How to be a Popular Blogger (by someone who isn’t)

Rachel Held Evans, one of the best conversation-starting bloggers out there, has posted on the subject of blog traffic and how to become a popular blogger. This is a subject that has interested me for some time, and I thought that I might post a few thoughts of my own on the subject.

I have been blogging on and off (generally on) since about 2003, and was following and engaging with blogs long before then. I have never had a huge following, nor have I courted one. However, I do have a very committed following: a significant number of my followers have been following me since I first began blogging. My daily hits are generally somewhere in the region of 200-1000.

I blog primarily as an aid to thinking through subjects – I think by writing down my thoughts – and secondarily to engage with my core audience. However, as I blog in several different styles, on numerous different subjects, it is interesting to observe the varying reactions to different posts. Sometimes a post will be spread widely on Facebook and Twitter and bring in a large audience for a few days, hardly any of whom stay to engage with future posts. Experience has taught me that it is easy to double my hits when I blog on particular subjects or in particular styles.

Watching other people’s blogs, and blogging myself, the following are the general things that I think mark out the most popular blogs from the rest of us:

1. Consistency, Predictability, and Reliability. The most popular bloggers blog regularly and consistently. It may not be daily, it might even be once a week, but you usually know when to expect something from them. The most popular bloggers also have a fairly clear and representative stance on a range of issues, and will generally fall down fairly clearly on one side or another of particular debates. In this way popular bloggers come to stand for particular positions in ongoing debates and discussions. Audiences like bloggers who are thought-provoking and stimulating, but who don’t throw them too many curve balls. If your audience feels betrayed by you, they won’t stick around.

The most popular bloggers also tend to show consistency in their post’s characteristics of style and length. Their blogs usually have a relatively well defined range of subject matter. People will read a particular blog for exegetical insight, another for observations about the life and character of the church and popular and relevant theological commentary, and yet another for deep theological commentary or creative writing. If you want a committed audience, it might be worth focusing your output, and not try to write about everything in the same place.

2. Engagement. The most popular bloggers engage with live issues, news, and debates that are widely relevant and topical. They make good use of social media to publicize their posts, often linking the same post three or four times. The most popular bloggers engage heavily with other popular bloggers and tend to publicize other people by having them as guests, or promoting their work. They encourage an engaged audience by posting things that are designed to spark conversation and facilitating that conversation with active comment sections. In other words, the most popular bloggers are people who are gifted conversation starters and formers, generous in making space for others, and not monologuers. They may not necessarily be the most stimulating voices in their own right, but the conversations that they create tend to be the liveliest. Most of the hits on a blog will come for the conversation that follows the post, not the post itself: one only needs to read the original post once, but the conversation constantly continues. Engagement is about creating a place for other people to say things, which generally means saying less yourself. It also means that, while responding to other people’s comments is great, the most popular bloggers tend to be fairly sparing on this front. They are trying to keep a good conversation going, not have the final or definitive word.

3. Emotion. This is perhaps the most important thing of all. The most popular bloggers write on subjects about which people feel strongly. They have an emotionally aroused readership. The primary criterion of sharing and engagement is the evoking of an elevated emotional response (sadness or contentment don’t really work in this regard). It doesn’t matter how much you make your readers think if you can’t make them feel. In my experience, by far the most popular and widely shared posts on my blogs have been the ones that provoke feelings of excited agreement (often coloured by moral or intellectual superiority – we never feel so right as when another party is so wrong), anger, a eureka moment, outrage, joy, shock, slam-dunk point-scoring over others, etc. In several cases, these have been posts of which I have been quite ashamed, more rants than careful and thoughtful responses, which leads to our next point…

The Pitfalls and Benefits of Popularity

Looking at these criteria for popularity, it seems to me that popularity has its dangers and pitfalls. The behaviours that bring popularity are not always the ones that will bring out the best in you as a thinker, a writer, and, most importantly, as a Christian. Seeking to be popular can lead you to conform to your principal audience, tickling their prejudices, failing to address issues that might polarize or alienate them, and losing integrity in the process. Seeking to be popular can lead you to focus on controversy and outrage in a manner that is reactive and unhelpful. Seeking to be popular can lead you to start conversations that are unedifying and fail to take a principled stand on certain issues in a way that would end conversations.

On the other hand, seeking to write a popular blog can encourage a generosity of spirit and speech, whereby you create space for other people to speak and to share. It can teach you self-control, learning when to be quiet or stop writing and leave words unsaid for the sake of others, resisting the urge to have the final word. It can teach you the art of conversation starting and hosting. Seeking to write a popular blog can make you a more engaged and receptive person, someone actively listening and responding to a range of valued interlocutors. It can make you more consistent and considered in your writing style. It can attune you to the issues about which people care and feel strongly.

The Importance of Knowing Why You are Blogging

I believe that much comes down to the question of why you are blogging in the first place. If engaging with a large audience and with issues that a wide readership cares about is a primary goal for you, then it is worth considering how to be more popular. If you believe that you can start conversations worth having, resist the pitfalls of popularity, edify many, and encourage mature engagement, popularity is worth pursuing. However, popularity is not necessarily a worthy end in itself. Much depends upon how you handle it.

If you blog primarily as an aid to your own thinking processes, or for a small and clearly defined core audience, seeking popularity would most likely hinder your chief aims, rather than help them. Consistency, predictability, and regularity can be constraining and unhelpful, and it may not be worth sacrificing the benefits of greater freedom in these areas for the sake of a larger audience.

The potential influence of your writing should also not be confused with the number of hits that you receive. Thought leadership is quite hierarchical. The most significant writers are often read only by a small readership. The most important minds in the world are usually people who are unknown to the general public, while public intellectuals can often be lightweights, lacking great influence within their own fields. Striving to reach an elite and very informed audience brings different benefits and popularity may not be the most meaningful sort of influence for you to strive for.

As this blog’s primary purpose is that of a thought tool, it is less oriented to a clearly defined audience, whether popular or elite, than many other blogs may be. Of course, I always have an audience – a highly valued one, not least because the audience’s engagement is one of the reasons why this blog helps me think certain issues through so well – in mind as I write, more or less the same audience as has been following me since I first started blogging. However, as my blog is primarily author or subject-driven, rather than audience-driven and having a clear sense of what I want to achieve through my blog, I feel freer to break the supposed ‘rules’, which almost invariably presume that popularity must be the goal of blogging. It ain’t necessarily so.

I would be interested to hear your thoughts on the subject of blogging. What are the key characteristics of your favourite blogs? What do you believe to be the keys to blogging popularity? If you blog, why do you blog? Is your blog primarily audience, author, or subject-driven? Or is it driven by something else?

Posted in The Blogosphere | 8 Comments

A Better Gospel

In the comments following my previous post on the problems with a particular form of the evangelical gospel presentation, I was asked how I would go about presenting the gospel, and how I would capture some of the core gospel themes for which I argued in my conclusion. Given the importance of this question, I thought that it would be worth reposting and slightly expanding on my remarks here. The gospel should be at the heart of all that we are, do, and think as Christians, so getting it right must be of paramount importance for us. The following thoughts, which are presented in no particular order, are not a gospel presentation itself, but are some pointers to how we might best go about presenting it.

A Multi-faceted Gospel

First, I don’t think in terms of a single gospel presentation. The unity of the gospel does not reside in a particular presentation, logic, or formula, but in God’s gracious self-revealing saving work in Jesus Christ. The gospel is good news to us in innumerable different ways. Different aspects of the good news may be especially important for particular people or cultures at particular times. Rather than trying to force all people through one conveyor belt approach to presenting the gospel, I believe that we need to know the gospel inside out, so that we can improvise our presentation of it in a way that looks each person straight in the eyes, speaking God’s grace in Christ directly into their unique situation. Of course, this demands an intimate acquaintance with the gospel on our part and a profound reliance upon the guidance and work of the Holy Spirit as we bear witness to Christ to each person or context.

For certain people we might tell the gospel as the message of deliverance from the fear of death, loss, and failure and all that that entails. For others the gospel might be the message of a rescue from chaos, whether that is societal, personal, or cosmic. For others, the gospel might be less a message of rescue or deliverance, and more a message of transcendent beauty and joy and of the ultimate affirmation of the goodness of creation. For others, the gospel is the personal message of their value and place in the world and in the sight of God. For others, the gospel is the assurance of meaning and purpose in human life and action. For others, the gospel is the message of forgiveness for past sins, the overcoming of present ones, and deliverance from crippling personal and cultural guilt. For others, the gospel is the message of the liberation of the oppressed and the defeat of all tyrants. For others, the gospel is the message of the overcoming of all human divisions, the bringing together of all ethnicities, people groups, male and female, the generations, etc. The gospel is all of these things – and much more besides – for all of us, of course, but we may need to accent different dimensions of the message in particular times and places.

A Story, Not a Formula

Second, I would focus upon telling a story, rather than explaining some logic or formula. In the video in my previous post, much of the presentation consists of supposed logical demands of justice, which cannot actually be found on the pages of Scripture itself, and which are alien to much that is there. A logical system or a formula is akin to a mechanistic process that we go through. However, such a system cannot capture our hearts and imaginations. Rather than a system or formula, God has given us a drama, a drama which we are taken up within, a drama in which the script becomes embedded and embodied in us in Christ. Unlike a system or formula, this drama radically transforms us as subjects, in our identity, our agency, our subjectivity, and our actions. This drama makes us part of a body of actors in Christ, and reveals the whole creation to be God’s stage.

Most of the Bible is concerned with telling stories, stories within a great Story. Our world has lost its cohesion, its narratability, and all scatter to their private narratives. To this world, God has given a Word, a story, in which all of our disparate plots can become united, in one glorious dénouement. As we learn to tell the gospel as story, we will begin to recognize why the Gospels that God inspired are fundamentally stories. We will also start to appreciate the importance of Israel and the Old Testament within God’s story.

Restorative Justice

Third, God’s love for his creation, his determination not to let sin destroy it, and his commitment to restorative justice, setting to rights all that has gone wrong, would be central. Rather than a stress upon punitive justice, restorative justice would be the dominant theme. God’s justice is about wiping the tears from all eyes, about healing all harms, about repairing all breaches, and righting all wrongs.

God is faithful to his creation and to his people in covenant. The world wasn’t created in a neutral state, related to God purely in terms of absolute justice, but was created in an act of love and in a gracious relationship. Rather than bare and cold justice at the root, creation springs from divine love and gracious gift. God’s creation is one of peace and communion, of growth and fecundity, of joy and laughter, of blessing and provision. God’s justice is about restoring and perfecting this creation, about forming a creation so glorious that it bursts the humble seed casing of this present heavens and earth to burgeon and to bloom eternal.

The Place of Hell

Fourth, hell would have a very different place in the picture that I am suggesting. Rather than being the threat that frames the whole message of good news, hell would be entirely framed by the message of divine love and commitment to restoring creation. The possibility of eternal loss would be presented as something lying in far closer continuity with current dehumanizing patterns of life. In understanding hell, the focus would be on eternal loss as a consequence of rejection of God’s image in ourselves, others, and most particularly in Christ.

Hell would not be presented as being primarily about eternal ‘punishment’ inflicted by God upon the sinner, but about the natural consequences of our erasure of God’s image in ourselves and others. Punishment is an important part of the biblical picture, of course, but far more dominant is loss, separation, and fruitless regret. When hell is spoken of, it would have to be seen as bound up with God’s purpose to set the world to rights. Those who cling to wickedness and oppression and reject God’s good purpose in Christ risk the eternal consequences that result from spurning the source of all life and goodness.

The Perfection of the Creation, Not Just its Salvation

Fifth, God created a world that he desired to grow into the fullness of fellowship with himself. The world is created good, but immature and not yet perfect. The created world is like a toddler that needs to grow up into the fullness of adulthood. Sin throws this development off course and twists it. God’s purpose exceeds overcoming the effects of sin, being designed to bring the creation to its full stature and glory, and to flood it with his presence. This is a key dimension of the gospel message: a perfected and glorified new creation.

Christ at the Heart

Sixth, the purpose of God for creation is Christ. It is in Christ that we see the content of God’s will for us. It is in his communion with the Father, the loving faithfulness of his life, and the resurrection of his body that we see what God has in store for humanity and the creation. It is in Christ that we know the communion between God and the creation that was intended from the start. In presenting the gospel, Christ must always be in the absolute centre of our picture. Anything else is not the gospel.

A Gospel for Flesh and Blood

Seventh, in speaking of the problems of death and alienation, I would root these firmly in our physical existence. The alienation resulting from sin and death is an alienation between human persons, not just between God and the individual soul. It is an alienation that exists between us and our bodies. It is an alienation that exists between bodies. It is an alienation that exists between us and the creation. It is an alienation that is at work within the creation itself. It is not merely a matter of individual sins, but of evil systems and structures that oppress us. It is a matter of nations and powers, of ideologies and systems, of families and communities. Christ came to address all of these things. Christ came to save all of these things. A gospel that throws a lifebuoy to souls, but has nothing to say about the environment, racism, broken families, disabled bodies, wars, and famines is not a gospel that can really save me.

Humanity Made New

Eighth, God’s restoration of his image in man would be presented as integral to the gospel. Sanctification is not merely something that we do out of gratitude, or a work of God of secondary importance, but is integral to God’s purpose and our salvation. To be saved is to have God’s Law written on our hearts and to be conformed to his image. The good news of the gospel is that God has promised to accomplish and perfect this work in us, and that we can receive it by faith, and not as an autonomous work that we must accomplish for ourselves. When we see Christ, we will be like him. Are there many truths that are more exciting than that?

A God Who Welcomes Sinners

Ninth, people will only truly see their sin for what it is when they see Jesus Christ for who he is. Consequently, I would focus a lot less upon drawing people’s attention directly to their sin, and a lot more upon Christ as the Image of God, and the pattern of true humanity. I would present people with God’s overwhelming love, welcome, and salvation. Sin is revealed through this. As we enter into God’s light, we see ourselves for what we really are. However, within this way of presenting the gospel, our sins take on a very different aspect. Christ hasn’t come to condemn us, but to welcome us. As we are overwhelmed by God’s love and welcome, we will become increasingly aware of our sin as something holding us back and tying us down, and will long to be free of it, so that we can run to God with lighter feet. We do not need to feel condemned to bemoan our sin. We must teach a gospel of love and reconciliation, rather than one of condemnation and fear.

A God Who Makes All Things New!

Tenth, within the ‘gospel’ video in my previous post, the resurrection is merely a great miracle to prove that Jesus is God: ‘I rose from the dead to prove that I was God and that everything that I said was true.’ Everything focuses on the cross as a means of paying the price that means that we don’t go to hell. My approach to telling the gospel message would place the accent firmly upon the truth that Christ has risen from the dead, and is Lord of all. Christ’s death is not merely paying the punishment for our sins, but is the assumption of the full weight of death and alienation, so that it might be decisively and definitely overcome. The resurrection is the great victory. It is the exclamation mark of the gospel: ‘Christ is risen! Alleluia!’ It is the assurance and foretaste of God’s purposes for the whole creation. It is the promise that God will make all things new.

This, I believe, is truly good news.

Posted in Bible, Theological | 39 Comments

What’s Wrong With The Evangelical Gospel?

Someone in my Twitter feed linked the video above earlier this evening.

Watching it, I was struck by two things. First, by how baldly and bluntly it presents the underlying narrative of the gospel message that is standard for many evangelical Christians. Second, how troubling, problematic, and flawed this message actually is when you look at it directly.

At the outset, I want to make clear that I regard myself as an evangelical. I have spent all of my life around evangelicals and it is among evangelicals that I believe that I belong. The supremacy and centrality of Jesus Christ, the final authority of God’s Word through the Scriptures, the necessity and efficacy of the atoning work of Christ at Calvary, the imperative of a life-transforming encounter with Jesus Christ, and the absolute gratuity of divine grace are not just truths that I hold, but are non-negotiable touchstones of my entire Christian consciousness. Consequently, in criticizing the video above, and the form of evangelical gospel messages that it represents, I am not seeking either to dismiss or to in any way diminish these core evangelical convictions. It is precisely on account of these convictions that I reject such an approach so strongly. The gospel is so much better, the gospel is so much bigger than this!

A comprehensive critique of the video would take some time. Rather than present such a critique, I would like to make a few brief points by way of criticism of it:

1. Gnostic Dualism

At the very heart of the message of the video lies a gnostic dualism, a dualism between physicality and the soul and the realm of its salvation. From the very outset the video makes clear that it is about the soul going to heaven and not going to hell. Heaven and hell are both treated as realities radically discontinuous with the current physical order, rather than being on a (punctuated) continuity with it. The soul – the ‘real you’ – must be distinguished from the body. The body can be disposed of by burying or by cremation, obviously a matter of complete unimportance as the body is utterly distinct from the soul. Salvation is about the incorporeal destiny of the incorporeal soul. Nothing about resurrection, a new heavens and a new earth, nothing about the way that sin and salvation are inextricable from the life and fate of the body and the physical universe. Nothing at all.

2. Justice vs. Love

The video presents us with an opposition between God’s justice and his love. Justice is presented in a purely punitive manner, as an obstacle to God’s love that must be overcome. The understanding of Law fits into this paradigm. The Law is not seen as a loving, but broken, covenant that God formed with his people, but as an eternal perfect standard of justice that must be met absolutely. The slightest infraction merits an eternity of torment. Justice determines the fundamental relationship that God bears with his creation, not love. Rather than God’s justice being inextricably connected with his loving commitment to his creation, justice comes first and then love comes on the scene as some extrinsic to it. Consequently, justice must be essentially punitive, rather than restorative.

3. The Nature of the Problem

It is hard to avoid the conclusion that the real problem or obstacle that must be overcome in this form of the gospel presentation is not our sin, but some logic of divine justice and holiness. Note, not the incompatibility of God’s holiness and our sin, but the incompatibility of our sin and some logic of divine holiness and justice. Let me explain what I mean. The ‘solution’ to the problem doesn’t really address the reality of sin and evil in human beings and the world at all, but only the legal consequences of human sinfulness. Now, while there are nuanced theological ways to present such a doctrine of justification that adequately avoid the charge of it being a legal fiction, I do not believe that this, or most standard evangelical gospel presentations for that matter, succeed on this front.

That we have some sense of the unsatisfactory nature of the proposed solution (and, by implication, of the entire framing of the problem), can be seen in our instinctive reservations concerning the ‘justice’ of a situation where the punishment and perfect record of one party can simply overwrite the actual sinfulness and guilt of another. Surely the notion that a judge could let a defendant guilty of murder go free on account of the actions of another innocent party in his stead is no less abhorrent to our sense of justice than the notion that a judge could simply forgive such a person. In other words, within this presentation it is as if the actual reality of sin is swept under the carpet of Christ, rather than truly and decisively being dealt with. Persons aren’t transformed save as an afterthought: the work of salvation focuses on bare legal statuses.

4. The ‘Bad News’

This message of the gospel is almost entirely framed in terms of the ‘bad news’, which in turn is framed almost entirely in terms of the legal demands of God’s justice, rather than the alienating reality of Sin. Almost a quarter of the video is devoted to arguing for the existence of Hell. Now, I believe in Hell, but the idea that it should be so fundamental to our presentation of the gospel does not seem biblical to me.

Part of the glory of the gospel is the superabundance of the gift of God, something that exceeds any mere solution to a ‘problem’. Divine love has erupted in our history in a manner that eclipses all of the questions and problems by which we might seek to put a measure to God’s gift. This overflowing excess of grace reveals that the problem of sin is also to be found in the way that this ‘problem’ might serve to frame and place a circumscription upon divine grace as its ‘solution’. Christ encompasses and swallows up our problems – they are lost within him, drowned in the flood of God’s goodness. Christ is never bounded by them as their solution. Indeed, our ‘problems’ only truly appear for what they are in the light of the gospel.

5. The ‘Good News’

The biggest problem with the good news is that it isn’t Jesus. Christ isn’t really the punch line of this gospel, just the one who makes it possible. The punch line of this gospel is that your incorporeal soul can go to heaven. And, given the fact that the ‘bad news’ provides the dominating frame for this message in practice ‘going to heaven’ really means little more than ‘not going to hell’. For this gospel, Jesus is amazing primarily because of all that he has done in saving our souls, not so much because he is God with us in human flesh.

6. Individualism

This ‘gospel’ is individualistic through and through. The church is merely a place where we can hear about how individual souls can be saved, not the new humanity in Christ, or temple of the Holy Spirit. Salvation is about the relationship between God and the individual soul. This gospel has little if anything to say about the restoration of relationships between human beings, about establishing justice and an order of peace. Salvation is something enjoyed by the individual soul in glorious detachment from others, not a new social reality (i.e. a relational and interpersonal reality) outside of us, which we enter into and which operates in and through us.

7. Sanctification

One of the problems with this presentation of the gospel is that sanctification becomes a sort of afterthought, rather than a central thrust of God’s saving work. As the key problem is a legal one, once we have the perfect record of Christ to take the place of our imperfect record, our record actually becomes rather unimportant. Although we are being transformed into the image of Christ, this part of the message is not central to the logic of the gospel, although it may dampen some of the instinctive sense of injustice surrounding the legal fiction that supposedly lies at its heart.

8. What we must do

The key action upon which this gospel hinges is the one in which we turn to God and ask for forgiveness and Christ’s perfect record, and surrender to God, who ‘deserves’ to be the central person in our lives. It is upon this action that salvation finally rests. The ‘gospel’ here is completely framed as the answer to ‘what must I do to be saved?’ The gospel is that God has provided a genuine answer to that question. This is in contrast to the biblical presentation of the gospel, which is not framed in terms of this question, but as the announcement of the once for all action of God in Christ. It is this once for all action upon which the biblical gospel hinges, not our response. Our response is essentially something that occurs in the wake of God’s once for all action.

Concluding Thoughts

There are several other things that I could address within the video, but I believe that I have presented some core criticisms above.

Watching this video, I was struck by how seriously we need to replace this popular formulaic gospel narrative with something so much richer and more biblical. We need an evangelical gospel message that does not undermine or undersell our convictions and our biblical instincts. We need an evangelical gospel message that leaves us dumbfounded by grace. We need an evangelical gospel message that leads to the profound transformation of our lives, communities, and world. We need an evangelical gospel message in which Christ is front and centre. We need an evangelical gospel message that captures the wonder of Christ’s body. We need an evangelical gospel message in which divine grace eclipses all of our problems. We need an evangelical gospel message that is all about astounding divine love in Christ, not impersonal divine logic.

We need to hear the message of a love that overcomes all death. We need to hear the story of a Father weeping with joy on the shoulders of his returned son. We need to be transfixed once again by the person of Christ. We need to hear a message dominated by joy and divine grace, not fear. We need to hear a gospel that is truly good news for the poor and oppressed. We need to hear of a Christ that is creating a new humanity, a new heavens and a new earth. We need to hear a gospel that is big enough to encompass the entire creation. We need to hear of a truth that breaks down all of the walls of our hearts and which drives us to share truly good news with others. We need to become the bearers and embodiment of a message that overwhelms us with God’s love, a message in which the identification of our sin is borne by the flood of God’s grace, in which our alienation is realized only in its overcoming.

We have such a gospel. We have a gospel in which we meet a Saviour in whom the overwhelming love of God is manifest in human flesh. We have a gospel that forms a new community and renews the face of the creation. We have a gospel that can free us from our guilt and our sin. We have a gospel that can free us to love one another and our world. We have a gospel in which we encounter and through which we come to share the very heart of God. My hope and prayer is that all of us would learn to live in this gospel, and how to speak it, not settling for anything less than what God has given to us.

I have written a follow-up post: A Better Gospel.

Posted in Uncategorized | 31 Comments

Eschatologically Weighted Ontology and the Fall

Maximus writes this section in a metaphysical idiom, but his argument helps fill out the importance of recognizing the eschatological aspiration that was inherent in Adam’s situation.  If Adam was fulfilled, perfected from the outset, then we are almost inevitably left with a “fortunate fall” paradigm.  If Adam were fully himself, all that he was going to be, from his first creation, but left that place of rest, then he needed the fall to attain his most precious possession.  But Genesis 1-2 indicates that Adam was created sinless but immature, a child who had to grow until he was ready to receive the privilege of the tree of knowledge.  He doesn’t fall from fulfilled humanness, or from perfected fellowship with God.  He sins and becomes estranged in childhood, before he has reached his rest.  The fall doesn’t initiate history, sequence, maturation; the fall makes the path of maturation more circuitous.

Read the whole post here.

Posted in Bible, OT, Theological | 2 Comments

Finding Joy in the Vapour

“Vapour of vapours,” says the Preacher; “vapour of vapours, all is vapour.”

Perhaps there are few more potent and fecund metaphors for human life, activity, and thought than that of vapour, breath, or mist. Life is like groping through a dense fog, which shrouds and veils reality, preventing us from seeing through to the heart of things. It is an experience of inscrutability: we can read neither the comings nor goings of being. We cannot neither grasp nor control it. It slips through our fingers, eluding all of our attempts at mastery. It is fleeting and ephemeral. It leaves no trace or mark of its passing, but passes into nothing. It produces no lasting fruit nor gain, and has no permanent effects. It is insubstantial, formed of nothing, and providing no bedrock for security against decay or change. Mankind’s attempts to fashion and understand the world for himself will always ultimately founder, as the unforgiving tide of time demolishes his kingdoms of sand.

It is this metaphor that lies at the heart of the book of Ecclesiastes: Ecclesiastes declares the ultimate futility of all of our attempts at building and figuring out the world for ourselves, comparing these to attempts at ‘shepherding the wind’. This is the character of life ‘under the sun’. God established a firmament, a veil between heaven and earth, and life lived beneath this veil is characterized by vapour.

Throughout the book of Ecclesiastes, Solomon is searching for some sort of ‘profit’ – some sort of lasting fruit or mark for his labours under the sun – but finds none. His attempts to find ‘profit’ through pleasure (2:1-11), wisdom (2:12-16) and work (2:17-23) all prove futile. Whatever he does will ultimately fall apart. None of our labours will have a lasting effect on the earth. The vaporous character of the worlds that man seeks to create for himself stand in marked contrast to the fixity and permanence of the world in which he finds himself (1:3-11). It is this contrast between permanence and ephemerality that manifests his activities as vapour. We might try to form and fill our own world, much as God formed and filled his world, but his will last, while ours will soon perish.

Some have read the message of Ecclesiastes as a dark and depressing expression of what the world looks like without God. I disagree with these readings. Ecclesiastes is founded upon a profoundly Christian vision of creation. The world that we live in is created out of nothing. It is held in existence by God’s Word and animated by his Spirit or breath. Our being is that of words carried on the wind, not of beings formed of some secure and self-existing ‘stuff’. Life within God’s world is lived out beneath a firmament, a veil that shrouds the realm of God’s presence. Beneath this firmament, human life, action, and thought are vaporous. To compound all of this, following the Fall, humankind labours under a curse, and the creation is subject to futility.

I find this message to be one of the most encouraging in the Bible. So much of our lives are characterized by the frustration of trying to master or grasp the vapour of our existence. Life becomes fraught with the failure of our attempts to shepherd the wind and gain leverage over our world and existence within it. Setting a Sisyphean task for ourselves, we condemn ourselves to constant defeat.

So what is the solution? When we take the true measure and account of our existence, and recognize ourselves as vapour (indeed, as vapour of vapours), we are no longer so tempted to live by sight. Fortunately, living by sight is not the only option. The person who trusts God’s Word and lives by his Spirit is living according to the deepest reality of God’s world: words on breath. The person who lives by faith is living according to one who does not live under the firmament, but is in heaven above the veil, above the vapour.

As we forfeit our attempts at mastery and absolute human providence, we can live according to God’s providence. No longer seeking for fixity and security in the creation itself, we can recognize the creation as a gift that can no more be grasped than our breath, but which constantly arrives as the divine bestowal of life. We can store up treasures with God in heaven, above the insubstantial and ephemeral realm of the vapour. Our human plans, knowledge, and actions may fail, but God’s word will always remain secure. The vapour will shift and disperse, with no trace of its departed presence, yet God never changes. We can never shepherd the winds, but God is the Spirit and makes the clouds his chariot.

As we seek security in God and his word by faith, rather than living by human sight and seeking security through our works, world, and wisdom, we are freed to adopt a different posture towards the creation. The message of Ecclesiastes is profoundly life-affirming. Since we cannot control or master life, we should live joyfully and thankfully, receiving it as a gift from God’s hand and trusting him for eternal ‘gain’. We should constantly allow ourselves to be ‘dispossessed’ of our world, to receive the vapour anew with open and non-grasping hands. This is the way of true wisdom and the path to genuine joy.

Lord, make me to know my end,
And what is the measure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am.
Indeed, You have made my days as handbreadths,
And my age is as nothing before You;
Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor.                  Selah
Surely every man walks about like a shadow;
Surely they busy themselves in vain;
He heaps up riches,
And does not know who will gather them.

And now, Lord, what do I wait for?
My hope is in You.
Deliver me from all my transgressions;
Do not make me the reproach of the foolish.
I was mute, I did not open my mouth,
Because it was You who did it.
Remove Your plague from me;
I am consumed by the blow of Your hand.
When with rebukes You correct man for iniquity,
You make his beauty melt away like a moth;
Surely every man is vapor.                                                      Selah

Posted in Bible, Ecclesiastes, OT | 2 Comments

An Unromantic Thought for St Valentine’s Day

Although I may be untypical in this regard, as a single person, I have generally been very thankful for the fact that I do not have to participate in the yearly celebration of St Valentine’s Day (if and when I get into a relationship, please keep this to yourselves, OK?). I am thankful for the fact that I can steer clear of its clichéd and mawkish expressions and that I need have no dealings with its frequent sickly sentimentality. I am even more grateful for not having to undergo an annual wrestling with the prisoner’s dilemma in connection with it.

However, my main reason for feeling this way is due to my suspicion that St Valentine’s Day is in many respects an event that is primarily geared, not towards the celebration of a particular beloved person, but towards the celebration of Eros, one of the highest gods in our culture’s pantheon. As such it can often be about a self-reflexive and narcissistic (even though shared) love of being in love, rather than being about a unique individual that is loved by us.

This is how Eros becomes an idol, an idol to which we will sacrifice the wounded hearts of other persons. In order to fulfil its expectations of us and our desires for it, we will elevate it over everything else, ripping it apart from the rich and multi-layered fabric of shared lives to become a good that trumps all others and which justifies all sorts of crimes done in its name. It can involve an ‘unworlding’ of love, a losing of ourselves in the feeling of love and passion, divorced from the history and the world of a love that makes it so meaningful.

Eros can become a third party in a relationship, or its perverse superego. It commands that we ‘enjoy!’ and we can unwittingly become its oppressed slaves. As St Valentine’s Day is overly geared towards the celebration of Love, rather than our beloved, it can be this third party of Eros with its superego injunction that comes to dominate the day for us, rather than the other person. It is Eros and its expectations that we try to satisfy, rather than our partner.

In contrast to such a day that celebrates love, summoning up the emotion that Eros demands of us and emoting at our partners on cue, I believe that we should rather be seeking new ways to celebrate the particularity of our beloveds. Anniversaries and birthdays are far more suitable for this. They are about the person, not about the emotion, or the demands of undiluted enjoyment of love, romance, and sex that eros places upon us.

In many respects, this celebration of love on St Valentine’s Day can be similar to the way that we can celebrate ‘faith’ and ‘spirituality’ in a manner that obscures Jesus. Our worship can become about singing of our feelings towards Jesus to such an extent that we lose sight of him. It can be similar to the way that we celebrate the ‘feeling of community’ in a manner that is indifferent to the needs of our neighbours.

Thankfully, Christian worship need not be about whipping up emotions as a sort of ‘work’, but is a response to God’s gracious action towards us in Christ, occasioned by his own character as revealed to us. We celebrate the love of God every week in the Eucharist, and at key moments of the year we memorialize his past actions and the continuing reality of their presence in our lives as the people of God. By rooting our celebration firmly in God’s prior action and his person, we can resist the urge to make an idol of our faith, love, spirituality, or sense of God’s presence, and can rather fix our eyes upon the object of our faith and love, Jesus Christ.

Posted in Society | 6 Comments

Theology of Clothing Book Plans

I have decided for Lent this year to take a break from blogging and regular online activity to write the first draft of a book. I presented three suggestions for topics to a friend, who decided on the topic of the theology of clothing as the one with which to run. I guest blogged on John H’s blog on the subject a while back. He posted a briefer form of my comments, along with a link to a PDF of a longer treatment.

The following is a very rough teaser of some of the subjects that will probably be treated in the book (of course, there is much that isn’t mentioned in my thoughts below that should appear in the book!). I would greatly appreciate any feedback that any of you might have on my initial thoughts, along with particular questions that you have on the subject, or areas that you would like to see explored:

Clothing is an aspect of our existence that seldom occasions much theological reflection. When we look for theological significance, we tend to seek it in far more elevated and less physical matters. To the extent that we reflect on clothing it tends to be with the intention of opposing certain styles of dress that we deem ugly, indecent, or immodest. Within this guest post, I want to present a few notes that suggest the possibility and necessity of a positive and affirming theology of clothing.

There are rich scriptural resources for a biblical theology of clothing. The sheer wealth of material on this subject that surfaces when we start looking should cause us to wonder what else we might be missing on account of misguided expectations.

The usual starting point, but sadly often also the final word, for a theology of clothing is found in the connection between clothing and the account of the Fall. After the Fall, Adam and Eve seek to cover the nakedness and shame that they feel by sewing together fig leaves. Later, God fashions tunics of animal skin for them to wear. A common conclusion arising from reflection upon this passage is that the wearing of clothes is purely a consequence of sin, a conclusion that makes a genuinely positive theology of clothing unlikely.

The connection between nakedness, shame, and guilt is central here, and merits closer analysis. Nakedness is not, in and of itself, shameful. A significant proportion of our population can go around naked without feeling any shame whatsoever. Nakedness is characteristic of infancy.

One of the most helpful explorations I have read on this subject is provided by James Jordan, in an essay in the book The Federal Vision. Jordan argues against the idea that shame is to be straightforwardly identified with guilt. Shame refers to a loss or felt absence of glory. Shame is seen in the loss of ‘face’ or glory, experienced when we are abandoned, betrayed, or isolated. This loss of glory leads people to surround themselves with a new community. Those who are excluded from one social group will often seek to form a new group around themselves.

This loss of glory is the ‘outer’ aspect of shame. The inner aspect is loss of integrity. Integrity can be lost through failure and sin, but it can also be the result of violation. The victims of burglary or rape can experience such a loss of integrity, as their bodies or property are violated. Shame occasions a crisis for our sense of personhood and worth, and requires an appropriate form of ‘clothing’.

The interplay of shame, glory, and integrity is expressed in the relationship between justification, sanctification, and glorification. Justification is the truth that in Christ Jesus we are no longer subject to condemned, that the one who trusts in him will not be put to shame. As all is laid bare before the judgment throne of God, we will find ourselves covered in Christ. Sanctification is the truth that God has committed himself to creating true holiness within us, rendering us persons of complete integrity. Justification is not merely a deceitful ‘cover-up’, but declares the truth of what we will, through God’s work, one day be in Christ. Finally, glorification refers to the weight of honour that we receive in Christ. The clothes of glory do more than conceal nakedness: they denote status and favour.

Adam and Eve sought to grasp at wisdom and glory before they were ready for it. As a result they felt shame, a shame which separated them from each other and from God. Adam lied to try to ‘cover-up’ what he had done, trying to get his wife to ‘take the Fall’. Adam and Eve produced the clothes of fig leaves because they no longer felt able to be open and intimate with God or even with each other.

However, more is going on here. The knowledge of good and evil is not a bad thing per se. It concerns wisdom and rule, and is a kingly and angelic quality. King David is described as one knowing good and evil like the angel of the Lord (2 Samuel 14:17). It is the knowledge of good and evil that Solomon asks of the Lord in 1 Kings 3:9. In eating of the tree Adam and Eve seek to grasp wisdom and rule for themselves (and we should observe that their eyes are opened: they do gain a form of wisdom). The feeling of shame and nakedness that results is not merely on account of their feeling of guilt, but also through their realization that they are not ‘dressed for the job’. They experience something akin to the fear expressed in our nightmares of finding ourselves naked on stage while making an important speech.

They had stolen an authority that wasn’t theirs yet and without some form of ‘investiture’ to represent that authority, they knew that they wouldn’t be able to exercise it. To be aware of one’s nakedness is to be aware of one’s weakness and impotence. In fashioning them tunics of animal skin God covers up their sin and guilt through sacrifice, but also graciously invests them with clothes befitting the authority that they had stolen, equipping them to exercise the role that they had seized for themselves prematurely. The tunics that God made for them were tunics of office, signs that they ruled with his authority (elsewhere when tunics appear in the Old Testament they are frequently presented as gifts denoting the status and authority that the wearer enjoys by virtue of their relationship to the giver, e.g. Genesis 37:3; Exodus 28:4; 2 Samuel 13:18; Isaiah 22:21). The fact that they were made of animal skins also represents the authority that man was given over the animals.

The complex relationship between clothes, shame, nakedness, and glory is displayed at even greater length in the descriptions of the clothes of the High Priest (Exodus 28). The clothes of the High Priest were designed to cover nakedness (Exodus 28:42), but were also designed for glory and for beauty (Exodus 28:40). The descriptions of the manner in which such clothes are constructed, first worn, divested and reworn are immensely detailed. For instance, the clothing instructions on the Day of Atonement (or, more literally, the Day of Coverings) in Leviticus 16 are significant here. Simple linen garments are worn for the atonement (or ‘covering’) ceremony and then divested, for the glorious garments of office to be put on again when all is done. As sin is dealt with, the glorious clothes can be worn again. The investiture with the garments of office also presumes the offering of sacrifices and washing of the person (the priestly garments are only put on following the ‘baptism’ of the priests – Exodus 40:12-15).

The clothes of the High Priest are a means by which he wears the natural creation and the nation (most especially in the breastplate) upon himself. The bottom and most basic layer of holy clothes to cover nakedness are vegetable – linen – garments. The outer layers of the priestly garments include animal fabrics (woollen yarns) and then metals and minerals (precious stones and gold).

In this connection we should pay attention to the description of Christ’s clothes in the context of the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension: his divided garments, his seamless undergarment, the thorned crown of the curse worn on the cursed brow of man, the linen clothes left after the resurrection (like those of the High Priest following the Day of Atonement ritual), the glorious appearance of the ascended Christ, etc.

Clothes are important motifs in several stories. One can think of the tunics, robes, and other badges of authority in the Joseph and Judah narrative. One could argue that the entire account is a story of many garments: Joseph’s tunic of many colours, the torn robes of Jacob and Reuben, the signet and cord that Judah gave to Tamar, the garment taken from Joseph by Potiphar’s wife, the signet, garments, and gold chain given to Joseph by Pharaoh, the torn robes of the brothers when the cup is discovered in Benjamin’s sack, and Joseph’s gifts of garments to his brothers.

Clothes also play an important role in the story of Saul and David. Robes are torn on two key occasions. In 1 Samuel 15:27-28, Saul tears Samuel’s robe as he departs. As in the account of the prophecy of Ahijah, the torn robe of the prophet represents the tearing of the kingdom (1 Kings 11:29-33). In 1 Samuel 24:4 David secretly cuts off a corner of Saul’s robe. God instructed his people to have wings or tassels on the corners of their garments (Deuteronomy 22:12). The corners of the garment of the king or husband represented his taking of the nation or bride under his protection and love (Ruth 2:12; 3:9; Ezekiel 16:8). The union of marriage is expressed in coming under a single garment. By cutting off the corner of Saul’s garment was a sign of rebellion and divorce, which is why David was so conscience-smitten afterwards, and repented of his action (1 Samuel 24:5-7).

The prophet’s mantle of Elijah is another significant garment. It is with this mantle that he covers his face when coming before God at Horeb (1 Kings 19:13). He throws the mantle upon Elisha to call him to follow him (1 Kings 19:19). He crosses the Jordan using the mantle, and it is the fallen mantle that represents Elisha’s full prophetic initiation, authority, and enjoyment of the firstborn portion of Elijah’s spirit in 1 Kings 2.

Clothing is an important theme in the New Testament too. We have already spoken of the clothing of Christ in his death, resurrection, and ascension. Descriptions of clothing can have typological significance. For instance, the clothing of John the Baptist in Mark 1:6 reminds us of Elijah in 2 Kings 1:8. The white and glistening robes of Christ feature prominently in the transfiguration accounts. The white robes of the saints, washed in the blood of Christ, are an important theme in the book of Revelation. The new covenant is compared to new fabric and the old covenant to an old garment (Luke 5:36-37). The old garment is roll up and changed (Hebrews 1:11-12), and the new one takes its place.

The Christian is instructed to wear the armour of God (Ephesians 6:10-20; 1 Thessalonians 5:8). These garments are the clothes of the priestly warrior, the armour that God himself wears (Isaiah 59:15-17). Unlike Saul with David (1 Samuel 17:38-39), God can equip us to bear his weighty/glorious armour when we do battle with and crush the head of the serpent. As in numerous other cases in Scripture, the armour of God is clothing that we are given as a sign of an authority that we did not win or earn for ourselves, but is received as a gracious bestowal from the hand of the one to whom it properly belongs.

In Galatians 3:27, baptism is presented as a moment of investiture, the time when we ‘put on Christ’, as the priests first assumed their official garments following their baptism (Exodus 40:12-15). Christ is the bridegroom who takes his people under the wings of his garment of the undivided Holy Spirit with which he is clothed. He is the great High Priest who dresses his people as a kingdom of priests. He is the king who grants us the robes of authority. He is the prophet like Moses who in ascending passes his mantle to his people. The clothing that Christ is for his people covers up all nakedness and shame, and renders us glorious and beautiful.

In 1 Corinthians 15:53-54 the resurrection body is described as a piece of clothing that will envelop our current mortality in life. Our present mortal bodies are garments or tents (the house as a form of garment) that are waxing old and will be put off in death (2 Peter 1:13-15). The resurrection and the present clothing of the Spirit that we enjoy are the assurance that death will not leave us naked and ashamed, but that we only take off our present mortal garments to assume glorious ones that will never fade or wear.

For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked. For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life. – 2 Corinthians 5:1-4

Many more things could be said here. All of the above is merely a gesture in the direction of what would need to be a far more detailed theological account of clothing. However, in conclusion, I think that it is worth stepping back a little and reflecting on some of the more general insights that could emerge from a theology of clothing.

  1. Bound up in a theology of clothing is a theology of God’s relationship with the world. God wears the creation like a garment and later discards of it when it is old to replace it with a more glorious one (Psalm 102:25-26; 104:1-2). The world is the veil that both hides and enables proximity to God’s presence. In Christ, God assumes the garment of the creation most fully, clothing himself in flesh, filling that garment with his glory. In Christ, mortal human flesh itself becomes the clothing of God, his tent. In the Church, Christ is fashioning us into a perfect and spotless garment.
  2. A theology of clothing also teaches us about man’s relationship with the world. Implicit in our understanding of clothing is an ecology. The High Priest’s glorious clothes are a ‘world-wearing’ akin to God’s world-wearing. Peculiarly among the animals, human beings are nude – we are the naked apes. We do not have the coverings of fur, feathers, and scales that other creatures enjoy, nor do we have the glorious raiment of the lilies. Man, alone upon the animals, is called to fashion the creation to himself, tailoring the world around himself in a manner that glorifies both him and the creation, just as God’s wearing of the creation both declares his glory, and glorifies the creation. Clothing relates us to the world, and the world to us.
  3. Clothing is a way that God has granted us to accentuate the meaning and variety in the world that he has created. Clothing reflects a sense of occasion; for instance, wedding garments must be worn for the wedding feast. There are clothes for work, for festivity, for mourning. Different cultures have different clothing styles. Clothing expresses and celebrates the differentiation that God has built into the creation (e.g. Paul’s teaching on sexually differentiating clothing in 1 Corinthians 11). Clothing serves to highlight and express identity, character, and role, such as the simple clothes of the priest that mark him out as a man in God’s service. Clothing celebrates the beauty and variety of human bodies, in all of their colours, shapes, and sizes.
  4. Finally, perhaps one of the most interesting things to notice in the Scriptures is how many of the references to clothes refer to them as gifts. While clothes can be bought or sold, in Scripture clothes are primarily given as signs of favour. The broader gift character of clothes is something worth reflecting upon. In our clothes we ‘present’ ourselves to each other. We use our clothes to honour and receive the ‘presence’ of others. We can dress for others. The gift of garments is bound up with the gift of status. Clothes make the man or woman, and we form each other by giving clothes for new office. Our cultural phenomenology of clothing is one that approaches clothes chiefly as private possessions rather than received gifts, as signs of self-asserted importance, ostentation of material wealth, and the flaunting of autonomous bodies. Such an approach can easily render clothes as a means of glory-grabbing. As Christians it might be worth thinking of practical ways in which we can recover a sense of clothes as means of loving reciprocity, learning what it truly means to dress for each other, and not for our own glory. We can also seek to identify ways in which we can be those who ‘clothe’ each other, precisely in the rich and multifaceted sense of that word that a biblical theology of clothing suggests.

Please post your thoughts in the comments!

Posted in Bible, Theological | 22 Comments

Is YHWH a War Criminal?

The question of divine goodness and justice in light of the deep problems raised by the biblical commands concerning the slaughter of the Canaanites seems to be the hot topic right now. Philip Jenkins writes on the subject of the Bible’s violent texts in the Huffington Post. John Piper has recently made some remarks on the subject. The subject has also come up in several conversations on Twitter that I have seen or been involved in over the last few days.

John Piper takes the God owes us nothing approach to the question, making the startling and, frankly, appalling statement that ‘It’s right for God to slaughter women and children anytime he pleases.’ Such a proposed solution to the problem seems to be founded upon a profoundly nominalistic conception of God, which conceives of God in terms of will, right, and power, to the exclusion of or in detachment from his goodness, beauty, and truth. In order to resolve the moral conundrums raised by the slaughter of the Canaanites, we open up a far more concerning set of problems in the very heart of our understanding of God’s character. In order to expel the horror of the Canaanite genocide, we admit a far more terrible horror into our doctrine of God.

‘Wrestling’ Rather than ‘Solving’

Any approach to these problems must maintain the connection between the justice, will, and power of God, and his goodness, mercy, truth, and beauty. If God desires something it must be good, because God is good: if something is not good, God cannot desire it. Any approach to these problems must also take the biblical witnesses to God with full seriousness. Any attempt to Procrusteanize the text to fit our doctrine of God is to be rejected, just as any attempt to butcher our doctrine of God to make it sit easily with the troubling texts of Scripture is impermissible.

I believe that our approach to such problem texts should be one of ‘wrestling’ rather than ‘solving’. Such texts are part of the biblical witness to God and, for that reason, can’t simply be rejected, no matter how much we might want to do so on occasions. Nor are we to employ subtle but facile rationalizations or justifications, to dull their force, or airbrush the appalling elements of the picture away. The Bible is a text that scandalizes us in many ways and part of our task as faithful readers is to grapple with the scandal of Scripture to the full extent of our capabilities: the text must never be rendered less scandalous than it actually is. Such texts are wounds that must be kept open, upon which no clean cicatrix may form. They are the aporiae that resist all of our attempts at tidy systematization.

It is in the difficult texts of Scripture that God meets us, as if as an enemy, wrestling against us. Our duty as Christians is to wrestle back, and not let go until God blesses us through those texts. We should, however, be aware that wrestling with such texts, while it can bless us, will leave us with a limp. As we faithfully engage with such difficult texts, we lose the jaunty gait of those who avoid such struggle.

The ‘Trajectory’ Approach

One popular approach to such passages is to appeal to theological ‘trajectories’ in Scripture (claims about cultural ‘accommodation’ are not dissimilar, and can be subject to many of the same criticisms). It is by no means clear to me that such an approach really solves our problems, without opening up a problem in our understanding of Scripture as a witness to God’s character. The ‘trajectory’ approach is all too often employed to nullify words and actions of God witnessed to by the text, and often in order to domesticate God to some contemporary moral understanding, such as the prevailing morality of contemporary liberal thought. Such a trajectory approach wrongly disavows the scandal, rather than living with it.

This is not to deny the importance of some sort of a trajectory approach in such contexts. God’s work is all about maturation on many different levels. The form of the kingdom matures and the form of God’s moral revelation matures (from Law to wisdom, from wisdom to prophecy, from prophecy to incarnation by the Spirit). Imposing an old form upon a new reality can be strongly condemned by Scripture, even though the old form was right and proper in its own place. The second part of the last statement is crucial: the old word is not nullified but fulfilled and surpassed. The old word does not cease to be a divine word in its own time and place, and we cannot therefore escape the duty of wrestling with it. As a divine word we cannot exclude it from the biblical testimony to God’s character, truth, goodness, and justice, no matter how troubling we might find it. While such texts must not be permitted to overrun or take precedence over clearer texts, most particularly the revelation of God’s character in Jesus Christ, the tensions that they create cannot be abandoned.

Some Wrestling ‘Moves’

All of the above remarks are preparatory for the following comments. I want to make clear that the following thoughts are not intended to provide a solution to these problem texts. Rather, they are some of the insights that have arisen as I have wrestled with these texts over the years (many of my comments about wrestling with Scripture above rehearse arguments already made in this post). I believe that these insights can help us in our wrestling, perhaps giving us an upper hand on certain of the problems that the texts throw at us, but without thereby ending the struggle.

The History of the Canaanites

First, we need to recognize that the invasion of Canaan does not occur in a historical vacuum. In Genesis 15:16, God indicates that the deliverance of Canaan into the hand of Abraham and his seed will not occur until the wickedness of the Amorites (and presumably the rest of the Canaanites) has reached its full measure. Such a process takes centuries, each successive generation continuing in and intensifying the wickedness of the one that preceded them. We are told that it was on account of the bloodthirstiness and wickedness of the Canaanites that God determined to purge the land of them. The land vomits out the nations that have defiled themselves and it with innocent blood and sexual immorality (e.g. Leviticus 18:24-30; Deuteronomy 9:5).

This is a point that the biblical text continually underlines: the Canaanites were not innocent and mild-mannered nations minding their own business, but brutal and bloody oppressors of other peoples, nations who perverted and defiled the image of God through all forms of sexual immorality and unfaithfulness, nations steeped in injustice and involved in the enslaving and subjugation of others, worshippers of cruel gods who demanded child sacrifice. This is the rationale that the Bible gives for the complete eradication of their culture. The Canaanites were perceived in a manner that made them the Nazis of their day, a society so evil and depraved that it had to be completely uprooted, and no form of compromise made with it. No tears were to be shed over the death of anyone who fought to defend that culture and the wickedness that it represented and perpetrated.

Forewarning

Second, these nations also had forewarning. The Canaanites were well aware of what had happened in Egypt (Joshua 2:9-11), where YHWH had proved his might over all of the gods of the Egyptians (Exodus 12:12; Numbers 33:4), and demonstrated that he was the God of heaven and earth. In fighting against the Israelites, the Canaanites knew that they were taking up arms against the Most High God, the God who had brought the empire of Egypt to its knees, humiliating all of its gods, and not just some petty tribal deity. Seen in this light, their resistance to the Israelites was a suicidal determination to fight a war against the God above the gods. The Canaanites are presented as a terrifyingly cruel civilization driven by a death wish and unwavering opposition to the God who sets free the captives.

The Canaanites’ Options

Third, the Canaanites had options open to them. They were to be eradicated from the land. However, there was nothing stopping them from fleeing from the land. Nor, far more importantly, was there anything preventing them from converting to YHWH. The Gibeonites tricked the Israelites into making a treaty with them and were protected for that reason. We also see Rahab converting to YHWH in Joshua 2. Even while declaring the complete destruction of any who resist, God’s declaration of judgment upon a people always left open the possibility of repentance and protection for those who will turn. For instance, in the Exodus, the Israelites were accompanied by a ‘mixed multitude’, among whom we may presume were many Egyptians and other formerly oppressed peoples fleeing from Egypt.

What God commanded in the conquest was the eradication of a series of cultures from the land of Canaan (the focus in the text is less upon annihilation of people groups as on utterly dispossessing them of the land). This could be achieved in a number of ways. The members of the cultures could eradicate their own cultures by converting to the God of Israel. The cultures could remove themselves from the land by mass migration or through a tribal diaspora, as the Israelites migrated from Egypt. The final option, and what for the most part seems to have taken place, was sanguinary removal from the land by conquest.

Hyperbole and History

Fourth, we need to take care to read these narratives within their literary context, and in terms of broader evidence. For instance, God speaks of Israel being ‘annihilated’ and ‘destroyed’ in Deuteronomy 28:63, the same verbs as are used of the Canaanites, but it is clear that not all were killed, and many would have remained in the land under foreign rule, while the ruling classes would have been utterly removed or exiled, and all military and cultural power broken.

There is also the fact that not all cities were utterly destroyed (e.g. ‘I gave you … cities that you did not build’ – Joshua 24:13), even though the commandment was spoken of as having been fulfilled. The focus seems to have been on the defeating of citadels (which archaeology suggests were distinct from the civilian populations of their surrounding countryside), military centres and outposts, and their ‘kings’, not upon the indiscriminate wiping out of all, combatants and non-combatants alike. The strongholds were eliminated, not the population centres. Jericho wasn’t a big city and population centre (a claim supported by archaeology), but a military stronghold, small enough to walk round seven times in a day with time left to wage war against it. The inhabitants would almost all be combatants, with a person like Rahab as an exceptional case. The cities would not be civilian centres, and the language of destroying all including woman and children, or ‘everything that breathed’ is similar to conventional ANE hyperbole.

The Liberation of the Captives

Fifth, the entire Hexateuch is filled with God’s concern for releasing the slaves and the oppressed, and his humiliation and defeat of oppressors. It would be remiss of us suddenly to forget this theme as we start to deal with the conquest (much of the following comes from Peter Leithart’s stimulating comments on the subject). The conquest begins with sequences of sevens and the blowing of trumpets, much as the Jubilee in Leviticus 25:8-17. Much as in the book of Revelation, an oppressive and bloody city is defeated with the blowing of seven trumpets, which announces the release of captives, the destruction of oppressors, and the establishment of liberty. As the Bible presents it, Joshua’s conquest is a liberation movement.

This reading can be strengthened by observation of the way that Joshua’s conquest is picked up as a theme later in Scripture. We see a pattern of ‘desert ministries’ followed by ‘land ministries’, marked off by the crossing of the Jordan. Moses leads the people in the wilderness, before handing off to Joshua on the far side of the Jordan. Joshua crosses the Jordan and leads the conquest of the land. Elijah is a prophet associated with the desert, spending much of his time in the wilderness, hiding from Jezebel and Ahab. In 2 Kings 2 he is succeeded by Elisha on the far side of the Jordan. Elisha miraculously crosses the Jordan and begins a ministry of miracles and healing within the land, setting the stage for the complete shake-up of Israel’s power structures. Jesus is baptized by John (the Elijah that was to come) in the wilderness on the far side of the Jordan. He then (after his temptations) enters the land and declares Jubilee (Luke 4:16ff.), casting out demons, healing the sick, and preaching deliverance to the poor and oppressed. In other words, the theme of conquest is fundamentally one of liberation.

Returning to the analogy of Nazi Germany, we can see that we tend to perceive the events of 1945 in much the same way. Germany eventually capitulated, and incredible suffering and deprivation were experienced by its inhabitants, but it was fundamentally a liberation that occurred. Germany suffered a gruesome death toll, but the images that most haunt us are the gaunt figures in liberated concentration camps, and though we may be appalled at the German loss of life, we know that the utter removal of Hitler’s power and the eradication of Nazism was morally necessary. The downfall of that evil power was something to rejoice in and few people are ashamed of having played a part in its destruction.

The Gospel Trajectory of Holy War

Sixth, and most importantly, we see a progressive development in the way that the theme of Holy War functions in Scripture. As I have argued above, this ‘trajectory’ does not entail a nullification or disavowal of earlier stages, but the progression to something more advanced. The Church is still called to engage in Holy War, but this war occurs by different means.

Already in the book of Joshua we see hints of what Holy War might develop into. The victory over Jericho fundamentally occurs by means of a liturgy and an act of worship. It also involves a prominent conversion in Rahab, who becomes part of the line of Jesus.

Where the Levites killed 3,000 of their brethren in Exodus 32:26-28, and are then set aside for their tabernacle ministry, at Pentecost, Peter’s sermon ‘cuts’ 3,000 hearers ‘to the heart’. Both Elijah (1 Kings 17:9-24) and Jesus (Matthew 15:21-28) exercise their deliverance ministries for poor Canaanites. While the evil Pharaoh-like king of Israel, Ahab, is being plagued with drought, God ministers to the poor Canaanite widow of Zarephath. Whether we should read this as a parallel with the way that God sought to deliver oppressed Canaanites from wicked rulers, or in contrast to the destruction of the Canaanite cities is not clear to me. However, what is clear is that the accent of Holy War shifts from physical military means, to those of prayer, the casting of demons, the proclamation of the gospel, and the various deliverance ministries of healing, feeding, release from debt and captivity, etc.

The old covenant order was one where the Spirit was not operative to the same degree or in the same manners: it is only through and in Christ that the fuller measure of the Spirit’s work is enjoyed. Whereas Joshua defeated the oppressing nations largely with physical weapons, albeit empowered by God, within the new covenant the weapons of our warfare are not those of this world, but are far more powerful (2 Corinthians 10:4). Our nations seek to wage wars of hearts and minds, but lack the necessary weapons, so must resort to brute force. The gospel, however, is capable of conquering hearts and minds, and bringing them under Christ’s rule. Holy War becomes mission. The commission that our ‘Joshua’ gives us is greater than that Moses gave to the first Joshua. Joshua was called to go into the land and wipe out the Canaanites by the sword: we are called to go into the whole world and cut every creature to the heart with the two-edged sword of the Spirit. The Church’s prayer, worship, and gospel proclamation is the means by which the whole world will be brought into Christ’s blessing.

Some care is needed here, as the New Testament doesn’t altogether leave behind the idea of the destruction of wicked and bloodthirsty oppressors and absorb everything under the idea of conversion. However, the defeat of the oppressors occurs by means of the worship, prayer, and mission of the Church, rather than through force of arms. This is especially seen in the book of Revelation, where divine judgment and victory over the bloody persecutors, vindication of the martyrs, and release of the oppressed occurs through worship and liturgy. In place of Joshua’s military campaigns, we have Paul’s missionary journeys (notice that Paul takes the Nazirite vow – a sort of holy war vow – at least once in connection with his missionary work, much as Jesus took a Nazirite-like vow in abstaining from wine prior to and while on the cross). There are judgments upon wicked persons along the way, but it is deliverance and conversion that dominate the narrative, not judgment.

As I have argued, the theme of Holy War is not left behind in the New Testament, but elevated to a higher level and intensified. The world, not merely the land, is now the site of the war. No longer are our enemies primarily flesh and blood individuals, but rather the shadowy spiritual forces behind them. We have grown beyond fighting with physical swords and have now been entrusted with the heavy weaponry – the word of the cross, which can tear down strongholds and powers (2 Corinthians 10:3-5; cf. Jeremiah 1:9-10).

Conclusion

In conclusion, I want to reiterate that the above comments are not intended as a ‘solution’ to the problems of these texts, which remain deeply uncomfortable. However, they may serve to clarify these problems somewhat and knock certain of them down to a less terrifying size. I would love to hear any further thoughts that people might have in the comments.

Posted in Bible, Joshua, OT, Theological | 26 Comments

Twitter Bible Study

I have just started a Bible study on Twitter with a few friends (my Twitter handle is @zugzwanged). We are having a tweeting conversation around 1 Samuel, using the hashtag #tbs1sam, going through one chapter each day. Today (8th February) we are working through 1 Samuel 1. Tomorrow is 1 Samuel 2. And so on.

Please join in: your contributions to the conversation would be greatly appreciated!

Posted in 1 Samuel, Bible, OT | Leave a comment

The Hidden Functions of Religion

In The Sacraments: The Word of God at the Mercy of the Body (not the same book as I am currently summarizing), Louis-Marie Chauvet has a fascinating diagram illustrating some of the psychological and social advantages that people can seek in requesting the Church’s rites of passage, focusing on baptism and the wedding:

Expressed Motivation Reference God Function of Religion
“It’s always been done in my family” The God-of-our-ancestors Religion-Tradition
“We want the child to be like everybody” The God-of-the-tribe Social integration
“Like this, the child will receive good principles” Guardian of the established order Morality
“If anything bad should happen to the child….” The God of retribution Insurance for the hereafter
“We want to give the child ever possible chance” The all-powerful God Protection for the future
“We aren’t dogs…” Feeling of something “Sacred” Transcendence
“This makes a beautiful celebration possible” Reference to God’s “beauty” Festivity/esthetics
“They’re so innocent at that age!” The God of childhood, of lost innocence Religion-nostalgia

These desires are mostly unconscious, and are not limited to those who seem to be somewhat less than appropriate and completely suitable candidates for these rites. Chauvet’s purpose is to articulate the potent psycho-social motivations that, as latent and unconscious, can be even more powerfully formative and determinative for requests for the Church’s rites.

Chauvet’s insistence is that, rather than simply dismissing these motivations as naive, we need to be aware of their existence and engage with them, without losing sight of what might be natural or necessary within them. The pastoral interview must be an occasion where pastors try to establish and engage with the wavelength that the requesters are on. Rather than seeking merely to ‘assuage’ the idea of faith and the Church as a cultural heritage or religious system, they must ‘convert’ it by directing it to the continuing life of personal faith and commitment, not abandoning the institutional, cultural, and traditional elements of the faith for some impossible mirage of ‘pure faith’ that is detached from any socio-cultural or institutional form.

Posted in The Church, The Sacraments, Theological | 3 Comments