Sin and Culture

13 11 2009

In a recent class discussion, the question came up of whether sin was culturally defined or not. I’ve created this poll to get your responses. Feel free to add your own answer in the poll and to comment on this post.

 

Is sin culturally defined?
(polls)





Sacred Memory

10 11 2009

The following are the remarks from my leadership in chapel at Gardner-Webb University on Monday, 9 November 2009. Our chapel was “Worship Through Psalms of Lament and Thanksgiving.

 

Remembering is tough for me; not remembering facts and history and theories, but remembering people and moments. Maybe I actually mean not that remembering is tough, but that memory is tough. It has been understood in my family for a long time that I don’t typically remember events and moments. I remember the stories that are told about them, but that is only because they are told often. I’m not sure why I have to be reminded of things like what Trinity and I did on our first date and it’s not just because I’m a guy. It may have something to do with memories that I’d rather not have, but can’t seem to get rid of or it may just be that I’m lazy. I’m not particularly proud of that fact that I don’t easily remember people’s names or what I got for my birthday last year, but I have been working on it because I learned one of the lessons that I think this psalm teaches.

Memory is sacred.

I learned this lesson from Dr. Goodman when studying the Holocaust.

Memory is sacred.

Now memory is not just comprised of the good events that one wants to remember, but of the bad as well. If the Psalmist chose only to remember the good, then it would mean nothing to remember the deeds of the Lord. Remembering God’s deliverance isn’t very meaningful if you don’t remember from what you were delivered.

I’ve worked hard to remember better since Dr. Goodman taught me this lesson and even harder since his death. For, it was not only meaningful to Dr. Goodman when I remembered that he thought that R.E.M. was the greatest rock band of all times, but it continues to be meaningful for me. Whenever I listen to an R.E.M. song now I think of Dr. Goodman and think of how God used him in my life and in the lives of so many others.

But does it really fall into the category of “sacred memory” to remember some one’s favorite rock band, you may ask. I think it certainly does, but it doesn’t stop there. Sacred memory is individual and it is corporate. We not only remember things about ourselves and other individuals that we know, but we remember things about our community, both our physical community and our spiritual community. We remember the fear that Mary are Martha had when they discovered an empty tomb and we remember the trail that Martin Luther blazed for us, but we also remember the horror of the Crusades and the inaction of Christians during the Holocaust. We all know the adage that “history repeats itself,” but that doesn’t have to be so. When we are actively engaged in remembering we, as individuals and as a community, can make sure that the good remains and we can work to keep the bad at bay. As soon as we forget the freedom of religion that others so vigorously fought for us to have, we will become complacent about others’ freedom of religion and will begin to think that they ought not be able to practice their religion or lack of religion. If we forget that true faith is helping orphans and widows, then we will become arrogant about our faith and think that it was somehow meant to benefit us.

You see, memory is a funny thing because it is only one side of a coin. The other side of the coin is hope.

Because we remember, we can hope.

Because the Psalmist remembered the deeds of the Lord, the Psalmist hoped for a better future. Hope has long been meaningful for me, but never as meaningful as it was when I realized its relationship with memory. Because I remember the good works of God, I hope that God will continue those good works in the future. Because I remember war, I hope along with Micah for lasting peace.

Let it not be said of us as it has been said of others:

There is no memory of those who have gone before, moreover, there will not be any memory of those who come after by those that come after them (Eccl. 1:11)

Let us remember those who have gone before and let us live our lives in such a way that those who come after remember us.

This day let us affirm that like the psalmist, we remember. Let us realize that memory is sacred; my memory, your memory, our memory.

The psalms that we read responsively express lament and thanksgiving, two ubiquitous aspects of life. In a well-known passage, the author of Ecclesiastes says:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep; and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.

There is one couplet that may have been nice to see included: “there is a time to remember, and a time to forget.” But that wouldn’t actually be accurate, because all time is the time to remember. Every matter under heaven is to be remembered. How else do we know to trust God but that we remember when others have trusted God? Why do we cry out to God in times of trouble, except we remember the works of God?

Our darkest nights, we remember. Our brightest mornings, we remember.

It is true that some memories we cannot forget, but today we also choose to remember.

To remember is a sacred and holy act. This we must never forget.

When we remember, it means that we remember the past, the good and the bad, but above all, when we remember, it means that we hope.

We hope for the future.

We hope for a future that is better than our past and better than our present and we work intentionally to bring that future about.





A Battle You Can Win

14 10 2009


Boys Boxing

Photo by George Eastman House

The GRE is at the heart of the preparation process for most who wish to do graduate study. For those of you who don’t know, I typically describe the GRE as the SAT for graduate schools. It’s a test that supposedly measures one’s ability to perform at the graduate level. All I can tell that it actually does is measure one’s facility with 7th – 9th grade mathematics and 2nd, 3rd, or 4th level definitions of many obscure and/or arcane words. Tomorrow at half past noon, this test and I will battle.

I have taken the GRE before and faired well, but since I am currently applying to PhD programs to hopefully start in the fall of 2010, I am retaking it to attempt to inch my score up, because, hey, every little bit counts, right? I have been preparing for this test for a while now, using flashcards, reading GRE books, blog posts and taking practice tests.

Alas, the day is finally upon me and I have, I think, a much better disposition toward the test than I have at other times during this process. I have been bitter because of how poor of a measurement of my ability to perform in a PhD program I think the GRE is. At other times, I have been quite downtrodden, feeling that I am going to be wasting my time and money, namely after a few of my practice tests.

For the past few days, however, I have had a different perspective. Ken Brown posted about his GRE Preparation and Approach a few days ago and he ended his post with the line:

it’s a battle you can win.

Hence, the title of my post. So, that’s my attitude toward the GRE now. I’m going to battle tomorrow and I fully believe it’s a battle I can win. The GRE is not the war (the whole application process is the war), it is merely one battle along the way; a battle that I intend to win.





10 Random Beliefs

2 10 2009

It seems as if I am on my way to becoming a bona fide biblioblogger, since I got tagged in a 10 random beliefs meme by Jeremy Thompson. If, on the other side of this list, you’re left thinking that my random beliefs equal non-witty, boring beliefs, I’m pretty sure the problem is with you, not me. C’est la vie.

  1. I believe that like fine wine I get better with age.
  2. I believe that many (though not all) non-canonical texts (i.e. not in the Bible) contain as much truth about the character and nature of God and reality as the Bible does. To say otherwise, to me, is to put God in, as the genie in Aladdin says, “Itty bitty living space”.
  3. I believe that one day I’ll be able to speak openly and freely about my beliefs without fear of repercussions.
  4. I believe that though people most of the time do not meet our expectations, this does not mean that we should lower them.
  5. I believe that our differences in hobbies, language, beliefs, etc. are a beautiful thing and we should do everything we can to celebrate and preserve them.
  6. I believe that close-mindedness is one of the worst sins, for it posits that one basically knows all truth there is to be known. This is not only naive, it is also ignorant and harmful.
  7. I believe that W. K. Clifford was right when he said that our beliefs have ethical implications and on most days I affirm his statement that “it is wrong always, everywhere, and for anyone, to believe anything upon insufficient evidence” (“The Ethics of Belief”).
  8. I believe that theology is mostly anthropology and that our theology must be in response to reality or it isn’t worth having.
  9. I believe that if I don’t get into a PhD program then I’ll join the Coast Guard. I could be good at that, right? I used to be a lifeguard.
  10. I believe that the Greek language is far superior to Hebrew, no matter what Jeremy Thompson says (see #3). Come on, two tenses? How about seven. That’s more like it.
  11. I believe that sarcasm is a love language.

I recognize that my writing and my life is oftentimes seriously lacking in humor. For that, I make no apology. Also, I do know how to count and I am very aware that the above list goes to 11, when the meme calls for 10 random beliefs. I have 11 things to say, so I said them. Plus, what fun is following the rules?

Now, to tagging others: Chris Brady and Sam Harrelson, because they’re two people who are likely light years better at this sort of thing than I.





Theology 2.0 – Part 4

31 08 2009

I am continuing on with this theology series even though I’m not getting much conversation, which was my goal. I suppose that many of you may really just enjoy reading my words, though I doubt that is the case. I really do want to hear your thoughts in response to my posts. Do not fear if you do not know all of the terminology used or haven’t thought about certain topics. Theology is not just done by theologians in classrooms and dark, dusty offices full of books, but by real people living real lives.

On to the recent topics in class, then.

There are two topics that I want to discuss in this post and they go hand-in-hand: truth and knowing truth.

We all think we know what truth is, don’t we. Why, what I believe is true?  Is it not? Well, I certainly think it is or I would not believe it. However, so does the person sitting next to me in the coffee shop whose life and belief system differs greatly from mine. What, then, is truth and how do we determine what is true?

The definition that my professor gave in class for truth is as follows:

a. Truth is a property of propositions that corresponds to the way things are

b. Objective truth is what is true independent of preference or desire

This definition seems simple enough. It basically says that there is such a thing as objective or absolute truth that is true no matter what. (This reminds me of a quote I used to love to quote by Philip Dick: “Reality is that which when you stop believing in it doesn’t go away.”) But what if I believe in something –  God, for instance – but you don’t? To me that God exists may be as absolute as things get. I may say that if God doesn’t exist, then life isn’t worth living and everything I think I knew was a lie. You, on the other hand, fully assert that God does not exist. That truth for you may be the most absolute truth. You may respond  that if God does exist, then that God must be a horrible being to allow so much hurt in the world. Who is right? Who is wrong? How can we know?

Most of us would quickly jump to the support of one of the two views, but how do know we know which one to support? Typically we would support the view that most closely lines up with our own, therein asserting, whether we want to or not, that we can distinguish between what is true and what is untrue by comparing it with our own beliefs. If it lines up fairly closely, then it is true. If it is in direct opposition, then it is clearly not true.

How do you determine what is true? Is there such a thing as objective or absolute truth? If there is such a thing as objective or absolute truth, what tests do you put statements/ideas/etc. through to determine whether they are really true? If you’ve ever held on to a certain “truth” even when it has failed tests of truth (deductive and inductive logic, coherence, etc.), why did you continue to hold it as true?





Nothing New Under the Sun

26 08 2009

Mark Goodacre has a post up today called The Scholar’s Scalpel in which he shares this quote by Michael Goulder:

With a fine enough scalpel, everything is unique.

This is a fantastic quote and it comes on the same day as Jim West posts his The Problem With Young Scholars: An Observation, in which he says

The problem with young scholars is that they believe they’ve seen things no one else has ever noticed and observed things no one else has ever observed. Thereby betraying their unfamiliarity with both the work of their forebears and the Solomonic truth that there is nothing new under the sun.

Their forgetfulness/hubris leads them to a tragic sense of self-importance and a paralysis of humility.

Both quotes are, in my opinion, spot on. However, as a masters student who is sending in applications to PhD programs this fall I sense a mixed message from the academic community. I have struggled for the past two years to come up with an original topic/idea for my thesis in vain. I have recently settled on one that I am very happy with and it is an area that I have not seen much work done on before, but I still know it is not original. Yet, the message seems to be that when applying to PhD programs one must show their previous work and what it adds to the field (i.e. originality) and how they intend to further their work by yet again adding to the field (i.e. continuing on this path of originality). Now I do understand that many additions to the field are not necessarily original, rather they are re-emergences of texts/facts/etc. or are different methodologies (i.e. applying literary criticism to the study of the gospels). Nevertheless, the expectation still seems to remain for successful PhD candidates and other young scholars to find something original, whether that expectation is stated or not.

What is a young scholar to do then? I do not fully know the answer, but I do know that my planned path is to continue to learn as much from others as possible (i.e. reading scholarly works in my field and reading biblioblogs by the likes of Mark Goodacre and Jim West) while continuing to present my absolute best work in my thesis and make sure that the work I present does not merely “prove” my preconceived notions, but rather takes as much into account as possible so that learning will actually be a result of my work, both that I would learn and others would as well, and that in the end the field may be advanced ever so slightly.





Resources Page Updated

25 08 2009

I have updated my resources page. You can visit it by either clicking here or on the Resources tab at the top of the page. If there are any resources that you think should be added to the list, put them in the comments of this post or e-mail me. They do not necessarily have to fall into the categories listed above, but they need to be reputable and something that I find interesting and helpful.





Theology 2.0 – Part 3

25 08 2009

Today we looked at our professors prolegomena. Stated simply, a prolegomena is just the presuppositions of a theologian. They are typically set out at the beginning so that the reader knows ahead of time from which perspective to expect the following theology will come. His prolegomena is as follows:

A. Triune God

B. As revealed in Scripture

C. As conveyed in a heritage

D. As made real in experience

1. Corporate

2. Individual

Now this does not represent what would be my prolegomena were I setting one forth, but that isn’t really the point. The question I have is about the nature of a prolegomena, the act of laying out one’s presuppositions. Do you think it is necessary for anyone speaking about religious topics to first lay out their presuppositions? Why or why not?

And then if you would like to share what your prolegomena would look like. I am very interested in seeing where my readers are. Your prolegomena does not have to follow the above format and can include whatever you would like it to. What are your basic assumptions when you begin thinking about or talking about religious topics, especially theology?

Sound off in the comments.

NOTE: If you have not already you can read Part 1 and Part 2 in this series.





15 Books

25 08 2009

I was tagged in a note by Jennifer Pluck on Facebook. The rules are that you have to list 15 books that you’ve read and that will always stick with you. I do not usually participate in these “memes” but decided to participate in this one because it is about books, one of the great loves of my life. So, instead of writing a Facebook note I decided to post my list here, with short commentary about each book. The books are not listed in any particular order, so do not read preference into the order in which they are presented.

The Elsewhere Community by Hugh Kenner

  • This book helped refine my love of poetry and the poets themselves. It also taught me the importance of finding my own “elsewhere community.” I read this book for the first time back in 2005, I believe. After I finished reading it I was struck with the desire to write Hugh Kenner and let him know of the impact of his book on me only to find out that he had been dead some 2 years.

The Tipping Point by Malcom Gladwell

  • I read this book for one of my undergraduate classes, though I do not remember which one. I was, and continue to be, intrigued at how certain things “take off”,so to speak, and other things don’t. Gladwell speaks to just this issue and he does it very well. This book taught me that even reading about yawning makes you yawn. Crazy.

Night by Elie Wiesel

  • This book has immense meaning for me. I have read it numerous times. Every time I read it I continue to be amazed at how poignantly Wiesel is able to describe a situation with so few words. This book was the impetus for my studies of the Holocaust and especially post-Holocaust theology. This book ensured that my theology would never be the same again. This book also sparked the influence that Jewish theology (once again, especially post-Holocaust theology) would have on my own personal faith and theology.

A Kierkegaard Anthology by Søren Kierkegaard and Robert Bretall

  • This book made me, for a while at least, existentialist. I have since realized that I actually do not agree with Kierkegaard on as many fronts as I once thought, but he has nevertheless been extremely influential in my own philosophy (and theology). Moreover, I am in awe of how well he did so many things: philosopher, theologian, author, novelist, etc.

Encountering Evil:Live Options in Theodicy edited by Stephen Davis

  • This book helped me understand more clearly that I am not settled in my theodicy. I still struggle with it on a regular basis and many of the answers that work for others are not sufficient for me. The following three statements cannot simultaneously be true: God is all-loving, God is all-powerful, evil exists. This book presents various ways to solve that problem, though all have problems of their own. Also, because of this book, I waver between having a process theodicy and a theodicy of protest.

The Jesus Dynasty by James Tabor

  • I did my undergraduate work under the tutelage of Dr. Tabor so i recognize that I may be a bit biased on this one. This book is a great look into the family of Jesus and the implications of what we do and don’t know about him and his family. Moreover, though Dr. Tabor is not the leading Jesus scholar that he may want to be or others may want him to be, he has my respect for the archaeology background that he brings to his work. Dr. Tabor more effectively incorporates archaeology into his picture of the New Testament world than any other Jesus/NT scholar that I know of.

The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger

  • Because this book speaks to more than just the coming of age of an adolescent boy.

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

  • A page-turner for sure. It certainly has many “facts” wrong, but it is written in a very provocative manner.

The Last Templar by Raymond Khoury

  • It’s a mystery novel about templar legends and archaeology. Basically this type of novel is my version of a dirty romance novel. I can’t get enough of them.

A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf

  • It’s just fantastic. It’s a “feminist” essay that says a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write. It is also taught me that reading stream of consciousness can actually be enjoyable.

After Auschwitz by Richard Rubenstein

  • I learned Jewish death-of-God theology from Rubenstein. I also learned that it is much more compelling than Christian death-of-God theology. The Holocaust changed the world. The Holocaust changed how I see God. Nothing can be the same after Auschwitz.

The Giver by Lois Lowry

  • This was required reading for me at some point in my schooling. I loved it though. I felt Jonas’ struggles as he learned more and more of the truth. Today it reminds me of a lyric by Tracy Chapman: “If you knew that you would find a truth that brings up pain that can’t be soothed, would you change?”

The Bhagavad Gita

  • This Hindu text that has influenced Henry David Thoreau, Gandhi, and T. S. Eliot has also influenced me. The way it talks about ones duty is certainly quite different than we understand today, but it is intriguing nonetheless. Moreover, the first time I read this work I was struck by similarities with our own New Testament, such as a collection of “I Am” statements.

The Religion of Ancient Israel by Patrick Miller

  • This is certainly an academic book, but it is well written and quite an easy read. Beyond that it taught me that the type of historian that I am (or hope to be anyway) is a social historian. The sociohistorical approach that Miller takes to the religion of Ancient Israel is the same approach I find myself taking, though I didn’t know that it was a sociohistorical approach until I read this book.

The Diary of Anne Frank by Anne Frank

  • That such a young girl could write such memorable words still fascinates me. The perspective we get of the Holocaust from this work is completely different from any other. One need only read one sentence of this diary to be forever touched: “That’s the difficulty in these times: ideals,dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to meet the horrible truth and be shattered. It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart.”




Theology 2.0 – Part 2

24 08 2009

We have covered a decent amount of ground in my theology class since the first post in this series, but I have not been covering it here because much of it will be revisited later in the semester in more depth and more detail, so I am waiting to address it until later as well. I do not want to leave you, my faithful readers, without any fodder, though, so I am back at it.

Most of our shortened class today was spent on Modernism/Enlightenment and Liberalism. Modernism is the movement, or whatever you want to call it, to which we are all indebted to a great extent. Modernism gave us our scientific method and gave us great phrases such as Rene Descartes’ cogito ergo sum (I think, therefore I am). Moreover, modernism gave us our current emphasis on the individual.  Whether the influence of Modernism is positive or negative I will leave for you to determine. The arguments on both sides are lengthy and compelling.

Liberalism is something not altogether different from Modernism. A word of clarification, though, before you read further. By “liberalism” it is meant the movement that is sometimes called “classical liberalism.” I am not speaking of that which is on the “left” in doctrine or politics. Liberalism continued with the emphasis of the individual, to a certain extent. Friedrich Schleiermacher is one of the most prominent figures associated with classic liberalism and his work dealt a lot with human experience. He concluded that at the base of all human emotion was dependence. He got to this point by the assumption that one could learn more about God by studying humans. This idea is certainly deplorable to many, but others see great merit in it. Alexander Pope said: “No then thyself, presume not God to scan, the proper study of mankind is man.” The negative view of this quote is that Pope wanted only to focus on humans and to have one’s self as the focus. The positive view says that Pope understood the futility of believing we can make absolute statements about God. (A memorable phrase to think of here is “all theology is anthropology.” While this topic is a bit outside the scope of this post, I will dedicate a post to it if there is any interest in that topic.)

So, what is the point of this post, you may be asking? It is two-fold. The first is to introduce (for those for whom they are new concepts/ideas) Modernism and Liberalism. The second purpose of this post is to facilitate reflective thinking about our own theology and our journey of theology.

My professor closed class with an analogy of a ticket and a train. You are to suppose that you buy a ticket (a theological position) and board the train and ride it as far as it will take you. The goal, then, is to not arrive and think, “How in the world did I end up here?” In other words, examine the implications of your beliefs/theological claims/etc. Now is where you come in. What theological tickets have you bought and at some later point asked, “How in the world did I end up here?” or were otherwise unhappy or surprised by the implications of a belief or position that you held?