Still, I miss this space, and wanted to give anyone who is still inexplicably stoping by a quick update and some reassurance that I was not, for example, imprisoned after an ill fated act of civil disobedience. We are all healthy and doing quite well, if a bit busier than one might hope.

So, with that said, here are a few highlights of my recent writing, reading, and other adventures.

Writing:

Some freelance projects, and Trading our Bombs for Bridges at Deeper Church, which was a short reflection on living as Resurrection people in a cynical world.

Reading:

A few recent stand-outs.

Because I was curious where Rob would go after the-book-that-shall-not-be-named.

Because it has been a fun adventure.

Up next/soon?

And the rest of life:

The Doctor is back!

The weather is finally making a pleasant turn so hopefully I can find an afternoon soon to clean out the garden and get it ready for the new season. I am thinking I will start an asperagus bed this year.

And last but not least, the robust porter I brewed this winter is finally ready. Just opened the first bottle a few days ago, and I am quite pleased with the result.

Grace and Peace,

Mason

In the Christianity Today article Worship Christ the Newborn King, David Neff uses Pius XI’s Quas Primas to discusses the ever-complex relationship between Church, State, and the Lordship of Christ .

“‘the Church, founded by Christ as a perfect society, has a natural and inalienable right to perfect freedom and immunity from the power of the state; and that in fulfilling the task committed to her by God of teaching, ruling, and guiding to eternal bliss those who belong to the kingdom of Christ, she cannot be subject to any external power.’ [Pope Pius XI, 1925]

…Pius was disturbed by nationalism, and so are we whenever nationalist impulses trump the good of all people or loyalty to the international fellowship of Christian believers. In his day Italian, Spanish, and German nationalisms were all asserted at the expense of the church. When love of country is infused with a quasi-religious devotion, it threatens both the freedoms of citizens and the security of neighboring countries. The universal kingship of Christ supersedes our nation’s claims on our loyalties.”

The pope’s approach errs towards triumphalism, too much “already” and too little “not yet,” but his concern with nationalism and the danger of the Church placing the lordship of the State (or an ideology) over the lordship of Christ would seem to be as relevant today as it was in 1925.

“The spirit of wickedness in high places is now so powerful and so many-headed in its incarnations, that there seems nothing more to do than personally to refuse to worship any of the hydra’s heads.” – J.R.R. Tolkien

From his memoir, Hannah’s Child - Hauerwas on encountering Liberal theology in the University, and his attraction to the work of Karl Barth.

“The presumption of many scholars at the time was that the task of theology was to make the language of the faith amenable to standards set by the world. This could be done by subtraction:  ‘Of course you do not have to believe X or Y’; or, by translation, ‘When we say X or Y we really mean…’  I was simply not interested in that project. From my perspective, if the language was not true, then you ought to give it up. I thought the crucial question was not whether Christianity could be made amenable to the world, but could the world be made amenable to what Christians believe? I had not come to the study of theology to play around.

I am not sure why I thought like this, but I suspect it had something to do with being a bricklayer. I simply did not believe in ‘cutting corners.’ I was attracted to Barth because he never cut any of the corners. He never tried to ‘explain.’ Rather, he tried to show how the language works by showing how the language works. There is a ‘no bullshit’ quality to Barth’s thought that appealed to a bricklayer from Texas and that seemed to me the kind of straightforwardness Christian claims require” (p. 59).

Hauerwas delved into this fascination with Barth in more detail in a First Things article titled Karl Barth Dogmatics in Outline, and played off of Barth’s understanding of the word “God” in the essay Naming God at ABC.

Also a part of my reading this morning, an old post by Kim Fabricius, Ten Propositions on Karl Barth.

The Growth of Medieval Theology

The Reformation

Next up, Gordon’s biography of Calvin.

Also of note, I just finished Jamie Smith’s The Fall of Interpretation (which was brilliant), and am adding a couple volumes by Barth and Torrance to the top of my reading list.

This morning I stumbled across the blog The Evangelical Calvinist. So far I’ve only read a couple posts – Thomas Torrance’s View of Scripture as ‘Human’ and Calvin: Right and Wrong on Predestination, Election – but it looks promising and ties into my other reading well at the moment.

I couldn’t be happier that the election is over, but I continue to find the apocalyptic language of both the Religious Right and the Religious Left incredibly disheartening. If Jesus is Lord means anything, it ought to mean the Church participates in a different sort of politics. As Augustine argued, Christians are part of a different polis, and that should determine how we approach the polis of the world – which one would hope leaves little room for uncritical partisan loyalties.

Speaking of Augustine (and Barth, Torrence, Smith, Calvin, the Reformation, etc.), might there be way of being [faithfully] “Reformed” that looks quite different from the way Piper and Co. have defined that term?

I believe so, but I am still wrestling with what that might look like.

On a tangentially related note – it seems I’m not the only one tentatively exploring a more traditioned stream of the faith these days. I have only anecdotal evidence for this, but it seems many who were engaged with emgerent have slowly and quietly begun moving towards something else. Of course, there is a significant difference between taking your next step in a journey and recanting your previous step.

That which I saw and that which was were interchangeable.

But then, one day, I learned that at a young age I had been given glasses.

This was an unsettling development.”

- From my post today at Deeper Church. You can read the rest here.

Although it did not cross my mind at the time, in retrospect it could seem peculiar to begin a film about the Passion with a quotation from anything besides one of the Gospels. It fit though, because Isaiah, and in particular its account of the Suffering Servant, has influenced Christian thought about the death of the Messiah to such an extent that it is often referred to as the Fifth Gospel.

However, the beloved nature of this passage can also lead to overfamiliarity, to our easily skimming over it because we, of course, already know what it has to tell us.

So, when given the opportunity to review The Gospel According to Isaiah 53, I decided the time investment would be worthwhile if I could shake off my too-comfortable familiarity with the text and be challenged afresh by it’s message. I was not disappointed.

Divided into three sections  – Isaiah 53 in Jewish and Christian Interpretation, Biblical Theology, and Practical Theology – this book features a wide-ranging collection of essays on everything from the identity of “The Servant of the Lord” to “Preaching Isaiah 53.”

Of particular interest to me were two of the essays on the New Testament use of Isaiah 53, specifically Darrell Bock on its use in Acts 8 and Craig Evans on its use in Peter, Paul, and Hebrews. As usual I learned quite a bit from both Bock and Evans’ writing, and came to further realize just how pervasive the language of Isaiah 53 is in the New Testament, even and perhaps especially when it is not being directly quoted.

Also, I was intrigued by John Feinberg’s essay “Postmodern Themes from Isaiah 53.” Though not uncritical of postmodernism, Feinburg notes how this passage can be a place of productive commonality with its focus on narrative, community, and power through weakness.

The one part I did not anticipate when I began reading was the book’s emphasis on using Isaiah 53 for evangelizing the Jewish community. In fact, it turns out that part of the impetus for this book was to equip Christian leaders to minister to Jewish people. Though not a strike against the book, it would be worth knowing ahead of time, as the academic nature of the text did not lead me to expect to suddenly be reading about evangelistic technique.

Still, all said The Gospel According to Isaiah 53 was an engaging and worthwhile read, which casts light on a key passage for understanding the mission and death of the Messiah.

_____________________________________

Oh yes, I received this book from Kregal Publishing for the purpose of review. No stipulations were made on the content of said review, but I am required to note this to be compliant with FCC regulations.

“…in recent years, some Christian writers have warned that we shouldn’t mistake right thinking and right behavior for the holistic well being of a person, or a city, for that matter.

James Davison Hunter and Andy Crouch (executive director of the City project) each made this point in To Change the World and Culture Making, respectively. Philosopher Jamie Smith devoted a whole book, Desiring the Kingdom, to this point, stressing that human beings are not chiefly thinkers or believers but worshipers.

It’s here, I argue, that Berry’s vision of community life and creation is most vital for urban evangelicals. For all the things we do well, I’m not convinced that we know how to live as communities of worshipers day to day. Enter Port William.”

You can read the rest here.

 “Are you Catholic or Protestant?” I sometimes get this question from evangelical folks who don’t know me very well, but have heard me talk about liturgy or St. Augustine or spiritual formation or Graham Greene, or what have you. I usually simply answer, “Yes.”

As you might imagine, this engenders furrowed brows of consternation: “Is this guy out to lunch?, they must ask themselves. I asked an either/or question. You can’t answer, ‘Yes.’ You have to choose.” But do I? Can’t I refuse this as a false dichotomy? Is it possible to reject this disjunctive or?

What if we don’t have to choose between being Protestant and Catholic? Indeed, what if being a (magisterial) Protestant is a way to be Catholic? Would that somehow denigrate the Reformation? Would this be a kind of cathedral-envy, making me a Protestant with a bad conscience, sort of a wannabe papist wolf who lurks about Calvin College in Kuyperian sheep’s clothing?

…for me, becoming Reformed was a way of becoming Catholic, because in my pilgrimage to the Reformed confessional tradition I was inducted into a communion self-consciously in continuity with the ancient creeds. To be a member of a church that says the Creed—and whose catechism expounds the Creed—is to be Catholic.

Smith goes on to make a case for a deeply “Catholic” reading of John Calvin and the broader project of the Reformation. You can read the rest here.

Every day – on the TV, on Facebook and Twitter, at home and at work, online and at the dinner table – we hear a constant refrain: this is the most important election of our lives!

Never-mind that we’ve been told that during the lead up to every election I can remember, this time it’s true. If the other side wins, unspeakable events will come to pass, and all we hold dear will be forfeit.

Now, politics matter, and there are certainly differences between the candidates that are worth serious thought before we vote.

However, Christian eschatology, if it means anything to us, has to mean we approach such things in a way different than the world.

You can read the rest here.