Archive - March, 2010

Feet of Clay?

I’ve been slow on my reading of Douglas Campbell’s The Deliverance of God lately. Sorry to leave you all hanging. I’m currently going through the chapter where he critiques the traditional “justification theory” reading of Romans 1:18-3:20.

In general, I find in reading through this section that my fears from the earlier chapters are playing out. The critiques Campbell brings against “traditional” readings of Romans 1-3 are, in general, critiques of justification theory as he has presented it, coupled with the idea that Romans 1-3 has to be read in a particular way in order to uphold that theory.

The problem with this, as I mentioned earlier, is that I am not aware of anyone who holds to justification theory and its reading of Romans 1-3 in precisely the way that Campbell presents it. Or, perhaps I know of some people, but they’re not biblical scholars.

In my estimation, the “best” readings of Paul, and of Romans 1-3, recognize that, yes, Paul is what Campbell calls an “apocalyptic” thinker. Moreover, there is also a wide-spread estimation that though Rom 1-3 works as an argument that, in general, thinks “forwards,” rather than starting from the Christ event and reassessing everything else in its light, that these earlier passages still reflect Paul’s ex post facto thinking even though they are not making an ex post facto argument.

In short, there are numerous places where different ways of putting Paul’s argument together, or reframing our own estimation of what a tenable argument is, leaves those of us who haven’t come up with Campbell’s reading wondering who he is trying to dissuade of their own.

The other reason I am not finding the feet of the “traditional” reading so clay-like as the book would have me to is because the critiques leveled against the reading sometimes feel anachronistic. Is it really an argument against Paul to say that a would-be prophetic critique of non-Christian Judaism leaves “Judaism necessarily accused of depravity”? Maybe I’ve been spending too much time reading the OT Prophets recently, but such a criticism of an interpretation of Paul seems to be too dependent on modern sensibilities about what a person is or isn’t allowed to say about Judaism in light of the post-Jewish history of Christianity.

Put differently: Jewish prophets told the Jewish people in general that they were rebellious and depraved–even in their most pious acts of worship!–and that if they didn’t heed the voice of the prophet they were going to find themselves under God’s judgment. This might not always make them happy (cf. Habakkuk), but neither did it make them anti-Jewish, anti-Semitic, or the like. One might also compare the denunciations of the outsiders we find at Qumran.

Such parallels, one might argue, are no reason to think that Paul, who has a very different understanding of God’s work, is doing the same thing. Fair enough. But the parallels do show that there is no contradiction in Paul making the sort of arguments that, according to Campbell, are clear indications of “problems” in the traditional reading. My estimation is that these are greater problems for 21st century westerners than for a first century Jew.

Thus far, I continue to grow in my suspicions that the “straw man” critique is more or less fatal. There seems to be little reason for the wholesale reassessment Campbell has on offer. Without the exegetical problems, I see little need for a radical new solution. Yes, there are a few points at which some inconsistencies arise, a few places where a small problem or two should be hammered out.

In all, what I’m thinking as I run through the critique is that what’s needed is a robust articulation of justification within the union-with-Christ, ex post facto paradigm–not the radical reconceptualizing that awaits me on the future pages of DoG, but the position I wish Campbell had engaged with as he was making his proposal.

Redemptive Economy and Human Value

I’m grading a paper right now that is bringing some aspects of the NT’s picture of money into conversation with our American vision of “the good”. It has inspired a tangential thought…

A common way forward when talking about the value of human life is to begin with the idea of everyone being made in the image of God. There is something healthy about this, it reminds us that God cares about the people we would blow off, push over, and all-around blow by in our whirlwind, rat-race lives.

But when talking about the idea of common value before the face of God, I wonder if we wouldn’t do better to start closer to home. There is something to be said for starting with “redemption” even when talking about people being made in God’s image: Romans 8 talks about the image of the resurrected Christ as the image of God to which He desires to see us conformed.

But I want to go elsewhere.

A major theme of 1 Corinthians is that the gospel turns the economy of the world on its head: not only is the world’s vision of wisdom and power eschewed by God in the cross of Christ, the upsetting of the worldly-wisdom applecart is reinforced within the body as the Spirit calls the uncallable, gifts the ungifted, and in every way refuses to affirm the value system of the Greco-Romans world.

So when we see the man on the street, a person who is at the bottom of society’s ladder, unproductive and with nothing to offer according to our economies of capitalism, personal safety, public health and welfare–yes, we are seeing someone the loving of whom would be an extension of our love of God. Created in God’s image.

But the call of the church is not merely to proclaim what is there, but to be an agent of who we are and what the world shall be. Charity and generosity are an extension into the world’s economy of the upside-down economy of the gospel. To embrace them as full of value and worth is not merely to say who they are, but to say who God wants them to be–it is the gospel lived in a transforming act of grace.

Endorsing Imperfection

Today, the CEO of University of California San Francisco (a medical behemoth here in San Francisco) sent out this letter. I tend to steer clear of political topics here. Not my bailiwick. But thought it was an interesting perspective: why a large hospital system would endorse imperfection. In short, he thinks its worth it to secure access to healthcare for 30-50 million Americans.

Dear Colleagues:

One year ago, President Obama and Congress began work on reforming our system of healthcare.  The competing goals were to reduce the costs of the healthcare system, while providing affordable health insurance coverage to the nearly 50 million people in this country who do not have it.  As a result of the economic downturn in the past year, the number of people who lost their jobs and health insurance has only increased the need.

As healthcare reform was being debated, a group of 11 leaders from major academic medical centers – UCSF, Partners in Boston, NY Presbyterian, NY Beth Israel, University of Pennsylvania, Johns Hopkins, Emory in Atlanta, University of Florida Shands, Barnes Jewish Christian in St. Louis, University of Michigan and University of Washington – began weekly phone conferences along with regular visits to Congress and the White House to help shape the legislation.  Along with the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC), this group has advocated for the creation of “health innovation zones” (demonstration projects to provide care more efficiently with better quality), and supported an increase in the number of physician training slots, given projected physician manpower shortages. We’ve also opposed certain proposals like “geographic variation,” which would redistribute Medicare funds from seven large urban states to 17 smaller, rural states, and the creation of an independent Medicare rate setting organization.

Among the leadership of our academic medical center community are both Republicans and Democrats.  Over the past several months, many in our group voiced concerns that the Senate and House legislation did not go far enough relative to a public insurance option and did not cover all people residing in the United States, while others voiced concerns about the nearly $1 trillion cost and whether this reform would reduce or increase the deficit.

We worked with members of the House on their original bill last fall, and later with members of the Senate on their bill, and again in the last two months with the House on the bill that will be voted on this weekend.  We have had intense discussions among ourselves, with legislators and the White House over many, many provisions in the 2,500 page bill.

Last week, however, this group of  academic medical center leaders and the board of the AAMC came to a unanimous decision.  The choice was to endorse the current House proposal, which is imperfect, or oppose the current House proposal and urge Congress to start over on healthcare reform.  The overwhelming sentiment of both groups was that the nation will be better off with the legislation on the table now, enabling about 30 million of the 50 million uninsured Americans to gain access to healthcare. Both groups sent letters to President Obama, Speaker Pelosi and Senate Majority Leader Reid endorsing the healthcare reform legislation that will come before the House this Sunday.

This morning, the board of the California Hospital Association endorsed the legislation (contingent on geographic variation remaining out of the bill), and today, Dr. Jack Stobo, UC Senior Vice President for Health Sciences and Services, is sending a letter to President Obama expressing the University of California’s support for this legislation.

If this bill passes (as most Washington insiders believe it will) and is signed into law, a new era in American healthcare will begin.  It will be ragged, to be sure, and there are aspects of reform that will cause financial, operational and other challenges for UC, UCSF and academic medicine. But even so, my personal view is that with passage, our nation will have taken the first and most important step toward making certain that comprehensive healthcare is available to all people who live in the United States, employed or unemployed, indigent or aged.  If you know someone who has been without coverage and needed it, or needed it yourself, you know how important this is.

As always, I thank you for your hard work on behalf of UCSF Medical Center and the patients we serve.

Sincerely,

Mark R. Laret
CEO
UCSF Medical Center
UCSF Children’s Hospital

What is the Bible and What Are We Supposed to Do With It?

In yesterday’s post I made reference to a thousand years without doctrinal statements. What I was referring to was the ways that Jewish theological reflection is demonstrated to us in the Old Testament and the ways that it is shown to us in the New. For all the things that we can and cannot say about the Bible, and for all the difficulties inherent in trying even to talk about “the Bible” as a singular entity, some labels clearly do not fit and this is significant.

One, the Bible is not a guide to living. Yes, there are rules and instructions, but that’s not what the Bible is. Yes, we are to apply much of the wisdom it contains to our lives, but even its commands are tied to particular people in particular moments. Meat sacrificed to idols? Not a big deal (Paul)? Or damnable offense (everyone else)?

Two, the Bible is not a work of doctrine or systematic theology. Yes, it does contain theological claims. But how are those claims expressed and what does that tell us about what we should be doing with the Bible?

One route has proven to be a dead end, and I’d suggest it must inherently be seen as a dead end because it depends on a mistaken idea of what the Bible is. The idea promoted by J. P. Gabler in his famous “Oration on the Proper Distinction between Biblical and Dogmatic Theology and the Specific Objectives of Each” is that the task of Biblical theology is to distill the timeless truths from the Biblical texts and hand these to the theologians to order into their proper logical sequence and results.

This is a bad idea on several grounds.

First, it presumes that the point of biblical theology is to create something else. Yesterday I voiced some hesitation about the idea that we should see systematic-type theology as an inherent product of Christianity. That presupposition has been too often accepted without question. In fact, the Bible is neither a systematic theology nor a refrigerator full of ingredients placed there for the purpose of being made into a theological cake.

The true end of Biblical theology should be to articulate a theology that corresponds to the historical and narratival dynamics that make theology biblical. In Biblical theology, God must always be the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God and Father who raised Jesus from the dead. God need be neither of those things in systematic theology, where timeless truths are the order of the day.

Gabler plays into the mistake that in order to be “true” something must be “timeless”. The abstracted is therefore to be prized as the “goal” of such investigations. But again, what the Bible actually is argues strongly against such an idea. We have stories of Jesus–told four times over without any concern for distilling a timeless truth from it. No, it seems in fact that biblical theological reflection moves in much the opposite direction–recontextualizing the message in order to show how it is true rather than decontextualizing it.

What is the Bible? I am committed to a generally narratival shape to scripture: it is a dynamic story that moves from creation and fall through Israel’s story of patriarchs and law and judges and kings and exile and failed return and messiah and church and return. I am committed to this, not because I think it is a problem-free story that runs easily from start to finish, but because even where we find theology and instruction and wisdom and law it is all deeply shaped by the moment of the story within which it is found.

The whole points in one direction: the Bible is storied. Therefore, our calling is to tell the story well so that we learn to live and love and worship well within the narrative that determines our identity.

The question I’m perennially wrestling with is this: is there a way to do theology that will conduce to faithful living? Is there a storied theology that can succeed in drawing people along the way of the cross, a way to express theological commitment that would never, for example, allow someone to claim the church’s blessing on a vision that said, “By this cross you will conquer”?

To be continued…

Hitchens Rejects Atheism! (ok, it’s the other Hitchens…)

It seems that the infamous atheist Christopher Hitchens has a brother–whose got a bone to pick with New Atheism. An article summarizing his journey is in The Daily Mail.

The Rage Against God: How Atheism Led Me to Faith is about to be released in the US by Zondervan. It tells his story from Bible-burning teenager (20-something?) to a return to Christian faith.

Here’s a video promo:

Should make for fascinating reading.

HT: Paul Burkart in Patrol Magazine.

How Necessary is Doctrine?

A comment on yesterday’s post raised the question of whether I was really talking about theology or whether doctrine was more the source of my own fears and the exercise that, itself, operates out of certain fears. The question of theology or doctrine is a good one, and perhaps a good segue into some further reflections on what biblical theology is and how it’s useful to the theology of the church.

The first thing that’s been on my mind for the past couple of weeks as I’ve wrestled with these questions here is that Christians tend to assume that doctrine is inevitable, that something resembling systematic theology will always be the outcome of our engagement with the Bible, and that these doctrinal statements will inevitably determine what it is to faithfully speak of God and live in the world.

But I don’t think this is the case.

In the Jewish and Christian traditions, the move toward doctrine and systematic theology has been much more of a Christian enterprise than a Jewish one. Yes, Jews believe things, and there are things that they will say are wrong to believe. But “doing theology” has never become the dominant way of expressing faithful Judaism.

I have heard it said on several occasions (although, of course, this is a generalization amenable to numerous counter examples) that early Judaism was a religion of orthopraxis rather than a religion of orthodoxy. Again, even if this is not entirely true, it is an indication that there is a different way to judge the faithfulness of a religion other than the doctrines put down on paper. Whereas evangelical Christianity tends to live as though we can do any old thing we want to as long as we believe the right things, there is no inherent reason why it couldn’t be the opposite–that a group could pretty much decide that you can believe any old thing you want to as long as you do the right things.

I know, I know, believing and doing are not so neatly separated. But (I hope) you get my point. There are cultural and historical factors at work in generating a sense of plausibility around claims that doctrine is inevitable. Given the Bible we have, I’d say that stories are inevitable. Given the Bible we have, I’d say that good enactments and bad enactments, good responses and bad responses, are inevitable. But I’m not as certain that doctrine is inevitable–necessary in the sense of something that will be inherently generated by this collection of texts.

Among the myriad things it testifies to is this: the people of God did not feel any particular compulsion to create a [systematic] theology for over a thousand years. I’m not sure we take that seriously enough.

This is bringing us right up to the edge of what the Bible is (and isn’t) and what that might tell us about what we should (and shouldn’t) be doing with it. I’ll save that question for tomorrow, at which point I’ll mourn and lament the work of J. P. Gabler.

Theology & Fear

I am pondering a series, in partial response to Adam’s request for some sort of positive depiction of what I think theology is good for, and where it fits into the life of the church. Part of my response to that plea is to invite you to reread the first several posts where I talk about God and the structure of the universe. But I do need to keep moving this thing in a positive direction and, perhaps, explain a bit why some of the pleas for theology strike a raw nerve.

Why do the sorts of claims that I engaged last week about the benefits of theology set me off into a “down with theology” type of posture? Several reasons, some personal some historical.

First, I know from the personal experience of learning theology and watching others learn theology that there is no connection between theological knowledge and personal or corporate piety. Simply put, learning theology does not make very many people more loving and humble Christians, and  denominations deeply saturated in their theological traditions do not stand forth as beacons of light shining in the darkness. I also know that my personal theological knowledge often has and does make me more of a jerk.

Second, historically the discipline of biblical studies separated itself from theology because theology was keeping biblical scholars from saying what the text says. A somewhat analogous thing happened in the Reformation. Having lived through a denominational experience where scripture was not allowed to correct the theological tradition, I can attest to the fact that theology can, and will, be used to silence the voice of scripture. I never want to walk into a position where it is given that kind of power.

This last point is why I reacted so strongly to the contrast between our subjective experience and theology. Yes, at its best theology is a corrective standing outside ourselves. But theology is, and always will be, even at its best, the corporate, subjective wisdom of a given person or people at a given time and place. It is sanctified subjectivity, but no less subjective for that.

Theology finds its power to silence scripture (and people) from this claim to its standing as objective truth. But while objective truth exists, we can always only at best approximate it. The challenge for theology is not only to confess this in word but to live like it in deed: to treat itself as provisional, always subject to change and development and correction.

While I fear theology exercising its power, I know that theologians fear slipping into a morass of relativism. I don’t think that the appeal to the objective strength of theology is the only way to keep us from such a slippery slope. I think there’s a better way forward.

I’ll see what I can do to articulate this vision a bit more in the days ahead.

Grace on the Ground

A final foray into this month’s Christianity Today takes us to the moving story of Chris Rice, chronicling the low-point and turning-point of his famous partnership (and friendship) with Spencer Perkins.

Their efforts at leading an interracial Christian community had pushed them to the breaking point in their relationship with each other. Before chucking everything and parting ways, they called in some mediators to help hold them together. Spencer had an epiphany:

Yeah, yeah, I know all about grace, I thought… Grace is God’s love demonstrated to us, even though we don’t deserve it. But in all my 43 years of evangelical teaching, I never understood until now that God intended grace to be a way of life for his followers… Sure, I knew that we were supposed to love one another as Christ loved us. But somehow it was much easier for me to swallow the lofty untested notion of dying for each other than simply giving grace to brothers and sisters on a daily basis, the way God gives us grace” (36).

I take two things away from this. First, all the talk about “dying” might not have the payoff that I might hope. Of course, if someone “gets it,” it will be a powerful motivator and metaphor, but someone can hold onto the idea that we’re supposed to die for each other and use that as an excuse not to live for one another. Spencer confesses to such a short-changing of the gospel here.

The other thing, though, is that we must keep coming back to the idea that means by which God forms us into a people when he calls us to himself in Christ determines our identity as God’s people, which in turn delineates what it means to live as God’s faithful people. We are a people saved by grace–and therefore we are to be grace to one another. We are a people saved by the self-giving love of Christ and therefore we are to give up our lives in love of one another. We are a people saved as God lavishes forgiveness upon us, and we are called in turn to be a forgiveness people, forgiving one another from the heart.

Any idea of “grace” or “forgiveness” or “self-giving” or “cruciformity” that does not immediately call us to be for others what we have received from Christ is a selling-short of the faithful life to which God calls us. If we have received grace from above, we are called to be grace on the ground here below.

Scholarship to Study at Sheffield

A scholarship to study at the University of Sheffield has recently been posted. It seems that you must be a UK resident to qualify, but that might apply to some of you. Sorry for getting everyone else’s hopes up!

A full AHRC scholarship is available for doctoral work in religious studies at the University of Sheffield, starting in the academic sessions 2010/11.

The scholarship is covers the cost of the UK/EU tuition fees and provides an annual, tax-free maintenance stipend at the standard UK research rate, which
for 2010/11 is £13,650 for doctoral students. A fees-only scholarship award covers the cost of the UK/EU tuition fees only. The type of scholarship awarded is based on an applicant’s residency status. UK applicants and EU applicants who have been resident in the UK for at least 3 years immediately preceding the
start of their course are eligible for the full scholarship. EU applicants that have not been resident in the UK for 3 years immediately preceding the start of
their course are eligible for a fees-only award. International applicants are not normally eligible. Awards for doctoral study are tenable for a
maximum of three years full-time and five years part-time subject to satisfactory progress.

Candidates will be required to have gained a Masters degree, or be working towards the completion of a Masters degree.

Deadline: Friday 9th April 2010 at 5pm (GMT)

Further details, including the application form, are available on the Department of Biblical Studies website:

http://www.shef.ac.uk/bibs/news/headlines/2009-10/scholarship.html

If there are any questions or queries, please contact James Crossley
(james.crossley@shef.ac.uk)

What’s In the Name of the Lord?

What difference does it make for our understanding of NT Christology that the κύριος (“Lord”) language from the OT, the translation of YHWH, is applied to Jesus in the New?

It is highly significant. It wraps up Jesus into the identity of YHWH. And it tells us nothing about whether the NT writers thought Jesus was “divine” in the sense of either pre-existent or sharer in the godhead in a binitarian or proto-Trinitarian sort of fashion.

To take one example: in Peter’s sermon at Pentecost in Acts 2, he both cites Joel 2 which refers to being saved by calling on the name of YHWH and also then refers to Jesus as the Lord upon whose name one must call in order to be saved. Is Luke’s point, in part, that Jesus is YHWH?

Three points argue heavily against this.

First, the sermon itself consistently and sharply distinguishes between Jesus and God. “Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him.” Jesus is a human who acts as God’s agent on the earth. This is God’s doing, bringing about the signs and wonders promised by Joel–but through a human agent.

Similarly, when speaking of the resurrection this sermon (like Paul, Hebrews, etc.) speaks of God as the agent of the man Jesus’ resurrection: “This Jesus God raised up… having received the Spirit from the Father, he has poured this out…” The sermon indicates that Jesus is a human through whom God is acting.

Second, the sermon indicates clearly that becoming Lord (κύριος) is something that happens to Jesus at his resurrection: “Let the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” The claim of the entire sermon is that Jesus’ being Lord (κύριος) is a change that takes place in Jesus, not something that was always true or is simply shown to be true at the resurrection. Again, Luke is in step with Paul here (see Romans 1:4, 1 Cor 15).

Third, the OT has several perfectly good categories for YHWH’s name being placed on people or places. The story of the biblical God is the story of a God who wraps his identity up with those who represent Him on the earth. One example is found in Daniel 9. In the prophet’s prayer for restoration from exile, this is the means by which he strives to motivate God to act: “O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive. O Lord, pay attention and act. Delay not, for your own sake, O my God, because your city and your people are called by your name.”

God has placed his name on a people. God has placed his name on a city. This means that YHWH’s fate on the earth, YHWH’s standing before the nations, is tied to what happens to those humans and that geopolitical entity to which YHWH has chosen to bind himself.

What does this mean for Jesus? It means that a major set of data in the NT that speaks to the question of Christology should be reframing how we think about what it means to be the human(s) entrusted to represent the reign of God to the earth. It means that the NT writers are inviting us to see that Jesus is the man upon whom God has placed his name and staked his identity, as he did to the kings, people, and nation of old.

It means to be called “Christian” is to bear the name of the name-bearer, and therefore to be charged to carry the mission of God, as God’s ambassador, to the ends of the earth.

Page 2 of 4«1234»