Thursday, November 15, 2018

Bonhoeffer


Eric Metaxas' book Bonhoeffer is, perhaps, one of the finest biographies of Dietrich Bonhoeffer I have ever read.  It is more than just a biography, though.  What Metaxas does is to place Bonhoeffer squarely in German history.  With extended sections explaining the political winds of Germany both before and after World War I, Metaxas provides the setting in which Bonhoeffer developed his theology as well as how he became involved with the resistance to the Nazi regime.

For many of the books on Bonhoeffer, the focus is his theology and his sermons.  Expositions on the writings of Bonhoeffer and the like are all well and good.  Yet few get behind the writings to provide an in depth description of the man Bonhoeffer.  In understanding Germany, the post-WWI atmosphere, Bonhoeffer's education and extended family, Metaxas is able to provide a positively thorough description of Bonhoeffer, his time, and his thoughts.

Generously borrowing from Bonhoeffer's own writings, Metaxas does a great job of distilling the thinking and theology of Bonhoeffer, which in and of itself was very vivacious and alive: Bonhoeffer would never have simply settled to believe something - he had to wrestle with an idea and then continue to do so in an attempt to make sure he was truly understanding and living out his faith.

As the biography continues, the description of the political and religious winds of Germany that lead to World War II are clearly and effectively articulated.  Bonhoeffer, the Church, and the Nazis had a complicated and dangerous relationship for some time before Bonhoeffer became a part of the resistance and would ultimately be arrested and executed by the Nazis.  That aspect of the story, I feel, provides some fascinating and clarifying insight into how Bonhoeffer developed his theology and ideas about what it meant to be a disciple, which were most clearly laid out in Bonhoeffer's book The Cost of Discipleship.

If one seeks to have a profound and clear understanding of Bonhoeffer and his legacy, this is the book to read.  We may have never had the opportunity to meet Bonhoeffer, but Metaxas provides a clear and often moving portrait of the complicated and yet quite humble man of God.

It is a bit of a daunting read, clocking in at just under 600 pages, and one can get lost in the storytelling in good and bad ways: good in the vividness of it, but bad in that the narrative can take a side road to tell a story and one might lose sight of how Bonhoeffer tied in to the story.  But those moments are few and far between.

The story also provides grand insight into many other German theologians of the day: Barth, Tillich, and many other notable theological names come in and out of Bonhoeffer's story as does the story of the dark descent of the Church in Germany into a puppet of the state.  Clear, too, are Bonhoeffer's criticisms of the Protestant Church in the United States and the seeming inadequacies of the American higher education when it comes to theology.

The book makes no judgments of its own.  Instead it often allows Bonhoeffer's judgments to be read clearly: and one has to decide how to take some of Bonhoeffer's criticisms as they can still sting a bit.

However, as with all of us, Bonhoeffer was who he was.  The book does not seek to set him up as anything other than who he was through what he wrote and what has been written about him.  As such, it is an excellent read.

Bonhoeffer
Eric Metaxas
2010
Thomas Nelson, Publisher
608 pages

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Unbelievable


In what he describes as his last book, John Shelby Spong concludes his writing career with a cumulative work that echoes many of the challenges he has suggested throughout his career in various forms.  This particular work is a concise argument with regard to the fact that many of the doctrines, creeds, and theological ideas that the Church holds simply do not and, he would argue, cannot engage the modern mind – even the minds of Christians any longer. 

He opens the book with a short summary of his writing career and then lays out some of the questions he seeks to address, “which cover everything from God to Christ to prayer to life after death.”[1]

His opening point is that the church is dying.  Christianity is dying.  His conclusion as to why this is is that the church has become so inflexible that it holds to doctrine and dogma far more than it dedicates itself to the experience of God.  He then sets out to examine some basic tenants of the Christian faith and argue that they don’t have to be dogmatic, they don’t have to be taken literally, and that if we can consider some of the terms of the Christian faith without the theological and traditional baggage attached to them, we might find that there is still a living faith to be found inside and, perhaps more importantly, through the Christian faith.

To that end, Spong does what he does best: he shakes the reader up with what might seem deliberately antagonistic, anti-religious sounding chapter titles.  Even some of his writing sounds like well-rehearsed heated rhetoric, which is likely is, drawing from his own journey in the faith as well as his past writings and weekly column.  His words are well practiced and, though troubling for some to read, have a sense of genuineness that is both charming and threatening.

He beings with a chapter titled Why Modern Men and Women Can No Longer Be Believers.  It is of no surprise that Spong does not find readers from the more fundamentalist wings of the Christian faith. 

-

To begin his book, Spong makes reference to the question of the authority of the Bible.  “One learns quickly in such an environment [church] that claims for the “authority of the Bible” – filled, as that book is, with stories of an invasive, supernatural deity performing miracles – are ignored, and all attempts to define “the true faith,” or to pronounce anything that deviates from a traditional understanding to be “heresy,” is more a conversation-stopper than it is a way to dialogue.”[2]

There is, he goes on to say, a desire for a real experience of God on the part of the faithful, but that the church is often not the place that provides that.  There is also, he argues, “a game being played in contemporary church life where truth is suppressed in the name of unity.”[3]  His point here is that there are points, ideas, theologies, and historical understandings that are taught in seminary that, for the sake of the unity of the congregation (one might surmise) are not discussed with the general populace of the church.  Why not?  Because the education of the pastor and the faith of the congregation may be on two very, very different levels.  Therefore the pastor, who might seek dialogue, can only keep silent for the sake of those who claim the “authority of the Bible” while not being completely aware of what that Bible does or does not say.

Spong then moves to “Stating the Problem.”  To do this, he offers a short history of the reformation and explains that Luther, he believes, was seeking to enter into a debate about the church and suggesting reforms.  However, these suggestions were not received as such and the debate turned into something unexpected and completely different.  The reaction to Luther was anger, violence, and upheaval.  Not the intention of Luther, but, as Spong is seeking to point out, it is the reaction of those entrenched in ideologies to react strongly against those who would state a different claim or challenge the authority of the status quo. 

Spong is seeking, in some way, to make this last book his own 95 Thesis and challenge the rank and file Christians to seriously consider a top to bottom revisioning of the faith.  This comes, Spong explains, from the fact that the amount of human knowledge that has accumulated since the time of the writing of the Bible has far outstripped some of the thinking that the Bible contains.  From geology to astronomy, we know things about our universe that the Biblical writers simply could not.  As such, we have to come to recognize that many of the ideas in scripture “rise out of a world that no longer exists.”[4]

The question Spong asks is this: can the Christ experience be separated from the dying explanations of the past?[5]  To begin to answer that question, Spong states that there has to be a jettisoning of a tremendous amount of theological baggage.  “People need to feel the dead weight of traditional theological claims before they can open themselves and their ancient words to new possibilities.”[6]

Spong then lays out his 12 points of contention:
1.       God – what does this word even mean?
2.       Jesus the Christ – can we lose the idea of the incarnation?
3.       Original Sin – a pre-Darwinian mythology that is post-Darwinian nonsense.
4.       The Virgin Birth – we have to stop thinking of this as a literal possibility.
5.       Miracles – not magic.
6.       Atonement Theology – these (and there are more than one) are theologies that present a barbaric God and Jesus as a victim as well as turning us into guilt filled creatures.
7.       Easter – what does it mean that God raised Jesus?
8.       The Ascension – This assumes a three-tiered universe.  Is there any other way to consider this idea?
9.       Ethics – ancient codes can no longer hold weight.  We must become situationalists.
10.   Prayer – we need to think of it in terms of transcendence, not the means to get God to do something on our behalf.
11.   Life after Death – must be explored as transcendence and love vs. the idea of a place.
12.   Universalism – “Sacred tradition” must never provide a cover to justify discrimination.

Each “thesis” has its opening argument, followed, usually, by a chapter or two of arguments.  The difficulty of the text is that some of these thesis questions are so interwoven with each other that his ideas aren’t always fully developed until later chapters, the best example being the section on “Original Sin” which necessarily has ties to the later thesis on “Atonement Theology.”  In his work, dealing with one deals with the other.

In other chapters, his arguments are not as clearly articulated nor do they seem to be as well thought out.  Some of them seem to be more filler than substance, though they are logical offshoots of his larger points.

Conclusions

John Shelby Spong is no stranger to controversy – either in addressing it or, in many instances, creating it.  His outspokenness on issues of human sexuality and his willingness to radically redefine traditional elements of the Christian faith is nothing new.  His most recent and, according to him, last book Unbelievable is something of a conclusion to his larger body of writings.  In some ways, though, it would make a good introduction to his collected works.  Like the letter to Ephesians which scholars believe was written by a disciple of Paul to introduce the collected epistles of the Apostle, Unbelievable is a concise work that provides a quick articulation of Spong’s theology, rationales, and conclusions to adapting the Christian faith for the modern world.

Spong has clearly come to believe in the conclusions he presents.  As I have said, it is a good summation to his larger written works.  If it were not, I would suggest that this book should have been a multi-volume tome in which he truly takes the ideas presented to task in a way that is not as quick or as simplistic as they are presented here.  What one does find is that in this work, Spong takes for granted that the scientific arguments he puts forward are fact, are inescapable, and that religiosity has nothing to offer. 

Granted, there are clearly places in the Bible that cannot be justified scientifically such as the sun being stilled in the sky in Joshua, the three-tiered universe, or even some of the miracles.  However, their truth is as true as any story in which one finds direction or meaning.  A person who pours over Shakespeare and finds that all of life can be encapsulated in the words of Hamlet or that the Tempest is a parable for living are not refuting the realities of the world, merely defining the world via a particular lens.  So too is the work of religion.  When religion becomes absolute, however, it is dangerous. 

What Spong is arguing for is a non-theistic (perhaps a-theistic) religiosity.  This is not new.  It is, perhaps, one of the more succinct arguments for his point of view.  Combining such ideologies as expressed by Tillich, Hans Küng, and Joseph Fletcher as well as some of the more radical views of Robert Price, though not going as far as he would, Marcus Borg, and Franklin and Shaw (The Case for Christian Humanism).  Spong’s arguments are far more centralized and quickly accessible, but not necessarily original.

Spong is something of a signpost to other authors, though he does not always give them a name or point directly to them, which is a weakness.  This book is a primer for so many other works and a digest of some heavy topics within the Christian academy.  Spong could have used this book as a launching pad for discussion by offering bibliographies at the end of each chapter to point to books that have already discussed his points in depth should the reader wish to explore more.  Instead, one gets the sense that Spong is attempting to pass his conclusions off as something new.  They are not.  They are, likely, summations of his larger and previous works.  These works may have indeed provided the bibliography or suggestions for further readings.  Unbelievable does not and is, therefore, a weaker work.

The writing style of this book has some flaws.  There is a sense of delayed gratification with the opening chapters as Spong lays out the issues he will set out to tackle.  He sets up more and more questions like a History Channel docu-series before a commercial break: “Could this be the proof of King David in Jerusalem?  Does this tomb hold the bones of Jesus?”  This may be, in part, because his Thesis 3-8 all, in some fashion, are extrapolations of Thesis 2.  Thesis 3 is more fully answered in Thesis 6.  This could have reduced his thesis from the Biblical number 12 down to 6 or less if he had pulled them all into tighter groupings. 

What this leads to is a book that is unbalanced.  Some of the works are strong and well thought out, but others, especially Thesis 5, 7-8 are lackluster, quick, and seem quickly thrown together.  Some of these passages have great passion, especially his thesis on ethics.  His arguments about prayer, life after death, and his conclusion therein are more personal (perhaps more pastoral) than scholarly.  This is not to denigrate them, but to point out that there is passion here, but that doesn’t always make for a good argument.  It is more his own personal conclusions than it is a reasoned-out articulation of an argument such as he offered in the passages about God or ethics.

Likewise, his quick nods to textual critical approaches to the Bible, Darwin, Freud, and the “irrationality” of some of the Christian doctrines are, it seems, expected to be enough to convince the reader.  What we find is that Spong is writing from the point of view of someone who is already convinced of the merit of his argument, but does not, apparently, wish to share all of his work in reaching those conclusions.  He couldn’t have done so and hoped to have created a popular best-seller.  To that end, a book like James the Brother of Jesus by Robert Eisenman which clocks in at a massive 950+ pages is a profound work of scholarship with profound implications but not a page turner or a tome written for the New York Times booklist.  Spong throws out only enough to give credence to his views, and hints that in some of his previous books, he took more time in formulating the arguments than he has for this one.

As for his opening argument, Spong was not attempting to provide a roadmap to a new Church.  “I am not ready to surrender Christianity to a secular future.  I am not willing to abandon the Christ experience, which I still find real, simply because the words traditionally used to describe that experience no longer translate meaningfully into the language of our day.”[7]  However, by the end of the book, one wonders just what Spong would consider a modern Christianity.  Like some early critiques of Christianity during the time in which it was seeking to articulate itself within the bounds of Judaism, if what you suggest is a radical redefinition of the latter to explain the former, then you aren’t talking about the same thing anymore.  Likewise, to say that you were a capitalist as defined by a communist reading, one has to conclude that you really weren’t a traditional capitalist at all.

Spong seems to want to have his cake and eat it too.  To remove all that he suggests within his book is to so deplete the Church of traditions that there is little that remains to connect what is left with the ancient church at all.  In his suggesting to be rid of supernaturalism, he throws out the ritual and liturgical uses of the Biblical texts.  One need not accept them as literal – a claim Spong does make repeatedly.  But one doesn’t have to excise them as Jefferson did to find meaning within them.  Spong surely wouldn’t seek to remove the fantastic from Aesop’s fables because to do so removes the point.  However, given this example, Spong would say that if we can read Aesop’s fables without feeling the need to take them literally, we can find meaning.  Likewise, Spong is arguing, we can engage the Christian faith without the need for literalization or supernaturalism.  Yet, as he tends to do, his recommendations are more of a carpet bomb approach than that of a scalpel. 

In review, there are other books and authors that articulate similar ideas as that of Spong.  None, it would seem, offer the radical push that Spong seeks, otherwise he would need not have written.  Like the opening verses of the Gospel of Luke, “it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you.”[8]  As such, it could be better.

Spong was intending to write a closing book to his career.  This is it, though it could have been stronger.  This feels more of an extended epilogue than it does a self-sustaining work.  If one were to read it as a series of farewell sermons, on the other hand, then the book would be exceedingly provocative.  As it is, it seems more of a pastoral musing on a series of theological arguments which are quickly indexed and should point to a larger reading list as well as a deeper appreciation of the fact that for many reading this, it will be something of a first exposure to ideas that have long circulated.  However, given the style of Spong’s writing, it feels less like an introduction than a conclusion.  “I decided that the time had come to put all those theses together in a primer – this book – and to invite a vigorous debate.”[9]Perhaps that is how he intended it to be read.





[1]  Spong p. 13.
[2]  Ibid p. 4-5.
[3]  Ibid p. 7.
[4]  Ibid p. 25.
[5]  Ibid.
[6]  Ibid p. 26.
[7]  Spong p. 14.
[8]  Luke 1:3
[9]  Spong p. 14.

Unbelievable
John Shelby Spong
2018
San Francisco: HarperOne
336 pages


Wednesday, May 9, 2018

A Wrinkle in Time


With the recent release of the movie "A Wrinkle In Time," I thought I might take a moment to look back on the book.

"A Wrinkle in Time" by Madeleine L'Engle first hit the shelves in 1962.  I wouldn't hear about it until my mother read it to me in the early 70s.  I do remember that I was enthralled with the story.  It was part fantasy, part science fiction, and part theology.  The story centers around Meg Murry and her brother Charles Wallace Murry as they encounter strange neighbors in their tiny, remote town in Connecticut.

The character of Charles Wallace is an interesting one.  He is only five, but has the vocabulary and intellect of a much older genius.  He, of all the characters, is perhaps ironically the most rational.  In some cases, his attitudes and actions reflect a person more akin to the Star Trek Vulcan Mr. Spock.  Meg, on the other hand, can be quite the emotional wreck.  At times, she is her own worst enemy and Charles can be too distant.

Added to the mix is the athletic Calvin O'Keefe, a young man who embodies athleticism, but comes from a terrible home life.  These three, Calvin, Meg, and Charles Wallace embark on a strange quest to find Meg and Charles' missing father.

Here is the bigger plot: Mr. Murry has disappeared.  Both Mr. Murry and his wife Kate are brilliant scientists working for the government.  Mr. Murry has disappeared and the Murry family have no idea as to his whereabouts.  As it will turn out, he has been whisked off to another planet through a method of travel known as the tesseract, a means of bending time and space to travel a great distance in a short time (and for Marvel Comics fans, this word is sometimes applied to the Cosmic Cube - a major plot device in the more recent Marvel movies).  Unfortunately, he is trapped and cannot return.

The children, sneaking out into the night, find themselves meeting the closest neighbors they have in a remote and seemingly abandoned house.  The neighbors, suspected to be either eccentric sisters, homeless squatters, or perhaps even witches, turn out to be something far more spectacular than that: they are stars - as in the thing that the earth orbits.  More importantly, they are powerful and ancient creatures who only take on human appearance in an attempt to contact Meg and her brother Charles Wallace.  It is they who will enable the three children to venture through the tesseract and eventually find Mr. Murry.

I won't go into to much more detail about that plot, but I will say that what they find on the planet on which Mr. Murry is trapped is not the kind of planet one would associate with evil.  It is a well ordered, meticulously structured society in which there is nothing but conformity.  One thinks it may be a reference to communism given the time in which L'Engle wrote.  However, it is far more of the Orwellian dystopia: the end result of a totalitarian dictatorship obsessed with security.  In that respect, there is something still chillingly modern about this story.

As I remembered it, I found that the story was imaginative and accessible.

At least it was in the 1970s.  After re-reading the book just a few months ago, I found that I didn't identify with the characters as I had when I was a child.  Perhaps because this was and is a children's book.  Sometimes those ideas just aren't as easy to access with an older mind.  I did also find that the main character was hard to get behind.  She would often refuse to allow explanations to sink in and would react strongly towards things beyond her control with what would seem to be over-emotive episodes.

However, it is her emotion, especially her willingness to love her brother Charles Wallace, that breaks from the conformity of the dark powers that control the alien planet.  It is also their childishness that enables them to speak the truth about the situations around them in a way that the conforming adults of the lands cannot.  In that respect, I found that the story still holds up rather well.

The other issue is that of the theology of the book.  This is where some might have the bigger difficulty with the book.

L'Engle's work is quite similar to C.S. Lewis in his "Chronicles of Narnia" series.  It is best described as a liberal or progressive Christian view, a term that, in 1962, meant something quite different from 2018.  Her prominent theme seems to stem from the Gospel of John, a book quoted in "A Wrinkle in Time" by the star-creatures as they try to explain the larger (universal) struggle between good and evil.  Jesus is named, as are Moses and Buddha - all as exemplars of righteousness.  For some Christians, including anyone else with Jesus is too far.  But within the narrative, the point is that the exemplars of righteousness are just that: exemplars.  L'Engle makes no claim that one is equal to or greater than another.  They are exemplars and are therefore worthy of veneration and emulation.

But more modern conservative Christians would likely balk at the use of crystal balls (even if it is by an alien), witches, or the idea that science and religion need not be opposing forces.  In fact, the point is larger than that: science and religion can work towards a common good and for the betterment of humanity as well as working against that which is evil or promotes darkness.

As I re-read "A Wrinkle in Time" I found myself not as taken with it as I was when I was about the same age as the character Meg.  But I didn't find it impossible to read or difficult to appreciate.  In fact, what I found was that L'Engle wrote a book for an educated reader.  The biblical quotes, the passages from Latin, the references to world classics were not dropped in to "smarten" the book.  They were there because there was an expectation that the reader was one who read to elevate themselves and their minds.  It may be a children's story, but it wasn't dumbed down to say the least.

What I also found was that I was interested in reading the other books that dealt with the Murry family that L'Engle had written.  Like Garrison Keillor, L'Engle created more than just characters, she created a world in which she continued to write for all ages.

I would also add that the book is probably still too much to be able to effectively make into a movie.  There are too many themes and too much expectation on the education of the audience.  The book will likely always outshine any theatrical attempt.

A Wrinkle in Time
Madeleine L'Engle
(There are several editions of the book.  The one I re-read and described above was from the following publisher)
Harrisburg: Square Fish, 2007
232 pages



Friday, February 9, 2018

They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky


Between 1987 and 1989, thousands and thousands of children, many who were young boys, traveled on foot to flee from the brutality of the civil war in Sudan.  Those children became known as "The Lost Boys."

In 2005, the book They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky came out detailing the plight and trials of three of these young boys.

I bring it to your attention now because the crisis behind the story, the civil war in Sudan, is still a crisis that threatens that country.  The United Methodist Church - in particular the Holston Conference of the United Methodist Church - has taken special interest in this part of the world and its struggles.  We still send mission teams, pastors, volunteers, doctors, and aid to Sudan.  But for many, we have forgotten the struggles and the trials that created such a humanitarian crisis.

And with the growing number of refugees from wars and violence across the world, this book should probably be back on our radar.

I found this book to be an engrossing read.  It is full of suspense, danger, escapes, and close shaves.  If it were an action film, it would be tremendous.  Yet when we come to realize that this was a real story, a real series of events, the idea of an action film becomes a thin means of escaping the brutality that this really happened.

The struggles these boys went through is almost beyond belief.  They had to endure hatred, warfare, the elements, the heat, and all without knowing what awaited them, if anything, across the next patch of sun-baked land.  It is truly an amazing story and one that will have you both inspired by the resilience and tenacity of these young men and the triumph of the human spirit as well as brought to tears by the fact that humans can treat one another so horribly.

It presents a story of life that many of us will likely never know or have to know.  Yet it makes one wonder - how would I fare in such conditions?  How would I hope to be treated?  Likewise, it makes one ask, "How do I treat the stranger?  The sojourner?  The refugee?"

Towards the end of the book, there is the story of some of the survivors in a Sunday School class.

"The children danced, narrated poems, and composed a lot of simple but reasonably good songs to entertain the audience.  My favorite song was the one below.  To sing it, the teacher stood in front of the children who were organized into groups representing continents or countries.  The teacher began the song by asking the question.  'Who are you?'

One group of children would answer, 'We are the Africans.
And you?
We are the Asians.
And you?
We are the Americans.
And you?
We are the Australians.
And you?
We are the Europeans.
And you?
We are the Arabians.
Forget those names.  We are all the children of God."

Perhaps if we could learn this lesson, stories such as They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky would become a thing of the past.

I would encourage you to visit the website for the book and for the Lost Boys of Sudan who continue to speak around the world.  It can be found at www.theypouredfire.com

They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky
Benson Deng, Alephonsion Deng, Benjamin Ajak, with Judy Bernstein
New York: PublicAffairs
312 pages