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God Is Not Like Me

May 12, 2013 by Bo Sanders 11 Comments

I grew up in a tradition that said I should be, as much as possible, like Jesus. I get that – and I try to do so.

Yesterday at the Loft LA I had the privilege to say 3 things (among many others) about God:

God is Black (from James Cone)
She Who Is (from Elizabeth Johnson)
God is a Fag ( from Bernard Brandon Scott)

It is interesting because I am none of these three things! I am not black, a women, or homosexual. It is interesting then to present these images of a God who is very much different than I am – even as we, as a community, are being conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29).

It is important that we acknowledge that God is not on the side of ‘the powers’ but of those in need of liberation – that it is equally as accurate and as inaccurate to call God ‘She’ and it is to call God ‘He’ – and that according to 2 Corinthians 5:21

“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

This is a topsy-turvey business.

Over the last 20 years of ministry I have noticed a somewhat unsettling trend that in order to be like God, I have had to move away from many of the natural strengths that ‘God gave me’.

While I love to be at center stage in the spot light with a microphone – I am fascinated with the cell group, house church, and small group model of church. As a pentecostal, I am obsessed with how the Spirit of God is at work in the People of God.

While I am a big, hairy, muscular man – I am convinced that feminist theologian are right and that Christian history does not accurately reflect the will and mind of God for the world that God loves so much (John 3:16).

While I am white guy – I am writing my dissertation on ‘White Privilege’ and hoping to confront some of the systemic racism that will not do as we move into the 21st Century.

So while I attempt to be more like God, I am very aware that God is not all that much like me.

This is an important distinction. As C.S. Lewis said in his poem “A footnote to all prayers” (it references Pheidias who was a legendary statue maker in the ancient world):

He whom I bow to only knows to whom I bow
When I attempt the ineffable Name, murmuring Thou,
And dream of Pheidian fancies and embrace in heart
Symbols (I know) which cannot be the thing Thou art.
Thus always, taken at their word, all prayers blaspheme
Worshipping with frail images a folk-lore dream,
And all men in their praying, self-deceived, address
The coinage of their own unquiet thoughts, unless
Thou in magnetic mercy to Thyself divert
Our arrows, aimed unskilfully, beyond desert;
And all men are idolators, crying unheard
To a deaf idol, if Thou take them at their word.

Take not, O Lord, our literal sense. Lord, in thy great
Unbroken speech our limping metaphor translate.

When we pray, we by nature blaspheme – all of us. The reality is that language , by its nature, means that words are provisional. When the Hebrew Testament speaks of God as a ‘King’ or Martin Luther writes a hymn declaring “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” … these are analogies. They are metaphors. They are temporary place holders.

Anything that we say about God is (in the apophatic sense) both illustrative and, at the same time, not exactly all that accurate. We would do well to get used to saying :

“God is like X … and that, of course, is not exactly true.”

Philippians 2 is helpful at this point. The ‘Kenotic’ Move of Christ self-emptying and descending for the purpose of service, exhorts us to not hold onto anything too tightly (clinging/grasping) but to empty our certainty and expose all of our assumptions to that which is not natural to us. Not an easy task!

If we acknowledge, then, that all language is provisional… that it is just a accurate and as inaccurate to call God she or he… that any prayer is at some level blaspheming … and that I am called to be like God – though I know that God is not exactly like me … then I can begin a kenotic journey of recognizing God while releasing God from my pre-conceived notions.

This is the dynamic journey of faith: to recognize the full moon and the new moon, the high tide and low tide, the Fall and the Spring, the ebb and the flow, the fall and the rise of all that I am familiar with and and all that I am ignorant about. That is what we talk about when we talk about God.

Rob Bell puts it this way:

When we talk about God, then, we’re talking about something very real and yet beyond our conventional means of analysis and description.

The Germans, interestingly enough, have a word for this: they call it grenzbegrifflich. Grenzbegrifflich describes that which is very real but is beyond analysis and description.

When I’m talking about God, I’m talking about your intuitive sense that reality at its deepest flows from the God who is grenzbegriff.

Bell, Rob (2013-03-12). What We Talk About When We Talk About God (Kindle Locations 767-772). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

I would love your feedback and reflections.

Filed Under: bible stuff, books, church history, conversations, emergent, engaging, latest, living, post-something, quotes, sermon, thinking Tagged With: Bernard Brandon Scott, Bible, book, books, C.S. Lewis, church, Elizabeth Johnson, feminist, gay, God, homosexual, James Cone, jesus, kenosis, Phil 2, prayer, Rob Bell, sin

If Aquinas Were Around Today

January 22, 2013 by Bo Sanders 8 Comments

Thomas Aquinas comes up a lot these days.* Some of it is generated by a small community of passionate people who want to reclaim his project.

This, in turn, prompts some – such as John Caputo in an interview with us – to come up with a legendary one liner that accused this group of ‘retreating into the hills of Thomism’.

The most insightful address I have encountered recently comes from Umberto Eco in the book Travels in Hyperreality. In a chapter entitled “In Praise of St. Thomas” he outlines how Thomas interacted with his world and how he navigated the difficulties of his inherited order (mendicants) , his Age, and his own limitations. Three passages from the 1974 essay that inspired me were:

- Thomas, was neither a heretic not a revolutionary. He has been called a “concordian”. For him it was a matter of reconciling the new science with the science of revelation, changing everything so that nothing would change.

- Nobody ever said that Thomas was Galileo. Thomas simply gave the church a doctrinal system that put her in agreement with the natural world.

- So it is surely licit to ask what Thomas Aquinas would do if he were alive today; but we have to answer that, in any case, he would not write another Summa Theologica. He would come to terms with Marxism, with the physics of relativity, with formal logic, with existentialism and phenomenology.

He would comment not on Aristotle, but on Marx and Freud. Then he would change his method of argumentation, which would become a bit less harmonious and conciliatory.

And finally he would realize that one cannot and must not work out a definitive, concluded system, like a piece of architecture, but a sort of mobile system, a loose-leaf Summa, because in his encyclopedia of the sciences the notion of historical temporariness would have entered.

I can’t say whether he would still be a Christian.

But let’s say he would be.

I know for sure that he would take part in the celebrations of his anniversary only to remind us that it is not a question of deciding how still to use what he thought, but to think new things.

Or at least to learn from him how you can think cleanly, like a (person) of your own time.

After which I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.

This actually is an approach to the past that has some general applicability. I have heard it said that best way to honor founders of any movement is not to simply repeat what they did but do the kind of thing they did in their time for our time.

As a contextual theologian, I have said (over and over again) that honoring the apostles and the early church’s mothers and fathers is not in simple doing what they did in their culture – but in doing in our culture the types of things they did in theirs.

Rote repetition – regurgitation is not honoring. It is closer to idolatry.

Repeating in the 21st century what they said in the 8th century isn’t as faithful as one might like it to imagine. This is due to the nature of our message. Our message is incarnational and thus our models and methods must match that!

The container must match the content.

I’m not that into Aquinas. I think it’s because of the approach of those who are a little too into him. But if they were to change to Eco’s approach and engage contemporary science and incorporate real scholarship, then I might get into Aquinas as well.

I just have no interest in reclaiming a romantically imagined version of the past. I am very interested in engaging the living now and emerging near future.

_________

* Saint Thomas Aquinas, (1225 – 1274), also Thomas of Aquin or Aquino, was an Italian Dominican priest, and an immensely influential philosopher and theologian in the tradition of scholasticism, within which he is also known as the “Dumb Ox”.

Filed Under: bible stuff, books, church history, emergent, engaging, latest, philosophy, pomo, post-something, quotes, science, thinking Tagged With: Bible, book, books, church, God, history, jesus, radical orthodoxy, Summa, Theologica, theology, Thomas Aquinas

Revelation, Restoration, Reconciliation, & Resurrection: the end

January 4, 2012 by Bo Sanders 13 Comments

Graphic Option TWO

I have been researching some famous takes on ‘the end’ (or ‘final things’) in preparation for an upcoming Theology Nerd Throwdown (TNT) about the resurrection and eschatology.

One of the reasons that I wanted to go back a re-visit this topic wasn’t just because we got several calls into the phone-in hotline (678-590-2739) – and not just because it is 2012 – but because my own eschatology has changed so radically in the past 10 years. So, I should probably put all my cards on the table before I interact with these legends. Two confessions:

I do not believe that the book of Revelation is about the end of the world. I see it primarily as a political commentary on the first centuries (CE) utilizing an apocalyptic genre and therefore of little profit for purposes of this doctrine or for future-casting. Our hope come not from the book of Revelation but from the truth of Christ’s resurrection.
I was raised pre-millennial partial-dispensationalist, with amillenial charismatic leanings and an eye toward post-millennial expectations. My dad was a church historian and preacher so I know those camps’ strengths and weaknesses pretty well. I would obviously no longer frame the conversation the way that whole argument is constructed.

I find that in each of the following authors there something deeply attractive and then something a little troubling – some more troubling than others. Here then is my sampling of perspectives. I would welcome any feedback or new suggestions.

Irenaeus: this 2nd century writer was perhaps the first great postbiblical theologian and he believed in a physical resurrection (Against Heresies, book 5, chapters 32-33, 36). You can see in his writings where we get most of our historical literal reading. He even believed that the new flesh would be identical to the old in which the saints would inherent the ‘new heavens and the new earth’.
The hesitation comes when he gets to this part where he is working with Matthew 26:27-29 where Christ promises not to drink of the fruit of the vine until the new kingdom. He is putting a lot of stock in the literalness of both the presence of grape vines as proof of the physical nature of new creation and the assuredness of the resurrection because of the disciple’s presence for the drink. There is a hermeneutic in place that I am just not sure anyone wants to assimilate in the 21st century.

Origen: this 3rd century writer has a spiritual take that stands in sharp contrast to the literalness of the Irenaeus. His doctrine is known as apokatastasis ton panton – the restitution of all things (On First Principles, book 3, chapter 6). I was prepared to like Origen – as I am a big fan of his on several other subjects.
I was not prepared however for his big leap! He puts so much stock in the idea of God being ‘all in all’ that he even goes as far as to say that there will be no more contrast between good and evil and this will be true for each individual person as well. He was definitely working with a model of ‘Mind-Body-Spirit’ that is ancient and I was not sure I wanted to go back to.

Augustine: this 5th century writer is perhaps the most famous writer on this subject (City of God, book 22, chapter 30). He helps us dream of perfect peace and promises rewards where “virtue will be the best and greatest of al possible prizes”. His is truly the stuff of bliss and delight.
I have several hesitation with Augustine, not least of which is the whole best of all imaginable worlds suspicion of human creation and limitation … but it is how he get there that is notable.

“There is a clear indication of this final sabbath if we take the seven ages of world history as being “days” and calculate in accordance with the data furnished by the Scriptures. The first age or day is that from Adam to the flood…”

We obviously live in the seventh day (of indeterminate length) before the 8th day of Sabbath rest. I’m assuming that I don’t need to elaborate why this antiquated mental construct and hermeneutic employed is problematic for the contemporary thinker.

Schleiermacher: This 19th century writer actually has a really healthy and vibrant reading (The Christian Faith) … but it is framed in a unique bracket. He begins by saying (essentially) that the doctrine related to the consummation of the church is going to be different than other doctrines (like Christology) because so much of it is speculation and can not come from human experience. He makes a strong case for seeing prophetic pictures through the rules of art and an insistence on tracing everything back to the utterances of Christ. He points our the inherent limitations of conceiving of a future life by analogy with the present one. He is right about that! Too often talk of heaven is nothing more than a projection of the best of here. The glitch with this guy is that the minute you bring up his name in conjunction with experience you have a whole can of worms you have to deal with.

Bultmann: This 20th century writer stressed that our is essentially an eschatological religion that is not simply ethics or morality. He says “According to the New Testament, Jesus Christ is the eschatological event, the action of God by which God has set an end to the old world.” (History and Eschatology)
I like what Bultmann had to say. I mean REALLY liked it! But let’s be honest: unless you are going to get down with his whole existential-demythologized program … you are not going to be quoting a lot of Bultmann. He just comes with too much baggage. It seems to me that he is an all-or-nothing kind of resource.

Tillich: This 20th century giant runs his interpretation of the kingdom of God through his philosophy of history (The Protestant Era) making an important distinction between Kairos (fullness of time) from Chronos (measured time). I won’t review it here except to say that it is blazing awesome stuff and if you are prone to liking Tillich, then definitely check this out. He even explains how democracy, socialism, and anarchy are leftovers of religious utopia concepts. Tillich, however, is not for everyone – his heady and philosophically elaborate ideas are not entry level stuff.

Pannenberg: I have never read anyone like Pannenberg. This 20th century writer accounts for the existentialist concepts of his peers while transcending their concerns and focusing on a real history and real future of the kingdom of God, not just internal personal experiences. I read a selection from The Idea of God and Human Freedom because I had just recently reread Theology and the Kingdom of God. Tripp is a big fan of Wolfhart P. so I will not take too much time here as I am sure that we talk about this plenty in the TNT. I will just pass along this quote:

“In my opinion this is to misunderstand the meaning of the eschatological prophecies of the future. They are of course concerned with the real future, but in a different sense from predictions on the basis of natural laws, forecasts of political developments or the intuitive foreknowledge of contingent future events. The eschatological prophecies of the future formulate the conditions of the final realization of man’s humanity as a consequence of the establishment of the righteousness of God, which is essential to man’s being as such.”

You can see that it is thick reading with nuanced distinctions… but I love his insistence on a real historical expression while accounting for the abstract-conceptual concerns of the existentialists.

I am excited to talk with Tripp about Marjorie Suchocki’s process idea of being taken back into God and our experience being remembered in God and being free to experience the fullest of God’s presence for eternity – as well as N.T. Wright’s concept of “the world being put to rights” that is so popular right now, as well a little Jurgen Multmann to make our good friend Tony Jones happy.

If you haven’t signed up for the conference yet, it is not too late! You have a month get your tickets and get to Southern California where it will be 86 degrees and sunny today. Go to http://www.processtheology.org/

Filed Under: bible stuff, books, church history, conversations, engaging, latest, philosophy, quotes, thinking Tagged With: 2012, Augustine, Bultmann, Irenaeus, marjorie suchocki, Moltmann, NT Wright, Origen, Pannenberg, Reconciliation, restitution, Restoration, resurrection, revelation, Schleiermacher, Tillich, Tony Jones

Luther Goes Progressive

January 5, 2010 by Deacon Hall 3 Comments

With the Holiday season over, I am busily studying for my qualifying exams again. As of now, I’m reading through Luther’s Greater Catechism. It’s a good work, and I always appreciate the vitriol with which Luther approaches any subject. But there’s a section in this work that I, strangely, found especially refreshing.

First things first, the catechism is setup as follows: a series of sermons on the 10 Commandments, a series of sermons on the Apostle’s Creed, and a series of sermons on the “Our Father.” In the first of these sections, Luther writes in a detailed manner on each commandment. Often times, you can tell how important Luther thought the commandment by the sheer volume he writes on it. And the 4th, honor thy father and mother, he spends much.

While much of the sermon on the 4th commandment forms the groundwork for temporal governance, this part does not concern me so much. What’s more important is the following:

‘Notice how great, good, and holy a work is here assigned children, which is alas! utterly neglected and disregarded, and no one perceives that God has commanded it or that it is a holy, divine Word and doctrine. For if it had been regarded as such, every one could have inferred that they must be holy men who live according to these words. Thus there would have been no need of inventing monasticism nor spiritual orders, but every child would have abided by this commandment, and could have directed his conscience to God and said: ‘If I am to do good and holy works, I know of none better than to render all honor and obedience to my parents, because God has Himself commanded it. For what God commands must be much and far nobler than everything that we may devise ourselves, and since there is no higher or better teacher to be found than God, there can be no better doctrine, indeed, than He gives forth. Now, He teaches fully what we should do if we wish to perform truly good works, and by commanding them, He shows that they please Him. If, then, it is God who commands this, and who knows not how to appoint anything better, I will never improve upon it.’

Now, as a good progressive, Luther’s above paragraph has become too simple for me. If the world and our knowledge of it was ever simple enough to capture all human ethical relationships in the phrase “honor they father and mother,” I don’t believe it is any longer. Progressives, in their Protestant heritage, have rightly understood that the Kingdom of God comes in and through our own work and toil, is a product of our hard-fought battles for the Just (a point that Luther will not necessarily deny). So, we appropriately develop activist centers dedicated to any number of social rights and goods; we properly recognize that the Church is, by definition, no Church at all if it is not serving those who do not consciously exist within a vision of Isaiah 11.

I, for one, will stand by this vision and progressives’ dedication to it, and I will not claim that our work is anywhere near done. (A glance at the front cover of any Newspaper will tell you that.) But, I would also argue for two points. First, there are times that we progressives get a bit too abstract. We fight for justice and equality, environmental protection and environmental responsibility. However, I would argue that what we actually fight for is more concrete. The work we do is work toward fullness of communion between us and God, each other, and the rest of creation. We seek to be responsible and just not simply because these abstractions are goods in themselves (and they are), but because the concrete life they afford persons (as we have and want still to experience it) is a better life, both now and in the life to come.

Secondly, I would argue that we progressives get a bit too self-righteous, believing that the fate of the world rests on our shoulders and our shoulders alone. While certainly we have a share of responsibility for the sins of this world, there can be no more anthropomorphic belief than the above. I know that what I’m going to say is not entirely fashionable these days, but the work of God is still God’s work, work in which we do and ought to participate. But the in-breaking of New Creation is not grounded in our actions; our actions are grounded in it, as promulgators and co-creators. However much responsibility we must take for this world, we cannot fall into a more or less pragmatic atheism, believing that all good things rest on our bringing them about. And even if there is some danger from a social-responsibility perspective for saying this: the resurrection of creation to the fullness of communion is ultimately God’s own responsibility, promised in the resurrection of the Son, to be fulfilled at the end of history. In other words, God’s work does not rest on us and us alone.

Accordingly, I think that Luther’s sermon on the 4th Commandment reminds us of just such truths. So, next time you forget what it is as a progressive Christian you’re fighting for, and next time you begin to fall sway to the belief that we humans are our own and only ultimate hope, call your father and mother. Remind yourself what good communion is by getting them some dammed potatoes, say, next Thanksgiving with love and without complaining, and be humble enough to know that this work is as important as anything else you do. After all, communing with your father and mother was, for Luther, the beginning of all Good human relationship, a communion that might be extended by God with our help through all creation.

Filed Under: quotes, thinking

Whiteheadian Witticisms: The Ark of Dogma

October 20, 2009 by Tripp Fuller 1 Comment

A system of dogmas may be the ark within which the Church floats safely down the flood-tide of history. But the Church will perish unless it opens its window and lets out the dove to search for an olive branch. Sometimes even it will do well to disembark on Mount Ararat and build a new altar to the divine Spirit, an altar neither in Mount Gerizim nor yet Jerusalem

- Alfred North Whitehead, Religion in the Making (146)

Filed Under: engaging, quotes

A Theology of Life from Jurgen Moltmann

August 27, 2009 by Tripp Fuller 1 Comment

In a few weeks I will be getting to interview one of the world’s greatest theologians, Jurgen Moltmann. One of his major contributions to Protestant theology is the development of his doctrine of the Holy Spirit. In particular I have been most influenced by his appropriation of the objective indwelling of the Holy Spirit in all Creation. What that means is simply that the Holy Spirit is actually present with, to, and for all of creation regardless of their subjective experience. In a sense the world is drenched in a sacred life-giving spirit all the time, our challenge is to awaken to it and be transformed within it.

Often the objective indwelling of the Holy Spirit in humanity is developed theologically through the explanation of the imago dei, by explaining the nature of humanity’s image-of-god bearing status. While reading through God for a secular society I found a dense yet powerful quote where Moltmann contrasts this doctrine to the utilitarian understanding of life developed in modernity. It seems quite timely in our own country’s health care debate.

Theologically, the human being’s likeness to God is not based on the qualities of human beings. It is grounded in their relationship to God. That relationship is a double one. It means God’s relation to human beings, and the relation of human beings to God. Human beings’ objective likeness to God subsists in God’s relation to them. This is indestructable and can never be lost. Only God can end it. The dignity of each and every person is based on this objective likeness to God. God has a relationship to every embryo, every severely handicapped person, and every person suffering from one of the diseases of old age, and he is honored and glorified in them when their dignity is respected.

This list can be expanded to all humanity….those in prison, those citizens of countries were we are engaged in military conflict, etc……

Without fear of God, God’s image will not be respected in every human being and the reverence for life will be lost, pushed out by utilitarian criteria. But in the fear of God there is no life that is worthless and unfit to live (84).

If you have a response or question let me know. Glad to ask your question during the interview.

Filed Under: books, emergent, engaging, quotes

How Nietzsche Ruined Dinner

August 20, 2009 by Tripp Fuller 7 Comments

Today I cooked a bunch of food. I made homemade salsa, set up the slow cooker for dinner tomorrow with friends, and made a poppy seed chicken casserole recipe (shared by a friend). All the while I was listening to some Nietzsche on my IPod, trying to assure that more than my belly grew in the dinner process. I will admit that I have found Nietzsche very interesting ever since a fundy preacher from Australia yelled about how God i sn ‘t dead and taunted Nietzsche before thousands of pumped up teenagers at Cornerstone. Any way, without speaking to the eternal destination of anyone’s soul I would like to share a passage from Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals and ask if there is any irony (or a crippling shot) in this passage for the Australian preacher who decided to use Nietzsche’s presumably not-so-pleasant final destination as a rallying cry for a crowd of conservative evangelicals?

Belief in what? Love for what? Hope for what? There’s no doubt that these weak people at some time or another also want to be the strong people, some day their “kingdom” is supposed to arrive…they call it simply “the kingdom of God,” as I mentioned. People are indeed so humble about everything! But to experience that, one has to live a long time, beyond death…in fact, people must have an eternal life, so they can win eternal recompense in the “kingdom of God” for this earthly life “in faith, in love, in hope.” Recompense for what? Recompense through what?

In my view, Dante was grossly in error when, with an ingenuity meant to inspire terror, he set that inscription

The Australian preacher would have loved this....and Nietzsche would have called it 'exhibit A.'

over the gateway into his hell: “Eternal love also created me.” Over the gateway into the Christian paradise and its “eternal blessedness” it would, in any event, be more fitting to set the inscription “Eternal hate also created me”…provided it’s all right to set a truth over the gateway to a lie!

For what is the bliss of this paradise? . . . We might well have guessed that already, but it is better for it to be expressly described for us by an authority we cannot underestimate, Thomas Aquinas, the great teacher and saint: “In the kingdom of heaven the blessed will see the punishment of the damned, so that they will derive all the more pleasure from their heavenly bliss.” (1.15)

Filed Under: philosophy, quotes, thinking

Help me interview Jurgen Moltmann

August 20, 2009 by Tripp Fuller 3 Comments

I am busy reading some Jurgen Moltmann for the upcoming theological conversation in a couple weeks and thought I would share a bit along the way. Feel free to let me know your thoughts and questions so I can use them when I have a little dialogue with Moltmann. In particular I am interested in any issues his thought raises for the life of the church. Clearly his theology does and all theology should, but any specific questions or topics you want me to bring up with him would be greatly appreciated.

Right now I am reading ‘God for a Secular Society‘ and in the introduction he tells this little story which I really enjoyed:

When the modern world was born, three good fairies came along, bringing their good wishes. The first of them wished the child individual liberty, the second wished it social justice, and the third prosperity. But then, on the evening of the same day, the wicked fairy turned up and pronounced: ‘Only two of these three wishes can be fulfilled.’ So the modern world of the West chose individual liberty and prosperity. The modern world of the East chose social justice and prosperity. But the philosophers and theologians chose for their ideal world individual liberty and social justice, and consequently never arrived at prosperity. (2)

Filed Under: books, conversations, emergent, engaging, quotes

Impartial love and the rejection of hate

August 8, 2009 by Tripp Fuller 2 Comments

One of my favorite books on postmodern theology is ‘God and Religion in the Postmodern World’ by David Ray Griffin. I should really reread it again and see how it would resonate with me now, but it was the first theology book that helped me the nature of constructive theology in a postmodern context. If you are smart enough to be coming to the Emergent Conversation with Moltmann in a few weeks you can explore this with Philip Clayton and I in our breakout session, ‘Constructive Wine in Deconstructive Wineskins: Finding the Living Spirit in ‘the Death of God.” Any way, Griffin discusses the nature of God’s impartial love and its implications…..

The doctrine of God’s impartial love does not imply that God is not unhappy with much that is going on in the world and does not prefer the actions of some people to those of others. It does not mean that God supports the aims of all indifferently. What this doctrine of God’s impartial love implies is that God’s unhappiness with some people’s lives does not involve hate. It implies that we cannot translate our hatred into divine hatred and thereby justify and reinforce it. It implies that, when we find ourselves fighting against other people, we are fighting against people whom God loves as much as us. It implies that we cannot justify and reinforce our own indifference to some people’s welfare by assuming divine indifference. In brief, it implies that there can be no divine sanction for the typical bipolar, imperialistic viewpoint, which divides the world into the favored saints and the hated enemy, with the rest of the world being a matter of indifference except insofar as it figures into the bipolar battle (p 144).

Filed Under: books, engaging, quotes

Ricoeur, Rollins, and Roberts on Parables

May 11, 2009 by Tripp Fuller 2 Comments

To listen to the Parables of Jesus, it seems to me, is to let one’s imagination be opened to the new possibilities disclosed by the extravagance of these short dramas. If we look at the Parables as at a word at rest first to our imagination rather than our will, we shall not be tempted to reduce them to mere didactic devices, to moralizing allegories. We will let their poetic power display its self within us., ‘Listening to the Parables of Jesus’ in The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur: An Anthology of His Work (245).

Deacon Zach Roberts has a new post on the Parables of Jesus over at Baptimergent. It is definitely worth reading, so check it out.

The irony of parables is that most readers assume they vindicate their own cause, when actually they implicate us for our participation in injustice. If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny emerging Baptists, he would have been at a Wal-Mart McCafe networking with white male denominational executives on a PC.

Peter Rollins, who recently published a book of parables, says:

A parable can be loosely described as a short, fictional narrative that draws the reader ?into an insight concerning some aspect of faith and life. Parables often work best when ?they challenge commonly held attitudes and unmask the poverty of some widely held value. Parables are generally structured in a very simple and stark way, with a narrative that avoids any unnecessary detail that may detract from the central, evocative message.

Filed Under: books, pomo, quotes, thinking

Living the Questions