Monthly Archives: March 2008 - Page 2

Recycle or go to Hell!

Apparently the Catholic Church has recently updated its list of mortal sins to include more specifically modern maladies.  It used to be that only pride, sloth, envy, wrath, et al would land you straight in hell at the point of death.  Now it turns out that “drug abuse, genetic manipulation, morally dubious experimentation, environmental pollution, social inequalities and social injustice, causing poverty and accumulating excessive wealth at the expense of the common good of society” will all earn you a one-way ticket to hell.  Now it seems that the pot-somking hippies and the rich consumerist socialites will be given the ultimate eternal punishment: life together forever.  A fearful prospect indeed.

Sergei Bulgakov Blog Conference

Dan and Aron at The Land of Unlikeness have recently announced yet another great looking addition to the repitroire of blog conferences starting up throughout the theoblogosphere.  In addition to the Barth, Balthasar (going on right now), and Bonhoeffer blog conferences that are upcoming, we can now also look forward to the first Sergei Bulgakov Blog Conference.  The conferences is tenatively scheduled for September of this year and there is plenty of room for more submissions and ideas.  Here is the current lineup of participants:

The Balthasar Blog Conference Begins!

 

 Just a note to let everyone know that as of today the first annual Balthasar Blog Conference, hosted by David at the Fire and the Rose has begun.  The first post, by Lois M. Miles is up which analyzes the relationship between Balthasar and Adrienne von Speyer’s work on Scripture.  Yours truly is actually the respondent for this post, and it should be up soon, so stay tuned.  This post and the forthcoming posts will all make for worthy reading.  Head on over and engage!

Does Sola Scriptura Work?

I wonder if some day someone will write a complete history of all the ways in which Protestantism has defined Sola Scriptura.  If so, I imagine it would be quite a thick book, if not a multivolume set. 

It seems to me that coming up with a theologically viable definition of Sola Scriptura is pretty high on a lot of Protestant theologians’ priority list.  Kevin Vanhoozer’s excellent work, The Drama of Doctrine is a good example of the ongoing “quest for a viable version of the Scripture principle.”  The question to my mind is whether or not such quests are nothing more than a sort of conservative evangelical attempt at damage control.  A desperate need to make something particularly Protestant theologically interesting.  (Sola Scriptura is one of about three theological ideas unique to Protestantism.  I forget the other two.)  In other words I often wonder if Sola Scriptura is simply being used as some sort of scalpel with which evangelicals are trying desperately to carve out some sort of distinctive identity that is theologically interesting and recognizably consistent with historic Christianity.  For the most part I think these attempts are failing, probably due to the fact that Sola Scriptura was never designed to do the heavy lifting that evangelicals wish it could do.

All of this is beside the point.  And that point is simply this, as far as evangelicals as a whole are concerned, Sola Scriptura has become little more than a cipher for a reactive mentality which says “If it isn’t in the Bible, it can’t be true.”  Put more eloquently, some would state this by saying that all theological doctrines must be derived from what is taught in the Bible.  Of course, one doctrine that clearly is not taught in the Bible is that the Bible alone should be the source of theological doctrines.  Which a great many pop Catholic apologists like to shout at their fundamentalist alter-egos only to be shouted down in return.  All in all the conversation isn’t interesting.

But the point remains, the idea that all doctrine must be derived only from the Bible is not a biblical doctrine at all.  The problem as I see it is that modern evangelicals, desperate for some sort of epistemological certitude, and terrified of any sort of actual embodied authority like the Catholic Magisterium ascribe to Sola Scriptura the status of a theory of authority in the church.  However, Sola Scriptura, if it is to avoid being self-referentially false must be understood, not a formalistic theory of authority, but rather as a way of specifying the authoritative hermenutical core of the tradition as a whole.  The only viable understanding of Sola Scriptura that I can envision is one in which Scripture is rightly seen as situated in the fullness of the apostolic and patristic tradition of the church.  Only within that context can it be viewed as Scripture and as an authority to which we must answer.  If any version of Sola Scriptura is to have any theological integrity whatsoever, it must acknowledge that Scripture is one witness to God among others that needs the communal context of the church to be interpreted.  The other side of this is that while Scripture is but one voice in the chorus of witnesses to God, it’s voice has been recognized by the church as having final authority in our attempts to follow Christ.

Of course, many will be quick to point out that this isn’t a coherent theory of authority.  If Scripture is as vulnerable as this account makes it out to be, how can we have certitude that our claims of faith are true and accurate?  The simple answer is that we can’t.  The quest for the kind of theory of authority that so many evangelicals seek through their tired, parenetic rhapsodies  about Sola Scriptura (and, ironically enough, often end up thinking they’ll find in Roman Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy) is a Quixotic quest for a Holy Grail we shouldn’t even care to own.  Faith is inherently risky and vulnerable or it is no faith worthy of the name of Jesus.  A formalized book of allegedly inerrant truths or an allegedly infallible Magisterium both tend to function as an attempt to avoid having to make the distinctively foolish claims of faith.  They embody the longings for security, control, and that great smarmy sense of just knowing you’re right that we all want so desperately.  However, Jesus does not allow us such contrived (and fictional!) certitudes.  He allows us only himself.  And he stays beyond us, eluding our attempts to domesticate and control him and his Gospel.  He as left his reliable witnesses, in whom we can have proper confidence.  But to confuse the assurance of faith with the pathological need for epistemic certitude is to make a great theological mistake.  I hope the evangelical church can learn to un-make this mistake.

My favorite Patristic theologians

Since lists are always cool, and since patristic theology doesn’t get that much of a fair shake in the blogosphere, here are my five favorite patristic theologians.

  1. Irenaeus
  2. Augustine
  3. Gregory of Nazianzus
  4. Maximus the Confessor
  5. Athanasius

Of course, its a bit embarrassing to list patristic theologians when I think of how much more I’ve read in modern theology.  Perhaps that is why so much theology is so utterly boring these days and why books that drink deeply from patristic wells, like Hart’s The Beauty of the Infinite make such a stir when they are published. 

To Fathers, I say!  For the sake of theology’s interstingness, to the Fathers (and Mothers)!

My favorite modern Catholic theologians

These are the modern Catholic theologians that I most enjoy reading, not necessarily the ones I think are the most important, influential, etc.

  1. Herbert McCabe
  2. Hans Urs von Balthasar
  3. Johann Baptist Metz
  4. Henri de Lubac
  5. Joseph Ratzinger

Other rankings or choices?

“Be Filled with the Holy Spirit…”

Aside from pentecostal and charismatic Christians, I think that most of us don’t really know what is meant when we hear the Scriptures talking about being “full of the Spirit”, let alone know how to respond to exhortations to “be filled with the Spirit” (e.g. Eph. 5:18).  Of course, for charismatic types, the meaning of being “full of the Spirit” is pretty thin as well.  Usually it just means manifesting certain supernatural “gifts” of the Spirit.

However, the exhortation to be filled with the Spirit is actually pregnant with some pretty significant theological content.  While the role of the Spirit within the Trinity has always been a somewhat sticky point of Trinitarian doctrine, the tradition as a whole is more or less unified in claiming that the Spirit is in some way the agent, the mediator, or the actualization of the eternal relationship of love between the Father and Son.  There are, of course many different ways of expressing this basic truth.  Augustine spoke of the Spirit as the “bond of love” between the Father and Son.  Whereas for Richard of St. Victor, and many of the Eastern Fathers, the idea was more tied to the Spirit as the personal mediator of the relationship between the Father and Son.  These differences should not be brushed over, but the point I wish to make here is that there is substantial unity within the tradition that the role of the Spirit in the Trinity must be understood in some sense as the bringing about of the eternal communio of the Father and Son.  Whatever else we may say, we must say that the Father and Son love one another in the Spirit. 

So, if we understand the person of the Spirit to be constituted by the eternal Trinitarian mission of actualizing and mediating the Father-Son relationship, what might it mean for us to contemplate Scripture’s exhortation to be filled with the Spirit?  If we take the immanent Trinitarian mission of the Spirit as constitutive of his economic mission in the theo-drama of salvation (or, more radically, if we identify the two, as I would), then it would seem that to be filled with the Spirit means to be caught up into the relationship of the Son to the Father.  Being filled with the Spirit means to be brought into a relationship of sonship with the Father which participates in Christ’s own relationship to the Father.  Being filled with the Spirit means, first and foremost to be drawn in a Christoform manner towards the Father.  Being Spirit-filled is being embedded in the love of the Father with and in Christ.

Interestingly enough, this means that being full of the Spirit directs us not to the Spirit but to the Father.  Be being full of the Spirit we are given, in grace, a share in the Son’s relationship to the Father, we are drawn into the Father’s embrace which unifies all things in koinonial love.  So, what could the command to be filled with the Spirit then mean for us?  It must mean nothing less than giving ourselves over to the cruciform shape of divine action in our world, accepting Christ’s cross and grave-shaped way of being in obedience to the Father, even to the point of death.  Being filled with the Spirit means nothing less than living a life in which the Son’s utter obedience to the Father becomes our own telos and life-form.  To be filled with the Spirit is to obey the Father, to be loved by the Father, and to be forever vivified by the Father’s joy in his Son, which raises the dead and calls things into existence which did not exist.

More McCabe on the Trinity

“The cross and resurrection are the eternal dialogue of Father and Son as projected on to the screen of history, what it looks like in history.  If you want to know what the Trinity looks like be filled with the Holy Spirit and look at the cross.  The Trinity, when reflected in our history, like something reflected in rippling water, looks pretty strange, just as the human being in our history looks strange, being despised and crucified: Ecce homo.

”Herbert McCabe, God Matters (New York: Continuum, 2005), 100.

Speaking of McCabe

Now that Ben has finally been convinced to read Herbert McCabe, it is great to find out that there is yet another posthumous work of his coming out in the States in May.  Readers of McCabe will be delighted that his On Aquinas will soon be available, complete with a foreword by Anthony Kenny.  In all honesty, without McCabe I don’t think I would have ever come to think of Aquinas as even remotely interesting.  I am quite excited for this new volume and you can be sure it’s already preordered!

an(Other) Blog

My friend, Eric has recently decided to join the blogosphere.  His appropriately titled an(Other) Blog deals largely with issues of ontology and otherness.  Recent posts have dealt with Emmanual Levinas and Charles Taylor.  There is also a fascinating film clip of Slavoj Žižek discussing ideology and different varieties of the toilet.  I hope folks will head over and keep tabs on what is sure to be a great addition to the blogosphere.

Rigorism versus Radicalism

In The Emergent Church, Johann Baptist Metz contrasts two ecclesial responses to the church’s marginalization in modern Western culture.  He notes that many in the Catholic church respond to the decadence of bourgeois religion by insisting rigorously on certain points of Christian morality such as the prohibition of divorce and compulsory clerical celibacy as examples of this.  While not arguing against the church’s moral tradition as such, Metz does state that rigorism of the church does not call forth an alternative way of life that truly has the capacity to challenge bourgeois society at the level of social and political life.  He also notes the distinctive role played by money within the “rigorous” version of bourgeois religion.  It functions as a “binding symbol” and indeed as the form of “mediation between the Christian virtues”.  What this means is that the “public virtues” related to dealing with societal suffering are mediated almost exclusively by money.  On the model of moral rigorism the church’s moral task in the political realm is almost exclusively reduced to “a process of the mere giving of money.”

In contrast, Metz argues that the proper posture of the church in bourgeois society is one of radicalism.  What this means for him involves challenging the norms of society through “the all-embracing strategy of love to attack the dominant principles of exchange and barter as these spread insidiously into the psychic foundations of societal life, and overcoming the reification of interpersonal relations and their increasing interchangeability and transitoriness, the church is then radical without necessarily having to be rigorous in the legal sense.”  Likewise, here giving money cannot be the center of the Christian political ethic.  Rather the radical position insists on the tangibility of Christian love taking shape in actual relationships, rather than simply through various and sundry programs at which money can be thrown.

Metz sums up the contrast he seas as follows: “Rigorism springs more from fear, radicalism from freedom, the freedom of Christ’s call.” 

The Servant of God §1: Redemptor Hominis

In his first papal encyclical, Pope John Paul II offers a profound theological reflection on the situation of the modern world in light of the reality of the redemption of the world in Christ.  Articulating themes that will define his papacy, Redemptor Hominis provides a great starting point for those attempting to understand the theology of John Paull II.  The key themes that emerge in this encyclical are first, an overwhelmingly Christocentric focus.  Throughout the encyclical, John Paul II emphasizes repeatedly the centrality of the redemption of humanity solely in and through Christ.  “Jesus Christ is the center of the universe and of history” and as such is the center of all of the Pope’s reflections of the ailments of modern life (par. 1). 

Secondly, a key theme of the encyclical is the Pope’s commitment to a personalist philosophy.  The uniqueness and inherent dignity of each individual is a central commitment that defines and shapes all of the theological thought of the late Pontiff.  The third key theme that emerges from this encyclical is the way in which it culminates in a vision of the Marian and Eucharistic church.  The practice of the Eucharist is the “center and summit of the whole sacramental life” (par. 20) from which flows the fullness of our experience of the church’s reality in union with Christ.  Likewise, the church must understand itself in light of the Mother of the Lord who embodies the form of the church whose receptive, maternal love lives in response to the active love of the Father who redeems the world through the Son (par. 22).

The first section of the encyclical is in large part a homage to the inheritance of John Paul II.  Herein he takes great pains to express his indebtedness to his predecessors Pope John XXIII and Pope Paul VI, both of whom he draws his name from, seeking to extend their legacy through his own papacy.  It should not escape notice that it was Pope John XXIII who was in many ways the unexpected architect of Vatican II, calling for the renewal of the church in a profound and (to many) surprising way.  Pope John Paul II, in taking his name from these two predecessors, illustrates clearly the nature of his pontificate as a whole: a rejection of self-focus and the desire to make a name for himself or create a legacy for himself, but rather a posture of humble service to the church, its tradition, and history.

The second section of the encyclical is focused on “the mystery of redemption.”  Here Pope John Paul II expounds an utterly Christocentric theology of salvation with a view toward showing how the Christian gospel speaks to the particular problems of the modern age.  The Christological starting point here is quite important.  It marks the basic orientation of the Pope’s theology throughout his life, and is quite consonant with the ethos of the Catholic tradition as a whole.  For John Paul II, the first word must always be Christ, “Our spirit is set in one direction, the only direction for our intellect, will and heart is towards Christ, the Redeemer of man.  We wish to look towards him because there is salvation in no one else but him, the Son of God” (par. 7). 

The Pope goes on to expound the nature of the redemption that was achieved in Christ.  Here, striking a distinctive note (indeed, one that sounds much like the theology of Thomas Torrance, and the Scottish Reformed tradition as a whole), John Paul II articulated that “by his Incarnation, he, the Son of God, in a certain way united himself with each man” (par. 9).  In Christ’s act of incarnation, God unites each and every person with himself in their concrete uniqueness as persons.  This is the basis of John Paul II’s soteriology, that humankind cannot live without being united to the God who is love.  “Man cannot live without love.  He remains a being that is incomprehensible for himself, his life is senseless, if love is not revealed to him, if he does not encounter love, if he does not experience it and make it his own, if he does not participate intimately in it” (par. 10).

It is this insistence on God’s act of uniting himself with each unique person that theological grounds the Pope’s commitment to the philosophy of personalism.  Because God, in Christ has united himself to every person, every person has indissoluble dignity and significance.  It is this conviction of the dignity of each person that grounds the Pope’s commitment to the church’s missionary task.  “the missionary attitude always begins with a feeling of deep esteem for ‘what is in man’, for what man has himself worked out in the depths of his spirit concerning the most profound and important problems” (par. 12).  It is this Christocentric orientation focused on the dignity of the individual and the church’s missional imperative that ground the Pope’s discussion of the church’s relationship to the modern world.

In moving into his third section, discussing the specific problems of modern life in depth, the Pope again underscores his Christological theme of Christ uniting himself with each person.  As he sounds that note, Pope John Paul II moves into his discussion of what precisely is the fear of modern humanity.  He notes the fundamental feature of alienation in modern life, particularly alienation between the worker who produces and the things produced which seem to continually become an object of threat.   It is the things that we, the human community created and produce that seem to be the biggest threat to human flourishing in the world.  The Pope notes that this state of fear breeds a culture of ”immediate use and consumption” which, coupled with “the ascendancy of technology” yields a way of life that is distinctly predatory on human dignity and relationships.

The Pope goes on to indict the modern world on the basis of how it separates and alienates humankind.  He insists that “the consumer civilization, which consists in a certain surplus of goods necessary for man and for entire societies” is fundamentally wrong in that it is based on the suffering of great sectors of humanity who “are suffering from hunger, with many people dying each day of starvation and malnutrition” (par. 16).  His call to the church, then is to a “principle of solidarity” by which the Pope means a thoroughgoing  commitment to the “transformation of the structures of economic life” (par. 16).

The Pope insists that “it is possible to undertake this duty”, that it is not a hopeless task for the church to attempt the transformation of the world in and through Christ.  He also insists that any such social transformation will be impossible “without the intervention of a true conversion of mind, will, and heart.”  The Pope also notes that the weapons that the church has at its disposal are the purely nonviolence weapons of love.  Making one of the most moving appeals in the encyclical, John Paul II argues that the church “has no weapons at her disposal apart from those of the spirit, of the word and of love” and thus “for this reason she does not cease to implore each side of the two [likely referring to the capitalist West and Communist Russia] and beg everybody in the name of God and the name of man.  Do not kill!  do not prepare for the destruction and extermination of men!  Think of your brothers and sisters who are suffering hunger and misery!  Respect each other’s dignity and freedom!” (par. 16). 

The fourth and final section of the encyclical brings the discussion to a close by focusing on the mystery of the church and her sacramental life as the summit of human life.  The God who unites himself with every persons calls every person into the unity of faith in one Eucharistic body.  Indeed, it is in the Eucharist that the height of the divine mystery of God in union with humanity is realized.  “The Eucharist is the centre and summit of the whole sacramental life, through which each Christian receives the saving power of the Redemption” (par. 20).  The Pope is also careful to underscore the close connection between the Eucharist and Penance.  “The Christ who  calls to the Eucharistic banquet is always the same Christ who exhorts us to penance and repeats his “Repent” (par. 20).  Striking a note that will be particularly appealing to Protestants, John Paul II insists that “We cannot, however forget that conversion is a particularly profound inward act in which the individual cannot be replaced by others and cannot make the community a substitute for him” (par. 20).  The mystery redemption reaches its summit in the Eucharist, but rightful participation in Christ’s redemption involves every person in their own concrete, irreplaceable uniqueness. 

The final paragraph of the encyclical focuses on the Mother of the Lord as the exemplar and archetype of the church, and indeed, the embodiment of the maternal love that the modern world stands so desperately in need of.  “the Church always, and particularly at our time, has need of a Mother” (par. 22) as the Pope says.  The Marian “fiat” embodies the way in which Christians are called to respond to the work of God in the world, simply saying “yes” to his redemption in Christ.  It is this mindset of active anticipation in receptive passivity which Pope John Paul II calls the church to take up in his prayer for “humanity’s new Advent.”  The encyclical ends, rightly with the invocation of the Holy Spirit whose vivifying presence mediates the redemption of Christ to the world in the formation of the Mystical Body of Christ (par. 22).

The Role of Hauerwas in Contemporary Theology

Nearly everyone who’s interested in contemporary theology has heard of Stanley Hauerwas.  Indeed out of all contemporary theological figures he may be the one who today its hardest to have not heard of or read.  One way or another everyone has to deal with Hauerwas.  Whether you’re Jeffrey Stout, Jean Bethke Elshtain, Robert Jenson, Stephen Webb or whoever, if you’re writing on ethics, politics, or anything pertaining to the Christian use of force, you simply have to deal with Hauerwas.

However, the flip side of this is that it also seems somewhat fashionable in contemporary theology to not take Hauerwas seriously.  A great many theologians seem to take joy in deriding him as little more than a cantankerous bastard with a squeaky voice who is better laughed at then engaged.  Now, to my mind both of these dynamics in contemporary theological discourse only point to Stanley’s importance as a theologian.  If, on the one hand a great many people find him an indispensable interlocutor and a comparable number of other folks consider him simply someone to ridicule away, it would seem a reasonable conclusion that whatever Stanley’s got to say it is either vitally important or vitally dangerous.

So this brings me to my question, what is the role of Stanley Hauerwas in contemporary theology?  What position does he, or should he occupy in the cartography of doing theology today?  What do people think?

Balthasar: Being Seized by Beauty

“Both the person who is transported by natural beauty and the one snatched up by the beauty of Christ must appear to the world to be fools, and the world will attempt to explain their state in terms of psychological or even physiological laws (Acts 2.13).  But they know what they have seen, and they care not one farthing what people may say.  They suffer because of their love, and it it is only the fact that they have been inflamed by the most sublime of beauties — a beauty crowned with thorns and crucified — that justifies their sharing in that suffering.”

–Hans Urs von Balthasar, The Glory of the Lord: A Theological Aesthetics, Volume I: Seeing the Form (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1982), 33.

Ratzinger on Final Union

“I am convinced that the question of the final union of all Christians remains, indeed, unanswerable. One must not forget that this question also includes the question of the union between Israel and the church. At any rate, to me the notion that one could achieve unity through a “really general (ecumenical) council” is a hybrid idea. That would be tantamount to building another tower of Babel which would necessarily result in even greater confusion. Complete union of all Christians will hardly be possible in our time. However, that unity of the church which already exists indestructibly is a guarantee for us that this greater unity will happen in the future. The more one strives for this unity with all one’s might the more Christian one will be.”

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, “Luther and the Unity of the Churches: An Interview with Jospeh Cardinal Ratzinger“, Communio 11, no. 3 (1984): 226.

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