Notes on Historical Theology Class Sessions

September 5

On the Book Orientation. This is certainly the prevailing model of theological understanding in the conservative Christian church. And it is certainly problematic for many, such that Abby said it "bothers" her. We are in a period of transition, so it seems, in the way that we think. Could it be that the great force of the Enlightenment is truly winding down? Signs of the demise are everywhere. (However, in some ways I say I'll believe it when I see it). I like what Thomas Oden says about "Post-modernism." He says that what is commonly considered post-modernism really is merely hyper-modernism. What we are seeing, he says, is a response and frustration to the power of modernism rather than a new set of ideals that is truly new or beyond modernism.

In our present age we are fortunate enough to witness a transition, and we can see the signs of change around us. Many Christians still believe in the legitimacy of the Enlightenment model. There are books like "Know Why You Believe" which calls itself a "clear affirmation of the reasonableness of Christianity" and will attempt to prove logically that God exists and that Christ rose from the tomb. And such books are popular and well-regarded by the probably the majority of lay people. On the other hand, many Christians feel frustrated by the Enlightenment model in conservative Christianity. It bothers them to focus on the mind. Both sides are motivated out of beautiful, sincere faith.

The Enlightenment folks really believe that this apologetics will lead people to faith and that the convincing of the mind can bring one to truth. Those post-modern or hyper-modern people are greatly distrustful of the mind--that I think is the foundational issue. They see so much competing for their mind--science, philosophy, economics--and nothing that can take hold of it. The eclecticism of culture means that for each idea, we are aware of a competing idea which tramples the first. The mind is a battlefield which is constantly being claimed by opposing forces. Rather than the old model of ideas as a building--with a foundation, a plan, and an order--today many people see the mind and ideas as a stream--liquid, changing, unpredictable. You never step in the same stream twice. So, Christians with faith do not see their faith as based on something so fragile as the mind, but something deeper. That something deeper is yet to be fully described. Many say it is experience, subjectivity, and while there is some validity to that, it is an incomplete expression. It will suffice for now. Someone will come up with a term and description for it, and those post-modern people will know it when they see it.

On the Event Orientation. For some, this description may be the event orientation. However, I personally think it's too ecclesial to be the post-modern approach to truth (not that it's even trying to be that). I think this for two reasons. The first is totally personal: when the orientation was presented in class it seemed odd and not necessarily attractive to me. After the book orientation, I was looking forward the event orientation, thinking that it would offer a paradigm to reject all that I dislike about the book orientation. But, it didn't hit me. It didn't ring true with me. The other reason is the emphasis on community. I know that a feature of hyper-modernism is frustration with individualism and that post-modernism is more communal, but I wonder if such a communal and liturgical model is probable. Individualism is so ingrained in American conservative urban (and suburban) culture, and often when people join communities they are doing just that--personally choosing to join a community. It's still an individual decision and there is always the possibility of choosing to leave again. True community seems a long way off.

It may well be that the event orientation is an excellent description--perhaps it is way ahead of its time. Perhaps I am way behind. Regardless of its use in seeking truth in this modern age, it is certainly an appropriate model for historical theology (particularly of early historical theology). As a Biblical Theology major, I am a bit skeptical of it as model for all theology. Pre-set alarms go off when a theological paradigm lacks the word "Bible" and includes the word "experience." Of course these alarms can be overlooked. The event orientation would be strange model for doing a biblical theology, but it makes sense for historical.

A final thought on the class discussion. Regarding Webber's criticism of the model of worship that is thirty minutes of singing and thirty minutes of preaching--what are we to do when that is the only worship experience (liturgical epistemology) of the faithful? It is easy to academically show the superiority of liturgical worship and those so enlightened as to appreciate it. But what of those who only know singing and preaching? Are they included in the Church? More importantly, are they valuable? Just as they are? Or must they be changed? My experience with those who have left non-liturgical churches in favor of the Orthodox church has been that they have an air of elitism about them--that they have a higher and superior knowledge. And that only they know the secrets of true spirituality. It's almost Gnostic. I do not say this with spite or condemnation. I say this with pain--for my own mother is such a person. But I believe that God values the simple as well. Simple people. Simple faith. Simple buildings. Simple songs. Simple worship. Of course he does. Otherwise, how could we ever be so complex for him?

September 10

On Cultures' Worldview. The discussion of worldviews was interesting. I think that recent scholarship has increasingly recognized the holistic worldview of the biblical times, and the vast implications of that. The idea of Greek worldview as aesthetic is rather new. It makes sense in a worship sort of way, I suppose. Personally, when I think of the Greek worldview, I think much more of the philosophy, with its dualism and its distaste for the material. The portrayal of Roman worldview as legal is something I'd never thought about. I guess it makes sense, though it certainly puts Catholicism in a bad light, considering how many people (especially dance-less, drink-less Wheaton students) hate the very word "legalism." It is true, however, that fundamentalism is equally legalistic. I've noticed that before, that in some ways ultra-conservative Baptists are very similar to Catholics. Don't tell anyone I said that : )

The timeline aroused my dissatisfaction with the influence of pagan philosophy on the early church. I never distrusted the church fathers. I always valued the creeds and the words of those more holy than me. I thought of their words as authoritative in my life, and I supported them as authoritative in some churches. I disliked churches that claimed to be "non-creedal." I always capitalized "Church Fathers." But, reading this History of Christian Thought, I have been overwhelmed by the platonic presuppositions which drove the early fathers. Perhaps it is Gonzales' angle, but it has been significant. I always trusted in the sovereignty of God to oversee the formation of the creeds. I still do trust God's sovereignty, but some of this gets ridiculous. The early church fathers seem more influenced by Plato than Jesus Christ. There seem so few references to Scripture and so many to assumptions about the transcendence of the Divine. Is Jesus the demiurge? What kind of question is that?

I feel like a Christian in an African church which was formed by American missionaries. The faith that I have inherited is wrapped in culture, so much so that it is difficult to cut through it. I know there's truth in there, but the cultural baggage is so great that I'm tempted to toss the whole thing. If the work of the early churches is a result of a specific culture and is bound to that culture's presuppositions, how can it matter to today?

That is one of the great problems I see with the Orthodox Church. There are a great many things I respect about it, but I think there is a basic error in the way they think of culture. One error is in claiming to be unchanged in all cultures. While that fortitude is respectable, I think it denies the incarnational nature of the gospel and of Jesus Christ.

The greater error is taking this further to claim that Orthodoxy is cultureless, or that it is the apostolic Christian culture. A very brief study of Orthodoxy reveals that it is steeped in Hellenic culture. It is not the church of the apostles--Peter and Paul knew nothing of gold-plated Bibles, domed buildings and beautiful monasteries--it is merely an adaptation of the church of the apostles to the Hellenistic culture. There is nothing insidious about this. Anabaptism is an adaptation of the apostolic church to a certain culture. Puritanism is an adaptation of the apostolic church to a certain English culture. Vineyard Churches are an adaptation of the apostolic church to American culture. So, Orthodoxy is the same. It is a hellenized version of Christianity, and while it may claim the closest ties to the apostolic church (in terms of time), it cannot claim to be the apostolic church. It is a blend. An adaptation of the biblical faith. For example, the emphasis on monastic life is an adaptation; though the model of the monastic life existed in the NT world (in the Essenes), it is interesting that the Bible doesn't record any of Jesus' followers becoming monastics, nor forming monastic communities. Also, the elaborate displays of the churches is an adaptation; the NT church had no such buildings.

So, this is fine, this hellenized version of Christianity. And it is valid. However, its nearness to the church of the Scriptures is provable only in terms of time. If one finds a Hellenistic version of Christianity the best, then that is great. But one should not claim that it is the culture, or is above culture. It is deeply rooted in culture and clings to that culture tenaciously and does not allow it to be compromised. While most of this is biblical, much of it may be based on the pagan philosophy of Plato; but it holds on all the same. Just as some modern churches cling to Calvin, or Ryrie, or even Billy Graham. It is like the old Republicans who are trying to bring a 1950s culture into a 1990s world because they are convinced that it is the right culture.

My chart demonstrating my understanding of the paradigms of history. They all can point to the gospel, or away from it, but they themselves are not the only vehicle. When they are used to come closer to the gospel, they come closer to other paradigms. When they are used monomaniacally, they are far apart from other paradigms.

September 12

On Liturgical Theology. I definitely think the worship of a community is a demonstration and a transmission of theology, even when it does not intend to be. I'm not sure I would agree that it is "subliminal" as Webber said today. Sometimes it is. Other times, the congregants are quite cognizant of what is being said. It varies from person to person and from worship to worship.

Old liturgies like that of John Chrysostolm are rife with biblical allusions and theological ideas, yet they are not presented as such. In such cases, there is a certain subliminal affect as one learns the liturgy without realizing that he or she is learning scripture of theology. I remember, for example, as a young teen being pleasantly surprised to find the Easter liturgy in the Orthodox Church quoting a rock song by Petra. There was the priest saying, "Where is the sting (tell me) Where is the bite?" I loved that song! Of course, Petra didn't write the line, I later learned. However, in all the years that I had heard the Easter liturgy and heard that line, I never realized I was hearing Scripture. Only when I found the same words in Petra did I find the common source--the Bible. That would be a definite example of subliminal teaching.

Another would probably be my opinion on the filioque. I agree with the Eastern interpretation, that the Holy Spirit simply proceeds from the Father. My reason for this is simple: 1) I am not deep enough to have a theological opinion on the matter. 2) Hundreds of times in my life I've said the creed as "who proceeds from the Father" and I might as well stick with what I know. This is probably the same reasoning that most average lay members of churches use. When in doubt, stick with what you know. In fact, change is difficult. When you've memorized a creed or prayer, you actually have to work to be able to recite it differently. When I've been to mainline churches that exclude the mention of hell from their recitation of the creed, I've found it hard to follow along. In that sense it is subliminal.

However, I think that much of the work of church education is to bring the subliminal to the conscious. I have thought that the continuation of new liturgical churches depends on somehow relating to the children the richness of the liturgy which attracted the adults to convert. Because to many kids, liturgy is just repetitious and boring. It's just words. So, to make people aware of the significance of the subliminal clues they've been getting will help them appreciate the liturgy.

Other theology is not subliminal. A prime example: It all started when my wife Amy was studying Neibuhr's Christ and Culture. While working on a paper or something, she asked me where in the Bible was the verse exhorting believers to be "in the world but not of the world." I didn't know. So, we scoured the concordance looking for the verse, only to find that it was not in the Bible. A similar saying was, but that oft-repeated mantra was not. We were astounded. We had heard that phrase mentioned so often in the worship and preaching of church, Sunday school, and Bible studies that we were sure it was biblically rooted. Everyone thinks so. Our friend, the very intelligent son of a very prominent mega-church pastor, was absolutely astounded when we told him it wasn't in the Bible. This should be on the Christian National Inquirer.

The point is this. We had picked up this point of theology from the "liturgy" of our churches. While our churches claimed not to have liturgies, they did; they used the same form of worship every Sunday, and the same theological themes--like in the world but not of the world--were continually put forth. Those themes were picked up us quite cognitively, and shaped the way we thought about the world. Such that when an issue arose, we were led to the theological premise which we had heard so often in church.

A final note about music. Church music is rich and indicates so much. Though I am no expert on it, it is fascinating to consider the differences in styles and approaches. It's hard to know if any should be criticized, or if it should be a matter of total personal taste. But a few things are true: people feel passionately about their musical tastes, and music passionately affects people.

September 17

On Postmodernism. Is Postmodernism for real? Is it really happening? Good question. I never heard mention of it outside of Wheaton. People around here think it's the Rossetta Stone which explains all the features of culture, truth and belief. Maybe it is. Maybe not. Maybe the reason Wheaton people talk about it all the time is because they exist in the small world and distinct culture of Wheaton. Maybe the reason is because the universities lead culture and describe things that others do not even see. It is true that many Enlightenment people don't even know that they are, or don't even know what Enlightenment is (or would that make them un-Enlightened?). Regardless, I think that all our discussion of Postmodernism is like the Nagasaki survivors discussing what happened just seconds after the bomb exploded. It's so immediate that it's hard to really make it out. You can state observations and people will find them true, but only time and more distant viewing will enable us to understand what exactly happened. Let our children figure it out.

On Confessions. It is an interesting distinction made in class between creeds and confessions. Both are witnesses to truth. This is true. The difference between them, it is said is that creeds are universal and confessions are parochial. This is true to some extent, but it has some problems. Of course, looking back it seems clear to us that creeds are universal; the reason for that is that we, and about everyone we know, comes from the point of view of the creeds. However, at the time the creeds seemed parochial. To the Arians the creeds condemning them were not universal, but merely the expression of truth as seen by one faction within the faith. To those monophysites that still exist today those creeds against them are parochial. In most any history of the early church and the councils, one sees and must make sense of the fact that the creeds were the result of two fighting parties and that the creeds usually represent a victory for one and a loss for another. To the losing party, the creeds are not universal since they do not include them.

The confessions certainly seem parochial, as they are rooted in particular denominations' history. But it is likely that those who wrote them intended some universal application. Those who wrote them thought of them as universal truth. So, while they are in fact parochial, they did not intend to be, from my understanding. I don't think it was in the spirit of the times for the reformers to each set up their own little system like booths at a fair hoping to attract their own little band of followers. I think they had universal goals. I don't think they wanted to set up the multiple choice Christianity we have today. While their efforts remain nonetheless limited in their influence, it seems a bit simplistic to call them parochial and the creeds universal.

Both the creeds and the confessions aspired to be universal. However, both of them were, in the context of their times, parochial. The distinctions aren't so simplistic.

September 19

On Incarnational Evangelism. I believe very strongly in incarnational evangelism. I believe it is the most biblical model for missionary activity; it replicates the activity of God who became incarnate in a culture. The problem with incarnational evangelism is that it often goes unappreciated by people outside of the target culture. People feel that the message is distorted or they think that it is a different message from the one they heard. This can be a problem. The challenge for incarnational evangelism is to maintain the core message of the gospel.

So this brings us to Justin Martyr and his Apology to Titus. Using the background of Greek philosophy he explained the incarnation and the character of Jesus Christ. To be honest, at first I wasn't crazy about Justin's platonic explanation. This is because I tend to want to de-emphasize the Greek thought that has permeated Christianity, and instead to emphasize the biblical Hebrew thought in which Jesus moved and lived. However, once it was mentioned in class that basically this was a sort of incarnational evangelism, then I was in favor of it. It is brilliant in that respect. Showing the emperor that things in his culture point to the objective truth of Christ. And explaining the gospel in a way that the Greek-minded could understand. I think most of the people who oppose incarnational evangelism have no clue what it is like to exist in a culture that is untouched by Christianity. Because we are so saturated in it, it is easy for us to explain the gospel. However, in cultures with totally different worldviews, the gospel is far more outrageous than the notion of life on Mars. Certainly the message of the incarnate son of God would have been completely bizarre to the emperor Titus.

In the conversation in class, I was reminded of a passage in Augustine's Confessions. There he talks about what he learned from the Greek philosophers. He learned that the Word was with God and that the Word created the world and that the Word was a reflection of God. But, he says, he did not learn that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. This is the key. I wrote a paper on the Logos in Philo and John, and so I found the Logos philosophy of Greek thought quite interesting. It is fascinating that such an idea existed in pagan thought which is so near the truth of the Son. Though I would be cautious to say that the Greek philosophers were inspired by God in their writings, it is clear that God was someone resident in the Greek culture to create means by which the gospel would be explainable. It shows that God is sovereign not only over the Hebrew people which acknowledge his dominion, but even over those pagan people who do not even know who he is.

Yes, there is something in the Greek culture which points to Christ, and it is legitimate for Justin to point this out. Though at first it makes it look like he is merely pandering to the emperor's ideas, and molding Christ to a convenient package, in reality what he is doing is a legitimate evangelistic and apologetic tool. I would want to point out, however that the same idea can, and must, be applied to other cultures. The Greek culture is not special in its pointing to Christ. If Christianity is in fact the one true objective reality, then it makes sense that all human experience points to the Christian truths, even if we cannot see it. A model of it could be as follows (consider its comparison with my earlier model):

Whether we are telling a junior high kid that Jesus can be her best friend or are telling Titus that Jesus is the Logos, we assume this model all the time. Much of what is in people's culture is valid and if we can capture its pure elements then we can explain the gospel in a way that they will understand. We will explain how God is already Lord of the universe and they must merely acknowledge this fact. That, after all, is the goal of evangelism.

September 24

On Origen's Cosmology. I think Origen's ideas were interesting, though they certainly seem bizarre. It seems to make humans equal in stature with angels and demons, which has interesting implications. It is first of all in opposition to the idea that humans are a little lower than the angels. I guess the difference between humans and demons and angels is that humans have material bodies. But still, it implies that Satan is far from equal with God; this is good. Too often Satan is portrayed as the equal arch-enemy of God. He is the arch-enemy, but he certainly is not equal. At the same time, the pre-creation similarity of humans and demons would lessen the power they have over humans. Many people think demons have a lot of control in the modern world; some people even believe miracles have ceased, and yet they emphasize the continuing work of Satan. This is confused. Origen's comparison at least emphasizes the idea that the devil is not to be feared because he's not all that powerful and he has been conquered by Christ.

At any rate, Origen's vision of piety is both strange and common. The pre-existence of the souls seems weird to many people. However, the idea that the point of human life is to prove our devotion to God is a fairly common impression among pious people of all denominations. I think maybe the Mormons picked up on some of Origen's ideas, whether directly or indirectly. In fact, I'm quite sure of it. I remember several years back picking up a Mormon Sunday School Primer from a Goodwill store. Since Mormons often stress their similarity with Christianity when they are talking to a Christian, I figured this was a good chance to get the basics. I remember distinctly reading the freaky notion that they believed that we all existed previously in heaven. To prove who was truly good, each soul was sent to earth in a body to live life. The minds of those people was obviously wiped clean of any memories of life in heaven. This is just like Origen. The way that the Mormon idea differs completely with Origen is in the perception of Christ. In Mormonism, the primer said, Jesus was just another soul up there hanging out with us. When God came to this mass of souls and announced that he needed someone to volunteer to go to earth and die as a sacrifice to provide redemption, Jesus volunteered. For that noble reason, Jesus is to be emulated (and worshipped, I think) for doing so. But there is the implication that any of us souls could have done it.

Not to mention the Christological problems with the Mormon idea. It totally destroys the deity of Christ, or I should say the special deity of Christ. It suggests that he was not with God, nor was God from the beginning of time. It is adoptionism with a twist--he was adopted before time rather than at baptism. It certainly destroys the notion of the trinity. Obviously. It makes impossible our redemption through his life and death. How can one no greater in us in substance redeem us? He has no special power. He is not the eternal Word, the only Son of God, he's just another son of god. He's just a volunteer. It reminds me of one of my favorite Southern Gospel songs, which begins "Just suppose God searched through heaven / He couldn't find one willing to be / The supreme sacrifice that was needed / That would buy eternal life for you and me."

There's so much bad theology out there. So many problematic Christologies expressed so beautifully. I think it's wonderful. I love it. Because God is so great and so huge that he loves us despite our intellectual errors. And even bad theology cannot separate us from the love of God. Is that so? Of course we know neither life nor death nor angels nor demons nor anything in all creation can separate us from the love of God. But isn't theology more crucial that all those things, especially in Wheaton? No way. Friends of mine have said Mother Theresa is along with other Catholics in being unsaved because they think they are saved by their works. So, they're wrong--so what? If salvation is by grace, then why does it matter if they're wrong in their soteriology? In the same way, God can save us even if our Christology is off. Thanks be to him, because I still haven't figured out this homoouisis thing.

October 1

On Christus Victor. It is true, Christus Victor is a neglected view of atonement in most modern Protestant evangelical churches. I thought Lora made a nice point when she pointed out the use of it in black and Pentecostal churches. Interesting. Like other things, I'm a holist on the issue. I think we need to see them all present in a dynamic relationship. The sacrifice is real, the victory is real, and the example is real--that's why they are all found in the Bible. We need not make it multiple choice anymore than we need to declare whether Christ's life, death or resurrection is primary. They are all related. I was wondering if each view of atonement is found primarily in one section of the New Testament. For example, the moral theory might be rooted in the synoptic gospels. The Christus Victor seems primarily based on Paul's cosmology. The sacrifice is found mostly in Hebrews and in the Old Testament background. Of course there are exceptions. I was just wondering.

I find Irenaeus' comparison of the first and second Adam to be quite fascinating. Typology usually is. Of course, the details aren't in perfect alignment; it's not the best parallel. But it's still enjoyable and entirely valid as he draws out the biblical model of Christ as the second Adam. Christ has redeemed creation, and the parallel helps make this understandable.

It seems that there's a certain political element involved in the Christus Victor emphasis. The sacrificial model is basically metaphysical and transcendent--one cannot presently see it happening. However, with Christus Victor, there is an assumption that the stuff of earth has changed and now should conform to the redemptive creation of God. This could be dangerous for the status quo. It leads people to want to help make the world around them represent the fact that it is redeemed. This activism may be another reason that middle-class Evangelicals don't get into Christus Victor. In the radical shift of the conquering of powers, it is likely that the rich will end up on bottom.

October 8

On the Church. I think the doctrine of the Church is fascinating and extremely difficult to figure out. Like soteriology. There are so many images and descriptions of it, it's hard to connect the puzzle. Most groups tend to just pick one image and go with it, setting it in stone. I'm glad Vatican II recognizes Protestants as brothers--I'd much rather be a mere prodigal than frying in hell. So that's the thing about the Church. How exclusive is it? There are Catholics and Protestants who think that heaven's population is going to be about that of Supply, North Carolina. I mean, they really think that only they are saved. And then there are the Orthodox. Even moreso, the recent converts to Orthodoxy...

We talked in class about fundamentalist ghettos and how when you live in one, you really think you're the only one who is right. I think that is the nature of ghettos. Whether they are black, or homosexual, or Catholic, or Swedish, or Cuban, or white, or Evangelical, ghettos convince those in them that their group is superior. The biggest example I've seen of this is my mother's Antiochian Orthodoxy community. They all live together, and it is very nice. However, their feelings of rightness just emanate throughout the place. When I visit, I feel like a pagan at a pastor's conference, or (more apt) like a common believer among Gnostics. They definitely think that they have something which I lack. Something which, perhaps, makes me less. They are cordial, but basically make me feel like an outsider. I am not their brother. I can understand why they feel this way. They live in a ghetto. And everyone they value agrees with them, and has the same values and church building. It's just like visiting a deeply-rooted rural area in the South. And that's too bad, because I am so reminded of that little song of which I only know one line: "They will know we are Christians by our love." Over the years, I have found Orthodox theology and argument powerful and persuasive. However, several times when I have felt swayed by it, I've thought of those converts whom I have met, and I have wondered if I want to be like them. Why would I buy into a theology which yields pride? Of course, I am exaggerating. There are some wonderful people there, and I know all of them are loving people who are good to their families and friends. But there's a secret knowledge about them that puts off an air of exclusivity. I don't see Christ in it.

I guess I'm glad for the opportunity, in a way. I get to know how non-Christians often feel when they hang out with Christians. They feel like they don't have everything the Christians do--like they are different. They feel that way because it's true: they are lacking. So I guess the question comes down to whether I am lacking. Sure I am, in their opinion. But they know that I am a devout Protestant, how bad is that? Are those not Orthodox really so bad off? If so, they've got a tiny heaven too. I guess the point is we all should get out of our ghettos and value people outside of it.

October 24

On Luther's Defense. I like Luther. I think he's an interesting guy. So full of passion. Sure, he had his problems--I think that's part of why I like him. But I wanted to follow up on my comment in class (which drew laughter from my classmates) that "When Luther said Sola Scriptura, he didn't really mean it." When you get right down to it, few who say that really mean it. And Luther certainly meant something more complex than Webber gives him credit. Webber likes to make fun of that Reformed theologian (what's his name?) who enunciates "Scripture Alone!" and then Webber reads that back into Luther to criticize the entire legacy of Protestantism. He said that there were many views of the Church and Scripture and Luther just picked one out, as if he were playing Go Fish.

Well, the false dichotomy that some exhibit by insisting "Scripture alone" is being perpetuated by Webber's approach. He put on the board the Church and the Scriptures in their respective states in the first century. He says that the Orthodox and Catholic respect both, while those evil Protestants say "Scripture Alone!" Webber quotes this so much to try to prod the Protestants students into a reaction--making them chose Scripture alone or Scripture and the Church. I think the reason no one took his bait is that most all Protestants I know have no problem with the first-century Church. Most Churches I know are trying to get back to the early faith, they just disagree on how is the best way to do that.

Luther certainly valued more than the text alone. He valued the creeds and the early church fathers (which he understood as being Augustine). Like Tyndale, who spoke of Scripture alone but included in his translation a lengthy introduction on how to read the Bible, Luther was not a Bible alone nut. I think Luther would have accepted Webber's paradigm--it's not radical. Yes, the Church and the Bible were intertwined and even indistinguishable. They were brothers, born of the same father, created as a result of the same divine act. Maybe they were even twins (Siamese, if you like). For several hundred years you could not tell them apart. If you saw one on the street, you'd say "Are you . . . or are you . . .?" But the fact of history is that the one brother turned prodigal. He left the way of the father, a fact that was self-evident by Luther's time. And Luther had to chose which brother should be the king and which should be the subject. He chose rightly.

We all realize that it was a milieu from which the Bible and Church sprung. And we'd all love to go back to the time when it was not necessary to distinguish the two as separate. But here we are in the West on this side of the sins of the Catholic Church. So how do we return to the faith of the first century? We have two brothers to follow. Do we follow the one who has veered off the path before? Or do we follow the brother who has not changed? Can we follow both?

But what has remain unchanged? The Orthodox Church, they say: hasn't changed in two thousand years. That's simply not true. Did Ireneaus celebrate the Divine Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostolm? Of course not. That liturgy was a fourth century innovation. Perhaps the doctrine hasn't changed, but isn't liturgy really the important thing anyway? The Orthodox Church has frozen in time a certain century and a certain culture and declared that to be the ancient faith. Even if you accept the argument that older is always better (which I don't), then still the Bible is the more faithful rule since it represents a first century faith while the Orthodox represents several centuries later. The Orthodox church has its innovations--it's just they happened so long ago that to those with a blurry view of history, they seem to have been about the time of Christ. After all, what's three hundred years when you're dealing with so long ago? But Webber shows how a lot happened in those first few hundred years. I think innovations are good--golden vestments, incense, and beautiful churches sure add to the liturgy--but don't deny that they happened. And don't deny that they are additions. Yes, the Orthodox Church has changed in the past two thousand years.

October 29

On Gnostic Remnants. I should clarify my question in class. I asked about how much Gnosticism remained in the Church. Webber responded by (predictably) criticizing the West. Yes, Gnosticism remains in Evangelicalism in many ways. I knew about this. And, he mentioned its remnants in the Catholic Church. I should have asked my question more directly. What I meant is to what extent did it remain in the early Church. I was thinking of the asceticism which pervaded the early Church and which, from my observation, still reigns in the Orthodox Church. The reason I did not specifically mention the Orthodox Church is that I didn't want to get into the typical rut of class discussions--the Orthodox apologetic. But it seems to me that the asceticism in the early eastern Church reflected a great Gnosticism, and I see it very much in the Orthodox Church today. Just as much as I see it in the Protestant and Catholic churches. Anyhow. I think our class is in a serious rut. I decided that when another student said it seemed like we'd lost momentum and were not discussing anything new. Part of that is due to the paradigm of the class--we are not moving ahead chronologically. Part also is the nature of the study--the themes just keep reoccurring. I think the biggest reason, however, is the class discussions. They always revolve around the fact that Orthodoxy is so far superior to any other faith. It's old news by now. It was old to me from the first day, since I have been exposed so much to Orthodoxy and its arguments (probably more than anyone else in the class, including Corrie). But when a fellow classmate said it seemed we weren't going anywhere, it made me think I'm not the only one. It's not provocative anymore. It's predictable. So Protestants are losers--excuse me while I change my life. So the West is inferior--please help me pack my bags.

We need some new material to think over. Our class is tired of arguing the superiority of the Eastern Orthodox Church.

October 31

On the Trinity. The trinity is basically the issue. It is core in a million ways. It's what separates Christians from non-Christians, I believe. You cannot be a Christian and disavow the Trinity. At the same time, it is the issue that creates the greatest problems for Protestants, and especially for Primitivists. Why exactly do we believe the Trinity? Likewise, it is the most profound mystery. It is the thing that makes Christianity most unreasonable and most irrational. As if theism weren't crazy enough. As if monotheism wasn't elitist enough. We hold a three-in-one monotheism. Try understanding that with your little lump of grey matter. And try we do. There are the physical analogies, like the beloved shamrock, once a symbol of God himself now a symbol of drunken parties at Benigan's in mid-March. There are the scientific analogies, like water, ice and steam. There are the mental analogies, and the anthropological ones (mind, soul, spirit). They are all great, and they are all impossible. They may help one edge toward a correct view of the Trinity, but they can't quite nail it on the head. It is possible to come to some reasonable understanding of the Trinity, one you can hold in your pocket and share with your friends. But it's heretical. Those views which we understand almost always fall under one of the heresies. Most of us operate with such a view. We pretty much have to, or we would go mad. The reason is that the Trinity can only be expressed in negative theology. And it is the most transcendent and metaphysical idea that nothing--neither nature, words, or thoughts--can fully express it. Gosh, that sounds Gnostic. But seriously, try to explain the Trinity and as soon as the words come off your lips you will find yourself in a heresy. If you use the word "not" then it doesn't count. What a mystery. We know it's true, we just have little idea how it is or what it looks like. Crazy.

On Liturgy. I think Liturgical Epistemology is interesting. That the see of all the Christian faith existed in the earliest liturgies. I don't have a problem with that. It makes sense that the things in Scripture are accounts of the milieu of theology which existed in the earliest churches. The problem, I think, is what Brian asked about--we don't have any proof of any of it. It's an argument from silence, which is fine when you're talking theology (as in Trinity), but it's problematic when you're talking history. Sure, it makes sense that the early worship created the Bible, but historically that's about all we can say since we so lack any evidence for it.

November 5

On Trinity and Incarnation. I would just like to say how much I'm enjoying this book. Although it is harder to read than Gonzales' book, I wonder if this should be the first book we read. The thing I like about it is how it starts with the way early church and its thoughts. Instead of rushing into Hellenism, it gives much attention to the Hebraic influence on early Christianity, something which I think is totally overlooked. It is the first book I've read which takes serious time to discuss how Jewish culture understood the Christ event. I like that. Also, it seems to offer much of the thoughts on which Webber bases his thoughts--mostly the early thoughts in the liturgy, practices and writings. Very good. It is so refreshing at this point in the course to read about Christology without ending up just talking about Plato again.

November 7

On Spirituality. This anti-Gnostic thing is intriguing. At the same time, I find I am beating a dead horse if I discuss it yet again. I guess the thing is that I haven't seen anyone (neither Protestant or Orthodox or Catholic) model a sort of Christ-centered spirituality that does not seem Gnostic and that affirms the material. I understand the theories. Sure, icons are okay because the material is redeemed. And it is definitely important for the Eucharist--we Protestants must realize that the material can be sacred. But as to day to day spiritual life, I just have no clue what material spirituality looks like. The closest thing I can think of easily slips into merely human religious activity which bears no mark of Christ. Certainly liberal Christians who deny objective supernaturalism and reduce Christianity to merely subjective experience are affirming the material. That's all there is for them, after all. Or the New Age (such a dumb term) which says that material is divine. They certainly have a material spirituality. But I have trouble imagining what a totally non-Gnostic, yet totally Christian, spirituality would look like. Maybe it's a perfect goal for which we reach but never make it.

Then there is the issue of holiness. Is holiness a Jewish idea while spirituality is a Greek one? (I don't know). But we are certainly commanded to "be holy," a commandment which means to be set apart. It is hard to be set apart while being totally a part of the material world. It is easier to define being set apart and holy as a separation from the material and a preoccupation with the immaterial. Jesus managed to do it. But we have trouble replicating him. After all, we were never commanded to be spiritual. I'm not sure the implications of all this, but it's just been on my mind.

November 19

On Pelagius. Today was Pelagius Appreciation Day. Pretty funny. Yeah, I can appreciate Pelagius. I'm sure he was a nice guy, pretty nice and loving. Probably a good guy to talk to. Probably not the best guy to rent a movie with though (how come all the good movies are R?). His concern for holiness is understandable, and I guess it's the same thing that brings us to Pelagianism in our modern day. You know, "have a good witness." That seems to be the biggest thing that we say that emphasizes works. And that's about holiness basically. Luther's idea of being simultaneously saved and a sinner lends itself to freedom for the Christian, but it doesn't lend itself to holiness.

That saying of Jesus "be ye perfect as I am perfect" is quite problematic. Why in the world would he say that? Is it really possible? I think in our Evangelical world we do lean toward Pelagianism by always seeking, striving and such. The answer to one's problem is always to read something or do something more. But at the same time there's such a pessimism in our current culture that Pelagianism doesn't appeal. Not many people are currently optimistic about the human capacity for anything. Isn't that what Postmodernism is all about. We can't make good societies, we can't get along integrated, we can't reduce crime, we can't even love our families. There is pessimism everywhere.

November 21

On Class Today. Webber asked me to comment in class today. Afterwards he told me to feel free to share. I didn't want to enter the skirmish.

Lora was right. The sweeping generalizations that are so thrown out in class were beginning to overlap each other. I wonder if her refusal to be satiated with the (somewhat lame) explanations she was getting from Webber and Cori was a result of a whole semester of frustration. Frustration from all these generalizations. Rhetorically, sweeping generalizations are very powerful things. And in this class, one "side" in the ETERNAL EAST-WEST DEBATE has their hands tied, while the other sweeps as much as they please. An inaccurate generalization from one of us crazy West people would not survive for ten seconds on the wrestling mat of our classroom. The ref would call it a foul. However, generalizations about that lame Western mentality are more than welcome, and go unheaded. Unheeded from the ref because Eastern point-of-view=correct. And unheeded from the West because why compete when the ref's so biased.

If I did think that the discussion in the class was honest and open and exploring, and not just a battle of willful people. If I were the type to share my thoughts. Then this is what I would have said:

What an enormous and simplistic generalization Cori made with her comment that started the whole discussion: "It seems clear to me that the West [Augustine] starts with man, while the East starts with God." Now, Cori is far better read than I, and she is highly perceptive and intelligent. But, either she hasn't read Augustine or (more likely) she is just being polemic.

I will cite a specific example (something which our entire discussion today was missing and in dire need of). I think of Augustine's biography in Confessions, when he talks about how even the milk from his mother's breast that fed the unworthy infant was an undeserved gift from God. Now, on one hand, you may read this as simply self-debasement, and saying that humans totally depraved. But it's not that simple. Augustine is not a grunge rocker with poor self esteem. Instead, any debasement of humanity is linked with the graciousness of God. The doctrine of man and of God are, like all decent ideas, linked. Augustine sees God as the ultimate source and as the great giver. It's all over the Confessions. He realizes his comparative need. The two ideas fit together and are inseparable. The only thing I've read like the Confessions is the Psalms. Like a psalmist, Augustine shifts in his writing from first person to second person and from objective to subjective. He's using narrative to tell about stealing some fruit, and next thing you know he's praising God for his goodness. He's back and forth that way.

Augustine is by no means an anthropologist. Nor is he a modernist who defines God by humanity. Augustine, from my reading of Confessions, has a theology which intertwines the human experience with the divine. He does not "start" with one. That's like trying to distinguish if you start smelling with your left nostril or your right. The human and divine state are linked. Sounds incarnational to me.

November 26

On Synergism. I realized this summer something about the theology of sanctification--like maybe I should have one. It really is quite a mess, this contradiction we perpetuate. We say you are saved by grace through faith alone. I mean, we say that over and over again, and we call those heretics who disagree. On the other hand, we don't really believe it. We assume that all good Christians should read their Bibles daily and act a certain way and all that. Of course, we say this doesn't make you any more saved, but it just helps you get to know God better. But, do we really believe that? I know I judge whether a person is a Christian by whether they have a quiet time--while I do not come to conclusions about those who don't, I know that if someone does, they are definitely a Christian.

This contradiction is very very troubling to me spiritually. I guess I can handle the paradoxes (which may seem like contradictions) when they have to do with objective issues of truth--Christology, Trinity, and even the Bible. I can decide to believe something and then stick to it. But when it is something which is daily in my face, it is considerably harder to endure. Am I saved by belief or am I saved by what I do? It's an everyday issue. Must I read my Bible today? Must I pray? Should I join a Bible study? Should I stop watching R-rated movies? Should I give away more money? Should I do more to stop abortion? Should I cancel my subscription to Rolling Stone because it features a buxom Pamela Anderson Lee on the cover?

I honestly wish I could find contentment on this issue. It is not academic. It is life. Contradictions attack faith. Tons of people reject Christianity because they think the doctrine of the Trinity is foolish. Or they think the idea of a God-Man is superstitious. The faith-works contradiction is the one I can't handle. If this thing is true, why doesn't it make more sense?

I can't accept synergism because I think people just really suck. I mean, it's everywhere. But mostly inside me. I have faith in people and I try to be optimistic and naive. But experience just tells me that I am unable to do much good. I've spent most of my life trying. I was very devout in high school. I read the Bible. I prayed. I knew the answers. I knew what to do. I knew all the reasons why a Christian should not drink, smoke or have sex. As for my actions--well, at least I didn't drink or smoke. But when I sinned with a girl I'd met in a Christian group, I found that I was a tomb of rotting bones. I was incapable of doing good. I was only capable of looking like I was doing good. And yes I know about the disciplines of the Christian life. They are cool. But they are not able to quench my thirst for sin. I've got too much of it. "I do not understand what I do; what I want to do I do not do" How can I cooperate with grace when I can't even cooperate with myself?

So, I find temporary comfort in justification by faith. But something about that doesn't feel right. I think it could. If I were not married and didn't have friends who thought I needed to be a good Christian. I've just got such a culture around me that when I try to live freely and "sin and sin boldly" then I just end up feeling like crap. I think I'm supposed to have the freedom in the Christian life to watch an R-rated movie. But then why do I feel so guilty when I do? Ya see, I need one of those Martin Luther experiences where I feel the burden of works-religion lifted off of me. The only problem is that I don't have the energy to start my own religion, much less to think of 95 theses worth nailing on a door.

And even so, this purely objective salvation is a bit unsatisfying. It seems too outside and easy. I don't know.

December 3

On Postmodernism. I have only one comment about synergism, postmodernism and Webber's point in class today. He asserted that synergism was the soteriological model of the postmodern age. He said that because it's subjective. This is a good point. I guess the attraction of the objective and legal views of atonement may be waning. However, the big problem I think postmodernism will have with synergism is that synergism is way too optimistic. Consider my last journal response--laced with major pessimism about the human ability. I see pessimism in human achievement as one of the major pillars of postmodernism (does postmodernism have pillars? maybe more like drywall or something). The doubt of science is based on doubt of the ability of humans to reason. The doubt of politics is based on the doubt of the ability of humans to act selflessly and nobly. The doubt of religion is based on the doubt of the ability of humans to have any experience outside themselves. I mean we doubt everything: science, religion, knowledge, truth, statistics, family, justice, everything.

I mean how can humans have the fortitude to see God's truth and cooperate with it in a world where OJ is aquitted? You can't trust the DNA scientists, you can't trust the lawyers, and you certainly can't trust that scuz ball Mark Furman.

So I try to be optimistic. I really do. But I'm just horrible at being optimistic about human nature. Just more proof in my life that I can't be the things I try to be. Oh boy, this going no where.

But my point is this--as a child of postmodernism--I think that the postmodern pessimism would make it difficult to embrace synergism. I don't know what you would embrace. Let's see. If you combine pessimism with an emphasis on the subjective, you get total desperate nihilism. Which pretty much describes what prevails in our culture. For Christians, it just becomes a Christian nihilism. It's everywhere. Think about it.

I do wish to see some light on this issue. See God work wonderfully.

December 5

On NT Baptism. What an interesting topic. Some NT Theologian wrote an work on baptism in the New Testament in which he advocated infant baptism. I would like to have read it, since it is usually assumed that the New Testament contains nearly zero evidence for baptizing infants.

I was baptized as an infant. I take pride in being baptized in the most dramatic way I've ever heard of. Dunked three times naked in a big vat. I'm sure that was a sight. Everyone I tell that to is quite impressed with its drama.

I've not been re-baptized, though many friends of mine have been. I just never felt like doing it.

Talk about the power of liturgy! I think the reason I've never felt like getting re-baptized is this lingering mantra that sticks in my brain . . . "I believe in one baptism for the remission of sins . . ."

I like what Dr. Okholm said about infant baptism. He was referring to those who say, "I was baptized as an infant and then I became a Christian when I was 16." Okholm says, "See! It worked!" It's a cool thought. That maybe the reason one had a born again experience is because of the effect of a sacrament so many years ago. Isn't that so like God? To surprise us.

And we thought the reason we found Jesus was because we started reading the Bible when we were 13, or because we went to camp, or attended a revival meeting. When really it was because we had been marked. Pretty cool.

December 12

On Eucharist. That was a great analogy Webber used today about the presence of God in the Old Testament. How it is always present and yet makes special appearances on certain occasions. Appropriate since I had just finished a paper on Exodus 33-34, where God shows himself to Moses (though of course he was always with him). So, of all the debatables among the denominations, I think I have the least trouble with the Eucharist. Sure, it can be the body and blood of Christ. No reason not to believe it.

I kind of like the Lutheran explanation. Maybe because I do not understand it, and so it seems sufficiently vague and mysterious. Transubstantiation seems an intellectual puzzle. Spiritual presence seems a bit weak. And, of course, memorialism is entirely rationalistic.

As I said, it may well be that the elements truly are the body and blood. Does this mean that they always are, or only in churches that believe they are? Could it be that Baptists are consuming Christ even when they think that they are only eating bread? I suspect that those realist would say NO. On the other hand, I think of ex operato. Of course, you still must say the words of institution--that is what distinguishes it. But then it seems a bit of a magic trick, predictable calling on God to which he is obliged to answer.

I remember well the last time I took the Orthodox Eucharist. I had been going to a Protestant Church for several years, and did not believe that it could be the actual body and blood. I was visiting my mom and we were going to a church I'd never been to. I told her I didn't want to take the Eucharist out of respect for the church, since I could not take it with full belief in it. She asked that I take it. We went back and forth and I finally agreed to do it just for her sake. When I went forward to take elements, for the first time in my entire life, the priest asked me, "Are you Orthodox?" It was a moment of transcendence. What caused him to ask? Maybe I didn't look Greek at the time. Maybe I had hesitation on my face. Maybe he just knew. Pretty weird. But since at that time was an official member of the Church, I replied "Yes" and took the elements.

Appropriately, that was the last time. Since I was married outside the Orthodox Church, I am no longer a member. Ironically, I could probably take the elements with greater faith in the mystery than when I was a member. I like what Dr. Okholm told us he said when he took Catholic Eucharist: "Lord, I don't know what this is, but . . . " (I forgot the rest).

Yes, this one and a half year of theology school has taught me that there are a lot of things that I don't know. Now, what to do about it . . .