Happy Windsday, Eyeore

Fall, and its wonderful wind, are very much with me.

Work has been very busy. Getting ready for winter in the mountains also takes lots of work (which I put off over the summer) and I haven't had time to write at all. I read my post below again, and feel like it will take me some time to get to What We Are 2.0 (though who knows; it was fun to write). One thing I believe is that I need an actual NT education. My conclusion to that essay is lacking without one. N.T. Wright is only one voice, and a very distinctive voice at that. I want to read Meier and L.T. Johnson; also the more skeptical critics like Crossan. Not to mention those with large historical value, like Wrede. I can't yet offer a scholar's assessment of the NT, only a personal one.

But right now I don't have time even for that. Hopefully soon, though. As I said, I enjoy the work. If I were in grad school now I already know the two papers I'd like to write: one would be an examination of Wright's position on apocalyptic language in the synoptics; the other would be an examination of tradition transmission during the NT period. I know work has been done in both of these areas, and I would love to read it and write about it.

So far, second year EFM is slow to get off the ground. I have found two other interesting sources for NT work, however.

Luke Timothy Johnson did a 'Great Teaching Series' recording of his intro to the NT course. I've heard the first six CD's, and he is quite engaging. Non-dogmatic, even secular, but rich in his literary analysis and generally fair. Also, I orderd the Carson and Moo Intro to the NT. This book is a time warp for me. It was recommended by my brother's Christian-academic friend, and while it is deeply traditional (conventional authorship is upheld for every gospel, even Matthew and John) the authors are making fair points, even if their views are in the minority at the present. The book is more conservative than anything I've read, or even thought, for years. But surely every view should be assessed; presuppositional bigotry against conservative scholars is no better than dismissive bigotry against the liberal ones. I am embarrassed, and have embarrassed myself in this way, when a Christian blasts a book or theory because of its author's religious views without evaluating the idea closely, alongside all the other evidence. NT scholarship, like all other forms, embraces and abandons its trends.

On a slightly side note, I'm pleased to note Jesus' own love for dinner parties and his desire to eat with all. Most scholars agree on this, at least. "The Son of Man came eating and drinking"...my kind of environment. I still have to learn how to embed youtube files here, but I am heartened by the Dropkick Murphy's rendition of "Amazing Grace" on the youtube website. They may be off key, but Jesus has been accused of drinking with guys like this before. It is good for me to remember this. One thing that drove me from the church a dozen years ago was white-glove Christianity. I admired the twelve-step model so much ("I'm Dave, I'm an alcoholic"), and wondered why, when my ex and I shook hands with the ushers coming into the sanctuary at my big-box church, I couldn't say, "Morning, I'm Troy; my marriage is falling apart and we haven't had sex for three months, can we pray about this with you?" I could have found that prayer at that church in other ways, and perhaps did, but there was always this no-grit squeak about Sunday services. Church is not about exterior polish, being good or looking good; it's about crawling (or dancing, or skipping, or if need by crying) into the community of God to eat and drink with Christ once again. We do it because we need it. We always have.

The Christian church, to feed its members, must embrace emotional reality and the technology of recovery; it is love in a practical deeply needed language. It must also embrace theological mystery and tolerate diverse points of view. It must also embrace mercy as a paradigm. This must begin with those who provide example in the churches, the teachers and leaders. If I can't be real about my pain and frustrations, about the reality of life's emotional struggles that we all bake and broil in, I do those below me true harm.

In my own parish (for, as they say...point a finger, three point back right atcha) the tone, the culture, is deeply entrenched. And it's old culture. Old building, old people (mostly), old oak-foothills...old culture. Much of this is good. They help each other when they need it, and I still am absorbing that praxis. They are graceful in many ways and more open-minded, by far, than my old big-box community. Though I haven't had a chance to speak or teach in any context, when and if I do, I hope, with careful precision, I am able to be slightly transparent. Even that would shake and shock. Done right, it might also move and heal.

Of course, all we do must be informed by love, or truly, it is the clanging cymbal.

But I am ahead of myself. My autobiography in EFM should be raw enough next week, and I need to focus on that. EFM, of course, is a closed and trusted group of people I've known for some time.

Teachers, I note again, just can't stay off the soapbox.

Love to all.

Comments

Sandalstraps said…
But surely every view should be assessed; presuppositional bigotry against conservative scholars is no better than dismissive bigotry against the liberal ones.

I've been guilty of both, and heartily agree with you.

On a slightly side note, I'm pleased to note Jesus' own love for dinner parties and his desire to eat with all.

What we now call the Eucharist or Holy Communion began not as a piece of bread or a wafer with a sip of wine or juice - a Methodist invented unferminted grape juice so that alcoholics could take communion without feeling either guilt or temptation - but as a communal meal. Yet, too often, we forget that such fellowship truly is a sacrament, a sacralyzing of the secular. And, at Jesus' table, all are welcome but the self-righteous.

I admired the twelve-step model so much ("I'm Dave, I'm an alcoholic"), and wondered why, when my ex and I shook hands with the ushers coming into the sanctuary at my big-box church, I couldn't say, "Morning, I'm Troy; my marriage is falling apart and we haven't had sex for three months, can we pray about this with you?"

I feel you. Even I put up a veneer. I don't know why we wish to gloss over our problems instead of sharing them with a community that can help bare the weight of our load. I suppose it has to do with wanting to be seen as better than we are. But such pride stands in the way of the grace which will make our situation better rather than merely shinier.
Tenax said…
Chris,

it's beautiful to hear from you my brother. As always, your own blog and your thoughts here are cause for serious thought.

t
Anonymous said…
You are so right about churches; this little church filled with people in their eighties has touched me and reached me more in a month than the big church with all the right programs and all the right music has. They live the service, and the love draws you in, but when the pastor tells you he bounced a check that week and people pray about their grandkids needing counseling in a group setting - I know I am in a place of people being real and I can re-learn to love the hymns . And have faith that when I share my ugly stuff, I won't shock them - or if I do - they will love me through it because they believe that is what you do in church.
Tenax said…
A,

your comments are deeply appreciated; I felt my post was preachy and was going to tone it down. Certainly I've been as guilty as anyone of being insensitive in my rabid Christianity days. And the only thing that drove me to recovery was that, as they say in program, my ass fell off. I mean off. Otherwise, I might still be what I was.

Best to you. And thanks again for the fish and chips tip. Have yet to go, but it's on my list.

I hope Ben is home more.

t

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