The head of the British Army has said the presence of UK armed forces in Iraq “exacerbates the security problems”.
In an interview in the Daily Mail, Sir Richard Dannatt, Chief of the General Staff, is quoted as saying the British should “get out some time soon”.
Uriesou Brito links to a brief article from Alexander Schmemann on his new blog. The following is a brief quote from Schmemann’s article:—
As a general rule, children like attending Church, and this instinctive attraction to and interest in Church services is the foundation on which we must build our religious education. When parents worry that children will get tired because services are long and are sorry for them, they usually subconsciously express their concern not for their children but for themselves. Children penetrate more easily than do adults into the world of ritual, of liturgical symbolism. They feel and appreciate the atmosphere of our Church services. The experience of Holiness, the sense of encounter with Someone Who is beyond daily life, that mysterium tremendum that is at the root of all religion and is the core of our services is more accessible to our children than it is to us. “Except ye become as little children,” these words apply to the receptivity, the open-mindedness, the naturalness, which we lose when we grow out of childhood. How many men have devoted their lives to the service of God and consecrated themselves to the Church because from childhood they have kept their love for the house of worship and the joy of liturgical experience! Therefore, the first duty of parents and educators is to “suffer little children and forbid them not” (Matt. 19:14) to attend Church. It is in Church before every place else that children must hear the word of God. In a classroom the word is difficult to understand, it remains abstract, but in church it is in its own element. In childhood we have the capacity to understand, not intellectually, but with our whole being, that there is no greater joy on earth than to be in Church, to participate in Church services, to breathe the fragrance of the Kingdom of Heaven, which is “the joy and peace of the Holy Spirit.”
Of course, all of this presupposes the rich liturgy of Orthodox worship. The claim that the worship of the Church is the place where the Word of God is in ‘its own element’ is simple yet profound. The common idea that our encounter with the Word of God is primarily about reading the text of the Bible, enclosed between two covers, falls far short of the reality of Christian engagement with Scripture for so many reasons.
The story of the Scriptures is a story of progressive incarnation. When the Word becomes flesh He does not merely take a body created out nothing, but a body that has been being prepared for Him since the beginning of creation. He does not merely come as a generic individual human being, but as one who takes the flesh of Israel as has own. The Word does not merely take a biological and Adamic body to Himself, but, as the Messiah, He takes a particular body politic also. This body politic had been formed by the spoken Word of God in successive stages, something that Douglas Knight helpfully compares to the gradual assembling of computer circuitry. The rituals and ceremonies of the OT Law, the worship of the psalms, the structures of the Tabernacle and the Temple: all of these are ways in which God prepares a body for His Son.
The Scriptures create a world through story, symbol, ritual and worship, a world that the people of God are called to live out of. God’s world does not come all at once, but is gradually moulded and developed over time. The Word of God in Scripture is a world-creating Word, no less than the Word of God in Genesis 1. Unfortunately, if our encounter with the Word of God is limited to reading a book the idea that the Scripture creates a world (indeed, is a world) seems a bit far-fetched.
Within the new covenant there is a movement beyond inscription of the Word to incarnation of the Word, not just in Christ, but in the Church, which lives out of Christ’s humanity. This should decisively shape our understanding of the relationship between the Scripture and the ethical life of the Christian community. In the various OT prophecies of the new covenant, great emphasis is put on the fact that the Law of God will now be written on the heart, and not merely on tablets of stone. The initially ‘external’ Law will gradually be consumed into the life of the community until there is no remainder.
In the old covenant the people of God had the tablets of stone at their heart. The new covenant people of God are reconstituted around the risen Christ—the Heart of Flesh. At Pentecost, with the gift of the Spirit, the Church grows out of the resurrected humanity of the Word, as the totus Christus. The telos of Scripture is such incarnation, making us participants in the life of Christ. The Word now indwells us in a living form, by the Spirit. In the OT the Word of God formed the world that the people of God inhabited; in the NT the Word of God is the world that the people of God embody in Christ.
The fact that the transformed community—the totus Christus—is the telos of the text determines our hermeneutical posture. The text can only be properly understood when it is related to this telos. True interpretation of the text both presupposes and results in moral transformation. There is no division between hermeneutics and ethics. The renewed community helps us to read the text properly and the text reads us into the renewed community. The Scriptures can only be properly understood from within the community of faith, in the context of their public performance; outside of the community of faith the text has a veil over it.
This is one of the reasons why the proper context of Scripture reading and study is the life of the Church. Far too much Protestant worship is even less ‘incarnational’ than OT worship. When we read the Scripture we are giving voice to the life that we embody in Christ. The world and the Word that creates and gives voice to that world are mutually interpretative. Reading the Bible apart from the context of the Church is like reading a book describing an alien world. No matter how wise and learned you are, you will know less of this world than a simple child who has lived in this world for a few years (this illustration originates with T.F. Torrance, if I remember correctly), even if they have no idea of the science of their world.
As people reject the sacramental life and community of discipleship of the Church the Scriptures will become darkened to them, a fog of obscure teachings. This is one of the reasons why I continually stress the importance of encountering the Scriptures, not primarily as ‘the Bible’, but as the texts which form the life of the Church through their performance in the liturgy, sacrament and proclamation and as the Word that we embody in Christ.
Let me give just one small example of how this connection between the Church as world and the Scriptures as the Word of that world can empower the proclamation of the Word to a young child. I still remember from my childhood occasionally attending the local Church of Ireland around Christmas time. The thing that really spoke to me was the Church calendar and Advent in particular. I had heard the story of Christmas many times before, but in the worship of Advent and the various readings running up to Christmas I began to live in the story. I began to hear the story as a story of hope, remembrance and anticipation, a story in which I was personally involved. I was feeling hope and anticipation; I was not merely reading about hope and anticipation. The Christmas story opened up to me as never before. I reread the story from within, as it were. Reading from within: this is what Christian encounter with the Scriptures is all about.
Chris Tilling’s post should settle this question once and for all. Chief among the reason for my studying in the University of St. Andrews is the privilege of travelling in the slipstream of brilliant exegetes such as Chris.
Election is one of the issues that I continually return to. On my computer I have well over one hundred thousand words that I have written on the subject of election at some stage or other (from discussion lists, e-mails, personal notes, unposted blog posts, etc.). Unfortunately there is so much material that I just can’t bring myself to put it all together into some sort of coherent whole. Every once in a while I will just drop some thoughts on the subject, drawing on some of the material that I have amassed on the matter (some of you will have already seen this material at some time or other).
This time my thoughts are on the subject of election in John’s gospel. John’s gospel has a rich seam of ‘prooftexts’ for a view of election that sees God as eternally electing particular individuals and ensuring that they will never apostatize. Over the past few years I have become convinced that a close reading of John’s gospel itself just will not support the theology of election that has been drawn from these prooftexts.
John presents us with a theology in which everyone who genuinely comes to Christ comes because the Father has given that person to Christ. They are given by means of the Father’s sovereign work in drawing the person, not because the Father foresaw the person’s own individual decision. Christ will not turn away or cast out any who are given to Him by the Father.
All of those who have been entrusted to Christ’s care by the Father — head for head — will be raised up on the last day. Christ is the good Shepherd. He lays down His life for the sheep. He will not allow anyone to snatch the sheep from His hands. He will go off in search of the wanderer in order to bring that one back to Himself. Even when the sheep are to be scattered, He will pray for those entrusted to His care that their faith would not fail.
These words teach us that, as long as our lives are in Christ’s hands, we are as safe as we could be. However, these verses are part of a bigger picture in which the Father does not merely give people into the care of His Son but also removes people from the care of His Son. The teaching of John 6:37ff often seems to be held at the expense of the teaching of such passages as John 15:1ff.
John 15:1-2 teaches us that the Father (the vinedresser) takes away from Christ (the vine) branches that consistently fail to bear fruit. Whilst there is good reason to believe that the Father is patient in this process and generally waits for some time before removing a branch, we cannot deny that branches that have been ‘in Christ’ are genuinely removed.
How does this fit in with the teaching of passages such as John 6:37ff.? It is not that difficult to reconcile the teaching of these different passages when we step back from certain assumptions. For example, John’s gospel does not give support to the idea that the Father’s giving of people to Christ is something that takes place in ‘eternity past’. The Father’s giving of people to Christ is an occurrence in human history.
How then do we reconcile the teaching of these different passages? The Father is the One who entrusts people to His Son; the Father is also the One who removes people from His Son’s care. Christ does not lose anyone who has been entrusted to Him by the Father. No one snatches these people from the Son’s hands. It is not the Father’s will that any person He has entrusted to the Son should be lost and the Son does not fail to fulfil this. He guards, preserves and prays for all of those who have been given to Him by the Father. However, the fact that the Father can remove people from Christ’s care should never be forgotten. It is not Christ who removes people from the vine, but the Father, the vinedresser.
This is a robustly ‘ecclesial’ doctrine of election. Those who have been given to Christ by the Father are not the elect from eternity past (presuming, for the sake of argument, that such a group even exists) but those who have been brought into union with Christ in history. Amongst this number there are those who will not persevere in union with Christ and will be removed by the Father. When Christ lays down His life for the sheep He is not laying down His life for the elect from eternity past. Rather, He dies for those who have been given to Him by the Father. This group is the Church, understood as the community of disciples, to which more will be added in the future and others removed.
The group of those that have been given to Christ by the Father is not a static and unchanging number. This is implied in a number of different places. For example, in John 17:20 we see an implied contrast between the ones who have been given to Christ by the Father and those who will believe on Christ through their word (perhaps implying that they are yet to be given to Christ by the Father).
I believe that the Johannine picture of election is far more complex than that which many people hold and many others react to. As Peter Leithart points out, the Johannine picture of election is one in which apostates are just as chosen as anyone else. The Johannine doctrine of election is one in which Judas is just as much one ‘given’ to Jesus by the Father as John himself is (John 17:12).
James Jordan has argued that the Scriptures teach two resurrections and justifications. The final justification is a justification that includes the person’s works and is only possible once the first justification has taken place. We cannot do any good works until the initial justification has taken place. In support of this notion Jordan cites Numbers 19. In Numbers 19, when a person has become contaminated through contact with a corpse, they go through two stages of purification. They are purified on the third day and on the seventh day their purification is completed with a final purification and baptism (quite possibly the ‘baptism for the dead’ referred to in 1 Corinthians 15; certainly the most likely contender in my estimation).
Most contemporary Christians would believe that such a passage is far too obscure to play any role in our doctrine of justification and that Paul’s theology never could have been informed by such a thing. This is the natural response for Protestants, who have very little time for liturgy. The assumption is that the ‘Bible’ is the only place where God’s revelation of saving truths is to be found. There are a number of problems with this notion. Chief among them is the fact that what we call the ‘Bible’ is a relatively recent creation. The people of God of previous ages encountered the Scriptures in the form of liturgical performance not as we do, by reading words off the pages of our mass-produced, privately-owned Bibles. It should not surprise us that, approaching the Scriptures as they do, most modern Christians make little sense out of it.
Once we appreciate this, we will need to reweight the significance of different parts of the Scriptures. The book of Leviticus, for example, is one of the most important books in the OT canon. Obscure as it may seem to us, the book of Leviticus shaped the daily worship of Israel. You will not really understand books like Romans until you have grasped something of the message of Leviticus.
Numbers 19 is a good example of a text that seems insignificant to us, but would have been many times more significant to an Israelite. In a time of higher mortality, when death was not something that took place away from the context of life in modern hospital wards, people would be far more likely to come into contact with corpses. The Israelite who came in contact with a corpse would have to go through the week long ritual of Numbers 19. Living out such a biblical text for a week’s period of time at a moment that was most probably one of profound personal transition following the death of a friend or relative would likely cause Numbers 19 to leave a far deeper impression on your consciousness than it does for the modern reader of the book of Numbers. One would not regard Numbers 19 as an obscure text.
Numbers 19 presents us with a baptismal resurrection. The person who has become unclean through contact with a corpse is separated from the realm of fellowship with God and is symbolically dead as a consequence of his contact with the dead body. They are only restored to the life of fellowship with God through a baptism.
Jordan insists that the ‘resurrection’ of the third day, whilst analogous to the ‘resurrection’ of the seventh day, is a distinct event. It does not ‘participate’ in the resurrection of the seventh day. The third day justification is not a case of the seventh day justification being brought forward into the present. Nor, for that matter, is the seventh day justification merely a reiteration, recognition or validation of the third day justification.
Jordan argues that Jesus’ original hearers would have heard the background of Numbers 19 when Jesus claimed that He would be raised on the third day. They would not have believed that there was only one resurrection awaiting them in the future (or, if they did, they shouldn’t have). Rather, they would have expected two resurrections, an initial one and a later final and consummative one. The NT teaching of two resurrections in such places as John 5 and Revelation 20 was not, therefore, a theological novelty (whilst Jordan does not believe that the first resurrection in these passages refers to quite the same thing, they can be seen as evidence for his basic point). There is an initial resurrection, followed by a later, final resurrection.
The pattern of two justifications is something that Jordan does not merely see in Numbers 19. One can also see this pattern in the sacrifices of Israel as the tribute/memorial offering, in which human works can be presented to and accepted by God on the basis of the earlier sacrifices. One can see it in Christian worship in the relationship between Baptism, which is initial justification, and the Eucharist, which foreshadows final justification in which our works are taken into account (symbolically presented to God in the bringing forward of the bread and the wine and own offerings in the offertory).
Jordan contrasts his position to that of N.T. Wright, claiming that Wright shares the same error as most Reformed approaches, which presume that justification is one event. Whilst most Reformed approaches see final justification merely as a reiteration of present justification, Wright errs by seeing present justification as being based on the bringing forward of future justification through the work of Christ. As Wright argues, what the Jews had expected to take place at the end of history had taken place in the middle of history in the case of one Person.
I have yet to be convinced that Jordan’s position is as far removed from Wright’s position as he generally presents it to be. Jordan claims that Wright holds to only one justification and that he holds to two, the first apart from works and the second including the person with all of his works. Jordan presents Wright as holding to a position in which God plays games with time, by bringing the future into the present.
I believe that this a misleading way to portray Wright’s position. Wright’s position is rather that the single future event of justification has taken place ahead of time in the case of one Person. There is no monkeying with time here. On the basis of this ‘bringing forward’ of the event of justification we can enjoy a present justification on the basis of faith, the positive verdict corresponding with a later verdict on the last day that will be delivered on the basis of the whole life lived.
The point where Wright might seem to be suggesting that God is tinkering with time is better understood as a claim that the future event is already present in principle — or in embryo — in the case of Jesus Christ and that we participate in an event that awaits us in the future as we are united to Jesus Christ. There is a single event of justification, which has different stages to it. There are not ultimately two separate justifications, but two phases of the one justification. This, it seems to me, is perfectly biblical as well. If justification is to be seen in the event of the resurrection of the dead, then it seems that we have to acknowledge that we are talking about a single event with different stages, not two separate events. Christ is the firstfruits of the event, which for us largely awaits us in the future. This future event is truly anticipated as we are united to Christ in Baptism. I think that Wright is correct to hold that there is ultimately only one justification, with plurality to be found within it. I also believe that his claim that the end of history has taken place in the middle of history is essentially true, provided that we add the proper qualifications and do not presume a meddling with time on God’s part.
On the other hand, it seems to me that Jordan is perfectly right to claim that there are plenty of OT reasons to argue that justification was not regarded as a single event awaiting Israel at one point at the end of history (although I would like to see some evidence from extra-canonical Second Temple Jewish texts that people actually held what Jordan argues is the OT position). A plurality of phases to the one justification was not a surprising development of OT belief in the NT, but was anticipated in many and varied ways in the OT text. Wright is wrong to see a two-stage justification as a teaching peculiar to the NT.
The weight of Wright’s understanding of justification is placed on a single event of justification, which, surprisingly (in the light of Christ’s resurrection), has two separate phases. The weight of common Reformed understandings of justification seems to be placed on a single event of justification that takes place by faith on the basis of the death and resurrection of Christ and will be reiterated in the future. Wright disagrees with such a position in its failure to give proper weight to a future justification on the basis of the whole life lived as essential to the single event of justification.
I believe that Wright would take issue with Jordan’s position in other ways. I imagine that he would argue that Jordan detaches the two phases of justification too sharply. Rather than seeing the future justification as already having occurred in principle but yet to be fully realized in our cases, Jordan’s position sometimes seems to present justification in the present as an event to which a future event must be added. It is the idea of future justification as the addition of a new justification separate from the present justification that Wright would take issue with. Future justification for Wright is rather the consummation of the single event that is already present in embryo through the resurrection of Christ. It is a distinct phase of the single event, but the event itself cannot be split into two events.
I believe that both Jordan and Wright have important things to teach us here. I believe that Jordan’s treatment of OT evidence is helpful and can serve to counteract some of the weaknesses of Wright’s position on that front. Jordan’s position is also useful in counteracting the weak view of the final judgment in relation to justification that one finds in many Reformed contexts. Whilst I believe that his stress on two events of justification goes a little too far, the idea of justification having two distinct — albeit closely interrelated — phases is very helpful and can help to balance Wright out a bit.
On the other hand, I think that Wright is correct to teach the unity of justification. Present justification by faith is an accurate anticipation of future justification according to works and is in many senses a bringing forward of the final verdict. Although the fullness of the event of resurrection and justification await us in the future, this will involve conforming to what has already become true of Christ. For that reason, the resurrection of the ‘seventh day’ is already anticipated in the resurrection of the ‘third day’. Wright also clearly distinguishes present justification from final justification, even whilst closely interrelating them.
I think that some questions remain for Wright’s position, that could be helped by some of the emphases that one find in Jordan. Wright helpfully sees the future verdict of final justification as being present in the vindication of Christ in His resurrection. Jordan does not like any “already/not yet” approach to understanding redemptive history that would suggest that the future comes into the present in Christ, or anything like that. “Already/not yet” for Jordan is understood in terms of a linear timeline in which the future breaking into the present has little place.
I do not share Jordan’s position on this matter and believe that a purely linear account of redemptive history is insufficient. However, I believe that a linear approach to redemptive history is an essential perspective that must be retained and is too easily neglected. Without denying that the future has in some sense arrived in the present, we can see redemptive history as a continuing progression with stages that have yet to take place.
However, and this point is crucial, redemptive history can truly be viewed, not so much a progression beyond Christ’s resurrection, as a progression into Christ’s resurrection (I am not sure that Wright does justice to this either). This is where the “already/not yet” approach has so much to offer us. History is cyclical as well as linear. History is taken up in the resurrected Christ. What awaits us in the future is a full entry into something that has already taken place. This full entry will involve new redemptive historical events, but there is an important sense in which these events are not events that involve any progression beyond what has already taken place in Christ. It is this point that Jordan fails to do full justice to, whilst presenting us with the oft-forgotten perspective in which redemptive history involves a genuine progression beyond the resurrection.
There are so many uses for the invention that won this competition. Where does one get one?
It is amazing how petty some arguments can get when you are really close to someone. I quite relate to this web page. There are some mannerisms and habits that can get absolutely infuriating when you are around them for long enough. It is really only my brothers who have this effect on me. In the case of Mark, it is his habit of picking leaves off bushes and hedges as he walks down the street. For some reason, this habit irritates me immensely and, what is worse, Mark likes to irritate me as much as possible, so he gives his habit full rein when I am around. In Peter’s case it is his inability to walk into my room back home without beginning to fiddle mindlessly with the first thing that his fingers settle upon. He doesn’t even realize that he is doing it.
Over the last few days Peter Leithart has posted two posts that have really resonated with issues that I have been thinking about of late. The following are some extensive thoughts sparked off by Leithart’s own comments. Continue reading
Does anyone have any thoughts on a possible connection between Jacob’s wrestling with God in Genesis 32 and the events surrounding the crucifixion? The following are some tentative suggestions. Jesus and His Father wrestle in the darkness of Good Friday before God finally reveals His face to His Son (Psalm 22:24). It is in the event of wrestling with His Father that Jesus attains to true maturity (Hebrews 5:7-9), as Jacob does through wrestling with God. Through the success of His wrestling with God Jesus inherits a new name, the name that is above every name (Philippians 2:8-11), much as Jacob becomes Israel. Jesus dies as Israel, a prince with God, the King of the Jews, and rises as the One whose name is above all other names. Prior to the wrestling, both Jacob and Jesus encounter angels (Genesis 32:1-2; Luke 22:43). Following the wrestling both Jesus and Jacob are reconciled with their brothers (Genesis 33; John 20:17).
Jacob’s story fits into the pattern, already seen in the Abraham story of encounters with God as friend (at Bethel in Genesis 28 in the case of Jacob) followed by an encounter with God as ‘enemy’ (with the command to kill Isaac in the case of Abraham). We see a similar pattern in the story of Jesus: in His Baptism and the transfiguration, God’s favourable presence is manifested to Jesus; at Calvary the heavens are darkened and Jesus cries out in dereliction. Jacob receives a leg wound in his wrestling with God; Jesus receives wounds in His hands, feet and side and His heel is bruised (cf. Genesis 3:15).
In both accounts the activity of the sun is significant. In the Jacob story the sun set as Jacob left in chapter 28. It is next mentioned as it rises on him after he has finished wrestling with God in chapter 32. The sun is darkened over Jesus on the cross (Mark 15:33). However, the sun rises at the resurrection (Mark 16:2). As in the case of the story of Jacob, the whole interim period is symbolically one of darkness.
If we can speak of Jesus’ experience as one of wrestling and prevailing with God like Jacob, we can also regard Jacob’s experience of one of death and resurrection like Jesus. The darkness to light movement lends support to this, as does the fact that Jacob’s wrestling with God leads to his attaining to new maturity. Jacob is also given the name — Israel — that will mark him out as a father of God’s people, much as Jesus is marked out as the head of the new family of God’s people by the name that He inherits. After his death-resurrection experience, Jacob soon moves from centre stage in the narrative. This happens in the case of Abraham following his encounter with God as enemy in Genesis 22. It also happens following Jesus’ resurrection; the Church takes the centre stage following the resurrection. [Interestingly, it also happens in the case of Peter in Acts 12 where — this is undoubtedly significant — Peter is struck by an angel who then ‘raises him up’ (Acts 12:7). Following this event Peter no longer occupies the centre stage that he had occupied to that point.]
It would be interesting if a parallel between Jacob and Jesus could be sustained at this point. It would give strength to the thesis that Jesus is presented as the founder of a (re)new(ed) Israel. It would also present us with a different narrative approach to help us to understand the cross, an avenue of interpretation that may not yet have been explored. I am strongly of the opinion that typology has much to teach us about the meaning of the atonement if we would only listen carefully to it. Of course, this demands that we focus on the fine details of the gospel narratives of the cross, treating the gospel narratives as theological accounts, and not merely forming our theology from isolated ‘atonement texts’. I am rapidly moving towards the position that the gospels teach us far more about the meaning of the cross than the epistles do.
Can anyone else add anything to this? Any further thoughts would be appreciated.
n. pl.
A miscellaneous collection of notes, remarks, or selections.
Alastair's Adversaria 