What is Natural Theology?

Perhaps the most contentious subject in early twentieith century theology was the issue of the viability or not of natural theology.  This polarity persists in contemporary theology, though today the issue has become even more honed directly in on the issue of analogy.  However, this discussion is usually nebulous in that the perceived relationship between the analogy of being and natural theology is highly disputed.  For most followers of Barth, the analogia entis simply entails natural theology.  For other interlocutors like David Bentley Hart, it is precisely the analogia entis that rules out any natural theology of the sort that Barth criticized. 

The point of all this is simply to ask the question of what we actually mean by the term natural theology.  What is natural theology, properly speaking and how is it to be distinguished from other theological concepts such as general revelation or a theology of nature?

Theological Music

“The end is music.”  Thus Robert Jenson ends his magnificent systematic theology in describing the visio dei in distinctly aural terms.  The vision of God, the beatific vision is here conceived not first and foremost as seeing, but as hearing, as listening to the intonations, harmonies, and rhythms of the eternal discourse of the Trinitarian persons.

This vision is rooted in a central theological sentiment, namely that music has incredible theological vitality and power.  However, what is it that makes music theological?  And what constituted good theological music?  How are such aesthetic judgments to be made in the theological task?

Be a Man!

Little did we all know it, but apparently males are being systematically excluded from the Christian church.  Yes, contrary to all appearances, it seems that the reason that churches in America today lack innovation and energy is because the men are being excluded.  Mark Driscoll tells us why (with some visual aids, thankfully thrown in by somebody from YouTube).

The Gospel of Atheism: A Trinity Sunday Sermon

It is perhaps supremely odd that we have in our calendar one day devoted to the Triune God. Generally all of our holidays that we celebrate in our rehearsal of God’s story are rememberings of divine saving events. We celebrate the incarnation of the Son at Christmas, the manifestation of the Jesus’ glory at Epiphany, the sufferings of Jesus during Lent, the Resurrection of Jesus’ during Easter and the coming of the Spirit of God to create us anew during Pentecost. All of these are divine events, glorious events in the history of God’s salvation of the world. However, Trinity Sunday is not, or does not seem to be such a holiday. Instead it seems to be the celebration of an idea, of a concept, of a notion of God. That seems weird and foreign to our imaginations. If worship is supposed to be a recounting of the great deeds of the Lord, of giving thanks to God for all that God has done for us, why then would we devote a Sunday to abstract speculation about a concept or idea?

But let us back up for a moment and think further about this. We are gathered here together to praise God, but we are here to do so precisely by proclaiming the gospel. What is central about our gathering as the people of God is that we gather together to speak truth to one another. We speak the truth about God, ourselves, and the world when we gather together. This is how we praise God, by speaking according to the way things truly are. By enacting through our words a way of seeing the world that is truthful rather than false we praise God. For God’s glory is the appearance and acknowledgement of the truth. To praise is to do truth. To worship God is to take on the practice of what Marva Dawn calls “truthing”. What we come together to do today is to say truth, to celebrate truth, to love truth, and by doing so to be made true, to enter into the truth, into the ultimate meaning of the world.

This is why it is so significant that Jesus proclaimed himself as the Truth. If we believe Jesus’ statement that he is the Truth, then we are identifying Jesus in a very particular and very radical way. Jesus’ statement that he is the Truth is indeed, very closely related to his claim in our Scripture passage today that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him and to his promise that he will be with us always, even to the end of the age. The identity of Jesus is inextricably tied up with the ultimate questions of God. The questions of Truth, Authority, and Presence, all of these divine realities, are, according to Jesus, located in his person. If the gospel, which we are here to proclaim today, is true, then the identity of the one true God is part and parcel of what we must talk about in our worship if we are to be true to our task as the people of God. Since we are coming together to proclaim the Truth about God, to thus glorify God, and since the story of Jesus – which we have recounted all year from Advent to Pentecost – defines the very shape of the one, true , authoritative and ever-present God, we must, in order to proclaim the gospel, tell one another over and over again about the identity of God revealed in Jesus. And this brings us to the threshold – nay, to the center – of the mystery of the Trinity.

Let us back up again and think more about this. What we are here to do today is to proclaim the truth about God, ourselves, and the world, thereby glorifying God. In order for us to do this we have to talk about Jesus, since according to the gospel he is the Truth, and in him the very reality of God has come among us. So, proclaiming the truth about God, speaking truth to one another, becoming a people of truth, all of these things require us to speak about who the God manifest for us in Jesus Christ is. The gospel in the invitation – and demand – to find the truth about God in the face of Jesus Christ. The point is this: We cannot proclaim the gospel truly, we cannot worship the God of the gospel truly, we cannot be a people of the truth together unless we have indeed identified God in and through Jesus Christ. This is what the doctrine of the Trinity is all about. The doctrine of the Trinity is our way as Christians of learning to speak about the God revealed in Jesus as the one true God. To say that God is Trinity is to say that there are no gods. There is only Jesus, the one he called Father, and the Spirit of their love, all of whom we have experienced as the one God, the source of all being, meaning, truth, and community.

In a very real way the fact that we dedicate one Sunday to the Triune God is simply silly. Since every Sunday is for us the day to gather together and proclaim the truth of the gospel, every Sunday is Trinity Sunday, for we cannot rightly do our job of gathering together to proclaim the truth without proclaiming the identity of God revealed in Jesus. However, that is perhaps precisely why a Sunday dedicated specifically to the Trinity exists. It is here to remind us, at the culmination of the festal cycle of the Christian year that all of our holidays, all of our recountings of the deeds of God reach their completion and fullness in our truth-telling, in our acknowledgement of the identity of the one True God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

The flip side of this proclamation of the truth of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is the condemnation of all idols, indeed of all gods. In a very real sense the biblical identification of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is the proclamation of atheism. As we are invited to contemplate, worship, proclaim, and adore the true God, we are compelled, required, and indeed, commanded to forsake and abandon any and all gods. The God of Abraham, of Moses, of Mary, of Israel and of the church is fundamentally un-godlike. Gods are powerful beings who intervene in the world, who are invoked and placated by humankind. Gods are worshiped and served so that they will become our allies, our helpers, and protectors. Gods are beings that we call upon and pray to to help us out of our problems, to give us solutions, to keep us in the positions we want to be in. However, these gods, these powers, do not save, they dominate, enslave, and oppress. Christianity, from its earliest beginnings with Abraham and Moses constitutes a rejection of the gods.

Herbert McCabe has rightly pointed out that, the first words of the biblical story center on the reality of the Voice, of the one true Reality, calling men and women away from the gods into liberation, into communion, into hope. The message of Israel’s gospel is the proclamation “I brought you out of slavery…you shall have no gods.” At the heart of the gospel’s affirmation that the One, the Truth, and the Real is found in the God of Israel and Jesus is the claim that all other gods, and any idea of Yahweh as a god must be done away with.

The one true God is not a god. The Triune one is not an inhabitant of the universe who happens to be more powerful than everyone else. God is not a “top person”, not a big man upstairs. God is the reason that there is anything at all. The Triune God sustains everything and upholds all creation within Godself. This is the first truth of Israel’s experience of Yahweh’s liberation. Yahweh is not a god, rather Yahweh is the creator of all things, the reason for all things, the sustainer and upholder of everything. God is not simply the biggest being in the heavens, Yahweh is the creator of the heavens. Indeed, sin is the very failure to recognize this truth, sin means to think that God is just a being that we can stand over against, rather than the reason for all being and for our very existence. Sin is our self-delusion, our daring to think that God is a creature and that therefore we can become “like gods” ourselves. The devil’s lie in the garden was not that we would become like gods. That is true and that is, tragically, what we have become. We have become like gods, the false gods, the false powers. That was not his lie. His lie was that we should want to be like that. That we should want to be like gods rather than simply be creatures of Yahweh.

This message of Yahweh as the end of all gods is central to how we understand the fullness of Yahweh’s revelation in Jesus. What we see in Jesus is that God is not just the creator and sustainer of all things over against all other gods and powers, though God is indeed that. What we see in Jesus is that God is not just the creator but the lover of humanity in Jesus. What we see in Jesus is that God identifies Godself with us lowly creatures, condescending to us, becoming what we are so that we might participate in the fullness of who God is in Godself. This is the great wonder of the gospel. It would already be a glorious and liberating mystery to know that all the gods and powers of this world are false pretenders and the true God of liberation and creation offers us freedom from such lies. But the gospel of the Triune God is even more glorious.

That is why the gospel is not just good news, it is more than good news. The gospel would be good news even if all it said was that the one true God holds us all together, that he sustains us, upholds us, forgives us and gives us life. That would still be good news. But the gospel is more than this, ever so much more. The gospel is that God does not merely create, sustain and forgive us, but that God takes us, in Jesus into Gods own life. That he unites us to Godself. God does not merely sustain us and liberate us from false masters. God give us God’s very own self, so that we, his finite and flawed creatures can become participants in the very life of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. As Herbert McCabe has reminded us,

With Jesus we come to a new vision of God, of the same God who was the God of Moses. Now, though, God is not seen primarily as making, acting, doing, not primarily as holding the universe in being, but primarily as [the] eternal lover of Jesus. The life of God is not primarily the life of sustaining the existence of all creature: the life of God within the Godhead is ultimately the life of love between Father and Son, and this life of loving and delight we call the Holy Spirit. We could put it by saying that with Jesus we come to see that God the Creator is first of all, and before that, God the lover; that, as John finally puts it, God is love. Even beyond creating, there is loving. (Herbert McCabe, God Still Matters, 236)

The good news, no, the great news of the Christian proclamation of the Triune God is that the God who creates, sustains and liberates all things does even more. The Triune God revealed in Jesus takes all of us sorry creatures into God’s own life. God makes us into persons in Jesus. Persons who live from, by, and to the eternal love of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. God is not content merely to create and sustain us. God will not rest until God has become our Father, our Mother, our sister, our brother, and our friend.

That is why Trinity Sunday lies at the end of the festal cycle of the Christian year. The God of creation and covenant, of Easter and Pentecost is the God who takes us into Gods own life through Jesus and the Spirit. That is the reality we experience here today in proclaiming the truth about God to one another. Through song and sermon, through bread and wine, we proclaim that this is God and the God looks like this. We proclaim the truth of the Triune God by celebrating the much more of grace, the sheer abundance of gift that is poured out into our lives by the Holy Spirit. We all come together as those who have been created, sustained, liberated, and called into eternal communion with God through Jesus Christ. We are here to celebrate this reality. We are here to dance for joy in the rhythms of the Trinitarian life of God which we have experienced in the cross, resurrection, and ascension of Christ. Today we remember our Triune Lord so that we might remember this holy God every day, rejoicing in the abundance of the true God. The proclamation of the Triune God is not a call to philosophical speculation or theological abstraction. It is a call to rejoice in the one who opens God’s own life to us, calling us further up and further in.

In sin we have lost everything. In the Triune God we have been given infinitely more than everything. The message that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are the one true God, and that this one true God is how all things will turn out is our great and holy gospel. We are summoned by this God, this God who is love from beginning to end to rejoice with one another, to speak truth to one another, the work with one another, and to find in one another the life of the Holy Spirit whom God has poured out into us all as his holy church. We have been saved indeed, in a manner we could not have imagined. Our gospel is not just good news, it is great news. Christ, our Lamb has conquered, let us follow him. The Spirit who searches all things, even the depths of God has been given to us, let us be led by him. The Father who created all things has given all of himself to us that we might know his love, let us worship him. The Lord alone is God. Worthy is the Lamb who was slain. Behold I am with you always, even to the very end of the world. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit is with us all. These holy promises are true. Let us not forget the greatness of our Triune Lord who calls us into discipleship with one another. Blessed by the name of the Lord, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Theology and Poetics

In his book, A Theology of Compassion, Oliver Davies suggests that theology has a fundamentally poetic character.  The act of theology is an act of imaginative poiesis, of making language strange.  Poetry, he says leads us to the threshold of theology, but not beyond precisely because of theology’s commitment to historicity.  While poems in some sense remain tied to the empirical reality of the world, they basically function as a semiotic system, as a textual world of their own.  What is fundamental to poetry’s reality is its status as distinctly other than the physical world that we inhabit.  Theology however, makes distinctly historical claims in its own narration of the world.  Theology does not merely encode an alternative semiotic world to question, interrogate, or illumine the empirical world of sense perception. 

Rather theology seeks to interrupt the real world with the Real World revealed in Jesus’ history.  It is this Reality that theology proclaims to be actualized in the history of Jesus.  As such, theology’s poeticity does not consist of it suspension of of the historical; rather its historicity is the very condition of theology’s particular poetic character.  It is in the Reality of Christ’s history to which theology witnesses that the poetic dimensions of human imagination find their telos and fullness.  “The radical dialectical antitheses of Christian faith, of incarnation and Trinity, personally made manifest to us in the hypostatic union, are the consummation, overflow, and ‘passion’ of human existence itself, accomplished in every form of human feeling, thinking, and speaking.”

Author’s Best Books?

We all have our favorite authors and our favorite books by them.  So, if we could recommend just one book by our favorite authors, what would they be?  Here are a few of mine:

  • John Howard Yoder - The Priestly Kingdom
  • Lesslie Newbigin - Household of God
  • Stanley Hauerwas - The Peaceable Kingdom
  • Robert Jenson - Systematic Theology: The Triune God
  • Hans Urs von Balthasar - Love Alone is Credible
  • Dietrich Bonhoeffer - Discipleship

What are some of the one-book recomendations that you would make from your favorite authors.  And please don’t feel like you need only specify theological authors.  What are the best of your favorites?

Interruption and Ascension

“The Eucharistic body…mediates to us Christ’s current or ascended embodiment liturgically and cosmically, under the accent of the divinity and new creation.  Communion replicates in objective reality the communion we have with him non-objectifably through the Spirit.  The bodies of those in need, in whom Christ is present to us…mediate the ascended body under the accent of its humanity and particularity: that which is shared with us. …Through the primary ecclesial mediations, the one liturgical and the other caritative, and all their analogues, the ascended body always retains the power to ‘disrupt us’…pushing urgently and disruptively into the ‘everyday’ of our ordinary lives.  And this disruption too is a way in which the ascended body claims us for its own.  In Church, in its most fundamental dimension, we are taken up into the urgency of love which is the Father’s own presence to the Son, and which defines his bodily existence for us as itself sending and self-giving: made real for us by the Spirit in the actuality of our sensible living.  And so we too, as another fundamental sign of the Church, become, without ever being able to see it for ourselves, a further mirroring or mediation of that ascended body: and a new realization for others of the unfolding creativity of its divine life.”

–Oliver Davies, “The Interrupted Body”, in Transformation Theology: Church in the World, Oliver Davies, Paul Janz, and Clemens Sedmak, eds. (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2007), 56-57.

The Church’s Language

“The church exists for the world, but it renews its identity when it gathers for worship.  It speaks in the world, but it learns its ‘distinctive talk’ when its members come together around word and sacrament.  Worship is often misconceived as a series of special ceremonies which are intended for the edification of the individual believer.  Yet baptism is not an episode of private initiation but an action involving the entire church.  Confession is not a formula for personal remorse but a moment in the ongoing mutual admonition and absolution of the brothers and sisters.  Eucharist is not a ritual following the sermon from which one may excuse oneself, but the community’s meal with the risen Lord.  Doxology is not a hymn to be sung but a life to be lived.  Preaching is not a virtuoso performance but the language of the church that accompanies the laborious formation of a new people.”

–Richard Lischer, A Theology of Preaching: The Dynamics of the Gospel (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2001), 78-79.

Moral Certitude, Martyrdom, and Hope

I sometimes wonder about the statements of conviction we make.  I’m firm believer in making very few commitments quickly while making damn sure you always keep the ones you do make.  But absolute statements, declarations, and manifestos are some of the most easy things to say.  They role right off the tongue and theological books are full of them.  For example, I offer this statement:

I would rather die than end up unfaithful to my wife; I would rather die than deny by a profligate life what I have taught in my books; I would rather die than deny or disown the gospel. (D. A. Carson, How Long, O Lord? Reflections on Suffering and Evil [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1990], 120).

Based on this, I think only two conclusions about D.A. Carson are possible.  Either he is far more mature as a Christian and a person than I shall likely ever be (which is certainly possible) or he is just making sentimental statements that make for well-selling evangelical devotional books (which, I think may also be possible, but I hope, less likely).

Now I’ll just be honest here, I would damn well rather cheat on my wife and deal with the horror that would unfold from that than get killed.  Certainly I know that wouldn’t be a moral act in any sense, but I know good and well that if someone put a gun to my head and presented me with that alternative that I’d most likely cave.  Maybe I’m underestimating the power of my own affections here, but I don’t think so.  I’d certainly rather live at variance from my writings than cease to live.  Disown the gospel?  I think on something that stark I might have a chance, but for all I know I’d end up going through a series of denials and recantations not unlike the Anabaptist martyr Balthasar Hubmaier.

Now certainly I agree that in all of the examples that Carson offers I agree that we should rather die than give in to such forms of sin and compromise.  And maybe Carson has had experiences in which these convictions have been tested.  I have not and as such I feel very uncomfortable making statements about myself with such boldness.  I fear such statements tends very quickly towards bravado and reflect a sort of fanciful self-construction.  Or at least I know that that’s what I’d be doing if I made those statements.

Do we not end up conjuring up notions of our own indefectability with statements like this?  We seem to implicitly claim to have come to some sort of indubitable self-knowledge and are certain that we are the kind of persons who above all would never do this.  Is not the message of the gospel often that we will indeed do exactly this?  Does not the message of gospel constantly remind us that we are the betrayers of the truth?  Statements of the sort that Carson makes seem to bear within themselves a grammar that is inappropriate to the whole discourse of Christian discipleship.  To say something like “I would rather die than deny the gospel” is often really saying “I am a person who cannot be shaken and I know it.”  Such statements sound far too bold for me.  “Even if everyone else deserts you, I will never desert you!”

I for one am terrified of death and can’t stand acute pain in the least. (People, if the persecution starts you all need to go into hiding immediately.  I am going to break fast if the torture starts.)  I have no confidence in my ability to become a faithful martyr of the Christian confession.  I cannot imagine writing down in a book that I would rather die than disown the gospel.  I do not find the resources of moral certainty in myself that Carson seems to find within (Let me emphasize, I hesitate to impute duplicity to him; I just know what those lines would mean if I were to write them).  If I were to make statements about my own moral resolve on the basis of the gospel I don’t know any other way to state them than in the interrogative:  “Can these dry bones live?”

I wonder if a truly biblical spirituality should perhaps avoid the indicative mood altogether?  The indicative makes statements about the reality of the present, but the faith of the resurrection is premised on the horror of the past and the promise of the future fracturing the givenness of the present and suffusing it with apocalyptic hope.  A faith that lives between promise and hope exists in the linguistic mode of supplication, of trembling, of desperate hope in the future of the one who has promised that his Life will be the end of all things.  We are called, not into moral certitude and self-confidence in our development as Christians, but rather to the wild patience of those who follow one who always remains beyond our grasp.

We must begin, not with an assertion of our own indefectability, however well-founded our confidence might be.  The mystery of salvation includes the claim that those closest to Jesus often refuse to be found alongside him in his sufferings.  We must begin, rather in the assertion of our radical defectability.  Only then can we embrace the hope that lies precisely outside of ourselves in Christ and the promise of his apocalypse.  “If we are faithless he remains faithful, for he cannot deny himself.”

More on Mark Driscoll

In light of all the discussion about my post on Mark Driscoll (and why his theological beliefs don’t really allow him to worship Jesus), allow me to commend to you a very interesting, and at times painful article by Lauren Sandler that was done on Driscoll and his Seattle-based evangelical empire in Salon magazine.  You may also be interested in her book, Righteous, which is a pretty interesting social ethnography of the contemporary Christian youth culture.

Ecclesiology & Ecumenism: Update

Here is a further-updated list of all my posts on ecclesiology and ecumenism:

The One Movie Meme

Leave it to Ben to start another one of these things.  Oh well, lets have fun with it.

1. One movie that made you laugh
Drowning Mona

2. One movie that made you cry
Pan’s Labyrinth

3. One movie you loved when you were a child

The Karate Kid

4. One movie you’ve seen more than once

The Devil’s Advocate

5. One movie you loved, but were embarrassed to admit it

Bridget Jones’s Diary

6. One movie you hated
Trade

7. One movie that scared you

E.T.

8. One movie that bored you
Gerry

9. One movie that made you happy

The Big Lebowski

10. One movie that made you miserable

The Cider House Rules

11. One movie you weren’t brave enough to see

The Passion of the Christ

12. One movie character you’ve fallen in love with

Dorothy Boyd (Renée Zellweger in Jerry Maguire)

13. The last movie you saw

Walk Hard (There’s a bit of shame in admitting that one)

14. The next movie you hope to see

Pineapple Express

15. Now tag five people:
David, Adam, Eric, Christian, and David.