By Roy Ciampa, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament
During the recent presidential campaign there were several references to the political “silly season” – that stage in election campaigning when candidates (or, more frequently, their ) say outrageous things about their opponents in the hopes of spreading fear or misinformation that would move their opponent into a dehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.giffensive mode. There is a seasonal silly season, a political silly season and at least a couple of theological silly seasons: the periods before Christmas and Easter. On March 23 I received an email from Time Magazine with a list of the “10 Most Popular Stories of the Week.” The http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifstory on the top of the list? “Scholar Claims Dead Sea Scrolls 'Authors' Never Existed.” This is a pretty silly piece that really has nothing to do with the Christian faith. It is about an Israeli scholar, Rachel Elior (whose views on several issues are , who denies the Essenes (an ancient Jewish sect thought to have produced the Dead Sea Scrolls) ever existed. It can only be for the sake of sensationalism that we are told that the scholar’s theory “has landed like a bombshell in the cloistered world of biblical scholarship.”
Bombshell? Haven’t even heard a firecracker recently, and it’s not because I’m deaf or not listening. The author bases her claim, it seems on the grounds that “the Essenes make no mention of themselves” anywhere in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Not that the authors of the scrolls don’t ever refer to themselves, but they don’t use the term “Essenes” when they do. To the credit of the author of the article, he points out that “James Charlesworth, director of the Dead Sea Scrolls project at Princeton Theological Seminary and an expert on Josephus, says it is not unusual that the word Essenes does not appear in the scrolls. ‘It's a foreign label,’ he tells TIME. ‘When they refer to themselves, it's as “men of holiness” or “sons of light.”’” Professor Elior, for her part, suggests those who disagree with her “should read the Dead Sea Scrolls — all 39 volumes. The proof is there.” But those who disagree happen to be experts on the Dead Sea Scrolls. And one wonders how carefully she has read the scrolls. Has she never noticed that the authors of the scrolls never mention the Pharisees or Sadducees by name either (it seems the former are referred to as “those who seek smooth things” (people who look for easy interpretations to avoid the rigorous teachings of the Law)? Perhaps we should conclude that neither of those groups ever existed either?
While this “bombshell” is supposed to be shaking up our understanding of Judaism in Jesus’s day, it hardly merits serious academic interest, in my opinion. And it really has nothing to do with Jesus or the Christian faith. Nevertheless, the editors embed this link in the middle of the online article: (Read "Is This Jesus's Tomb?"). The article about “Jesus’s tomb” was written at the beginning of Lent last year. That’s right – it was last year’s contribution to the http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.giftheological silly season. Evidently they are having a hard time coming up with something nearly as sensational and settled on this strange view about the Essenes and the opportunity to embed a link to last year’s sensational story within it.
But the theological silly season is not necessarily over yet. This may just be the first round. We can expect news reports and television shows intended to exploit the heightened interest in Jesus and the resurrection (or the Christian faith in general) by promoting controversial or sensational claims.
As a Christian I guess I have no right to complain. I have my own sensational and controversial claim to highlight at this time of year and I also hope that heightened interest in the subject will win for this outrageous claim the attention it deserves: That Jesus of Nazareth, who died on a Roman cross 2,000 years ago rose from the dead, appeared to many and then was exalted to the right hand of God the Father and that “God has made this Jesus, whom [we] crucified, both Lord and Messiah" (Act 2:36 TNIV). This message is not one that lasts just until the silly season is over, but has changed the course of history and the course of millions of lives through the centuries. It is a message which has withstood the test of time and which brings a renewal of life and hope to people in every season of life.
This blog is an archive of Gordon-Conwell's (GCTS) faculty blog, Every Thought Captive (2008-2012). It contains posts of Dr. Jeffrey Arthurs, Dr. Maria Boccia, Dr. Roy Ciampa, Dr. John Jefferson Davis, Dr. David Horn, and Dr. Sean McDonough. Other posts with information of interest to alumni of GCTS may be listed occasionally by the Alumni Services office.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Lessons from the Deep
By Jeffrey Arthurs
Professor of Preaching & Communication and Dean of the Chapel
Last June I became a swimmer. I’ve been a consistent exerciser for many years—jogging and weights— but on the advice of my wife and chiropractor, I switched to swimming. Eyeing my stature and bulk, my chiropractor commented that brontosauruses spent a lot of time in the water to help bear their weight.
Last February I preached a short series on financial stewardship, and one of my main emphases was generosity. Of course, I meant generosity with money and possessions, but the Lord recently broadened that application for me.
When I swim, I hate sharing a lane. Because I’m as large as a brontosaurus, I don’t fit well with another swimmer in a single lane. My strokes sweep out to fill the whole shebang, so that when the other swimmer passes me, going the opposite direction, I have to time my stroke so that I’m sweeping in, not out. This probably adds a milli-second to my ordeal each time I pass the swimmer. I hate milli-seconds. Furthermore, the other swimmer makes waves, and these jostle me, adding more milli-seconds.
So when I’m in my own lane, happy as a bronto in the primeval ooze, and the pool is full, and a new swimmer enters the pool area, I dread the inevitable. He walks up to me, makes eye contact, and asks if he can share my lane. Of course, I say yes, but my heart throws a little hissy fit.
But it recently hit me—I need to be generous not only with money, but with swimming lanes. I need to have compassion on poor, lowly, downcast, laneless swimmers. I’ve been one myself. I need to welcome eye contact, not avoid it. I need to share out of my bounty. That was Jesus’ way.
What lanes do you need to share?
Professor of Preaching & Communication and Dean of the Chapel
Last June I became a swimmer. I’ve been a consistent exerciser for many years—jogging and weights— but on the advice of my wife and chiropractor, I switched to swimming. Eyeing my stature and bulk, my chiropractor commented that brontosauruses spent a lot of time in the water to help bear their weight.
Last February I preached a short series on financial stewardship, and one of my main emphases was generosity. Of course, I meant generosity with money and possessions, but the Lord recently broadened that application for me.
When I swim, I hate sharing a lane. Because I’m as large as a brontosaurus, I don’t fit well with another swimmer in a single lane. My strokes sweep out to fill the whole shebang, so that when the other swimmer passes me, going the opposite direction, I have to time my stroke so that I’m sweeping in, not out. This probably adds a milli-second to my ordeal each time I pass the swimmer. I hate milli-seconds. Furthermore, the other swimmer makes waves, and these jostle me, adding more milli-seconds.
So when I’m in my own lane, happy as a bronto in the primeval ooze, and the pool is full, and a new swimmer enters the pool area, I dread the inevitable. He walks up to me, makes eye contact, and asks if he can share my lane. Of course, I say yes, but my heart throws a little hissy fit.
But it recently hit me—I need to be generous not only with money, but with swimming lanes. I need to have compassion on poor, lowly, downcast, laneless swimmers. I’ve been one myself. I need to welcome eye contact, not avoid it. I need to share out of my bounty. That was Jesus’ way.
What lanes do you need to share?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Patrick Smith, Palliative Care, and Religious Pluralism
Dr. John Jefferson Davis, PhD
Professor of Systematic Theology and Christian Ethics
Recently I had the pleasure of chatting with one of our new faculty members, Prof. Patrick Smith, who was in town to teach his weekend course in Cultural Apologetics at our Boston campus. Patrick, who is completing his dissertation at Wayne State University on religious epistemology in the context of religious pluralism, will be on campus on a full-time basis next fall teaching courses in apologetics, philosophy of religion, and systematic theology. Our conversation ranged over a wide range of topics, including natural law theory, the challenge of naturalism to Christian belief, the philosophical implications of the “multiverse” hypothesis, and much more.
I would like to bring to your attention two of Patrick’s recent articles that we discussed, one on medical ethics, and the other on religious pluralism. In the article “Puling the Sheet Back Down: a Response to Battin on the Practice of Terminal Sedation,” to be submitted to the Hastings Center Report, a leading journal of medical ethics, Prof. Smith and his co-author make a crucial clarification of terminology between “palliative sedation” and “terminal sedation”, arguing cogently that “
palliative” (pain relieving) sedation is crucially different in intent than a “terminal” sedation that could be intended to cause the patient’s death, and so constitute an act of physician-assisted suicide or euthanasia. Prof. Smith serves as a medical ethics consultant to the Angela Hospice Care Center in the Detroit area, and will bring to our school additional expertise in the areas of end-of-life treatment and medical ethics.
Patrick’s other article, “The Plurality of Religious Pluralism: Clarifying the Terms,” written for a forthcoming issue of Modern Reformation, makes some very helpful distinctions between three different senses of “religious pluralism”: the sociological fact of religious diversity; the legal sense of freedom of religious belief and practice; and the philosophical and theological belief that “all religions lead to the same God or salvation,” or the like. Smith points out that senses one and two pose no principial threat to Christian faith, but that the third sense must be challenged on the basis of the clear biblical witness to the uniqueness of Jesus Christ as the one way of salvation. The article demonstrates the usefulness of the tools of analytical philosophy in clarifying language in the service of Christian faith.
If you are interested in either of these articles, you could email Prof. Smith at psmith@gcts.edu, and ask for a copy. Be sure to welcome Prof. Smith to our campus when you see him in the months ahead.
Professor of Systematic Theology and Christian Ethics
Recently I had the pleasure of chatting with one of our new faculty members, Prof. Patrick Smith, who was in town to teach his weekend course in Cultural Apologetics at our Boston campus. Patrick, who is completing his dissertation at Wayne State University on religious epistemology in the context of religious pluralism, will be on campus on a full-time basis next fall teaching courses in apologetics, philosophy of religion, and systematic theology. Our conversation ranged over a wide range of topics, including natural law theory, the challenge of naturalism to Christian belief, the philosophical implications of the “multiverse” hypothesis, and much more.
I would like to bring to your attention two of Patrick’s recent articles that we discussed, one on medical ethics, and the other on religious pluralism. In the article “Puling the Sheet Back Down: a Response to Battin on the Practice of Terminal Sedation,” to be submitted to the Hastings Center Report, a leading journal of medical ethics, Prof. Smith and his co-author make a crucial clarification of terminology between “palliative sedation” and “terminal sedation”, arguing cogently that “
palliative” (pain relieving) sedation is crucially different in intent than a “terminal” sedation that could be intended to cause the patient’s death, and so constitute an act of physician-assisted suicide or euthanasia. Prof. Smith serves as a medical ethics consultant to the Angela Hospice Care Center in the Detroit area, and will bring to our school additional expertise in the areas of end-of-life treatment and medical ethics.
Patrick’s other article, “The Plurality of Religious Pluralism: Clarifying the Terms,” written for a forthcoming issue of Modern Reformation, makes some very helpful distinctions between three different senses of “religious pluralism”: the sociological fact of religious diversity; the legal sense of freedom of religious belief and practice; and the philosophical and theological belief that “all religions lead to the same God or salvation,” or the like. Smith points out that senses one and two pose no principial threat to Christian faith, but that the third sense must be challenged on the basis of the clear biblical witness to the uniqueness of Jesus Christ as the one way of salvation. The article demonstrates the usefulness of the tools of analytical philosophy in clarifying language in the service of Christian faith.
If you are interested in either of these articles, you could email Prof. Smith at psmith@gcts.edu, and ask for a copy. Be sure to welcome Prof. Smith to our campus when you see him in the months ahead.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Outsourced Flock
By Sean McDonough, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament
A few years back, a friend of mine was visiting a church plant in the Midwest. When he asked who was going to do the preaching, he was informed that they were planning on using a video feed of the Senior Pastor’s sermons from the mother church. Similar stories abound: well known preachers broadcast their messages into a variety of locations or “campuses”; eloquent speakers deride the poor preaching in many churches and suggest that videos of more competent communicators ought to replace these pitiable orators; local pastoral preaching is easily supplemented (or replaced) by podcasts of stars from around the country.
“Ah, yes” you may now be saying to yourself, “I can feel it coming: another Gordon-Conwell professorial diatribe against anything innovative in the ministry. Let the tirade begin.” But I am happy to report that your suspicions are unfounded. In fact, I want to ask the question: Why stop with the video pastor?
Let’s say you are able to beam in the very best contemporary evangelical preaching into your church. You are still almost invariably stuck with a very mediocre congregation. All those delectable words are liable to fall into the mouths of theological Philistines unworthy of the repast put before them. Our virtual Pericles is saddled with a motley assortment of crying babies, bored teenagers, distracted parents, and generally lukewarm and befuddled disciples who are likely to forget most of the main points of the sermon before they even leave the sanctuary. Pearls before swine, indeed.
The solution to this problem is obvious: the Video Congregation. What’s good for the pulpit is good for the pew. Rather than relying on the flotsam and jetsam of our towns and neighborhoods to fill up our churches, we can capture on film the best of the contemporary evangelical laity: a flock of bright, attentive, and note-taking sheep culled from the finest pastures of North America. These well scrubbed digital pilgrims will never grow bored or combative or ask embarrassing questions after the service. They will simply sit and soak in the goodness flowing from the virtual pulpit.
Those, of course, are just a few of the benefits accruing to the church willing to ditch the old model of flesh and blood parishioners and ride the wave of the video congregation. Parking issues, like the congregants themselves, become immaterial. Church attendance problems likewise become a thing of the past. For a slightly higher monthly fee, pastor-facilitators could upgrade from the Family Plan (100-200 eager video parishioners) to Thriving Flock level (2 services of 400 people each) or even advance to Excelsior Club status (3,000-5,000 every Sunday). Current (embodied) church members will appreciate the savings in cost (no more need for troublesome tithes and overpaid staff) and time (Sunday am tee times? No longer a problem!).
One final point: how do we find willing and capable video parishioners? I suggest a televised nationwide talent search. We can have a panel of four celebrity Christian judges who will assess the candidates, and then people from around the country can vote for their favorites. It’s a familiar format, and we might even consider paying Fox to take over the name of their hit show– it would certainly fit well with much of the contemporary church landscape:
American Idol.
Associate Professor of New Testament
A few years back, a friend of mine was visiting a church plant in the Midwest. When he asked who was going to do the preaching, he was informed that they were planning on using a video feed of the Senior Pastor’s sermons from the mother church. Similar stories abound: well known preachers broadcast their messages into a variety of locations or “campuses”; eloquent speakers deride the poor preaching in many churches and suggest that videos of more competent communicators ought to replace these pitiable orators; local pastoral preaching is easily supplemented (or replaced) by podcasts of stars from around the country.
“Ah, yes” you may now be saying to yourself, “I can feel it coming: another Gordon-Conwell professorial diatribe against anything innovative in the ministry. Let the tirade begin.” But I am happy to report that your suspicions are unfounded. In fact, I want to ask the question: Why stop with the video pastor?
Let’s say you are able to beam in the very best contemporary evangelical preaching into your church. You are still almost invariably stuck with a very mediocre congregation. All those delectable words are liable to fall into the mouths of theological Philistines unworthy of the repast put before them. Our virtual Pericles is saddled with a motley assortment of crying babies, bored teenagers, distracted parents, and generally lukewarm and befuddled disciples who are likely to forget most of the main points of the sermon before they even leave the sanctuary. Pearls before swine, indeed.
The solution to this problem is obvious: the Video Congregation. What’s good for the pulpit is good for the pew. Rather than relying on the flotsam and jetsam of our towns and neighborhoods to fill up our churches, we can capture on film the best of the contemporary evangelical laity: a flock of bright, attentive, and note-taking sheep culled from the finest pastures of North America. These well scrubbed digital pilgrims will never grow bored or combative or ask embarrassing questions after the service. They will simply sit and soak in the goodness flowing from the virtual pulpit.
Those, of course, are just a few of the benefits accruing to the church willing to ditch the old model of flesh and blood parishioners and ride the wave of the video congregation. Parking issues, like the congregants themselves, become immaterial. Church attendance problems likewise become a thing of the past. For a slightly higher monthly fee, pastor-facilitators could upgrade from the Family Plan (100-200 eager video parishioners) to Thriving Flock level (2 services of 400 people each) or even advance to Excelsior Club status (3,000-5,000 every Sunday). Current (embodied) church members will appreciate the savings in cost (no more need for troublesome tithes and overpaid staff) and time (Sunday am tee times? No longer a problem!).
One final point: how do we find willing and capable video parishioners? I suggest a televised nationwide talent search. We can have a panel of four celebrity Christian judges who will assess the candidates, and then people from around the country can vote for their favorites. It’s a familiar format, and we might even consider paying Fox to take over the name of their hit show– it would certainly fit well with much of the contemporary church landscape:
American Idol.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
On the Anti-Imperial Abraham and “Unchristian” Christians
By Roy Ciampa, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament
I have been thinking a lot about Abraham lately. In fact, I just finished up an essay on “Abraham and Empire in Galatians” for a forthcoming book (which won’t be out for more than a year). I found myself noticing how often Abraham is mentioned in relationship with powerful kings and cities (Babel, Haran, Ur, Pharaoh, Abimelech, Melchizedek, Chedorlaomer and his allies, etc.) and how he is described in ways that make him look like both an “imperial” figure and an “anti-imperial” figure. By “imperial” I mean those texts that speak of God’s promises to give him a great name and international influence. By “anti-imperial” I mean those texts that suggest a lack of interest in gaining and/or using power to his personal advantage and at the expense of others. Generally speaking he is as far from an oppressive figure as can be found.
Those constructing the tower of Babel were hoping to build one culturally homogenous city-state by which they could “make a name for ourselves” (Gen. 11:4). Abraham shows no sign of any such ambition but God promises him “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great” (Gen. 12:2). When there is conflict with Lot and his men, Abraham takes an open-handed approach and allows Lot to choose the land he prefers (Gen.13:8-12). Abraham rescues Lot and defeats Chedorlaomer and his allied kings in battle but shows no interest in keeping the spoils of war or establishing rule or dominion over the lands of the defeated kings (Gen. 14).
He is also tied to the promises of land and posterity which come to be associated with the hope of redemption and liberation from oppressive powers. A look at the references to Abraham in the psalms and prophets will show how often he is mentioned in conjunction with expressions of hope for redemption (often hope for redemption from oppressive foreign nations): Psa. 47:9; 105:6-9, 42; Isa. 29:22; 41:8; 51:2; 63:16; Jer. 33:26; Ezek. 33:24; Micah 7:20.
It is remarkable to note how often Abraham is associated with rescue and liberation from oppressive powers in the New Testament as well. In the opening of the Gospel of Matthew Abraham is mentioned as one of the four key turning points in the history of Israel, along with David, the Babylonian exile and the Messiah (suggesting the fulfillment of the promises to Abraham and David and the coming of the Messiah will bring Israel’s experience of exile to an end). In the opening chapter of the Gospel of Luke references to Abraham are very explicitly tied to hope for rescue from enemies and from oppressive circumstances (read Luke 1:55 and 1:73 in their near contexts). In Luke 13:11-17 Jesus brings deliverance to “a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years” (v. 11). He describes the woman as “a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years” and what he had done as setting her “free from this bondage” (v. 16).
I encourage you to take some time to read passages that mention Abraham and consider whether or not it might be related to the theme of liberation/freedom from oppression of one kind or another and, if so, how that should inform the behavior and thinking of anyone who recognizes it.
Unfortunately, as David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons demonstrate in their book, Unchristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity-- and Why It Matters (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 2007), Christians are perceived by others as (among other things) people who are all too eager to impose their views and convictions on the rest of the world. In my view that reputation has been earned. We have spent much of the last thirty years watching our influence on the surrounding culture wane as we have sought to win our battles in the legal and political realms. As we have applied our pressure on the power structures of our society we have lost the hearts and minds of those who actually decide what takes place within those structures – our neighbors, co-workers and other (voting) fellow citizens. This is not to argue that we should remove ourselves from political and legal arenas, but to suggest we need to focus much more attention on winning hearts and minds at the grass-roots level and that might start by adopting a more Abrahamic approach, one in which our commitment to bring the freedom and liberation from oppression with which the promises to Abraham are associated in Scripture comes to be recognized as a key to what it means to seek to bring blessing to “all the families of the earth” (Gen. 12:3). Jesus Christ (“the son of Abraham”; Matt. 1:1) demonstrated just that kind of commitment to the power of self-sacrificing love spent for good of others. It was a self-sacrificing love that was a threat to the powers of the day, but was usually perceived as a generous, non-threatening love by the grass roots, and through it the early church (and the church through most of its history) proved to be more effective at winning those hearts and minds which American Christians have been losing as of late.
Associate Professor of New Testament
I have been thinking a lot about Abraham lately. In fact, I just finished up an essay on “Abraham and Empire in Galatians” for a forthcoming book (which won’t be out for more than a year). I found myself noticing how often Abraham is mentioned in relationship with powerful kings and cities (Babel, Haran, Ur, Pharaoh, Abimelech, Melchizedek, Chedorlaomer and his allies, etc.) and how he is described in ways that make him look like both an “imperial” figure and an “anti-imperial” figure. By “imperial” I mean those texts that speak of God’s promises to give him a great name and international influence. By “anti-imperial” I mean those texts that suggest a lack of interest in gaining and/or using power to his personal advantage and at the expense of others. Generally speaking he is as far from an oppressive figure as can be found.
Those constructing the tower of Babel were hoping to build one culturally homogenous city-state by which they could “make a name for ourselves” (Gen. 11:4). Abraham shows no sign of any such ambition but God promises him “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great” (Gen. 12:2). When there is conflict with Lot and his men, Abraham takes an open-handed approach and allows Lot to choose the land he prefers (Gen.13:8-12). Abraham rescues Lot and defeats Chedorlaomer and his allied kings in battle but shows no interest in keeping the spoils of war or establishing rule or dominion over the lands of the defeated kings (Gen. 14).
He is also tied to the promises of land and posterity which come to be associated with the hope of redemption and liberation from oppressive powers. A look at the references to Abraham in the psalms and prophets will show how often he is mentioned in conjunction with expressions of hope for redemption (often hope for redemption from oppressive foreign nations): Psa. 47:9; 105:6-9, 42; Isa. 29:22; 41:8; 51:2; 63:16; Jer. 33:26; Ezek. 33:24; Micah 7:20.
It is remarkable to note how often Abraham is associated with rescue and liberation from oppressive powers in the New Testament as well. In the opening of the Gospel of Matthew Abraham is mentioned as one of the four key turning points in the history of Israel, along with David, the Babylonian exile and the Messiah (suggesting the fulfillment of the promises to Abraham and David and the coming of the Messiah will bring Israel’s experience of exile to an end). In the opening chapter of the Gospel of Luke references to Abraham are very explicitly tied to hope for rescue from enemies and from oppressive circumstances (read Luke 1:55 and 1:73 in their near contexts). In Luke 13:11-17 Jesus brings deliverance to “a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years” (v. 11). He describes the woman as “a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years” and what he had done as setting her “free from this bondage” (v. 16).
I encourage you to take some time to read passages that mention Abraham and consider whether or not it might be related to the theme of liberation/freedom from oppression of one kind or another and, if so, how that should inform the behavior and thinking of anyone who recognizes it.
Unfortunately, as David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons demonstrate in their book, Unchristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity-- and Why It Matters (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 2007), Christians are perceived by others as (among other things) people who are all too eager to impose their views and convictions on the rest of the world. In my view that reputation has been earned. We have spent much of the last thirty years watching our influence on the surrounding culture wane as we have sought to win our battles in the legal and political realms. As we have applied our pressure on the power structures of our society we have lost the hearts and minds of those who actually decide what takes place within those structures – our neighbors, co-workers and other (voting) fellow citizens. This is not to argue that we should remove ourselves from political and legal arenas, but to suggest we need to focus much more attention on winning hearts and minds at the grass-roots level and that might start by adopting a more Abrahamic approach, one in which our commitment to bring the freedom and liberation from oppression with which the promises to Abraham are associated in Scripture comes to be recognized as a key to what it means to seek to bring blessing to “all the families of the earth” (Gen. 12:3). Jesus Christ (“the son of Abraham”; Matt. 1:1) demonstrated just that kind of commitment to the power of self-sacrificing love spent for good of others. It was a self-sacrificing love that was a threat to the powers of the day, but was usually perceived as a generous, non-threatening love by the grass roots, and through it the early church (and the church through most of its history) proved to be more effective at winning those hearts and minds which American Christians have been losing as of late.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Meditations from Florence
By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology and
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling at the Charlotte campus
I am writing this in Florence Italy, where I am attending the annual meetings of the International Society for the Study of Women's Sexual Health (ISSWSH).This represents several challenges: I am writing on a Mac, which is totally alien to me, with software called NèoOffice, which I've never heard of, and it is an Italian keyboard, so it has an unusual configuration in order to accommodate things like à, ù and ò (I keep typing à when I mean '). The greatest challenge, however, may be the internal struggle between attending ISSWSH and being in Florence. To be in such a magnificant city with its wealth of Italian Renaissance art and attend meetings from 8 AM until 6 or 7 PM is a considerable challenge to my self'-discipline. But I would like to share some impressions.
I heard a paper addressing the question of how likely doctors are to take a sexual history from their (female) patients as a function of how much training they had in sexual medicine. The unhappy result was that regardless of their training, only 4-8% would do so. When the presenting problem was sexual in nature, this increased to only 10%. There was a minor increase in the likelihood of asking if it was a gynecologist than general practice doctor. The explanation offered was that doctors don't ask about thngs they cannot treat. I was pretty outraged by both of these findings, as well as by the interpretation. It seems to me that particularly when a sexual problem is presented, the doctor ought to take a sexual history. Even more disturbing was the explanation: there are perfectly fine interventions for dealing with many sexual dysfunctions. These are generally psychotherapeutic interventions, however, and not 'cures' medical doctors administer. The arrogance of being unwilling to enquire about issues that would require a referral strikes me as wrong.
At the start of each paper session, the Italians present a little ditty on art object(s) related to sexuality. I found myself reflecting on the changes in art with the Renaissance. Prior to the Renaissance, art was used to teach about the Faith in the Church. There was not much attention to perspective or anatomical correctness. Renaissance art, however, shifted the focus to the beauty of the human body. Perspective became important, and artists studied anatomy in order to accurately reflect the human body when executing their works of art. The first of these was Donatello's David. There is also Michelangelo's David, the Pieta, etc. Each of these used a biblical character but the goal was to glorify the human body, and by interference, Man.
So where am I going with this? Not too far . . . I'm in Florence! Both of these 'errors' seem obvious to me because they violate some principle to which I hold. Primarily, those principles are about truth: we should always seek it, and we should not violate it ourselves. But what happens when it's not so obvious? What happens when it's my own pet blindspot? I would like to believe that I would pursue truth, speak truth, value truth. But I know I also am a fallen human being and that I don't always live up to my high ideals.
God deserves our worshp, our allegience, ourselves. How often have we done exactly what the Italian Renaissance artists did? Too often we have our own agenda and dress it up on God-talk or Church-talk. Too often as a result, God or the church is maligned as a result, and individuals are hurt or alienated and turn away from the only One who can save them. I pray, with Paul, that I can stay out of the way sufficiently so that the only stumbling block another person will encounter is the cross of Christ. And that means, among other things, being a person who values and pursues truth.
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology and
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling at the Charlotte campus
I am writing this in Florence Italy, where I am attending the annual meetings of the International Society for the Study of Women's Sexual Health (ISSWSH).This represents several challenges: I am writing on a Mac, which is totally alien to me, with software called NèoOffice, which I've never heard of, and it is an Italian keyboard, so it has an unusual configuration in order to accommodate things like à, ù and ò (I keep typing à when I mean '). The greatest challenge, however, may be the internal struggle between attending ISSWSH and being in Florence. To be in such a magnificant city with its wealth of Italian Renaissance art and attend meetings from 8 AM until 6 or 7 PM is a considerable challenge to my self'-discipline. But I would like to share some impressions.
I heard a paper addressing the question of how likely doctors are to take a sexual history from their (female) patients as a function of how much training they had in sexual medicine. The unhappy result was that regardless of their training, only 4-8% would do so. When the presenting problem was sexual in nature, this increased to only 10%. There was a minor increase in the likelihood of asking if it was a gynecologist than general practice doctor. The explanation offered was that doctors don't ask about thngs they cannot treat. I was pretty outraged by both of these findings, as well as by the interpretation. It seems to me that particularly when a sexual problem is presented, the doctor ought to take a sexual history. Even more disturbing was the explanation: there are perfectly fine interventions for dealing with many sexual dysfunctions. These are generally psychotherapeutic interventions, however, and not 'cures' medical doctors administer. The arrogance of being unwilling to enquire about issues that would require a referral strikes me as wrong.
At the start of each paper session, the Italians present a little ditty on art object(s) related to sexuality. I found myself reflecting on the changes in art with the Renaissance. Prior to the Renaissance, art was used to teach about the Faith in the Church. There was not much attention to perspective or anatomical correctness. Renaissance art, however, shifted the focus to the beauty of the human body. Perspective became important, and artists studied anatomy in order to accurately reflect the human body when executing their works of art. The first of these was Donatello's David. There is also Michelangelo's David, the Pieta, etc. Each of these used a biblical character but the goal was to glorify the human body, and by interference, Man.
So where am I going with this? Not too far . . . I'm in Florence! Both of these 'errors' seem obvious to me because they violate some principle to which I hold. Primarily, those principles are about truth: we should always seek it, and we should not violate it ourselves. But what happens when it's not so obvious? What happens when it's my own pet blindspot? I would like to believe that I would pursue truth, speak truth, value truth. But I know I also am a fallen human being and that I don't always live up to my high ideals.
God deserves our worshp, our allegience, ourselves. How often have we done exactly what the Italian Renaissance artists did? Too often we have our own agenda and dress it up on God-talk or Church-talk. Too often as a result, God or the church is maligned as a result, and individuals are hurt or alienated and turn away from the only One who can save them. I pray, with Paul, that I can stay out of the way sufficiently so that the only stumbling block another person will encounter is the cross of Christ. And that means, among other things, being a person who values and pursues truth.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
“Missionary Elenctics”
By Dr. Jeff Arthurs, PhD
I read a great paper recently at an academic conference written by David Ridder. The title is “The Application of Missionary Elenctics to Preaching to Postmoderns.” “Elenctics” was new to me. It comes from the Greek, elencho, “to expose, bring to light, convict.” When missionaries study a culture, they note how the people’s own conscience convicts them. Missiologists often point to Romans 2:14-15 to describe elenctics:
“. . . even though they do not have the law, since they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them. . . . ”
Finding postmodernism’s definition of sin is tough, but maybe not as tough as we might suppose. Ridder demonstrates that American postmoderns do have a sense of right and wrong, and that sense is congruent with parts of biblical revelation. Based on “field research” (conversations with co-workers at a coffee shop) and analysis of pop culture media, Ridder identifies four elenctic themes. I’ll give you two, and you can guess the other two:
Power is attractive, but it has a dark side which ensnares us. Think of the current fad of superhero movies: Spiderman 3, Dark Knight, Ironman, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. These movies still have silly comic book qualities, but the genre sure has grown up. The good guys, fascinated with power, realize that a thin line separates them from the bad guys. Watch Oprah and notice how often the theme of power emerges. We want it, but we must use it responsibly, and often we don’t.
Something is wrong with this world, and maybe its me! In the book Wicked, Gregory Maquire, a prominent voice of postmodernism, has one of his characters give voice to the first part of this theme: “We don’t embrace violence but we don’t deny its existence—how can we deny it when its effects are all around us? That kind of denial is sin, if anything is.” A movie like Blood Diamond explores both parts of the theme. The evils associated with the diamond mining industry hit home with pomos because they feel genuine angst for partnering with such industries. In other words, when some pomos buy diamonds, they feel like are making the world a worse place, not better. The OT prophets would agree with that sense of guilt.
Let’s think like missionaries as we minister in our own country. Remember your elenctics.
I read a great paper recently at an academic conference written by David Ridder. The title is “The Application of Missionary Elenctics to Preaching to Postmoderns.” “Elenctics” was new to me. It comes from the Greek, elencho, “to expose, bring to light, convict.” When missionaries study a culture, they note how the people’s own conscience convicts them. Missiologists often point to Romans 2:14-15 to describe elenctics:
“. . . even though they do not have the law, since they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them. . . . ”
Finding postmodernism’s definition of sin is tough, but maybe not as tough as we might suppose. Ridder demonstrates that American postmoderns do have a sense of right and wrong, and that sense is congruent with parts of biblical revelation. Based on “field research” (conversations with co-workers at a coffee shop) and analysis of pop culture media, Ridder identifies four elenctic themes. I’ll give you two, and you can guess the other two:
Power is attractive, but it has a dark side which ensnares us. Think of the current fad of superhero movies: Spiderman 3, Dark Knight, Ironman, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. These movies still have silly comic book qualities, but the genre sure has grown up. The good guys, fascinated with power, realize that a thin line separates them from the bad guys. Watch Oprah and notice how often the theme of power emerges. We want it, but we must use it responsibly, and often we don’t.
Something is wrong with this world, and maybe its me! In the book Wicked, Gregory Maquire, a prominent voice of postmodernism, has one of his characters give voice to the first part of this theme: “We don’t embrace violence but we don’t deny its existence—how can we deny it when its effects are all around us? That kind of denial is sin, if anything is.” A movie like Blood Diamond explores both parts of the theme. The evils associated with the diamond mining industry hit home with pomos because they feel genuine angst for partnering with such industries. In other words, when some pomos buy diamonds, they feel like are making the world a worse place, not better. The OT prophets would agree with that sense of guilt.
Let’s think like missionaries as we minister in our own country. Remember your elenctics.
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