A Tribute To Tim Russert

Posted on June 27, 2008 
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The other day I went sailing for the first time. A friend who accompanied me on my brief sojourn on the Chesapeake remarked that I was like a little boy as I took in the experience. It’s a phrase that also came up repeatedly when various journalists offered fond recollections of Tim Russert. Time after time they said that Tim was like a little kid, full of wonder before the world. Perhaps there is no higher compliment one could give. It takes me back to a passage from Chesterton:

A child kicks his leg rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always so “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. I may not be an automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of mking them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy, for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence, it may be a theatrical encore. Heaven may encore the bird who laid an egg. (Orthodoxy, 84).

Tim Russert has gone on to the life of eternal youth and wonder. May we heed the words of Matthew 18:3, that we might follow him there.

Suprised By Colbert

Posted on June 26, 2008 
Filed Under Bible, Culture, Eschatology | Leave a Comment

N.T. Wright on the Colbert Report. Must watch….

The Bible In 90 Days: The Life Is In The Blood

Posted on June 25, 2008 
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I have been reflecting on Leviticus the past couple days, and in particular on the blood prohibition in chapter 17. I came across an interesting interpretation on a friend’s blog:

In his recent Concordia commentary on Leviticus, John Kleinig gives a good summary of what I think is the best explanation of the blood prohibtiion of Lev 17:

“many animists regard blood as the most potent of all ritual substances. The blood of an animal was either drunk or, more commonly, eaten with its meat to gain its life-power, its vitality and health, its virility and fertility, its energy and strength.” For the nations surrounding Israel, blood was food for deities (cf. Book 8 of the Odyssey), and was used to ward off evil spirits.


For Israel, however, God is the God of life and death: “God reserved all blood for himself as the life-giver. It had to be given back to him. People could not use blood to gain supernatural life-power for themselves, nor could they manipulate it to grant life-power to those who lacked it. It could not be handed over to other gods and demons, since they had no right to use it, nor were they allowed to acquire life-power from it. Above all, no Israelite was allowed to consume the blood from any animal. God ordained that it was to be used ritually only in the rite of atonement and the practices associated with it. Yet the power of blood in that rite did not come from the life in it, but from God’s word which had instituted its use. That Word determined its function in the rite of atonement.”

This also implies that everything Israel ate was “dead,” since it was drained of life-blood. Israel was forbidden to eat living animals, or animals that still had blood-soul in them. Instead, they were required to eat dead things, and recognize that Yahweh alone gave life to and through the dead food.

For Christians, one perenniel question is how this prohibition of blood relates to the Eucharistic consumption of blood. Kleinig suggests that “Christ’s institution does not really violate the taboo, because it is the ultimate reason for it.” He appears to mean that Israel was forbidden to eat animal blood because there is only one life-giving blood, the blood of Jesus.

To that, I would add this additional note: While Israel was required to eat only dead things, Christians are invited to eat “flesh” with the blood, and that means we are invited to feed on a living Christ. But this is not really blood of “flesh,” since Jesus has been raised out of flesh into the life of the Spirit. (We have the complication that Jesus offered His blood before His resurrection, but let’s ignore that for now!) Perhaps we should put it this way: Fleshly life is sustained through consumption of dead food, meat without life-blood; but the life of the Spirit is sustained through consumption of living food, body with life-blood. Fleshly life is sustained by the flow of the life of the flesh, which is in the blood; the life of the Spirit is sustained by the flow of the Spirit.

The Bible in 90 Days: Reprint

Posted on June 19, 2008 
Filed Under Bible, Bible in 90 days | 1 Comment

Below is rerun of something I posted a few months ago on the Joseph story…

In his book Messengers of God, Eli Wiesel describes the Joseph narrative as a slow-paced, monotonous, overdetailed, overwritten story that can put the reader to sleep. I’d prefer to see it as textured, rich and earthy. It’s certainly been the highlight of the daily lectionary for me of late. And usually I find it’s the grace, not the devil, that’s in the details.

Yesterday we read the story of Joseph’s encounter with Benjamin, whom the other brother’s have to bring before Joseph if they are to return to Egypt for more grain in the midst of the famine. The meeting is so emotional that Joseph must retire. Robert Alter notes that the literal translation of the Hebrew in 43:30 is something akin to “his mercy burned hot.” He withdraws to gather himself and then returns to dine with his brothers. He seats them in accordance with their ages, from firstborn to youngest. This may seem like one of the “overwritten” parts of the narrative. But it’s telling. It reveals Joseph’s knowledge and his brother’s ignorance. They do not know who he is, but he knows who they are, intimately so. And now Benjamin sits in the place that Joseph would have sat. And he does take Joseph’s place indeed, literally. For Joseph shows the sort of gratuitous favor to Benjamin that Jacob showed to Joseph so many years before. Joseph recreates the set of circumstances that led to his own demise. He favors the youngest brother, perhaps wondering if the same jealousy and enmity would develop.

In today’s reading the plot thickens. Joseph has the sacks of all his brothers loaded up with silver. Here is where the irony becomes thick. In chapter 37 Joseph’s brothers receive silver in exchange for their brother who they sell into slavery in Egypt. Now, hard as they try, they cannot leave the silver in Egypt. It follows them relentlessly and seems on multiple occasions as if it will lead them into bondage (or worse) as well. But the brothers do not stand accused when Joseph’s servant comes upon them. It is only Benjamin who will suffer harsh consequences, for in his bag is found Joseph’s own silver cup. Joseph has gone to great lengths to recreate the situation of his own betrayal. His brothers again have the opportunity to betray their youngest brother, the favorite son of their father, and to leave Egypt with sacks full of silver.

The Bible In 90 Days: Notes on Genesis

Posted on June 18, 2008 
Filed Under Bible, Bible in 90 days | 1 Comment

My church is doing the Bible in 90 days this summer. I’ve agreed to post regular notes on the readings. So here goes with some preliminary thoughts on Genesis. This is overview, big picture sort of stuff, so if you’re reading put your track shoes on…

When the Democrats get religion…

Posted on May 16, 2008 
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…the Democrats get religion. A friend sent me this link to a blog post about Obama. I’m a bit torn by the whole Obama faith factor. On the hand I find it inspiring that a progressive candidate isn’t embarrased about his faith, but actually feels comfortable and confident speaking about it. Compare Obama to John Kerry or Al Gore. The difference is remarkable and its a change that I think bodes well for Democrats heading into the general election. There’s been loads of ink spilled of late regarding the increasing number of evangelical swing voters. Perhaps a third of that constituency is up for grabs and they might be more inspired by the young, hip candidate who is actually a convert to the faith than by an old school Protestant who likely considers religion to be more of a private affair, something not to be discussed at cocktail parties, let alone on the stump. But after reading Book XIX of Augustine’s City of God this week with some folks from Church of The Holy Trinity my feelings about the Democratic party’s newfound religious fervor is more mixed. Augustine is writing in the wake of Rome’s assault in 410 C.E. Pagans saw the assault on Rome as punishment for turning from the Empire’s traditional deities. Some Christians saw it as a sign of the apocalypse. But Augustine was more measured in his response. He reminded his readers that Rome was not the Heavenly City, the hope and telos of God’s elect. It was just part of the earthly city, another Babylon in which God’s people find themselves exiled.

Rome’s status as Babylon ought not to discourage Christians from political activism. This is hardly the case. Augustine quotes Jeremiah’s words to the exiles in 29:7.:

Wherefore, as the life of the flesh is the soul, so the blessed life of man is God, of whom the sacred writings of the Hebrews say, “Blessed is the people whose God is the Lord.” 1302 Miserable, therefore, is the people which is alienated from God. Yet even this people has a peace of its own which is not to be lightly esteemed, though, indeed, it shall not in the end enjoy it, because it makes no good use of it before the end. But it is our interest that it enjoy this peace meanwhile in this life; for as long as the two cities are commingled, we also enjoy the peace of Babylon. For from Babylon the people of God is so freed that it meanwhile sojourns in its company. And therefore the apostle also admonished the Church to pray for kings and those in authority, assigning as the reason, “that we may live a quiet and tranquil life in all godliness and love.” 1303 And the prophet Jeremiah, when predicting the captivity that was to befall the ancient people of God, and giving them the divine command to go obediently to Babylonia, and thus serve their God, counselled them also to pray for Babylonia, saying, “In the peace thereof shall ye have peace,” 1304 -the temporal peace which the good and the wicked together enjoy.

The peace of the earthly city is fleeting but real, temporary but of value, to be esteemed but not excessively extoled. When one takes Augustine seriously, one will be a good neighbor and a good citizen, seeking the welfare of the earthly city for the sake of believer and non-believer alike. But one will never confuse the relative good that comes from the earthly city’s welfare for the ultimate good that can only come from the welfare that is our inheritance established by God. When one believes that one’s city (or country) is more than just a manifestation of the earthly city, when one confuses it with the City of God, then one will use any means, including torture, to protect it. The freedom the Christian has is the freedom which comes with the realization that all goods in this life may be enjoyed, but must be held loosely. Such freedom, which allows us to loosen our grip on the goods of this life comes through being grasped in the grip of grace.

The Spiritual Significance Of Church Rennovation

Posted on May 2, 2008 
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Tuesday I heard my friend and colleague Tony Jones speak at Princeton’s Institute For Youth Ministry. Tony began with some reflections on the story of the Transfiguration found in Mark 9. When Peter suggests that shelters ought to be built for Jesus, Moses and Elijah, Jesus ignores his comments. Tony pointed out that this is the only instance in the Gospels where Jesus flat out ignores a comment or request. I think he’s right about this. Tony went on to suggest that the problematic aspect of Peter’s suggestion is rooted in the familiar desire to take a moment in time and capture it. Peter wants to capture and hold on to a revelatory moment that really can only be gratefully received, but never owned. Tony likened Peter’s desire to the universal human desire to cling to the familiar and fear change.

Before Israel inherited the promised land, it worshiped in the tabernacle, not a temple. The tabernacle was portable and could be packed up so that the Israelites could follow wherever God’s glory cloud led. This wasn’t the case with the Temple. It was fixed. It was permanent.

The last words of Jesus in the Gospels and the Book of Acts are “GO”. He sends his people into the world as witnesses in the power of the Holy Spirit. We are called to be a tabernacling people ready to go where God is leading and calling. Tabernacle spirituality allows for this. It allows the church to be flexible and discerning. It allows the church to go. Temple spirituality on the other hand makes the church’s watch word “come”. The church invites the world to come to where it is because its way of life, its traditions, its structures are fixed and not always flexible.

My church just did some rennovations in the sanctuary. Although the process was a relatively short one, it caused frustration, anxiety and sadness for some as any change can do. Some people love the new sanctuary, others are less enthused. But what I really am coming to value about the work is that it serves as a sign to us that nothing is everlasting except the God who alone is worthy of our worship. Visible change like the one that recently occurred in our sanctuary can serve as an ever present reminder that we are called to be a tabernacling community that goes where we’re sent rather than a mere temple which bids people to come. Thank God for change.

Confessions Of A Political Junky Seeking Audacious Hope

Posted on March 4, 2008 
Filed Under Bible, Lectionary, Politics | 7 Comments

I admit it, I’m a bit of a political junkie. I frequent sites like Politico and Drudgereport all day long. I time my gym visits so I hit the treadmill during Hardball. And like many self-styled progressive, trendy, yearning to be cosmopolitan Mac users, I’m an Obama fan. (In my defense, I was an Obama fan when it was just trendy, not uber-trendy like it is now.) So today is a pretty exciting day for me. It has a Super-Tuesdayesque kind of character. I was up early sipping coffee and watching the pundits on CNN and MSNBC all say the same thing different ways. Then I opened up my prayer book and was struck by the words of the lectionary’s morning Psalter selection, Psalm 146:

3Do not put your trust in princes,
 in mortals, in whom there is no help.
4When their breath departs, they return to the earth;
on that very day their plans perish.
5Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob
whose hope is in the LORD their God…

Obama has raised political interest and excitement and even seems to have eroded, albeit ever so slightly, so of the overwhelming sense of American cynicism where all things political are concerned. He’s bright, articulate, and might be the sort of candidate that could unite Americans in what is one of the most divisive political seasons in recent memory. All this is good. But Obama, like Hillary Clinton and John McCain is a mortal prince in whom there is no help. His plans and policy objectives may be good but their goodness is limited like that of all created things in the shadow of the Fall. One of the tragic aspects of the human condition is that we are constantly trying to attain lasting hope from good but fleeting things. Craig Barnes describes this sense of restlessness in his book Searching for Home:

Whether we want to admit it or not, the longing for home is welling up from the soul. This may even be the most enduring trace of God upon our lives. It’s as basic to the biblical literature as Adam and Eve who long for paradise, Abraham who leaves home in order to find a promised land, the exiled Hebrews who are stunned to be stuck in Babylon, and the prodigal son to whom the memory of the father’s house returns. The entire biblical story depicts men and women roaming from one disconnected experience to the next, unable to be at home where they are, uncertain that they will ever find where they ought to be…When we awaken to the identity of this one who is with us, we discover that paradise has found us, along the way. And in that rests all our hope.

So much of our lives are lived looking for the next thing that will give us a sense of deep and lasting fulfillment and hope. But inevitably whatever we thought would do it for us doesn’t, be it a job, a house, a lover, or a cause. We are still left with the profound sense of longing that always characterizes human existence. No created thing can put our restlessness to rest. Only our Creator who comes to us as Redeemer can do this.

So whatever the outcome today, it’s importance is relative. The enduring reality and truth that Dante discovers in his spiritual pilgrimage remains the same:

Everywhere He reigns, and there He rules;
there is His city, there is His high throne.
Oh happy the one he makes his citizen!

-Dante, The Inferno, I.

 

 

To Consuming Moderns I Become…?

Posted on February 29, 2008 
Filed Under Bible, Culture, Lectionary | 3 Comments

Today’s Lectionary Epistle is from 1st Corinthians 9:

19For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. 20To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. 21To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law. 22To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. 23I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”

I was instant messaging with a friend today who said this: “… it’s kinda weird when all ur worlds start to intersect and somehow they find their way onto your facebook.” We then wound up in an interesting “discussion” (I put discussion in quotes because Instant Messaging seems like something a bit different than conversation) about how the modern (or postmodern or hypermodern depending on your preferred nomenclature) condition is one of rootlessness and disintegration. We’re always on the move, both daily and in life. We are, most of us anyway, mobile all the time. We work one place, play in another, worship in another, meet potential life partners in another, connect with family in yet another, and so forth. And then many of us will uproot and move to another part of the country, or perhaps even another country altogether, and find a whole other set of places and networks and relationships and start the whole process again. We are forever putting on and taking off different selves. Our work selves, our play selves, our dating selves, our family selves. This is perhaps why boundary language is such a part of our culture. We’re always trying to figure out when and where one self ought to end and where and when another should begin. Then comes a website like Facebook where we can look at all our selves and the networks they inhabit all at once, and it can be downright arresting. This is so different from the existential situation of so many of the people who have ever lived, who by and large lived, worked, worshiped and died with the same people in the same place.

This led to my thinking about what the Gospel speaks into this situation. My guess is that most people in Center City Philadelphia where I work and live aren’t deeply driven by the question of how they might possibly be reconciled to a righteous and holy God. This probably was a dilemma in 16th century Europe, but not now, not for most urbanites anyway. What does it mean to become “all things to all people” in the here and now?

My guess is it has something to do with the promise of a God who wants to know the whole us and create a place and space where we can know and be known. The trap of modernity is that we are always constructing ourselves. Our identities are always in flux. Identity is the last and ultimate consumer good. More like a consumer project actually. This is why advertising so seldom sells a product, but an identity. If you buy this car, or these clothes, or consume this convivial beverage then you will enter into the world and scene that comes with them. Our consumer choices become bound up not merely with our material needs, but with our desire to construct that self that will end the sense of longing that leads to senseless spending. But this is false hope. The failure of each consumer constructed identity leads to a more gaping hole than previously existed. So many of us find our selves longing to create a self that gives us peace at the same time being caught in the midst of our selves and all the contexts in which mere segments of us are known at any given time. In the Gospel we meet a God from whom we cannot hide, a God before whom we can stop the quest for the consumer self. For this God knows us in Christ better than we can know ourselves and the gift of his grace is the gift of our true selves that we can never create but only receive and live into in the Spirit. This God journeys with us in our nomadic state, uniting us with other modern nomads who have received the promise of membership in an Eternal City where everybody knows our name, and more than our name, our deepest truest selves.

Scheming Grace

Posted on February 24, 2008 
Filed Under Bible | 1 Comment

In his book Messengers of God, Eli Wiesel describes the Joseph narrative as a slow-paced, monotonous, overdetailed, overwritten story that can put the reader to sleep. I’d prefer to see it as textured, rich and earthy. It’s certainly been the highlight of the daily lectionary for me of late. And usually I find it’s the grace, not the devil, that’s in the details.

Yesterday we read the story of Joseph’s encounter with Benjamin, whom the other brother’s have to bring before Joseph if they are to return to Egypt for more grain in the midst of the famine. The meeting is so emotional that Joseph must retire. Robert Alter notes that the literal translation of the Hebrew in 43:30 is something akin to “his mercy burned hot.” He withdraws to gather himself and then returns to dine with his brothers. He seats them in accordance with their ages, from firstborn to youngest. This may seem like one of the “overwritten” parts of the narrative. But it’s telling. It reveals Joseph’s knowledge and his brother’s ignorance. They do not know who he is, but he knows who they are, intimately so. And now Benjamin sits in the place that Joseph would have sat. And he does take Joseph’s place indeed, literally. For Joseph shows the sort of gratuitous favor to Benjamin that Jacob showed to Joseph so many years before. Joseph recreates the set of circumstances that led to his own demise. He favors the youngest brother, perhaps wondering if the same jealousy and enmity would develop.

In today’s reading the plot thickens. Joseph has the sacks of all his brothers loaded up with silver. Here is where the irony becomes thick. In chapter 37 Joseph’s brothers receive silver in exchange for their brother who they sell into slavery in Egypt. Now, hard as they try, they cannot leave the silver in Egypt. It follows them relentlessly and seems on multiple occasions as if it will lead them into bondage (or worse) as well. But the brothers do not stand accused when Joseph’s servant comes upon them. It is only Benjamin who will suffer harsh consequences, for in his bag is found Joseph’s own silver cup. Joseph has gone to great lengths to recreate the situation of his own betrayal. His brothers again have the opportunity to betray their youngest brother, the favorite son of their father, and to leave Egypt with sacks full of silver.