Preaching in a Liturgical Setting

I went to an Episcopalian church service last Sunday (for a paper I'm writing). Overall, I enjoyed it. Something that stuck out to me was how different it is when the preacher preaches after the readings rather than reading the scriptures as a part of the sermon. There is something strange about having already read the passage and put it away. The preacher cannot say, "Look with me at verse four," because it is past that time in the service for having the Bible out. Something about it seems to undermine its very purpose. Instead of going to the Bible for the message, we are attempting to remember what we read. The whole purpose of expository preaching (as its proponents often argue) is to make sure the message of the sermon flows from the biblical text itself rather than being imposed upon the text. But the message is blunted when the text is not in front of the congregation during the preaching.

Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.

I'm sort of freaking out right now. I have so much going on. I have all kinds of papers due this week. We're doing a one-week non-stop (170 hour) prayer meeting at church, and I really ought to cover some of the time slots. Plus I would really like to find a job so that Diana can come back home with the kids, which she really really wants. I am just feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. And I have to figure out how to pay for all these classes (and the rest of the books I need... and the rest of our bills... you know how it goes).

And on top of it all, I have this crazy feeling like I really ought to go to SBL in San Diego in a few weeks. It seems absurd, but, I don't know. I'll gladly take donations. Second best would be advice on how to get really good deals to make it happen.

Muslims and the Power of God

It is illuminating to read the reasons that Christians who are former Muslims give for converting. In a recent study conducted at Fuller Seminary in California, J. Dudley Woodberry looked at converts from many Muslim peoples and nations. The top three reasons given are:

1. The way Christians they were in contact with lived their lives
2. Visible manifestations of the power of God
3. Frustration with the way Muslims they were in contact with lived their lives
4. Dreams and visions, especially of Jesus.

Half the answers given are charismatic/pentecostal kinds of answers. Number 2 included healings, answered prayer, and deliverance from demonic spirits. Obviously, it is not the nice, tame Christianity of either Evangelicals or Liberals that is drawing Muslims. It is an honest-to-God supernatural faith with the power to back it up.


By the way, what ever happened to AlHaj? His blog seems to have disappeared several weeks ago? AlHaj, are you still around? I still owe you a defense of the doctrine of the Trinity.

The Quest for the Perfect Bible

Last night before I went to bed I spent an hour or so looking through the CBD catalog at Bibles. I dreamt all night about finding the perfect Bible. CBD has, I don't know, seven to ten pages of Bibles in their catalog, so there's a lot to look through. I was disappointed that I did not see one original language Bible. I guess there was one interlinear Bible, but that one is based on the centuries-out-of-date scholarship of the textus receptus.

I seem to get a new Bible about every three years. I am on a quest for the perfect Bible, which of course changes from season to season in my life. I started with the RSV I was given at confirmation. Then when I became a Christian, a friend of mine showed me the Student Bible, put together by Philip Yancey. I don't know what it is about the Student Bible, but there's something about it that says, "The Bible is cool. Read me." There really are not a lot of extras, and the 'helps' are not amazingly helpful, but there is something about it's layout that makes me, even now, think, "Wow, what a great Bible." For all the options out there, this one is still the best to give to a new believer.

Unfortunately my student Bible was only paperback, and it quickly became dogeared and beat-up. Time for hard cover. My parents took me to the bookstore to buy me a Bible for my birthday, and I picked out some generic study bible in the NIV. (For what I was looking for, I should have graduated to the NIV Study Bible, but I didn't know better yet.)

It was, I think, a year or two later that I asked my pastor what translation he preferred. He highly recommended the NASB. A few months later I bought my first NASB, the most literal translation available. This time I graduated to bonded leather. Though there were no book introductions or study notes, but I discovered the use of the side column references. I used them all the time to find parallel passages in the synoptic gospels, OT references, similarly themed verses, etc. The mini-concordance in the back was also quite extensive. Between the concordance and the references, I could usually find just about any verse that would come up.

The only thing that bothered me about the NASB was the stupid idea of the translators to refer to God with the pronouns Thee and Thou. But this really bothered me. Imagine my delight when, in 1995, the translators released an updated version with the Thees and Thous gone! I immediately bought a new one, this time in genuine leather. Do you know the difference between bonded and genuine leather? By this point I sure did. Unlike genuine leather, bonded leather is strips of leather glued on to a cardboard back. If you use it with any regularity, the glue will begin to come loose and the leather will start to fray, especially at the corners. Genuine leather is much nicer.

Once I started to learn the original languages, though, English bibles were no longer as exciting. My most recent Bible is built of two Bibles: an interlinear Greek/English (with UBS4/NA27 text) and parallel NRSV; and the Jewish Publication Society's (JPS) Hebrew-English Tanakh (Old Testament). I put grocery-bag book covers on them (just like high school textbooks) and taped them together, creating a complete Bible. What a cool idea, I thought.

But in practice I am very frustrated with this solution. First, it doesn't sit open like a single book. Whichever I have open sits awkwardly on top of the other book. I could deal with this, but a much bigger frustration is that I have no cross references or mini concordance. I didn't realize how often I use them until I no longer had them. Now I am absolutely lost whenever I get to the point of, "Oh shoot, what's that one verse?" Or reading through Matthew, I read a passage and I want to remind myself quickly whether the passage has a parallel in Mark. So I end up keeping my old NASB open next to me as I read, which entirely defeats the purpose.

Eventually I hope to graduate to a straight Hebrew/Greek Bible (which does include cross-references, though no mini-concordance). But even then I'm not sure how happy I'll be with it. I could do away with the Greek/English interlinear, but I will also lose my ability to read through, say, the gospel of Mark in a single sitting. Plus, I use my Bible too much "on the fly," and I don't think I'll ever be at the place where I can interpret on the spot for whomever I'm talking to.

Maybe I just have to use a computer Bible on laptop or handheld as my primary Bible. Something about that just seems wrong, though. I still want my primary Bible to be printed on real, physical paper.

My perfect Bible for this stage in my life would have: (1)Greek/Hebrew, (2)Parallel English translation; (3)Cross-references. It would also be great if it had (4)a mini concordance (in English, I suppose), and (5)still fit in my bag. I suppose I'm living in a dream world, but I'm not quite willing to admit defeat yet. I would love any advice from anyone else who has gone through a similar struggle.

What is your Bible story? How many Bibles have you gone through in your life? Why did you switch from one to another? Drop me a comment. I would love to hear.

The Challenge of Chrisendom

I've been thinking about this interview with Chris Tilling over at Pisteuomen for a few days now. I read Chris's blog more than about anybody else's blog because, well, it's just dang funny. He's got a Charismatic background but he gets frustrated because, contrary to the tendencies of the bulk of common Charismaniacs, he actually likes to think. He's a Ph.D. student, so he's smarter than me. But what is most fun is that he is absolutely irreverent towards people's sacred cows, so you're almost certain to get offended at least once. (Which I have. But what fun would it be otherwise?)

Here is a brief response to four points Chris made:

1. "I think the pastor has the greatest responsibility to preach honest sermons, not to gloss over difficulties, gray areas and real differences of opinion."
Amen. The gray areas are one of the the primary reasons I left the pastorate to go back to school for my M.Div. I think we have an obligation to sort the stuff out fairly without just parroting the received traditions.

2. "Scholars would do a major service for the church if they enabled people to get beyond disorientation. I suspect that explains a great part of Bishop Wright's popularity."
Tom Wright, more than anyone else, was responsible for my plunge into the disorientation of scholarship. So even though I think he is pretty much the coolest scholar ever, part of me thinks he sucks.

3. "I am a theology/NT-o-phile, if you understand me. I salivate over books, read them almost non-stop, and am all-in-all a bit obsessive compulsive about turning the next page."
I admit that I am challenged by this statement. See, I love books. I love to look at books. I love to handle them and hold them. I love to read the dust jackets and flip through them and make piles of them. But I have to admit that I can tend to lose interest about half way through reading them. Sometimes it's from information overload and I need time to process, sometimes it's because I just get bored. This has really inspired me to press through and to want to become obsessive compulsive about turning the next page.

4. "By the way, I’m just joking about the Fundie shooting, of course. I know lots of lovely Fundie Christians–far better people than me. And bullets cost too much. Give me fifteen minutes with a golf club–that would be cheaper!"
Though most of what Chris writes is awfully funny, there comes a point where his pseudo-scholarship and lame-blog humor just makes me feel, well, crappy and defiled. Is this supposed to be funny? Sorry, but taking offense at gratuitous violence is not a sacred cow. Chris Tilling, you should be ashamed of yourself.

So today I (1) openly disagreed with a comment he made; (2) dissed Tom Wright; and (3) called his blogging humor pseudo-scholarship and lame; so I get three (or depending on when he reads this, four) fingers up from Mr. Tilling. I feel honored.

Thanks for the blog, Chris, and thanks for the interview, Michael.

Contempory Worship

I am a subscriber to Worship Leader magazine, and every so often they will talk about the so-called "worship wars." I have never experienced the worship wars. I grew up in a denominational church where liturgy was the epitome of rote (and meaningless) prayer. I thought to myself in high school, if people here really meant what they are saying, wouldn't they say it differently? ...wouldn't they live differently? When I became a Christian and was first looking for a church in college, my only requirement was that they had to have contemporary music because I believed anything else would be inauthentic worship. God placed me in a church that had (and has) a very similar philosophy.

Since then, I have actually come to appreciate the old hymns. When I visit my parents' church or sing in hymns at a Trinity chapel service (which is never this semester, unfortunately) it would be unnatural for me to not lift my hands and sing with all my might. I have learned to worship because of the words but in spite of the form.

In the 19th century, missionaries tended to confuse Christianity with Western culture - the buildings were European architecture, clothing was European, and missionaries looked down upon the indigenous "tribal" cultures. And of course, they all sang Western hymns. Since then, we have figured out that Christianity must be properly contextualized within each society. Churches should be as authentically native to the culture as possible, and music especially should use culturally appropriate forms, not an imported and foreign culture.

With increasing globalization, the line between what counts as missions and what doesn't has become blurred or perhaps even non-existent. We must view our churches from a missional perspective. Does our worship adequately reflect the forms of the surrounding culture? In general, hymns represent an alien musical form to people in today's society. (And honestly, most of what passes as 'contemporary worship' is really only half-way there. But that is a topic for a different post.)

Let me be clear: this is NOT about evangelism. I argued earlier that worship services are not for unbelievers. This is about meaningful worship. It is about breaking the unbiblical distinction between 'sacred' and 'secular.' Worship is us coming honestly before God, not putting on some religious show.

The Self-Perpetuating Club

Me: Would you like to join our club? It's really fun.

Unbeliever: That sounds great. What is it?

Me: Oh, it's the self-perpetuating club. Our purpose is to establish clubs everywhere we can.

Unbeliever: Wow, sounds like quite a vision. What do your clubs do once they are established?

Me: Well we make more clubs, of course.

Unbeliever: Oh, I see. And what do you talk about at your meetings?

Me: We talk about getting out there to get more people into the club. Would you like to come so that you too can be taught how to get more people into the club?

Unbeliever: No thanks. The club doesn't seem to really do anything.

Me: What?! Of course it does. It's the most important thing any club could ever do. We perpetuate ourselves!

Unbeliever: Have fun. I think I'll do something with my life that matters.


I am a part of a church planting movement, and I have a desire to see a thousand churches planted in the next thirty years (no matter how long it takes). But when evangelism and church planting becomes the primary focus of the church, it quenches my desire to do either. Is the purpose of the church to perpetuate itself? If not, what is it?

The Road to Emmaus

Emmaus is mentioned only a single time in the gospels, though this reference occurs very prominently in Luke 24.13, in the “Road to Emmaus” story. Luke tells the story of two disciples, Cleopas and an unnamed person, walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus on Easter Sunday. They are discussing early reports that Jesus has risen when Jesus Himself meets them, though they are unable to recognize Him. After lamenting how, “we were hoping that it was He who was going to redeem Israel” (24.21), Jesus explains through the scriptures how the crucifixion was a necessary fulfillment of Israel’s story. The three arrive in the evening at Emmaus and have dinner together. Suddenly the disciples recognize Jesus and He instantly disappears. The two return to Jerusalem to share their story.

Last week I turned in a paper on Emmaus for my M.Div. course on the gospels. I got an A on it which I'm pretty happy about. I am posting the results of my study in hope that someone somewhere will find my brilliant argument useful in some other endeavor, perhaps another paper. If you happen to use any of my argument in your own paper, please cite this page and drop me a comment.

Emmaus (modern Khirbet Imwas) is located about 20 miles Northwest of ancient Jerusalem. It is described in the Palestinian Talmud (Shevi’it 8, 9, 38d; Abodah Zarah 85, 44d) as the most important walled city[1] in the Shephelah, the lowland between the Mediterranean cost of ancient Philistia and the mountainous region of inland Israel. Yet Luke describes Emmaus as a village (κώμη), a small group of houses that are typically unwalled,[2] and its location being seven miles (60 stadia) from Jerusalem, not 20 miles. Within the context of Luke’s narrative, it is unlikely that the disciples would have been able to travel 40-miles round-trip on foot in a single day.[3] Because Emmaus was a relatively common name, scholars have speculated that Luke may have been referring to another Emmaus in the vicinity of Jerusalem. At least three candidates have been proposed along one of two routes from Jerusalem to the traditional Emmaus:
1. Mozah (modern Qoloniyeh/Colonia) located along the southern route to the traditional site. Mozah may be a Hebrew transliteration of Amassa (Latin) or Ammaous (Greek)[4], which are linguistically close to Emmaus. It is located only 35 stadia from Jerusalem, which may be explainable if Luke was estimating the distance, especially from the Southern side of Jerusalem where the disciples had probably taken the Last Supper.
2. Kiriath-jarim (modern Abu Ghosh) is located on the same southern route, about 83 stadia from Jerusalem. It had once housed the Ark of the Covenant for twenty years (1 Sam 7.2) before David brought it back to Jerusalem. The only thing to commend this site as the actual site is it’s relative proximity to Jerusalem, though it is still over 20 stadia farther than Luke records.
3. Castellum Emmaus (modern el-Qubeibeh) is located along the northern route to the traditional site. It was identified by the Crusaders as the Biblical Emmaus because (a) it was originally the site of a Roman fort named Castellum Emmaus, and (b) it is located 60 stadia from ancient Jerusalem. The difficulty remains, however, that this site had never been a village and likely took its name because of it’s proximity to the city of the same name.

Despite scholarly debate, it is highly likely that Luke’s Emmaus is the traditional city on the border of the Shephelah. First, there is a minority, though reliable, textual variant[5] that locates Emmaus 160 rather than 60 stadia away, the distance of the traditional site. It is conceivable that this was the original reading, and may have been changed by scribes because they could not imagine a 40-mile round-trip being taken in a single day and changed it to reflect the distance of the Roman fort (site 3). If, on the other hand, scribes changed the reading from 60 to 160, they likely did so in an effort to make the text conform to the actual distance, which shows that Luke’s Emmaus was associated with the traditional Emmaus from early on, if not immediately.[6] The closeness between 60 and 160 (rather than, say, 25 and 90) makes it much more plausible that one of these scenarios is true rather than the explanation depending on simple coincidence.

Secondly, a distance of 160 stadia actually makes better sense of the Lukan story than a shorter distance. It makes sense of the disciples comment in verse 29, urging Jesus to stay with them at Emmaus for a meal, “for it is getting toward evening, and the day is now nearly over.” Luke is emphatic that the disciples returned in the evening, (“They got up that very hour and returned to Jerusalem,” v.33), which would have only been mildly notable if they were a two-hour walk from the city, but an entirely fitting (and dangerous) response to a life changing event like a resurrection appearance, forcing them to travel through the night.

Third, the repetition of the name Emmaus at such a close location becomes absurd for sites 1 and 2. By comparison, it is not surprising that there are Deerfields in both Illinois and Wisconsin, but it would be quite bizarre for there to be a second Deerfield located just fifteen miles from the current Illinois Deerfield.

Fourth, 1 Maccabees 4 records one of Judas Maccabaeus’ most decisive victories over the Syrian army. The battle was fought at Emmaus, and there is no debate that this Emmaus is the same as the traditional Emmaus. In fact, the very name of the city would have evoked a feeling of patriotic faith in first century freedom fighters. To make another modern comparison, Emmaus probably evoked a similar reaction to that of a modern American at the mention of Gettysburg. Luke could hardly have told a story about Emmaus without expecting many of his readers to hear an echo of Judas Maccabaeus.[7]

For these reasons, we may identify Luke’s Emmaus with the traditional site of Emmaus with a very high degree of certainty. There are, however, two additional events which were important in the history of Emmaus, and thus for an understanding of the Lukan passage. In the first century B.C., the Roman general Cassius asserted his might in Israel by sacking Emmaus and selling its inhabitants into slavery.[8] Then in 4 B.C., a shepherd named Anthronges from Emmaus led an uprising in the spirit of the Maccabees to retaliate against the Romans. In contrast to the Maccabees, however, Anthronges was defeated and killed, and the Roman proconsul, Varus, had the city burned to the ground.[9] This would explain why Luke could call it a village rather than a city, and would have actually emphasized the fact that Israel had not been able to expel the Romans the way they had done with the Syrians.

Then, in the years leading up to the destruction of Jerusalem, Emmaus was captured by the Roman general, Vespasian, where he stationed the entire Fifth Legion.[10] He later gave land from the city in reward to his veterans.[11] Though this event occurred nearly thirty years after Luke’s narrative, it would have been a recent event for Theophilus and Luke’s initial audience when the book was written.

In this context, the initial disappointment of the disciples takes on a fuller meaning. In Luke 24.21, the disciples explain, “we were hoping that it was he [Jesus] who was going to redeem Israel.” In other words, we had been hoping he would be like Judas Maccabaeus and deliver us, but instead he was executed the same as Anthronges. They had not been anticipating that Jesus would have gotten crucified, and had not even remotely considered that he would be resurrected in three days any more than anyone considered that Anthronges would be resurrected to finish what he had started. Jesus’ response shows that His messiahship must be understood in light of God’s purposes for Israel (and the fulfillment of His promises to Abraham that they would be a blessing to all the peoples of the earth) rather than the story of national military resistance.

[1] Excavations have discovered city walls over two-feet thick. Avi-Yonah, “Emmaus” in The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land (NEAEHL), 386.
[2] BDAG, 580.
[3] Strange, J.F., “Emmaus” in Anchar Bible Dictionary (ABD), 497.
[4] Ibid, 498.
[5] In the Codex Sinaiticus. This variant is also found in Jerome’s quotation of the passage.
[6] It is conceivable that the mistake between Emmaus and the Castellum Emmaus goes back to Luke himself, though this is not a tenable solution for those who hold to a version of Inerrancy as represented in the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy. We must then posit that the change occurred very early in the manuscript tradition. If we hold to inerrancy, it is far easier to take the minority reading as the original based on the weight of the rest of the argument.
[7] Safrai, The Jewish People in the First Century, 86. Even if my argument for the traditional site fails, the name alone would have still induced a powerful comparison.
[8] Josephus, War i.9.
[9] Josephus, Antiquities xvii.10.7-9. This event happened subsequent to Varus’ destruction of Sephoris to the North, whose inhabitants he had sold into slavery. This compelled the residents of Emmaus to desert the city before he got there.
[10] Josephus, War of the Jews iv.8.1. The discovery of Roman Army tombstones from this period confirms Josephus’ account. (Avi-Yonah, 385).
[11] Shürer, et. al., The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, 512.

Historical Context for the Gospels

I am coming back to study the historical context of the New Testament - the first two centuries BCE. Here is a brief summary, using the 25-year grid method. Beginning this period in 200 and ending at the year 1 gives us eight blocks of time. I Maccabees covers block 2-3, while II Maccabees starts in block 1 and ends in block 2.


Block 1 (200-175) - Israel is under Syrian Rule.


Block 2 (175-150) - Leadup to the Maccabean revolt. Antiochus IV Epiphanes takes the throne in 175. He desecrates the Jerusalem temple, leading to the Maccabean revolt, which takes place about half-way through the block (167). Matthias (the first of the Hasmoneans) and his son, Judas lead the movement in turn and are both killed. The clensing of the temple from pagan influence (prompting the feast of dedication, or Hannukkah) occurs in 164. Jonathan, Judas' brother, leads the movement for the last ten years of this block and the first half of the next.


Block 3 (150-125) - The Maccabean struggle. Jonathan is killed, followed by his brother,Simon. I Maccabees ends with John Hyrcanus, Simon's son, becoming high priest (134), which he held through the next block.


Block 4 (125-100) - Hasmonean compromise. Hyrcanus dies and is followed by his son, Aristobulus I, who adds the title 'King' to his position as high priest. He reigns until nearly the end of the block (103). Both Hyrcanus and Aristobulus make concessions to Hellenistic culture which are detested by orthodox jews.


Block 5 (100-75) - Hasmonean Decline. Aristobulus's brother, Alexander Jannaeus, dominates this block, as king from 103-76.


Block 6 (75-50) - Hasmonean End. Alexander Jannaeus' wife takes power during the first half (until 66), followed by civil war between her sons, Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II.


Block 7 (50-25) - Roman influence. Antipater, the first of the Herods, compells the Romans (under Pompey) to depose of the Hasmoneans altogether. He is assassinated early in the block, when his son, Herod I takes control. Herod reigns for the second half of this block (37 onward) until nearly the end of the next block!


Block 8 (25-0*) - Herod's glory. Herod has all sorts of building projects in Judea, repairing the Jerusalem temple, building the port-city of Caesarea, and countless temples, fortresses, and palaces. Herod I reigns until 4 BCE, when his son, Archaelaus briefly has power.


With a bit more work, I could fill out the next three:
Block 9 (0*-25) - Romans in power. A series of governors rule Judea.
Block 10 (25-50) - Romans still in power. Unrest grows.
Block 11 (50-75) - Destruction. Jerusalem razed in the year 70.


I should probably extend through block 14, with the Bar Kockhba revolt. Right now I'm trying to get a grip on blocks 1-8, which is what prompted this series to begin with. I am aware that I oversimplify things, but I think the clarity that I gain outweighs the little bit I lose from oversimplifying. And, of course, these years are totally arbitrary - and yet they seem to work pretty well. Let me know what you think.







*There is no such thing as year 0, since the people who first made the calander didn't get the concept. Technically you have to skip from 1BC to AD1. I noted earlier that the years are guides, not exact dates, so I use numbers that are convenient. Also, I use BC and BCE interchangably, as well as AD and CE. There is little rhyme or reason as to when I use one or the other. I probably should just pick one and stick to it.

My Personal Welsh Revival

I've never even been to Wales, but they have bestowed quite an honor upon me. And here all this time I was worried that I am developing a gut! Silly me.

A Grid for Understanding History, Part II

In my last post I laid out my grid approach for understanding history. Today I am examining the way individuals fit into the grid.


Similarly to my study of world history, this is the problem I have when studying biographies: I have trouble figuring out where the subjects fit in relation to everything else. Now with the grid, I have a place I can quickly 'file them' in my mind. It gets a little tricky, since very few people were born right on one of the grid lines, so what I do is get a rough approximation of where they fit. Here is how it works:


Segment the person's life into 25-year segments, beginning at their birth. Next figure out approximately how far off the 25-year marks from world history the person is (that is, the 0, 25, 50, and 75 year dividers in world history). For instance, Martin Luther was born in 1483, so he is about one third off from the 1475-1500 block.


Generally, every person gets three 25-year blocks if they live a full life. During the first block there are very few individuals that ever do anything important. You are just learning about the world. But it is important to pay attention to this block of time in a person's life because whatever is happening in world history is going to be formative. During this block, people may be willing to change the world, but generally are not able yet.

You can safely assume that each individual has indirect access to three blocks of time before they were born. That is, even if the subject did not personally experience those blocks, he or she will know people who did - typically parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents.

When people drastically change the world, it is generally during the second block of their lives(25-50 years old). By this block, people have acquired enough knowledge and experience to have a real impact, but generally have no deep commitments to the received wisdom of the past generation. People in this period are still willing to change the world, but now have acquired the ability.

Taking Martin Luther as an example again, he nailed his theses to the door in 1517. Because he is about a third off of the historical blocks, his second block starts about a third after 1500, or about 1508. It is the middle of his second block that he departs from the conventional wisdom of his time, becoming the catalyst for the Protestant Reformation. For Luther, it is his second block of time that is most important.


It is the third block, from 50-75 years, that people generally do their best work. They have already taken their stands on whatever issues they have chosen to tackle. These are the years when people are best able to really flesh out positions taken earlier in life. It is not so much that people in this block no longer wish to change the world, but they have already taken a stand on how to change it. Usually the people we are interested in studying are the kinds of people who overturned the prevailing orthodoxy, but once that is done, their own positions have become the new orthodoxy and need working out. People in this block of life are generally the most effective in whatever they have decided to do because they have so much knowledge and experience to bring to bear on it. Keeping with our example, Martin Luther died only a few years into his third block.


Occasionally people like Billy Graham get a fourth block. This used to be pretty rare but with modern medicine is becoming a lot more common. I call this the bonus round. It's usually harder to do things during this block, but it's like you get double points for everything you do.


I think this system helps give a quick-and-dirty view of a person's life. By comparing the person to the grid, you can often guess about when the person's major life events occurred. Nine times out of ten the grid's predictions will be spot-on. The remaining 10% of the time are worth taking note of, because there is probably a detail that accounts for it that is worth noting.

Let's look at a few more examples:
Karl Barth (1886-1968) - He is almost half way off the 1875 grid line.

1. 1st block (approx. 1886-1915)
2. 2nd block (approx. 1915-1940) - Romans commentary written 1922 (about a third of the way into his second block), the bomb in the playground of liberal theology; Barmen declaration written 1934 against Nazism.
3. 3rd block (approx. 1940-1965) - Church Dogmatics, begun in 1932, but mostly written during this block of time, representing Barth's later theology and moving away from the dialectical theology of the 2nd block. Many of his most important lectures are delivered at the end of this block, 1962-1965.
4. Bonus (1965-1968)

Paul (10-65, though much of this is guesswork) - This puts him just over a third off the Year 1 grid line.

1. 1st block (10-35) - Paul is converted near the end of this period, about the year 33.
2. 2nd block (35-60) - The first third of this block is spent in Cilicia and Syria; the second two-thirds are his missionary journeys.
3. 3rd block (60-65) - Paul in Rome. We have very little information about Paul's activity during this time. Tradition says he was beheaded in Rome.

Alexander the Great (356-323 BCE) - He's just a few years behind the 350 grid line, so we'll line his up at about five years off.

1. 1st block (356-330) - One of the very few individuals in history to make an impact during his first block, which makes him noteworthy. He takes over Macedonia after his father's assassination in 335. Even so, he contributes militarily rather than intellectually, which partially explains this deviation.
2. 2nd block (330-323) - Alexander dies early, having conquered the known world.

In my next post, I will look at a specific time period, the period that has grabbed my interest currently: Israel under the Maccabees and the time leading up to the New Testament gospels.

A Grid for Understanding History, Part I

I just cannot fathom how high school teachers can make history seem so boring. Okay, I'm pretty sure Wisconsin history is pretty dull. But everything else is usually fascinating. World history is pretty much littered with wars, intrigue, and assassinations - the stuff good novels are made of. But most of what I got was "social studies," where we spent our time learning the main export of each country. Oh yeah, that will really hook kids on learning about history.


So I never figured out that history was cool until college. Even then I only took two history classes. My first was Byzantine history, which was a smart choice since it covers over 1000 years, guaranteeing that I would become hopelessly lost in the details and mixing up people who were separated by, say, 200 years or more. The problem is that I had no framework for grasping a span of history that large, a problem I discussed yesterday.


I have encountered the same problem several times since then, whether church history classes, personal studying, or teaching homeschool. History is so vast that it's hard to keep everything straight.


I have developed a solution that I have gradually developing since my American church history class a couple years ago. It has seemed to work pretty well for me so far. My idea was to break up history into 25-year blocks. The 1900s, for instance, would be broken up into four blocks: 1900-1925; 1925-1950; 1950-1975; 1975-2000. I am intentionally repeating numbers rather than using, say, 1926-1950. That is because I am not intending to separate events into hard-and-fast categories. I am just trying to get a feel for what fits where, using 1925 as a general reference point.


There are a number of advantages to this kind of system. First, it makes it easier to understand the relation between different events in the grid. Have you ever copied a line drawing by superimposing a grid over the original drawing and then doing your copy over a similar grid? You'll be amazed how well you can copy a drawing, even if you are a poor artist. Imposing a grid helps you to recognize proportions and spacial relations. When studying history, a grid helps recognize temporal relations. So even if twenty-five year blocks are totally arbitrary, they still work well for creating mental storage compartments for various historical facts.


Second, my system gives us perspective. Perhaps my illustrations yesterday of 6000 babies or six chairs were not helpful to you. (Some people didn't catch the joke.) They are not helpful because we have no real frame of reference for understanding 6000 1-year-periods or 6 1000-year-periods. But we can easily understand a 25-year-period since it fits within most of our lifetimes.

6000 years are composed of 240 blocks. 240 is still a lot, but at least it's manageable. And we really don't have that much information on the first 2000 years, so you can lop off about 80 blocks by just getting down a few basic facts. But more importantly, we are not usually focusing on the entire 240 blocks. Our topic will usually just take a portion, like Roman history, or the expansion of Islam, or American history. Each one is only going to cover 10 to 20 blocks. That is very accessible. In addition, we can gain a concept of how long a particular period is in relation to the whole. The US has been a nation for just over 10 blocks, for instance, which is pretty short compared to 240, but yet not so small as to be insignificant. I have found this perspective indispensibly helpful.


Third, twenty-five years is about the right amount of time to have its own story. You tend to get a lot of the same key actors in each block. Much smaller and you miss important parts of the story; much bigger and you start incorporating another story. Occasionally stories will 'spill over' into the next grid section. When a particular story, like a king's reign, is spread pretty equally over two blocks, that is also fairly easy to remember by thinking of it stretching between the two blocks, like part A and part B.


In my next post I will further develop the grid method in reference to individuals. If you haven't bought into it yet, stick with me. There are more reasons why I think the grid system works.

Americans and World History

Since I'm an American, the perspective my public school education gave me was that anything outside of my lifetime is old; anything that happened before the 1920s or so is ancient history; history more-or-less started in 1492, but it didn't really get going until the 1600s when people began to colonize the east coast of America, and that was all just a lead-up to the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

We Americans have such a limited perspective. I recently reviewed the Chrononauts card game (Looney Labs) for Knucklebones magazine in an article about using games for homeschooling (which is currently slated for the July issue of 2008). It is a fabulous game where you become a time traveler who changes parts of history and then watch the ripple effects later in the timeline. From an educational standpoint, the game is awesome. Well, awesome for learning American history from about 1900 on. I found myself thinking, if I had a time machine, I would want to see Rome, visit Ancient Babylonia, watch the building of the pyramids, meet Charlemagne, and listen to the Sermon on the Mount. Why do we somehow think that history means the past four generations of American history?

Looneys, if you happen to read this, I didn't mention any of this in my article, since a gaming magazine is not really the place for me to take up my own personal rant. I had only great things to say about your game. I can't wait to play Andy's hippy game in the new Stonehenge expansion. It sounds very interesting. But I digress.

Here's the problem as I see it:
(1) Americans (myself included) have a hard time getting our minds around the history of our own country, which is just over 250 years old.
(2) Recorded history goes back over 6000 years.

6000 years is a long time! Have you ever tried to think about it? Just to help you grasp the immensity of it, let me illustrate for you. My youngest daughter is just over a year old. If you took her exactly on her first birthday, you would have one year's worth of child. So that helps you get a feel for how long a year is. Now, if you want to understand how long 6000 years is, you would have to line up 6000 children on their first birthdays and add them all together. Simply mind boggling, isn't it?

Or how about this: if your kitchen chair represented 1000 years of history, it would take an unbelievable SIX CHAIRS to represent world history! That's enough chairs to fit around your dining room table.

That's why you come to this blog, isn't it. Perspective. Tomorrow I will share more profound insights for understanding over 6000 years of recorded history. It's all in service to you, dear reader.

The God of Christians and Muslims

I do not know why I keep circling back to the question of whether Christians and Muslims worship different gods. Here is a video clip from Ergun Caner arguing for the opposing view, that we have different gods.



My question is simply this: why do we have to have our theology right in order for us to be worshipping the same god? It is easier to differentiate between Islam and Christianity. What about Roman Catholics and Protestant Evangelicals? Do we worship the same god? How about classical theists and open theists? Same god? Calvinists and Arminians? Same god? Fundamentalists and Evangelicals? Where exactly do we draw the line?

I cannot see any way around this logic:
A. Every one of us has erroneous theology to one extent or another.
B. If erroneous theology necessarily leads to false worship, then we all worship falsely.
C. At least some people do not worship falsely.
Therefore:
D. Erroneous theology does not necessarily lead to false worship.

N.T. Wright Wrecked My Life

Once upon a time the Christian faith made sense to me. There were some things that I did not understand or some things that did not seem to fit perfectly, but overall the whole thing worked pretty well. Then I started reading N.T. Wright and my whole world crashed down around me.

See, I read somewhere that you ought to pick one author and read as much of their writing as you can so that you can interact in depth with their thought. This was well before I started seminary, back when I did not care a whit about scholarship. I decided to read Wright after first encountering him in a "Life of Jesus" class at church. We had read through the little book The Life of Jesus, and even though it was not that impressive I felt Wright had more under the surface than I had been able to garner from this little volume. He seemed to be a highly regarded Jesus scholar, so I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

So I went to the library at our local Catholic college where I found and checked out his two massive works, The New Testament and the People of God and Jesus and the Victory of God. I also picked up The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions, in which he and co-author, Marcus Borg, defend and critique one another's historical reconstructions of Jesus. I began with The Meaning of Jesus, since it seemed the most accessible of the three, and I started to get hooked. But it was when I moved on to The New Testament and the People of God that everything I believed was shaken.

The problem is that it was not a frontal assault. In fact, I stood behind N.T. Wright as we took the liberal onslaught from Borg in The Meaning of Jesus. But as Wright prepared to deliver an uppercut of historical scholarship to Borg, I moved in to see things more closely and got elbowed in the face. I have spent the past decade trying to recover from that injury.

What is this great injury? Simply this: to understand the New Testament, we must read it in light of the world of first century Judaism, which is a lot more alien to us in the twentieth century than we like to think. It is especially rooted in the apocalyptic genre, especially in Daniel. Specifically, Daniel 7 is a particularly important passage for understanding early Christianity and the message of Jesus: the Son of Man is enthroned beside the Ancient of Days as the Kingdom of God is ushered in.

The book of Daniel represents in a microcosm the locus of most of my theological problems. Was it really written by Daniel or was it actually written centuries later during the Maccabean period? Scholars can make a good case for the latter, which even Wright accepts. Why should we even accept Daniel as scripture? It is not enough to say that we accept it because Jesus accepted it, since this whole examination of Daniel was prompted because it is the linchpin which holds together the New Testament. The book of Daniel (and the Old Testament as a whole) provides the entire foundation for the New Testament. As I see it, if Daniel falls, so does the New Testament.

The book of Daniel presents the primary OT basis for belief in an end-time resurrection of the dead. If it was written just to encourage the faithful that were being martyred by the Hellenistic king Antiochus Epiphanies, then what reason do we have to believe it? Would we not have warrant to judge that it was just wishful thinking? ...that as the Jews looked around at the injustices against their people, they speculated that there must be a resurrection to put things right? Wright himself proposes that this sort of eschatology (God will one day make all things right) arises from the combination of the doctrine of monotheism (God is in control), election (He has chosen Israel), and reality (Israel is suffering). Am I to believe in the resurrection of the dead because there was a pogrom against the Jews over two millennia ago? Please forgive me if this is a bit of a stumbling block in my faith.

Finally, even if I can get past all of this, the message of Daniel looks very different from the gospel I received. The gospel I know says you can be forgiven for your sins if you trust in Jesus, but if you do not, you will be damned for eternity. The message of Daniel is much more intuitive: that even when the bad guys seem to get away with it in this life, they will not in the end; and even if the good guys seem to get screwed in this life, they will ultimately be vindicated. It is a much more 'pluralist-friendly' message than orthodox theology seems to allow.

N.T. Wright does a fine job of making the New Testament seem historically plausible, but only at the expense of making its message seem utterly implausible.

O Dr. Wright, why tormentest thou me?

Book Review - Gracism: the Art of Inclusion

I just finished the book Gracism by David A. Anderson, pastor of Bridgeway Community Church and a former staff member at Willow Creek. I would probably never have read it, but I forgot to cancel my selection of the month with IVP book club, so it showed up on my doorstep. I thought it was another book on the doctrine of grace, which, quite honestly, I have no real desire to read. What I didn't catch was the play on words, combining grace and racism.


I grew up in a small Wisconsin town where I was a racial minority because I was a non-Norwegian Caucasian. It was not until I started meeting people of other races, specifically African Americans, that I began to become prejudiced. The reason? I feel like the race card is perpetually played against me. I have come to believe that if I ever act negatively towards someone that happens to be African American, I will be accused of being racist. I hate that. I mean I really hate that.

Anderson helped me understand aspects of race relations that I never understood before. Here is how he begins his book:

Maybe you have heard of the social experiment in which ten people were to interview at a company. Before they went to the office for the interview, a red dot was painted on one cheek of each interviewee. Each interviewee was to go into the office and sit across the desk from the interviewer. After each interview, the interviewee was debriefed. Each of the ten interviewees stated that the interviewer kept staring at the dot on his or her cheek.
Here's the kicker: Out of the ten who received a painted dot, five - unbeknownst to them - were actually given a clear dot that was not visible on their skin. Yet they still felt as if the interviewer was focusing on their dot. From this experiment we learn that people feel self-conscious about whatever makes them insecure.

This illustration helps me understand race issues in a new way. It helps me understand why some people perceive me to be racist even when I'm really not. It helps me recognize that the real problem is not one of "reverse racism", but rather perception that many black folks have that race is a liability for them, a red dot, if you will.

Anderson's solution for race problems is in recognizing the God's preferential treatment for the underprivileged. The privileged often discriminate against the underprivileged, and in reference to race, this becomes racism. Anderson suggests that privileged Christians (and this will include almost all of us in at least one circumstance) must discriminate towards the underprivileged by extending extra grace. He defines gracism as "the positive extension of favor on other humans based on color, class or culture." I think he is right on to suggest gracism as a big part of the solution to race problems.

Following 1 Corinthians 12, which Anderson makes a compelling case for reading in terms of racial tensions, he suggests we adopt seven sayings towards racial others:

1. "I will lift you up" - giving special honor to minorities.
2. "I will cover you" - helping minorities save face in dishonoring situations.
3. "I will share with you" - refusing to accept special treatment simply because we are not in the minority.
4. "I will honor you" - giving greater honor to minorities.
5. "I will stand with you" - rejecting divisions based on race.
6. "I will consider you" - showing equal concern for those who are different.
7. "I will celebrate with you" - rejoicing with those who are different.

Though I think Anderson has a great message, the book has the feel of a twenty minute message expanded into a 160-page book. I'm still not entirely sure what the difference between the first and fourth sayings. And some of the illustrations seem forced, like the story of his friend Rick, whose flight together with Anderson was delayed, and who chose to fly economy with him instead of wait for a later flight where he could have flown first-class. This is supposedly an example of saying three, refusing to accept preferential treatment. I thought it was an example of someone taking the quicker flight.

Nevertheless, at only 160 pages, it is a quick read and well worth it. It makes me want to consider ways I can be a gracist in my day-to-day life.

The Orgin of Species

Chris Tilling is stirring up trouble again. This time he is ranting about why he rejects creationism in favor of evolution. Like Chris, I too get highly irritated when the issue comes up, but mostly because it seems like everybody on every side of the issue is simply talking past one another. I offer my thoughts on why I think just about everybody is wrong.


1. The origin of species is not properly an object of scientific study.
The number one argument against the Intelligent Design movement is that it is not scientific. The conclusion of Science and Creationism: A View from the National Academy of Sciences states, "Creationism, intelligent design, and other claims of supernatural intervention in the origin of life or of species are not science because they are not testable by the methods of science." ID makes no predictions, as opposed to Darwinism, which predicts that the principle of survival of the fittest will continue the process of evolution. ID is ruled out a priori. The only thing that tells me is that the subject matter of ID is more like history than science. It is most properly philosophical, an area that most scientists that make bold pronouncements rarely have any training in.


2. The origin of species is an emotional topic.
Science (with a capitol S) is our culture's mythology, providing many with their understanding of who they are and where they have come from. I am absolutely amazed that people on either side of the issue simply cannot understand why those on the other side might become emotional over the issue. The subject matter strikes at the very core of our identity. There is no place for ad hominem attacks or caricatures of those we disagree with. Those who resort to name-calling only reveal their own insecurities. Please be gracious towards those you disagree with, and consider what might be at stake for them in the conversation.


3. One's position on the origin of species must be falsifiable.
Anyone can continue to hold their position by explaining away contrary evidence. To be significant, however, you must be able to say, "My theory predicts x, and if we ever encounter not-x, then my theory will be disproven." Evolutionists often accuse proponents of ID of not being falsifiable. Michael Behe's principle of irreducible complexity is sometimes called a "God in the gaps" theory, which reduces to saying, "If we cannot explain it, it must be God." Perhaps it is, but it is at least falsifiable. If someone can develop a naturalistic explanation for the various instances of irreducible complexity, then it will have been falsified. Evolutionists, on the other hand, have an equal commitment to "Nature in the gaps". Supposing there really is a creator, what evidence could there ever be that would falsify naturalism? Finally, for those who believe the earth was created in six literal days I also want to ask, if you were wrong, what evidence could possibly be produced that you would accept? Young Earth Creationists are notorious for selectively reading the data. It seems to me that whatever evidence there could be to disprove a Young Earth perspective has already been produced.


4. Simple answers about Genesis are inadequate.
Chris Heard argued last November that we should reject creationism on exegetical grounds: Genesis 1 is poetry, not history; it conflicts with other biblical creations accounts like Genesis 2 and Psalm 74; it reflects near-Eastern and Egyptian creations stories and cosmology expect for the fact the YHWH is the central character; and the species in Gen 1 are not fashioned by God but instead come forth from the earth. I grant that Gen 1 is poetic and bears close resemblance to the surrounding cultures, but these are not enough to lead us to a non-literal interpretation of the passage. For ancient Hebrews, it is clear that Gen 1 held a lot more meaning than just a six-day creation, but I cannot imagine that it meant less. (For similar reasons, it seems self-evident that they would have read the word 'day' as referring to 24-hour-periods instead of indeterminate periods of time.) As far as conflicts with other passages, systematic theologians have developed strategies for dealing with them, but these strategies are not properly the domain of the exegete, who must approach each text independently before attempting to harmonize.


But a literalistic interpretation seems equally simplistic for theology for reasons I mentioned in point 3. I am at a loss to know what to do with Genesis 1. That God creates indirectly rather than directly seems to support a theistic evolutionary position, except for the framework of six days. The most surprising fact is that, while all the Christians are struggling with what to do with this passage, atheist-turned-theist philosopher, Antony Flew, considers this passage in Genesis to have the best claim to be special revelation of any text in existence. Go figure.

Settlers of Catan: The New Table Fellowship?

In an age of microwave burrios and drive-thru fast food (both of which I like entirely too much) we have lost in important aspect of community: table fellowship. Something about eating together draws us into closer relationship with one another. How can we restore that kind of fellowship? I suggest we consider turning to gaming.

Last Friday I picked up a copy of the game Settlers of Catan. For those who are not familiar with the game, it is often considered a "gateway game" into strategy-based Eurogames, often known as "designer games". Apparently I have been quite out of the loop. Last February when I returned to school after winter break, someone in my formation group mentioned that he spent most of the break playing Settlers. Nearly half the group of about a dozen of us said they had played the game. I felt hopelessly behind.

But praise God, as of Friday last week, the word "behind" no longer applies to me (at leat in reference to Settlers). Since purchacing the game, I have played at least one game every single day, mostly with my wife and our friends, Brian and Kathy. The fact that it appeals to both Brian and me, who tend to like these kinds of games, and also to our wives, who do not usually like these kinds of games, speaks volumes about why it is so popular. In fact the women have been the ones most likely to suggest getting together to play each night. One thing that makes it particularly fun is that players are not eliminated one-by-one from the game but stay in the game until one person wins.

If you have never played, you really ought to check it out. But be warned - it is addicting. Diana and I have decided that we will exercise the Christian virtue of self-control by taking a night off from playing in order to get some sleep.

Church Services: Who Are They For?

Who church is for is an important question for anyone in church leadership. The question is particularly important for those of us in low-church traditions, where we just sort of "have church," and the entire flow of the meeting depends on the pastor and worship leader. But I think the question is also important in liturgical churches. Should we follow the seeker-sensitive model, where church meetings be geared towards unbelievers? In this model, the entire service culminates with the preaching of an evangelistic message. Or should we follow a discipleship model of church, where church meetings are geared towards believers and evangelism accomplished through other avenues?

Having pondered this question for several years, I have come to the conclusion that church services ought to be worship services. Church is neither for unbelievers nor for believers but for God. And if church is primarily for God, then we have no right to whine when church meetings do not go the way we might have wanted or when the preaching does not seem to meet our needs. After all, it is not about us, but about God.

But that leads to another problem: if church is for God, why preach? In fact, the old Roman Catholic masses were pretty much like this until the reformation. There was no preaching, masses were spoken to God in Latin, and Priests faced the altar rather than the congregation. In our sevices, it is tempting for the preacher to put himself implicitly in the place of God, speaking for Him to His people. Though there is a place for prophetic ministry, it becomes dangerous when the pastor places himself week after week on God's side rather than on the congregation's side. I do not intend this as a judgment on preachers, but rather an observation arising from years of personal preaching experience where I found myself asking, "How can I best tell the people what they need to hear?'

I am not suggesting that we remove preaching from our worship services. It was not just the Protestant churches that changed after the reformation, but Roman Catholic churches changed also as a result of the Counter Reformation. Preaching really should be a part of our worship services, but it is hard to know what role to assign to preaching if we decide that our church meetings are for God.

The answer, I believe, is found in a covenantal approach to scripture, as I outlined a couple days ago. If the Bible is our covenant document with God, then we honor God by remembering and reflecting on our covenant with Him. Preaching that flows from the Biblical text, becoming a meditation on it or providing insight into the text, is a normal response of worship when the people of God meet with their covenant Lord. The preacher's purpose, then, is not to minister to the congregation, but to facilitate ways for the congregation to respond appropriately to the scriptures.

For the people of God, we expect to encounter our covenant Lord when we gather together. When we worship Him in spirit and truth, we can rightly expect that He will show up, and I think we can expect that He desires to speak to His covenant people. But hearing Him speak is not the purpose of our church meetings - ministering to God is.

Observations on the Doctrine of Scripture

Yesterday I (finally) laid out a covenantal understanding of the doctrine of scripture. Today I want to make a few observations that I think are entailed by the way I have approached things:

First, there is no need to jettison the term inerrancy. If God is inerrant, and the Bible is His covenant with us, it makes sense to view the Bible as inerrant also. It is important to define exactly what an error is. We do not hold the scriptures to a higher standard than they set for themselves. (See also my inerrancy post from a few months ago.)

Second, we should expect the Bible to give us information relating to the covenant and our response to the covenant. We should not expect the Bible to be giving us scientific information. If one can demonstrate that the purpose of a passage is to give scientific information, then a belief in inerrancy compels us to assume the passage is scientifically accurate. BUT given the covenantal purpose of the scriptures, I am doubtful that any passage does intend to convey scientific information.

Third, nothing about a covenantal view of scripture limits God’s self-revelation exclusively to the Bible. Even if we have been able to identify the way God has been dealing with us, we are given no authority to conclude how He has (or has not) been interacting with other peoples on the globe. Therefore we have no justification, for instance, for pronouncing all non-Christian religious traditions to be evil. Terrance L. Tiessen proposes that “formalized religions are ambiguous responses to divine revelation, and so are the religious commitments of individual members of those religions.” (Who Can Be Saved: Reassessing Salvation in Christ and World Religions, 2004, p.358)

Fourth, our covenant with God is not logically necessary but rather historically contingent. That is to say, the covenant we have with God might have been entirely different than the one we have now, based entirely on the way different individuals in our now-distant past chose to respond to God. This might be self-evident were it not for popular gospel presentations like “The Four Spiritual Laws” which present the gospel as a set of timeless truths. The gospel is not like Buddhism's Four Noble Truths, which apply equally to all humans at all times, having always existed and were waiting only to be discovered by Buddha. Instead, the gospel is a call to accept that God has given Jesus, the real-flesh-and-blood-historical Jesus, authority to become the Lord of Heaven and Earth. There is no need to cross Lessing’s “ugly ditch” between the accidental truths of history and the necessary truths of history, for the gospel is firmly rooted on the side of history.