The Scope of Redemption, pp. 226-7 of Wright

A common Christian assumption is that all that happens here on earth is nothing more than temporary and transient. Human history is nothing more than the vestibule for eternity, so it doesn't really matter very much. To this negative comparison is added the idea, drawn from a mistaken interpretation of the language of 2 Peter 2, that we are headed for total obliteration of the whole earth and indeed of all the physical creation. With such a prospect, what eternal value can possible attach to the work we do in the local or globalized public square here and now? But the Bible presents a different prospect. God plans to redeem all that he has made ...

Of course the Bible presents the public square, human life lived in society and the marketplace, as riddled with sin, corruption, greed, injustice and violence. That can be seen at local and global dimensions, from sharp practices at the market stall or corner shop, to the massive distortions and inequalities of international trade. As Christians, we need a radical understanding of sin in its public dimensions, and we need to see part of our mission as being called to confront that prophetically in the name of Christ. But for God, the corruption of the public square is not a reason to vaporize it, but to purge and reform it.

Isaiah 65:17-25 is a glorious portrayal of the new creation- a new heavens and a new earth. It looks forward to human life that is no longer subject to weariness and decay, in which there will be fulfillment in the family and work, in which the curses of frustration and injustice will be gone forever, in which there will be close and joyful fellowship with God, and in which there will be environmental harmony and safety. The whole life- personal life, family life, public life, animal life- will be redeemed and restored to God-glorifying productiveness and human-fulfilling enjoyment.

The New Testament carries this vision forward in the light of the redemption achieved by Christ through the cross, and especially in light of the resurrection. Paul comprehensively and repeatedly includes "all things" not only in what God created through Christ, but what he plans to redeem through Christ. It is clear in this text that "all things" means the whole created order in both descriptions of the work of Christ (Col. 1:16-20). Because of that plan of cosmic redemption, the whole of creation can look forward to the future as a time of liberation and freedom from frustration (Rom. 8:19-21)....

And the final vision of the whole Bible is not of our escaping from the world to some ethereal paradise, but rather of God coming down to live with us once again in a purged and restored creation, in which all the fruit of human civilization will be brought to the city of God (Rev. 21:24-27, building on Isa. 60).

"The Gospel of the Kingdom," pp. 187-8 of Wright

How many years had that Scripture (Isa. 61:1-3) been read in that synagogue? How many times would the local rabbi had encouraged the people to go on praying and trusting for the day when the one of whom it spoke would come and do those things? May he come soon, O Lord! Bring us this good news in our lifetime. Perhaps tomorrow ...

Then one Sabbath morning, the local carpenter's son shocked the whole town with the electric word, "Today!" No more waiting. What you have hoped and longed for all these years is here, in the one standing before you. The prophetic voice of the ancient text has become the living voice of the one now reading it to you. "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing" (Luke 4:21; italics added).

And the things the text spoke of were exactly the things that Jesus pointed to as evidence that the kingdom of God had indeed come. God was reigning in and through Jesus, through his words and his works: "If I drive out demons by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you" (Luke 11:20). When John the Baptist wondered if perhaps he had backed the wrong messiah, Jesus pointed to the same things, this time supported by yet another text of Isaiah (Isa. 35:5-6), but adding the significant words, "and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Lit., "and the poor are being 'evangelized'"' Matt. 11:4-5).

And that reign of God, inaugurated by Jesus and indeed embodied in him, continues to work within human history in the ways that Jesus said it would- like seed growing, like yeast rising, like fish being caught. The kingdom of God is at work in and through the lives of those who have "entered" it, that is, in whose lives God is reigning through repentance and faith in Christ, in those who are committed to the ways of Jesus Christ by submitting to him as Lord, those who seek first the kingdom of God and his justice, in those who hunger and thirst for justice....

The gospel, then, is fundamentally good news of the reign of God.

What is the Gospel? ... Not So Fast ...

"What exactly is the gospel that lies at the core of our mission? It is the good news of what God has done through Jesus Christ for the redemption of the world. But what is the scale and scope of God’s redemption? … One of the dangers with a word like 'gospel' is that we all love it so much (rightly), and want to share it passionately (rightly again), that we don’t take time to explore its full biblical content…. We will find that the Bible itself will correct our tendency to reduce the gospel to a solution to our individual sin problem and a swipe card for heaven’s door, and replace that reductionistic impression with a message that has to do with the cosmic reign of God in Christ that will ultimately eradicate evil from God’s universe (and solve our individual sin problem too, of course)" (Wright, The Mission of God's People, p. 31).

The Mission of God's People, by Chris Wright

I have already begun quoting from Wright's book as I have been working through it; however, I think there is benefit to look at some of his thoughts in the beginning of his book to get a sense of where he is going with things. Here Wright gets us to think intentionally about how we think when the word "mission" is mentioned. These are some of the foundational questions he plans to engage in his book:

… mission is [often thought by Christians as something] either that specially commissioned Christians manage to do full-time, if they can get enough “support” to do so, or something that other Christians (the vast majority) do in odd moments of time they have to spare from the necessity of having to work for a living. Maybe they can fit a “mission trip” into a vacation, or go on a “church mission” over the weekend.

But what about the rest of life? What about the rest of the “world”- the world of work, the public arena, the world of business, education, politics, medicine, sports, and the like? In what sense is that world the arena of the mission of God’s people, and what does such mission consist of? Is it only the moments of evangelistic opportunity in that world, or can our work itself participate in God’s mission?

To push the question further, do the people of God have any responsibility to the rest of human society in general beyond the imperative of evangelism? What content do we put into biblical phrases like being a blessing to the nations, or seeking the welfare of the city, or being the salt of the earth or light of the world, or doing good (one of the commonest expressions used by Paul and Peter)? Do these concepts figure in our biblical theology of mission?

A Whole Gospel

"It is hard to imagine a sequence of events more comprehensive in effect than the story of the exodus presented to us in the book of that name. The texts portray at least four dimensions of the bondage that Israel suffered in Egypt- political, economic, social and spiritual- and goes on to show how God redeemed them in every one of these dimensions" (Christopher J.H. Wright, The Mission of God's People, p. 99).

"Political, economic, social, spiritual- all of these dimensions are integral to the Bible's first great act of redemption. God did whatever it would take to rescue Israel out of whatever form their bondage took" (Wright, p. 101).

"The New Testament presents the cross and resurrection of Jesus as the grand exodus par excellence- the crowning accomplishment of God's redeeming will and power, his victory over all powers, human and satanic, that oppose him and oppress his people" (Wright, p. 111).

Bringing Good News to the Whole of Creation

In the last post, Wright said "our mission must include being and bringing good news to the whole of creation." What are some examples of this? Think of what we might call "creational structures" we see in the first couple chapters of the book of Genesis before the fall of humanity: marriage, stewardship of the environment [think of the idea of subduing the earth and caring for it... yard work anyone? :-) (see last post)], work (Adam was set in the garden to "work it"), parenthood (producing little "image-bearers" who will spread the light of God, His likeness, rule and reign throughout the earth) and implicit is the beginning of "culture-making," i.e. the employment of man-made items like tools that are used to mold, shape and order the earth after God's desire. Also implicit, culture-making is found in the expression of song and poetry as Adam expresses delight in the vision of his bride (Gen. 2:23... see similarities with Isa. 62:5b and Zeph 3:17). 

Things Eternal?

I remember a few years back hearing a line among evangelical people that "the only things that are eternal are God, His Word and souls," so that being the case our entire lives should focus in making Him known by proclaiming His Word by trying to evangelize as many people as possible. There was one book in particular that I remember reading that encouraged its reader to make sure and purchase a house that would require minimal yard work, so that one could focus in on the things that truly are eternal and matter. In a word, we should spend all our energy finding opportunity to "preach the gospel" and to save people from their sin. But is that true? Is that how we should spend all our energy and are those three things (God, His Word and souls) all that will continue on into eternity?

The final book I am working through, due before my May 23rd deadline, is Christopher J. H. Wright's The Mission of God's People. Wright writes this on p. 59, "... although it is gloriously true that sinners are saved through the cross of Christ, it is not actually the whole gospel or the whole achievement of the cross- not according to the New Testament itself." Quoting from Col. 1:15-23, Wright says:

Paul links Christ and creation in the most comprehensive way. Christ was there, of course, as the Son of God, even before creation existed (v. 17). Christ is the source of the creation of the universe (v. 16). Christ is beneficiary or heir of all creation ("the firstborn" [v. 15], "for him" [v. 16]). Christ sustains creation in existence (v. 17). Paul includes creation in the saving power of the cross. Christ has redeemed creation (v. 20). It is vital to see here that the blood of Christ, shed on the cross, is the means of the reconciliation of creation to God, not only of sinners. 

Wright concludes on pp. 60-61:

If, then the cross of Christ is good news for the whole creation, our mission must include being and bringing good news to the whole creation. So our care for creation is motivated not solely by the fact that it was created by God and we were commanded to look after it, but also by the fact that it has been redeemed by Christ, and we are to erect signposts towards its ultimate destiny of complete restoration in Christ. God's redemptive mission includes creation. Our mission involves participating in that redemptive work as agents of good news to creation, as well as to people.

Imaging God, by Douglas John Hall

 

Can I have a "do over"? In my last blogpost, I wrote that Hall's book didn't seem to me to have a "direct connection to my audience," so I chose not to blog about it. Well, ... I'd like to re-consider my decision. I will say this much, that as difficult as I found the read from a technical aspect, very few among my audience will find the read (and cost of the book itself- $26 on Amazon... ouch!) worthwhile. So, in that sense I suppose, there isn't a "direct connection." In addition to the technical aspects of the book, I also listened to Hall as he brought into question the entire interpretative process the western church has undergone for the last 2000 years resulting in Hall's mind, in a neglect of a robust understanding of the created order and God's purpose for it. As Hall writes near the end of his book, "A faith that is theocentric is at the same time anthropocentric and geocentric…. we mirror the sovereignty of the divine love in our stewardship of earth" (p. 200). As someone who has a high view of God's providential action in history and someone who essentially "trusts" that there is much the Church has gotten "right" over the years, this was a difficult critique for me to receive at first but as I kept reading (and praying), I found some fundamental value in Hall's writing; here's one of the things I found helpful ... 

I remember a number of years ago listening to a series of tapes by R.C. Sproul on this term "theocentric" which means "God-centered." He made the case that evangelical people tended to be "anthropocentric" rather than "theocentric." Anthropocentric comes from the Greek word anthropos and means "man-centered." Sproul made the case for why, if you listen to evangelical praise choruses, they are often written in the 1st person, "I, me, us" rather than the 2nd and 3rd, "You, Thee, Lord." I appreciated Sproul getting me to think more intentionally about having a God-centered faith, rather than a man-centered faith. A few years later, I think some of my seminary professors brought a different kind of corrective; they helped me to see that we can become so God-centered, that we forget that there is a sense in which God Himself is "man-centered." Think Psalm 8:4- "what is man that you are mindful of him?" This was a great corrective to help me to remember that "God so loved the world" and also that Jesus Himself became a man (Jn. 1:14) for our salvation. I once again found a place in my theology for a healthy kind of anthropocentricism. Also, my seminary professors helped me "come back down to earth" so that I wasn't so "theocentric" so as to find value in being a jerk to others who didn't share my thoughts on God.

Now Hall brings a new idea to mind, to work into my theological paradigm, ... the notion of "geocentrism." What does it mean as a Christian person to care for God's created order (geo referring to the natural order), the world that God made or what Hall calls "extrahuman creation"? In our discussion on theocentrism vs. anthropocentrism, can we neglect or have we neglected entirely the geocentrism of God? Quoting from two authors named Birch and Rassmussen, Hall writes regarding Psalm 104:

God is praised as creator and all sorts of things in creation are enumerated as witnesses to God's glory as creator: the heavens, the seas, the valleys, the mountains, wild asses, cattle, trees, birds, goats, badger, moon, sun, and lions. Then in v. 23 almost casually it states, Man goes forth to his work and to his labor until the evening." Verses 27-30 then conclude of all God's creatures: These all look to thee, to give them their food in due season... 

Is the redemptive activity of God and the redemptive work of Christ directed and limited to the human? Many would say so, but it hardly seems possible biblically. Unless we see human life lived in a vacuum, redemption must involve the rest of nature as well because redemption is precisely God's effort to restore the whole network of relationships that have been broken by sin. This is why new creation is such a helpful image of God's redemptive work. pp. 170-71

Birch and Rassmussen then go on to discuss passages such as Isaiah 55:12-13, Romans 8:21, Colossians 1:15 and Isaiah 11:6-9.

Still Here

I haven't blogged for a little while but wanted you to know I'm still here. Three things happened to me recently: 1) I caught a liberating sense of approaching completion as I'm down to 1.25 books and about 400 pages, after having started in mid-Feb. with what was then a 2800-2900 page journey to be completed by my first D.Min. co-hort meeting May 23rd; 2) I found myself in a book for the degree program that didn't seem to have as direct a connection with my audience, so chose not to blog about it (if you want to know what book, Imaging God: Dominion as Stewardship, by Douglas John Hall; it's the 2nd book in my program so far that I have not blogged about); and 3) I got somewhat "distracted" as I started reading A Problem from Hell by Samantha Power about the history of U.S. policy towards global genocide. Given the subject, I won't call the Power book "pleasure reading," but it's been nice for the first time since mid-Feb. to read something of my own choosing. Then, again my good friend Harry Riggs likes to say, "books choose us." I was given the book after a conversation with my Ethiopian friend Zenebe Beyene who had just introduced me to a young man who lost both his parents in the Rwandan genocide of 1994. Hopefully before too long, I'll have something more to share about my readings.

Callings, part 4 (and final part)

As Placher enters the "fourth historical period" that he calls "Christian Callings in a Post-Christian World, 1800-present," he notes that modern writers have given more attention to the notion of what Karl Marx called "alienated labor." If you have been following this blog, you might recall the notion was often used by Miroslav Volf. Whereas monastic life was viewed early on as a true call from God and all other forms of life and job fell short of the ideal, so the Protestant Reformation shifted thinking that every occupation could be a calling from God. However, the Protestant Reformation also had a tendency to "sanctify" ordinary work and life to the point that some writers began to question whether we should think of anything particularly unique or special about a Christian's calling. German Lutheran Dietrich Bonhoeffer would later write about the "Cost of Discipleship" and the importance of obedience married to faith in the Christian life. Karl Barth wrote, "Protestantism successfully expelled monasticism by recalling the fact that klesis (calling) is the presupposition of all Christian existence. But it lost sight of the divine grandeur and purity of this idea which were always in some sense retained even by monasticism...." (p. 434). To put it bluntly, what's so special about a call from God when everyone has one whether sought out or not?

Nuance regarding jobs and calling grew as we entered an industrial and information age and much of society veered away from an agrarian society. As Placher writes:

Jobs can seem not only meaningless but actually destructive of our lives as Christians. Store clerks and computer programmers miss church because they have to work Sundays.... on average people work longer hours than they did a generation ago, and a long commute often adds to the length of the working day, with less time to spend with spouses and children, less time to be an active church member or an active community citizen. Corporate careers regularly involve multiple moves... parents and grandparents get left behind, to be visited only on rare occasions. In such a context, to urge people to think of their job as the call from God that gives their life meaning may be to push them in exactly the wrong direction, toward centering their lives ever more on jobs that already obsess them.  Callings, p. 327

Certain Christian writers like Jacques Ellul reacted to the Reformation idea of every job being a vocation, i.e. call from God. Ellul made the case for the Bible always speaking of a summons or special invitation to a particular task when using the language of calling. Work is necessary for survival but not as a “superfluous spiritual decoration” (p. 328). Our jobs do not give our lives meaning and the Bible never claims they do, so believed Ellul. American Baptist James Holloway wrote that we don’t know what the prophets and apostles did to earn a living because this wasn’t important to their calling from God; work is not a vocation (p. 328). Stanley Hauwerwas cautions us against making more of work than we should, that work is nothing more than “the means to survive, to be of service to others, and perhaps most of all, … gives us a way to stay busy” (p. 328). Even Miroslav Volf believed that the term “vocation” should be lifted from the Christian idea of work.

So much being written in recent years against the notion of “job as vocation,” Placher pushes back some by seeing there to be high value in many kinds of work but also that vocation can mean a lot of things for a lot of people. Early on priesthood and monastic life comprised an individual sense of call. At other times, like the ones in which we live, Christians have felt “called” to secular jobs or possibly to family life. As Placher writes, “We do not have to limit ‘vocation’ or ‘calling’ to one meaning and then vote it, in that sense, up or down” (p. 330). Job as vocation should stay on the list, but not as the only option. At the end of the day humans want to know, does my life have meaning and purpose?




For some of us, the center of the answer may lie in our jobs- from doctors curing patients to landscapers making the spaces in which people live a bit more beautiful. For others, our jobs will be meaningful primarily only in that they help us support our families, and it will be in the nurturing of a family that we find the core of our life’s vocation. For still others, a hobby may create a community and reward not found in a paid job. Still others may find the activities of their church the work that most gives meaning to their lives. Even on the job, some people may find the support and friendship they give their co-workers more significance than the doing of the job itself. Indeed, in an age when once again committed Christians in Europe and North America may find themselves a minority voice in their society, simply being publicly a Christian, as in the early church, may itself be an important calling…. These are not, moreover, brand new issues…. What should I do with my life? How can I know? Will I find something that gives my life a sense of purpose or meaning? Even through the context in which we ask such questions has grown ever more complex, the Christian tradition still provides us with a range of resources for thinking about how to answer them.  Callings, pp. 330-32

Ordinary Workers and Artists

I turn forty here in less than two months. I've lived enough to know some people who wanted to be artists but were told along the way, likely by a parent, that only the pursuit of a "real job" made practical sense. Having heeded the advice and having become “successful” in their practical pursuits, I've also watched these people entering their late 30s and into their 40s asking the "what if" question about their lives. Dorothy L. Sayers reflects on the incredible tension many feel looking for the search for meaning, yet instead finding themselves working in the “most monotonous and soul-killing kind of toil.” Sayers does this by reflecting on the difference between the “artist” and the “ordinary worker”:

The great primary contrast between the artist and the ordinary worker is this: the worker works to make money, so that he may enjoy those things in life which are not his work and which his work can purchase for him; but the artist makes money by his work in order that he may go on working. The artist does not say: “I must work in order to live”; but “I must contrive to make money so that I may live to work.” For the artist there is no distinction between work and living. His work is his life, and the whole of his life- not merely the material world about him, or the colors and sounds and events that he perceives, but also all his own personality and emotions, the whole of his Life- is the actual material of his work.

… There is a price paid for the artist’s freedom, as for all freedom. He, of all workers in the world, has the least economic security. The money value of his work is at the mercy of every wind of public opinion; …. Moreoever, he is taxed with a singular injustice; while the world pays tribute to his unworldliness by expecting him to place a great deal of his time, energy, and stock-in-trade at the disposal of the community without payment. The artist puts up with these disabilities because his way of life is not primarily rooted in economics. True, he often demands high prices for his work- but he wants the money not in order that he may stop working and go away and do something different, but in order that he may indulge in the luxury of doing some part of his work for nothing. “Thank heaven,” the artist will say, “I’ve made enough with that book, or play, or picture of mine, to take a couple of years off to do my own work”- which he probably means some book or play or picture which will cost him an immense amount of labor and pains and which he has very little chance of selling.… The actor, like other artists, passionately enjoys doing work for nothing or next to nothing if only he can afford to do it. And he never talks of himself as “employed”; if he is employed, he tells you that he is “working.”

… far too many people in this country seem to go about only half alive. All their existence is an effort to escape from what they are doing. And the inevitable result of this is a boredom, a lack of purpose, a passivity which eats life away at the heart and a disillusionment which prompts men to ask what life is all about, and complain, with only too much truth, that they can “make nothing of it.”

… the power that enables men to work with enthusiasm is a real conviction of the worth of their work. They will endure much if, like the artist, they passionately desire to see the job completed and to know that it is very good. But what are we to say about a civilization which employs so many of its workers in doing work which has no worth at all, work which no living man with a soul in him could desire to see, work which has nothing whatever to justify it, except the manufacture of employment and the creation of profits? That is the real vicious circle in which we are all enclosed. That is the real indictment we have to bring against a commercial age.  Callings, pp. 408-12 

Callings, part 3

As we move into the “third historical period” of the Reformation and beyond (1500-1800), Placher documents that we see a dramatic shift in thinking on vocation. To this point in history, the idea was that only clergy had a vocation or “call” from God and that ordinary people who worked ordinary jobs did not so much. The idea was that since to some degree we “work for our salvation”; therefore, only religious jobs truly contribute to this end; that being the case, only religious jobs “counted” as a genuine call from God. However, Martin Luther concluded after reading the Apostle Paul’s writings that salvation did not depend on what we do. Because we are saved purely by the grace of God who loves "sinners, evil persons, fools and weaklings"; therefore, we serve out of gratitude and thanksgiving. We can serve our neighbors simply to serve them, rather than worry so much about how we are helping towards our own salvation (p. 205). Luther argued vigorously that there was no need to enter a monastery or a convent to be an "uber Christian," rather we should remain in whatever station God has placed us and serve God right where we are. Placher writes that when Luther began the Reformation around 1520, between 6-10% of the general population of Germany were priests, monks and nuns; however, only a generation later, that number had dropped by 2/3rds. Monasteries and convents were almost entirely closed and the majority of clergy had married (p. 206). Luther wrote that every Christian has at least two vocations: 1) a spiritual calling (to become Christ’s) and 2) an external calling to a particular line of work. 

There were movements away from Luther’s position, for example the Peasants’ Revolt in Germany in 1525 and the stance of the Levellers in the 1640s who fought to abandon their ordinary occupations. While Luther’s work gave dignity to the ordinary citizen and his job, it also reinforced the existing social order. It became thought of as “sin” to leave the station in life or vocation God had given to a person. In some ways Luther’s teaching, while giving dignity to an ordinary person’s work, also resigned that person to accept their work as God’s call to obedience. To reject or leave the work, was therefore thought to be disobedience to God. This thinking was not accepted by all. While John Calvin agreed with Luther for the most part and warned against the human tendency to restlessness and discontentment with their vocations, nonetheless, Calvin advocated for some freedom of social motion from one job to another (p. 207). Other groups pursued more of a “radical Reformation” (p. 208). Groups like the Mennonites in Holland and North Germany and the Hutterites in Switzerland and Moravia pursued a communal life of simplicity. They viewed the government and the existing social order with suspicion, especially rejecting warfare in particular. Also, they only baptized adults, those who could make a clear commitment to Christ and rebaptized those who had been baptized as infants. These folks became known as “Anabaptists.” Meanwhile, most Catholics continued to think of vocation in terms of priesthood or monastic life and people like Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, Teresa of Ávila of Spain and Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz of Mexico capably defended the values of monastic life. 

As the Reformation continued to spread over Europe, in the 1640s, some members of parliament the Puritans sought to simplify worship and raise moral standards in England. They joined parliament in deposing King Charles I (and eventually beheading him) and placed one of their generals Oliver Cromwell as “Lord Protector” over England. Parliament recruited men of lower and middle classes to form an army while the Puritans sought to reform the Church of England by replacing bishops with elected regional assemblies called “presbyteries.” Independents and Congregationalists wanted local autonomy for their congregations. Baptists wanted to purify the church further by baptizing only those who had made an adult commitment of faith and Quakers found guidance from the “inner light” of the Holy Spirit (p. 209). Religious diversity was significant at this time in England's history. After Cromwell died in 1658, Charles II, the son of Charles I, returned from exile in France in 1660 and reclaimed the throne; the Church of England was reestablished as well. Those who continued to seek to “purify the Church” went underground, suffered persecution or moved to the American colonies. 

Overall, the Puritans spent time encouraging others to look inward. While most Puritans thought themselves to stand in the Reformed tradition as founded by Calvin, they also tended to emphasize individual salvation more so than Calvin. Borrowing from the empiricist philosophy common in the 17th century, direct experience became the best way to “prove” the truth of something. So the Puritans as well as other groups like the Pietists of Germany spent a lot of time analyzing their “religious experience.” Jonathan Edwards and John Wesley spoke at length on the experience of their calling. However a different kind of challenge arose for those who had believed in the radical and free grace of God in Christ; Christians now began to utilize a particular kind of experience as the evidence that someone had been truly "called" by God (in the more general sense, i.e. converted). Some even began to view “success” in certain jobs as evidence of salvation and the idea of “vocation” shifted more and more to mean exclusively “job” (p. 210). The Reformers had sought to build the case that any job could be properly called a “vocation,” but in more recent times, Christians have grappled with the question of, to what extent their jobs should define their lives.

Callings, part 2

As Placher moves into the “second historical period” describing the shape of vocations in the Middle Ages (500-1500), we find that monastic life remains as the “ideal,” nonetheless there is a tremendous degree of nuance that develops in medieval thought, regarding the nature of "calling" on the lives of those who seek after “religious perfection.” For example, Benedict of Nursia lived in southern Italy around 500 and originally had withdrawn into a cave to live as a hermit. However, followers would soon gather around him and Benedict ends up becoming the founder of several monasteries drafting a “rule” to guide those living in his monasteries (not a small development as Benedict now discovers the "pleasure and joy" of fellowship). Placher writes, “By most modern standards, Benedict’s rule demands a very tough life, but what struck many of his contemporaries was its moderation and common sense” (p. 108). Nonetheless, the Benedictine pattern emphasized withdrawal to a communal life of prayer and liturgy.

By the 1200s, a different kind of order appears- the Dominicans and Franciscans. Francis of Assisi who was the son of an Italian merchant felt called to a life of radical poverty. At first, he and his followers resisted owning property and worked for the care of lepers and the marginalized in society. To this point, Benedictine monks prayed for “the world” but their primary focus was to work on their own salvation, i.e. to pursue the “contemplative life.” On the other hand, following Francis, the Franciscans actively cared for others; they pursued the “active life” caring for the poor. At about the same time, Dominic, a Spaniard, likewise sold all his possessions to help the poor; however, Dominic feared those turning away from faith in the church, so sought to develop in the church more effective and better-educated preachers. Before long, the Dominicans became among the educational leaders in the church. So, like the Benedictine monks, the Franciscans and Dominicans also formed groups with special rules and lives dedicated to God; however, their vocations tended to be more directed towards others, in the case of the Franciscans, to caring for the poor and the Dominicans towards preaching and teaching ministries. There was a clear tension between the pursuit of the “contemplative life” as modeled by the Benedictines as well as that of the “active life” as modeled by that of the Franciscans and Dominicans. One example is discovered in the story of Thomas Aquinas and his sense of call. Thomas’ family had him earmarked to join the local Benedictine monastery; instead, Thomas ran away and joined the Dominicans. Thomas’ family was so terrified they had him kidnapped and imprisoned for almost a year before letting him pursue his own sense of vocation (p. 110). Aquinas, who would become the greatest theologian of the Middle Ages, would struggle to sort out the relationship between the active and contemplative life as well as the importance of religious vows with their promises of poverty, chastity and strict obedience (p. 110).   

Developing in the 1100s were a few Christians in the Netherlands who began exploring a sort of “compromise” between “lay” and “religious” life. Beguines (women) and Beghards (men) lived in communities and devoted themselves to prayer and “charity”; however, they also held regular jobs, some even kept private property; they took no permanent vows and could leave the community and marry if they wish. Because of the concern among church authorities for this “alternative approach to religion and life,” the Beguines and Beghards often experienced persecution. By the 14th century in the Netherlands, the Dutch merchant Geert Grote, after an unsuccessful attempt at monastic life, became highly critical of local priests and won many supporters; in so doing, Grote met with his supporters in private homes “after the model of the first apostles” (p. 111). Members of Grote’s “New Devout” would support themselves by engaging in various “secular” vocations (though in those days only “religious” pursuits technically qualified as a vocatio). These “New Devout” took no vows, emphasized simple piety, held in suspicion complex theology and were described in language of the time as being “devout” but not “religious” (p. 111). One of the more remarkable devotional works in the history of Christianity arose from this movement, The Imitation of Christ, now strongly believed to be the work of Thomas à Kempis, a remarkable work to get “ordinary Christians” to think about what it means to lead a “religious” life (p. 111). 

Callings, by William Placher, part 1

Placher compiles an anthology on “twenty centuries of Christian wisdom on vocation” and he organizes his book based on four historical periods: 1) Calling to Christian Life in the Early Church; 2) Religious Vocations in the Middle Ages; 3) The Reformation and Seeing Every Job as Vocation and 4) Vocations in a Post-Christian Age. Placher writes, “Any broad categories oversimplify, but there are roughly four broad periods in Christian history when ‘calling’ has had different meanings” (p. 6).

Beginning with the “first period,” the first several centuries of the church’s existence were not easy ones. Christianity began as an “obscure cult” out of the eastern edge of the Roman Empire and most living in the empire heard of it first in “wild rumors” (p. 23). Christians were said to engage in orgies, wanted the world to end, ate flesh, drank blood and were thought to be unfriendly to neighbors since they would not participate in meals involving the sacrificing to one god or another. Plus, they would not sacrifice to the divine emperor, so were thought to be traitors. Even the “Jesus” they worshipped had been executed by a Roman governor (p. 23). Becoming a Christian often meant isolation from family and friends and, while persecution was only occasional, it did carry the threat of torture and death. Still, the church kept growing. By the early 4th century, Christianity became the official religion of the Roman empire, and some Christians began to feel that living as a Christian had become too easy, safe, socially respectable and comfortable. So they sought out monastic lives of great self-deprivation and lived as ascetics. This kind of radical self-denial “proved” that they were truly following Christ. In the early church, the idea of “call” (klesis) was first and foremost about the call to become a Christian (Rom. 1:6,7) and implied was the “forsaking of all worldly riches and pursuits.” Even those from wealthy backgrounds would sometimes choose the same lifestyles as their servants, in order to “follow the call.” “Spiritual athletes” who trained as Christians just as others might train to accomplish great feats of athletic strength and endurance, became the heroes and heroines of Christians everywhere: in a word, self-denial gave moral authority and lives of exemplary cause to follow. Therefore, even after Christianity became more “acceptable” and to live as a Christian, more comfortable, the thought prevailed that the “spirit of the martyrs” was preserved among those who took up the “call” to lives of monasticism and severe asceticism.

The Heavenly Good of Earthly Work, by Cosden

This was a laborious and difficult read for me but for different reasons than my previous read. After tackling Volf's technical read, "Work in the Spirit," I looked at the writing style and the number of pages of Cosden's book (148 pgs.), and I thought, "I'll get through this one fairly quickly." Not so. Cosden spends a lot of time "exegeting" finer points of Scripture so I found myself mulling over much of his interpretive work, thinking about it, at points coming to a new understanding of "old texts"; at other times thinking, "I respect what Cosden is saying but don't agree with him fully." However, despite the "labor" required (pardon the play on words), my experience was that the book only got better and better as I went along and "my socks were blown off" by the time I reached Cosden's final chapters, especially chapter 6, "Shaping Things to Come: Mission for the Masses.”

Cosden makes the point in chapter 6 (his final chapter) that there is much agreement among various evangelical leaders today that the "modern missions movement" is in crisis, “Most evangelical leaders acknowledge that the western mission enterprise is in trouble and that something is fundamentally wrong with the ‘faith missions movement'” (p. 130).

Cosden gives the example of missions work he did in Russia twenty years ago, right after communism had fallen. This illustration hit me pretty hard as in 1992 I was in Hungary (a former Soviet bloc country that was "liberated" in 1989 with the fall of communism) doing evangelistic missionary work for a couple months. But Cosden writes that right after communism had fallen, "lives and livelihoods were crumbling around us as government-based employment welfare systems, ... fell apart" (p. 128). The most pressing question at that time was, "How does the gospel relate to life?" Cosden writes that "Our model as missionaries guaranteed that we produce 'rice Christians'": in other words, "dependent" Christians who could only hope to be "delivered" from the futility of their situations rather than find hope within them. In a word, this theology of missions that said to people in places like Russia, "trust Jesus and he will save you but has nothing really to say about your 'ordinary lives / work,' but that maybe He just might liberate you to becoming a 'missionary' some day" ... was deeply flawed (and continues to be today). Wow. I finish this post with some Cosden quotes to get us to think more deeply about this "crisis" and the need to re-think how we view work and missions.

“... when done in a way that images God and thus co-operates with him, human work in itself is Christian missionary activity. Why? Because it is largely (though not exclusively) through our work that we reflect God’s image and co-operate with him in bringing people and the whole creation to humanity’s and nature’s ultimate maturity and future…. We are saved to become together the image of Christ, and thus the image of God- and we express and develop this most directly in our work” (pp. 129-130).

“…this means that any understanding of mission that fails to grasp that in itself human work is fundamental to God’s purpose (the mission of God or kingdom of God) for us and creation will be theologically flawed. Likewise, missions thinking that fails to incorporate this theology ultimately undermines the missionary calling of the people of God. For the majority of Christians simply cannot now, nor could they ever, measure up to the modern faith missionary ideal of leaving home and work ‘to work’ for God. For what that understanding of mission unintentionally does is marginalize and thus alienate the vast majority of Christians in the world who will spend most of their lives and life’s energy in ordinary work” (p. 130).

“Thus work is not a platform for mission or evangelism, as if it were somehow subordinate to salvation and eternity. Rather, godly work itself actually spreads by embodying God’s good news, a present experience and foretaste of salvation. For work in itself is a genuine form of life imaging God. It is an ever-open invitation to all to co-operate with God in his purposes” (p. 135).

Work in the Spirit, part 2

This was my most “technical read” so far, yet Volf’s thoughts are not only clear but provocative, challenging and insightful. One part that stuck out to me was when Volf spoke of the concept of “expanding needs.” The thought was basically this: as the wealth of a society grows, its “felt product-needs” grow as well. We begin to think we need more things as “wealth, technology and opportunity” grow in our midst. For example, just a few years ago, I was satisfied with my AOL “dial-up” internet connection. Today, not only do I “need” high-speed access, but I can hardly “go without” my blackberry phone with internet access “all the time.” And don’t we see this in many areas of life as we experience expanding "needs" for “conveniences, according to the nicety and delicacy of taste” (p. 149)? Isn't it much more difficult to be satisfied with “bread and water,” once you’ve tasted delicate pastries and wine?

Nonetheless, what fascinates me the most about Volf’s assessment isn’t so much his assessment; most reading this would agree with this idea of our “expanding felt product needs,” rather what fascinates me the most is Volf’s answer to the “challenge.” He begins by critiquing the more typical Christian response, asceticism, i.e. denial of “good things.” As Volf says, asceticism denies the “dynamic nature” of human needs and misinterprets the “Biblical tradition that affirms the goodness of creation and the enjoyment of it” (Matt. 11:19, 1Tim. 6:17). Still, the “endless spiral in which today’s desires become tomorrow’s needs” must be limited as well, lest great damage result. For one, creation becomes destroyed and ravaged if limits aren’t imposed (see Haiti’s ecological crisis, for example). Also, good things become ultimate things. The consumption of a created thing for enjoyment for the glory of God (a good thing) becomes the sole object of our pursuit and desire, i.e. idolatrous (an ultimate thing) and lives become harmed as a result.

So, if the “answer” is not asceticism, how do we deal with these problems? and affirm the goodness of pursuing material “needs,” at the same time? Volf’s answer is we must see that we have other fundamental needs as well. These are what Volf calls “fundamental non-product needs”: 1) Communion with God; 2) Need for Solidarity with Nature; 3) for Tending to the Well-Being of Others; 4) Human Development of Moral Capacities (nurturing “fruit of the Spirit”) and Practical and Intellectual Skills (developing “gifts of the Spirit”). And ultimately, these “fundamental non-product needs" point us to our single, universal underlying need, ... the Kingdom, i.e. the New Creation (Matt. 6:33).  

In fact, the pursuit of these “non-product” needs are not only a way to keep us from unlimited and unhealthy consumption, but a way for us to realize the fullness of our humanity. So we might see some ways in which these four areas are inter-connected. Working for structures that promote human creativity and flexibility in work, matching human “giftings” (by the Spirit) with work roles and giving workers a clear sense of how their contribution fits into the larger narrative of the purpose behind their work (i.e. the organization’s “larger purpose”), also how their work benefits the “common good” (#4 connects with #3), ... all this fulfills fundamental needs we have. The well-being of society becomes our need and therefore our aim. Also, while work has instrumental value to sustain us and meet our needs, it also becomes an end in itself. You see, our work is meant to glorify God (#1). We see ourselves as working for Him ultimately. As the Reformers insisted, we were meant to work “in play and with the greatest delight” (p. 198). As much as producing efficiently, we were meant to delight in our work as well. Self-forgetfulness is our aim as working for Christ becomes our fundamental pursuit; “everything is added to us as well” as we seek His Kingdom and righteousness (Matt. 6:33). Finally, we steward "non-human creation," because it is a co-heir with us in future glory (Rom. 8:20,21). Not only does this care and preservation of nature (#2) honor a “co-recipient of divine blessing” but benefits others globally and future generations as well. Care of creation becomes a way for producing and extending limited resources to a broader reach (connecting #3 with #2), instead of consuming with only the needs of the individual self in mind.

Where there is creative freedom, understanding of the larger purpose behind the work and how it benefits the common good; where work glorifies God and becomes an end in itself, an object of delight and worship; and where our solidarity with creation and with one another is strengthened, ... the Kingdom comes. Still, it is naïve to ignore the larger structural and economic forces that keep us in roles of “alienating” work. We can pursue these opportunities and seek to place ourselves in the best possible situations; however, part of working for the "common good" means that we examine the systemic and structural evils that keep others from engaging in meaningful / nonalienating / humanizing work. Volf argues that a market economy provides the best possibility for this kind of work; however, that the common good must be a high valuation in this kind of society. What is our responsibility to one another and to the world in which we live? As Calvin once wrote, “It is not enough when a man can say, ‘Oh, I labor, I have my craft,’ or ‘I have such a trade.’ That is not enough. But we must see whether it is good and profitable for the common good, and whether his neighbors may fare better for it” (p. 189). Ultimately, as we work in the Spirit, what we seek is a vision of the New Creation. In the present, we are realistic in that we understand there will always be “toil” this side of “glory,” ... still we work with hopefulness because in our possession is the Resurrection of Christ and the resultant pouring forth of the Spirit's gifts onto His people.

Work in the Spirit, by Miroslav Volf

I can already tell that this book by Volf will be my most "technical read" so far; however, the intro. has already intrigued me greatly. Let me share a section with you, and I will plan to comment again on this work, once I am a little further along:


"I believe that economic systems should be judged primarily by three normative principles: freedom of individuals, satisfaction of the basic needs of all people, and protection of nature from irreparable damage. All three of these principles can be derived from the notion of ‘new creation,’ which in the present book functions as the main ethical norm. First, the concept of new creation implies guarding the individual’s dignity. Each person is created in the image of God and is called to a personal relation with Christ as His brother or sister. In economic life the individual is thus not to be treated as a thing but as a free and responsible agent. Second, the concept of new creation has implications for community. It implies practicing solidarity. Every person is called to be an heir with Christ in the community of God’s people. In economic life this should mobilize us to work for the fulfillment of everyone’s basic needs. In particular, it implies a preferential option for the poor. Third, the concept of new creation has implications for the natural environment. It implies the responsibility of preserving the integrity of nature. Nature is not a mere thing. Rather, the Bible teaches us that it suffers under corruptibility and will participate in the freedom of the children of God (Rom. 8:78ff.). In economic life this implies that protection of nature from irreparable damage must accompany any work on or in nature" (pp. 16,17).

That Distant Land, by Wendell Berry

Berry has a wonderful way of bringing the reader into the fictional community of Port William. With a love for the land and the intricate web of relationships comprising a “membership” of people, Berry takes us into the lives of multiple generations, from a teenage Wheeler Catlett when he is grappling with his mother’s love for her alcoholic baby brother Uncle Peach to an elderly Wheeler getting lost driving, though never admitting it, for “Wheeler assumed that being in motion was the same as being found. If he kept going, he would eventually see something he recognized” (p. 435). Also, we meet Burley Coulter who regretted never marrying the “love of his life” Kate Helen Branch (p. 378), but, after Kate's death, always cared for their son Danny Branch and his family. In fact, Danny and Burley held so much in common with their love for the land, hunting, gathering berries, being men “of the woods and streams," near the end of Burley’s life, Danny with a love for his dad, someone in the early years he called “Uncle Burley,” “sneaks” Burley out of the hospital and brings him to a place by the “old barnhouse” that Burley loved so much, “… the barn had been used for many years only by groundhogs and other wild creatures and by Burley and Danny, who had sheltered there many a raining day or night” (p. 385). Danny buries Burley, “A heavy pressure of finality swelled in his heart and throat as if he might have wept aloud, but as he walked he made no sound. He stepped into the grave and laid the body down” (p. 413). We meet Andy Catlett’s grandfather Mat Feltner who, along with his mother, as a young man, found a way to forgive Thad Coulter who had killed Mat’s father Ben in a moment of rage. Andy writes, “I am blood kin to both sides of that moment when Ben Feltner turned to face Thad Coulter in the road and Thad pulled the trigger. The two families, sundered in the ruin of a friendship, were united again first in new friendship and then in marriage. My grandfather made a peace here that has joined many who would otherwise have been divided. I am the child of his forgiveness” (p. 75). Also we walk with barely-a-teenager Elton Penn who hates his step-father but is welcomed in by Tol and Minnie Proudfoot. As Elton grows, he marries Mary (against her family’s wishes) and works hard as a hired hand on the land of Jack Beechum. Though leaving a vague will, it had always been Jack Beechum’s wish that Elton receive the land at ½ its value, at $200/acre. However the daughter of Jack Beechum, Clara, and her husband Gladston have more interest in profitability than their father’s wishes, so put up the land for sale. At Wheeler Catlett’s prodding, Elton keeps bidding on the land, finally winning it at $300/acre. While Elton has taken on more than he can afford and hates the thought of seeking help from others, Wheeler says to him, “Your debt to Jack Beechum is a debt, and it’s not payable- not to him, anyhow…. This is only human friendship…. It’s not accountable, because we’re dealing in goods and services that we didn’t make, that can’t exist at all except as gifts…. you’re friends and neighbors, you work together, and so there’s lot’s of giving and taking without a price- some that you don’t remember, some that you never knew about. You don’t send a bill. You don’t, if you can help it, keep an account” (pp. 287-88). Many years later, Elton and Mary, with the help of friends, have worked hard to pay off the note. 

What more can we say about these characters of Berry's? We could go on about the wonderful characters of brothers Mart and Art Rowanberry, … the twinkle in their father Early’s eyes when Art returns from the war or the strength of Nancy Beechum who, with her son Mat, chose to forgive her husband’s murderer; the supportiveness of Nathan and Hannah Coulter when their Uncle Burley decides to give his land to Danny and Lyda, instead of to them. 

Berry certainly has a way of “drawing you in” and bringing you into the lives of these dear people as they make their way through the years. The heart awakens to insights and reflections about the human experience that are poignant and penetrating, moving, profound and also ordinary, … ordinary in the sense that the experience of grappling with sadness and hardship is common to us all. I began the book hardly having read much of Berry. I leave it deeply moved and a huge Berry fan. Were I to try and summarize the major themes of Berry's book, they would come down to these: a) friendship; b) land; c) community; and d) the virtues of time-tested ways. Perhaps the reflections near the end of the book summarizes it well:

"Danny Branch was one of Wheeler Catlett’s last comforts, for Danny embodied much of the old integrity of country life that Wheeler had loved and stood for…. In a time when farmers had believed that they had to take their needs to market or they could not prosper, Lyda and Danny ate what they grew or what came, free for the effort, from the river and woods. They drank from their well and milk from their cow, and in winter sat warm beside a stove in which their own wood burned. Because Danny still worked mules, they grew much of their own fuel for farm work. They fertilized their fields mostly with manure from the animals. And so of course they prospered. And so in the last light of Wheeler’s day and time he and Danny had one another’s company, and that was prosperity too, in its way” (p. 433).

Desiring the Kingdom, by James K. A. Smith

Smith writes with the premise that we are first and foremost loving creatures, that too often Christians have overly-emphasized the importance of right doctrine or right thinking to combat the challenges of living in a world that holds much in antithesis with the Gospel of Christ. Not that these emphases are wrong in and of themselves but that they do not go far enough, because ultimately if we are "loving" creatures and not merely "thinking" creatures, then it is going to take more than "right thinking" to transform and change us into the people we are supposed to be. Smith contends that the practices of worship that we partake in on a regular basis, both private and public, individual and corporate, begin to shape our hearts and imaginations as they get embedded into our "social imaginary." These habits begin to give us a love for the vision of the Kingdom of God and to live for it instead of the lesser visions of human flourishing that are all around us. Smith makes the case that there are many "secular (i.e. competing) liturgies" all around us that vie for our affections, become embedded into our hearts and turn our hearts' desires. All these "liturgies" hold forth a kind of vision for human flourishing, i.e. the Kingdom of God, ... yet also hold unsatisfactory, even harmful answers. For example, think about the "liturgies" of national patriotism and sporting events, often intertwined into a common story: a) we say the pledge of allegiance from our youth in school; b) we sing the national anthem at various sporting events; c) we honor fallen soldiers at these events: d) we have military aircraft fly overhead before the start of sporting events; e) we inter-mix stories of "glory" whether that of the gridiron or the battlefield and f) we mix metaphors in both arenas as we speak of "combat, the heat of battle, being a warrior/soldier, etc."  

Now, the emphasis on these themes is not bad in and of itself unless it supplants the dominant image that the Gospel of Christ means to bring us, that we are part of a pan-national citizenship that involves all who have a citizenship in heaven, ... a vision of a Kingdom that involves all peoples, nations and tribes and seeks their shalom and flourishing.  Also, we no longer speak of the "ultimate sacrifice" as necessarily a soldier dying for one country, sometimes in the middle of killing soldiers of other countries, but we redefine the "ultimate sacrifice" after the vision of Isaiah 53 when we're told about "the suffering servant" who was "... oppressed and afflicted, yet ... did not open his mouth; ... led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth."  The "ultimate sacrifice" envisions the One who gave up His life for "all peoples, nations and tribes," for their advantage and flourishing, not only that of one nation. 

But the larger point for Smith is that we have come to assume and "love" these ideas of sacrifice and American nationalism because of the practices and "liturgies" we have participated in, often from youth, and their exercise have created a space in our hearts and imaginations to live out of the power of their narrative.  Yet, for the heart to be changed and transformed to desire the Kingdom of God, counter-formative habits and practices of Christian practice and worship need to be a regular and intentional part of our lives; they must serve as a corrective to the various liturgies that vie for our hearts each and every day (and in many ways have already captured them). Smith walks through the particulars of worship practices rooted in the history and the practice of the Church and in the end makes a case for ecclesial universities that connect the classroom with the worship practices of the Church, as the original question in the opening of his book asks, "what is a Christian education for?"

I'm not yet fully formed on Smith's perspective on the pursuit of building ecclesial universities. While it seems neither to be in Smith's heart nor writing, I wonder if the logical end of forming these kind of schools stands to become sectarian and "anti-cultural," despite Smith writing explicitly against this end. Overall, an amazing and provocative book to get us to think about the things we participate in each and every day that end up capturing our hearts and shaping our lives, sometimes in harmful ways but also to give us a vision for how we "counter" these particular and powerful heart-shaping influences.

The Fabric of Faithfulness, by Steven Garber

Well, what better way to start off reporting on some of my reading than by sharing from Steven Garber, a man who will be one of my primary mentors through the D.Min. program? The premise of The Fabric of Faithfulness is so simple, the goal of the book so clear, the vision, … stunning. Originally this book was written in 1996 to a university audience. In fact, the subtitle in the original edition was Weaving Together Life and Belief During the University Years; however, the book received such a wide readership over the next decade, that the "re-title" in 2006 left out the "During the University Years." What does it mean to give to a young person the tools to connect his presuppositions about life to life and behavior? First of all, what does it mean to give to that young person a worldview that is rich and complex enough to help anchor him in truth in an ever-changing, pluralistic, cynical and broken world? Next, what will it take to find “mentors” who have embodied the connection between worldview convictions, behavior and life? Finally, having observed those who have done this, what does it mean to live among friends and peers who have this same vision of life and conviction that life in this world that God has made is so profoundly meaningful and full of moral goodness, the pursuit of a “good life” as Garber puts it. 


Being in a church that has many university students, I was struck with the amazing privilege we have at Grace Chapel to influence young people, to encourage them to form “habits of the heart” at a time when they will be setting off into the world either to do something “meaningful” with their lives or simply to pursue fame, achievement and riches for their own sakes. Do we spend time understanding our education to be more than a “passport to privilege”? Do we see at the heart of true education, “moral formation” and the rigorous work of cultivating virtue? This was an extremely challenging book to me for a couple of reasons: 1) as said, our congregation is filled with college students, yet how myopic can I as a pastor can get at times, wondering how the “bills” are going to be paid? Instead, how I need to be reminded that our church continues to have a profound stewardship opportunity to invest in young people and to give to them a “moral vision” for life, that what they choose to “do” matters terribly and 2) to think about my own life as an almost-forty-year-old person, to wonder, … having “passed” those “critical years of moral formation,” where I am today. Where has integration and moral formation (or lack thereof) brought me to this point in life? What are the "habits of the heart" formed in my youth that continue to define my life today?

Why the Pursuit of a "D.Min."?

Of course, the irony is not lost on me that the name of my new degree program (Doctor of Ministry) is sometimes abbreviated to "D.Min." Sound it out! and you are likely to wonder, what is this guy who lives on Diablo Dr., wears "Mephisto" shoes and has been said to have somewhat of a devilish grin, ... what is he doing now pursuing a D.Min.??? Well, these were the reasons I gave to Covenant Theological Seminary ...

For years, I have been very interested in questions regarding cultural engagement.  I have led three different “shepherding” groups at our church over the last six years, seeking to see elders raised up in our rather young church.  Some titles we’ve engaged are: 1) Far as the Curse is Found, by M. Williams; 2) Christ and Culture by Niehbur; 3) Resident Aliens by Willimon and Hauweras and most recently 4) Deep Church by Jim Belcher.

Furthermore, books that have impacted me this last year and more recently are: The Rebirth of Orthodoxy by Thomas Oden, The Biography of Cornelius Van Til by John Muether as well as To Change the World by James Davison Hunter.  In Muether’s book, p. 66, he quotes Reformed giant J. Gresham Machen who said these words in his opening address at the opening of Westminster Seminary:

... But we cannot consent to impoverish our message by setting forth less than what we find the Scripture to contain; and we believe that we shall best serve our fellow-Christians, from whatever church they may come, if we set forth not some vague common measure among various creeds, but that great historic Faith that has come through Augustine and Calvin to our own Presbyterian Church.  Glorious is the heritage of the Reformed Faith.  God grant that it may go forth to new triumphs even in the present time of unbelief!

These words struck deeply because I love the Reformed Faith.  Yet, I have grown so deeply over the last ten years of our new church, a church that draws from a variety of traditions and backgrounds.  I celebrated Thomas Oden’s joy when he spoke of a renewal of orthodoxy in mainline traditions that had long ago seemed to be “dead” or apostate.  I so appreciated Tim Keller getting me to think about C.S. Lewis’ “hallway” and seeing the commonality we hold with “mere Christians.”  I was drawn to Belcher’s “Deep Well” illustration of drawing people to the “top tier” of the Gospel and then using discipleship as the tool by which we narrow the focus a bit and seek to train people up in the “bottom tier” of our particular tradition.

Yet, after ten years of having planted and pastored a PCA church, while I celebrate the number of theological students we have trained up, and while I know that our church has had a broad reach, especially to young people sent from us to serve the Lord throughout the world, … yet I wonder two things in particular: 1) how many people have we truly influenced for the Reformed Faith? but also, … 2) is our particular tradition (Reformed) worth fighting for as much as the celebration of historical orthodoxy/“mere Christianity” that so many of our people have come to love and embrace, celebrate and live for, even though sometimes remaining thoughtful Arminians, Baptists, Lutherans and even dispensationalists?  Many have come through our doors over the last ten years, some have been “converted” to the Reformed Faith, yet others have remained with their particular traditions, … yet continue to think well of Grace Chapel (our church), whether they stay or pursue a tradition that more readily identifies with their theological convictions.

What does it mean to celebrate the catholicity of the church, all the while standing firm and rejoicing in a particular tradition (in my case, Reformed)?  And how does this celebration of both work itself out in the life of the local church?  Because, ultimately the question impacts the mission of the Church.  Why?  Didn’t Jesus say something about the world knowing we’re His by the love we have for one another?  How we relate to one another, despite the plurality of traditions represented in the American church, directly impacts the credibility of our message to a watching world.  Doesn’t it?  To borrow from Davison Hunter’s language, what is “Faithful Presence”?  What is it for us as we look towards not only the world that God so loved, but to the right and the left to the various expressions of the Bride He so loved as well?  I’m hoping the D.Min. program can help me grapple further with these questions.  

"Third Phase" of Hsu Bloggy Blog

Originally, I began the Hsu Bloggy Blog to give my congregation updates on how my summer preaching sabbatical was going back in the summer of 2008. Before long, the blog morphed into more of a site documenting the needs of the Haitian people, also that of my various travels to Haiti as well as that of Grace Chapel people.

While I will continue to blog about Haiti, especially when I travel to Haiti, I do believe it's time for the blog to turn to a "third phase." Now that Gene Summerlin has started a Facebook page for Grace Chapel Haiti: GC Haiti Facebook and has also become Grace Chapel's new Haiti Ministries Coordinator (e-mail: gene@gracepca.com), I will shift the attention of my blog to work I am doing on a Doctor of Ministry program at Covenant Theological Seminary (CTS). As I read my books and input journal entries, I will try to document some of that work on the blog, for those who might be interested in my travels through the program.

The program I am pursuing at CTS has an emphasis called "Faith-Vocation-Culture" and seeks to explore the various ways Christians have sought to engage the world; the role of faith as it informs the "things God has given us to do" (our vocation or "vocations"); and how the world means to be "kept" and influenced as a result.

Onto the "third phase"!