On the Ordination of Women Part IV(ii): Headship

(Continuing some thoughts on how thin the headship thing is as an argument against the ordination of women.)

To my knowledge, the only other passage which refers to headship is to be found in the household code of Ephesians (5:21-33), where it is explicitly stated that the husband is head over his wife as Christ is head over the church. Notice it is husband and wife, which seems not irrelevant to the debate. And notice that no attempt is made to connect the headship of husband over wife with ministerial leadership in the Christian community. Indeed, when Ephesians speaks of the ascended Christ's gifts to the church, the ministries mentioned are ones we know women held.

It is not only the headship idea that is thin. There is only one text in the whole of the NT that actually forbids women to teach men (1Tim 2:2), although, again, this might refer only to husbands and wives. There is another which commands women to be silent in church (1Cor 14:34f, although remember in 1Cor 11 Paul acknowledges that women are praying and prophesying in church, and safeguards this ministry through what he writes), while none of the passages around the submission of wives (not women in general) in the household codes and in Titus (Col 3:18f; Ephes 5:21-33; 1Peter 3:1-7; Tit 2:5) make a connection between the subordination of wife to husband and ministerial leadership in the church. On the other hand the NT is full of women's ministry that gives them authority within the church. Junia is a good example, the woman apostle mentioned by Paul. (Rom 16:7) There is also a woman deacon named Phoebe (Rom 16:1), and women prophets (Ac 21:9; 1Cor 11:5), as well as various other female workers Paul mentions inhis letters. (Rom 16:3, 6, 12; Phil 4:2f cf 1Thess 5:12f)

And one final point: those who think that a woman cannot have spiritual authority over a man, what about the Queen's role in the CofE? Many of those against the ordination of women seem also to take seriously BCP's acknowledgement of the monarch's spiritual authority in the church. Seems a bit odd.

Reading Genesis 12

Pentecost 3, Year A, June 1, 2008. Preached at Belair.

Tomorrow we read Genesis 12:1-9 at Holy Communion. It is a crucial passage in Scripture. Genesis 1-11 is what could be called myth. By this is meant a story that tells us something that is applicable to all. So we begin with the creation story, "and it was good". Then comes the Fall, and the spread of sin. This is narrated in the murder of Abel, the evil of the human heart unchanged after the flood, Babel, etc. This is the universal human predicament, the cul-de-sac that all people, of all times, in all cultures, face. And it is characterised in Genesis 1-11 by the human arrogance that seeks to be God and growing violence.(E.g. Genesis 4:23-25, a vengeance even greater than God's! Cf Genesis 4:15) This is the predicament from which we all need to be saved.

And what is God's response to this cul-de-sac of human history? Genesis 12 and the call of Abraham and Sarah. They are to leave this cul-de-sac and live rough because God promises that through them a great nation will arise, and that through them all the families of the world will be blessed. (See Hebrews 11:8-12) They believe God and are obedient to the call. And from there the rest of the Bible unfolds. And all people are blessed in Christ, son of Abraham and Sarah. (Matt 1:1)

A couple of points:

• Those who try to maintain the historicity of the events of Genesis 1-11 are missing the point. It doesn't matter, truly, because Gen 1-11 is not to be thought of history as we usually think of it. That is Genesis 12 and following.
  
  
• In fact, by trying to switch the focus to whether Adam and Eve existed etc, these funny Christians are blunting the Scriptural witness. I am Adam. I live in Babel. This is the point.
  
  
• Genesis 12 begins what we might normally think of as history, and we can ask of it all of those sorts of questions. That this is not myth in the sense of Genesis 1-11 does not mean it is without universal importance. It is. Jesus, the offspring of Abraham and Sarah, is of universal import, but he is this precisely in his particularity. He is not 'me' in the mythic sense I just called myself Adam. He is the Word made flesh. He is not symbolic of something already true if only I could reach into myself (some kind of pagan salvation myth), he is God's interruption of the cul-de-sac in the flesh.
  

The Unity of Creation and Redemption

In Irenaeus, too, the larger theological context of the Christological problem is apparent: the unity of Godhead and humanity in Christ also involves the question of the unity of creation and redemption, of God and world. Jesus Christ is not understood simply as a great exception, but rather as the new beginning. (Walter Kasper)

In Search of a Human Jesus

The search for the historical Jesus makes interesting reading. It is a problem, though, when it is undertaken with a competitive notion of God in the background. Humanity and divinity will compete within Jesus and his ministry. The more human we make Jesus (the liberals), the less room there is for an incarnate God. The more we want Jesus to be God-directed (the conservatives), the less human Jesus becomes. Liberals say the conservatives are docetists, and the conservatives call the liberals adoptionists. Liberals evacuate his ministry of supernaturalism and the conservatives try to find bits of his ministry that prove his divinity. Both have a competitive understanding of God; a God whose essence is defined over-against the rest of us. We must remember that because God is transcendent there is not a competition between creation and divinity. Jesus can be fully human and fully divine. Jesus can be truly human and have God as his source, which is just to say what the ancients have said before us in affirming the Word's assumption of his humanity. And because of this assumption by the transcendent God, we are not to look for bits of Jesus' ministry that prove his divinity, or divide his ministry between those parts that are divine and those that are human. He acts always as the incarnation of the Word. The divinity of Christ is invisible, by which I mean that it is the human Jesus we see. But his divinity is discerned invisibly in his human acts, not alongside them or behind them. In other words, Jesus is indivisibly human and divine in such a way that he is God in the flesh, not God behind the flesh.

Feeling the need to choose between a fully human Jesus or a divine figure is an example of the problem affecting so much contemporary theology and the reaction against it, and partially explains the great divide between liberal and conservative theology. And surprisingly, the liberals and conservatives are closer than they think, at least in their common foundational theological error.

The Dogma of the Monist

In their doubt of miracles there was a faith in a fixed and godless fate; a deep and sincere faith in the incurable routine of the cosmos. The doubts of the agnostic were only the dogmas of the monist. (G. K. Chesterton)

On the Ordination of Women Part IV(i): Headship

Headship is used as an argument against the ordination of women. The essence of the headship argument is that women are not to have authority over men, and should be submissive because that is what the Bible says. This is a pretty thin argument, especially given how much weight some attach to it.

There are only two passages that speak directly of headship, and neither of them use it to prevent the ministry of women. In 1Cor 11:2-16 Paul uses the idea that man (or husband) is the head of woman (or wife) to enforce the practice of women (wives) wearing veils when they pray or prophesy in church. This is not about ministerial authority in the church. Indeed, upon reading the passage again we can see that Paul's intention is to safeguard and affirm the right of women to pray and prophesy in the church, and highlights the interdependence of men and women in the Lord. (See also 1Cor 7:3-5) If this passage is seen to be important in the debate it seems to me it could only be used to require appropriate head wear on the part of women priests (seems like an argument for the consecration of women bishops!, or perhaps only those women priests who are married (and whose husbands are present).

As an aside, it is said by opponents of the ordination of women that the headship of men over women cannot be a cultural accretion because it is based by Paul on the order of creation. So, for example, in vv 8-9 Paul uses the second story of creation in Gen 2:21ff to explain the need for women/wives to wear hats in church. But most of us would think that the wearing of hats is a cultural accretion that can be shed. So the argument that headship is more than a cultural expression because it is grounded in other parts of Scripture needs to be approached with discernment.

Also notice that in 1Cor 11 headship is first about origin. God is the origin/head of Christ, man is the origin/head of woman. (Again, Gen 2:21ff is in the background.) If Paul's purpose were to enforce a rigid order of ministerial authority, or intended that this passage might be a bulwark of such a notion, he is making a strange argument. He mentions the descending order of origin, but then says that , 'in the Lord', men and women are not independent, and that men come from women, and that in any event, all come from God. (vv11-12) His purpose is to safeguard the right of women to prophesy and pray at church, and is ensuring that the origin-authority nexus is not overdone.

And what authority are we talking about? Whatever it is, it is not ministerial authority, and whatever the theology, the submission of women/wives is achieved with a hat.

Theological Imagination

Arius’ religious imagination simply could not accommodate a God who did what Jesus Christ has done. (Anne Hunt)

On the Ordination of Women Part III: The Fatherhood of God

The early trinitarian debates gave the Fatherhood of God a quite specific nuance that cannot be ignored in the ordination of women debates. In the debate over the last few decades it is worrying when people make God the heavenly image of the patriarchal father-figure. It is also worrying when people extend this to some inherent connection between human fatherhood, the fatherhood of God and male priests. Or worse, a crass linear course from the maleness of the language of 'Father' when applied to God to the need for a male priest. The first and determinative meaning of the 'Fatherhood of God' should be derived from its trinitarian meaning. In the Trinity, the Fatherhood of God is about finding identity in relationship. This is not a patriarchal idea. And it is a long bow to draw to get from this to an only male priesthood.

'Father' is a naturally relational term. It makes no sense apart from reference to a child. This is why the orthodox maintained the eternal fatherhood of God. God cannot be considered apart from the Son. (There was never a time when God was not Father, implying that intra-divine relationship lies at the very heart of divinity.) Furthermore, the Father's eternal identity comes from the relationship with the Son. Identity and relationship are not related in inverse proportion. The more we pronounce the identity of the Father the more the relationship with the Son is affirmed.

If priesthood is about safeguarding the Fatherhood of God, then priesthood cannot be about representing patriarchy. The eternal Fatherhood of God is non-patriarchal despite the exclusive male terms of Father-Son (although not Spirit, but it is a bit amorphous granted). If we are to take this trinitarian meaning of the Fatherhood of God seriously then priesthood is not about maleness, not about patriarchal power, but about relationship-in-identity. This makes a lot of sense to those who are ordained. We are not submerged into a congregation or the wider church. We retain our identity, but we retain this identity precisely because we are related to the body of the church. We are not priests to the world, but priests in the church. (As far as I am aware, in the New Testament the word for 'priest' is applied to Jesus and the church, not to the ministers of the church.) Lose our relationship to the wider body, and so our identity as priests gradually dissipates.

Fudge this first meaning of the eternal Fatherhood of God in the theology of ordination and the whole Christian paradigm unravels. It undermines the Trinity for one thing, which is not good. But also our vision of salvation is transformed into an alien understanding. Christianity believes in a salvation that is both relational and personal, without in anyway diminishing our identity or our relatedness. The eternal Fatherhood of God ensures this understanding is rooted in our theology of God. The same goes with the diverse gifts of the Spirit that are given for the unity of the body. (See 1Cor 12) The diversity of gifts is not a hindrance to unity, but the instrument through which the Spirit brings unity. Again, without the eternal Fatherhood of God the basis for believing this is slender.

From this vantage point the ordination of women, at a minimum, is not prohibited. But let us not be so churlish. The ordination of women makes the priesthood more diverse by including both sexes of the human race. And with this diversity encompassed in the unified office of priest, the eternal Fatherhood of God is proclaimed. And this is utterly congruent with the cross (as it should be) as revealing of the Father ('those who have seen me have seen the Father'), for it is on the cross that the unity of humankind is achieved. That unity is expressed in a priesthood open to women and men.

God's Gift of Life is Christ

The way God gives us life and holiness is by giving us Christ, therefore causing us to share in the qualities that Christ possesses. Since Christ’s giving of himself to us constitutes God’s giving us participation in himself, Christ must be God by nature, not merely by a grace borrowed from another.
(DonaldFairbairn, Grace and Christology in the Early Church, writing on Cyril of Alexandria's theology of grace (mapped to his Christology), in contrast to the theology of grace (and Christology) of Theodore of Mopsuestia. Book review to follow soon.)

The Hollowness Within

It is bordering on the banal to say that human beings have a tendency toward superficiality. Surface deep, with a great hollowness on the inside. The problem is that we try to hide our hollowness. And we do this in all kinds of ways. Education and learning is a great way to hide hollowness. Philosophically we can construct ontologies (theories about the nature of existence or being) that give us a solidity below the surface. Sartre was suspicious of these philosophical systems, which is why he coined the idea that existence precedes essence. (To prevent being defined before we live into ourselves.) Deconstructionists claim to have revealed the lie behind most of Western philosophy, showing the emptiness behind the great philosophies of being.

We can be tempted to mimic this 'fullness' with great theologies of substance in the attempt to fill up what is in fact the great hollowness at the heart of human existence. We need a theology that, instead of hiding our hollowness, allows us to live it.

We can begin this theology of hollowness with the Trinity. (Where else!) Trinitarian being (but remember God's 'being' when applied to God is not univocal; see the posts under 'transcendence') is not a fourth 'thing' next to the three persons of Father, Son and Spirit. Without the persons there is no divine substance left over. This provides a realness to personhood in the Trinity: the person is not a layer over some originate 'stuff'. Therefore when you encounter the persons you are encountering God, not a mask with God remaining a shadowy figure behind the mask. But this also leaves an emptiness or space at the very heart of God, because personhood is, in the Trinity, defined through relationship. God is eternally father, which means that God must always be defined through relationship with this other we name Son, and a relationship marked by utter self-giving and receiving, making space for the other to be the other, etc. We must think of the being of God in terms of this movement, and the identity of each person in terms of their relationship with the other. When we think of the Trinity like this we are taken away from a thick treacle-like understanding of being to a more dynamic understanding, an understanding that is a far cry from God being 'stuff'. This understanding of God is the justification for an anthropology that makes us less treacle-like beings, and more lithe with a hollowness waiting to be filled in a dynamic embrace of love. And that is the realm of Christology, specifically, the doctrine of the Incarnation.

Living Within the Reality of Love

So to know the Holy Spirit is not to have some third object put before the eyes of our theological understanding but to live within the reality of an eternal divine witness to divine life as the gift of 'otherness'. As Father and Son show us that giving as perfect mutual 'investment' of life and love, so the generation of the Spirit constitutes the mutual gift as open to be given again: there is in God also a free, self-forgetting act of pointing to the free mutuality of Father and Son. The divine life is not taken up completely in a mutuality that is inaccessible to what is other than God. (Rowan Williams, discussing the trinitarian theology of Hans Urs von Balthasar.)

The Difference Going to church Makes in My Life Part II: To Be Engaged not Entertained

I don't go to church to be entertained as such. I go to church to be engaged. There is a difference, and it is important. In the entertainment industry there is a star up front, with an audience who do not actually participate, but watch. The purpose of the entertainment is fun through distraction, or even worse, manipulation and 'bread and circuses'. Entertainment usually provides less space for the imagination, and engages the senses of sight and sound, but usually in an overwhelming manner. And the entertainment industry is slick, without the still, small voice. (See 1Kings 19:13) Some churches attempt to match their worship to this cultural expectation. Funnily enough, their capitulation to culture on this grand scale seems to go unacknowledged, and they are often the churches that accuse other churches of capitulation to the world on sexual ethics!

Traditional liturgy is not entertainment. In comparison to the entertainment industry it might be boring; and maybe that is not a bad thing. It should be engaging though. And it should provide imaginative and emotional space, time to think and respond, and give a means to do so. It should engage all the senses, but in no way overwhelm them. Even the sixth sense should be attended to in the liturgy. And liturgy should have a structure, most certainly not be manipulative, but rather through the structure of the liturgy open up 'space' to encounter God and glimpse the self, and get an intuition that something deeper is going on in our lives and the life of the world.

The Bizarre Heresy of Sydney Anglican Evanglicalism

A few points on the bizarre heresy of Sydney Anglicanism regarding the alleged eternal subordination of the Son to the Father.

• They argue that the Father, Son and Spirit are ontologically equal, but functionally subordinate in their personal relations. (Their aim is to justify the claim that men and women are ontologically equal but functionally subordinate.)

• Which is why they are wrong. There is no ontological ‘stuff’ apart from the relations. The being of God is not a fourth in the Trinity next to the three of Father, Son and Spirit.(This is not making being and person identical, just that without the persons there is nothing ‘to be’.)

• If there is a being of God apart from the relations this allows alien understandings to infect our theology. Orthodoxy ensures that the Son is the revelation of the Father, and cautions us against alien ideas incompatible with Jesus.

• If the Father and Son are eternally subordinate in their personal relations then the ontological consequences cannot be avoided: the Son is no longer the revelation of the Father, and God remains a shadowy figure behind the Son.

• They claim this on the basis of those passages that make Jesus subordinate in his earthly ministry.

• And also those passages that make him subordinate eternally, if you want to read them that way. (They particularly love 1Cor 15)

• It is true that the love of the Father and Son in the earthly life of Jesus is expressed in his obedience to the will of the Father. But to read this eternally, leads to the problems above, and others.
  

• It is possible to understand the subordination of the Son in 1Cor 15 as voluntary, the voluntary love of the Son of the Father, congruent with orthodoxy.

• This bizarre doctrine, I think, is a classic example of what happens when you separate yourself synchronically and diachronically from the rest of the church. And they have done it on the most fundamental issue of the church: the doctrine of God.

• What is ironic is that, presumably, Sydney is teaching this internationally as the bankroll for Africa and Asia. The very churches that extol themselves as holding the true faith against the’ liberalism’ of gays and women. Their heresy is much more serious than anything they accuse their opponents of.

• How bizarre. Apply caution before getting into bed with them.

On the Ordination of Women Part II: The Twelve

Some people think that because the Twelve were men only men can be priests and bishops. It must be remembered that the Twelve were the symbolic heads of the renewed twelve tribes of Israel. It is hard to jump from this to a necessary and absolute link between priesthood and maleness. The offices of priest and bishop are not the historical, linear heirs of the symbolic heads of the renewed tribes of Israel. Notice how relatively obscure the Twelve were in the early church. (Hardly mentioned in Acts, and the Gospels can't agree on a set of names.) Apostleship was important, and a link between apostleship and priesthood and episcopacy can be made. But the band of apostles was much broader than the Twelve, and included a woman named Junia. (Rom 16:7)

Do Not Be Anxious

There is a spot in the Adam Sandler movie Spanglish where the Mexican maid is worrying about her daughter, and instead of the Sandler character saying, 'Hey, don't worry, it will be alright,' he says children are a good thing to worry about. Which is all a bit counter-cultural. We are told not to worry, not to stress, etc. And it is easy to read this into Jesus in Matt 6:25ff. But I don't think this is what Jesus is saying. I don't subscribe to the idea that our task is to get to a point in life where we do not have to worry. I think there are good things to worry about.

In the Scripture reading just mentioned, the contrast Jesus is drawing is between being anxious about those things that tend toward superficiality and seeking God's kingdom. He is not saying seek a spot where there is nothing to be worried about. Or should I say 'concerned'. I think the cultural message about worry and stress (that is, aspire to a stress-free life) is just a mask for withdrawal from the world. Jesus says that we should seek the kingdom. That will involve worry and stress.

A few points:

• I'm not suggesting worrying yourself sick about the kingdom. That would be to forget that it is God's kingdom, not your kingdom. Realising this allows us to take one step back from what we are striving for, to be what the tradition calls detached. It is God's kingdom, God's ultimate responsibility, and God will see it right. (We are now touching on faith and hope in the resurrection of Jesus.) This is why kingdom worries are not the anxieties of the world. (Not to mention that the kingdom anxieties are more than clothes, food etc.)
  
  
• If you have to worry about things like clothes etc, then don't worry about the fact that you are worrying about them! Just get it over and done with, do what you have to do (whatever that is) to allow you to stop worrying about that kind of stuff. And then get on with seeking the kingdom.
  

On the Ordination of Women Part I: In Persona Christi

In 1997 I moved the legislation to allow the ordination of women to the priesthood in the Diocese of Willochra.The first female bishop has been ordained in Australia now, but we are still hearing the same hackneyed arguments in oppositon. So here are some of the points (in an abbreviated form) I made in my speech, with some continuing relevance I think.

In Persona Christi: Can a Woman Represent Christ at the Altar?
The ordination of women is a necessary consequence of the theology of baptism where all who are baptised are made one with Christ. The baptised are capable and called to represent Christ in the world; that is, they are icons of Christ. To then deny the iconic nature of baptised women by arguing that they cannot represent Christ at the altar is to deny the baptism common to us all.

A good example of the iconic nature of the baptised, including women, is to be found in the Martyrs of Lyons and Vienne. In this account of martyrdoms in the late second century AD, a female disciple named Blandina is exposed to wild beasts, and when the other disciples see her they see Christ.

But Blandina was hung up fastened to a stake and exposed, as food to the wild beasts that were let loose against her. Because she appeared as if hanging on a cross and because of her earnest prayers, she inspired the combatants with great zeal. For they looked on this sister in her combat and saw, with their bodily eyes, Him who was crucified for them, that He might persuade those who trust in Him that every one who suffers for the glory of Christ has eternal communion with the living God.

In other words she was an icon of Christ. If women can represent Christ in the amphitheatre of martyrdom, then women can represent Christ at the altar. (Baptism is the foundation for both, and is why baptism is a prerequisite for ordination.) This is a basic consistency running from baptism through to ordination. Ordination cannot obliterate this iconic value of women, just as it is not ordination that gives men their iconic value as representatives of Christ in the first place. Therefore, to deny women ordination to the priesthood (and episcopate) on the grounds that they cannot stand in persona Christi is to undermine the integrity of baptism.

Relationality and Bodiliness

Among the great achievements of those who have thought trinitarianly is the concept of the person as a living whole rather than as a mind encased in matter...To be is not to be an individual; it is not to be isolated from others, cut off from them by the body that is a tomb, but in some way to be bound up with one another in relationship. (Colin Gunton)

Despair

It is more serious to lose hope than to sin. (John of Karpathos)

Book Review: Rowan Williams, 'The Dwelling of the Light. Praying with Icons of Christ.'

It is because the uttermost of death and humiliation cannot break the bond between Jesus and the Father that what Jesus touches is touched by the Father too... Because of his relation with the Father, a new relation is made possible between ourselves and this final wellspring of divine life. (p. 41)

This is a beautiful little book. First, it is tastefully set out and illustrated. Second, it provides an excellent guide to four key icons of Jesus. Third, it allows Rowan Williams to explicate a number of theological points, and especially allows him to talk about the point of the doctrines of the Trinity and Incarnation in terms not reliant on philosophy or esoteric theological knowledge. an example:

And what is true about Jesus is - if we really encounter it in its fullness - shocking, devastating: that his human life is sustained from the depths of God without interruption and without obstacle, that it translates into human terms who and what God the Son eternally is. The shock comes from realizing this means that God's life is compatible with every bit of human life, including the inner terrors of Gethsemane (fear and doubt) and the outer terrors of Calvary (torment and death). (p. 12)

In the introduction he provides a helpful summary of the theology behind the iconoclast controversy that raged in the Orthodox world over a thousand years ago. Indeed, Williams makes the point that the fruit of this debate provides us with the justification for any Christian art and imagery. Essentially, he says that the supporters of icons argued that icons "were actually a natural consequence of the way the God of the Bible worked." (p. xiii) He means here the Incarnation: the opponents thought that depicting Jesus was contrary to Chalcedon by depicting the human Jesus, and thus potentially splitting his divine and human natures; in reply, the proponents of iconography said that icons depicted the human Jesus without separating the natures because the human in Jesus is utterly "soaked through with divine life." (p. xvi)

The four icons he chooses to examine are: the Transfiguration, the Resurrection, the Hospitality of Abraham, and Pantocrator. His discussion of the Transfiguration and the Resurrection are particularly good, although that might just tell you my two favourite icons! It is worth reading his discussion of the first icon, the Transfiguration, for itself, but also because he introduces a number of features common to iconography. Especially important is the mandorla of darker colour representing the depths of God from which Jesus comes and brings with him the depths and power of the creator. The meaning of the icon hinges on this, but it doesn't follow that humanity (Jesus' and ours) and the rest of creation are excluded. This is the whole point of the Incarnation, and the icon of the Transfiguration.

The second icon he examines is the Resurrection:

• This is not an icon of the resurrection - the resurrection was a 'private' event. This is an icon of the effects of the resurrection.

• Jesus is in the centre of the icon, and framed by a mandorla
  
  
• The icon is of the victorious Christ standing over the broken down gates of the underworld.
  
  
• The defeated Satan is visible under his feet, and
  
  
• The dead have been liberated, standing behind the main action we see various figures of biblical history
  
  
• In the foreground with Jesus stand Adam and Eve, and Jesus is re-introducing them to one another.

The effect of the resurrection is the liberation of those who have been frozen in death without Christ, and through this a new and revitalised life of reconciliation. But more than this, Jesus has been to the very beginning of human sin and estrangement from each other and God.

'Adam and Eve' stand for wherever it is in the human story that fear and refusal of God began - not a moment we can date in ordinary history, any more than we can date in the history of each one of us where we began to forget God... The icon declares that wherever that lost moment is or was, Christ has been there, to implant the possibility, never destroyed, of another turning, another future; in his resurrection, he brings all those possibilities to reality.(p. 38)

Williams has a good discussion about the need to read all of Scripture through the lens of the resurrection (pp. 33-35) and our re-introduction to one another and all of creation (pp. 30-36)

I could keep going on the next two icons but you get the idea. This is a profound book, well worth reading, and if you have the opportunity, run a session on these icons in your local church.

A quote on the resurrection to finish:

The Christ of this icon, standing on the bridge over darkness and emptiness, moving into the heart of human longing and incompletion, brings into that place the mystery out of which his life streams, represented in the mandorla against which his figure is set. The locked gates of death, the frozen lives cut short, these are overcome in the act of new creation which we are witnessing. (p. 41)

Christ Our Saviour in Person

The salvation won for us in Christ on the cross and in the resurrection(and giving of the Spirit and ascension, etc.) is not external to the person of Christ. Some, in their desire to safeguard the sovereignty of God and God's grace, make the salvation won in the cross a transaction external to the person of Jesus. To summarise the external transaction idea: there is a law and those who break it must die; you have broken the law (so have I), so you deserve to die.(So do I.) But Christ takes this punishment for us, satisfying the obligation of the law through his sacrifice on the cross. The price is paid to (well, here the theory runs into real trouble, with the answers varying from Satan to God the Father) and we are saved.

There are better ways to safeguard theologically the grace of God in the cross and our utter reliance on Christ's sacrifice than this. And there are lots of reasons why this crudity should be abandoned. One reason is because Christ is no longer the saviour in person. Salvation (no matter what metaphor you are using or prefer, whether it be sacrifice, redemption etc) is won in the very being of Jesus. This is the whole point of the hypostatic union: the union of human and divine in the person of Christ, fully lived out in his life, death and resurrection, saves us. He is my saviour in his person. (Adding another layer of meaning to the phrase 'Jesus is my personal saviour'. He saves me, and he saves me in his person, not outside it.) No external transaction due to an outside force that God must obey, but the union of human and divine, and the beginning of the hypostatic union of all creation in Christ.

From Sin to More Than Everything

"In sin we have lost everything. In the Triune God we have been given infinitely more than everything." (Halden, Inhabitatio Dei)

The Continuum of Relevance and Identity

In an early article Jurgen Moltmann produces a helpful continuum between relevance and identity. The church moves between both relevance and identity; in the world but not of the world; incarnated in the world with a citizenship in heaven. If it moves too far to one side there is a reaction the other way. Mission and evangelism follows this continuum. Think of those churches that focus on ‘personal faith’ as a gathered community to the extent that their sectarian nature makes them irrelevant to the world around. Of course, they would say that is the whole point! Calling people out of the world that is passing away. Or consider those churches for whom their Christian faith seems little more than an overlay upon existing views on justice, relationships, God, etc. So relevant that they have merged back into the world around them! Mission and evangelism requires both identity and relevance. We are a people called out, yet God sent the Son to save the world. Remove the admonitions concerning justice from the Bible and it would almost be readable in one session!

It is good to ask ourselves where we are on the continuum. Where does your predilection lie? It is good to be aware of what might become excessive within our ministry, and what might be overlooked. (And as an aside, it is also important to recognise this as part of the dynamic involved in the threatened schism in the Anglican Communion at present.)

A Simple Theory of Traditional Church Decline

I have a simple theory to explain the decline of the traditional churches over the last 50 years in this diocese. We are the victims of our own success. Fifty years ago our churches were full. And as the culture changed and the gap widened between traditional churches and the lives and thinking of ordinary Australians, so decline at some point became likely. Our churches were still strong. Good numbers and lots of kids etc. But the writing was on the wall. Full churches didn't need to change. The formula had been working for so long! Some decorative change perhaps, but not the sort of change necessary. It has taken decades for us to get to the place where it is clear that more than decorative change is necessary. Our strength predisposed us away from asking and responding to the hard questions; we could, with some reasonableness, claim that the system wasn't broken.

Now we can see how long ago the system broke down. The question is how many of our churches have left it too late to respond. There is a critical level of resources below which it is very, very difficult to come back from. How many of our churches are below that critical level? How many still have the resource base to make a response? That's the question really. It is really not that hard to know the kinds of things we have to respond to, and the kinds of responses, at least in general terms, we need to make. But a church needs the resources to do so. The sad thing is that we had to let our resource base be whittled down before we reached the point of acknowledging the need for real change. But I suppose that goes with the ground of our former success.

Those churches that do respond, and have the resources adequate to sustain the response, have a good likelihood that they will be flourishing in 10 years time. Which, of course, will bring the problems of success further down the track. That's the cycle I suppose.

All Are Sinners Implies the Need for Evangelism

One of the hard things about coming to faith (or a deeper faith) is to admit that we have to change our ideas and lives. The underlying principle is that we are wrong and the inherited faith is right (to put it crudely; yes I know it is not about being right and wrong, but the crudity has its point). We have to learn afresh how to be human, have our ideas and expectations turned over, and act differently. (If it were not so Christianity seems a little superfluous.) It applies to all of us, and does not matter how long we have been people of faith. This is partly why I have more sympathy for evangelism than many others in the progressive wing of the church. There is a tendency amongst progressives to eschew evangelism because it assumes that the 'targets' are missing something that they need and we (the evangelists) have. For many progressives this smacks of colonialism. And, of course, it can be the face of a crude colonialism. Despite that, the gospel does assume that there is a lack within us, and that only God can fill this lack, and God has done this in Jesus Christ. All people must hear and respond. This understanding need not be colonialist, and in fact, it could be argued that those who hold out for a 'universal religious experience expressed in multiple ways' approach might just be the ones pushing the colonialist wagon! But more on that later. Three points that might go someway toward a more positive appraisal of the evangelist's task.

• All have sinned, and all need the saving grace of Jesus Christ. No exceptions, and self-righteousness is explicitly contrary to the inner logic of evangelism. Don't judge evanglism by the repellent aspects of smug/I'm saved Christianity.
  
  
• All need what they do not have naturally, and this deficit is present in each of us and in every culture. There is no basis for pride (on the part of the evangelist) in this; quite the reverse. We should all be joined together by the bonds of humility and the knowledge of our continuing need. Whatever we have received through Christ is pure and unadulterated gift. Even faith is a gift. (One of the problems with smug Christianity: it becomes a work.)
  
  
• God has chosen to bring salvation through a means that is not universally available naturally. The good news of salvation must be brought to each and every one of us. That is, the good news of God's salvation in Christ is spread by the simple, and profound, act of opening our doors and lives to our neighbours. How very humble and un-selfrighteous. Indeed, how very Christ-like.
  

It's All About Union

There are many metaphors used to speak of our relationship with God, and what Jesus has done for us in his death and resurrection. But I am going to make a statement which is not fully thought out or researched, but intuitively seems right. All of these metaphors (e.g. beatific vision, messianic banquet, forgiveness of sins, etc) are summed up in the metaphor of union with God. I realise that this is using one of the metaphors as the metaphor, but it seems to me that this metaphor takes us directly to the underlying consistency of the Christian gospel. Our end is to be united with God, and we see this end in Jesus. All the other metaphors fall under the power and meaning of what this metaphor refers to: our deep and abiding union with God through Christ and the Spirit. The forgiveness of sins is a good example. An absolute ton has been written about the forgiveness of sins, and some Christians make it the determining metaphor for Christ's work of salvation. There is nothing wrong with this as long as we realise that 'forgiveness of sins' is about union: sin prevents our union with God; forgiveness of sins makes union possible.

The doctrines of the Incarnation and the Trinity teach us this. They are, if you like, the abbreviations of the whole Christian schema. They direct our theology as the spectacles through which we read the rest of our experience, and guide us in our interpretation of Scripture. Both doctrines are about union: the union of humanity and divinity in Jesus, and the union of love of Father and Son in the power of the Spirit within the Trinity. Some metaphors have a natural affinity with this abiding vision of God, others need its correction. Forensic metaphors (like judge) are useful, but need to be kept in contact with the union of love we call the Holy Trinity.

Trinity Sunday 2008

Anglicans in Australia are invited to celebrate Trinity Sunday this week. So a few thoughts:

• When preaching on the Trinity it is generally useful to help people be less obsessive about how 3 = 1.
  
  
• Although you could get them thinking a little about the threeness and oneness of God by saying that whereas the threeness may be numerical, the oneness of the Trinity has in it a sense of the oneness of union. It will still raise the question why one God not three, but it is a good start. (And the idea of union and unity will lay the ground work to the answer as to why we do not worship 3 gods.) Most people will get what you are driving at. Especially if you use some examples like community, marriage where two become one, etc.
  
  
• I'll be talking about images of God and how our image of God affects how we see ourselves, our purpose and how we act. Bloodthirsty gods are worshiped by bloodthirsty people. Chac mool is a case in point. Three images of God appropriate for Trinity Sunday are:
  
  
• A lava lamp! I'll be using this in my kids' talk. When it is heated up the wax inside is moving around, bits breaking off and floating around a bit and then reuniting with the mass. This is not an image for how 3=1, but points to thinking of God as dynamic, with this movement of Father, Son and Spirit.
  
  
• The cross, of course. The crucifixion of Jesus is the Trinitarian event. There are three actors in the event of the cross, Father, Son and Spirit. (See 1Jn 4:7-16) In the cross the Son experiences a godforsakenness bridged by the Father's love in the person of the Spirit. (Or, if you follow von Balthasar, the ultimate image becomes the descent into hell, the 'place' of utter godforsakenness.) This requires more work to get across, but is worth mentioning so that people get the hang of the idea that the Trinity isn't disconnected from the history of Jesus and the Bible.
  
  
• Rublev's Trinity (see picture above) with its deferential figures, picture of hospitality with eucharistic cup and open circle, and our eye not converging to a distant horizon, but drawn back to ourselves, inviting us to join the three in the picture.

Best wishes for those preaching this week-end!

Forgiveness of Sins

Christ's forgiveness of our sins is not the reprieve of a judge but the embrace of a lover. (John Main)

Doing Theology is a Religious Experience

Empiricism can be defined as that philosophical movement that restricts reality to what can be proven to be in the world. ('Proof' residing within a narrow set of criteria.) Theory, from this angle, has no take on reality. The religious parallel is those who restrict the 'stuff' of faith to experience, exclusive of theologising. This tendency can be observed among those particularly struck by a spiritual experience, often restricted to an emotional experience or, at least, an emotional response to the experience concerned. I think here of some of the excesses of the charismatic and pentecostal movements. And, surprisingly, it is to be found among the liberal wing of the church whose theology too often appears as a thin veneer easily peeled away from the rock of experience (experience often couched in psychological terms or a broad, inchoate spiritualism). And then there are, of course, those utterly obsessed with a personal relationship with Jesus (again, narrowly defined).

Perhaps this goes back to the split between theology and spirituality that occurred in the West a thousand years ago or more, and is still so evident today in the progressive wing of the church. In earlier times spirituality and theology were not seen as separate but were united in true theologia. Why exclude theology (in the narrow sense) from our total religious experience? Let the barriers between spirituality and theology soften a bit, and let 'doing theology' be the religious experience (understood in a very broad sense) it so obviously is. It would seem to me that those who do theology well are those for whom theology is a religious experience, breaking down the narrow understanding of religious empiricism. If we were to do this, it would then be possible to reclaim our Christian heritage that understood the doctrine of the Trinity to be the ground for Christian mysticism (rather than some kind of general sense of the incomprehensibility of God being the foundation of mysticism). Theology could then take its place as a language of mysticism. (E.g. the doctrine of the Trinity)

http://www.blackwoodonline.com.au/

For those who have read the previous post it was written for the webpage of Blackwood online, an online service for the businesses and community groups of Blackwood and Belair. (It should be on the web page this week.) It is an attempt to talk about the Trinity and the non-competitive God mentioned in previous posts. The doctrine of the Trinity is trying to tell us that identity and relationship are not in conflict or competition. To use traditional language and concepts, God is Father eternally, the significance of which is that the identity of God as Father is eternally linked to the Father's relationship to the Son. God is never not the Father (implying a Son), so identity and relationship come together in naming God as Father. And although couched in masculine language, this is a very non-patriarchal view of God. And, of course, the reason God can carry our self-offering is because God is not in competition with us. God is 'disinterested' as the spirituality traditions of the church affirm.

Aspiring to Longevity?

Longevity in itself is not something worth aspiring to. Which sounds a little counter-intuitive in a society like ours. We are obsessed with it, and with the avoidance of death. But the real question is what we live for, and who we are in that life. The alternative to longevity is not an early death, but self-giving. Who we are is realised not in saving ourselves, but in giving ourselves. This was one of the key insights of Jesus and embedded in the faith of the church in its eucharistic practice of Holy Communion, and doctrinally in the belief in God the Trinity.Person and relationship are not inversely related (the more relationship the less personal identity). Exactly the opposite is true.

How do we work that out in our lives? It can be tough, especially in a society afraid of death and obsessed with longevity. And especially tough if one does not know to whom to give oneself. Jesus teaches us to give ourselves not just to each other. To do that would be to give ourselves to those who cannot, ultimately, carry our self-giving. As much as each of us struggles to truly give of ourselves without strings attached, so too we each struggle to receive the self-giving of others. No wonder a sense of betrayal or frustration too easily follows the great moments of our lives where we try to offer ourselves to others! (Think of the divorce rate, which is greatly increased if de facto breakdown is included.) Jesus thinks that we are to give ourselves to God, for it is only God who can carry such a self-offering in a non-possessive and disinterested way (by which I mean without self-interest). But Jesus teaches us to make this self-offering to God through others. Without God our self-giving can too easily end up self-seeking or an expression of self-hate. Without others, our self-giving to God ends up bloodless. And with self-offering to God through others longevity is neither here nor there.

Pentecost and the Grand Design of Humanity

Franz Kafka wrote stories about political and social control. Grand projects of uniformity, with those who fail to fit persecuted. The Tower of Babel is the great myth of the Bible that tells us that this is part of the human predicament from which we must be saved. It is seen throughout history wherever uniformity becomes the foundation upon which human arrogance attempts to build an everlasting testament to itself. History is strewn with these grand projects, from the macro level of empires down to the micro level of families. But God is kind to humankind and destroys the tower, and separates people into language groups so that there can never be a successful grand design. Human diversity and variety will always bring down the grand project, at least eventually.

The destruction of Babel and the disunity of humankind is not God's final response, though. God's vision for humanity is not Babel, but it is unity. Pentecost is the Biblical 'answer' to Babel and all attempts to mimic Babel. Notice that in the story of Pentecost in Acts 2 language is not a barrier to unity. But not the uniformity of a single language, for everyone hears in their own tongue. And what do they hear? The good news about Jesus. This is not to be confused with some grand design rolling out over the top of human difference, for it is not founded on uniformity (symbolized in Babel by a single, universal language) and is achieved through the death and resurrection of Jesus, a victim of the Roman Babel. Moreover, in addition to the universal message communicated in each tongue, the Jesus 'project' is directed toward God, and is not a monument to human arrogance. The message of Jesus is communicated through the art of a living discipleship and persuasive proclamation, and the result is a humanity oriented toward God.

A few points to finish:

• The Spirit of Jesus received at Pentecost will always lead the baptised to oppose the grand designs of humanity, whether at the macro or the micro level.
  
• The unity of the church is not an authoritarian based uniformity, but a genuine unity respectful of differences. Even the differences that usually pull us apart.
  

Receiving the Spirit

What does it mean to receive the Spirit? Pentecost Sunday is the celebration of the Spirit, when we remember and celebrate the giving of the Holy Spirit.[1] There is some confusion as to the fundamental meaning of ‘receiving the Spirit’. Some in the Pentecostal movement have twisted it to become a means of excluding those unlike them[2], while the charismatic movement (rightly) focuses on spiritual gifts[3], but this focus has the tendency to obscure the fundamental meaning (and experience) of the Spirit. The Christian tradition affirms over and over that the Spirit enables us to join in the relationship Jesus enjoys with God. In traditional language, the Holy Spirit is the personal bond of love between the Father and Son, and through the gift of the Spirit we are ‘adopted’ as children of God, enjoying the same loving intimacy with God as Jesus the beloved Son.[4] This puts the Christian experience of the Spirit in a little more perspective and retrieves ‘receiving the Holy Spirit’ from some of the excesses of Pentecostalism.

First, it means that there is something going on in us as people of faith that is more important and deeper than we usually realise. Jesus is God in the flesh, the co-equal Son of God, enjoying the closest possible intimacy with God the Father; an intimacy of complete union. We share in that intimacy through receiving the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Jesus. This is an intimacy beyond what is natural to our humanity. Through Christ and the Spirit we actually enter the very life of God, the love of the Father and the Son.

Second, this intimacy is not individual, as though it were just about each of us individually and God. We share an unimaginable intimacy with God that will be completely realised eternally, but we enjoy this intimacy together. The Father and the Son share their love (the Spirit) to enable us to join them in their community/communion of love. Intimacy is not individual.

Third, a primary sign of the presence of the Spirit in our lives is Christian community echoing the communion/community of the Father, Son and Spirit. This is Paul’s point in 1Corinthians 12, especially verses 1, 4-7, 27. All other manifestations and gifts of the Spirit do not contradict this first principle.

Fourth, when bad things occur this bond of love with the Father and Son through the Spirit remains. Even when it feels like we are deserted. Even Jesus experienced this[5], but the bond of love remained, and bridged the godforsakenness of the cross[6] and even hell itself.[7]

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[1] See Acts 2:1-11; 10:44-48; John 20:19-23.

[2] They love Mark 16:17 and these signs become a proof of faith. See note 3 for Paul’s own rejoinder to their misreading of Mark 16:17. Also 1Cor 14:1-19.

[3] See 1Cor 12:4-13. Note also 1Cor 12:27-31, where the answer to the rhetorical questions is ‘No’, not all receive the same gifts. And the still more excellent way he mentions is love. (1Cor 13:1-13).

[4] For example, Jn 14:18-21; Rom 8:14-17; Ephes 2:17-18. For Jesus the beloved, see Matt 3:17.

[5] Matt 26:36-46

[6] Matt 27:46

[7] 1Pet 3:18-20

God, Salvation and Materiality

We take bodiliness and materiality very seriously. The 'stuff' of creation is not evil, but good. Nor is it something to escape from. We are our bodies in the sense that there isn't some real me hidden inside my body. Which is why, of course, we recite belief in the resurrection of the body in the Creed. Salvation in the Christian schema is not 'spiritual', if we mean by that immaterial. God had to become part of creation (and remain God) for creation to be saved. Reflect on that and the world, and our mission within it, becomes more Christlike, more real, and more comprehensive.

There is a tight nexus between creation, Incarnation, sacraments and the resurrection of the body. Start with any one of them and you end up with all the others; unpick any one of them, and the whole lot will, eventually, disappear. There is a consistency here in the way in which God relates to the 'stuff' of creation. Intimately, and without antagonism. Indeed, exactly the opposite to antagonism. While there is no direct proportionality between God and creation, creation is made to find its home in God. If it were not so, and if salvation were just a matter of escape from our materiality, why did God become human? Surely a meditational technique would have sufficed! Or if something a bit more were needed than just a meditational technique, maybe the appearance of an avatar to proclaim some secret knowledge for the initiated and those to be saved. (Sounds like some forms of 'Christianity' doesn't it!) But God becomes human for the salvation of the good creation, and this salvation is the union of creation with God . We call it resurrection, and it is not the destruction of our materiality, but the transformation of our materiality into its final form. Which is why we have sacraments. The Eucharist can truly communicate God. (Remember, the non-competitive God of true transcendence can be 'in' the sacrament without compromising or diminishing the integrity of the 'stuff' of the sacrament.) The final form of bread as a complete and holistic nourishment of the human body and soul is anticipated in the bread of the Eucharist. And it does this precisely as bread.

The Ascended Lord Who Suffered and Died

That resurrection has nail holes in it is important. That the crucified-risen Jesus is bodily ascended into heaven reinforces the point. I remember one of my first major pastoral failures. At the hospital bed with an elderly woman sweating blood about dying in a forthcoming operation. In a nutshell, she wanted to live and sought assurance from me that she would. I gave that assurance. Cheaply. And she died. Christ sweated blood at Gethsemane, and there was no cheap (worthless) grace. God does not necessarily save us from suffering, does not necessarily heal us, and we all have to die. (Isn't there a book title, 'Everyone Wants To Go To Heaven but Nobody Wants To Die'? Or words to that effect.) That God in the flesh suffered and brought salvation, is resurrected and still has nail holes, and is then bodily resurrected (that is, Jesus' personal history of suffering is taken into heaven, is part of the sacred story of his fulfillment as a human person) suggests to me that we should not immediately seek only to avoid suffering and death. Of course we seek healing, but a deeper response leaves open the possibility of Gethsemane. Death and suffering might not be part of God's plan, but God uses suffering and death, often inscrutably, for God's purposes. The good news is that the resurrection and ascension tells us that all shall be well, eventually anyway! God shows us in Jesus how God can rework sin, suffering and death for salvation and completion.

The Ascension of Jesus

The Ascension of Jesus, for all the theological problems it raises (e.g."where" did Jesus go!), seems quite important to me, for at least two reasons.

The first reason concerns the significance and universality of the Word made flesh. Jesus ascends (and remembering anonymous' caution regarding the metaphorical nature of our language, and Phillip's comment, quoting Baron, that God is not so much somewhere else but somehow else) to God signifying the universality of the crucified-risen Jesus, the Word made flesh. Jesus is with God, and from here the Father sends the Spirit of God over all the world, now impressed by the crucified-risen Christ. Moreover, this means that the full humanity of Jesus, including his crucifixion and resurrection, is also of eternal significance. Matter is found 'in' the eternal life of God the Holy Trinity, within the eternal, heavenly dwelling of God. (Lots of metaphor here.) The Ascension of Jesus points again to the goal of all creation: union with God in God's own life (through hypostatic union with the Son).

Second, the story of the ascension in Acts 1:6-11 has the disciples looking up into the heavens, even though Jesus has gone from their sight. And then two men question the disciples, the result of which leads them back into the world, back to Jerusalem to receive the Holy Spirit and complete their task as witnesses 'to the ends of the earth.' (1:8) They will witness to the universal Christ, who, in the particularity of his life, death and resurrection, brings universal salvation to all. (Rom 5:18-21) Following the ascended, universal Christ is first about mission.

For all its problems, the Ascension is a beautiful piece of theology.

Art and Science in Ministry Development

The science aspect is easy to see: statistics, research, data, with advice and often detailed steps or procedures, with a subject matter that is on paper or a computer. The art aspect can be overlooked, involving rhythm and timing, inspiration, discernemtn and intuition, and the subject is people. We need both, and in an integrated fashion. To ignore the science would be to refuse to learn from the experience of others, and to eschew basic human insights available to us through statistics, etc. Ignoring the art of ministry development would be to treat people as ‘things’, and fall into the trap of thinking ministry development is the result of manipulation and the application of unbending rules. Ministry development, on the contrary, is the creative liaison of the whole of human research and knowledge, both material and spiritual. It follows no unbending rules, for the Spirit blows where it will. However, the freedom of the Spirit does not mean that research and experience cannot be the means to opening ourselves to that Spirit. It is art and science, spirit and matter.

It would be true to say that the more progressive side of the Diocese of Adelaide has been slow to take up this holistic approach. I can still remember viewing leadership and management techniques and knowledge with deep suspicion. Partly, the misuse of the science by some in the church gave ministry development and its ‘science’ a poor image. We must recognise the danger, inherent in the ‘science’ of ministry development, towards superficiality, as if applying this technique will bring growth, but ignoring the question of real and lived personal and corporate faith. But this should not blind us to its benefits. And we must practice the art of ministry, engaging with real people and bringing the science to bear for the benefit of the kingdom.

Cautions Regarding Transcendence and Incarnation

The transcendence of God (and God understood as non-competitive) enables us to understand traditional Christology. Because God is truly transcendent, the fullness of God is not inversely related to our being and presence. God and creation can be proportionally related, that is, God can be fully present to us without in any way compromising our own integrity.(Indeed, just the opposite is the case; personal integrity is enhanced in relationship with God.) There is not a competition between us for 'space' (if we and God were related competitively it would be an either/or between us and God.) This is to say, proximity to God does not diminish us, neither does it obliterate and replace. Proximity to God brings our fulfillment. Thus Jesus, as the incarnation of God, is not an incoherence, but the fullest epiphany of this general Christian theological insight into the God-world relationship. Humanity and divinity are united in Jesus without diminishment of either. (Two natures, one person)

A few cautions pulled from K. Tanner, Jesus, Humanity and the Trinity. A brief Systematic Theology, pp. 6-7.

• Incarnation can't be deduced from the general principle of transcendence understood in terms of a non-competitive God. it is only in the light of the revelation of Christ that the general has become visible.
  
  
• The doctrine of the Incarnation is not merely an extrapolation of the general principle of transcendence.
  
  
• Christology is not about the general principle of transcendence. Christology is about Jesus and salvation through him.

... the case of Christ has its own irreducible distinctiveness. It is not an instance of a general relationship found everywhere; it is not the highest point on a continuous grade of relationships between God and the world. While what happens in Christ may be the center of a theological account of the universe from its beginning to its end, it is not such by being simply repeated elsewhere. (Tanner, Jesus, p. 7.)

Scripture, Inspiration and Tradition

I suggest that a theory of scripture, biblical inspiration and canon should take into account the following six points:

1. The Christian movement predates the Bible. Christians had to write our NT documents, and and‘the church’ chooses the documents to be included in the Scriptures.
   
   
2. Key doctrines communicated to through the ecumenical councils are integral to the Christian reading of Scripture. The heretics used Scripture, and apparently quite successfully. And in the christological debates, a key term that separated orthodoxy from heterodoxy was 'homoousios' (same being, in relation to the Father and the Son), which is not a word used in Scripture in that context.
   
   
3. We receive the Bible from those previously in the faith, and it does not come fresh to us but accompanied by interpretive clues, rules, teaching, etc.
   
   
4. We interpret Scripture, and we encourage translations (and all translations are in some way interpretive), and consider Jesus to be the Word.
   
   
5. Without the Bible the faith would have been lost long ago.
   
   
6. Without the continuing inspiration of the Spirit the faith is lost. (Even if we still had the Bible. The Scriptures are, in this respect, insufficient.)

Some key issues arising from these six points are:

• The relationship between inspired community (Church) and inspired text. And I mean this pre- and post-Bible.
  
  
• The relationship between Scripture, Creeds, and Church.
  
  
• The crucial place of the Bible in the transmission of the faith.
  
  
• The relationship between the 'Word of God' and 'God's word written'.
  
  
• The sufficiency and insufficiency of the Bible.

Living Tradition

A Sydney (Anglican) trained evangelical (now a bishop) said, in response to me talking about 'the tradition', "How can you believe in something that changes?" I took it to mean he was contrasting scripture with 'the tradition' minus the scriptures. A couple of clarifying points:

• Without the tradition it is impossible to correctly understand the Scriptures. Tradition came before Scripture. (St Paul hands on to the Corinthians what he himself was taught. See 1Cor 11.) Remember, heretics were/are always adept at scriptural 'proofs'.
  
• The Scriptures are only one strand (utterly unique, authoritative and irreplaceable) of the rope that maintains apostolic succession. (More on this later.)
• The tradition changes so that the tradition lives for each age. Traditions that don't change die out. The hard part is being faithful to the tradition without betraying it; but when we do we are part of the living Christian tradition.
  

A good quote on tradition from Yoder to be found at Inhabitatio Dei.

The Resurrection of Jesus as Future Event

If tonight you heard the newsreader announce that peace reigned throughout the world you would be sceptical. If the newsreader said there was a new conflict in such-a-such country, perhaps not suspicious at all. Why? Because of precedent, or expectation based on experience. This is part of the reason why people struggle to believe in the resurrection of Jesus. Their experience suggests that the resurrection of Jesus is unlikely. It does not fit their view of the world, and is without a validating precedent. (Which is also why some wish to discover precursors to the church's proclamation of the resurrection of Jesus in other religions of antiquity. A precedent is then provided, although not for the resurrection. Rather, these 'precedents' are then used as evidence to deny the uniqueness and truth of the resurrection of Jesus.)

The gospel says that the resurrection of Jesus is a unique event, without precedent in history. The resurrection of Jesus is not to be justified by historical precedent, as though it (the resurrection) needs to be ordered to the past to gain credibility. Rather, it is the other way round. In the Christian scheme of things history is to be ordered to the resurrected Jesus. (This is part of the theological meaning of "Jesus as judge".) The reason is that the resurrection of Jesus is not a past historical event to be judged by the canons of historical research. (The life and death of Jesus, and the preaching by the church of the resurrected Jesus can be so investigated, but the resurrection itself is opaque to the usual processes of historical analysis.) The resurrection of Jesus is the future (come to meet us), not one event among many stuck in the past. The resurrection of Jesus is God's action in breaking us out of the cul-de-sac of history as we have come to experience it. Which is exactly why faith in the resurrected Christ is liberating.

The Coherence of Christian Belief

God does not give on the same plane of being and activity as creatures, as one among others and therefore God is not in potential competition (or co-operation) with them. Non-competitiveness among creatures - their co-operation on the same plane of causality - always brings with it the potential for competition: Since I perform part of what needs to be done and you perform the rest, to the extent I act, you need not; and the more I act, the less you need to. Even when we co-operate, therefore, our actions involve a kind of competitive either/or of scope and extent. Unlike this co-operation among creatures, relations with God are utterly non-competitive because God, from beyond this plane of created reality, brings about the whole plane of creaturely being and activity in its goodness. (Kathryn Tanner, Jesus, Humanity and the Trinity, pp. 3-4.)

God is not one (super) being among others. God is not defined as God over against us. (I am not you, and that is part of what makes me me. But not so with God and me.) God is not even just beyond us, not merely incomprehensible, if we conceive of these terms to mean that God is on the same background as us. (As Phillip said to me recently. Actually, yesterday!). Contrary to this, God is transcendent. This means that, as Phillip says, God is not in competition with us (or in cooperation with us for that matter). This is one facet (perhaps the central one) of the uniquely Christian doctrine of God and is a reason why the Genesis creation stories are not to be considered as merely one more example of the generic creation myth of antiquity. The transcendence of God means that God can providentially undergird all that is without in any way compromising creation's own being. God can become fully human in Jesus and remain God without the diminution of either humanity or divinity. God's grace operates and saves us entirely without any contribution from us, yet this in no way diminishes the importance of our response. The sacraments of the church convey an inward grace without diminishing in any way the nature of the 'stuff' of the sacrament. Which is all to say that God is love, and free to love us, without compulsion or need, or due to any kind of mutual self-definition-through-difference, but does this as a total act of absolute love.

It is this fundamental theological insight that prevents Christian belief from spiralling off into incoherence.

Unless the Christian sense of the divine is differentiated from anything and everything in the being of the world, unless the Chrsitian God is differentiated from what philosophers have called the whole, all the Christian mysteries cease to be mysteries. Either they become impossibilities, or they become accommodated to natural necessities, or they are made to compete with what is natural … The Christian distinction between God and the world allows the formulations of the other mysteries to say something and prevents them from shattering as statements. (Robert Sokolowski, The God of Faith and Reason: Foundations of Christian Theology, p. 38)

Further Thoughts on Transcendence

A guest post from the Revd Dr Phillip Tolliday, lecturer in historical and systematic theology at Flinders University SA and St Barnabas College.

I want to explore further the connection Warren made earlier between transcendence and immanence. There is little doubt that to use a phrase first coined by the post liberal theologian William Placher, we have been witnessing the ‘domestication of transcendence.’ Since at least the 1960s the motif of divine transcendence has been steadily eroding. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which has been the suspicion that a transcendent god is not only a god who is removed and distant from us, but more worryingly, a God whose disposition toward the world is necessarily one of tyranny. The way of overcoming this alleged divine tyranny is to ensure that divine transcendence is subverted by divine immanence.

The problem is alleged to be that divine transcendence necessarily leads to belief in a domineering supreme being. Not surprisingly, as Craig Baron, among others, has pointed out, this leads people to wonder how the existence of such a supreme being is reconcilable with human flourishing. God and humanity appear locked in a competitive death struggle. In attempts to dissolve the dilemma various ‘solutions’ have been proposed, ranging from Deism through to the outright atheism of Feuerbach. It is against this background that we should interpret Sartre’s aphorism that we cannot be fully free as long as God exists. According to this competitive construction of divine transcendence a key project of modernity has consisted of the solving of the problem of this competitive supreme being, either through its marginalization or its elimination.

In our scenario the two protagonists circle each other constantly; one the supreme being and the other the supreme ego. As in the best westerns there isn’t room in town for both of them! One has to die. And the story of modernity may be characterized as the progressive erosion of the supreme being in favour of the equally progressive exultation of the supreme ego. Commencing with Descartes’ Cogito the supreme ego eventually morphs into ‘the self-grounding and self-justifying ego’ that seeks to master its world. However, our less than perfect world is eloquent and manifest testimony to the limitations of the supreme ego. The supreme ego, it seems, is no less tyrannical than the supreme being was alleged to be.

Could it be that competition is the problem here? Might it not be possible to speak of divine transcendence in a way that is non-contrastive (Kathryn Tanner) and thus non-competitive? This is precisely what Craig Baron attempts in his exploration of Thomas Aquinas’ thoughts about God. He notes that competition demands that there be a shared background for both the supreme being and the supreme ego. It doesn’t matter whether that background is the metaphysical equivalent of the boxing ring or the OK Corral – it simply matters that there is one. And the background that has been commonly assumed to be shared by both God and the world is being.

But it is this very notion of a shared background between God and the world, or between a supreme being and a supreme ego that Aquinas calls into question. Aquinas claims that ‘God is not a species or an individual, nor is there any difference in him; nor can he be defined, since every definition is in terms of genus and species.’ Let us not miss the significance of what he is saying here. Everything in the world can be classified in precisely those terms that Aquinas says are not able to be predicated of God. In other words Aquinas is claiming that God is incomparable. God is not another in the world but transcendent to the world, where this transcendence is understood in a non-competitive and non-contrastive way. As Baron puts it, ‘God is not so much somewhere else as somehow else…the non-competitiveness of this differentiation appears when we realize that there is no common frame of reference for God and the world, no field that they share, no ground for which they are fighting, no genus in which they are both contained.’

Ironically our uncritical disdain for divine transcendence has had the unforeseen and presumably unintended consequence of aggregating the tyranny which we had feared from the supreme being and placing it at the feet of the supreme ego. Doubtless this is where it belongs but the domestication of transcendence has meant that the supreme ego must now fix the world - a task requiring, dare I say it, transcendence.

Simplicity on the Other Side of Complexity

There are three levels of theological knowledge. The first is the level of simplicity where a person possesses a certain basic level of knowledge. This is not to be derided, for it can be a good, solid understanding of some core theology. However, there is often a lack of critical awareness and an ignorance of the breadth of the Christian tradition.

The second level of theological knowledge is the level of complexity. This begins when people begin some serious study, often at a university degree level. At this level a critical awareness is fostered where the old certainties are questioned and the rich resources of the Christian tradition are encountered. Specific bundles of knowledge on particular topics of theology are acquired, but the person does not see in the complexity the unifying patterns and, ultimately, the beauty of the whole, a whole to which all individual bundles of knowledge must yield. Some people lose heart at this stage, nostalgically remembering the old certainties, but lacking the knowledge and perseverance to push through the sheer busyness and complexity of this stage to the third level of theological knowledge.

The third level of theological knowledge is a deep simplicity that is informed by the complexity of the Christian tradition and its challenges while maintaining a critical awareness. In and through the complexity and the questions that arise people are able to recognise and intuitively grasp the overall structure and meaning of the Christian faith. This does not mean that they know everything, but have learned to recognise the patterns of the Christian faith that make up the beauty of the whole. They are then able to use this intuitive grasp of the whole to explore new questions and apply the profound insights of the Christian faith to life.

The tradition from which I come (Anglican, in the middle, but on the catholic side) is good at all three levels. Despite the Anglican-turned-fundamentalist jibe that says while Anglican they learned nothing and knew nothing, and had to join the fundamentalists to become Christian, Anglicans are generally well grounded in a simple faith that carries them through life and beyond. And we are certainly good at the complexity stage, and have plenty of examples of those who have attained the third level of deep simplicity. Where we have failed is communicating the complexity, and most especially, the deep simplicity in a popular way and at the popular level. The fundamentalists are excellent at this popular level, although they don't have to worry about translating complexity or deep simplicity into a popular level! (What they have is simplistic, but they are very good at communicating it at a popular level.) We need to embrace the popular and communicate both the complexity and especially the deep simplicity, and encourage and develop people who can do so.