At Jesus Creed, the continued Evangelizing in the name of Christian Darwinism continues with a post by the prolific guest blogger RJS. The post is titled “Evolution, Belief, and the Virgin Birth” and features a discussion of a book by Robert Asher, “ Evolution and Belief: Confessions of a Religious Paleontologist.”
While I think I should be fair and say that I believe both RJS and Scott McKnight would profess to affirm tenets of the faith called into question by the author of the book, the rather uncritical discussion of the views and the ho-hum tone of the comments indicate a great deal of comfort with one who questions central doctrines of the historical Christian faith.
RJS has been a steadfast champion of Evolutionary Creationism, what used to be called Theistic Evolution. In the views presented in her posts, the primary constant is that science requires a commitment to seeking understanding of nature through natural processes alone. Though she is a theist and an adherent to Christianity, she sees natural law as vital to the scientific enterprise. Adding the possibility of interference from somewhere “outside of nature” is anathema to the science academy, which means no miracles are permitted, particularly in the discussion of origins. That raises a bit of a contradiction when EC’s deal with New Testament miracles such as the resurrection and virgin birth of Christ, as we shall see. (Read More)
Musings about Mere Christianity and its place in culture, with a hope to advance what has been believed "always, everywhere and by all".
Showing posts with label Mere Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mere Christianity. Show all posts
Friday, December 11, 2015
Friday, November 22, 2013
CS Lewis, 50 Years Ago
Hard to believe it was 50 years ago that JFK was assassinated. One of my earliest childhood memories was watching the flag draped coffin with Kennedy's body slowly passing down the streets on our old black and white TV with my parents. I had just turned four.
Unknown to me at that time was the life and death, the same day, of C.S. Lewis who probably influenced me more than any other person, save Christ Himself. I started reading Lewis in high school, first Mere Christianity, then The Screwtape Letters an later the Narnia books and the space trilogy. Lewis was a brilliant mind, but many have had a brilliant mind. No one wrote like Lewis, as Sherwood Wirt once said, Lewis had the ability to "make righteousness readable". His clever turns of phrases, proper British prose and logical argumentation combined to make thinking enjoyable.
Three articles caught my attention today.
Unknown to me at that time was the life and death, the same day, of C.S. Lewis who probably influenced me more than any other person, save Christ Himself. I started reading Lewis in high school, first Mere Christianity, then The Screwtape Letters an later the Narnia books and the space trilogy. Lewis was a brilliant mind, but many have had a brilliant mind. No one wrote like Lewis, as Sherwood Wirt once said, Lewis had the ability to "make righteousness readable". His clever turns of phrases, proper British prose and logical argumentation combined to make thinking enjoyable.
Three articles caught my attention today.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Christian Unity - And the Son...
Interesting little post at the Anglican site Virtue Online about the filioque clause in the Nicene Creed. For those unfamiliar, the filioque controversy surrounds a single phrase in the Nicene Creed. In the original version of the Creed, the Holy Spirit "proceeds from the Father". But at the council of Toledo in 589, the phrase was added that in English is translated "...and the Son", meaning that in some sense the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Son.
The issues are two: Does the Holy Spirit originate from the Son? Is the existence of the Holy Spirit contingent on the Son? (I'm not sure most who use the latter version of the Creed would assert that).
The issues are two: Does the Holy Spirit originate from the Son? Is the existence of the Holy Spirit contingent on the Son? (I'm not sure most who use the latter version of the Creed would assert that).
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
The Problem of Unity - Part 5
I wrote a meandering thought experiment on Christian unity a long time ago. More thoughts:
Here is a further illustration of the problem. Regarding the question, "What is essential?" we could attempt to categorize a list of doctrinal issues. We could categorize them in a descending hierarchy with the "Essential" things on top and the "non-essentials" on the bottom. The problem really lies in the middle, the things some consider essential, but which others either do not, or do not agree with. (More)
Here is a further illustration of the problem. Regarding the question, "What is essential?" we could attempt to categorize a list of doctrinal issues. We could categorize them in a descending hierarchy with the "Essential" things on top and the "non-essentials" on the bottom. The problem really lies in the middle, the things some consider essential, but which others either do not, or do not agree with. (More)
Monday, April 30, 2012
Savage
I feel compelled to respond to a couple of canards from Dan
Savage’s classless tirade that caused Christian students to walk out of a
presentation that was supposed to decry bullying.
Much has already been written about the inconsistency of a
speaker on the topic of bullying calling those who had the courage to walk out
on his ignorant and foul-mouthed nonsense en masse “wimps”. One wonders why the organizers of a
conference for high school students on journalism would invite a guy who used
crass and slanderous intimidation to slander Rick Santorum and licked doorknobs while ill in hopes of infecting Gary Bauer to speak as an
expert on preventing bullying, but that is another discussion.
I’ll not delve into issues of tone, the ethics of his
presentation, and speculation about what it is that drives this guy. I’ll just respond to some specific ideas.
Labels:
Faith and Reason,
Mere Christianity,
Morality
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
What is Heresy?
The flap over Rob Bell allegedly being called a heretic by Mark Driscoll raises an interesting question. What is heresy and how is it defined?
The late Harold O. J. Brown has suggested that after the Reformation, the term "heresy" is essentially meaningless. Why? Because the term seems to have referred to the notion of "going one's own way", that is: at a time when there was one unified church, those who departed from the teaching of that one unified church were heretics. Once the church ceased to be unified, "going one's own way" could no longer be termed heresy - there was no longer a singular arbiter of what was orthodox. In actuality, the term lost some of its meaning after the separation of the Eastern and Western churches in 1054. Can a Roman Catholic call an Orthodox a heretic with any real authority? It becomes a "he said/he said" conflict.
Yet the term is still used, probably too often. I do not think the term is meaningless, nor do I think Driscoll was entirely off base in saying Rob Bell was straying into heretical territory. Here's why.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Evangelical Catholicity - Simon Chan
I heard Simon Chan on the radio a few weeks ago. He is Professor of Systematic Theology at Trinity Theological College in Singapore, and has written a new book called Liturgical Theology: The Church as Worshiping Community. There is an intriguing article in Christianity Today, Stopping Cultural Drift, with and accompanying interview with Chan, More Than Saving Souls
His key points, that Evangelicals have no overaching ecclesiology, rather a view of the church as a utilitarian and voluntary association of people who unite to pursue a purpose, such as evangelism, and that as a result, evangelical worship and practice are too easily accommodated to the trends of culture. On the one hand these are not new observations, but Chan's foundational assumptions are different from most, very "paleo-orthodox".
The article and interview by Mark Galli points out Chan's view that "...the church cannot be understood as the creation of the devout, something that is merely the most efficient and effective way to organize ourselves to do mission."
His key points, that Evangelicals have no overaching ecclesiology, rather a view of the church as a utilitarian and voluntary association of people who unite to pursue a purpose, such as evangelism, and that as a result, evangelical worship and practice are too easily accommodated to the trends of culture. On the one hand these are not new observations, but Chan's foundational assumptions are different from most, very "paleo-orthodox".
The article and interview by Mark Galli points out Chan's view that "...the church cannot be understood as the creation of the devout, something that is merely the most efficient and effective way to organize ourselves to do mission."
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Legitimacy Part 2
Since I raised the question, I’ll make an attempt at an answer.
Even though many independent denominations have roots in the view point that Christians should have “no book but the Bible” and “no Creed but Christ”, it is clear that virtually all denominations feel it necessary to compose a statement of faith. It becomes a requirement very quickly that the doctrinal ideas that led to the formation of the individual denomination be written as a standard of how the Scriptures are to be understood within that subgroup and to prevent individuals from getting sidetracked from the original vision and mission of the group.
These doctrinal statements usually tend to at least be Trinitarian. They tend to emphasize the authority of scripture over tradition and tend to highlight certain distinctives that separate that group from other groups, such as pre-millennial eschatology, eternal security, or the independence of the local church. In other words, while tipping the hat to historic orthodoxy, these statements of faith serve to emphasize not the unity of the faith, but the differences between groups, even though on the central issues of the Nicene Creed, the groups may all tend to agree.
So we find the curious situation that denominations unwittingly identify themselves first and foremost by what separates them.
Even though many independent denominations have roots in the view point that Christians should have “no book but the Bible” and “no Creed but Christ”, it is clear that virtually all denominations feel it necessary to compose a statement of faith. It becomes a requirement very quickly that the doctrinal ideas that led to the formation of the individual denomination be written as a standard of how the Scriptures are to be understood within that subgroup and to prevent individuals from getting sidetracked from the original vision and mission of the group.
These doctrinal statements usually tend to at least be Trinitarian. They tend to emphasize the authority of scripture over tradition and tend to highlight certain distinctives that separate that group from other groups, such as pre-millennial eschatology, eternal security, or the independence of the local church. In other words, while tipping the hat to historic orthodoxy, these statements of faith serve to emphasize not the unity of the faith, but the differences between groups, even though on the central issues of the Nicene Creed, the groups may all tend to agree.
So we find the curious situation that denominations unwittingly identify themselves first and foremost by what separates them.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Legitimacy
This will almost certainly not come out the way I intend it. I am a believer, a committed Christian who is convinced of the truth of Christianity and the scriptures. But I want to ask a question, not about the faith, but about the legitimacy of the faith in the eyes of a pluralistic and post-Christian culture.
Some Jehovah’s Witnesses stopped by today and dropped off a pamphlet. It loudly proclaimed, “The End of False Religion is Near!” It went on to define false religions as those that meddle in war and politics, which spread false doctrine and which tolerate immoral sex. It identified true religion as the practice of love across cultural barriers; trust in God’s inspired Word; and the upholding of the family and of high moral standards. It even had an eschatological section about the great harlot of the book of Revelation, eerily similar to the popular end times scenarios I read as a teenager.
What strikes me is how similar this all sounds.
Some Jehovah’s Witnesses stopped by today and dropped off a pamphlet. It loudly proclaimed, “The End of False Religion is Near!” It went on to define false religions as those that meddle in war and politics, which spread false doctrine and which tolerate immoral sex. It identified true religion as the practice of love across cultural barriers; trust in God’s inspired Word; and the upholding of the family and of high moral standards. It even had an eschatological section about the great harlot of the book of Revelation, eerily similar to the popular end times scenarios I read as a teenager.
What strikes me is how similar this all sounds.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
The Difference Between Christianity and Islam
Ran accross this article which describes stoning for adultery as a brutal affair in some Islamic countries. Human rights groups are drafting a resolution to protest the practice. Quoting the article, regarding the case of one Malak Ghorbany,
"Lily Mazahery, president of the Legal Rights Institute in Washington, D.C., had the lead role in drafting the San Francisco resolution, telling WND: 'Malak is receiving the penalty of death for having committed 'adultery,' which, under the Sharia legal system includes any type of intimate relationship between a girl/woman and a man to whom she is not permanently or temporarily married. Such a relationship does not necessarily mean a sexual relationship. Further, charges of adultery are routinely issued to women/girls who have been raped, and they are sentenced to death.'"
I notice that it is only the women who are stoned and that, according to the article, the testimony of the woman only counts for half of that of the man.
"Lily Mazahery, president of the Legal Rights Institute in Washington, D.C., had the lead role in drafting the San Francisco resolution, telling WND: 'Malak is receiving the penalty of death for having committed 'adultery,' which, under the Sharia legal system includes any type of intimate relationship between a girl/woman and a man to whom she is not permanently or temporarily married. Such a relationship does not necessarily mean a sexual relationship. Further, charges of adultery are routinely issued to women/girls who have been raped, and they are sentenced to death.'"
I notice that it is only the women who are stoned and that, according to the article, the testimony of the woman only counts for half of that of the man.
Monday, May 08, 2006
D.H. Williams on the Creed
I enjoy D.H. Williams. His book Retrieving the Tradition and Renewing Evangelicalism ought to be required reading for evangelical pastors.
Williams has an article in Christian History regarding the Nicene Creed. It is titled "Do You Know Whom You Worship?" and has the subtitle "Did the Nicene Creed distort the pure gospel, or did it embody and protect it?"
Given the fascination with spurious writings like the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Judas as well as the worldwide phenomena of "The Da Vinci Code", this is a timely article. The accusation is leveled these days that the church which defined the creed and the Canon was already relatively corrupt, owing to the marriage of Roman imperial power with a hierarchical structure. In a way, some Protestants have made the very case Dan Brown attempts to make with his book.
"At the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries, some Protestant historians regarded the Council of Nicaea and its creed with the same suspicion as they did the church of Rome. The esteemed German scholar Eduard Schwarz, for example, depicted the conflicts between pro-Nicene and "Arian" opponents as in reality a struggle for power within the church which was disguised as a theological dispute. The council's decisions represented a victory for those who wielded the most influence over the emperor. This meant too that the creed was an unfortunate capitulation of the church to imperial politics and an emblem of the new merger between the Roman empire and Christianity. "
Williams has an article in Christian History regarding the Nicene Creed. It is titled "Do You Know Whom You Worship?" and has the subtitle "Did the Nicene Creed distort the pure gospel, or did it embody and protect it?"
Given the fascination with spurious writings like the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Judas as well as the worldwide phenomena of "The Da Vinci Code", this is a timely article. The accusation is leveled these days that the church which defined the creed and the Canon was already relatively corrupt, owing to the marriage of Roman imperial power with a hierarchical structure. In a way, some Protestants have made the very case Dan Brown attempts to make with his book.
"At the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries, some Protestant historians regarded the Council of Nicaea and its creed with the same suspicion as they did the church of Rome. The esteemed German scholar Eduard Schwarz, for example, depicted the conflicts between pro-Nicene and "Arian" opponents as in reality a struggle for power within the church which was disguised as a theological dispute. The council's decisions represented a victory for those who wielded the most influence over the emperor. This meant too that the creed was an unfortunate capitulation of the church to imperial politics and an emblem of the new merger between the Roman empire and Christianity. "
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Is The Reformation Over - Ecclesiology
In previous posts dealing with the Mark Noll book “Is The Reformation Over?”, I summarized a few thoughts regarding substantial agreement on terminology (if not meaning) on the issues of justification by grace through faith and the authority of scripture. I also expressed my opinion that in spite of growing commonalities on those points the reformation is not yet over. Noll indicates in his book that ecclesiology is the remaining obstacle, and it seems to be a significant one.
Even though Rome has made statements regarding justification by grace through faith, there remains in Catholic theology a belief that such justification is channeled through the church, and specifically through the ecclesial offices of pope, bishop and priest. One reason for this belief is the Pauline imagery of the church as the body of Christ, which is extended in Catholic thinking through the historical Episcopal office.
“Christ and his church are one! This basic confession explains why Catholics can offer salvation through baptism into the church. … It is why Ignatius, who died in 110, could say that only priests in connection with a bishop, in connection with the Pope, can offer valid sacraments.” p. 146-147
Even though Rome has made statements regarding justification by grace through faith, there remains in Catholic theology a belief that such justification is channeled through the church, and specifically through the ecclesial offices of pope, bishop and priest. One reason for this belief is the Pauline imagery of the church as the body of Christ, which is extended in Catholic thinking through the historical Episcopal office.
“Christ and his church are one! This basic confession explains why Catholics can offer salvation through baptism into the church. … It is why Ignatius, who died in 110, could say that only priests in connection with a bishop, in connection with the Pope, can offer valid sacraments.” p. 146-147
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Is The Reformation Over - Scripture
In my last post, I cited a few examples of how Mark Noll’s book "Is The Reformation Over?” documented a forty-year long process of dialogue between the Roman Catholic Church and various protestant groups. On the issue of justification by grace through faith, numerous statements seem to indicate that the Roman church has become willing to accept, at the very least, the Protestant phrase “by grace through faith”.
It should be understood that Catholics, in my opinion, do not define grace in quite the same way Protestants do, so the chasm is not completely filled, yet the facts that such dialogue has occurred and led to substantial statements of agreement with Protestant sounding wording is something that needs more attention in both the Evangelical and Catholic world.
Noll’s book discusses as well Rome’s recent stance on the authority of scripture. It is the common view among evangelicals that Rome places tradition over scripture, so that scripture must mean only what the church says it means, sort of like many “living document” theorists view the U.S. Constitution. And certain Catholic dogmas, particularly Purgatory, Papal infallibility and the assumption of Mary, are cited as prime examples where tradition has defined doctrines not clearly found in the written text.
It should be understood that Catholics, in my opinion, do not define grace in quite the same way Protestants do, so the chasm is not completely filled, yet the facts that such dialogue has occurred and led to substantial statements of agreement with Protestant sounding wording is something that needs more attention in both the Evangelical and Catholic world.
Noll’s book discusses as well Rome’s recent stance on the authority of scripture. It is the common view among evangelicals that Rome places tradition over scripture, so that scripture must mean only what the church says it means, sort of like many “living document” theorists view the U.S. Constitution. And certain Catholic dogmas, particularly Purgatory, Papal infallibility and the assumption of Mary, are cited as prime examples where tradition has defined doctrines not clearly found in the written text.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Is The Reformation Over - Justification
An old friend Pastor Matt Mitchell, sent me a link to Scot McKnight's post at Jesus Creed regarding the question "Is the Reformation Over?" McKnight is quoted significantly in Mark Noll's recent book, whose title frames the question. McKnight did a significant study of Evangelicals who had converted to Roman Catholicism. His post on the Jesus Creed site spawned, as of this writing , 78 comments, many of them lengthy.
I got around to reading Noll's book a few weeks ago. In answer to the question at hand, I think it would be good to expand just a bit on a few of Noll's key points. Noll's view seems to be that though the Reformation is not quite over, some of the key points of contention have been significantly worked on, particularly since Vatican II.
A key chapter in Noll's book is a documentation of the numerous, lasting and significant dialogue the Vatican has initiated with various Protestant groups. These included, according to Noll, dialogue with Anglicans 1966-1996, Methodists 1967-1996, Pentecostals 1969-1997, Reformed 1970-1990, Lutherans 1972-1999, Disciples of Christ 1977-1993, Baptists 1984-1988, Evangelicals 1977-1984.
All in all the dialogues are described as cordial, productive and positive. What strikes me is that almost no one I know in the Evangelical community is even aware that these dialogues have been taking place, with the possible exception of that with the Lutherans and the Joint Declaration of the Doctrine of Justification. This is unfortunate, in that it has allowed acrimony to continue rather than dialogue on local levels to be initiated.
I got around to reading Noll's book a few weeks ago. In answer to the question at hand, I think it would be good to expand just a bit on a few of Noll's key points. Noll's view seems to be that though the Reformation is not quite over, some of the key points of contention have been significantly worked on, particularly since Vatican II.
A key chapter in Noll's book is a documentation of the numerous, lasting and significant dialogue the Vatican has initiated with various Protestant groups. These included, according to Noll, dialogue with Anglicans 1966-1996, Methodists 1967-1996, Pentecostals 1969-1997, Reformed 1970-1990, Lutherans 1972-1999, Disciples of Christ 1977-1993, Baptists 1984-1988, Evangelicals 1977-1984.
All in all the dialogues are described as cordial, productive and positive. What strikes me is that almost no one I know in the Evangelical community is even aware that these dialogues have been taking place, with the possible exception of that with the Lutherans and the Joint Declaration of the Doctrine of Justification. This is unfortunate, in that it has allowed acrimony to continue rather than dialogue on local levels to be initiated.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Alternate Endings
I was in church yesterday, a respectable and growing church that uses the seeker format of Willow Creek or Saddleback. I heard a good respectable sermon, based in Acts 4, stressing bravery and boldness in living and proclaiming the Christian faith. In the course of the message, near the end, the Pastor told the story of Telemachus, a monk who came to ancient Rome from what is now Turkey and by his martyrdom ended the gruesome spectacle of gladiator contests in the coliseum. The pastor stressed in his telling of the story how the courage of one individual can alter the course of whole cultures.
Being a curious fellow, I decided to find out more about Telemachus and found that there are really two different endings to his story. Both of which can be found at a site called The Prayer Foundation. The first version of the story goes like this:
"Telemachus was a monk that lived in Asia in the fourth century. He felt an inner voice from the Lord to go to Rome, but didn't know why. He went anyway. He saw crowds going into the Coliseum, so he followed. He saw two gladiators fighting to the death, so he jumped down and tried to stop them but he kept getting knocked down by the gladiators. On the third time one of the gladiators ran his sword thru Telemachus and for the third time said "In the name of Christ, forbear", then he died. As the crowd saw Telemachus lying there in a pool of blood, there was silence and one by one the Coliseum emptied. Never again was there another gladiator fight."
Now this is truly an inspiring story. Telemachus was an historical figure and a fellow who was instrumental in ending the fights of the gladiators. There are details that need clarification. For example, Telemachus actually lived in the fifth century, which is significant in that Rome was officially friendly to Christianity, post Constantine, a fact that might somewhat alter the mental picture folks have of the culuture in hearing the story. (For example, why, were the games still going on? And why were so many in the stands?)
But the other version of the story is found in the Ecclesiastical History of Theodoret of Cyrus, Book V, Chapter XXVI. It has a very different ending. It goes like this.
"HONORIUS, who inherited the empire of Europe, put a stop to the gladiatorial combats which had long been held at Rome. The occasion of his doing so arose from the following circumstance. A certain man of the name of Telemachus had embraced the ascetic life. He had set out from the East and for this reason had repaired to Rome. There, when the abominable spectacle was being exhibited, he went himself into the stadium, and, stepping down into the arena, endeavoured to stop the men who were wielding their weapons against one another. The spectators of the slaughter were indignant. and inspired by the triad fury of the demon who delights in those bloody deeds, stoned the peacemaker to death.
"When the admirable emperor was informed of this he numbered Telemachus in the array of victorious martyrs, and put an end to that impious spectacle."
I'm sure everyone sees the obvious, that the difference in the two versions of the story is primarily in the response of the crowd. But as a sermon illustration, the focus tends to be on Telemachus and his altering of the course of a civilization. And the different implications in the different ending deserve discussion.
In my Evangelical experience, I have long noted the tendency to be fascinated by the inspirational story, to be drawn to the emotional impact of the great stirring ending. The hollywood climax of the first version of the story -- with Telemachus uttering the inspiring words "In the name of Christ, forbear", not once but three times in some tellings, the last time while lying in a pool of his own blood, leading to the stunned silence of 80,000 onlookers, who stricken with shame, slowly file out of the coliseum -- makes great theater.
The second version, on the other hand, has the ring of reality to it. Instead of Telemachus having a great "line" which pricks the conscience of the onlookers, he simply tries to stop two men from killing each other. Rather than the people being moved to repentance, the base human nature responds with the same selfish lust for blood that brought them to the arena in the first place. Telemachus is killed, just the same, but the effects of his action are not immediately felt. There is no "altar call" moment.
And I find that such a subtle distinction has great implications for how such a sermon illustration is applied.
Those of us listening to such a sermon are subtly inspired by the first version of the story to think that if we take a stand for what is right, the results will be just like the Hollywood ending. There will be immediate and visible fruit. If we are courageous, we will find just the right words to turn hearts from evil -- in a mere moment, great things will occur.
The reality is, I think somewhat different. We need to be told, reminded, warned, that standing for what is right often does not lead to immediate results. Telemachus never saw anyone changed by his action. Instead he saw an angry mob throwing stones with the intent to murder him. 80,000 people did not immediately repent. Rather they simply added him to their list of victims. Presumably the games went on that day and few in the stands gave his death a second thought.
We become disillusioned as Christians when our lives, our bold stands for truth, our struggles to be faithful do not lead to happy endings, do not lead to dramatic visible results. And that disillusionment is often the result of hearing a few too many "happy ending" stories. Not that ministers who use the first version of Telemachus' story intentionally mislead. But there is a temptation to go for the maximum emotional impact to get the maximum motivation. And for a moment, folks are motivated. Then the time to take a stand comes. And when the results are mixed, negative, or even completely nill, we wonder why. When will the climactic musical score rise? When will the dramatic final scene begin?
But the truth is that for every missionary who sees great numbers of converts and changed lives, there are other missionaries who see none at all. My hunch is for every act of courage that leads to dramatic change there are dozens of similar acts which have no visible effect on anyone. Yet which act is more faithful? Which is more effective? Which will God judge us by? Only he knows the effect of our faithfulness or lack thereof.
Of course, the end result, in the case of Telemachus, was that the gladiator games did end. His deed did produce results. The results were not perhaps what he might have planned for or hoped for, and he may have had no plan at all. Nor did he live to see any of it. Those are details that should not be left out. We need to know that standing for the truth often does not lead to visible results, the instant victory, the hollywood ending. Our faithfulness should be based on the truth of the faith, not the results we see in this life.
Being a curious fellow, I decided to find out more about Telemachus and found that there are really two different endings to his story. Both of which can be found at a site called The Prayer Foundation. The first version of the story goes like this:
"Telemachus was a monk that lived in Asia in the fourth century. He felt an inner voice from the Lord to go to Rome, but didn't know why. He went anyway. He saw crowds going into the Coliseum, so he followed. He saw two gladiators fighting to the death, so he jumped down and tried to stop them but he kept getting knocked down by the gladiators. On the third time one of the gladiators ran his sword thru Telemachus and for the third time said "In the name of Christ, forbear", then he died. As the crowd saw Telemachus lying there in a pool of blood, there was silence and one by one the Coliseum emptied. Never again was there another gladiator fight."
Now this is truly an inspiring story. Telemachus was an historical figure and a fellow who was instrumental in ending the fights of the gladiators. There are details that need clarification. For example, Telemachus actually lived in the fifth century, which is significant in that Rome was officially friendly to Christianity, post Constantine, a fact that might somewhat alter the mental picture folks have of the culuture in hearing the story. (For example, why, were the games still going on? And why were so many in the stands?)
But the other version of the story is found in the Ecclesiastical History of Theodoret of Cyrus, Book V, Chapter XXVI. It has a very different ending. It goes like this.
"HONORIUS, who inherited the empire of Europe, put a stop to the gladiatorial combats which had long been held at Rome. The occasion of his doing so arose from the following circumstance. A certain man of the name of Telemachus had embraced the ascetic life. He had set out from the East and for this reason had repaired to Rome. There, when the abominable spectacle was being exhibited, he went himself into the stadium, and, stepping down into the arena, endeavoured to stop the men who were wielding their weapons against one another. The spectators of the slaughter were indignant. and inspired by the triad fury of the demon who delights in those bloody deeds, stoned the peacemaker to death.
"When the admirable emperor was informed of this he numbered Telemachus in the array of victorious martyrs, and put an end to that impious spectacle."
I'm sure everyone sees the obvious, that the difference in the two versions of the story is primarily in the response of the crowd. But as a sermon illustration, the focus tends to be on Telemachus and his altering of the course of a civilization. And the different implications in the different ending deserve discussion.
In my Evangelical experience, I have long noted the tendency to be fascinated by the inspirational story, to be drawn to the emotional impact of the great stirring ending. The hollywood climax of the first version of the story -- with Telemachus uttering the inspiring words "In the name of Christ, forbear", not once but three times in some tellings, the last time while lying in a pool of his own blood, leading to the stunned silence of 80,000 onlookers, who stricken with shame, slowly file out of the coliseum -- makes great theater.
The second version, on the other hand, has the ring of reality to it. Instead of Telemachus having a great "line" which pricks the conscience of the onlookers, he simply tries to stop two men from killing each other. Rather than the people being moved to repentance, the base human nature responds with the same selfish lust for blood that brought them to the arena in the first place. Telemachus is killed, just the same, but the effects of his action are not immediately felt. There is no "altar call" moment.
And I find that such a subtle distinction has great implications for how such a sermon illustration is applied.
Those of us listening to such a sermon are subtly inspired by the first version of the story to think that if we take a stand for what is right, the results will be just like the Hollywood ending. There will be immediate and visible fruit. If we are courageous, we will find just the right words to turn hearts from evil -- in a mere moment, great things will occur.
The reality is, I think somewhat different. We need to be told, reminded, warned, that standing for what is right often does not lead to immediate results. Telemachus never saw anyone changed by his action. Instead he saw an angry mob throwing stones with the intent to murder him. 80,000 people did not immediately repent. Rather they simply added him to their list of victims. Presumably the games went on that day and few in the stands gave his death a second thought.
We become disillusioned as Christians when our lives, our bold stands for truth, our struggles to be faithful do not lead to happy endings, do not lead to dramatic visible results. And that disillusionment is often the result of hearing a few too many "happy ending" stories. Not that ministers who use the first version of Telemachus' story intentionally mislead. But there is a temptation to go for the maximum emotional impact to get the maximum motivation. And for a moment, folks are motivated. Then the time to take a stand comes. And when the results are mixed, negative, or even completely nill, we wonder why. When will the climactic musical score rise? When will the dramatic final scene begin?
But the truth is that for every missionary who sees great numbers of converts and changed lives, there are other missionaries who see none at all. My hunch is for every act of courage that leads to dramatic change there are dozens of similar acts which have no visible effect on anyone. Yet which act is more faithful? Which is more effective? Which will God judge us by? Only he knows the effect of our faithfulness or lack thereof.
Of course, the end result, in the case of Telemachus, was that the gladiator games did end. His deed did produce results. The results were not perhaps what he might have planned for or hoped for, and he may have had no plan at all. Nor did he live to see any of it. Those are details that should not be left out. We need to know that standing for the truth often does not lead to visible results, the instant victory, the hollywood ending. Our faithfulness should be based on the truth of the faith, not the results we see in this life.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Tradition
T. M. Moore has a second installment of his Contending For the Faith series on Colson’s Breakpoint website. Surprisingly to me, the topic this time is “Anti-Traditionalism and Ahistoricalism”. Moore seemed to indicate in installment one that he would be dealing with heresies, old false teachings that keep rearing their ugly head in contemporary evangelicalism. So this topic caught me by surprise. But it is a pleasant surprise. Moore introduces the topic:
“Protestants in general and evangelicals in particular are characterized by a wariness of, if not an outright aversion to, tradition… in the main, Christians today have adopted the chic contemporary view of all things traditional or historical: What could this possibly have to do with me?”
A number of evangelicals, like D. H. Williams are attempting to reconnect with tradition without going to the excess of making tradition equal to scripture. I believe most, however, remain staunchly opposed to tradition, seeing anything “traditional” as “pharisaical”. Moore describes this.
"This scorn for tradition—“anti-traditionalism”—and for the past in general—'ahistoricalism'—takes a variety of forms. In Christian worship it can mean abandoning traditional hymns, forms of music and liturgy, and even approaches to communicating God’s Word. It involves a studied lack of interest in anything written in previous generations, especially anything ancient—only what is hot and new is worth reading. It is exhibited by Christians who are woefully ignorant of the vast, rich heritage of Christian cultural achievement but who do not consider themselves to be in the least disadvantaged for it. It is visible in the seemingly unquenchable need that some church leaders demonstrate for always finding new ways to do and say things, all “old” methods and ways—including the precious heritage of doctrine and Christian confession—being regarded as inapt for our contemporaries. The anti-traditionalism and ahistoricalism of our day is much more in tune with the spirit of the age than with the spirit of the Church that transcends all ages."
Moore makes a point others have made, that all of us embrace some form of tradition. This is a major theme of Leslie Newbegin’s book, "The Gospel in a Pluralist Society". Newbegin argued that none of us can think from point zero to a conclusion, that in order to think at all, we have to assume something is true. What we assume to be true is generally what we have learned from a particular heritage, whether it be science, history, nationalism or faith.
“Today’s anti-traditionalists and ahistoricalists cannot completely escape the tradition and history they seek so eagerly to avoid. They still sing about the cross and the empty tomb, dramatize a morality of love for neighbors, assemble at familiar times for the rituals of the faith, and make use of disciplines and practices handed down from the generations that have preceded them in the Church. For all their attempts to deny their ancient or recent provenance, or to condemn the traditions of other communions, today’s anti-traditionalists and ahistoricalists, of whatever stripe, cannot escape immersion in some elements of the longstanding heritage of the life of faith, even as they earnestly work to create new traditions and begin new histories, packaging them for the consumption of curious inquirers and aspiring wannabes.”
Moore admonishes Evangelicals not to ignore the past and abandon the heritage that informs orthodox belief.
"In the midst of all this tradition-denying and history re-writing we would do well to consider Paul’s admonition to the Thessalonians: 'Stand firm and hold to the traditions you were taught by us.' We cannot live apart from some traditions, some immersion in history. So we’d better make certain that, whatever course we steer, we are careful to connect our chosen practices with those of the apostles and of the generations who, having received, adapted, and practiced those traditions with the evident blessing of God, have preserved the faith of Christ for our benefit today.
While I tend to think that some former evangelicals have embraced too much tradition, placing it over scripture in some areas, I also suspect Moore’s welcome urgings do not go quite far enough. There is a big difference between tradition as a fondness for the “old” hymns of the 16th or 19th centuries or arrangements of church government that support “deacon” boards vs. “elder” boards as opposed to the critical “traditions” which defined the orthodox creeds, finalized the canon of the New Testament, defeated the heresies of the early church. In other words, there are traditions and there is tradition. Tradition, as I understand church history, is the “passing along” of the apostolic faith, not quaint familiarity with customs of a few generations ago. It is the soil in which sound doctrine grows and the grid through which scripture can correctly be understood. Tradition creates nothing new, but is the consensus of what the church has always believed.
How desperately pluralistic and fragmenting Protestantism needs to stand on the consensus of the giants of church history again. Moore is right in seeing anti-Traditionalism and a-historicalism as departures from the faith. Hopefully, more evangelicals will move back toward the standards of the whole of church history and not just back to the Reformation.
“Protestants in general and evangelicals in particular are characterized by a wariness of, if not an outright aversion to, tradition… in the main, Christians today have adopted the chic contemporary view of all things traditional or historical: What could this possibly have to do with me?”
A number of evangelicals, like D. H. Williams are attempting to reconnect with tradition without going to the excess of making tradition equal to scripture. I believe most, however, remain staunchly opposed to tradition, seeing anything “traditional” as “pharisaical”. Moore describes this.
"This scorn for tradition—“anti-traditionalism”—and for the past in general—'ahistoricalism'—takes a variety of forms. In Christian worship it can mean abandoning traditional hymns, forms of music and liturgy, and even approaches to communicating God’s Word. It involves a studied lack of interest in anything written in previous generations, especially anything ancient—only what is hot and new is worth reading. It is exhibited by Christians who are woefully ignorant of the vast, rich heritage of Christian cultural achievement but who do not consider themselves to be in the least disadvantaged for it. It is visible in the seemingly unquenchable need that some church leaders demonstrate for always finding new ways to do and say things, all “old” methods and ways—including the precious heritage of doctrine and Christian confession—being regarded as inapt for our contemporaries. The anti-traditionalism and ahistoricalism of our day is much more in tune with the spirit of the age than with the spirit of the Church that transcends all ages."
Moore makes a point others have made, that all of us embrace some form of tradition. This is a major theme of Leslie Newbegin’s book, "The Gospel in a Pluralist Society". Newbegin argued that none of us can think from point zero to a conclusion, that in order to think at all, we have to assume something is true. What we assume to be true is generally what we have learned from a particular heritage, whether it be science, history, nationalism or faith.
“Today’s anti-traditionalists and ahistoricalists cannot completely escape the tradition and history they seek so eagerly to avoid. They still sing about the cross and the empty tomb, dramatize a morality of love for neighbors, assemble at familiar times for the rituals of the faith, and make use of disciplines and practices handed down from the generations that have preceded them in the Church. For all their attempts to deny their ancient or recent provenance, or to condemn the traditions of other communions, today’s anti-traditionalists and ahistoricalists, of whatever stripe, cannot escape immersion in some elements of the longstanding heritage of the life of faith, even as they earnestly work to create new traditions and begin new histories, packaging them for the consumption of curious inquirers and aspiring wannabes.”
Moore admonishes Evangelicals not to ignore the past and abandon the heritage that informs orthodox belief.
"In the midst of all this tradition-denying and history re-writing we would do well to consider Paul’s admonition to the Thessalonians: 'Stand firm and hold to the traditions you were taught by us.' We cannot live apart from some traditions, some immersion in history. So we’d better make certain that, whatever course we steer, we are careful to connect our chosen practices with those of the apostles and of the generations who, having received, adapted, and practiced those traditions with the evident blessing of God, have preserved the faith of Christ for our benefit today.
While I tend to think that some former evangelicals have embraced too much tradition, placing it over scripture in some areas, I also suspect Moore’s welcome urgings do not go quite far enough. There is a big difference between tradition as a fondness for the “old” hymns of the 16th or 19th centuries or arrangements of church government that support “deacon” boards vs. “elder” boards as opposed to the critical “traditions” which defined the orthodox creeds, finalized the canon of the New Testament, defeated the heresies of the early church. In other words, there are traditions and there is tradition. Tradition, as I understand church history, is the “passing along” of the apostolic faith, not quaint familiarity with customs of a few generations ago. It is the soil in which sound doctrine grows and the grid through which scripture can correctly be understood. Tradition creates nothing new, but is the consensus of what the church has always believed.
How desperately pluralistic and fragmenting Protestantism needs to stand on the consensus of the giants of church history again. Moore is right in seeing anti-Traditionalism and a-historicalism as departures from the faith. Hopefully, more evangelicals will move back toward the standards of the whole of church history and not just back to the Reformation.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The Lord's Supper - Part 4
Scripture offers many examples of things which Christians are to accept as true even though they are spiritual realities which cannot be perceived by the senses. We are buried with Christ in baptism, raised as believers with him into the heavenly realms. We are citizens of heaven, eternal beings. We are to reckon ourselves as being dead to sin and alive to God.
None of these things can be subjected to scientific analysis, which is not to say Christianity is irrational. It is built on eyewitness accounts of miracles, an empty tomb and a risen Christ. But we cannot test these propositions about our own spiritual state scientifically. When we begin to try to rationally explain spiritual truths in natural terms, we come up short and cause far more problems than we solve.
In modern times, the effort to provide tidy explanations for spiritual things has led to outright denial of the supernatural in liberal theological camps and to wooden symbolism and denial of the sacramental in more conservative camps. But it is possible to live with the apparent contradiction.
And it is clear from the reading of the early church documents that the apparent contradiction was something that remained. It was not necessary, for them, to explain the unexplainable in modern, watertight terms. Hence, such a notable figure as Cyril can make two seemingly opposite statements in the span of a few sentences.
Referring to John 6, (which Catholic apologists insist must be taken literally), he argues: "Once when Christ was discoursing with the Jews, He said, 'If you do not eat my flesh and drink my blood, you do not have life in you'. Not hearing his words in a spiritual way, they were scandalized and went away to the hinterlands, believing that he had exhorted them to the eating of flesh. (Cyril, Catechetical Lectures - Mystagogic 4,4)"
Note that his point is that the Jews failed to see a spiritual truth behind the words. They were scandalized because they believed he literally meant the eating of human flesh. Cyril says, very simply, that if they thought he referred to literal flesh-eating, they misunderstood. This coincides well with Jesus' explanation of his words later in the chapter, where he says, "The spirit gives life, the flesh counts for nothing".
Yet Cyril, just slightly farther on in his Catechetical Lectures, says something definitive and seemingly contradictory: "Do not regard the Bread and Wine as simply that, for they are, according to the Master's declaration, The Body and Blood of Christ." (Cyril, Catechetical Lectures - Mystagogic 4,6)
How are we to reconcile these two statements? On the one hand, we could take the Roman Catholic position of the 12th century to the present, and argue that the bread and wine are wholly transformed into the Body and Blood of Christ. But to do so, would be to render Cyril's previous statement meaningless, and would require us to re-interpret numerous other statements of the church fathers as well. It would require us to force fit transubstantiation onto the whole of the post-apostolic record.
None of these things can be subjected to scientific analysis, which is not to say Christianity is irrational. It is built on eyewitness accounts of miracles, an empty tomb and a risen Christ. But we cannot test these propositions about our own spiritual state scientifically. When we begin to try to rationally explain spiritual truths in natural terms, we come up short and cause far more problems than we solve.
In modern times, the effort to provide tidy explanations for spiritual things has led to outright denial of the supernatural in liberal theological camps and to wooden symbolism and denial of the sacramental in more conservative camps. But it is possible to live with the apparent contradiction.
And it is clear from the reading of the early church documents that the apparent contradiction was something that remained. It was not necessary, for them, to explain the unexplainable in modern, watertight terms. Hence, such a notable figure as Cyril can make two seemingly opposite statements in the span of a few sentences.
Referring to John 6, (which Catholic apologists insist must be taken literally), he argues: "Once when Christ was discoursing with the Jews, He said, 'If you do not eat my flesh and drink my blood, you do not have life in you'. Not hearing his words in a spiritual way, they were scandalized and went away to the hinterlands, believing that he had exhorted them to the eating of flesh. (Cyril, Catechetical Lectures - Mystagogic 4,4)"
Note that his point is that the Jews failed to see a spiritual truth behind the words. They were scandalized because they believed he literally meant the eating of human flesh. Cyril says, very simply, that if they thought he referred to literal flesh-eating, they misunderstood. This coincides well with Jesus' explanation of his words later in the chapter, where he says, "The spirit gives life, the flesh counts for nothing".
Yet Cyril, just slightly farther on in his Catechetical Lectures, says something definitive and seemingly contradictory: "Do not regard the Bread and Wine as simply that, for they are, according to the Master's declaration, The Body and Blood of Christ." (Cyril, Catechetical Lectures - Mystagogic 4,6)
How are we to reconcile these two statements? On the one hand, we could take the Roman Catholic position of the 12th century to the present, and argue that the bread and wine are wholly transformed into the Body and Blood of Christ. But to do so, would be to render Cyril's previous statement meaningless, and would require us to re-interpret numerous other statements of the church fathers as well. It would require us to force fit transubstantiation onto the whole of the post-apostolic record.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
The Lord's Supper - Part 3
I spent a number of years in churches that taught polar opposite views on the Lord's Supper. The Catholic understanding that the Mass involved a transformation of the whole substance of the bread and wine into the flesh and blood of Christ conjured strange images in my head as a youngster. Then as a teen I embraced the evangelical view derived from Zwingli's influence, that the bread is just bread and the grape juice (no wine) is just grape juice, but we are to be obedient in "remembering" the sacrifice of Christ periodically.
Reading church history has forced me to rethink that common evangelical viewpoint, yet I don"t see that the Catholic view is quite tenable either. But as I looked at the writings of the early church, certain passages in scripture started to take on a richer meaning
Reading church history has forced me to rethink that common evangelical viewpoint, yet I don"t see that the Catholic view is quite tenable either. But as I looked at the writings of the early church, certain passages in scripture started to take on a richer meaning
Sunday, November 13, 2005
The Lord's Supper - Part 2
Christian worship in evangelical circles has become something of a never ending attempt to stay hip. As a result of the Reformer's emphasis that teaching of the Scripture should be central, the pulpit became the primary focus of Protestant free church worship. But as a result of the well intentioned seeker approaches to making church relevant to the unchurched, the pulpit was replaced by the powerpoint screen and the "worship" band. As outreach became the purpose of the Sunday morning service, the whole emphasis of Sunday morning was radically altered - the purpose of worship was no longer worship. Now, in the emergent church movement, there is often a very eclectic hodge-podge of elements ranging from Celtic influences to street graffiti to chant, icons and liturgical formulas, street graffiti and performance art. All of this is still called "worship" - but is it?
Evangelicals have long spoken of wanting to emulate the first century church. But what was the first century church really like? It is simply undeniable that two elements in particular were essential to worship in the early church. First, the reading and teaching of scripture, and second, the celebration of the Eucharist. Both of these elements have fallen from prominence as the pursuit of relevance has replace the pursuit of God.
Evangelicals have long spoken of wanting to emulate the first century church. But what was the first century church really like? It is simply undeniable that two elements in particular were essential to worship in the early church. First, the reading and teaching of scripture, and second, the celebration of the Eucharist. Both of these elements have fallen from prominence as the pursuit of relevance has replace the pursuit of God.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
The Lord's Supper - Part 1
I recently started to understand that though the battles which led to the Reformation were about salvation by grace vs. Salvation by sacramentalism, the roots of the issue went back a bit further. There would be no debate on the issue of faith over works had Pasaschius Radbertus not proposed the theory of transubstantiation in the 9th century.
Radbertus attempted to explain how Christians could partake of the "flesh and blood" of Christ in the Eucharist by appealing to rather literal and metaphysical explanations. In stating that the bread and cup are actually physically transformed into the body and blood of Christ, he set in motion an unfortunate chain of events. The Roman church officially adopted transubstantiation as a doctrine in the 12th century. As this became a central tenet of the church, certain side effects were felt.
The role of the priest was inevitably elevated as he presided over a real and miraculous sacrifice. Masses were said in the absence of laypeople on behalf of others living or dead as this sacrifice was increasingly seen as powerful to remit sin. Since Christ was physically present in the bread, his body and blood were both taken to be present in the bread, so laypeople were no longer offered the cup in communion. The meaning of the Lord's supper became increasingly mysterious, fearsome, beyond the reach of the laypeople and effective in the forgiveness of sins. This effect of elevating the priesthood and making the mass a mysterious miracle was exacerbated by the fact that the mass was said in Latin at a time when the people no longer understood Latin. It was inevitable that many would see participating in the mass as a direct means of salvation. Hus and Wycliff recognized the change in understanding of the Lord's Supper long before Luther came on the scene.
It is odd, however, that such a literal, physical view of the sacrament of Holy Communion came to be applied only to this sacrament. Jesus said, it is argued, "this is my body". He said, "unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no life in you". So, it was reasoned, and still is in Roman Catholic circles, the bread and cup literally become the body and blood and we truly eat his flesh and blood.
Radbertus attempted to explain how Christians could partake of the "flesh and blood" of Christ in the Eucharist by appealing to rather literal and metaphysical explanations. In stating that the bread and cup are actually physically transformed into the body and blood of Christ, he set in motion an unfortunate chain of events. The Roman church officially adopted transubstantiation as a doctrine in the 12th century. As this became a central tenet of the church, certain side effects were felt.
The role of the priest was inevitably elevated as he presided over a real and miraculous sacrifice. Masses were said in the absence of laypeople on behalf of others living or dead as this sacrifice was increasingly seen as powerful to remit sin. Since Christ was physically present in the bread, his body and blood were both taken to be present in the bread, so laypeople were no longer offered the cup in communion. The meaning of the Lord's supper became increasingly mysterious, fearsome, beyond the reach of the laypeople and effective in the forgiveness of sins. This effect of elevating the priesthood and making the mass a mysterious miracle was exacerbated by the fact that the mass was said in Latin at a time when the people no longer understood Latin. It was inevitable that many would see participating in the mass as a direct means of salvation. Hus and Wycliff recognized the change in understanding of the Lord's Supper long before Luther came on the scene.
It is odd, however, that such a literal, physical view of the sacrament of Holy Communion came to be applied only to this sacrament. Jesus said, it is argued, "this is my body". He said, "unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no life in you". So, it was reasoned, and still is in Roman Catholic circles, the bread and cup literally become the body and blood and we truly eat his flesh and blood.
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