? Part of this is also remembering the limitations of those around us and living with them in humility. He noted that our expectations of our ministers are out of line. He's right. We need to live with them as people, not as images of perfection, who are striving for servant hood.
1. ACCFS is not the somewhere to go after the church fails, but is acting out the church's success.
Basically he discussed the approach, issues, and myths that surround these counseling services and how they are not separate from the church, but a vital part of it. As such we, as a body, should not try to cover up mental health issues, but remember the resources that we have available. Part of this process is tearing down the mental blocks and emotional barriers that stand in the way of allowing these groups (and thus the church) to live out their gifts.
2. You don't have to know what to do; you just have to do what you know.
He reminded us that although we tend to be comfortable helping people with physical disabilities by visiting them, offering prayers, sending cards, inviting them to lunch, etc, we don't react the same with people who are suffering from mental illness (even though we should). We need to be willing be there for them, even when we don't have the answers. We're called to, as NT Wright says, live and pray where the world is in pain. We're not called to fix their problems or run away from them. We are called to be there.
3. Take off your shoes, for church ground is holy ground.
When the church works in the world (whether this is calling someone up, crying with them, or repairing the shingles on a leaky roof), God's saving and redeeming presence is really and truly present. What more could we want out of sacramental living? Part of this is also remembering the limitations of those around us and living with them in humility. He noted that our expectations of our ministers are out of line. He's right. We need to live with them as people, not as images of perfection, who are striving for servant hood.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Mental Health Presentation
For anyone interested in mental health and its connection with the church at large who happens to be near Bluffton this Friday, this announcement is for you.
Topical Presentation next Friday evening at 7pm at the Hall. Bro Ted Witzig Jr. will be speaking on: Understanding the most common mental health issues and relationship problems; how you can help someone who is struggling; and how the church can respond in an encouraging way. It will be for people who have gone through struggles as well as those interested in knowing how to help others.
Friday, February 09, 2007
on Eucharist
What role does the Eucharist play in the life of the Church?
It seems that the many churches that enact closed communion believe that communion is a sign of church unity. Christians who attend other churches are not able to partake in the Eucharist in this situation because they are not considered to be in union with the church that is providing it. I know there are also reasons having to do with individual purity and such concerns (Paul goes into these in 1 Corinthians), but to be honest, this doesn't seem like a convincing argument unless you are willing to say that members of your church have attained that height of purity and that in restricting communion to them alone, you are in a sense protecting others from their own impurity. This seems arrogant to me...but maybe I'm muddled on this.
What interests me, though, is the church unity argument. If I grant that the Lord's Supper is integral to church unity (as I believe that it is), I still struggle with the actual role that it plays. The closed communion position seems to see it as a sign of unity. But I wonder if the Eucharist is actually the source of our unity. If it is actually partaking of Christ's body and thusly becoming one with him and the righteousness of God (God's covenant faithfulness) and our own resurrection in his glory, then the Eucharist is more than the simple outworking of the church's unity. It is in the eating that the church is unified.
It seems that the many churches that enact closed communion believe that communion is a sign of church unity. Christians who attend other churches are not able to partake in the Eucharist in this situation because they are not considered to be in union with the church that is providing it. I know there are also reasons having to do with individual purity and such concerns (Paul goes into these in 1 Corinthians), but to be honest, this doesn't seem like a convincing argument unless you are willing to say that members of your church have attained that height of purity and that in restricting communion to them alone, you are in a sense protecting others from their own impurity. This seems arrogant to me...but maybe I'm muddled on this.
What interests me, though, is the church unity argument. If I grant that the Lord's Supper is integral to church unity (as I believe that it is), I still struggle with the actual role that it plays. The closed communion position seems to see it as a sign of unity. But I wonder if the Eucharist is actually the source of our unity. If it is actually partaking of Christ's body and thusly becoming one with him and the righteousness of God (God's covenant faithfulness) and our own resurrection in his glory, then the Eucharist is more than the simple outworking of the church's unity. It is in the eating that the church is unified.
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