Sunday, December 10, 2006

Sulpicius Severus-Life of St. Martin- Preface

Now that the baby excitement has eased down and that the Patristics Carnival has been posted, it is time for me to get on with my promised series on Sulpicius Severus's Life of Saint Martin, Bishop and Confessor (Yes, that is the full title). Adrian Murdoch on Bread and Circuses has saved me the work of a detailed introduction to Severus, so I won't concentrate on this. A few brief words on the actual work, I think, are warranted.

The Life of St. Martin was probably written shortly before St. Martin's death around AD 397. This saint's life was considered, despite Sulpicius Severus' coy denials, a literary masterpiece and exercised a major influence on the Latin hagiograhic tradition. The subject, St. Martin, Bishop of Tours, is portrayed as being a true man of God, whose faith and holiness is demonstrated by his abundant miracles. Born in the 330s, he belonged a military family and was compelled to serve in the Roman army until AD 356. As bishop and monk, St. Martin found himself heavily involved in promoting monasticism in the West, evangelizing the countryside around Tours and involving himself in the ecclesiastical controversies in the West including Arianism (as a protege of St. Hilary of Poitiers) and the Priscillianist controversy.

The first installment of my translation will be the preface to the whole work. My general procedure will be to post the translation and, then, a brief informal commentary on the passage. Please feel free to criticize or comment on either translation or commentary.

Preface: Severus, to his very dear brother, Desiderius

Truly, my like-minded brother, I had decided to conceal in its own pages this little book which I wrote about the life of Saint Martin and to confine it within my domestic walls. Since I am very weak by nature, I was trying to avoid human judgement so that, as is likely, my rather uncouth style should not displease my readers and I should not be judged worthy of everyone’s reproach because I rashly took up material which ought to have been in justice reserved for skilled writers. But, I cannot deny anything you often ask for. For what is there that I would not bestow on you for the sake of your love, even at cost of my disgrace? (2) Nevertheless, I give this book to you because of your promise on the clear understanding that I think it ought not be shown to anyone Yet, I fear that you will serve as a door for it and what was sent out once cannot be called back. (3) If it should happen that you see it is read by other people, you will demand indulgence from its readers so that they should ponder the subject matter rather than the words and bear it calmly, if its defective style should perhaps injure their ears. (4) After all, the Kingdom of God does not depend on eloquence, but on faith. Let them even recall that salvation for the world was not foretold by orators, but by fishermen, since, if oratory had been useful, certainly our Lord could have excelled in it. (5) For, when I first applied my mind to writing, I considered it a sin to conceal the virtues of so great a man, so I decided in my own mind that I should not blush at my grammatical errors. I had never attained great skill in these matters and, even if I had perhaps once tasted these studies, I would have lost all of my skill through long neglect. (6) But, nevertheless, not to linger on so painful a defence, if it seems good to you, let this book be published with the name suppressed. Erase the title on the front as much as you can so that the page may be silent. It is enough to let it speak to the subject matter, not to the author.



Commentary:

To start with, I should note that I haven't had a chance to nail down who the addressee, Desiderius. I'm not even sure we know, but a search of the PLRE (Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire) might turn something up.

I think the noticable thing here is the very commonly used pretence of literary incompetance which characterizes this preface. In itself, this is not an uncommon introduction to a literary work, partly because, even among pagan writers, excessive eloquence was viewed as being slightly suspect. This connects to the distrust we find in philosophy (especially) to the sophists, who were, among other things, rhetoricians whose concern with the manner of speaking was seen as overriding their concern with truth. Plato's animosity to the sophists is only one example of this.

However, Christian writers are even more susceptible to this distrust of literary eloquence. Part of this is a distrust of pagan arts in general, but also the recognition, which Severus alludes to in section 4, that the earliest Christians were not among the literati, nor did they need to be. Many intellectuals even in the 4th century turned up their noses at the writing style of the New Testament (Augustine for one), but the reaction of many Christian writers to this cricismwas to take pride in and imitate their simple and, perhaps, uncouth (meaning non-literary) style. This is not true of all the Fathers, but this disavowal of literary skill remains an important trope in Christian writing in the age of the Fathers.

Of course, Severus is a better writer than he lets on, but his show of modesty is designed to focus attention away from himself and towards the text.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Patristics Carnival-September-November, 2006

Welcome to the first Patristics Carnival!

As usual, my timing for starting a new project is impeccable, what with becoming a new dad amid report card season, but I've done my best to hit the highlights of patristic blogging over the past few months.

I've decided to organize these entries according to the following categories: Introductions to Patristics, Translation, Projects, Applied Patristics, Christian Apocrypha and Patristic News and Article blogs.

Introductions to Patristics

For anyone who has an interest in patristics or even in patristic blogging, the place to start The place I want to start is the same place that many people get started: Mike Aquillina's blog, The Way of the Fathers. Mike's site is a must see for anyone intersted in patristics, partly because his assiduous efforts to post links to others working in the patristics garden and partly because of his own excellent writing. An especially valuable contribution appeared just this month with this Carnival in mind: Meet the Fathers . This cogent post serves as an excellent introduction to why contemporary Christians should read the Fathers.

Translation and the Fathers

Kevin Edgecomb, on his blog, biblicalia, completed his series translating Jerome's Vulgate Prologues, the short introductions to the books of the Bible which Jerome composed in his Vulgate translation. These prologues give us a precious insight into Jerome's mind at the time of this translation and provide us a good insight into the patristic way of reading Scripture. For those of you interested in Biblical Studies as well, these are valuable documents for your consideration!

Rick Brannan, in his ricoblog, continues his ongoing project of translating and commenting on the Didache. So far, he has finished to the chapter on the Eucharist, but there has been a long hiatus between this entry and an anticpated one on Didache 10. Hopefully, we'll see more from Rick on this in the coming months.

Patristic Projects

Father Z, on his blog, What Does Prayer Really Say?, started and completed the Patristics Rosary Project. This project follows the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary and seeks out patristic passages which relate to the mysteries to which this rosary refers. Father Z deals with each subject by citing patristic parallels as explanations of the scriptural passages central to each mystery and, then, includes his own commentary. This is a tremendously learned series, but well worth reading, even for a Protestant such as myself.

As part of a continuing project started in August, Ben Smith, on the team blog, Thoughts on Antiquity, has been reviewing in detail the canonical lists of the books of the Bible. Starting with the introduction, he has discussed the Marcionite canon, the Muratorian canon, the canon of Origen, part one and part two and part one of the Eusebian canon. This very learned series continues, but is a must read for anyone interested in the development of the canon.

General Patristics
This category are for blog entries which are self-contained entries on blogs which may or may not be full-time patristic blogs. I suspect this category should be much larger and more varied because I think most discussions of patristic authors occur in blogs devoted to theology, Biblical Studies or Church History, but this is what I've managed to find.

Patristic Anglican (who uses the wonderful pseudonym, Death Bredon--shades of Dorothy Sayers!)features an excellent blog entry on Patristic Ecclesiology . His excellent summary of how the Fathers do ecclesiology is illuminating and has many, many applications in the ecclesiastical climate these days. Certainly, the two disputing sides in the Anglican Communion could use a few lessons from the Fathers about ecclesiology!

Phil Harland, in his blog, Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean, has an excellent blog entry on the canon. In Breaking News: Early Christians had no New Testatment, Phil discusses the development of the canon. It is an excellent, short summary of the development of the New Testament.

I hope that it isn't gauche to include yourself in a Carnival, but I'll take that risk. This blog, hyperekperisou, originated as a fairly eclectic Anglican blog, but, since, October of this year (when I overdosed on discussions about the Kigali meeting of African primates in the Anglican Communion), I decided to devote this blog entirely to patristics. Since then, I've been contributing essays which try to make a direct connection between the Father and the theological problems faced by Christians today. An example of this output is my entry on St. John Chrysostom, Headship and the Culture Wars in which I discuss St. John's ideas about marriage with the ongoing ideological debate about headship which continues to rage today.

Roger Pierce, creator of The Tertullian Project website, has joined the team blog, Thoughts on Antiquity. He has contributed several excellent articles to that blog including an excellent review of the scholarship of R.J. Hoffman, who attempts to reconstruct ancient anti-Christian polemical authors such as Porphyry, Celsus and Julian the Apostate. In his entry, Useful books or peddling hate?, Pierce reviews Hoffman's translations of the fragments and raises real questions about the quality of this approach to these lost opponents to Christianity.

Christian Apocrypha

This last quarter saw the launch of the first blog devoted specifically devoted to Apocrypha. This blog, Apocryphicity, focuses especially on gathering information on and discussing Christian Apocrypha, which, thanks to Da Vinci's Code et cetera, has seen such a revival in the last few years. This is an excellent site to keep track of what is happening in this exciting new field.

Jim Davilla's PaleoJudaica site, although devoted primarily to publishing news and information on Ancient Judaism, has also featured several important discussions of Christian Apocrypha. Indeed, Jim caused a bit of a buzz among patristic bloggers with an entry in which when he published the abstract of Louis Painchaud's paper (given at the University of Ottawa, which called into question the National Geographic translation of the Gospel of Judas.

Patristic News and Articles blogs

One of the important elements of creating a sense of community among bloggers who share a common interest is the emergence of one or more blogs which make an effort to keep abrest of what is happening with other bloggers or simply try to disseminate information on the topic. In the emerging patristic blogsphere, we are very lucky to have Mike Aquillina's The Way of the Fathers blog which fulfills this function from a Catholic perspective.

Another useful resource is Rob Bradshaw's Earlychurch.org.uk blog which publishes both public domain and recent articles (with permission of the authors) on patristics and the early Church. This is an excellent resource for those interested in following the academic study of patristics.

Well, that is about as much as I have been able to manage this Carnival. As I finish, I'm fully aware of the deficiencies of this first effort; not enough theology, not much Orthodox representation, not enough academic connections. Still, I hope this will help those of us interested in patristics and who blog on it to get to know each other a little. I also hope that this little carnvial will encourage others to try their hand at patristic blogging with all its rewards.

Any volunteers for the next Patristic Carnival in March?

Peace,
Phil

Friday, December 01, 2006

Newborn news

I thought I would let my readers know our first born child has finally (!) arrived. His name is Ian Richard and was born today. Prayers would, of course, be welcome, but mother and baby are doing well.

Needless to say, I may be a little late with the Patristics Carnvial, but I'll try to get it up this week.

Peace,
Phil

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Patristics Carnival-Last Call

I'm afraid I didn't manage a regular entry this week, largely because of baby excitement (my wife has been in and out of the hospital for the last week or so) and report card sesason has prevented me from starting to post my series on Sulpicius Severus' Life of Martin. Mind you, Adrian Murdoch at Bread and Circuses has been doing some good work with Sulpicius Severus, so I offer that as an introduction. He deals with Severus himself, a letter of Severus to Paul the Bishop and Severus and Valentinian I

This week, however, I want to make my last call for nominations for the Patristic Carnival. I've had one or two nominations and have two or three in mind myself, but could use further suggestions. Please send on any other nominations to uperekperisou@yahoo.ca or post a comment here.

Thanks and I still hope, unless my wife is actively having a baby (or just finished), to post the carnival this weekend.

Phil

Sunday, November 19, 2006

St. John Chrysostom and Children

I have been intending to write this entry for about a month, since I started my series on St. John Chrysostom and family life. I've held off partly because I thought three John Chrysostom essays in a row might be too much to a good thing and partly because I wanted to write this entry closer to the impending arrival of our first child. Well, impending is about the right word for where we are in my wife's pregancy right now because it looks like my wife will be induced around the middle of the week. So, St. John's comments on raising children seem particularly appropriate as we get into our last minute preparations for the new arrival.

So, why am I taking advice for this monk-bishop? What does he know about children? I think it is because St. John, for all his ascetic ethos, has a knack for saying the right thing, even when it may be an uncomfortable to hear. So, in Homily 21, talking about Ephesians 6,1-3, St. John takes on that uncomfortable task and, as usual, challenges and encourages his listeners to take the formation of our children as Christians more seriously.

The text, of course, is familiar:
Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right "Honour your father and your mother" (this is the first commandment with a promise) "that it may be well with you and you may live long on the earth. Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the the Lord
St. John's reaction to this passage is give instruction in how to raise an obedient child who seeks out a virtuous life. Unsurprisingly, John calls his listeners to make sure that they cultivate this life in their children by practicing it themselves.

He starts with stressing the importance of reading Scripture to our children in forming a child's character. He dismisses the gibe that reading so much Scripture would make one's children into monks or, perhaps, as we might say it, make our children "so heavenly minded that he is no earthly use'. John dismisses this by saying that he isn't interested in creating monks, but Christians. Whether the diversions and distractions of fourth century Constantinople or twenty-first century North America, it is not doubt that our children face a bewildering set of choices, some of which are more superficially attractive than perhaps a Christian life. So we need to find ways to inspire our children. For Christians, of course, Scripture should be the place to start because it helps us define what is virtuous behavior, but, more importantly, it gives us good examples of the faithful and virtuous life for our children; first of all in Jesus, then in the faithful men and women of the past. As the late Rich Mullins wrote in A Boy like Me/ A Man like You:
And did they tell You stories 'bout the saints of old?
Stories about their faith?
They say stories like that make a boy grow bold
Stories like that make a man walk straight
Our children will hear so many stories in their lifetimes, why not start with our own Christian ones?

John expects us to walk the walk as well as talk the talk. We can't just tell our children to be virtuous or even just read Bible stories. None of these things will influence our children to be Christian if they don't see it done. In fact, it is pretty much guaranteed to turn them off religion in general and Christianity in particular. One of the most sobering thing that I've heard as a prospective father is that one of the keys to having god-fearing children is a god-fearing father. I don't mean that in the sense that we have to strike terror into the hearts of our children by imposing some kind of bogeyman image of God. God-fearing in this context is knowing our place in the universe--that God is God, our Creator and our Redeemer and we are well-loved sinners learning to be saints. As St. John says at the end of his sermon,
Therefore, let us be concerned for our wives and children, and for ourselves as well, and as we educate both ourselves and them, let us beg God to help us in our task. If He sees that we care about this, He will help us; but if we are unconcerned, He will not give us His hand

Yet, a final caveat is needed here. St. John here is talking about how we form virtue in our children and, because of that, he is focusing on what we can do. Yet, as much as virtue and the formation of virtue is important, fatherhood isn't about setting out a set of rules by which our children had better live--a kind of 'my way or the highway' mode of parenting. Rules without an active sense of grace will create rebellion and disdain for one's parents and all authority. As St. John himself notes earlier in this sermon, we don't want our children to be obedient or virtuous out of fear, but out of genuine love of God. We--myself, my wife and my son--will screw up and it is just as important a test of our faith to see how we deal with that. Will I be open to giving and (which is almost harder) receiving forgiveness for the wrong things I will do as a father and husband? Our failures often give us as much, if not more, chance to strengthen our faith and that of those around us as our victorious displays of virtue. I pray for God's hand both in forming in virtue and in learning how to show God's grace to those in my life. With those prayers, I'll muddle along the steep learning curve of being a father. Perhaps you, my readers, will add a few prayers for my wife and me this week as we enter this great adventure called parenthood.

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, November 12, 2006

St. Martin and the Clothing of the Pauper

Yesterday was the patronal festival for the Anglican parish I attend here in Toronto, St. Martin-in-the-Fields. Well, for that matter, it is also the patronal festival for another former parish I attended just over ten years ago in my home town. So, you can say that I feel a real link to this saint, so much so that I've been working on translating Sulpicius Severus' Life of St. Martin for several years as a kind of labour of love for my present parish. For all those reasons, I decided I would preview my translation with what is, certainly, the best known incident of Martin's life: the clothing of the pauper at the gates of Amiens.

As background, let me note that St. Martin was a military saint, of a sort, in that, despite his clear desire to become a monk, he was forced by his pagan, ex-military father to join the army. In the army, Martin tried to live as faithful a life as possible; avoiding the vices of the military life and devoting himself to good works. It was that devotion to good works which brought about the story which follows. So, without more ado, here is the story of St. Martin and the clothing of the pauper.

At that time, when he was used to having nothing except his arms and a simple military uniform, in the middle of the winter which shivered more bitterly cruelly than usual to such an extent that force of the cold killed very many, Martin met a naked pauper in the gate of the city of Amiens, whom all would pass by, although the wretch begged them to take pity on him. Martin, who was full of God, understood that, since others showed no pity, the pauper was reserved for him. Nevertheless, what could he do? He had nothing but his military cloak which he was wearing because he had already used up the rest of his clothing in similar work. Therefore, seizing the sword with which he was armed, he divided the cloak in the middle and he gave part of it to the pauper and he put on the rest. Meanwhile, some of those standing around laughed because, having cut up his clothing, he seemed disfigured. However, some who had a more sane mind, groaned because they had not done something similar, especially because they had more and could clothe the pauper without making themselves naked.

On the following night, when Martin went to sleep, he saw Christ clothed in the part of Martin’s own military cloak which he made for the pauper. He was ordered to look very carefully at the Lord and to recognize the clothing which he had given. Then he heard Jesus saying with a clear voice to the multitude of angels standing around: “Martin, until now a catechumen, made this clothing for me”. The Lord, truly mindful of his own words, who had proclaimed that as long as you did this for the one of the least of them, you did this for me (Matthew 25,40) , acknowledged that He himself had been clothed in the person of the pauper. In order to confirm the evidence of such a great work, he thought it worthwhile to show himself in the clothing which the pauper received. In this vision, that very blessed man was raised up not in human glory, but recognizing the goodness of God in his own work, when he was 22 years old, ran to be baptized. Nevertheless, he did not renounce military service, but was won over by the prayers of his own tribune whom he retained as a friend and tentmate. Because the tribune promised that, after he had completed his tribunate, he would renounce the world with him, Martin was held back by this expectation for almost two years after he had pursued his baptism and served in the army, although only in name.


So, there it is. Let me know what you think either about the story or the translation. This is the first translation I've published online, so I'm a little self-conscious.

Peace,
Phil

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

A Modest Proposal- The Patristic Carnival

Over the last few weeks, I've been rolling around my head the idea of starting a patristics carnival. For those uninitiated in subject-based carnivals, a carnival publishes what is considered the best blog entries in a subject area over a specific time period. The host of the carnival seeks out nominations for best blog posts on the subject, chooses which entries to post, groups them into categories and posts them on their blogs with short summaries.

For those of you who've been around for a while, there are plenty of carnivals out there. In fact, the Biblical Studies Carnival allows for Patristic entries. However, what I'm suggesting is a specifically Patristic Carnival to allow those of us who do blog regularly on the Fathers to see what each other are doing and to network more easily. It is, I think, an important piece to connect up those of us working the Patristics garden in blogosphere.

So, what I propose is patterned after the Biblical Studies Carnival with some modifications:

A. Eligibility
Any blog entry dealing with an aspect of Patristics included, but not limited
to textual studies of a patristic writer, translations of the patristic
writer, historical research on the patristic period, reflections on the
connections of the Church Fathers to today, influence of patristic authors in
theological writing (I'm sure there are more categories possible, so, the
rule is submit or ask and we'll figure it out as we go.)The final
determination of the eligibility of a post must rest with the host (I propose
to do the hosting first)
Amendment- November 12th add discussion of Christian Apocrypha

B. Time Frame:
Writings within the the last three months (so, September 1st-
December 1st in our case)

C. Hosting:
I'm proposing that I host the first installment of this partly because I came up with the idea and partly because a lot of bugs may need working out. I hope that later version will be hosted by other patristic-bloggers.

D: Procedure:
Send me the nominations for the Patristics Carnival at uperekperisou@yahoo.ca by November 30th and I'll hopefully have them edited and up by Sunday, December 3rd (if the birth of our new baby doesn't intervene).

Now, this is merely the draft of a proposal, so please send me ideas to tighten this up, if you see problems. Meanwhile, let the nominations come! I'm open for business.

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, November 05, 2006

R. R. Reno, Old Narnians and the Patristic Project

A few weeks back, Mike Aquilina alerted his readers to Prof. Reno's article in the Catholic journal, First Things. I finally got my hands on the article (thanks to my wife who picked it up for me, bless her heart). Of course, I enjoyed it. How could anyone currently labouring the patristic garden not enjoy an article which, as Mike puts it, makes patristics sound cool and post-modern. Why, those of us who are patristic blogging are even on the cutting edge of this trend because we are studying and, in many cases, trying to popularize the Fathers!

Prof. Reno characterizes the dilemma of faithful Christians in this post-Christan era as a people in disarray. We have fragments of Christianity left, but we really don't know how to connect the pieces in a way that makes sense. Like the Old Narnians who rally behind Prince Caspian, in C.S. Lewis' volume of the same name (soon to be a movie as rumour has it), it is not until the magic horn is sounded and the past kings (or here, past Fathers) are called back, that a more cohesive response is possible. In Lewis, the arrival of Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy not only raises the morale of the embattled Old Narnian army, but it signals the revival of the sleeping power of Old Narnia (embodied in the dryads and the trees). Further, Peter sets the army, demoralized by many defeats, back into order and issues the challenge which leads to the final confrontation with the New Narnians, the Telmarines. The study of the Fathers, Prof. Reno seems to say, is the result of the sounding the magic horn which will reconnect us with the wealth of the past. It is that past which can allow us to re-focus ourselves on what is important in our Christian witness in the post-Christian world.

I think it is important here to note that we aren't returning to the Fathers for mere antiquarian interest or because the patina of age gives a theologian a particular authority. That would lead to the same kind of sterile and theoretical study of the Fathers which caused it to be rightfully dismissed so summarily around the middle of the last century. Yet, the Fathers have something to say to us because, unlike most of Christian history in the West, the Fathers (especially the earlier Fathers) faced a world which, to a large extent, did not understand or want to understand what Christianity was about. They also faced a fragmented Christianity in need of definition. Their problems are not our problems, since we have the added complication that many people believe they've tried Christianity and it didn't work. But, their problems were similar to ours: how do we relate to a non-Christian culture and how do we read the Bible in a way that allows us to witness truthfully to that culture?

It is good news to hear that the study of the Fathers has become more popular in academic theology because this gives us a chance to re-orient ourselves to face the challenge of a new post-Christian world. More importantly, as Prof. Reno notes, it will allow us to re-ignite our Christian imagination which has seen some bad decades at the hands of the hyper-literalism practiced by both conservative and liberal scholars. The patristic imagination was fired by Scripture in a way that we're only just now starting to experience. Reading the Fathers not only provides us with information to write the history of the Early Church, or theological tidbits to quote or catenae of Biblical exposition, but their integration of thought and prayer should point us towards a different way of doing theology: where intellectual, mystical and imaginative approaches are no longer seen as opposites, but as compliments. Theology, the Fathers teach us, is not the found only in the scholarly ivory tower, but, also, in the lives of individual believers.

What the Fathers contribute is a reference point to ways of reading Scripture which work both theoretically and practically. That way, while being immersed in Scripture like the Fathers, we won't lose our way, pulled this way or that by the treacherous currents of our unguided imaginations. The rule of faith, like the Gulf Stream, will pull us along as we read Scripture to where we all seek: the Kingdom of God.

The horn has been sounded and we New Narnians have met the Fathers as they return from the distant past, not just as a common reference point to start our theological journey, but as guides on the way ahead.

Peace,
Phil

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Twenty Theological Books Which Have Influenced Me

I decided to follow the lead of Ben Myers over at Faith and Theology and publish my top twenty theological books which have shaped me. I should note that, as befits a theological amateur, I've included some more popular works for the simple reason that they have been influential in the way I think about and, more importantly, practice my faith. So, here we are, in no particular order (ranking was simply beyond me tonight), but with a little commentary. I've followed Ben's rule of citing only one work per author.

St. Augustine of Hippo, Confessions
I first read the confessions as I was becoming a Christian, which is
a bracing way to convert.

St. Irenaeus of Lyons, On the Detection and Refutation of the Knowledge Falsely So-Called
This was my entry into patristics way back in my fourth year BA,
when I was working on a paper dealing with the canon and the
Gnostics. I just keep coming on back to Irenaeus and the Gnostic
problem

Stanley Hauerwas, Peaceable Kingdom
One of the two major works which convinced me to be a Christian
pacifist. Besides, Hauerwas is a great read!

John Howard Yoder, Politics of Jesus
The other Christian pacifist work which has profoundly influenced
my thinking on the subject.

Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue
I ran into MacIntyre's critique of modernity years before I read him
firsthand. If I had read him earlier, perhaps my major field paper
(in Classics) wouldn't have been such a debacle.

William Cavenaugh, Torture and Eucharist
Cavenaugh really highlighted to me the potential for challenging the
powers of this world with his contention that the Eucharist was a
radical weapon against political dictators looking to divide and
rule their subjects.

Chistopher Hall, Reading Scripture With the Church
Fathers

I ran into this book in a large book chain of all places and bought
it on a whim. The result was I got excited about the Fathers and
wanted to start studying them.

N.T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God
I had to include Bishop Wright. Nobody can eviscerate anyone quite
so elegantly or explain Scripture so clearly.

Eusebius of Caesarea, Ecclesiastical History
What kind of church historian would I be without a bow to Eusebius?

Ephraim Radner, The End of the Church. A Pneumatology of Christian Division in the West
Radner is largely responsible for keeping me in the Anglican Church
because of his willingness to criticize the church as it is now
and his unwillingness to go into schism. Don't expect easy answers
with Radner, or simple sentences.

Brother Lawrence
Not a theological work per se, but this 17th century monk taught me
as much as I know about seeking the presence of God in the present.
I'm not sure I'm good at it, but I'm trying.

Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out
Also not a theological work per se, but Nouwen has been important in
working out other areas of my life, so he deserves his place in the
list.

C.S. Lewis, Narnia Chronicles (Okay, I'm cheating)
I keep coming back to the Narnia Chronicles when I'm sick or just
want a reminder of a simple, but deep faith. Besides, I like lions.

Way of the Pilgrim
I first ran into the Way of the Pilgrim through J.D. Salinger's
Franny and Zooey. Reading him first hand didn't send me into my room
mumbling the Jesus Prayer, but it did teach me about humility and
the importance of prayer.

Kathleen Norris, Cloister Walk
I read and re-read Kathleen Norris when I'm having an anxious night.
She simply relaxes me with her sane, if not particularly rigourously
theological, insights on faith.

George Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine
Can we say the 'grammar of theology' folks? Of course, we can. For
that metaphor alone, Lindback deserves a place in this list.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship
The contrast between cheap and costly grace is what caught my
attention with Bonhoeffer.

Tertullian, de spectaculis
Perhaps this is an odd choice within the oeuvre of Tertullian, but
the de spectaculis first gave me the idea of trying to connect a
Father with what is happening now. What does Hollywood have to do
with Jersusalem?


Justin Martyr, Apologies
These intrigue me because of their form as forensic speeches in
defence of Christianity. They are a gold mine for anyone interested
in how being a Christian changes our relationship with the power-
brokers of this world.

Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb
A theological treatise disguised as a cooking book, The Supper of the
Lamb teaches about the sacramentality of everyday life. Besides, I
quoted it a couple of weeks ago when I decided to change course into
patristic blogging.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

St. John Chrysostom, Mutuality and Marital Fidelity



It seems that I've started a series on John Chrysostom and family life without fully realizing it. Well, okay, I had a suspicion last week because I realized that I wanted to write about more on John's view of the family and of marriage than I had room for in a single blog entry (unless I would start a blog tome).

What I want to look at is John's Homily 19 in which he discusses a passage from 1 Corinthians 7
Now concerning the matters about which you wrote. It is well for a man not to touch a woman. But because of the temptation to immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.
From this starting point, John goes on to set out a sexual ethic, based on Paul's teaching in his letters which I really think we would be well to listen to in this age of ethical confusion.

What is striking about John's discussion about marital relations is the degree to which John emphasizes that one's control of our body and sexuality is no longer our own (if it ever was) when we are married. This is, of course, a sore point for many feminists who react instinctively to any suggestion that any man can tell a woman what to do with her body. And, in a sense, John fuels that reaction because he states very explicitly that the wife has not control over the body and is the slave of her husband. That certainly isn't going to play well among feminists.

Yet, if we focus only on that point, we've lost entirely John's point almost entirely. The very passage which affirms that the wife is the slave to the husband in regard to the body also makes it clear that she is his ruler. He elaborates his position by commenting that Paul speaks of conjugal rights in the terms of a mutual debt. That is, both husband's and the wife's body are not their own anymore. John's point is that, since both husband and wife no longer are sole masters over their bodies, adultery, for one thing, should be considered almost like theft:
As for you, husband, if a prostitute tries to seduce you, tell her "My body is not my own, but my wife's". And let the wife say the same to any man who is undermining her fidelity: "My body is not my own, but my husbands"
The obligation to remain faithful in body and (I think we can understand) soul is binding on male and female.

What is interesting here is that John openly admits that he is preaching an egalitarian idea here about the bodies of married people (and also, interestingly, about the money of married people). You can sense a bit of discomfort here, I think, because John recognizes that this could be taken to fly in the face of the headship image he promotes elsewhere. Yet, he closes off the possibility of the double standard enshrined in Roman divorce laws, at any rate in which a husband could divorce a wife for infidelity, but a woman generally couldn't do so on her own power.

I think John here is emphasizing here something that we in this enlightened modern age have forgotten. He emphasizes that marriage isn't a contract between autonomous individuals, but a giving of each other in service to each other in God. Sexual fidelity, I think, is only a symbol of this kind of mutual self-giving which is so essential in a marriage. In our individualism and the selfishness that comes from that, we, as a society, have tended to only ask what is in the relationship for me, me, ME! What John points out is that we are called to serve each other in marriage. If we only got that point clear, just among Christians even, I'm sure our divorce rate would plummet. From my mouth to God's ear.

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, October 22, 2006

St. John Chrysostom: Headship and the Culture Wars


I've been on a bit of a John Chrysostom kick recently, since I have, finally, got around to reading a couple collections of John's sermons from St. Vladimir Press' Popular Patristics series(an indispensable source of patristic writers for the patristic amateur). I really like St. John. John is an easy Father to get into because, ultimately, he is grounded in the nitty-gritty of Christian life and, while he clearly understands theology, he has a knack for relating it back to everyday life in a way that makes it clear that he knows where the rubber hits the road. That is, of course, because John is primarily a sermon writer, not a philosophical theologian, but it is a valuable gift and one that he liberally bestowed on the Church of his day and for the generations following.

So, yesterday, when I was contemplating this entry, I decided I would go back and have a second look at the Marriage and Family Life collection I had been reading until last week. In particular, I began to re-read his Homily 20 on Ephesians 5,22-3.

I have to admit I find that particular passage of Ephesians a bit difficult. Not so much because I have a particular problem with what Paul is actually saying, but, really, because of the memory of what people think Paul is actually saying. My experience, of course, is formed by my early intellectual formation at university during the Culture Wars of the 1980s and 90s. So my squeamishness on the subject comes from my discomfort with the polarization of the debate over the how the marital relationship should work.

On one side, we heard feminist accusations that the Bible promoted patriarchy and submission of women to men which had to be broken, if we expected to live in a free and democratic society amid gender equality and respect. Ephesians 5:22-3, in particular, was a passage feminists love to hate because Paul thought wives should be subject to their husbands and, after all, what call did any man have to demand that? Besides, they would argue, how many women were kept oppressed and abused because religious authorities connived in this abuse of women by citing this passage to support the unequivocal right of the man to rule in the household? Surely, we just have to accept that Paul was a misogynist and dismiss his talk of submission as mere patriarchal tripe.

On the other side, we heard the voice of the religious right which insisted that the headship of men over women meant that all the decisions of the Christian home should be made by the man. Women could take care of the babies, but shouldn't seek much more than that because they simply weren't cut out for it. Clearly, the headship of men was established by God because, clearly, men were best able to deal with the outside world. Women were too emotional and fragile to function outside the home, so they should be left where their nurturing talents were best employed: the Christian home. The ideal here was the 1950s middle class dream in which the father brings home the bacon and mother cooks it up for father and the kids.

I do recognize that both of these positions are caricatures. The reality of the visions of both sides of the Culture Wars was much more nuanced and varied that I present here. Yet, in the ideologically over-heated debates of that period (which continue until today) the subtleties and the nuances of each position were usually ignored and the broad lines of the debate in the media accentuated these caricatured positions (possibly because a clash of black and white ideas gives better ratings).

This line of thought brought me back to John's homily. In this homily, John can hardly be accused of being pro-feminist. Like most of the Fathers, he is not only unsympathetic with the idea of gender equality, but he is incredulous that anyone would propose it. He plainly thinks someone should take leadership in the family and that person should be the father. So, in that sense, he strongly favours the headship model of Christian marriage. On his side, of course, is that his position is strongly supported by Scripture. Time and again, in Ephesians and in other letters, Scripture makes the headship of the husband the norm in the Christian home. As John himself points out, Scripture even goes as far as making this marital headship the metaphor to describe Jesus' relationship with the Church as a whole. If this headship model wasn't intended to be binding on Christians, how could Scripture use such a metaphor for the whole Church?

I admit this is the point where I start getting uncomfortable. In the Culture Wars, if I was forced to align myself (my favoured position being sitting firmly on the fence), I would have aligned myself with the feminist view. I have few problems with seeing women work outside the home, although I worry when one or both parents are engrossed in their careers to the neglect of their children. I think very well of my wife's intelligence and ability to contribute to the world outside the home. All too often I hear the term headship and I start squirming because it all sounds too authoritarian and uncomfortable to me.

Yet John points the way out of this modern false dichotomy. Yes, he affirms that wives should be subject and obedience to their husbands. He makes it very clear that wives should show respect to their husbands, even if their husbands aren't very loving. Yet he also makes it clear that the obedience of the wife should not be the fearful obedience of a slave, but rather the response to the loving care of the husband. Just as Christ loves the Church and does everything to take care of it, so the human husband should do for his wife and family. That means a willingness to take the actions of love whenever they arise, even if one's wife or child aren't being particularly obedient or respectful. For John, the head of the household wasn't the authoritarian Roman pater familias with the power of life and death over his family and the willingness to use it, but the self-sacrificial Christ, who loves the Church into redemption. The true mark of the head of the family is self-sacrificial love, not naked power enforcing a fearful submission.

The trick, of course, is the application of this practice in my life. How do I, as a husband, balance the leadership which God expects of me with the loving self-sacrifice which is integral to the husband's role in a Christian marriage? I can't say I have all the answers or that the answers that I do have are the right ones. What I like about John, though, is that he points the way to a Christian practice of marriage which avoids the extremes of the modern Culture Wars, but points to an ideal which recognizes human frailty and calls on us to transcend those faults by applying the balm of love and prayer. I can't think of a better way to proceed.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Call for Patristic Blogs

As part of my effort to remake hyperekperisou, I thought it might be interesting to compile a list of patristic blogs. I have a short list of blogs in which tend to specialize in patristics, but I'd be interested in those I'm missing as well as one which discuss patristics occasonally. Also ,any ideas for the patristics links would be helpfu. I intend to add more, but those were the basics I wanted to start with. Either post your suggetions to the comments to this entry or e-mail them to me.

Phil

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Enough with the schism already! A new direction?

After a little Sunday night reflection on my last post, I do wonder if it is time to back away from specifically Anglican issues for now. God knows that I have enough venues to discuss those issues and, as I recall my first post, I seem to have promised that this blog wasn't going to be reduced to merely another Anglican conservative spouting off. I don't want this blog only or even principally to be known as an Anglican blog. So, it seems time for a change in direction.

The direction I think I want to head for is what, for the want of a better term, could be called applied patristics. I've been experimenting with this idea since June (see particularly my What does Hollywood have to do with Jerusalem, but I'm starting to wonder if this would be a better and healthier contribution to blogosphere in general.

In making this change in direction, I note that I'm going out on a limb. I have no formal patristics training, although I have a fair bit of Classics training. I am a rank amateur in patristics, but, as Robert Farrar Capon notes in The Supper of the Lamb, the world needs more amateurs. As Capon opines "the amateur--the lover, the man who thinks heedlessness a sin and boredom a heresy--is just the man you need. More than that, whether you think you need him or not, he is a man who is bound, by his love, to speak." So, let me think this week and, then, let me speak in due course.

Prayers for inspiration are always welcome.

Peace,
Phil

Further Thoughts on Schism

I've been thinking about some discussion I've been having about schism; one on Orthodox Episcopal Board and below one in the Kigali thread. I've rightly been taken to task about my arguments about schism, largely because they can be misunderstood as meaning that there is no right for anyone to leave a heretical church. So, I need to clarify my argument.

I think we do have to understand first what we mean by schism and how that applies to the current conditions in the Anglican Communion. So, what is schism? Alister MacGrath (Christian Theology. An Introduction, p.502)) defines it very simply as a deliberate break with the unity of the church and notes it condemnation by Sts Cyprian and Augustine, among others. That seems clear enough.

The problem, of course, is just what constitutes a deliberate break with the unity of the church and how to define that unity. Dave Williams in the Kigali conversation rightly pointed out that, in our current multi-denominational universe, schism doesn't make too much sense. What unity are we talking about? Dave is right, of course, although I note that the current state of church division (fragmentation?) while it has been normalized, these schisms can hardly bee seen as a good thing. Variety of worship and theology is good, certainly, but the lack of charity and lack of concern with underlying unity which produced the denominational divisions in the first place was sinful. We can talk about who is to blame for this or that schism, of course, but I suspect we'll find that the sin is distributed fairly equally among the participants. Yet, schism, like any factionalism in the church, is the result of human willfulness and sin.

Yet, I hasten to add, we live in a mixed church- partly sinful and partly saintly-which means we have to confront the problem of disunity in the church. Here the question is what is the boundary point between staying in unity with the church and stepping outside of it. Here, I submit that a decision to enunciate or, worse, act upon a position not accepted by the church (i.e. before the rest of the church is convinced of the rightness of a position), this is already a schismatic act. It is a stepping out of the church (whether we are speaking of the universal church or a particular denomination). In the case of merely enunciating such a position, we can and should employ persuasion to draw the person back to unity. Yet, a stubborn refusal to listen to such admonishment or deliberate action in line with this position is harder to reconcile. At the end of the process, an acceptance of this schism implied in the initial action may prove necessary.

Of course, this whole argument is made in the context of the current situation of the Anglican Communion. I would agree with conservative arguments that General Convention 2003 and the decision of the Diocese of New Westminster to sanction same-sex blessing were schismatic actions. This means that what we have to decide as conservatives is what to do about this schism. Some conservatives have argued that we've done all the admonishing needed and we should just let the schism happen and harden. That is a compelling position, but one that I disagree with.

My own decision to stay with AC of Canada over the past years is based on the belief that I have to earn my way out. That is, I have to continue to admonish the liberal position of my church where I am until I believe that the schismatic impulse has hardened to the point that there is a refusal to listen. I very simply don't think we've reached that point in the AC of Canada. In fact, I would argue that the events of the last few years with the Windsor process has given me more hope that AC of Canada can be salvaged. This is why I don't think this is the time to leave because, by leaving, I believe I would be simply enabling the liberal element in the church in their error by enervating the conservative opposition. We can see the results of this in General Convention 2006 because the conservatives were simply too weakened by the exodus of conservatives after 2003 to make a real fight to support the Windsor process. The result is deepening schism in TEC.

I am a stubborn man, I have to say, so I may well be holding on longer than I need to. Yet, this is what I see out there and holding on is what I believe I'm called to do.

Peace,
Phil

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Judas may be evil after all? Who knew?

I ran into this news on Phil Harland's blog, Religions of the Ancient World and couldn't stop laughing. After all the hype and media splash around the Gospel of Judas in the spring, it turns out the National Geographic version of this gospel may have been badly mistranslated. Louis Painchaud, a professor at Laval University, has argued in a recent paper (abstract posted by Jim Davila at PaleoJudaica). Painchaud's main point is "A close reading of the Gospel of Judas reveals a totally different picture. Judas is guilty of sacrificing the man who wore Jesus, he is a demon, misled by his star, and he will never make it to the place reserved for the Holy Generation." Painchaud attributes the mistranslation to importing the testimony of Irenaeus and Epiphanius into the document, not reading it in its own right.

Of course, we need to be cautious here. This is merely a counter claim and needs to be verified by other Coptic scholars. Also, it really only addresses whether Judas is meant to be a postiive or negative figure in the Gospel. It says little about any of the theology enunciated by the 'Jesus' in it. Still, it is an interesting development.

I think I'm with Phil Harland on this. I wish I knew Coptic too!

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Kigali, Covenant and Communion

I can't say that I'm rushing in where angels fear to tread for the simple reason that I'm hardly rushing in (I think the angels, if they have any sense, still fear to tread where I'm going). The Kigali Communique has been issued for over a week now and I've been spending part of this week twisting my head around it, both in the light of the ecclesial position that the Anglican Communion and in the light of my own hopes and fears about the future of that Communion. The following are some observations.

First, most obviously, there has been plenty of heat and very little light in the response in Anglican blogosphere. Very simple, conservatives are dancing in the virtual streets. Liberals are in a rage at the perceived impertinence of the communique. There are plenty of charges of skullduggery, dishonesty and conspiracy which have been answered by the theological equivalent of 'so's your mother!'. Even the Chapman memo from Jan. 2002 has experienced a glorious (sic!) resurrection as evidence of this conservative plot which has come to fruition at Kigali.

Now, it sounds like I'm dismissive of this whole debate. I'm not. Yet, we have to always keep in mind that both sides are feeling hurt and angry, so sometimes fall into mere polemics, instead of meaningful analysis and discussion. This is natural, but it is, I would point out, fatal, if we have any chance to salvage anything out of this ecclesial mess that TEC is in and which threatens the AC of Canada.

Second, I was actually mildly comforted by Kigali, largely because the Global South primates hadn't gone as far as I feared they might. I honestly thought there was a real possibility that they would simply declare TEC apostate (they kind of did this) and declared a new province in the US on their own. This second point would have finished any attempt to avoid schism and scuttled the AbC's Covenant proposals before they even got off the ground. That would have been tragic because I really do think that these proposals are perhaps the only chance we have to avoiding a scenario where the whole Communion will fly apart in the same way that TEC is well in the process of doing so. Now, I grant you that the Global South primates have not renounced the option of creating that new province, but merely postponed it to the indefinite future. That gives us a breathing space, albeit a short one.

Okay, this comfort that I feel about Kigali is rather a cold one. It is the choice between complete destruction now and impending destruction later. Still, nothing irrevocable has been done yet by the Global South. That is good.

Lastly, even granting that the Global South primates haven't gone as far as I feared, I'm still concerned. I'm concerned because even the threat to set up a new province is deeply problematic. For one thing, the Windsor Report made it clear that this kind of extra-provincial interference is really not on, however understandable it is, given the situation in the TEC. All too often, conservatives forget that Windsor spoke against this kind of interference, even if it concedes that those who have indulged in this kind of oversight have done it from the good motive of giving pastoral support to parishes which cannot accept GC 2003 or their bishop's support for the ordination of Gene Robinson or which face sanctions for their position. Yet, these extra-provincial interventions merely add to the confusion in the American church.

Further, these interventions are deeply problematic as far as ecclesiology goes. If we are a tradition which claims catholicity, then we should be extremely cautious about allowing actions which encourage schism. We are a tradition which, in the words of priest that my wife knew, rejects splitting as a means of theological discourse. I fully grant that TEC (and to a lesser extent, AC of Canada) have already broken into schism with the rest of the Communion because of their actions in 2003/4 and their failure to admit their mistake since. Yet, I don't think compounding the damage helps which is precisely what extra-provincial intervention is doing.

What I mean by that comment is that one of the unintended effects of this kind of intervention is that it saps the strength of the conservative cause within TEC and the AC of Canada. That is, by siphoning off conservatives to alternative Anglican churches, it makes the task of pulling an erring church more difficult for those who decide to stay and fight. Quite legitimately, liberals can disregard conservative positions because they are not, all too often, present in sufficient numbers to make their case. So, what conservatives fear the most, a drift to the theological left, is precisely what must happen because there is no countervailing force to prevent it.

A commentator in the last week or so commented that what Archbishop Williams needs is a moderate conservative voice in TEC (and, again, by implication, in the AC of Canada)which can make itself heard and pressure the rest of the church to greater compliance with Windsor. Extra-territorial intervention is putting that at jeopardy because it siphons off conservatives. Besides, it polarizes politics because it means that liberals simply will come to trust conservative less and less as they increasingly leave and get embroiled in nasty court battles over property (don't get me started on that point either!). Yet, there is hope. There are voices out there who are moderate and conservative (Ephraim Radner, Philip Turner to name two). I hope and pray that more will emerge in the next few months of this breathing space that Kigali gave us.

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Exile and Our Return

I was thinking about what to write early this morning and really wasn't getting any ideas. Nothing patristic was jumping to my head. While there is lots of activity in Anglican blogsophere with the reaction to the Global South's meeting this week exploding into the ether, I have made a rule not to make pronouncements on such contentinous topics until I've read news from less impassioned sources (which I haven't done) and until I have time to think, pray and reflect. So, I was a little stumped.

Then, I sat down this morning and read a little bit from Kathleen Norris' Cloister Walk and an idea came to my head. Exile. Why not exile?

I have to admit that I'm particularly susceptible to writing about the experience of exile. Even before I became Christian, I found the Biblical stories which featured exile particularly enticing. I wrote a story in late high school on the experience of the Babylonian exile; not as one whose faith held, but as one who was really not sure about anything (a reflection of my own spiritual state at the time). A few years later, I wrote a Tower of Babel re-write as a goodbye gift for a somewhat estranged friend. In both stories, the experience of exile was very strong, but there really was not prospect that that exile would ever end. What interested me at that time was an experience of forsakenness, a time when faith seems to fail, but life needs to keep going.

In many ways, I think that was an expression of where I was mentally, emotionally and spiritually. At the time, I really couldn't think how a life with God looked, but, in many ways, I felt I was missing something; that I was in exile from something I couldn't quite identify. At the same time as these stories, I was writing essay after essay in university on religious topics and talking to anyone who'd listen about faith and my lack thereof. The irony, of course, is that, in retrospect, I recognize that a friend, who commented gently one night that she thought I had rather more faith than I gave myself credit for, was probably exactly right. How can someone experience feelings of exile, if he didn't have an idea of missing what he is exiled from? In that sense, those feelings of exile were the first stirrings of the grace that would set me on the road of return to God and my home with him.

It took several years, but I, finally, realized that exile, at least in the Christian sense, always contains the promise of return. At least, it does in the Bible. The people of Israel experienced their flight from Egypt and their wanderings in the desert as an exile from the good things of Egypt, but found, perhaps to their surprise, that the land promised to them by God was a better home to return to. Those sent out on the Babylonian exile, to their surprise, found themselves able to return after seventy years. Then, there is us, called to be God's people in this alien world, but knowing that there is a home to which we are returning. We aren't there yet, but I know we're on that road.

It wasn't until I realized that the road to my return from exile was open and had always open that I realized that I had been the one who was wandering aimlessly in the wilderness. It wasn't until I openned myself to God's grace and accepted his working to renovate my life that I started down that road of return. In my heart, I am no different that those Israelites who, wandering in the desert, get distracted by every which thing and have to be prodded back to the road which promised their return. Yet, with God's help, I am on this path and look foward to my return to the home promised me by Jesus.

With that in mind, I offer this poem, this prayer:

I have seen my new country,
Resplendent and full of joy.
I have seen my new country,
Full of hope and grace.
Teach me how to cross
In flood and draught
That Jordan of my soul
To that land
Promised of old.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Tradition and Early Christianity

This week, I've had an interesting discussion with Phil Harland over at Religions of the Ancient World about the canon, which settled into a discussion about the position of (proto-)orthodox Christians in the early Church. We disagreed, which is fair enough, but what the discussion led me to think about what the nature of traditions in an ancient society. The reason for this is that I think Prof. Harland may be assuming that I'm coming from a naive Eusebian position (see Dr. Harland's outline of three classic scholarly positions on the early church here). I'm not, but it takes some explaining to make that clear. So that is what I'm going to try to do.

I think that the key point of difference between what I'm trying to get at and what I may be coming off as trying to get at is what I mean by an orthodox tradition. Or, more specifically, what I mean by tradition. This is a tricky concept, partly because the term tradition has become something of bete-noire in intellectual circles after the Enlightenment and partly because it has become a polemical term in our more modern culture wars. Yet, I think we need to unpack what a tradition actually is. Here astute readers may recognize the influence of Alasdair McIntyre, a Catholic philosopher out of Notre Dame.

A tradition, in my view, is a relatively coherent body of thought which is characterized both by a narrative featuring a coherent group of people and how they believe they fit in the world and by a running conversation or commentary over time about how this narrative should be interpreted and appropriated by the individuals in that community. It is not calcified belief, but rather must be dynamic as it encounters both internal and external challenges to its status as a truthful narrative. Indeed, the moment that it becomes calcified tradition, with little relation to what is going on in the world or with its followers, it loses it coherence and its ability to explain the world. What follows is that this tradition rapidly loses its appeal and, ultimately, its following.

A healthy tradition, then, is a tradition in which disagreement from within and without is not only expected, but recognized as beneficial. In the clashes and the conversations which comes from these encounters, a successful tradition enhances its narrative' ability to explain the world and, thus, its appeal as an explanation to others in and out of the tradition. This may mean reformulation amid challenges, but these reformulations are made, hopefully, in a way consistent to its original narrative and principles. The risk with reformulation, of course, is that the discord between the reformulation and the tradition's original narrative and principles becomes too much. This can happen and usually results in the emergence of a different tradition which, as it were, piggy-backs on former narrative, but re-interprets it in a fundamentally different way. The conflict caused by this re-interpretation begins as an internal problem, but can, under certain circumstances, become an external issue for a community and its tradition.

Now, the theory here is all well and good, but, before I close off this entry, I really have to do something about application. What I am arguing is that Christianity emerged out of a largely Jewish tradition because of the problem that Jesus and his followers presented to Jewish tradition, especially in regard to the presumed incarnation, resurrection and eschatological hope of a return of Jesus. As the new tradition formed, there was great diversity in interpretations of the basic narrative presented by Jesus and his followers. Among these interpretations was a narrative which, in its outline, posited Jesus as incarnate Son of God, the Messiah of Israel, who was killed by the Romans and Jewish religious authorities in Jerusalem c. 30s CE and was resurrected in three days. We have clear attestation of this tradition from the NT writings (which began to emerge in the late 1st century, but was in the process of becoming canonical over the next two or three centuries) to the writings of the Apostolic Fathers to the early Church Fathers like Tertullian, Cyprian, Origin, Cyril of Alexandria, who, pretty much, seemed to agree about these essential elements of what could be called the 'orthodox' tradition (or, at least, proto-orthodox, because it shows the signs of being the early predecessor of what we would later call orthodoxy). Yet, as a dynamic traditions, there continued to be disagreements within this tradition (the Quarto-Deciman controversy, disputes over the authoritative texts to be included in the canon or early Christological disputes), but this was healthy as part of a running conversation on the essential narrative presumed by an assortment of groups.

Clearly, this (proto-)orthodox position was not the only tradition bent on interpreting the narrative of Jesus and his followers. Clearly, there were Docetic, Gnostic, Jewish Christian interpretations of this story among others. Nor should we assume that, just because something we would identify as (proto-)orthodox existed that it was necessarily the strongest strand of Christianity or that it was destined to succeed (these are theological claims, not necessarily historical). Yet, a Bauerian contention that orthodox didn't emerge until the third century simply doesn't cut it either. There is enough evidence to accept that proto-orthodox groups not only existed, but even had contact with each other (see the apostolic travels of Paul and Peter or 1 Clement to the Corinthian church). Christianity was, as Bauer contends, diverse, including many different traditions and interpretations of Jesus' life and death. Why, it also included the (proto-)orthodox tradition, of all things.

I'd appreciate comments on this reasoning as it still is a bit experimental. Just as in a dynamic tradition, I need the input of both those who agree and those who dissent so that I can try to improve my interpretation.

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Friendship and the Friendship of God

I'm just back from a weekend retreat with the theological college my wife attends. I had attended a couple of these retreats before and while we were going out, so I jumped at the chance this year to go, partly because I really love this community and partly because it was a good chance to have a rest before the craziness of a new school year begins.

We had a couple good speakers this year; one of whom talked about Christian friendship. While I was listening, I began to think a bit about friendship in general which, I would suggest, has become rather impoverished over the last century or two, particularly male friendship. Close friendships were not at all unusual in societies in many cultures and in many times. In fact, it was believed that male friendship was one of the primary loyalties which people could have. Further, these friendships included a level of emotion which we, today, would either squirm in discomfort to hear or would assume that the two friends speaking were, in fact, gay. For instance, Cicero wrote hundreds of letters to Atticus in which he would express his longing to see his friend and his sense of loss in his friends' absence or giving his friend the news of the day in Rome or in Cicero's own family.

What confounds me (and worries me) is the degree to which this language and practice of friendship has become sexualized. That is, if we used the language of Cicero today with a friend, there is a very good chance it would be either mis-interpreted as a pass or would be regarded as evidence of a gay relationship. It seems that the only close male relationship that our culture can conceive is one that is sexualized. That is, perhaps, hyperbolic, but I wonder sometimes how much.

Yet, as the speaker at the retreat pointed out, it is these bonds of friendship which serve as one of the ways that communities function. It is in mutual friendship and all that entails which permits our faith communities to build the bonds that unite us. That cohesion is something wonderful to see and to experience, but it is not always present in our Christian communities. That is sad and worrying because it means that we really lost our way as a people, if we cannot even unite as individual communities.

This entry sounds pessimistic, I know. Yet, the scene is not all black. I know that my own life has been profoundly influenced both by close Christian friends (and some non-Christian ones, of course) and by healthy supportive communities (such as the college whose retreat I attended this weekend) where the bonds of friendship are strong. I have no doubt in the world that I would be a lot worse off in life without these influences. I think that is true of an awful lot of people, Christians and non-Christians. We haven't lost that God-given gift of friendship because it is simply too ingrained in our souls for us to lose it altogether. That is a grace for which we should praise God and which give me hope for the future.

At the end of the day, what binds all Christians together is that we have accepted the friendship of God and that we are all the means by which God reveals that friendship. A spiritual advisor once commented to me that, while I was fine with individual prayer, I really tended to struggle with allowing God to act through other people. I suspect one reason for that is that I'm introvert and I'd much rather huddle in a quiet corner to pray or meditate or read than to risk meeting or connecting with new people. My challenge, and, I think, the challenge of a lot of people, is to take the risks that friendship with God and with others entail. That risk usually produces real grace as I found on this weekend.

Peace,
Phil

Friday, September 01, 2006

Book Review-Darrell Bock, The Missing Gospels



I happened upon this book at Mitchell's Family Books last week, a Christian bookstore chain up here in Ontario and, on a bit of an impulse decision, decided to buy it. Well, given the subject matter, that wasn't a surprise. Even a quick glance at my blog over the last few months would reveal an interest in the 2nd century Fathers and the Gnostic problem which they faced and which we're facing again. What I've been hoping for and not seeing up to now has been a serious attempt to engage the popular use of the Gnostic Gospels. That doesn't mean it hasn't been done, I just haven't seen many books which have done it as well as this one.

What Dr. Bock does is really engage with both the alternative Gospels and the so-called new school which has used these newly found texts to drive a re-interpretation of Christianity in its first two centuries. In this interpretation (begun by Walter Bauer in the 1930s and continued by Elaine Pagels and Bart Ehrman), it is argued that Christianity in the first and second century AD was much more diverse than traditional, orthodox history has suggested. Indeed, what we know as orthodoxy is, in fact, really a third century phenomenon and the Christianity of the first and second centuries AD was a much more tolerant, human-centred religion than otherwise assumed. This view has become very influential these days and has fueled the explosion of books on alternative gospels.

I'm not going to go into the details of Dr. Bock's argument, but what he does is to take this approach seriously. He give background to the controversy, but, more importantly, he carefully goes through the alternative Gospels, the Bible, the Apostolic Fathers, and Justin Martyr (stopping very purposely before getting to St. Irenaeus, the great villain of the new school) to see just what they say about the nature of God and the Creation, the divinity and humanity of Jesus, human redemption and Jesus' death. His conclusions aren't surprising: the new school is distorting what the alternative gospels are saying and, yes, the new school is right about there being diversity in the early Church, but orthodoxy can be traced back to the period as a dominant force on the Christian scene.

Will this book change the mind of a devoted reader of Pagels or Ehrman? Probably not. The scholars' disputes over the dates of composition of the books of the canonical Bible and the alternative writings are simply too controversial to expect easy agreement on the priority of the orthodox view. Yet, Dr. Bock is very balanced in his approach, conceding what is good in the new school, but also criticizing its for its excesses. That was a pleasant surprise because I was afraid this would be just another ill-informed, knee-jerk polemic which we occasionally see coming out on popular Christian issues.

This book is worth a read for any orthodox Christian (Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, evangelical, whatever) because it really does give us a resource to deal with people who get excited with the next fresh Gospel to appear. As we found with the Gospel of Judas controversy at Easter, there are always some who want to take traditional Christianity down a peg or two, preferably during a major holiday season. This book will help educate you on the issues and prepare you for the next 'new gospel' coming to a bookstore near you.

Peace,
Phil

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean blog; Come, plunge the knife

Phil Harland on The Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean blog has posted an interesting entry on cultural bias against Jews and Christians in the Roman. It's an excellent post and well worth reading.

Meanwhile, I'm working by way through Bock's Missing Gospels and getting ready for the new school year. I am hoping to post a review of the Bock book in the next couple of days, so keep an eye out for that.

Peace,
Phil

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Augustine and Me

This week, I've been thinking about conversion. To some degree, it is the time of year because it was in the fall of 1991 that I began the process of becoming a Christian. As I noted below in Why Patristics?, my wife likes to tell people that I'm the only person she knows who converted because of reading Augustine. That isn't quite the whole story, of course. No conversion story is quite this simple. My own conversion was the product of a vague searching for faith from my late teens on, a real intellectual interest in Christiain thinking, the good example of several Christians in my life and, above all, God's own grace in making me receptive to what was going on around me. Yet, didn't Augustine himself report the story of the two imperial officials who turned to a life of asceticism after reading a Life of Antony (Augustine, Confessions, 8,6) Why shouldn't the example of a long dead bishop, theologian and saint play a part in the conversion a young Master student more than fifteen hundred years later?

Why not, indeed? Still, I wonder sometimes what it was which attracted me so much to Augustine. Goodness knows that he has had more than his own share of critics over the ages. Besides, it wasn't as if I was reading him in a seminary or something where people would take his faith seriously. No, I was reading him in a course which I jokingly called "Beginners Intensive Augustine (its real title was Topics in Medieval History or something with a similar degree of academic blandness) in a secular university. Not exactly a setting conducive to experiencing the faith of such a man.

Yet, I think what caught my attention was Augustine's honesty in describing how God led him to faith. Like me, he spent a good amount of time investigating ideas and notions about spirituality. In fact, he spent rather more time and trouble to do so than I had. Yet, what I felt I had in common with him was that I was spending a lot of my time trying to figure out how to come closer to God, but I really just needed to stop and let God catch me. It was that sense of God's grace in Augustine' life, even when he was not being faithful, which made sense of my own growing sense of conversion. Augustine was one of my guides in the faith during those exciting, but disorienting months of my Christian life.

In Hebrews, we are assured that we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses (Hebrews, 12,1). For me, Augustine was one of these witnesses, who set an example of faith and endurance during a difficult time. I don't pretend to be an Augustine expert. I really have only read the Confessions, The City of God, The Enchiridion, and On Christian Teaching. My theological understanding presumes a degree of Augustinianism, but, if I have to confess, that is also at second-hand. All that, however, isn't as important as the sense that Augustine was one of my guides in faith at a very impressionable time.

At the end of the course, the prof. asked us whether we thought that Augustine had any relevance today. My answer was that I did because I knew, from my own experience in the last months, he has made a major difference to my life. Of course, I got the predictable sceptical looks from the prof and my colleagues, but I think I touched one something which was true. Augustine (and the rest of the Fathers) remain important because they are among that cloud of witnesses which surround all of us. Their example and their thinking should remind us of God's grace in the lives of these all too fallable human beings. Setting aside their intellectual value (which is considerable), it is their spiritual value as witnesses which should catch the attention of all Christians.

Peace,
Phil

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Why Bother with Theology?

This week, I've been involved in a discussion which began about a trivia question about a 1960s controversy about Bishop Pike of ECUSA and has headed into a discussion about heresy and whether belief really matters in the Christian life. Of course, this is hardly a new conversation. I've been posting on various Anglican boards for something like nine or ten years now and I think I fight this debate, at least, once or twice a year.

As usual, this debate got me thinking about the state of theological understanding in my church today. I admit that, in the first couple of years of my conversion, I was among those who maintained an amused skepticism around the idea of theology. As Humphreys said on Yes, Prime Minister(a British comedy which featured a bumbling politician being manipulated by his civil service advisors) when he identifies a candidate for the Archbishop of York as a theologian: "Theology is a way for unbelievers for staying in the Church".

To some extent, this cynicism is warranted. Academic theology has had a tendency to be very removed from Christian practice for many years. I know that friends who regularly go to the American Academy of Religion report a rarified atmosphere and, occasionally, bizarre disjunction with reality at this scholarly event. For the person in the pew, struggling to practice his/her Christianity, these discussions seem pointless.

Add to that the way that traditional doctrine has been taught in the past. Quite frequently, doctrine was something to be memorized, not understood. That is odd, given the admittedly bizarre things that we Christians are asked to believe: incarnation, resurrection, Virgin Birth and more. Is there any wonder why both doctrine and theology are held in so little esteem in the church?

Yet, I've changed my mind over the last eight or nine years. What ultimately changed my mind was the recognition that there is a reason why these doctrines have emerged the way they did and there are reasons why theology matters. At the end of the day, theology is an attempt to explain what we believe and to make what we do as Christians make sense. That means that, no matter how abstract a theological proposition is, it has be somehow related back to practice or to our understanding of what the Christian life is. Any theological proposition that can't do this is a proposition that can and should be forgotten about.

Theology's reason for existing is explanation and, in that sense, it is running commentary on Scripture and on the communal experience of the Church in Christ. Its value is to draw us closer into the story which defines us and in allowing us to understand how we should relate to a world which does not fully accept this story. Theology can explain faith to those who don't understand it. It can connect us to our faith story and reinforce us, even when times are bad. It can point to what is the right action by helping us to see what our faith demands in a given situation. At the end of the day, theology is God-talk, of all kinds. It isn't just rarified speculations on the origin of the world or on the number of angels on a pin. It is more important than all that. It is the grammar for our God-talk and, if we are to make any sense, we need to know what that grammar is.

Once I started to understand theology as a grammar, I began to get why it was important. I also began to want to see how good theologians use that grammar. What I found surprised me a bit. I found myself turning to those who understood the doctrines that I found hard to swallow and who explained how those doctrines fit into the grammar. I began to understand why taking out this or that doctrine causes ripples in how we think about faith, about God and about how we practice our Christian life. That caused me to want to read more theology and to think more theologically. I am a self-confessed theological auto-didact with all the defects...and all the benefits of that approach. Yet, I don't think I'd be writing quite this kind of blog without it, but, more importantly, I know my prayer and my practice have been informed by my readings in theology.

Theology will not, of course, save you or me. Nor, I would point out, will our Christian practices. Our salvation depends on the grace of God alone, not on our intellectual or physical efforts. Yet, both theology and practice matter. What I'm arguing here is that the solution to the debate I quote above isn't theological doctrine or practice. It is theology AND practice. If we are called, as we Anglicans love to say, to worshipping the Lord God with all our minds, all our hearts and all our souls, we need to pay attention to what theology says, what doctrine says, if we are to reflect on our mission today.

Peace,
Phil

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Isaiah 2,22 and Protagoras

Stop trusting in man, who has but a breath in his nostrils. Of what account is he? Isaiah 2,22

I ran across this line earlier this week while I was doing some devotional reading. For some reason, that morning I was really struck by it, not so much because of its sentiment which we find elsewhere in Scripture quite frequently, but I suspect because of what was the next thing which popped in my head: the well-known fragment of Protagoras:

Man is the measure of all things

Okay, that is an odd association, I grant you. Yet, it makes some sense to juxtrapose these two lines. After all, encapsulated in these two quotations, we find outselves right up against the difference between the anthropology of the Bible and that of not only classical antiquity, but modern humanism. Both quotations make bold statements about the place of humans in the universe. Both change our outlook on life and the world in profound ways.

In the Protagoras fragment, humanity becomes the standard by which the rest of the universe is evaluated and judged. We are the single most important beings in the world because we alone boast the ability for abstract thought and for judgements. We have the wisdom and the ability to make the world in our image. There is no need for the divine or for God or for gods because they are either hopeless distant and uninterested in human affairs, or they are simply non-existent. We are self-sufficient or, at least, we can be. We are enlightened. We alone can determine what is good and apply it to the world.

All this should sound familiar. Really, Protagoras' thinking is not so different from our own. We often, in practice, push God out of our consideration, thinking that we know better or that God is irrelevant when we deal with the problems we have. After all, if He was so great, why do we have to fix up his mess of a Creation? So, we'll find our own solutions, thank you very much.

Yet, when we read passages like Isaiah 2,22, we come crashing back to reality. At the end of a passage in which God paints a picture of a deluded humanity coming face to face with the folly of their exalted view of themselves and their refusal to trust in Him, the Creator of the world. Everything that makes us proud (possessions, power) will become worthless to us. All the idols we raise up for ourselves to try to hide God will be utterly useless. All the things that we think will save us will fail. We will realize that God really is in charge and at the centre of it all. So, we will realize that we are only mortal and God is the only constant, not us.

That is a humbling realization and I think it is that dose of perspective is what caught my attention the other day. I know I cannot think that I'm more important than anything else in this world for the very good reason that I'm not. The only perspective which works is that we can't count on people or things or Nature or Fate or whatever we find to substitute for God, but we always have to come back to the triune God. Everything else passes away. God remains.

Peace,
Phil

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Nicaea and the Anglican Communion

Things weren't looking good for Nicene Christians in the 360s and 370s. Everything had come together so well only forty years before. The Emperor Constantine had legalized Christianity, encouraged its growth and had even convened the Council of Nicaea to settle the outstanding disputes in the Church, especially Arianism. Out of that council came the Nicene Creed which was supposed to settle the vexed question of Jesus' nature once and for all.

It didn't turn out that way. First, Constantine began to backpedal to keep Eastern bishops, who thought the Creed unscriptural and theologically unsound, happy. Then, his son, Constantius II began to try to impose a new creed on the Church and began to exile Nicene leaders. Worse still, the Nicene movement was splintering; the West, dominated by Nicene Christians, quarrelling with Eastern Nicene leaders over who the proper Nicene leader in Antioch was, Meletius or Paulinus. Amid all this, relentless imperial pressure from the Eastern Emperor, Valens, especially, was grinding the Nicene supporters.

From this unpromising situation, three friends ( St. Basil, St. Gregory of Nazianzus, St. Gregory of Nyssa) from the remote province of Cappadocia emerged to give the Nicene movement a new boost. These Neo-Nicenes supported the Nicene view that Jesus Christ was consubstantial with God the Father, but equally firmly supported the view that the three persons of the Trinity were also separate persons which was at the centre of their moderate opponents' concerns about the Nicene Creed. Ultimately, they managed to win enough support that, at the Council of Constantinople, their Neo-Nicene view carried the day and the Nicene Creed was reiterated as the official creed of the Church.

So, I'm sure you're asking that this history lesson is all very interesting, but what is my point? What I find interesting about these events is how the Nicene orthodoxy emerged. A lot of people merely assume that the Nicene Creed was accepted without difficulty or challenge right at the Council of Nicaea. Not so. It took almost sixty years of ecclesiastical conflict to establish that creed as authoritative. Indeed, for much of this time, it looked like the supporters of Nicene orthodoxy might well lose. Indeed, it wasn't until moderates (the Cappadocian fathers) emerged who would firmly defend the authority of the Nicene creed, but would interpret it in a way that was widely acceptable to even their moderate opponents, that the Nicene orthodoxy became well-established. The brilliance of the Cappadocian solution was that it navigated between the extremes of Arianism and modalism to emerge at the head of a new coalition which would affirm what would become the orthodox Christology. Orthodoxy, as the Cappodocian Fathers well knew, is rarely found in the extremes, but rather navigates between the extremes of theological thought.

It is this recognition which set me to thinking about the current controversies in the Anglican Communion. In the past few years, the theological realm of the Anglican Communion has become very polarized. You can tell that both in the interactions of Church leaders and in Anglican blogosphere where extreme liberals and extreme conservatives only agree on one thing: they are sick and tired of each other and they see no other option but to separate. Conservatives are splintering on the issue of when or if to leave. Ecclesially, it seems like the 360s and 370s all over again.

Still, just as in the 360s and 370s, there are signs of hope. For one, there is the Windsor Report which, for all of its flaws, has attempted to give an even-handed attempt to map out the conditions needed to work out the current chaos. There is the Covenant ideas of the Archbishop of Canterbury who, even if the devil in the details, is trying to find a way to ease the tensions. Furthermore, there are the voices of Windsor conservatives, Bishop Tom Wright, the Anglican Communion Institute, who, while retaining a vigorous defence of the traditional views on homosexuality, are refusing to leave without making their case and listening to liberals do the same. All of these give me hope that we can find our way through this crisis with a renewed sense of our mission and our faith.

Of course, there are profound differences between the struggles today over homosexuality today and Christology then. For one thing, the latter struggle was more fundamental. For another, a change of emperors opened the opportunity to consolidate the Nicene position at the Council of Constantinople in 381 AD. Yet, that earlier crisis has taught us that extremes don't work in theology and that a real solution must navigate between not one heresy, but two. May God be with us as we navigate between the Scylla of permissiveness and the Charybdis of judgementalism.

Peace,
Phil