Monthly Archives: July 2008

A Lament for First Things

I should admit at the outset, I’ve never been a fan of First Things. As far as literary-theological magazines on political issues go, I’ve always found Commonweal to be far more stimulating, and, well Christian. But, there was a time when, even if I pretty much always disagreed with Neuhaus’s “The Public Square” and most of the other political pieces in First Things, I could still find much to appreciate therein. There were substantive articles and exchanges with erudite theological reflection and debate. First Things even used to be something of a forum within which Christian scholars and activists could meaningfully disagree and argue with one another in print. Even Stanley Hauerwas had a seat at the table with Neuhaus and his neocon crowd at that time.

No longer. Over the last couple years First Things has made clear that it is no longer a literary entity capable of providing critical distance, balance, or bipartisanship in any meaningful sense of the word. First Things has jumped gleefully into bed with unabashed neoconservatism and American exceptionalism without any inhibition whatsoever. First Things now features articles by the pseudonymous “Spengler“, a regular writer for Asian Times Online, whose blatant racism and idolatrous theology of American exceptionalism should not be allowed to see the light of day in any reputable publication. The dregs of First Things these days offers little that deviates from calls for constitutional amendments banning gay marriage, anti-abortion polemics, and even tired apologias for the war in Iraq (which as William Cavanaugh has handily pointed out simply puts Neuhaus, Novak, Weigel, and their ilk at odds with the Pope).

Most recently, it seems that everyone at First Things has felt a desperate need to trash N.T. Wright over his opposition to Iraq war, insisting that a bishop such as he is unqualified to engage in “speaking out on international affairs, the war against jihadism, and Iraq.” (A post written by Peter Wehner,  Bush’s speechwriter up through 2007, by the way.)

I fear that First Things has taken its place alongside all the other conservative rags out there and, as such, has confined itself to a position of total irrelevance, pedantic jingosim, and, from a theological perspective, nationalistic idolatry. First Things has decided that it is better to grow fat off of our culture of barbarism than to confront it prophetically (unless, of course the issue happens to be homosexuality or abortion). They live now only in the time called America; Messianic time can, for them, do nothing other than serve America’s imperial ends. This I consider a sad thing indeed. While neocons nationwide may rejoice that First Things can now take its place as their bathroom reading alongside The Weekly Standard and American Vision, I can do nothing more than try to figure out a way to get the bad taste out of my mouth. You could have been more, First Things. Alas.

The Aesthetics of the Apocalypse

Lately there have been some good discussions on the nature of New Testament apocalyptic and how such an apocalyptic orientation should inform Christian theology. One of the points of tension involves the propensity of apocalyptic language to become merely a discourse of rupture and irruption, of pure negation rather than as the moment of God’s No being uttered within the overarching melodies of God’s Yes. Perhaps one way to address this potential problematic is to redefine the locus of the conversation. Too often these discussions about the apocalyptic nature of the Messianic events of resurrection and Pentecost end up becoming discussions about sin, nature, and grace. How deeply has sin affected creation? Does grace destroy and recreate nature, or does grace perfect nature, merely purging it of the privation of sin? These questions make for interesting discussion, which must continue to be pursued, but they also rarely have much resolution, even between people who are clearly both searching for a way to express their fundamental affinity within their theological-linguistic disagreements.

Here I would like to offer a suggestion for another way of discussing the matter. Instead of trying to figure out how thoroughly sin has pervaded creation and thus how deep of an apocalypse we need to address the problem, I submit that we should instead be thinking primarily of how to best describe the apocalyptic visions of divine glory, and the attending doxology that it evokes from the people of God. Thus, our talk about the divine apocalypse should be formulated more in terms of the irreducible radiance of the trinitarian glory, of God’s inexhaustible beauty, which is unveiled in Christ (getting back to the etymology of apocalypse). In other words, what we need is to avoid some sort of anthropocentric way of deploying the language of apocalypse in which we become fixated on the way in which nature as we know it is ruptured by God in Christ. Our focus must not be on the rupture in itself, but rather on the infinite koinonial and doxological plenitude that is unleashed through what we experience as the rupture of God’s trinitarian invasion of the world in Christ and the Spirit.

This would not be to back off from the radicality of the language of apocalypse, but to simply be more biblical and to give proper credence the Johannine along with the Pauline. The most explicitly apocalyptic texts of the New Testament seem to be intentionally directing our attention away from the catastrophic collision of the powers of evil with the infinite love of the triune God, aligning our vision instead simply towards the visio dei itself. Here there is a helpful connection to the work of David Bentley Hart, who as it turns out, may be an apocalyptic theologian of sorts himself. His vision of the infinite beauty of the triune God who frees us from the “veil of the sublime” is precisely what we see in the un-veiling that takes place in what we talk about as the divine apocalypse. The subliminity of a broken creation gives way to the inexhaustible beauty of the trinitarian luminescence of divine love. Thus, in beholding God’s apocalypse in Christ and the Spirit, our vision does not, indeed cannot, ultimately focus on the cataclysmic battle between Christ and Antichrist, between life and death. Rather, our eyes are constantly drawn away from the penultimate battle towards the truly compelling visage of trinitarian beauty. Ultimately our eyes can only focus on the enveloping, inexhaustible, unsurpassable glory of the triune God. The divine apocalypse, in which the forces of Antichrist, Babylon, and Satan assail the Lamb and his people must ultimately and at every point direct our vision toward beholding the glory of the throne of God and of the Lamb. The battle between Christ and Antichrist occurs as but a moment in the eschatological symphony of Alpha and Omega. The battle of the Logos (Balthasar) is ultimately only seen as the the prelude to great transformation: death is swallowed up in victory (1 Cor 15:54 cf. Isa 25:8).

Some New Intellectual Disciplines

The plasticity of the English language, particularly its academic jargon never ceases to make for some good entertainment. Recently, a friend and I had occasion to speculate about possible ways of expressing different intellectual pursuits through the standard ways of nominating fields of study. So, here are some of the things we came up with:

  • Theography: the study of where God is
  • Theophotography: taking pictures of God (i.e. Mega-Iconography)
  • Theocartography: the art of making maps that lead to God
  • Philography: the love of words
  • Ecclesiography: the search for where the church is
My personal favorite is theography. I think if I worked hard enough I could actually make that into an actual term in theological discourse regarding the location of Christ’s body or something. Anyways, perhaps this is all just further proof that theology is, in fact, nothing more than a role-playing game. But hell, at least its fun.

Bonhoeffer Blog Conference Update

I’m pleased to announce that all slots have now been filled for the upcoming Bonhoeffer Blog Conference. I am also especially pleased to report that internationally-known Bonhoeffer scholar Geffrey B. Kelly will be offering a concluding reflection and response to the entire conference. Professor Kelly is the author such books as Liberating Faith: Bonhoeffer’s Message for Today, The Cost of Moral Leadership (With F. Burton Nelson), and the forthcoming Reading Bonhoeffer: A Guide to his Spiritual Classics and Selected Writings on Peace (From Cascade Books). He has also been instrumental in the editing and translation of the Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works series, and is active in the International Dietrich Bonhoeffer Society. I am definitely excited about his participation in the upcoming conference.

Here is the list of participants with their paper titles:

  • Day 1: Introduction to the Conference by Halden
  • Day 2: ‘Christ my Conscience’: Bonhoeffer on Identity, Moral Integrity, and Christian Community by Chris Green
  • Day 3: ‘Being Made in Human Likeness’: ‘Ethics as Formation’ and Von Balthasar’s Concrete Universal by Eric Meyer
  • Day 4: Salvation as Humanification: Bonhoeffer’s Ethical Soteriology by Adam McInturf
  • Day 5: Bonhoeffer and Levinas (Title TBA) by Eric Roorback
  • Day 6: The Ethics of Justification: Bonhoeffer and Jüngel on the Implications of the Doctrine of Justification for Christian Ethics by D.W. Congdon
  • Day 7: Final Reflections and Response to Conference by Geffrey B. Kelly
We are still in need of respondents to the various plenary papers that are set to be presented. So far we only have one volunteered for David Congdon’s paper. If you are interested in responding to the other, please let me know. Responses should be 500-750 words and offer constructive engagement with the plenary in question. If you wish to write a response, please let me know, either by email at halden-at-wipfandstock-dot-com or leave a comment on this post.

Possibilities and Problems of New Testament Apocalyptic

I’m currently reading J. Christaan Beker’s Paul’s Apocalyptic Gospel in an effort to go deeper into exploring the apocalyptic nature of the New Testament. So far it promises to be a pretty good summary the way in which Paul’s theology is shaped by an apocalyptic vision of God’s invasion of the cosmos in Christ’s death and resurrection, a reality which is at once politically and metaphysically subversive to the stable givens of the world. However, I must register an initial concern with the way in which Beker is approaching the matter. It’s not that anything he’s said is outright wrong, it is rather that “apocalyptic” seems to be functioning for him as a sort of conceptual cipher. He states things like “apocalyptic is the product of a severe contradiction between legitimate expectations and reality.” He goes on to contrast an existential and an apocalyptic life-view, which each “arise from different perspectives on life.”

The problem I see hovering behind all this is that it reduces “apocalyptic” to a sort of type, a stable notion which Paul’s story of Jesus typifies. It reders apocalyptic as a literary form, or a cultural sensibility that is stable and definable in nature. However, the whole essence of the apocalypse of Jesus is precisely that it intrudes, disrupts, and subverts the stable givens of the hegemonic reality of the world. Apocalyptic may be a “view” of the world that derives from situations of extreme contradiction, but that doesn’t necessarily tell us anything about the apocalypse of Jesus.

The point, both for theologians and biblical scholars is not to be taken with the notion of apocalyptic, but rather to explore, in conversation with all the relevant biblical and theological sources and authorities, the nature of Christ’s apocalypse in its radical singularity as the Trinitarian epiphany of God’s love invading the cosmos. What is needed is not to posit apocalyptic as a sort of hermeneutic through which we understand Jesus; rather we must allow our hermeneutics to be disrupted by the actuality of the Messianic event which does not merely conform to an apocalyptic genre, but subverts it along with all other genres, or explanatory schemes. What we need is not a stable hermeneutic of apocalypse which will then make Jesus intelligible. Rather we require a posture of constant openness, constant contemplation of the invading mystery of God in Jesus which always exceeds such conceptual schemes. What we need is not apocalyptic, but the actuality of Jesus, who goes on ahead of us, appearing and disappearing at will, always lying just beyond our reach, never assimilable, always and ever new.

Free Patristic Audiobooks

I just discovered, thanks to PhilMaria Lectrix, a blog dedicated to providing audio recordings of books for readers with “Catholic tastes.” Well, sign me up! Included among the free audiobooks are Irenaeus’ Against Heresies, Cyril of Jerusalem’s Catechetical Lectures, Hilaire Belloc’s Europe and the Faith, and John Henry Newman’s Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, just to name a few. This is truly a treasure of Christian literature being made available in audio form. From what I’ve listened to so far, the quality is quite serviceable.

The Apocalypse of Christ as Reverse Recapitulation

Recapitulation is one of the earliest theological ways of conceptualizing the nature of Christian soteriology. In this conceptuality the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, in some sense take all created reality into the person of Jesus, and thus into the life of God, transposing it into a modality of communion in the Trinitarian life of God. What is crucial about recapitulation is to see that it posits the whole event of the Messiah as a sort of microcosm of true worldly reality which, in the midst of the false reality of sin, lives out the truth of redeemed reality, thereby translating created reality out of the false reality of sin and into the new reality of beatitude and koinonia in the Holy Spirit, the very field of God’s own Triune love.

This notion of salvation as recapitulation remains, I think an indispensable one for Christian theology. However, I wonder if there are other modes of conceptualization which would allow us to explore the richness of salvation even further, while still remaining within the thought-world of a theology of recapitulation. If there is a problem with recapitulation, it seems to me that it is the problem of reducing Christ to a sort of microcosmic repetition of created reality which then absorbs us by virtue of his sinless perfection. In other words, recapitulation can come to sound like simply saying that Christ re-performs the human drama the way it should have been originally done by Adam, rather than seeing Christ as apocalyptically irrupting into the human drama of sin in all its brokenness and dissolution and miraculously purging, purifying, and reconstituting it.

This description clearly casts recapitulation in its most simplistic light, and I do not mean to so characterize its Irenaen form by any stretch of the imagination. However, what I do hope to do is point us toward a theology of recapitulation with a slightly (but critically) different cadence. Rather than seeing Christ as the microcosm in whom the history of humanity is re-performed, I suggest we should see the biblical history of Israel and the nations, as preverberations, if you will, of Christ’s apocalyptic recreation of the world in the event of death and resurrection. Such a theology of recapitulation would see the apocalypse of Christ as the macrocosom, the mesoform within which created reality has its being and freedom.  Christ does not so much recapitulate humanity’s past so as to re-render it in perfected form; rather the past acts of Yahweh constitute prevenient events of Christ’s apocalypse, being retroactive recapitulations, or perhaps what we could call precapitulations of Christ’s future, which is to say, the resurrection. The reality of Christ is not a re-performance of a broken past, rather the past is a proleptic pre-performance of the Trinitarian future of absolute freedom.

What we have here is a sort of recapitulation in reverse. The past events of the history of salvation that are determined and constituted by their ordering towards the end which is the Trinitarian epiphany of the eschatological Messiah. This is, of course, the grounding of a decidedly eschatological ontology. The being of things is located, not in their protology, but in their teleology. We are what we are because of what we are destined in Christ to become. Our past, both as individuals and as co-humanity, is a precapitulation in progress, a reversed beginning, a primordial death longing for eschatological resurrection which we taste in the irruptions of the future which constitute the life of the church: Word, Water, Wine, and Bread.

Hart and Jenson: Locating the Disagreement

I’m currently re-reading David Bentley Hart’s The Beauty of the Infinite and am loving going back through this text again. This is truly a magnificent work of Christian theology that deserves extensive thoughtful engagement. After my initial reading of Hart’s book, I found myself giving a profoundly negative assessment thereto; however after letting the book sit and digest over the last year or so and now reading it again, I am finding it more and more joyous an experience.

Ultimately, I think that my own differences with Hart occur at the same theological locale that defines Hart’s argument with Robert Jenson. In the actual discussion of Jenson’s theology and Hart’s argument with him, the disagreement seems to be based on — as Hart says in the preface to the book — a different understanding of the economic and immanent trinities. Particularly there seems to a wide divergence over the issue of what Hart perceives as Jenson’s historicization of God’s being. For Hart it is essential to assert that creation is not necessary to God, that it adds nothing to God’s being, being a purely gratuitous gift of God which neither adds nor detracts from God’s plenitude. For Jenson, however, the revelation of God in Israel and Jesus requires us to identify God’s own self-definition by and as particular historical events, supremely the event of the resurrection which defines and indeed, constitutes God’s own eternal life. For Jenson, “If Jesus is not risen, this God simply is not.”

However, in the course of Hart’s book he makes claims that sound utterly Jensonian, from his musical ontology through which he describes the beatific vision to his Trinitarian theology of divine beauty, Hart and Jenson sound much more alike than unlike one another. The real locus of their disagreement, I suggest is located at the level of their respective theologies of time. Hart’s whole project, including his geneological assault on continental philosophy, is predicated on the positing of a primordial, protological harmony, an original peace that is definitive of creation. This original peace forms the ontological ground of Hart’s entire project. Violence is privatio boni, a secondary intrusion of negation into an ocean of beatific plenitude that the world, as creatio ex nihilo is imbued with. For Hart, it is all about origin. The key to his understanding of the Christian gospel, as a rhetoric of peace is grounded in the positing of an original ontological harmony, a protological ontology of serendipity.

For Jenson, by contrast, the Christian evangel is not primarily constituted by its appeal to an original created harmony, but rather by its proclamation of an irreducible future of eschatological abundance which is the outcome of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. For Jenson, the ontological ground of the Christian gospel does not reside in the past, as a primordial harmony to which we hope to be restored, but rather in the future which is an eschatological superabundance of resurrection life, overturning the world of sin and death in a dynamic confrontation between the powers of death and the life of the Triune God.

Hart’s magnificent Trinitarian aesthetics is grounded protologically; Jenson’s is grounded eschatologically. Herein, I think lies the true difference between the two thinkers. This is seen even in terms of how much attention they respectively give to the doctrines of creation and eschatology respectively. Jenson does not even begin to treat the doctrine of creation until the second volume of his Systematic Theology, only beginning to discuss it after establishing a doctrine of God that is radically determined by the resurrection and eschatology. Hart, by contrast, devotes over a hundred and fifty pages to establishing the doctrines of the analogia entis, divine apatheia, and a doctrine of creation and only then turns to salvation and eschatology, only devoting a mere 18 pages or so to eschatology when he does get there. And even in his discussion of eschatology, the first words thereof are that Christian eschatology affirms the goodness of created difference, again taking recourse back to Hart’s grounding principle of protological harmony.

My point in all this is not to attempt to adjudicate the disagreement between Hart and Jenson. On the whole I find Jenson’s theology to better conform to the ratio of the Christian gospel, which begins with the eschatological proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection then proceeds to retroactively read that overriding reality back into our understandings of God as Trinity and God’s creation. Hart seems to invert this scheme, moving instead from an original metaphysical vision of God and creation to an evaluation and incorporation of the significance of the resurrected Messiah. Ultimately, the difference really lies in the area of ontology: does the being of creation (and God?) take its form and ratio from an original protological harmony, or an irreducible future of superabundance? Or is some sort of third way possible as Jenson seems to hint in his review of Hart in Pro Ecclesia? How one answers that question will probably determine whether one finds Hart or Jenson more persuasive to one’s theological sensibilities.

The Anarchic Kingdom of God

“Anarchism as a principle stands in line with God’s kingdom because the theocracy of God’s kingdom means none other than an anarchist order. The anarchism of God’s kingdom does not mean disorder or chaos but quite the reverse. Here every human being stands in a direct relation to God and in freely ordered and equally based community to each other. The kingdom of God does not run counter to anarchism, but anarchism comes out of the kingdom of God. Where anarchism stands under the rule of God, there is no master-slave relation in the interpersonal realm. The primary rule of God does not tolerate a secondary dominating form of human over human. Where there is the Spirit of the living God, there occurs a voluntary and dominion-free personal community.”

–Paul S. Chung, Karl Barth: God’s Word in Action (Eugene, Or: Cascade Books, Forthcoming)

Radical Reformation Historiography

One of the contributions of John Howard Yoder to Anabaptist ecclesiology and ecumenism is the way in which he articulates clearly the sort of historical method that underlies a Radical Reformation orientation. This is precisely the historical method that Yoder puts to work in his book, The Jewish-Christian Schism Revisited. He claims that “There is no error more natural, and perhaps there are few errors more damaging in the reading of history, than the assumption that events had to go the way they did.” His point is that what seems to us to be an inevitable historical development that we simply take as a given –the Jewish-Christian schism– was not always a given and importing its givenness into a time prior to its occurrence is to do historiographical violence.  There was a time when, to the Christian imagination, the separation between the church and the synagogue ”did not have to be.” The fact that it did turn out thusly does not imbue the outcome with normativity.

This is the crux of the sort of Radical Reformation historiography that informs Yoder’s work. For Yoder, the history of God’s people is not simply providentially guaranteed to turn out in a manner that is inevitably faithful or good. Rather, the church is radically defectible.  Radical unfaithfulness is a real possibility; the church is not merely guranteed to move in slowly in the right direction for all time.  It may find itself radically off course. 

For Yoder it is axiomatic that the church is always unfinished, striving towards, sometimes limping towards, and sometimes running away from its eschatological destiny. As such, the church cannot assume, when considering the outcomes of its history, that all has gone according to God’s intentions. Rather, the task of the church is to constantly reach back into the word that evoked the first generation of disciples. “What we find at the origin is already a process of reaching back again to the origins, to the earliest memories of the event itself, confident that that testimony, however intimately integrated with the belief of the witnesses, is not a wax nose, and will serve to illuminate and sometimes adjudicate our present path.”

The church must always be open to radical reformation, the the thoroughgoing reevaluation of what have come to be its historical givens and assumptions on the basis of the apostolic witnesses to Jesus. To do this, of course, is not to be guaranteed a safe and secure theological method.  Rather it is to thrust oneself into the agony of striving after the Truth that lies beyond us in the risen and ascended Christ, trusting that he will not leave us like orphans, but will come to us, even in our radical deformation as his broken, scattered body.

Oliver O’Donovan & Homosexuality

In light of the ongoing discussion at Faith and Theology over the issue of homosexuality and the church, allow me to plug a book we’ve just published at Wipf and Stock by Oliver O’Donovan, Church in Crisis: The Gay Controversy and the Anglican Communion.  This book is perhaps the most erudite treatment of the current controversy in the Anglican church that I have yet read.  What is most helpful about it is the way that O’Donovan lingers over the questions, taking the time to explore them with the care and patience needed for true theological inquiry.  There is just the right sort of patience in his work, that neither descends into timidity, nor boils over into belligerence.  In and of itself, O’Donovan’s methodological patience serves as a significant corrective to the haste and feverish zeal that characterizes nearly all sides in the debates over homosexuality and the church.

Doubtless the book will not be well-received by everyone — what could be so received in a controversy like this? — but, it is definitely a landmark study one theological ethical methodology in dealing with questions as serious and as fraught with ideology and emotion as that of homosexuality and it deserves a wide reading.  Here’s what Rowan Williams has to say about the book:

“Oliver O’Donovan’s reflections on the current troubles of the Anglican Church are quite simply of unique significance. He consistently takes us to the questions others are not asking and refuses the ready-made questions and answers that paralyze our thinking about the sexuality debates. Anyone wanting to understand what is most deeply at stake theologically ought to read and meditate on this invaluable book.”

And here is what John Milbank said of the book:

“In tones of characteristically elusive profundity, Oliver O’Donovan forces the reader of his new book to realize that contemporary “gayness” represents an enigma which demands a long period of sustained cultural, ethical, and theological reflection before the Church can hope to reach any well-grounded consensus on this issue. He hints that the latter might well be at once more conservative and yet more radical than the political moralizing and prudishness theological liberals might desire. Yet if campaigning for “gay rights” is dismissed as both inappropriate and premature, the schismatic reaction of certain evangelicals is roundly condemned. Indeed, O’Donovan has here achieved nothing less than an indication of just how Anglicanism can in the future reconstruct itself through a recovery of a Hooker-like sense of Episcopalian Catholicity, and the Patristic integration of Platonic wisdom with Biblical revelation, on the part of more discerning evangelicals like himself.”

Why Sectarianism is Required

Perhaps the recurring criticism of the work of Stanley Hauerwas is that his position is ultimately sectarian. The constant sparring between Hauerwas and his critics, from James Gustafson to Jeffrey Stout, always orbits around the pernicious issue of whether or not Hauerwas is sectarian. In response to his critics, Hauerwas has consistently denied that he is sectarian. “I do not see why the position for which I have argued forces the church to withdraw from public policy matters”, Hauerwas consistently claims. For him, there is no reason to assume that the church’s priority as a polis of peaceableness should prohibit Christians from participating in the machinations of states “unless you think that public policy always involves questions of violence and/or coercion.”

Hauerwas’s critics have, of course, not been satisfied by this.  This is so because, as Hauerwas rightly notes, political liberalism can tolerate no interdicting loyalties that could even potentially supersede it. “Liberalism is not simply a theory of government but a theory of society that is imperial in its demands.” Anyone who is willing to clearly articulate in a substantive manner that there are loyalties higher than that of the state and market is always-already labeled a sectarian by those who live under the desire to shore up the imperium, to preserve democracy, to work from within the system (e.g. Jeffrey Stout).  

However, Robert Brimlow, in his critique of Hauerwas, does not argue that his theology is suspect for being sectarian, rather he insists that “he is not quite sectarian enough.” For Brimlow sectarianism, far from being a problem into which a christological and ecclesiocentric ethic might fall, is in fact an imperative for the church striving for faithful discipleship. He notes MacIntyre’s argument regarding the dillemma facing contemporary theology: either the theologian will not try to translate theology into a wider idiom and simply be content with a “closed circle” within which Christians simply talk to one another in their own distinctive ethos and culture, or the theologian will take one of two other paths. First, the theologian may fail in translating theology into a wider idiom, and the result is the same as not trying to do so. Second, they may succeed in translating theology into a wider idiom which results in the evacuation of positive theological content from public theology. It produces nothing but a theistic vocabulary with atheistic substance.

In contrast to contemporary sensibility, the first option, that of the church being a closed circle is actually completely unproblematic. There is no reason to assume that closed circles are bad things. For example, no one believes that Francophones are problematic for not knowing English; if people from outside the Francophone community wish to enter into the life of the French-speaking world they have to learn French. This does not constitute some sort of xenophobic closedness on the part of Francophones. Why should the community of the church be any different? The church’s missional mandate is served, not by an attempt to alleviate its difference, even separation from the world, but rather precisely by its differentness and separateness. The notion of Christians speaking to one another as Christians, and doing so Christianly, in an exclusive community is a nonproblem. It is as absurd an antithesis as insisting that Francophones speaking only to other Francophones in French is a xenophobic repudiation of the world.

In other words, it is absolutely essential that the church be sectarian if it is going to truly be the church. Attempts to mitigate sectarianism are attempts to make the church and Christianity less churchly and less Christian. As such, these impulses must be rejected for the sake of faithful discipleship. Moreover, the sectarian imperative does not mean the withdrawal of the church from the world. Rather it is a call to a more radical way of being worldly, of doing world. For the church to be faithfully sectarian, the church must embody within itself the fullness of humanity being restored in the image of the new creation. The sectarian imperative is wedded to a strong assertion of catholicity. The church is necessarily separate from the state and the other principalities and powers of this world precisely because they constitute the old order under sin which is passing away while the church embodies the in-breaking of God’s apocalyptic kingdom which embraces, incorporates, and enfolds all created reality by transforming it within its own life.  It is the church, rather than the “world” which is the wide space. The reason the church must be sectarian is not because the world is too big, too dirty, or too messy; it is because it is too provincial, too small, too sanitized, too inoculated. The church, not the world under the powers is the broad place in which life can be actualized before God in the true and ultimate sense of worldliness. In short, what we think of as world is merely the thrashing vestiges of defeated powers fading toward nothingness and defeat.  The church is the world being recreated through the Spirit of the risen and ascended Messiah.

None of this is a rejection of the church’s missional mandate. Rather it is the only way to be missionally faithful. The church’s mission is to embody and proclaim the coming of the new creation in its own life. The goal of the church is to make disciples of all nations. This commission can only be fulfilled when our difference from the nations is as maximal as the difference between the death and resurrection, the old creation and the new. In short, the only way to be missional is to be a sectarian, indeed it is the only way to love the world. For the church’s faithfulness, it seems that sectarianism is required.

Theological Scribbles

It is nice to see the theoblogosphere expanding with Robin Parry of Paternoster starting his own blog of Theological Scribbles.  He has already posted a number of witty and provocative posts on various theological topics.  I look forward to more from Robin, and want to say welcome to the blogs!

Staying Informed on the American Political Apparatus

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QakVlC3X_s]

The Bonhoeffer Blog Conference: Call for Respondents

The Bonhoeffer Blog Conference, though still a ways off is coming together nicely.  Here is a tentative list of participants with their paper titles:

  • Day 1: Introduction by Halden
  • Day 2: ‘Christ my Conscience’: Bonhoeffer on Identity, Moral Integrity, and Christian Community by Chris Green
  • Day 3: ’Being Made in Human Likeness’: ‘Ethics as Formation’ and Von Balthasar’s Concrete Universal by Eric Meyer
  • Day 4: Salvation as Humanification: Bonhoeffer’s Ethical Soteriology by Adam McInturf
  • Day 5: Bonhoeffer and Levinas (Title TBA) by Eric Roorback
  • Day 6: The Ethics of Justification: Bonhoeffer and Jüngel on the Implications of the Doctrine of Justification for Christian Ethics by D.W. Congdon
  • Day 7: TBA
At this point we are now in need of respondents to the various plenary papers that are set to be presented.  Responses should be 500-750 words and offer constructive engagement with the plenary in question.  If you wish to write a response, please let me know, either by email at halden-at-wipfandstock-dot-com or leave a comment on this post.

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