“We are justified by the blood of Christ and reconciled to God, in that through the singular grace displayed to us by the assumption of our nature, by his instruction of us by word and example, and by his perseverance even to death, he has by love bound us more closely to himself, so that, thanks to the ardor of so great a divine blessing, the true love which is now ours should draw back from no suffering for his sake.” – Peter Abelard (1079-1142)
A contemporary of Anslem, Peter Abelard has proven to be deeply influential on many thinkers who, to this day, ascribe to a subjective - or symbolic - view of the atoning work of Christ; a paradigm which suggests that nothing essentially ontological or objective was remedied through the death of Christ (such as the achievement of the forgiveness of sins, defeat of death, reversal of the universal consequences of the Fall, etc.). Rather, this view would hold, it is the personal influence that this sacrificial act has upon us, as we observe it, that is of singular importance. In Abelard’s view, it is thought that as we gaze upon such an act of profound self-sacrifice, as the culmination of the perfectly lived life of Christ, that the divine love should consequently be caused to well up within us such as to propel us into lives of genuine righteousness and similar self-giving love. This is our salvation; not that we are somehow freed from some ontological or universal debt, but that Christ’s example is so stirring as to awaken us from the blindness and slumber that has heretofore entrapped us in patterns of sin and death, and to inspire and guide us into the life that we have been created to live.
While wrestling with the understanding of what was accomplished through the atoning work of Christ in his death and resurrection certainly constitutes a mystery that presses us against the limits of language itself, I believe that the paradigm suggested by Abelard, and those who would follow him in this regard, is fundamentally flawed. It sounds nice enough, and manages not to disturb us too greatly with thoughts of what sort of universal void there might be that would need to be appeased by the sacrifice of the Son of God himself for our sake. In the end, however, this is only – to quote C.S. Lewis – ‘soft soap’ thinking. The underlying problem of a subjective view of the atonement is that it requires the death of Christ to be of inherent value, apart from any consideration of a deeper ontological reality. These thinkers still want to look upon the crucifixion and stand in awe of the fact that one such as Jesus would love us so deeply as to die for our sake. This sort of thinking, however, attempts to inhabit the high-rise penthouse suite while disbelieving that any lower stories exist, or are even necessary. Simply put, if the death and resurrection of Christ did not actually accomplish anything objective, or beyond itself, in what real sense did Christ die ‘for us’?
Surely there is great heroism, and much to be valued, in the death of a man who throws himself in front of a moving train in order to push another out of the way and save them. In what esteem, however, ought we hold a man who steps in front of that same train, not because there is actually someone to save, but simply as an ‘example’ for the rest of us? In what sense ought we be inspired to be like him? If the sacrifice of Christ did not actually, in and of itself and apart from our subjective perception of it, accomplish our salvation, then to think of that death as having been ‘for our sake’ is to beg the question; we are simply casting a pointless and grotesque tragedy in a retrospectively positive light. As such, the subjective paradigm of salvation by ‘inspiration’ essentially undermines itself.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Historical Jesus
“…it is surely evident that the early Christians had an interest in the historical story [of Jesus] for it’s own sake…” – Bishop John A.T. Robinson
In glancing over the progression of scholarship regarding the role of the historical Jesus in relationship to broader Christology, it is interesting to me that it has consistently been at the hands of those who would claim to be most concerned with gaining an accurate picture of the Jesus of history that, in their inability to recognize and detach themselves from their own philosophical aims, the context, audience, evidence and aim of the Gospel has suffered the most violence. How is it that, again and again, those who seek to take up the ‘Quest’ for the historical Jesus have lead us instead into the arms of a timeless Christ, a disembodied moral exemplar, a universal human principle; the furthest thing possible from that concrete, frustratingly particular and purposed reality that is the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the 1st century Jewish Rabbi and self-proclaimed messiah? Indeed, while this incongruous universalizing of Jesus seems surprising when considered in it’s own right, its origin becomes clear when we recognize that the aim of this quest has never been to genuinely clarify the reality of this inescapably important historical figure, but rather to seek to find a way out of a scriptural understanding of Christ that is simply too uncomfortable to bear. Too influential to dismiss, yet too dangerous in his own right, our ‘quest’ begins with a simple presupposition: he must not have really been/done/said those things. Rooted in distrust of the best available sources, these scholars have repeatedly opted for the authority of their own conjecture and imagination; creating sensible ‘christs’ in their own image, a neutered and confused figure, deeply tragic, but somehow still universally inspiring.
It is further fascinating to me that it is these same scholars who continually miss the radical significance of the historical story, even as they claim deep concern for it. Attempting to fit the gospel into their pre-existing religious paradigms of polemic and instruction, they miss the revolutionary uniqueness of the moment. They fail to appreciate that the reason the evangelists of the early church recorded the life and teachings of Jesus in the form of narrative, in the shape of a historical moment, is that it is precisely the fact that it IS a story, and a true one, that makes it unique, profound, and the foundation of hope itself
Every religious text on earth can basically be boiled down to a series of instructions: live this way, and achieve your proper end. They are essentially compilations of instruction, sprinkled with stories to illustrate that instruction. The Gospel, on the other hand is ESSENTIALLY a story; it is not an instruction manual to tell us what to do, rather it is the good news – the joyful report – about what God has already done on our behalf. While there is a good deal of excellent instruction to be found in scripture, that instruction is MEANINGLESS if the STORY isn’t true. This is why the apostle Paul could so adamantly assert, “…if Christ is not raised, our preaching is useless, and so is your faith.” (1 Cor. 15:14) It is precisely the fact that these things actually and historically happened that is the cornerstone of faith. As such, it is both amazing and tragic that such a ‘quest’ for the Jesus of history would lead to such a spiritualized, universalized, mythologized and disembodied figure. It is as if we have decided that the news readily before us in scripture is just too good to be true, and therefore simply cannot be.
In glancing over the progression of scholarship regarding the role of the historical Jesus in relationship to broader Christology, it is interesting to me that it has consistently been at the hands of those who would claim to be most concerned with gaining an accurate picture of the Jesus of history that, in their inability to recognize and detach themselves from their own philosophical aims, the context, audience, evidence and aim of the Gospel has suffered the most violence. How is it that, again and again, those who seek to take up the ‘Quest’ for the historical Jesus have lead us instead into the arms of a timeless Christ, a disembodied moral exemplar, a universal human principle; the furthest thing possible from that concrete, frustratingly particular and purposed reality that is the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the 1st century Jewish Rabbi and self-proclaimed messiah? Indeed, while this incongruous universalizing of Jesus seems surprising when considered in it’s own right, its origin becomes clear when we recognize that the aim of this quest has never been to genuinely clarify the reality of this inescapably important historical figure, but rather to seek to find a way out of a scriptural understanding of Christ that is simply too uncomfortable to bear. Too influential to dismiss, yet too dangerous in his own right, our ‘quest’ begins with a simple presupposition: he must not have really been/done/said those things. Rooted in distrust of the best available sources, these scholars have repeatedly opted for the authority of their own conjecture and imagination; creating sensible ‘christs’ in their own image, a neutered and confused figure, deeply tragic, but somehow still universally inspiring.
It is further fascinating to me that it is these same scholars who continually miss the radical significance of the historical story, even as they claim deep concern for it. Attempting to fit the gospel into their pre-existing religious paradigms of polemic and instruction, they miss the revolutionary uniqueness of the moment. They fail to appreciate that the reason the evangelists of the early church recorded the life and teachings of Jesus in the form of narrative, in the shape of a historical moment, is that it is precisely the fact that it IS a story, and a true one, that makes it unique, profound, and the foundation of hope itself
Every religious text on earth can basically be boiled down to a series of instructions: live this way, and achieve your proper end. They are essentially compilations of instruction, sprinkled with stories to illustrate that instruction. The Gospel, on the other hand is ESSENTIALLY a story; it is not an instruction manual to tell us what to do, rather it is the good news – the joyful report – about what God has already done on our behalf. While there is a good deal of excellent instruction to be found in scripture, that instruction is MEANINGLESS if the STORY isn’t true. This is why the apostle Paul could so adamantly assert, “…if Christ is not raised, our preaching is useless, and so is your faith.” (1 Cor. 15:14) It is precisely the fact that these things actually and historically happened that is the cornerstone of faith. As such, it is both amazing and tragic that such a ‘quest’ for the Jesus of history would lead to such a spiritualized, universalized, mythologized and disembodied figure. It is as if we have decided that the news readily before us in scripture is just too good to be true, and therefore simply cannot be.
Monday, January 19, 2009
No Line. Get On Your Boots.Now.
Get On Your Boots, the first single from U2's new album No Line On The Horizon, will be released as a digital download on February 15th with a physical format to follow on February 16 through Mercury/Universal (UK).
Produced by Brian Eno, Danny Lanois and Steve Lillywhite, sessions for No Line On The Horizon began in Fez, Morocco, and continued at the band's Dublin studio, New York's Platinum Sound Recording Studios, and London's Olympic Studios.
Released on March 2nd (March 3rd in the US), the album will come in a standard format with 24 page booklet and in digipak format. The digipak includes an extended booklet and the album's companion film "Linear" by Anton Corbijn. A limited edition 64 page magazine will also be available, featuring the band in conversation with artist Catherine Owens, and new Anton Corbijn photographs. No Line On The Horizon will be released on 180gm vinyl. (More on the formats below)
The album cover artwork is an image of the sea meeting the sky by Japanese artist and photographer Hiroshi Sugimoto.
Here's the full tracklisting:
1. No Line On The Horizon
2. Magnificent
3. Moment of Surrender
4. Unknown Caller
5. I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight
6. Get On Your Boots
7. Stand Up Comedy
8. Fez - Being Born
9. White As Snow
10. Breathe
11. Cedars Of Lebanon
awesome.
Monday, December 8, 2008
God's Desire, My Apathy.
“For this [is] good and acceptable in sight of the Savior, our God, who all people he is desiring be saved and into knowledge of the truth to come.” 1 Tim 2:3-4
:: Upon a cursory reading of the second chapter of 1 Timothy, the first six verses are easily passed over far too quickly; either as simply an extended exhortation to prayer en route to many further exhortations regarding all manner of doctrine and practice, or as a straightforward build-up on the way to more difficult and/or controversial passages. To do so, however, is to bypass the heart of all that Paul proceeds to say afterwards; the foundation and wellspring of his passion for these matters at hand. Most simply put, upon deeper examination of these few verses, I find the Gospel itself, hidden in plain view; with no less than the heart of God presented as the reason and resource for all that the Church is called to be and do. God desires the salvation and restoration of all people, because in Jesus Christ he has ransomed all people; as such he calls forth his Church, in witness, teaching, ministry and prayer, to purpose itself unto the benefit of all people. God’s heart is ever and presently bent in love towards the whole world; in the outworking of the transformation of redemption upon our own hearts, the same ought be true of us.
Too often, whether through fear, discouragement or simple apathy, I find that it is easy to pursue the eternal benefit and healing of those around me in a half-hearted manner, if at all. Too easily I resign myself to the foregone conclusion that not everyone will respond positively to the gospel; I set my expectations low, as not to be disappointed. I do not risk myself – my pride, my time, my reputation – for those around me. I call it “reality”; at the heart of my inaction, however, the truth is that I simply cannot surrender myself and my self interest enough to care – or at least, not to care enough. I build this inactive response upon my ‘knowledge’ and my own experience, and while I might honestly say that this subconscious pessimism is simply realistic, it is ‘realism’ of this sort that brings death to our compassion. It is this subtle line of thought that leads people, and churches, to insularity; gradually setting our sights and hearts only upon those who we naturally find in our midst on the basis of easy affinity, with little thought or capacity to care about those we don’t.
Paul’s words here regarding the nature of God’s longing draw a stark contrast on this point. This God, who due to his infinite knowledge and boundless foresight has infinitely greater justification for pessimism and resignation than I, is yet defined, in God’s very character, by hope. Some will reject, many will refuse his love, yet knowing this more clearly than I will ever have the capacity to know, this God even now continues to desire for the salvation, the healing and redemption of every person. Is this simply divine naïveté, or is something deeper at work here? Is God eternally unrealistic? No, God is more realistic than we can ever hope to comprehend. In fact, it is this reality, this “knowledge of the truth” that God most longs for every person to take hold of. To be saved, in this light, is to repent of our unreality – to turn from the lies in which we live that tell us that we are alone, hopeless, un-vouched for and unloved. To “be saved” is simply to come into knowledge of the truth that we HAVE been saved; ransomed, paid for, and set free. To remain in darkness is simply to refuse to open our eyes. To remain in slavery is simply to refuse to accept that we have been ransomed out from it.
As such, God himself is perpetually moved in compassion and desire for all people; in heartbreak for their self-deception and in hope for their redemption in the truth. And, in those of us who have been brought to life and freedom, the heart of God compels us into compassion, action and witness, for the sake of all people, in resonance with the hope and desire of God himself; in prayer, teaching, and action.
:: Upon a cursory reading of the second chapter of 1 Timothy, the first six verses are easily passed over far too quickly; either as simply an extended exhortation to prayer en route to many further exhortations regarding all manner of doctrine and practice, or as a straightforward build-up on the way to more difficult and/or controversial passages. To do so, however, is to bypass the heart of all that Paul proceeds to say afterwards; the foundation and wellspring of his passion for these matters at hand. Most simply put, upon deeper examination of these few verses, I find the Gospel itself, hidden in plain view; with no less than the heart of God presented as the reason and resource for all that the Church is called to be and do. God desires the salvation and restoration of all people, because in Jesus Christ he has ransomed all people; as such he calls forth his Church, in witness, teaching, ministry and prayer, to purpose itself unto the benefit of all people. God’s heart is ever and presently bent in love towards the whole world; in the outworking of the transformation of redemption upon our own hearts, the same ought be true of us.
Too often, whether through fear, discouragement or simple apathy, I find that it is easy to pursue the eternal benefit and healing of those around me in a half-hearted manner, if at all. Too easily I resign myself to the foregone conclusion that not everyone will respond positively to the gospel; I set my expectations low, as not to be disappointed. I do not risk myself – my pride, my time, my reputation – for those around me. I call it “reality”; at the heart of my inaction, however, the truth is that I simply cannot surrender myself and my self interest enough to care – or at least, not to care enough. I build this inactive response upon my ‘knowledge’ and my own experience, and while I might honestly say that this subconscious pessimism is simply realistic, it is ‘realism’ of this sort that brings death to our compassion. It is this subtle line of thought that leads people, and churches, to insularity; gradually setting our sights and hearts only upon those who we naturally find in our midst on the basis of easy affinity, with little thought or capacity to care about those we don’t.
Paul’s words here regarding the nature of God’s longing draw a stark contrast on this point. This God, who due to his infinite knowledge and boundless foresight has infinitely greater justification for pessimism and resignation than I, is yet defined, in God’s very character, by hope. Some will reject, many will refuse his love, yet knowing this more clearly than I will ever have the capacity to know, this God even now continues to desire for the salvation, the healing and redemption of every person. Is this simply divine naïveté, or is something deeper at work here? Is God eternally unrealistic? No, God is more realistic than we can ever hope to comprehend. In fact, it is this reality, this “knowledge of the truth” that God most longs for every person to take hold of. To be saved, in this light, is to repent of our unreality – to turn from the lies in which we live that tell us that we are alone, hopeless, un-vouched for and unloved. To “be saved” is simply to come into knowledge of the truth that we HAVE been saved; ransomed, paid for, and set free. To remain in darkness is simply to refuse to open our eyes. To remain in slavery is simply to refuse to accept that we have been ransomed out from it.
As such, God himself is perpetually moved in compassion and desire for all people; in heartbreak for their self-deception and in hope for their redemption in the truth. And, in those of us who have been brought to life and freedom, the heart of God compels us into compassion, action and witness, for the sake of all people, in resonance with the hope and desire of God himself; in prayer, teaching, and action.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
