Politics, Theology, and the Environment

In recent days, politics and theology have become intertwined, with presidential candidates debating the theological veracity of their opponents.  The most telling example was Rick Santorum’s charge that President Obama has embraced a “phony theology” that isn’t in line with what the Bible teaches.  Elsewhere I addressed this charge, noting that to say that something is phony is to raise questions of a person’s religious integrity. 

When the “charge” was first made, the former Senator didn’t elaborate, but a few days later he backed off a bit and spoke of the President’s supposedly radical environmentalist world view that he believes is rooted in a theology (world view) that lacks biblical support.  In this clarifying statement about what he meant by a “phony theology” that lacks biblical warrant, Santorum made the following statement: 

“That’s why I was talking about energy. This idea that man is here to serve the earth, as opposed to husband its resources and being good stewards of the earth, and I think that is a phony ideal.” 

Many people believe that religion is private and should remain private.  I believe that religion is personal, but that it also has public implications.  What we believe about God impacts the way we see the world.  In this, I’m in agreement with Sen. Santorum, though I strongly disagree with the way he understands both the bible and Christian theology.  I will also admit that my politics is closer to that of the President than that of the former Senator’s.  But for a moment I’d like to have us put aside partisan politics and consider the theology of creation (I use creation here in a theological sense, not a scientific one). 

I believe that a good case can be made that concern for the environment is deeply rooted in Scripture and Christian Theology, and that it is a moral imperative for us to concern ourselves with protecting and preserving the environment.    

If the earth exists for the benefit of humanity, does that mean that it exists solely for our benefit?  Does it mean that we have the right and obligation to “husband its resources” without concerning ourselves with the long term viability of nature?

At the core of this debate is the definition of stewardship.  Does being a good steward mean taking good care of something entrusted to us, or does it imply use of something for our immediate benefit?   In answering these questions I would like to suggest that Sen. Santorum’s views, which he claims are biblical, could be out of line not only with Scripture, but also the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, of which he is a member. 

Before I turn to Catholic teaching on this issue, I’d like to suggest an alternative reading of the biblical story concerning creation and our responsibility to it.  In Genesis 1 we find the first creation story.  Throughout this beautiful poetic statement, we hear God say of nature – “It is good.”  As God concludes the work of creation God creates humankind in God’s image, male and female, and entrusts to them (us) the responsibility of being stewards of creation.  Stewardship doesn’t entail absolute rule.  There is always accountability to God, who created humankind to represent God in creation.  We are not above creation, we are part of it, and as part of creation, we have an important role, to respect, preserve, and use appropriately the resources present in the world around us.    

To add to this point about our place in creation, consider the message found in the designated reading from the Hebrew Bible for the First Sunday of Lent (this Sunday).  The text is Genesis 9:8-17.  It’s part of the Flood story, and as Noah, his family, and the animals disembark from the ark, God makes a covenant, not just with Noah, his family, and his descendants, but also “with every living being with you—with the birds, with the large animals, and with all the animals of the earth, leaving the ark with you. I will set up my covenant with you so that never again will all life be cut off by floodwaters. There will never again be a flood to destroy the earth” (Gen. 9:9-11 Common English Bible).  God places in the heavens a bow, a rainbow, to serve as a reminder to God of this covenant, which God makes with “all creatures on earth.”  Humanity is, in this scenario, part of, but not the sole concern of God’s covenant with the earth. 

I take these texts as an encouragement to be good stewards of the environment.   Thus, I believe a truly biblical theology will recognize that our welfare as human beings is linked to that of the rest of creation.  My well-being is affected by the despoiling of the environment, whether that is pollution or overuse of natural resources.  Although the Senator suggests that global warming is not science but politics, I beg to differ.  If climate science is correct, we could be setting ourselves on an environmentally unsustainable course that could be as destructive to the future well-being of humanity as any other economic consideration.

I’ve mentioned but two biblical passages that, in my view, call for us to attend to the protection of the environment.  I would suggest that this is part of our covenant responsibility.  Yes, we do have a special role as God’s representatives in the world, but that responsibility is an ecologically sustainable one.  We can make use of earth’s resources, but we should do this in a wise and sustainable manner.  

I said earlier that a biblical case can be made for what is often called “creation care,” but it is also a central focus of Roman Catholic Social Teaching.  Although I don’t agree with the Catholic Church on every issue, there are many places where I am in agreement with the teachings of this church.   I would say that on the issue of the environment, I’m probably closer to the Church’s teachings than is Sen. Santorum.  In support of my claim I want to point out a statement from the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops and Pope John Paul II. 

First consider this statement from the USCCB on Caring for God’s Creation:

54. We show our respect for the Creator by our stewardship of God’s creation. Care for the earth is a duty of our faith and a sign of our concern for all people. We should strive to live simply to meet the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs. We have a moral obligation to protect the planet on which we live—to respect God’s creation and to ensure a safe and hospitable environment for human beings, especially children at their most vulnerable stages of development. As stewards called by God to share the responsibility for the future of the earth, we should work for a world in which people respect and protect all of creation and seek to live simply in harmony with it for the sake of future generations.

Pope John Paul II is even clearer and stronger in his statements about our responsibilities toward the environment.  These are stated powerfully in a 1990 address celebrating the World Day of Peace.  I’d like to share just the two opening paragraphs of this statement, and invite you to read the entire message in support of this statement.   The late Catholic leader declared:

In our day, there is a growing awareness that world peace is threatened not only by the arms race, regional conflicts and continued injustices among peoples and nations, but also by a lack of due respect for nature, by the plundering of natural resources and by a progressive decline in the quality of life. The sense of precariousness and insecurity that such a situation engenders is a seedbed for collective selfishness, disregard for others and dishonesty.

Faced with the widespread destruction of the environment, people everywhere are coming to understand that we cannot continue to use the goods of the earth as we have in the past. The public in general as well as political leaders are concerned about this problem, and experts from a wide range of disciplines are studying its causes. Moreover, a new ecological awareness is beginning to emerge which, rather than being downplayed, ought to be encouraged to develop into concrete programmes and initiatives.

Pope John Paul II makes the claim that our relationship to the environment is a moral issue.  He states that the future sustainability of this world depends on our ability to address this issue, including the question of climate change.  He also notes that how the developed world uses resources has implications for developing nations and for those persons living in poverty.  Thus, it is a matter of addressing the needs of “the least of these” (Matthew 25).

I recognize there are differences of opinion on matters theological and political when it comes to the environment.  But, a commitment to protecting the earth and its resources – a concern for the welfare of creation as a whole -- is not foreign to the biblical story or to mainstream Christian theology.  In fact, as I read scripture and theology, I would suggest that it is a divine imperative that we concern ourselves with protecting the environment as an expression of our calling to be God’s stewards of creation.  It is also, in our best interests to concern ourselves with this calling.   

Reposted from the Troy Patch

The Predicament of Belief -- A Review

THE PREDICAMENT OF BELIEF: Science, Philosophy, and Faith.  By Philip Clayton and Steven Knapp.  New York:  Oxford University Press, 2011.  X + 184 pages.

                The word “apologetics” might not be the best descriptor for The Predicament of Belief, but that may have less to do with the intent of the authors, and more to do with the accumulated baggage from other apologetic enterprises.  The Predicament of Belief is not an attempt to accumulate evidence that demands a verdict; rather, like Schleiermacher’s Speeches to the Cultured Despisers the authors of this book seek to present theism as a reasonable and viable understanding of ultimate reality to an increasingly skeptical audience.    

                Philip Clayton and Steven Knapp are scholars and persons of faith.  Both have impressive academic credentials.  Clayton is Ingraham Professor of Theology and Dean of the Claremont School of Theology, along with serving as the founding Provost of newly born Claremont Lincoln University.  He has published numerous books and articles on theology and philosophy.  One of his primary interests is the relationship of religion and science.  I’ve previously reviewed two of his books, and have had the opportunity to personally dialog with him on matters theological.  Steven Knapp is President of George Washington University and Professor of English at that university.  Although this is my first encounter with Knapp, this isn’t his first collaboration with Philip Clayton.   Together they seek to address the “predicament of belief” by taking up the challenges presented by science, philosophy, and religious pluralism to a coherent and viable theism.    

Although brief in scope, this isn’t an easy read.  The reader will need to have a good grasp of the relevant issues, but then most skeptics and questioners have informed themselves on the issues.  They simply seek a reasonable answer to their questions.   The hope of the authors is that this is a reasonable response, even though some beliefs will transcend rationality.  This is especially true as one moves from the general to the more specific.  It is one thing to affirm the idea of an Ultimate Reality (God) and quite another to believe that this Ultimate Reality was present in and through a particular person in history, such as Jesus of Nazareth.  This is, therefore, why the authors shy away from calling this book a “manual of Christian apologetics.”  This is an attempt to lay out a “minimalist personal theism,” rather than lay out a robust orthodox vision of faith.

The authors recognize that there are significant obstacles to faith, but they also believe that one needn’t be content with agnosticism.  The Christian minimalist  position, in their estimation, assumes that the “reasons for affirming Christian claims are stronger than the reasons for denying them” (p. 18).  The faith they offer holds that the natural world stems “from a not-less-than-personal ultimate reality, a way of conceiving divine action that is compatible with scientific methods and results, and a way of interpreting the New Testament resurrection claims that we think remains plausible for men and women in the twenty-first century” (p. 22).  They do this knowing that there are significant reasons for having doubts about the religious enterprise. 

Starting with the objections to faith and then moving on to a discussion of the nature of the ultimate reality and the way this reality (God) is active in the universe, while taking into consideration religious pluralism, they lay out the foundations for a minimalist personal theism (MPT), addressing along the way continuing concerns and objections. 

It is the two chapters dealing with the particular that should draw considerable attention, and the authors acknowledge that this is the heart of the predicament addressed by the book.  One will have had to buy into the more general arguments for a minimalist personal theism to make it this far.   If you accept the premise that there is an ultimate reality that is not less than personal, and recognizing that there are a variety of options available to explain that ultimate reality (religious pluralism), then perhaps you’re ready to make a home in one particular tradition.  Their understanding of this reality involves the assumption that God does not stand outside the universe intervening in supernatural ways.  That assumption may not be robust enough for many Christians, but it fits with their panentheistic understanding of God (the world is in God).  With regard to the particularities of the Christian faith their focus is on two questions – the resurrection and the uniqueness of Christ.  They deal with issues such as the Trinity as well, but these are the two topics that draw their primary attention. 

They offer a number of possible ways of understanding the resurrection, from metaphor to bodily resurrection (sort of from Borg to Wright).  They can’t affirm the traditional understanding of a bodily resurrection because it is unsustainable, in their minds, when set against a scientific framework.  They also find the metaphorical/symbolic version less than true to what the early Christians envisioned, and thus they propose a participatory model of the resurrection.

Human beings share the “Spirit of Christ” insofar as they enter into the same relationship with God that was embodied in Jesus’ self-surrender to the one he called his “father.”  The heart of this theory, in other words, is that, in the event that came to be known as Jesus’ resurrection, his self-surrendering engagement with God became newly available, through the agency of the divine Spirit, to his followers, then and since, as the form, model, and condition of their own engagement with the divine.”  (p. 90). 

This understanding doesn’t address what happened to Jesus specifically, but it does suggest that the disciples of Jesus, then and now, participate in his relationship with God in a transformative way.

                Further, the authors address the question of uniqueness of Jesus.  How does Jesus embody or represent the ultimate reality?   The participatory theory involves the assumption that in Jesus we participate in the reality that is God, through him, but that doesn’t mean that he is the one and only way for this to occur.  The New Testament does assume that Jesus is the highest and fullest instance of human participation in the person and presence of God.   But, how strong should our claims be?  Clayton and Knapp seek a way between the exclusivist position and one that resist all such claims.  They prefer to move beyond an either/or solution to one that affirms some aspects of uniqueness without ruling out other ways in which God is present.   The resurrection appearances offer a means by which one can envision the Spirit of God making the presence of Christ available, even if not in a bodily/physical form.  Jesus, by the Spirit, remains personally but not physically present.  It’s not a metaphor and it’s not a vision, but it’s not Wright’s physical/bodily/tangible presence.   I appreciate their attempt at finding a middle ground, though I’m left wanting a more robust understanding of the resurrection.  

  

                They close the book with two chapters that revisit the questions of doubt and belief, and it’s here that they address issues such as the Trinity.   Then they close with a chapter that deals with the church, and what the church might look like if it allows for a rather wide spectrum of beliefs.  Can the church survive and thrive if at its heart it requires a minimalist perspective?  The authors offer their vision of the church as the most reasonable way of reaching those who see themselves as spiritual but not religious (about 72% of millennials).   The reality is that we likely don’t have a choice.  We can be hard and fast with doctrinal rules, but that works only for a rather small number of folks, and its shrinking quickly.  Can the church thrive if membership doesn’t require that adhere to one particular understanding of God or of Jesus’ relationship to God? 

As we ponder this question the authors note that in presenting the church in this fashion we must also take into serious consideration a question raised by John Cobb:  does it matter?  Cobb is no conservative, but his suggestion that progressive denominations could be declining because we don’t always seem to believe that what we’re saying and doing is all that important.   Unless this faith gives meaning to our lives, it won’t live on, especially in an age where religion doesn’t have much social value. 

Ultimately this is the question that we face.  Does it matter whether we believe or not?  Even if we can overcome the challenges of science and theodicy and religious pluralism, does the Christian faith offer meaning to our lives? 

My feelings about this book are mixed.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve spent my entire life as a Christian and because I was an evangelical and still have some evangelical elements to my theology, I’m left wanting more.   This is especially true of the resurrection.  I’m not sure that their solution is sufficient for me.  That may be true for other readers.  On the other hand, I think this would be a most useful book for my friends that are struggling to accept even a minimalist theism.  I think that it will help move people beyond agnosticism, and maybe even atheism.   So, maybe my mixed feelings have more to say about me than about the author’s project. 

Read the book, especially if you struggle with doubt.  If you’re one who seeks a more robust view of God and of Jesus’ relationship to God, then you might be left wanting more, but recognize that the authors really aren’t speaking to you.  It has its audience, and hopefully it will help draw into the body those who struggle to find meaning for their lives.  One of the reasons why a book like this may not appeal to everyone is that many people prefer a more black and white kind of faith.  The faith they offer is rather complex and even messy, and that can be troubling.  

The Muslim Luther and Reformation -- Sightings

I continue to be fascinated by Islam and its place in the world.   For this very reason I worked to invite Saeed Khan, a faculty member at Wayne State University, to lead a series of presentations on Islam at the church.  This series has led to a new set of informal conversations about Islam at a local coffee house.  

Why should we be interested in Islam?  Well, along with Christianity, Islam makes up more than two-thirds of the world's population.  It is diverse in race and ethnicity and in culture.  Many non-Muslim observers have wondered -- will Islam experience a reformation like Protestantism?  That question is taken up in a Sightings post by Mun'im Sirry, a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Chicago.  I invite you to read and engage in a conversation about Islam and how it fits into our modern/post-modern world.  To what degree will events and ideas of this age penetrate Islam and transform it -- either positively or negatively?   Consider this -- one of the outgrowths of the Crusades was Christian encounters with Islamic culture that transformed the culture and theology of Christendom.  Consider the reintroduction of Aristotle into the theological mix.  Will something similar happen to Islam due to its encounter with the "West"?  

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Sightings  2/23/2012

  

The Muslim Luther and Reformation

-- Mun’im Sirry

  On February 15, 2012, Abdulkarim Soroush, a visiting Professor at The University of Chicago, delivered a thoughtful and enlightening talk about revival and reform in Islam. Mohammad Ayatollahi Tabaar writes in The New York Times, “Soroush has been described as a Muslim Luther, but unlike the Protestant reformer, he is no literalist about holy books.” Robin Wright, a journalist who writes frequently about the Middle East, also describes him as “the Martin Luther of Islam,” however she acknowledges that Soroush himself prefers to avoid comparison with Luther. In the beginning of his talk, Dr. Soroush argued that Islam has not undergone a reformation similar to that of Protestantism. This contention is certainly debatable since a number of Muslim reformers cited the need to reform Islam as Christianity was reformed. Even Muhammad Iqbal, one of the Muslim reformers whose projects were discussed by Dr. Soroush, identified Protestant elements in Islamic reform: “We are today passing through a period similar to that of the Protestant revolution in Europe, and the lesson which the rise and outcome of Luther’s movement teaches should not be lost on us.”           

Many scholars discuss how the idea of “Muslim Luther” or “Islamic Protestantism” emerges in the discourses of Muslim reformers, especially the Shi’i circle. Charles Kurzman and Michaelle Browers explore the historical usage of the Islamic-Protestant reformation analogy. Sukidi specifically traces the traveling idea of Islamic Protestantism to what he calls “Iranian Luthers,” namely, Jamal al-Din al-Afghani, Ali Shari‘ati and Hashem Aghajari. This characterization is, of course, not without problems. Muslim reformers might follow patterns of religious reform similar to those of Christian reformers, yet they certainly found their own ways of dealing with their tradition. However, the analogy is not invalid, given that these Muslim reformers themselves expressed their admiration for Luther and other Christian reformers. Afghani, for instance, strongly believed that Islam needs a Luther and he might have seen himself as that Luther.           

The Egyptian Muhammad ‘Abduh’s admiration for Protestant reformation is often overlooked by scholars. Undoubtedly, ‘Abduh is the most influential Sunni scholar whose ideas of Islamic reform reached far beyond the theological divide and the Arab world. In his magnum opus, Risalat al-tawhid, ‘Abduh argues that Christian reformation included “elements by no means unlike Islam.” It would surprise no one that ‘Abduh was so impressed by the way Christian reformers strove to break the entail of obscurantism, curb the authority of religious leaders and keep them from exceeding the precept of religion. “They discovered,” ‘Abduh writes, “that liberty of thought and breadth of knowledge were means to faith and not its foe.” 

It is worthwhile that, unlike other Muslim reformers, ‘Abduh brings the discussion deeper into theological issues. “The reforming groups in the West,” he says, “brought their doctrines to a point closely in line with the dogma of Islam, with the exception of belief in the prophetic mission of Muhammad. Their religion was in all but name the religion of Muhammad; it differed only in the form of worship, not in the meaning or anything else.”           

Perhaps, it was his disciple, Rashid Rida, who pushed this idea further to argue that belief in the prophethood of Muhammad is not a sine qua non for salvation. Commenting on Qur’an 2:62, he rejects the idea that this verse implicitly stipulates belief in Muhammad. In his own words: “… there is no problem for not stipulating belief in the Prophet because the verse deals with God’s treatment of each people and community who believe in a Prophet and a revelation particular to them. Their salvation (fawzuha) is certain whether they were Muslims, Jews, Christians, or Sabeans. God declares that salvation lies not in religious allegiance (al-jinsiyya al-diniyya) but in true belief which has control over self and in good deed.” Elsewhere, Rida emphasizes the need to combine “religious renewal and earthly renewal, the same way Europe has done with religious reformation and modernization.” Rida’s attitude toward other religions is more complex than is sometimes supposed and is beyond the scope of this article. 

It is interesting that Muslim reformers like ‘Abduh and Rida have no qualms dealing with the theological aspects of the nature of Christian reformation. While some Muslims might truly believe that Islam faces challenges similar to those faced by Christianity in Europe, ‘Abduh simply asserts that “Many scholars in Western countries confess that Islam has been the greatest of their mentors in attaining their present position.” Christian reformation is not alien to Muslim reformers, but one may still wonder why Muslim reformers envision their projects in light of Protestant reformation.

References 

Mohammad Ayatollahi Tabaar, “Who Wrote the Koran?,” The New York Times, December 5, 2008. 

Robin Wright, “Scholar Emerges as the Martin Luther of Islam,” The Seattle Times, February 12, 1995. 

Michaelle Browers and Charles Kurzman (eds.), An Islamic Reformation? (Lanham, NJ: Lexington, 2003): pp. 1-17. 

Sukidi, “The Traveling Idea of Islamic Protestantism: A Study of Iranian Luthers,” Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations (2005): pp. 401-412. 

Muhammad ‘Abduh, Risala al-tawhid (Cairo: Matba‘a Muhammad ‘Ali Sabih, 1966). 

Mun’im Sirry is a PhD candidate in Islamic Studies at the University of Chicago Divinity School. He is currently a Martin Marty Center Junior Fellow and a Harper Dissertation Fellow. His dissertation is entitled Reformist Muslim Approaches to the Polemics of the Qur’an against Other Religions. 

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 This month’s Religion & Culture Web Forum is by Emanuela Zanotti Carney, on Voices of Despair and Gestures of Grief in Rituals of Mourning and Italian Marian Laments in the late Middle Ages. As devotion to Mary as the "mother of sorrows" flourished in the late Middle Ages, poetic narratives of Mary's lamentations at the foot of the cross became an important sub-genre of Marian literature.  Emanuela Zanotti Carney studies Marian laments written in the Italian vernacular, arguing that "poets and compilers ... conveyed the emotional experience of the Virgin at the cross by embodying traditional rituals of mourning performed by women (thecorrotto) into their lyrical and dramatic texts" (2-3).  Seeking an emotional reaction to Mary's grief, these laments "transformed audiences from passive recipients of a sacred story to active and engaged participants in the history of salvation" (32). Read Voices of Despair and Gestures of Grief.

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 Sightings comes from the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School.

It's the Water -- A Lectionary Reflection

Genesis 9:8-17

1 Peter 3:18-22

Mark 1:9-15

It’s the Water, 
and a Lot More

           It’s the beginning of Lent, a journey that takes us from temptation to temptation, from grief to death.  It’s a time of reflection and for letting go of distractions and obstructions.  Some of us do better at this than others.  I must confess to a lack of discipline in these things, and Lent has been no different than any other season.  But the invitation to allow God access to our lives so that we might be reconciled and renewed is there.  Here is an invitation to join Jesus in the wilderness, where trust in God is essential. 

Reference is made in each of these lectionary texts to water, which as we know is the foundation for life.  Without it life is, it appears, impossible.  This is why astronomers search the heavens looking for planets that might have water, and thus the promise of life.  We know that our carbon-based bodies are made up primarily of water, and so without water there’s little left except chemicals.  Thus, water is, so to speak, our life-blood.

Water is the thread that connects these three texts, taking us from the story of Noah to Jesus’ own baptism at the hands of John, with a stop to reflect on the salvific effects of the baptismal waters.  What we learn is that God is at work in the midst of these waters, not washing away dirt, but drawing humanity into the covenant community.  Water is, for Noah and for Jesus, the starting point for a journey into the presence of God, and in 1 Peter, baptism is linked to the Noah story, serving as “mark of a good conscience toward God.”  Thus, as we begin our Lenten journey, we begin in baptism, which ushers us into the covenant community.    

Although baptism doesn’t figure directly into the Genesis passage, the fact that the author of 1 Peter appeals to Noah’s experience with the Flood, which serves as a metaphor for baptism, connects the Noah story to the other texts.  Baptism is for Christians one of the two foundational sacraments. We may vary in our theologies and our practices, but whether applied at the beginning of life or at some later time of accountability, Baptism serves as a sign of reconciliation and inclusion into the covenant community of God. 

To provide a theological context to consider the relationship of these texts to baptism, I want to point to an invitation given to Disciples of Christ to deepen their theology of baptism.  In a book edited by Keith Watkins, we hear this word:

Through the signs of water and word, God is reaching out to humanity to join us to God’s own self.  It is this transcendent aspect of Christian baptism that has taught us a truth we did not initiate, and that bids us into covenant partnership with God-in-Christ through baptism.  In the preamble to our Design, we affirm along with the whole church in every time and place that baptism is ours only as a gift.  [Keith Watkins, ed., Baptism and Belonging, (Chalice Press, 1991), pp. 16-17]. 

With this thread in mind we turn to three texts that introduce us to the Lenten journey. 

            If you grew up in the church, as did I, you were introduced to the Noah story early on.  You probably didn’t hear the whole story, how God judged the earth and killed every living thing, except Noah, his family, and the mating pairs of animals who would, like and his family, repopulate the earth.  All we heard was that God told Noah to prepare for the Flood by building an ark and making room for all these animals.  Later I learned that Noah’s Ark was located somewhere up on Mt Ararat in Turkey.  That was, however, back in my more literalist days.  In this passage, the Flood has subsided, and before Noah, his family, and the animals leave the ark, God makes a covenant with them, that never again would the flood waters destroy all creatures.  The sign of this covenant is the bow that God places in the clouds.  It will serve as a reminder, not to human or non-human life, but to God.  When God sees the rainbow in the sky, God “will remember the enduring covenant between God and every living being of all earth’s creatures.”

            It’s important to note the breadth of the covenant partners included in this relationship, especially in light of recent comments made by a Presidential candidate who accused the President of having a non-biblical theology that placed humanity below the earth.  What is clear in this passage is that God not only covenants with Noah and family, but with all creatures – great and small.  There is a strong environmental/ecological message present in this covenant.  As Nicole Johnson writes in her lectionary commentary on this passage:

God’s promise to protect the entire creation calls the faith community to see its own existence and well-being as tied together with the existence and well-being of the rest of the created order, so loved and protected by its creator.  Humans are in covenant not only with one another and God but with the natural world as well. (Preaching God's Transforming Justice: A Lectionary Commentary, Year B. p. 129). 

It is a reminder that God’s reconciling vision of a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:19) must include more than simply human life, but all of God’s creation.

            When we come to 1 Peter 3, we find a discussion about the reconciling ministry of Jesus, who dies that we might have forgiveness of sins, but who is made alive in the resurrection so that he might take his place at the right side of God, where Jesus “rules over all angels, authorities, and powers” (1 Pet. 3:22 CEB).  This is a rather intriguing passage with mysterious connotations.  The meaning of baptism is linked to the Flood, and the ministry of Jesus includes preaching “to the spirits in prison,” that is the disobedient spirits that had been waiting since the time of Noah to hear this message of salvation. 

            There isn’t space here to explore the implications of this obscure reference, though it has been taken as the foundation of the so-called “harrowing of hell,” whereby Jesus liberated the spirits from their hellish existence so that, having heard the good news, might be saved.  It’s a passage that gives some support to the idea that there are post-grave opportunities to hear and respond to the gospel.  The passage is not clear, but it is suggestive, and thus worth pondering.

            With regard to baptism, Peter connects it to the Flood, so that even as Noah and his family are “rescued through water, baptism is like that.  It saves you now . . . because it is a mark of a good conscience toward God” (1 Peter 3:20-21 CEB).  Peter links this act of baptism to the resurrection, which is the ultimate foundation of salvation.  Although this reference is not as clear as Paul’s reference in Romans 6, here it seems that baptism serves as a sign of identification with Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection.  Even as we go through the baptismal waters we are saved through the resurrection of the one who sits in heaven at God’s right side.  If the connection with Noah holds, then baptism isn’t just an appeal of a good conscience, it is the sign of the covenant that God makes with the world. 

            With the gospel reading we return to the Baptism of Jesus, which we observed at the beginning of Epiphany.  Once again we hear a word of how Jesus came to John and was baptized in the Jordan.  Mark’s account is brief and active.  As he comes out of the water, the heavens split open and Jesus sees a Spirit fall like a dove upon him, and then hears a voice from heaven:  “You are my Son, whom I dearly love; in you I find happiness.”  There is, of course, an adoptionist understanding of Jesus’ relationship to God.  There’s no pre-existence or miraculous birth, just an embrace of Jesus as the one who would be God’s Son – and thus the one who would represent God in this world.

            But the baptism is only part of the story.  We’ve already been to this place in this story, and so we must move with Jesus into the wilderness.  Mark with his forceful delivery tells us that the Spirit “at once . . . forced Jesus out into the wilderness.”   The wilderness of Palestine shouldn’t be confused with our understanding of wilderness.  Growing up in Oregon, wilderness means rugged mountains with lots of big trees.  Here the wilderness is a desert.  Water may be the foundation of life, but here water is a scarce commodity, and thus life is precarious.  Here Jesus faces the tempter, Satan.  For forty days, Jesus is out among the animals, facing temptation.  What this temptation is, Mark doesn’t say.  Matthew and Luke fill in the details, but Mark just has Jesus wrestling with temptation, and as he does, the angels, whom according to 1 Peter, Jesus will one day rule over, attend to his needs in this difficult hour.

            Following this wilderness experience, and after John is arrested, Jesus begins his ministry.  He goes into Galilee, a much lusher place to live, where he announces God’s good news.  And what is this good news:  “Now is the time!  Here comes God’s Kingdom!  Change your hearts and lives, and trust this good news!” (Mark 1:14-15 CEB).  From Baptism to the travails of the desert, Jesus is prepared to take up his calling to preach the good news, the news that saves and brings into existence God’s kingdom.  The nature of the kingdom isn’t defined.  But it’s clear that the kingdom is coming, and it’s time to get ready.  So do change your heart and you life, so you’ll be ready.  And know that it is for this reason that God is happy.  The reign of God in Christ is here.

            As we begin this Lenten journey, a journey that begins in a baptism that draws us into the covenant community of God, we hear our own calling to announce God’s good news.  As Paul makes clear in a passage read during Ash Wednesday, to us is given the ambassadorship of reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:20).  Since the reign of Christ is upon us, may we trust our lives to the God proclaimed in this good news. 

     

The Bible, Disability, and the Church -- A Review

THE BIBLE, DISABILITY, AND THE CHURCH: A New Vision of the People of God.   By Amos Yong.  Grand Rapids:  Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011.   Xiii + 161 pp.

                Why do churches sometimes try to evade the American Disabilities Act?  Does this evasion suggest a lack of concern for persons with disabilities?  When it comes to reading Scripture, do we read it in ways that perpetuate stereotypes and stigmas?  And does our language exclude rather than include and welcome persons with disabilities? 

                I must admit that until I began reading Amos Yong’s book The Bible, Disability, and the Church I hadn’t thought much about these kinds of questions.  Reading this book was a consciousness-raising experience that forced me to look at biblical texts and the church in a very new and different light.

I became acquainted with Yong’s work as I reviewed Who is the Holy Spirit?  (Paraclete, 2011).  Being that I’m interested in the Holy Spirit, this was a natural book for me to read, and I was impressed by the quality of his theological work.  So, when this book appeared, I requested a review copy to see what a Pentecostal theologian might have to say about this topic.   Although Yong is a Pentecostal teaching at a divinity school sponsored by a famous TV evangelist, his perspective might surprise some readers, especially non-Pentecostals living on the left side of the theological divide.  But whether one is surprised or not by the author’s perspective, the reader will be transformed. 

As an evangelical Yong has a high view of scripture.  It is for him the Word of God and thus needs to be taken seriously.  But, he also understands that how we interpret that text has important implications for how we live out the Christian life.  Although as a Pentecostal he believes that God heals, he also knows that God is not healing curing everyone or removing the disabilities experienced by people.  Thus, perhaps there other ways in which healing occurs – including the removal of stigmas that isolate and exclude persons. 

Yong’s own engagement with how the church views and includes persons with disabilities began early in life, as he helped care for his brother who has Down syndrome.   This relationship, together with watching his brother living out his faith fully and enthusiastically, opened his eyes to the way in which persons with disabilities are often viewed in the church.  This engagement opened his eyes as well to the fact that persons with disabilities, including people with intellectual disabilities have gifts and charisms to bring to the community of faith.  

His engagement with his brother and others with disabilities led to his reengaging scripture.  We know that there are numerous stories, often healing stories that include persons with disabilities.  According to the Gospels, for instance, Jesus heals the lame, the leper, the epileptic, the hemorrhaging woman, persons who were blind and deaf.  I myself have interpreted these actions as restoring persons to wholeness, but in making this interpretation, have I stigmatized persons with disabilities as being less than whole?   Yong refers to such interpretations as reading the text from a “normate” position.  That is, a perspective on the text from the vantage point of what society considers normal or able-bodied. 

But in helping us look at this question of perspective, we need to look at the language we use.  He points out that in our day there are attempts at avoiding discriminatory language.  This we use terms like physically challenged to avoid negative connotations, but he chooses to retain the language of disability, in part because it’s accessible to most church goers, but in doing so we should avoid the “linguistic trap of reducing people to their disabilities.”  But, having said this, disabilities are part of the person.  With that in mind he spends time near the end of the book with how we envision the resurrection body.  Do we assume that these “disabilities” cease to mark the person?  He notes that Down Syndrome is part of who is brother is.  In speaking of disability, he includes a wide spectrum of realities, from physical to intellectual.  The discussion is complex, but Yong approaches it with grace and sensitivity.  His focus is not on why persons have disabilities, but rather on raising our awareness of disabilities so that our churches can be truly inclusive and welcoming.

 

This is a book written for the church, inviting it to think a new about the question of disability.  It asks us to consider whether disability is some intrinsic evil that needs to be eliminated, either here on earth or in the age to come?   But in writing this word to the church, he focuses his attention on the way we read Scripture.  In the course of four chapters, we move from the Old Testament to the gospels, through the letters, and finally to eschatologically focused texts. 

He addresses the holiness codes that stipulated who is considered fit to join the community in worship.  Disabilities are often seen as blemishes and thus prohibitive.  Holding to a high view of scripture he wishes to redeem these texts.  There are, however, other texts, such as the passage describing Jacob’s limp, which is a mark of his spiritual encounter with God and not a blemish, or David’s care for Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan who has a disability.  There are discussions of Job and prayers and laments found in the Psalms.  What he notes is that we need to move beyond just looking at what the Bible says, and recognize the complexity of perspective that is found in these pages, a complexity that can help us better understand what it means to have a disability and how that affects one’s place in the congregation. 

The Gospels and Acts, of course, are full of healing stories, which often involve questions of forgiveness.  He pushes on the idea that healing comes as a result of forgiveness of sins, as if it is sin that leads to disability. From a disability perspective, we need to push back on such ideas.   He also asks the question as to whether physical healing is a prerequisite to discipleship.   But consider the story of the eunuch – he becomes a disciple, but his status as a eunuch isn’t reversed.  Perhaps the most powerful point of this chapter is the conversation about Pentecost.  He reminds us that the “all flesh” receiving the Holy Spirit includes people with disabilities. 

From Paul he takes a “theology of weakness.”  He notes Paul’s own confessions about a “thorn in the flesh.”  While we don’t know exactly what this “thorn” was, in some way or another Paul seems to have a disability.  This theology of weakness includes Paul’s discussion of honoring the weaker member.  From this Yong discerns the possibility that the weaker one is essential to the church and due greater honor, and they are equal recipients of the Spirit’s charisms.  Indeed, they are indispensable to the life of the church.

In the final chapter, Yong looks at the issue eschatologically.  He raises the question of disabilities and the resurrection.  Whether or not you believe in a physical resurrection, this is a fascinating discussion because it reflects on how we look at persons with disabilities in the here and now.   If there is no place for disabilities in the new creation does that mean that something about a person’s identity gets lost in the eschaton?   Is such a vision of a “disability-free paradise” ultimately oppressive to persons with disabilities?  Yong answers:  “a disability perspective would insist that some impairments are so identity-constitutive that their removal would involve the obliteration of the person as well” (p. 121).   Examples include dwarfism – Zacchaeus – and Down syndrome.   Even blindness and deafness become for many persons with these disabilities formative of their identities and character.  Will this be lost in the eschaton? 

In answering these questions he notes first that in Paul’s discussion of the resurrection bodies (1 Corinthians 15, there is transformation and continuity.  Thus, our sizes and shapes and forms are part of this continuity.  In addition, Yong points our attention to Jesus’ own resurrection body, which according to John’s Gospel retains the wounds from the cross.  Could this be Jesus’ way of entering into the experience of persons with disabilities?   And thus these impairments are redeemed, not removed. 

This is a powerful meditation on Scripture.  Even if you don’t read the text the same as the author at every point, you will be transformed by reading it.  It will help form a new perspective on how the church views and welcomes persons with disabilities.  It raises an interesting question as to the way in which we view healing.  In many cases, the healing that’s needed isn’t the physical cure of a person, but a healing of attitudes that stigmatize and ostracize persons with disabilities.    With the intention of addressing negative interpretations of biblical and theological images that are embedded in Jewish and Christian cultures, we are led toward a more redemptive and welcoming interpretation.  The hope is that the church will be transformed, but also the broader culture. 

Yong’s attempt to lay out a disability reading of scripture takes its place among other readings of the scripture that seek to liberate those whom society has marginalized.  As is true with feminist and liberationist readings, whether Latin American, Asian, or black theology, it reminds us that context matters and vantage point matters.  Since most readers and interpreters begin with normate readings, it’s important to read the texts anew in the light of the experiences of others.

Since this book is well written, thoughtful and accessible, it should find a ready audience in the church.  Yong doesn’t take an adversarial position, but rather with grace and humility, he invites us to enter the text of scripture and read it with new lenses.  The author honors Scripture, even reveres it, and yet he finds ways deconstructing the way it’s read.  He invites us to experience healing so that we might share in the blessings of fellowship with those we so often consider disabled.  Our efforts are enhanced by the inclusion of discussion/Reflection questions at the end of each chapter.  Therefore, we have the resources to begin the conversation.  Take and read, and be transformed. 

Be Reconciled -- An Ash Wednesday Reflection

 It is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, a season of reflection and repentance.  We do this knowing that God has already reconciled us to Godself through Christ.  Having been reconciled and having received this word with openness, we are now able to be God's ambassadors.  We tell the story of Christ, who, according to Paul, did not know sin, but became sin so that we might know the righteousness of God.

I invite you to read these words of Paul taken from 2 Corinthians 5-6, a text designated by the lectionary for Ash Wednesday.  Hear the word of reconciliation and the invitation to ministry.

²⁰ So we are ambassadors who represent Christ. God is negotiating with you through us. We beg you as Christ’s representatives, “Be reconciled to God!” ²¹ God caused the one who didn’t know sin to be sin for our sake so that through him we could become the righteousness of God.

 ¹ Since we work together with him, we are also begging you not to receive the grace of God in vain. ² He says, I listened to you at the right time, and I helped you on the day of salvation. Look, now is the right time! Look, now is the day of salvation! 

 ³ We don’t give anyone any reason to be offended about anything so that our ministry won’t be criticized. ⁴ Instead, we commend ourselves as ministers of God in every way. We did this with our great endurance through problems, disasters, and stressful situations. ⁵ We went through beatings, imprisonments, and riots. We experienced hard work, sleepless nights, and hunger. ⁶ We displayed purity, knowledge, patience, and generosity. We served with the Holy Spirit, genuine love, ⁷ telling the truth, and God’s power. We carried the weapons of righteousness in our right hand and our left hand. ⁸ We were treated with honor and dishonor and with verbal abuse and good evaluation. We were seen as both fake and real, ⁹ as unknown and well known, as dying—and look, we are alive! We were seen as punished but not killed, ¹⁰ as going through pain but always happy, as poor but making many rich, and as having nothing but owning everything. (2 Corinthians 5:20-6:10a Common English Bible).

As you reflect on these words, consider the nature of our ministry.  Consider the way in which God calls us to be present in the world.  It is a call to humility.  It is a call to take the way of the cross.  It is not "onward Christian soldiers marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before."  The cross is not a weapon to be wielded, but a path that leads us through Christ into the presence of God.

As you reflect on these words of Paul, consider also these words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer from his Ethics.

The church is the place where it is proclaimed and taken seriously that God has reconciled the world to himself in Christ, that God so loved the world that God gave his Son for it.  The spaced of the church is not there in order to fight with the world for a piece of its territory, but precisely to testify to the world that it is still the world, namely, the world that is loved and reconciled by God.  It is not true that the church intends to or must spread its space out over the space of the world.  It desires no more space than it needs to serve the world with its witness to Jesus Christ and to the world's reconciliation to God through Jesus Christ.  The church can only defend its own space by fighting, not for space, but for the salvation of the world.  Otherwise the church becomes a "religious society" that fights in its own interest and thus has ceased to be the church of God in the world.  So the first task given to those who belong to the church of God is not to be something for themselves, for example, by creating a religious organization or leading a pious life, but to be witnesses of Jesus Christ to the world.  For this the Holy Spirit equips those to whom the Spirit comes.  Of course, it is presupposed that such a witness to the world can only happen in the right way when it comes out of sanctified life in God's church-community.  Nevertheless, true sanctified life in the church-community of God is distinguished from any pious imitation by the fact that it leads the believer at the same time into witness to the world.  Where that witness has become silent it is a sign of inner decay in the church-community, just as failure to bear fruit is a sign that a tree is dying.  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer,  Ethics (Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works, Vol. 6), pp. 63-64).

May we be listening this day to the God who seeks to reconcile the world to Godself in Christ and invites us to be humble partners in this work.

Seeking Justice for the Community

As I read scripture, I am continually reminded that God is concerned about justice, especially justice for the poor and the marginalized in our society.  Some politicians may not be concerned about those who fall below the poverty line. Some of my fellow believers may not care.  But, it’s clear that God cares.

Consider the words of the Psalmist who declares:

Give justice to the lowly and the orphan; maintain the right of the poor and the destitute!  Rescue the lowly and the needy.  Deliver them    from the power of the wicked!  (Psalm 82:3-4 Common English Bible).

Or consider this word from the prophet Jeremiah:

No, if you truly reform your ways and your actions; if you treat each other justly;  if you stop taking advantage of the immigrant, orphan, or widow; if you don’t shed the blood of the innocent in this place, or go after other gods to your own ruin, only then will I dwell with you in this place, in the land that I gave long ago to your ancestors for all time.  (Jeremiah 7:5-7 CEB).  

Then there is the word of judgment offered by Jesus:

“Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who will receive good things from my Father. Inherit the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world began. I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me. 36 I was naked and you gave me clothes to wear. I was sick and you took care of me. I was in prison and you visited me.’    . . .  “Then the king will reply to them, ‘I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.’  (Matthew 25:34-40).

Scriptures like these remind me that God is concerned about justice, and justice means something other than “law and order.”  The focus of God’s justice is creating a community of equity and fairness.  In Roman Catholic social teaching it’s called “God’s preferential option for the poor.”  

It is from this biblical perspective that I have tried to understand my role in society, and that of the church.  As a result I chose to join in the formation of a coalition of suburban congregations seeking to engage the political and economic systems so that they might become just and fair and responsive to the needs of the people living in our communities.  This coalition has its origins in conversations that began a year ago, and that led to the formation of the Metropolitan Coalition of Congregations.  Our purpose is spelled out in our mission statement:

"The Metro Coalition of Congregations is an interfaith organization of clergy and religious congregations working together for transformative systemic and societal change in our communities. The Coalition, representing Macomb, Oakland and Wayne counties, is seeking partnership with civic leaders from metro Detroit communities, and is committed to building power in order to influence policy and become a strong, unified voice speaking out and taking action on issues that affect all of southeast Michigan. "

As a coalition we have chosen to focus our attention on the issue of financial and economic justice, with a special focus on the foreclosure crisis.  We have been engaged in a number of activities, including hosting a Faith and Financial Justice Summit in November that provided an opportunity for members of the faith community to hear from a number of sources, including political leaders and persons involved in providing assistance to those in need.  

Among the issues we discussed was the logjam that keeps the State of Michigan’s Housing and Development Authority (MSHDA) from releasing more than $400 million dollars in federal money designed to prevent homeowners from suffering foreclosure.  Very little of that money has found its way to its intended beneficiaries, and if you google this program you'll find little news coverage.  We'd like to see this change, so a meeting has been set up for members of the coalition to meet with the head of MSHDA to see what can be done to facilitate the movement of funds.   We have talked about putting pressure on banks that have resisted participating in efforts to work with homeowners to resolve these problems.

Consider for a moment that one in three Michigan homeowners owes more on their mortgages than their homes are now worth.  

One of the ways we are responding to this crisis is to launch a preaching series on Economic Justice in churches across the three Metro Detroit counties.  In sermons, worship experiences, and faith expressions we are trying to get the word out, letting congregants know what kinds of resources are available to them, and inviting them to get involved in changing a system that often works against the best interests of the community.   We observed this day at my congregation on February 19th.  Others are doing so throughout January and February.

We hope that these experiences will lead to conversations that will empower people in the community to work for fair and ethical banking, and financial justice.

By raising the issue in worship we want to counter the  personal shame and guilt that are often  associated with foreclosure and highlight the injustice of big banks that have been throwing congregants, their friends, and their neighbors out of their homes.  

I hope that you will reflect on these texts of scripture, these issues that confront us, and consider joining us in working toward a just and lasting solution.  For more information about the coalition see our website.

Reposted from Troy Patch