Ken Myers, of Mars Hill Audio, wrote this good and interesting review principally of a Wendell Berry article on economics and limits. Here's part of the into:
"For some time now, I have been growing in my understanding of how many cultural disorders are related to hatred of limits. The aspiration to limitlessness was embedded in the first temptation and the original sin, it informed the earliest docetic and Gnostic heresies, and it inspired the founding intellects of modernity. Many sincere Christians still have some sense that being limited is an effect of sin, rather than a condition of the Creation. Both Genesis accounts of Creation (in chapters 1 and 2) resound with the establishment of boundaries—in time, in space, in ontology, and in vocation. ...
"Almost all human cultures have pursued the task of defining and governing boundaries in human behavior. Philip Rieff argued (in The Triumph of the Therapeutic) that every culture survives "by the power of its institutions to bind and loose men in the conduct of their affairs with reasons which sink so deep into the self that they become commonly and implicitly understood." The story of modern Western culture, however—a culture built around the ideal of the sovereign self—is a story of the abandonment of restrictions and restraints in the name of human freedom. Our institutions have increasingly been defined in terms of encouraging liberation from limits rather than cultivating a conscientious honoring of limits.
"It was in light of this understanding that I read Wendell Berry's essay in the May issue of Harper's with great appreciation. In "Faustian Economics," (subtitled "Hell Hath No Limits"), Berry argues that "we have founded our present society upon delusional assumptions of limitlessness," (the rest of the review)
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
silence & the fire of love
"When the door of the steambath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says may be good. Thereafter the intellect, though lacking appropriate ideas, pours out a welter of confused thoughts to anyone it meets, as it no longer has the Holy Spirit to keep its understanding free from fantasy. Ideas of value always shun verbosity, being foreign to confusion and fantasy. Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wisest thoughts."”
(Diadochus of Photiki)
(Diadochus of Photiki)
Thursday, April 16, 2009
wearing the belt of truth
Wearing the Belt of Truth, as an offensive weapon
This comment follows on my recent post regarding our words being productive, and not careless...
I have been reading Powers, Weakness, and the Tabernacling of God by Marva Dawn. I've had the book for probably seven years (I bought it because of the "Tabernacling" part in the title, Jewish roots stuff, you know). It's excellent.
It's just four substantial chapters. Chapter One is entitled "The Principalities and Powers: Created, Fallen, and Then?" Chapter Two, "The Tabernacling of God and a Theology of Weakness." Chapter Three, "Churches Being, and Acting as, Fallen Powers."
One of the big concerns she addresses is stated there in the title of the third chapter - when churches are and/or act as fallen powers. This happens in many ways. For example, we misuse power when we make worship about catering to people's desires (and complaints), and not so much about the worship of almighty God and the preaching of Christ crucified and risen; when sermons and other public announcements or teachings are manipulative to get people to build up a little egocentric kingdom and not to drive them to Christ crucified and risen, and dependent in powerlessness on the power of the Holy Spirit... and when the church essentially cooperates with the powers of the world (eg. mammon & materialism in general, might makes right or right makes might right...).
This all comes out of a beautiful theology of weakness (hence some of my recent sermons) which, God willing, I will comment on soon here.
In the concluding chapter, "What, Then, Shall the Church Be? Images of Weakness," she counter-intuitively uses the armor of God as her organizing theme. Of course, the armor of God section there in Ephesians 6, calls us to be strong in the Lord and the strength of his might (not our own strength!). Secondly, she argues that we can consider all the armor from an offensive standpoint - not just the sword of the Spirit, as we have all generally considered them (myself included).
Truth: this first concerns our doctrine. Do we have good theology? She argues for "the theology of the cross" to be the principal message, and not "the theology of glory" (ie. that we can overcome suffering and struggle in the time of this present darkness...). The powers of the world seek to undermine truth and communicating truthfully and faithfully in a host of ways - some of which are very, very subtle. (I understand "The Truth Project," an apologetic teaching series, addresses some of these concerns.)
Wearing the belt truth will also include everything we do as a church, in decision making, in our relationships, in our calling and equipping others to help in this work of ministry. (Of course, it does not mean using truth coercively - to attack, demean, gossip, defend or make ourselves powerful). And it will include our posture corporately and individually toward the world, in our jobs, in raising our families.
Marva writes that her main point in this section "is that the Christian community is the place in which we practice 'truthing' with each other, so that our language and work and politics and relationships throughout life flow out of the same character and thereby cast out the workings of the powers that produce deception, manipulation, accusation, and other untruths in the world." (p. 137) She goes on, "Wearing the belt of truth as an offensive weapon will call us all, individually and corporately, as Thomas More declares in Robert Bold's play, A Man for All Seasons, to 'serve God wittily, in the tangle of our minds.'" (p. 138)
"It is crucial that we recognize the 'tangle,' for the 'truthings' of our life all hang together and influence each other, even as a small untruth leads to much larger consequences. Ephesians 6 lists truth first because its absence effects everything, but if the belt is used properly it can keep things together." (p. 138)
She concludes this section on the belt of truth, "Caring about truth in every dimension of the Church's life and of Christians' lives is a necessary foundation for the justice building, peacemaking, hospitality, and gospel proclaiming that we will discuss as we continue to consider what it might mean for us to wield God's panoply" (complete array of armor). (p. 138)
Monday, April 13, 2009
the myth of redemptive violence
I talked recently in a sermon about "the myth of redemptive violence." This idea is embedded in American culture, and in the world at large. If a person, or any entity, is considered good or righteous, then their use of violence or force is justified, and even "redemptive." We are bred with this from Popeye and the Road Runner, to Jack Bauer and Tony Almeida, to Tom Clancy's novels to "Righeous Kill" and "Kill Bill" to Clint Eastwood, and on and on.
While most of us do not use violence to advance our will or God's will, we do use power or force wrongly - whether through domination or intimidation, or through manipulation or deception. For example, any time we shade the truth, or share the truth inappropriately, in order to gain an advantage over someone, or to posture or protect ourself, we are abusing power and usually thinking we are justified in it. Jesus would have none of it, though he was the only truly good and righteous person. He became powerless and never used force or violence in order to advance his will or God's will. And this is the way he calls us to live. Probably more on this later.
Speaking of Clint Eastwood, a great depiction of the myth of redemptive violence is Gran Torino. Yes, it's rough, but I commend it to you. I saw it on my birthday a few weeks ago, and it was well worth it.
While most of us do not use violence to advance our will or God's will, we do use power or force wrongly - whether through domination or intimidation, or through manipulation or deception. For example, any time we shade the truth, or share the truth inappropriately, in order to gain an advantage over someone, or to posture or protect ourself, we are abusing power and usually thinking we are justified in it. Jesus would have none of it, though he was the only truly good and righteous person. He became powerless and never used force or violence in order to advance his will or God's will. And this is the way he calls us to live. Probably more on this later.
Speaking of Clint Eastwood, a great depiction of the myth of redemptive violence is Gran Torino. Yes, it's rough, but I commend it to you. I saw it on my birthday a few weeks ago, and it was well worth it.
A Collect for Easter
O God, who for our redemption gave your only-begotten Son to the death of the cross, and by his glorious resurrection delivered us from the power of our enemy: Grant us so to die daily to sin, that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his resurrection; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
"Careless" words
Last Tuesday evening in our study of the gospel of Matthew we were struck by Jesus' words to the Pharisees who were flinging words at him, attacking him verbally by accusing him of being demonically inspired and empowered:
"on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak" (ESV, Matthew 12:36).
That word, careless, is "argon" in the Greek, which is "ergon" (= "work") + the privative "a" (= absence, removal, or loss of quality or attribute normally present). So, while careless is a fine translation, the idea is bigger than just being kind of flighty or an unthinking chatterbox - it speaks of "unproductive" and "unfruitful" (cf. v. 33) words.
We agreed to pray for each other, to try to be mindful (careful) in our speaking. We reminded each other of the spiritual discipline of silence, and of guarding our hearts - for that's really where our words come from.
I go into that because this morning (Monday of Easter week) the appointed gospel is John 14:1-14, and I noted and was thinking about this verse, where Jesus is telling the disciples that he is in the Father and the Father is in him and so they have seen the Father and they know the way to the Father:
"The words the I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works." (John 14:10).
What an amazing thought. I think Jesus is saying that the words that he speaks are works of the Father. Those would not be "unproductive" or "unfruitful" or careless words!
Let it be so in us, Lord.
"O Lord, so dwell in us, you who live and reign in victory; so work in us, in our minds and in our wills, that we may speak only what you are working in and through us, for life, for wholeness, fruitful, productive work that will last forever in your kingdom."
"on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak" (ESV, Matthew 12:36).
That word, careless, is "argon" in the Greek, which is "ergon" (= "work") + the privative "a" (= absence, removal, or loss of quality or attribute normally present). So, while careless is a fine translation, the idea is bigger than just being kind of flighty or an unthinking chatterbox - it speaks of "unproductive" and "unfruitful" (cf. v. 33) words.
We agreed to pray for each other, to try to be mindful (careful) in our speaking. We reminded each other of the spiritual discipline of silence, and of guarding our hearts - for that's really where our words come from.
I go into that because this morning (Monday of Easter week) the appointed gospel is John 14:1-14, and I noted and was thinking about this verse, where Jesus is telling the disciples that he is in the Father and the Father is in him and so they have seen the Father and they know the way to the Father:
"The words the I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works." (John 14:10).
What an amazing thought. I think Jesus is saying that the words that he speaks are works of the Father. Those would not be "unproductive" or "unfruitful" or careless words!
Let it be so in us, Lord.
"O Lord, so dwell in us, you who live and reign in victory; so work in us, in our minds and in our wills, that we may speak only what you are working in and through us, for life, for wholeness, fruitful, productive work that will last forever in your kingdom."
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