Tuesday, 30 September 2008

All That Is the Size of a Hazelnut


Julian of Norwich is one of the great mystical figures of Christianity, indeed of world religion. On May 8, 1373, between 4:00 and 9:00AM, she received a number of extraordinary visions, Revelations as they are called, of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ.


In this Revelation the Lord showed me something else, a tiny thing, no bigger than a hazelnut, lying in the palm of the hand, and as round as a ball. I looked at it, puzzled, and thought, ‘What is it?’
The answer came: ‘It is everything that is made.’
I wondered how it could survive. It was so small that I expected it to shrivel up and disappear.
Then I was answered, ‘It exists now and always because God loves it.’ Thus I understood that everything exists through the love of God.
In this small thing I saw three truths: first God made it, second God loves it, and third God looks after it. But what he really means to me as Maker, Keeper and Lover, I cannot tell; I shall never know complete rest and true happiness until all that I am is united with the Lord.

Monday, 29 September 2008

Announcing the Inaugural Adelaide Anglican Blog Conference

I am pleased to announce the inaugural Annual Adelaide Anglican Blog Conference. It will be held in March 2009 and hosted on this blog. The topic is subsection 2 in The Jerusalem Declaration produced by GAFCON. The contributors are Revd Dr David Willsher, Very Revd Dr Steven Ogden, Dr Lucy Larkin, Revd Dr Phillip Tolliday, Revd Barbara Messner, Right Revd Dr Stephen Pickard, and Revd Dr Warren Huffa. Each contributor's post will be published over the two weeks beginning Friday, February 27. This will allow each contribution to be read over two days as we build a comprehensive picture of some of the issues around Scripture, and Scripture and the Anglican Communion. In addition to this, each post will be published with a prepared response. Comments will also be welcome.

Titles of each post will follow soon, but among the topics to be discussed will be inspiration and inerrancy, Scripture as the living word, and the plain meaning of Scripture.


Two Natures, One Person and the Non-Competitive Divine Nature


Christianity claims that, in Jesus, a divine person has assumed a human life without diminution of either divine or human natures, and that this assumed person is without human personhood (ontologically speaking), and is only a single divine person. (Two natures, one person.)

A few observations will, I hope, help. First, it is best not to think of God's nature as defined, like ours, as exclusive of other kinds. That is, God is transcendent, beyond simple contrasts, because, remember, God is not in an ontologically competitive relationship with us. God is, as Phillip reminded us, just not on another plane of being; God is somehow else. (God is not a being, literally does not have being as such.) Thus, because of God's non-competitive transcendence God can share God's goodness and not be diminished, and can unite without diminution (of either God or human being). This also means that God does not have to be more like us to be united with us; God can be God, totally other than us and still be intimately united with us. And this is part of God's creativeness: in creating God comes near and establishes difference and existence. (Indeed, they are co-terminus.) Of course, this is all paralleled in the doctrine of the Trinity. The Father as fount of Godhead, begets a Son who is entirely other than the Father, but who is utterly united in love with the Father. The more the Father is Father the more the Son is Son, 'naturally' related but distinct.

Apply this to the doctrine of the Incarnation. The Son can assume a human nature without change because the Son's nature is not defined by exclusion from others. (Because of non-competitiveness) That is, the Word is not restricted by its own nature, because divine nature is not defined over-and-against other kinds. This is not speculation but entirely soteriological: this is our salvation, and the doctrines are partly the end result of working backwards from this salvation won in Christ.

[If you are interested in the picture, see here.]

Friday, 26 September 2008

The Mother of All Biblical Metaphors!

The Exodus with its elements of slavery, passover and redemption, and following this, the narrative of desert, covenant, rebellion and promised land, is one of the dominant interpretive lenses of the Bible. An immense amount of Scripture is refracted through this narrative. Not only this, it is the pivot on which the whole of the biblical story moves. Prior to it we have Genesis 1-11, outlining to us the universal predicament of human kind. God's response to this predicament is to bring redemption, and this begins with the call of Abraham and Sarah, leading (eventually) to the slavery of the people of Israel in Egypt. And then, after the Exodus and entry into the promised land, we have the settlement leading to the Exile and the Return, with the latter seen as a new Exodus in Isaiah 40-55. And let's not forget the theme of rebellion and pedagogy in the desert (Hos 11:1-4), or the flight of Elijah to the mount of God. (1Kings 19). And then there is Jesus. Think of the links between their stories: the Holy Innocents (Matt 2:16-18), his call out of Egypt (Matt 2:15), his temptations in the desert (Matt 4:1-11), the transfiguration (Lk 9:28-36), the death of Jesus at Passover (Jn 19:14) and his identity as 'the lamb of God" (Jn 1:36). And then there is the beautiful litany over the water in A Prayer Book for Australia, including,

"We give you thanks that through the waters of the Red Sea you led your people out of slavery into freedom, and brought them through the river Jordan to new life in the land of promise."

And I could think of all this without trying - just shows how much there is. And consider the influence of the Exodus on Western culture generally, with our proclivity toward freedom from slavery, and all the liberation movements sprung from the basic metaphor of the movement from slavery to liberation and life in the promised land. Not to mention the Jewish/Christian insight that the voice of the victim is the voice of God, pre-eminently shown in the crucifixion, but also in the Exodus.

As the basic metaphor of the Christian life, the story of the Exodus should be taken seriously.
For example, everyone wants to go to the promised land, but rarely do we think that we should go there via the desert. And even when we do go via the desert, we seem to think we have left there before we really have. Life in Christ does not allow us to avoid the basic structure of the movement from liberation to the promised land. This is one of the basic insights from the desert tradition of the church with its discipline and asceticism. (Literally, for many of them, in the desert. See inset, St Catherine's Monastery at the foot of one possible site for Sinai.) The desert is where we learn to rely on God, and where our desires for the 'fleshpots of Egypt' can be purged. Here we will hear the voice of God, live into the convenant and hear the call of God wooing us and preparing us for entry into the promised land.

Isn't this so much our experience now? While we have whiffs of the promised land, our life now is to be thought more a preparation for the promised land, a land we have not yet reached. (Rowan Williams spends some time on this idea of the church as preparatory for heaven in Tokens of Trust, Chapter 6, focussing on the idea of becoming familiar with the truth so that, on the day of judgment, our experience is not quite so terrifying! On the theme of not yet reaching the promised land, see Heb 11:39-40) It is important to realise this, as it can prevent misunderstanding our experience, as though because we are not continually experiencing complete and unhindered intimacy with God we are somehow losing our faith, or worse, think that there isn't really a God! Or because we question and complain at times we are somehow alien to the Christian experience. None of this is true. The desert can be hard, we can hanker after Egypt, wonder where God is, yet in the midst of this have a deep sense of God's care for us and guidance toward the promised land. And even, at some point, realise the way in which God provided for us through the desert.

[Pentecost 20(A), September 28, 2008]

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Reading Scripture: Not Always as Easy As We Might Like it To Be

We all know that we are meant to "believe" everything in the Bible. And that we should eschew those complex readings that seem to make the Bible say exactly the opposite to what a simple reading suggests. But maybe reading the Bible isn't quite as simple as it sounds. Try this:

"So, therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions." (Lk 14:33)

The plain meaning of the text is clear; discipleship of Jesus demands a practical renunciation of all one's possessions. Some have read this kind of passage that way, and I think here in particular of St Anthony and, in the twentieth century, Dorothy Day. But most of us would not take this verse as something to be believed and followed literally. We might try and categorise it as hyperbole, or we might look to its wider context in the Bible, including the Gospel of Luke, the rest of the New Testament and the whole Bible. We might discover that in Luke, although he has the first generation of disciples give up everything (e.g. compare Mk 1:20 & Lk 5:11), there are plenty of indications that this response is not necessarily required of every disciple since.

Let's try another one; the bizarre story of Jephthah and his nameless daughter. (Judges 11:34-40) He makes a vow to God to ensure victory against his foes, to sacrifice what/whoever first meets him when he arrives home. Unfortunately (particularly for her), it is his daughter, and so she is offered up as a burnt offering. (No alternative victim sent by God in this story. Cf Gen 22) What are we meant to make of that? Is his behaviour to be lauded (or at least vindicated because he did, at least, fulfill his vow, even if it was a stupid one) or condemned? The last few verses about the tradition of mourning might be a mild (although ambiguous at best) critique of his oath and actions. And in the wider context of Judges, he fits the flawed character of many of the judge protagonists. And in the wider context of the OT and its disapproval of human sacrifice, it is inconceivable that this story now functions in the Bible as a recommendation for faithfulness, no matter how it was understood when written. I suspect that is how most of us would see it.

But it gets more complicated. Hebrews 11:32 cites Jephthah as a model of faith. (Although exactly what is being remembered is not stated.) And didn't the father sacrifice the Son (Jesus)? Many take this to be literally true, which would then mean Jephthah's actions could at least be vindicated. A straight reading of the text is perhaps not as easy as some might claim.

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Resurrection: Leaving Nothing Behind

"The belief in resurrection tells us that what God wants to hold in everlasting life isn't some shadowy fragment of ourselves but the person we have become, body and soul." (Rowan Williams)

Monday, 22 September 2008

Love (III) by George Herbert



Rowan Williams says of this poem, "What more is there to say in the wake of this, the greatest Christian poem in the English language?" (Tokens of Trust, pp. 149-150.)


Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Study Notes For Rowan Williams, 'Tokens of Trust' Chapter 6

Again, this chapter is not difficult. It is about the church, about being Christian imperfectly, and about our final hope. And it is all grounded in his first three chapters really, where Williams has laid the trinitarian groundwork of understanding ourselves and the hope we have been given.

  1. On pg 136 Williams mentions in passing one of the great theological movements of the 60s that remains prevalent in one form or another in the diocese of Adelaide! This is the death of God movement, which poured out divinity onto the earth to the extent that God becomes the sum total of human aspiration. The death of Godites were deeply impressed by Jesus, and sought to free him from the accretions of doctrine and church verbiage. They loved what he stood for, but ignored Jesus' relationship with the Father, a relationship that defines him in the
    Scriptures. Williams says "it is just not possible to empty out of Jesus' story this constant, all-pervading, sometimes dark and agonizing, always decisive relation to the mystery out of which he comes." (136)

  2. Williams closely allies the church to the Trinity, this 'threefold rhythm of love." (136) The church is an image of the Trinity, where diversity and identity are not inversely related, but our 'individual' identity is bound up with others, to whom I am related. However, he cautions of thinking that the Trinity and the church are two inter-related examples of communion. We are drawn into the communion of love that is God, and do not possess this communion in our own right.

  3. I particularly like his emphasis on our participation in the church now as preparatory for the kingdom that is to come. It will be a bodily life of community that will not be less than this life, which is part of the reason why we believe in the resurrection of the body. (Here is one to remember: "God does not redeem us by making us stop being what we are..." (141)

  4. Our hope does not lie within our power to grant. Our hope is in the faithfulness, trustworthiness, of God. Immortality is correctly predicated of God, not us, and we gain our eternal life derivatively from God. There is no shard within us awaiting release to zoom back to God. (138-144)

  5. Perhaps surprisingly for many Anglicans, the Archbishop provides a positive account for the necessity fo some kind of purgatory. (144-150) We have distorted our humanity, and the redemption given to us in Christ will undo that twist and distortion. And this will hurt. We gain some practice in this in our discipleship now. Coming face to face with the truth brings challenge and pain at times. Purgatory should not be thought of as an intermediate state, but just a recognition that in our continuing journey with God, as we are formed more fully into the likeness of Christ through love, the transformation will not be painless.

  6. But what of hell? We must always hold open the possibility, for we know the depths of our unwillingness to face the truth, and its consequences. But this leads to why a focus on our failure is so important in the Christian schema, and full of hope. The church points to God as its hope, not its own holiness. And this applies to us all as individuals.

  7. And don't miss a beautiful account of the importance of contemplation in our lives and the life of the church. (155-159) Contemplation strips away all the false identities, and all the ideas and emotions and behaviours attached to these false identities. Indeed, to even let go of what makes us happy. (156) And all this to put distance between us and our usual comforts so that we might have a chance of seeing the truth, which will be strange and disorienting.

  8. And finally, what might a trinitarian experience 'feel' like? Don't be surprised if it is not like talking to someone on the other side of the room, despite the fact that we use the language of 'person' to describe God. Father, Son and Spirit are not literally persons. We should know this is immediately true, because the trinitarian persons are present to each other internally, simultaneously. "Something is is going on that is deeper than that, but no less personal, no less a real relationship, but something that doesn't depend entirely on how we feel and what we think: a pouring-in of God's love that will steadily transform us from the inside." (158; see Romans 5:5)

Saturday, 20 September 2008

Workers in the Vineyard (Kids' Talk)

Matthew 20:1-16.

Act out the parable with a clock to manipulate the hours, and a few gardening tools. Get the kids out there play acting it out. Bring in a few new workers as in the parable. Play it up a bit, "How does it feel out there in the heat', that kind of thing.

Then bring in the last group. What do the kids think? Quite simply, this is how God does it. Just becasue you are a disciple of Jesus your whole life doesn't mean you get a bigger reward! God wants to reward everyone, no matter how much they do!

[Pentecost 19(A), September 21, 2008]

Friday, 19 September 2008

Ordinary Religion (vs The Gospel)

[Matthew 20:1-16]

Ordinary religion says that we all meet a fork in the road; one way goes to hell, the other to heaven. Follow the rules (whatever they happen to be, whatever it is you are meant to believe) and you go to heaven, don't follow the rules and the way to hell opens up. Its religion as law, and there is plenty of it about. It is ultimately about remaining in control within our relationship with God. The recluse in the story below is a member of ordinary religion.

When God walked into heaven and found that everyone was there, he wasn't pleased at all. He owed it to his justice, did he not, to carry out his threats. So everyone was summoned to his throne and the Angel asked to read the ten commandments. The first commandment was announced. Said God, 'All who have broken this commandment will now betake themselves to hell'. And so it was done. The same was done with each of the other commandments. By the time the Angel came to read the Seventh, no one was left in heaven except a recluse - smug and self-complacent. God looked up and thought: 'Only one person left in heaven? That makes it very lonesome." So he shouted out, 'Come back, everyone!' When the recluse heard that everyone was forgive, he yelled in rage, 'This is unjust! Why didn't you tell me this before?' (Anthony de Mello, The Song of the Bird, pp138-139.)

The recluse did his part of the bargain, and when God 'changed' the rules, he lost control. Personal interest does not take us all that far down the road to God. (It can take us a little way, as it turns out, but becomes a dead end if we can't jump tracks. More on that in a future post on the four degrees of love.)

Contrast this to the gospel. The gospel is not about control, but about grace. The gospel still holds out the possibility of damantion, but does not conceive of two equally wieghted roads. The road to salvation in Christ is heavily weighted in our favour, with the possibility of damnation remaining. In God's kingdom the rules of ordinary religion do not apply so neatly.

The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. 2After agreeing with the labourers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. 3When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the market-place; 4and he said to them, “You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.” So they went. 5When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. 6And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, “Why are you standing here idle all day?” 7They said to him, “Because no one has hired us.” He said to them, “You also go into the vineyard.” 8When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, “Call the labourers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.” 9When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. 10Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. 11And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, 12saying, “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” 13But he replied to one of them, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? 14Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. 15Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” 16So the last will be first, and the first will be last.’ (Matthew 20:1-16)

What is the antidote to ordinary religion? The gospel of Jesus, of course. But how do we enter the upside down world of the gospel? Here are a couple of clues:

  1. This is not popular at the moment, but start with your own failure, and your moral equivalence (in failure) with every other human being. Then remember grace.

  2. But more importantly, love God. The grace of God gives us the gift of responding to God, and the response we are given is love of God. The more we love God the less we begrudge God's grace shown to others, and, sometimes only eventually, we come to see the grace that is at the beginning and end of our response of love.
Another story to finish.

Jesus began to teach in parables. He said: the Kingdom of God is like two brotheres who were called by God to give up all they had and serve humanity.

The older responded to the call though he had to tear himself away from his fiancee and his family and go off to a distant land to spend himself in the service of the poor. Years later he was imprisoned for his work, tortured and pt to death.

And the Lord said, 'Well done my good and faithful servant! You gave me a thousand measures of service. I shall now give you a thousand million measures of beatitude. Enter into the joy of your Lord.

The younger boy ignored the call. He married the girl he loved and prospered in his business. He was kind to his wife and children and gave an occasional alms to the poor.

And when he came to die, the Lord said, 'Well done my good and faithful servant! You gave me twenty measures of service. I shall now give you a thousand million measures of beatitude. Enter into the joy of your Lord.'

When the older boy was told that his brother was to get the same reward as he, he was surprised. And he rejoiced. 'Lord,' he said, 'had I known this at the time you called me I know I would have done exactly what I did for love of you.' (
Anthony de Mello, The Song of the Bird, pp. 134-135.)

[Pentecost 19(A) September 21, 2008]

Wednesday, 17 September 2008

Creation's Dependence on God


Creation is an action of God that sets up a relationship between God and what is not God. Eternally, there is just God – outside time because he doesn’t get better or worse, or change in any way. And time begins when God speaks to call into being a world that is different and so establishes a reality that depends on him. It depends on him moment by moment, carried along on the current of his activity. Behind and beneath everything we encounter is this action. (Rowan Williams)

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

If Salvation is for Any...



If salvation is for any, it is for all…. The ‘return’ to the lost, the excluded, the failed or destroyed, is not an option for the saint, but the very heart of saintliness. And we might think not only of Jesus’s parable of the shepherd, but of the great theological myth of the Descent into Hell, in which God’s presence in the world in Jesus is seen as his journey into the furthest deserts of despair and alienation. It is the supreme image of his freedom, to go where he is denied and forgotten…. He comes to his new and risen life, his universal kingship, by searching out all the forgotten and failed members of the human family. (Rowan Williams)

Sunday, 14 September 2008

Study Notes For Rowan Williams, 'Tokens of Trust' Chapter 5



The book is getting easier. Three highlights to look out for are what he says about the meaning of peace, the nature of the church, the Eucharist, and the Bible.

  1. The meaning of peace not as an absence of conflict or tension, and this includes inner peace, but peace as a dynamic giving and receiving within relationships with others. And there is always some 'action' happening in relationship! 'Peace' as conceived by many is more like escape.

  2. The church echoes the Trinity as neither individualism nor communitarianism, but personal. (Think about the person of the Father: the more he is father, the more he relates, thus person brings 'individuality' and relationship into proportionate relationship.) In this regard Williams mentions the early church metaphor of 'Body of Christ', and points out that its Christian use goes beyond the functional interpretations of paganism. The church as the Body of Christ is about gift giving and receiving, with each unique member called to bring their unique contribution to the common life. This is not just a functional perspective, but recognises that the gift of God is personal, directed to us and shared via our uniquely personal presence and activity. Not just about functional giving, but the gift giving of ourselves, albeit through ministries.

  3. The Archbishop says a lot of good things about the Eucharist, particularly relating it to the work of the Spirit and baptism. The Eucharist is not magic, but the work of the Spirit in extending the presence of Jesus in this action of making eucharist. The sharing of the bread and wine through Christ (and addressed to the Father in thanksgiving), prefigures the end of all things, when all that is will glorify God through Christ in the power of the Spirit. The eucharist gives us a clue to the cosmoc nature of salvation (just in case the Incarnation isn't enough!).

  4. Jesus is the Word of God, not the Bible. The Bible is the primary witness to Christ and is not a text of magic answers to life's questions. It witnesses to a history and a life: God's history and life (Father and Son), and God's history and life with the cosmos in Christ.

Friday, 12 September 2008

Pure Forgiveness

Jesus comes across a bit on the excessive side at times. Hyperbolic, we might say. If someone takes your coat, give them your shirt also (Lk 6:29); turn the other cheek (Lk 6:29); how many times should I forgive my brother or sister? (Matt 18:21-22) And, in one of the parables Jesus uses to teach about forgiveness (Matt 18:23-35), notice the ridiculous amount of debt that is forgiven. (10,000 talents = 150,000 years of a labourer's wage!) It is easy to set our sights too low when it comes to forgiveness. (Or difficult to set our sights higher.)Most forgiveness is that which is 'earned' in some way. We find it easier to forgive someone who has shown remorse or repented their actions, than if they remain unrepentant. We are then able to respond with a suitable response of forgiveness, and a bridge over the trouble is built through this 'negotiation' of repentance and forgiveness. Note though, in this process the repentant person has already moved on from the sin and the kind of person they were. We are not forgiving the sinner per se, but an improvement on them! This is our usual modus operandi in respect to forgiveness. There is nothing wrong with this, and it is very practical in all areas of human life, ranging from the interpersonal to the public and political. Saying 'sorry' has become part of the political landscape, and we find it easier to move on with the apology than without. But there is a purer forgiveness: the utterly gratuitous forgiveness of the sinner and the sin without prior repentance. This is forgiveness worthy of the title of forgiveness. How difficult it is to forgive the sinner who has not repented and continues to be the person capable of recommitting the sin. Purer forgiveness, but much harder. We rarely see it, even more rarely (if ever) live it ourselves. The purest forgiveness is implied in this less perfect form of forgiveness but is displayed to us in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus is God forgiving us before we repent, before we make ourselves worthy of forgiveness. (Rom 5:6-11) In Jesus Christ, the pure forgiveness of God is made manifest and efficacious for all. (Rom 5:18-21) When we repent it may feel as though the forgiveness we receive from God comes in response to that repentance. However, the possibility of repentance is a gift we received within the gratuity of pure forgiveness. That is, God's forgiveness is pure, and it leads to repentance, to that very practical kind of forgiveness we are all so familiar with. No matter how hard we try, and no matter how successful in changing, all of it comes to us through the gratuity of pure forgiveness. (Lk 7:36-50) [Pentecost 18(A), Matt 18:21-35] See J. Derrida, 'On Forgiveness'.

It's About Ideas and Information

The key to ministry is not coordination and administration, but the sharing of information and ideas. (Easum and Bandy)

Thursday, 11 September 2008

Its about Continuity and Change

The only way to preserve values over time is to be involved continuously in renewal and change, thus finding ever fresh expressions for those values. When any organization decides it will seek to save its life by building walls against change, that organization is destined to lose its life and vitality. It is through such concepts as ‘continuity and change’ and ‘stability in motion’ that we find the path that leads to ever new organizational life. (Lovett H. Weems Jr)

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

It's About a Dream

There is no freeway to the future. No paved highway from here to tomorrow. There is only wilderness. Only uncertain terrain. There are no road maps. No signposts. So pioneering leaders only rely upon a compass and a dream. (James M. Kouzes & Barry Z. Posner)

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

It's About Vision

Vision is a gift from God. It is the reward of disciplined, faithful, and patient listening to God. Vision allows us to see beyond the visible, beyond barriers and obstacles to our mission. Vision ‘catches us up’, captivates and compels us to act. Vision is the gift of eyes of faith to see the invisible, to know the unknowable, to think the unthinkable, to experience the not yet. Vision allows us to see signs of the kingdom now in our midst. Vision gives us focus, energy, the willingness to risk. It is our vision that draws us forward. (Bishop Rueben P. Job)


Without a compelling vision there will be a vacuum in which almost nothing is happening, but in which almost every problem becomes exaggerated. (Lovett H. Weems Jr)

Monday, 8 September 2008

Study Notes For R. Williams, 'Tokens of Trust' Chapter 4


“Fearlessness in giving has to find its place at the heart of things…” (83)

1. God’s desire for us and our world is an ‘economy of gift’ (82) whereby we live by a mutual generosity. But this is not the world we live in, and none of us seem to be able to break this cycle of ‘original sin’, which is merely the observation that we are all born into this imperfect world, and exhibit this imperfection in our lives. Thus we have weaved a tangle of selfishness “that goes back to the very roots of humanity.” (82)

2. Jesus is the break in the cycle that is needed.(83) The break must be genuinely human (or it won’t break the human cycle), but it must also be divine to effect the transformation required, for only God is so utterly free as to be able to give utterly selflessly. (This selfless giving is the very nature of God, Father, Son and Spirit.) This is why the doctrine of the two natures in Christ is so important; it verbalizes the experience of being saved by a human act, but one carried out by God in person.

3. Jesus, as Son in relationship with the Father, is this living out in history of the Trinitarian life of unrestricted and utterly consistent love. Utterly consistent remember because God is an utter fullness of love already and does not need us in this sense.) And in him this love is turned also toward us, so that the love we see and receive in Jesus is the total and unselfish giving of God. Through Christ, who is both God’s love turned to us and the Son in person in relationship to the Father, the very life of God is brought into history, personally. Think of Jesus as the intersection of God’s own life of love with the world.

4. But when love meets sin, the cross is the result. (84-85) Notice some of the New Testament metaphors for the death of Jesus (87-88) Williams picks up. None are literally true (which doesn’t mean they are meaningless), but all help us understand the depth and comprehensiveness of the salvation wrought in Christ. “The single central thing is the conviction that for us to be at peace Jesus’ life has to be given up. It isn’t that a vengeful and inflexible God demands satisfaction, more that the way the world is makes it unavoidable that the way to our freedom lies through the self-giving of Jesus, even to the point of death.” (88)

5. The descent into hell, pp. 88-89. Don’t get hung up on this, the point is that Christ’s salvation is universal and complete: nowhere is safe from it! The dereliction of the cross finds its nadir in the descent to the dead/hell, that place of utter godforsakenness. This follows the logic of the substitution of the cross to its (theo)logical conclusion.

6. Interesting argument for the reality of the bodily resurrection of Jesus, not just as a personal/psychological appearance (91-2). The resurrection is the triumph of God over evil and sin, but the theology of resurrection focuses on Jesus, not this triumph in abstract terms. This suggests that the disciples could not dispense with Jesus when talking of resurrection.

7. Through the giving of the Spirit to us (see John 20) we receive the new humanity that is possible through Jesus ‘the break’ in original sin. The cycle is broken in him, and transmitted to us. (92) This Spirit we receive is not just a Spirit of loving other people, but is the Spirit of the love of Father and Son, the love that is free and unrestricted self-giving. (The latter is possible because of the former.) This parallels Jesus’ relationship with the Father on the one hand, and on the other hand, his relationship to the world.

8. The victory of Christ and the giving of the Spirit now have led some to think that the end has already come. Wrong. And this includes all those who cease to act rightly because they believe the end is nigh. We are assured of the future victory, but as the future. (This is one reason why it is important to see the resurrection as the future come to meet us, rather than a past event like the cross. The victory is not locked in the past, ineffective against current evils.)

9. In speaking of the second coming, Williams remembers a saying of Luther who said that if he knew the world was ending tomorrow he would plant a tree today! This is because to do so is good in itself, and doing good is important no matter how short the time frame. (98) So caring for the environment, or doing justice, is the right thing to do and to do now, even though the resurrection will transform everything.

10. Notice the interesting interpretation of ‘Lead us not into temptation’ (99). The light of Christ’s love is not just all beer and skittles. There is the pain of transformation, transforming the persons we have made ourselves by following the channels of original sin. Williams says that ‘save us from the time of trial’ is asking to be spared this final transformation until we have had the time to do some more work now, so that the final judgment won’t be quite so painful. 11. Sharing in the communion of Holy Spirit doesn’t just mean receiving an external gift, but receiving the Spirit that transforms our very natures. (101) What we share – our human nature – is transformed into the likeness of Christ himself. (The Word of God, by becoming an obedient human person, perfects our nature, and this perfection is transferred to us.) This new nature echoes the Trinitarian life itself, a nature that is constituted by mutual giving and receiving. (102) Thus the cycle of original selfishness, broken in Christ, becomes universal

Its About Leadership

The time for leaders has come, the time for enablers has passed. (Kennion L. Callahan)

Sunday, 7 September 2008

Where Two or Three Are Gathered



Cathedral Service

I’m only here because I wandered in

Not knowing that a service would begin,

And had to slide into the nearest pew,

Pretending it was what I’d meant to do.


The tall candles cast their frail light

Upon the priest, the choir clad in white,

The carved and polished and embroidered scene.

The congregation numbers seventeen.


And awkwardly I follow as I’m led

To kneel or stand or sing or bow my head.

Though these specific rites are strange to me,

I know their larger meaning perfectly-


The heritage of twenty centuries

Is symbolised in rituals like these,

In special modes of beauty and of grace

Enacted in a certain kind of place.


This faith, although I lack it, is my own,

Inherent to the marrow of the bone.

To this even the unbelieving mind

Submits its unbelief to be defined.


Perhaps the meagre congregation shows

How all of that is drawing to a close,

And remnants only come here to entreat

These dying flickers of the obsolete.


Yet when did this religion ever rest

On weight of numbers as the final test?

Its founder said that it was all the same

When two or three were gathered in his name.


Peter Kocan

Saturday, 6 September 2008

Discipline and Forgiveness (The Structure of Matthew 18)


Matt 18:10-20.

Where two or three are gathered..." This is the verse we usually focus on in Matt 18; the presence of Jesus is not dependent on huge 'success'. True enough, and it gives a bit of a warm fuzzy, especially to dwindling congregations or persecuted churches. But let's not miss what else is also going on in this text. But to do this we need to look at all of Matt 18, which can be divided up into four basic parts. The first section talks of the need for humility(18:1-5) . Given the next section's focus on the need for leaders to care for those they lead, and the question about greatness at 18:1, it is probable that this section is a warning to the leaders of the church, offering a practical solution to the ever-present problem of arrogant leadership.

Section 2 is 18:8-14 warns these leaders about the judgment to follow if they disdain even the least of the Christian community. None should be lost. But alas, while this sounds like a recipe for harmonious communal relations, such is not the case. Section 3 (18:15-20) provides the church with a simple procedure by which recalcitrant members of the church can, to be anachronistic, be excommunicated. ("Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax-collector"; although see 9:9-13). Try to work it out the text says, but if , then take witnesses to see if they can talk some sense into the person, and if the person persists, let them be judged in front of the entire church. God will uphold the decision (18:18 "... will be bound in heaven", a theological passive, that is, God will do it) of the disciples, "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them. (18:20)

But we can't stop there. Section 4 is that beautiful teaching of Jesus on forgiveness that is a direct response to the arrogant mega-vengeance of Lamech in Gen 4:15 & 22. (See Matt 18:21-22) , followed by the parable of the unforgiving servant. The teaching of Jesus is a response to the universal predicament of humankind, offering an abundance of forgiveness as an antidote to the hubris of disproportionate vengeance. (And this forgiveness that we practice toward others mimics God's forgiveness of us, Matt 18:23-35.)

A couple of things to notice about the structure of the chapter. First, the sections on potential relationship breakdown occupy half the chapter, while the need for forgiveness occupies the remaining half chapter. There is a suggestion here, I think, of the importance of forgiveness no matter what else is said about particular instances of church discipline.

Second, while forgiveness seems to be the primary and overriding imperative here, church discipline cannot be excluded. Arrogant leadership brings judgment (threatened eternal judgment, see 18:3, 8-9), and improper behaviour linked to an arrogant unwillingness to be corrected results in 'ex-communication' (with earthly consequences and heavenly implications, see 18:18-20)

By holding all these threads together without a simple resolution the passage reflects the complexity of real life. It just isn't enough, in the face of serious ecclesial failure, to speak only of forgiveness. Similarly, however, heavy-handed punishment is overriden by the dominical imperative to forgive.

Friday, 5 September 2008

Reading Scripture

How to interpret Scripture has always been the key to the Christian faith. Even before we had the writings that ended up in the New Testament it is clear that people were working the Scriptures.

So how do we read the Scriptures? The most important point is to read each part according to the whole. This is a tricky thing because we are reading Scripture and working it well before we understand the whole. This is one reason why dismissing Scriptural texts, especially ones representative of the important themes of Scripture can prevent the reader ever understanding the whole.

A few examples at this point. Take some of the well known stories of Genesis 1-11. They are not meant to be read literally; this is not the point of why they are where they are in the Bible. Genesis 1-11 is, if you like, setting the scene for what is to unfold in the remainder of the Bible. These stories represent the universal predicament of humankind and creation, the cul de sac from which we are to be liberated. Genesis 12, on the other hand, begins God's response to the universal predicament. The response is the calling of Abraham and Sarah, culminating (if I am permitted to telescope things a bit!) in Jesus. To become bogged down in the historicity of Adam and Eve or the ark is to miss the point of how these stories function in the Bible. (Reread Romans 5:18-21 with this in mind as it will make a huge amount of sense of what Paul is saying.) In this case we read these first chapters in the light of the total structure of Scripture.

John 14:28 is another example of the need to read from the perspective of the whole.
Jesus says "The Father is greater than I." The heretics love this because they use it to reinforce their alien understanding of the eternal relationship between the Father and Son. The Son is not eternally subordinate to the Father. If it were so that the Son was eternally subordinate, the whole gospel unravels, for God remains the shadowy figure behind Jesus and our salvation is not inclusion in the very life of God but a subordinate relationship. Read from the perspective of the whole (and in this case the whole as represented in the historic Creeds of the Church) this verse does not mean an eternal subordination. It refers to the manner in which the eternal self-effacement of the Son is translated in the life of the incarnate Christ.

But how do we work each portion from the perspective of the whole? It is essential to work each part of Scripture, no matter how small, on its own terms. But 'on its own terms' includes the wider context of the passage. So one must work a few verses in the context of the chapter, the book, the testament, the whole Bible, and the historic faith of the church derived from working these Scriptures before you and I were even around.

It is important for each of us, as we work Scripture, to bear in mind the whole that we are constructing. Does the Scripture we are working fit the whole? Before it is rejected, it is important to gain a sense of why it doesn't, and in rejecting it how much other Scripture we are leaving out. The less Scripture left out from our 'whole', the better. (And please, unless you are of the stature of Hans Urs von Balthasar or Karl Barth or the like, don't tell me you include all Scripture in your 'whole'. Indeed, even those two greats probably struggled with some of Scripture and how to fit it into the whole.) It is more likely that, instead of rejecting a piece of Scripture, it can be reworked in the light of the whole. A few examples of this latter procedure will follow in the near future.

God Almighty

















"When we express trust in ‘God the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible’, we affirm that we have grounds for hoping that our lives, in all their fragmentedness, their conflict and their imperfection, can be held and drawn into cohesion – just as the diverse and alarming world itself is held in cohesion – so that God’s own self-consistent active love and beauty may be reflected within the universe." (Rowan Williams)

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Chalcedon, prosaically stated

Jesus turned towards the world is God's wisdom and power in action; but Jesus turned towards the Father is the embodiement of a sort of divine response to divine generosity, the Son turned towards the Father. The life of God is not only the outpouring gift, it's a life in which our own response of selfless gratitude and response is also foreshadowed for ever. Jesus is divine responding embodied in our nature and our world; he responds freely and totally to the gift of the Father, and that response is no less divine than the gift - a perfect response that is both human and more than human. (Rowan Williams)

Wednesday, 3 September 2008

God is Not the One Who Pushes the First Domino

St John's Chapel, Exodus 3:1-15, the great 'I AM.'

Here is how one of the arguments for the existence of God goes. Here I am, but there is a cause as to how I got here, and a cause behind that, behind that, behind that.... until we get to God. (I had a line of dominos to push over, starting from the first domino to elucidate the point.)

And the question that comes to mind immediately? Who caused God.

Exactly. And that's why the proof doesn't work.

Except it is not the argument that Christianity developed. We don't think God is one cause among many, who just happens to be the first cause next to the first domino.

I'll come back to this.

Turning to the story today. God has heard the cry of the people, the cry of the oppressed, and God intends to free them from their slavery and lead them into a prosperous land flowing with milk and honey. Moses is a bit non-plussed by it all, and asks for God's name. And God says, "I AM".

Strange; it is incomplete. "I am a man, I am Warren Huffa, I am human, I am not a chair, etc; all these are sensible and complete. They define who I am, and do this partly by defining that I am not you, not that chair, etc. But "I AM"?

God just is. God is already complete. God doesn't need to define God's self any further, no need to define God's self over against something else. God just is.God doesn't need us to be complete. This stretches our theological imagination. Christianity thinks of God as absolutely full, with no need to define Godself in relationship to you or I, no need to compete with you or I.

Go back to the example of the dominoes. God is not therefore the one who starts the dominoes off. God is more like the reason why there are any dominoes at all. What pushes them over is as natural as the dominoes themselves. [This means that belief in God is not an alternative to science in explaining the functioning of the universe.]

When you next come to chapel I am going to use this in a subtle piece of theology, but a life transforming one.

In the Stillness

Eternal God, show us how deeply important it is to care and not to care, to let go and allow you to be Lord.

Lord, teach us the silence of humility, the silence of wisdom, the silence of love, the silence that speaks without words, the silence of faith.

Lord, teach us to silence our own hearts and minds: that we may listen to the movement of the Holy Spirit within us and sense the depths which are God. Amen.

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

The Log in Your Own Eye

St John's Chapel, Luke 6:41-42.

Who likes being gossiped about? No one?
Now, who has gossiped about someone else? You get the point.

No one likes it being done to them, but we all do it. And if you haven't done it, you will. Don't feel bad though; welcome to the human race!

Jesus knew this about us. He likened it to missing the plank in your own eye while criticizing someone else for the matchstick in their eye. (I had a plank and a match held up at this point.) That is, we apply standards to others that we do not maintain ourselves, and are often oblivious to this blindness.

Why? Well, I suppose we feel better about ourselves when we do it. But it gives us a false sense of self and fractures community. There is a better way to strengthen our sense of self rather than criticizing others, and, at the same time, have the courage to face our own truth and do something about it. The key is finding our sense of self in God. This does not mean that we can't find our own sense of self, but just that we do not rely on ourselves alone, for then we will tend to reinforce our sense of self at the expense of others.To find our sense of self in God is to give ourselves a foundation that is solid in itself, not requiring us to pull others down to build ourselves up.

Monday, 1 September 2008

The Desires of the Flesh


St John's Assembly, Galatians 5:13-1, 22-23.

Some people say that we are the most sexually liberated and free generations of humans ever. And that we have successfully thrown off the chains of sexual oppression that held back former generations.

Well, historically, not exactly true in the way we think. Not true that former generations were necessarily sexually chained in all respects. And certainly not true that this generation is liberated in comparison. It seems to me there are new chains. Like peer pressure, to be cool means, for some, to be sexually active. It doesn't look anything like freedom from where I stand. Looks more like a new oppression to me. But I am just a priest... Resist the pressure, and you might find freedom. That will take courage, and character, and I am starting to learn that courage and character are here in abundance.

Christianity has been criticized for being one of those forces historically that said sex was bad, that anything that was enjoyable was bad. Some truth in that, I am sad to say. But not exactly true. I missed that bit in my Christian formation. I found what Christianity has always said, and it is this: whatever we do, however we exercise our freedom, if what we do is done selfishly, or if the result of our freedom is the pain of another, then it's wrong; if it is done out of love, consideration for the other, then it is right. True freedom does not lie in doing whatever we like. True freedom lies somewhere else.

St Paul in today's reading from the Bible says that true freedom is to be found in the Spirit of God. He contrasts the fruit of the Spirit with the consequences of selfishness. Selfishness brings with it enmity, jealousy, anger, envy and the like. Of course it does, because selfishness (no matter how free it seems) is about me, not us. The Spirit of God, in contrast, brings with it love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Nothing enslaves this Spirit and its fruit, and this Spirit, the Spirit of Jesus, leads to true freedom.

Let us pray.
Jesus, in your life and teaching you showed us the way to true freedom, a freedom that cannot be bound by selfishness, but instead leads to life in abundance for all. We pray for hearts that are free, free to love, free to be joyful, free to be generous, and free to be peaceful.
Give us the courage to choose to be truly free. Amen.