In Judges 6:32, when the Lord's "Valiant Warrior" Gideon destroys the altar of Baal that was in Orphah, he earns himself the nickname "Jerubbaal." Jerubbaal is a combination of the Hebrew name baal, and the verb rı̂yb-- to contend or strive with. It means essentially: Let Baal contend with him, and when you put the name in the context of the story, the meaning is clear. Gideon has knocked down the altar of Baal, a competitor in the people's hearts for the glory due to YHWH; if Baal is indeed true god, then let him contend with Gideon. This nickname is a challenge to Baal's legitimacy as direct and as poignant as the contest with the priests of Baal that Elijah had on Mt. Carmel (1 Kings 18:20ff).
And when you consider that the act of vandalism which earned Gideon his nickname was actually his first step in leading the Lord's Army against the invading Midianite horde, it also becomes a profoundly political statement. If Israel is going to be victorious in its struggle, it will take a radical purge of anything that stands between then and single-minded devotion to YHWH, fancy altars to Baal be damned.
Let Baal himself contend with us, if Baal doesn't like it.
But here's the curious thing I've been mulling over this morning. Later, after YHWH has trounced and routed the Midianites, the tribe of Ephraim complains that General Gideon didn't call on them to join in the fight (See 8:1). This is interesting on a number of levels. First, Gideon is from the half tribe of Manasseh, the half tribe for which Ephraim forms the other half. So that's curious: there is a close kinship between Gideon and the men of Ephraim. More curious still is the motive behind Ephraim's complaint. Judging by the tack Gideon takes in placating them, speaking self-deprecatingly, and then flattering them with that line about how the "grapes of Ephraim" are better than the "Wine of Abiezer" (8:2)), it seems like the reason they're put out has to do with their sense of honour. By not including them in the fight, Gideon has shamed them, or at the very least, denied them the opportunity to win glory for themselves in battle.
That's curious to me especially because in 8:1 it says that (again, presumably because of their loss of tribal honour) the men of Ephraim "contended with Gideon vigorously." And the word translated "contended with" there? You guessed it: rı̂yb. The same rı̂yb that gave Gideon the nickname Jerubbaal-- let Baal contend with him.
In 6:32, Gideon tears down the altar of a competitor for YHWH's glory, leaving his friends dumbstruck and earning himself the title: Jerubbaal. "Let Baal contend (rı̂yb) with him." And then in 8:1, after the battle's been fought and won, Baal does indeed, one might say, contend (rı̂yb) with Gideon-- through the contentious vainglory of his closest countrymen. At least: if Baal represents those things that compete in our hearts for the glory due to YHWH, then Ephraim's complaint that Gideon denied them a chance to win glory for themselves, whatever else it is, is Baalistic to the core. When they contend with Gideon for letting YHWH win the glory instead of sharing it with them--whatever else is going on there--that is certainly the spirit of Baal, if not Baal himself, contending with Gideon.
The reason this matters to me is because it suggests that the real enemy in Gideon's fight against the Midianites was not the Midianites at all. Gideon was actually leading a struggle against the "Baal-within"-- the spirit of Baalism in us, that prompts us to steal for ourselves the glory that belongs to the Lord alone (read the rest of Chapter 8, if you're not convinced). When I consider Gideon's war in this light, the story suddenly rings sharply and prohpetically in my ears.
Could it be that the greatest struggle in the Christian life is actually against the Baal within?
Sometimes Christians can move into "crusade mode" when it comes to things happening in the culture, resisting and entrenching and contending for causes with all the zeal of an Ephraimite after a retreating Midianite horde. Sometimes churches can. Sometimes, maybe, you've seen it. And if this is ringing any bells for you, then let Ephraim's contention with Gideon ring louder and clearer. The struggle against godlessness "out there" is really a struggle against the Baal within.
Contending Against the Baal Within
Musical Mondays (XIII)
Here's another song from "echoes" to start your week off. The song grew out of that opening riff, which came to me one day when I was practicing some scale patterns. It hooked me enough that I figured: there's got to be a song in there somewhere, and I kept playing it till something more substantial bobbed to the surface. Bonus points to anyone who gets the hommage in the bridge. If the audio player doesn't load below you can click the title to download the song. Enjoy.
You Said (Seeking You)
You said, if we would seek you we would find you
If we sought you with all of our heart
You said if we would call you, you would answer
If we called you with all that we are
You said, if we would ask you, you would grant it
If we asked you according to your will
You said if we would seek you we would find you
If we knocked you would open the door
chorus:
We are seeking you with all of our heart Lord
We are seeking you with all of our mind
We are seeking you with all of our strength Lord
Leaving the treasures of this world far behind
Theology and Technology, a Reading List
One of the issues the Free Methodist Church in Canada's Study Commission on Doctrine is tackling these days is the "theology of technology," which is our way of asking questions like these: In what ways should the Bible inform and guide our use of technology in the modern world? What are some of the key theological issues that should colour our perspective on technology? What theological issues does the ubiquity of electronic communication technologies raise for us? What ethical issues? What faith issues?
Since I'm part of the group that has been tasked to do some research along these lines, I'm hoping to use this bloggin space once in a while to air out some ideas, work through some reflections and generally think out loud when it comes to the theology of technology. For starters , I thought I'd post my current "technology reading list" to give you an idea of some of the work that's already been done in this area, and to suggest trajectories for my own thinking about the issue. The attached "jacket blurbs" come almost word for word from www.goodreads.com. The asterisks mark books I've already read.
The Theology of Technology: An annotated Bibligoraphy
“ The advance of modern technology is certainly ambiguous. It has promised less work and more leisure, but we actually work longer hours than premodern peasants and villagers. Present-day Western societies are facing a moral crisis, argues Murray Jardine, and our inability to make ethical sense of technology is at the root of this crisis. Jardine shows how Christianity fostered an ethic of progress that led to our technological expertise. However, Christians never fully grasped the implications of technological progress and failed to create an ethic that embraced unconditional grace. Jardine advocates a Christianity that fully understands technology, its responsibilities, and its possibilities.”
“In this witty, often terrifying work of cultural criticism, the author of Amusing Ourselves to Death chronicles our transformation into a Technopoly: a society that no longer merely uses technology as a support system but instead is shaped by it--with radical consequences for the meanings of politics, art, education, intelligence, and truth.”
Waters, Brent. From Human to Posthuman: Christian Theology And Technology in a Postmodern World. Hampshire England: Ashgate, 2006.
"Technology is one of the dominant forces shaping the emerging postmodern world. Indeed the very fabric of daily life is dependent upon various information, communication, and transportation technologies. With anticipated advances in biotechnology, artificial intelligence, and robotics, that dependence will increase. Yet this growing dependence is accompanied with a deep ambivalence. For many, technology symbolises the faith of the postmodern world, but it is an ambivalent faith encapsulating both our hopes and fears for the future. This book examines the religious foundations underlying this troubled faith in technology, as well as critically and constructively engaging particular technological developments from a theological perspective."
"Our ancestors saw the material world as alive, and they often personified nature. Today we claim to be realists. But in reality we are not paying attention to the symbols and myths hidden in technology. Beneath much of our talk about computers and the Internet, claims William A. Stahl, is an unacknowledged mysticism, an implicit religion. By not acknowledging this mysticism, we have become critically short of ethical and intellectual resources with which to understand and confront changes brought on by technology."
"'Is Google making us stupid?'” When Nicholas Carr posed that question in a celebrated Atlantic Monthly cover story, he tapped into a well of anxiety about how the Internet is changing us. He also crystallized one of the most important debates of our time: As we enjoy the Net’s bounties, are we sacrificing our ability to read and think deeply? Now Carr expands his argument into the most compelling exploration of the Internet’s intellectual and cultural consequences yet published. Weaving insights from philosophy, neuroscience, and history into a rich narrative, The Shallows explains how the Net is rerouting our neural pathways, replacing the subtle mind of the book reader with the distracted mind of the screen watcher. A gripping story of human transformation played out against a backdrop of technological upheaval, The Shallows will forever alter the way we think about media and our minds."
"Consider Facebook—it’s human contact, only easier to engage with and easier to avoid. Developing technology promises closeness. Sometimes it delivers, but much of our modern life leaves us less connected with people and more connected to simulations of them.
"In Alone Together, MIT technology and society professor Sherry Turkle explores the power of our new tools and toys to dramatically alter our social lives. It’s a nuanced exploration of what we are looking for—and sacrificing—in a world of electronic companions and social networking tools, and an argument that, despite the hand-waving of today’s self-described prophets of the future, it will be the next generation who will chart the path between isolation and connectivity."
Parkin Grant, George. Technology and Justice. House of Annasi Press, 1991.4 ways a Middle Earth Worldview is more Biblical
... than our own. What with The Hobbit's release piquing fresh interest in all things Tolkien at our house, prompting a family movie marathon through the Lord of the Rings and inspiring my daughter to muscle her way through all three books in about two weeks, I've got Middle Earth on the brain these days.
One of the things that struck me forcibly this time through the series, and especially as I unpacked them with our kids, is how different the worldview of the book is from our own. "Worldview" is a way of describing the psychological underpinnings, the cultural values, the epistemological framework, and the philosophical assumptions that unconsciously guide the way we interact with the world.
The worldview of our modern, western world, for instance, tends to seek instant gratification, places a premium on the image, takes a mechanistic approach to nature, has an evolutionary outlook on life and society, values self-expression and individuality, gives epistemological authority to screens, numbers, results and speed, sees the self as ultimate and the latest as best.
Realizing that each one of the above statements is loaded far beyond the ability of a mere blogpost to unpack, let me just suggest that these things-- instant gratification, the image as prime, nature as machine, the individual as ultimate-- these things are different from a biblical worldview. When the writers of the Bible looked at the world, they felt different things were of utmost importance. They made different assumptions about how things worked and what you could reasonable expect out of life. They drew meaning from different source. They concluded things were "true" based on different criteria.
And then, as an experiment in "worldview studies," let me point out some ways the worldview of the inhabitants of Middle Earth is also very different from our own, but curiously (even unexpectedly) very much like the Bible's.
1. Older is better. When Tolkien points out that something is old, it's usually said with reverence, awe, humility and deference; indeed, some of his most poetical passages are devoted simply to describing the age of something. This is because in a Middle Earth worldview, older is proven; older is wiser; older is tested; older is true. Our world tends to see the newest and youngest as best-- fresher, original, more innovative--but this is neither a universal nor especially a biblical assumption. Generally speaking the Bible's worldview, like Tolkien, sees age as venerable (It's not for nothing He's called the Ancient of Days).
2. Nature is deeply alive. One of the brilliant aspects of Tolkien's book, I think, is the way he spiritualizes nature without deifying it. He draws out the deep-down "aliveness" of the natural world without slipping into the ditch of paganism. In our worldview, we tend to view nature as a dead, cause-and-effect machine that is ours to tinker with (witness the latest talk about "bioengineering" or "geoengineering"). Not so in Middle Earth, where trees, rocks, rivers and creatures alike are vibrant with a life that give them intrinsic worth. Though it's sometimes overlooked, this too is a biblical worldview. When Isaiah talks about the trees of the hills clapping their hands and the mountains breaking forth into song, it's a metaphor, but it's no mere metaphor.
3. Song and Story are authoritative. No war council in the modern world would have begun by recounting in full detail the story of the enemy's chief weapon, reviewing all the twists of fate and turns of history that brought the allies to the point they find themselves at. But that is precisely where Elrond starts with the war council of Rivendell, on the assumption that the decisions of the council depend precisely upon their hearing this story. It always struck me that in the book, great emphasis is placed on Aragorn's ability to recite the legends, songs, lore and stories of Middle Earth, as though his claim to the throne rested as much on this as it did on his skills with a sword. That none of Aragorn's songs make it into the modern film adaptation of the book is evidence itself that our world draws "epistemological authority" from other sources.
4. Fellowship, Community and Fealty are profoundly humanizing. When Merry is sworn in as a guard of Gondor, Denethor promises to reward his "fealty with honour." When Theoden musters his cavalry for their glorious charge onto the plains of Minas Tirith, he calls on the men to fulfill "oaths they have taken." In his final rousing speech at the Black Gates of Mordor, Aragorn assures his men that "a day may come when we forsake all bounds of fellowship, but it is not this day." In a world like ours, that so highly values individuality, these appeals to higher commitments that draw us up and out of ourselves may seem like a relic of a bygone time. In Tolkien's world, however, bonds of fellowship, commitment to community, loyalty to causes that transcend the self-- these are things that separate humans from all the other mythical races (it's no coincidence, for instance, that the orcs always end up battling and devouring themselves; nor is it a coincidence that the elves remain so detached from the plight of Middle Earth). This, too, is very much like the biblical worldview, where community is throbbing at the heart of what it means to be a follower of Jesus.
Musical Mundays (XII)
This song comes from my latest recording project, "Echoes" (see sidebar). Over the next few weeks, Musical Mondays will be dipping in to some of the tracks from this compilation for your listening edification. Today's offering is the first track from the album, "Speak Lord"; its a piece I started almost ten years ago, after an inspired reading of Psalm 29. It's been through a couple of permutations and combinations over the years, but this is a brand-new recording of a fresh arrangement of it.
If you're curious, you can explore some of the theological reflections underlying the song here, in this post from back in 2009. Enjoy. If the audio player doesn't load below, you can click on the title of the song to download.
The failure of Barak and the Assassination of Sisera-- on Violence in the Book of Judges
This idea is only half-baked, so feel free to tell me if it needs to go back into the oven for a while more-- and I know that former OT instructors of mine check in on terra incognita once in a while, so consider this an open invitation to tell me I'm out to lunch altogether... but ... I was reading the Book of Judges the other day and something sort of hit me I'd never noticed before.
First a disclaimer: I have always found the violence in the Book of Judges unpalatable (on the one hand) and somewhat barbaric (on the other). Only a few chapters in, for instance, we have that vivid but disturbing image of Ehud disemboweling Elgon, the King of Moab, by thrusting a dagger so deep into his belly that the fat closes around it and he's unable to draw it free.
Of course, if you read 3:22-24 closely, you'll notice a subtle, if gruesome irony in the telling of this story. Verse 22 specifically mentions that when Ehud slew Elgon, the dagger cut so deep that his "dirt" (KJV) or "offal" (NIV) or "refuse" (NASB) spilled out. It is, I'll admit, a strange and disturbing detail to mention.
But then in verse 24, after Ehud has made good his escape, leaving King Elgon dead in his own offal, the servants come. Finding the doors to the chamber locked, they wait "to the point of embarrassment" for Elgon to emerge. They assumed, the text points out carefully, that he was "relieving himself in the cool of the room." And I call this "gruesomely ironic" because the Hebrew phrase that's used here-- they assumed Elgon was "covering his feet"-- is an euphemism for having a bowel movement (see 1 Samuel 24:3). Indeed he was having a bowel movement, one might say, though they had no way of knowing in what particularly grisly a way his bowels had in fact been moved.
I point all this out because it suggests to me that, for all their graphic violence, these narratives have been carefully, one might say artfully honed, so that the violence, while disturbing, serves the narrative (rather than the other way around). There is a larger purpose beyond simply thrilling or grossing-out the reader, that the violence in some way or other fits into.
Which brings me at last to the half-baked idea I'd like to share here. Because the next story after Ehud is the one about Barak, Deborah and the assassination of Sisera (who was the General of the Cananite army). If you recall, Deborah inspires Israel to a stunning victory over the Cananites, and Sisera flees for his life. He hides out in the tent of a Kenite woman named Jael, who, after lulling him to sleep, takes a hammer and drives a tent peg and through his temple and into the ground. "And so Sisera died." (Incidentally, Jael's betrayal of the code of hospitality here probably would have sent colder chills down the spine of an ancient reader than even the assassination itself).
But here's what I'm wondering about. The Israelite general who was supposed to have led the charge against Sisera, but wouldn't until Deborah agreed to join him, was Barak (in Hebrew Bârâq). His name means "thunder-bolt" and many commenters point out the irony inherent in the fact that the Lord's "thunderbolt" was so reticent to join the battle (so Deborah's indictment of Barak in 4:9). But there may be an even deeper word-play here: in Hebrew, the phrase "into the temple (of one's head)" (bᵋraqqâh) sounds a fair bit like "barak." Bârâq ... bᵋraqqâh ... At least, they're enough alike to my very inexperienced Ancient Hebrew ears, that I wonder if there isn't a vivid pun going on in the telling of this assassination, too.
The Lord's Bârâq failed to live up to his name, so Jael was forced to kill Sisera bᵋraqqâh. (If that seems like a strech, then imagine I was telling you the story of a certain figureskating feud from the 90s, but to protect the innocent, maybe, I changed the names to Nancy O'Kneel and Tonya Knee. You'd get it, wouldn't you?).
Again, I welcome input from heads better-trained in Hebrew than mine. I admit, for instance, that the similarity is less convincing when you attach the third-person pronoun to bᵋraqqâh, which is how it actually appears in the text. And let's be clear, Barak was still called to a pretty gruesome duty; Hebrew homophones alone can't let us off the hook when it comes to making sense of this violent war. But if I am on to something, it would suggest that the violence here, at least, is hardly gratuitous. The disturbing image of a Canaanite general, with a bloody tent-peg in his murdered temple, killed bᵋraqqah by the Kenite woman who had been his hostess, is meant very much to disturb us. It is, in fact, a further indictment on Barak. Had Bârâq lived up to his name, and joined the battle swiftly, this horrid murder bᵋraqqâh might have been avoided.
And if you're still with me, then perhaps you could wonder out loud with me a bit, here at the end. Are there similar acts of meaningless and disturbing violence happening in our world today, that might be avoided if the People of God would but live up fully to their name?
On Oaths, Vows and Spiritual Formation
A New Years Resolution, of course, is kin to making a vow or taking an oath. Admittedly, it's not nearly as solemn, nor as binding, but the kinship is real, which is perhaps why it struck me so forcibly the other day when, right at the height of New Years Resolution season and all, I was reading this book about Christian leadership that pointed out the deep connections between spiritual bondage, spiritual formation and vow-making.
This book (Mentoring Leaders, Carson Pue) unpacked Leviticus 5:4, where it says that anyone who "thoughtlessly takes an oath to do anything, whether good or evil, in any matter one might carelessly swear about" is guilty of sin and must go to the priest with a sacrifice for atonement. I've read this verse a few times before and, aside from deeply appreciating how Christ is the atoning sacrifice who fulfills and transforms the Old Testament Law for us, I've never really thought much about how this specific injunction against thoughtless vows might play out in a contemporary Christian context.
The book I was reading, however (and have been mulling over ever since) suggested that thoughtless vows can actually be a source of spiritual stuntedness, even bondage in our lives, and that identifying and renouncing such vows can be an important piece of our spiritual formation.
Let me be clear: we're not talking about New Years Resolutions here, and more importantly, we're not talking about those solemn vows that Christians take in Christ's name and are actually essential to our maturity in the Faith-- baptismal vows, child dedication vows, wedding vows, ordination vows and the like. In a different post I'd talk about how such vows as these are humanizing, how they enlarge our spirits and how they deepen our discipleship.
But that's a different post for a different kind of vow. What we're talking about here are those hasty promises we make to ourselves in moments of fear, resentment, hurt, bitterness or pride, often without ever realizing we've done so, and usually without ever considering that we have, in fact, sworn a vow. And we're talking about how such vows stunt our spiritual growth because they close areas of our lives off from the healing work of the Holy Spirit.
Some examples will probably help. Who has ever heard someone say, or said perhaps themselves, something along these lines: "I'll never to talk to them again." or "I'll never forgive him for what he did." or "That's the last time so-and-so will get the upper hand on me." or "I swear I won't grow up to be like him (or her or them)." or "I promised myself I wouldn't cry (or 'go there' or go back to 'that' again)." or "I'll get even."
It's hardly blood-oath material, to be sure, but such statements have an oath-taking ring to them, at least, and whether we realize it or not, when we make determinations like these in our hearts, whatever else is going on there, we've made a thoughtless vow.
God's Torah says that anyone who has made a thoughtless oath "about any matter one might carelessly swear about"-- is in need (in sacrificial need) of atonement.
I won't speculate a lot on why, except to point out that when we vow such things to ourselves (I'll never forgive so-and-so ... deal with such-and-such ... become like so-and-so ...); when we make these inner self-commitments out of hurt, fear, resentment or pride, whatever else is going on when we do that, we are actually setting our wills against the possibilities of God's sanctification in our lives. Consider it this way: Saying "I'll never grow up to be like 'her'" (or "him" or "them" or whomever) shuts you off from the possibility that there may in fact be something in "her" (or him or them or whomever) that God wants you to grow in or learn from or redeem.
Promising myself "I won't go there," is actually closing my heart to God's healing in that particular area of my life.
Vowing "never to speak to so-and-so again" is vowing unforgiveness.
I need to stress some things. Forgiveness doesn't mean allowing someone to hurt us again; nor does "dealing with the past" mean accepting the dominant narrative about the past; there may be patterns of relating or cycles of behaviour in those around us that we personally want to break free from, and it's altogether appropriate to articulate that; there are times when genuine reconciliation is not possible this side of eternity. It's not wanting things to be different or better or whole or safe that's in question here. It's the act of exerting our wills over our lives-- taking matters into our own "emotional hands"--in such a way that it excludes or precludes the sanctifying work of God precisely there, in that area of our lives. That's what's in question.
And maybe it's because thoughtless vows have this dangerous edge to them that Leviticus 5:4 prescribes a sacrifice of atonement for the guilt of swearing such oaths. Which leads me to appreciate all the more deeply still that Christ is the atoning sacrifice who fulfills and transforms the Old Testament Law for us. Because in Christ we have a saviour who not only atones for those thoughtless acts of self-exertion that cut us off from the sanctifying work of God, but in him we also have the Spirit who can answer the fears, heal the hurts, redeem the resentment or humble the pride that led us into the vow in the first place.
In Christ we discover not only the invitation to stay fully open to the possibilities of God's redeeming work in our lives, but also the grace to answer "yes."
My Evangelical 2012 in Review
Another year of news-making has come and gone. Not to trivialize Kate Middleton's morning-sickness or anything, but as I look back over the headlines of the last 365 days, I'm thinking more about those news items that impacted the Evangelical world, and more particularly Evangelical Canada, in some way or another. I am, of course, no pundit, so in presenting this list of the "Top Headlines of the Evangelical Year," I am not claiming any expertise on these matters; they are simply the stories that stood out to me as significant.
January 3: Mark Driscoll publishes Real Marriage. Nearly everything Pastor Mark says in the public sphere seems calculated to shock his listeners into sending it viral, if not by assent then at least by incredulity, so I don't want to give this tell-all "marriage manual" any more air time than absolutely necessary. However, the publication of a very explicit and prescriptive book about the state of holy matrimony, by the self-styled guru of locker-room evangelicalism was notable to me for a number of reasons. (Not least of which was the way it reinforced my commitment to rigorous and christocentric exegesis when it comes to teaching the Scriptures. Esther is not a housewife's handbook, nor is the Song of Solomon simply a Christian Karma Sutra.)
January 9: Rob Bell's final service at Mars Hill. I followed the publication circus that was Love Wins pretty closely (see my review of the book in the sidebar), so the headline announcing Rob Bell's last service at Mars Hill stood out for me. Whether or not Pastor Rob's decision to leave his church was really due to the fallout from his book (as some suggest), a number of things stand out to me in this dramatic conclusion to the story. Among other things, it shows how the "culture of celebrity ministers" in the States actually has a pretty dark underbelly. (Note how Pastor Bell was maligned almost as viciously for leaving his church as he was for publishing the book in the first place. In celebrity culture, the once the famous have fallen from grace the only thing left to do is devour them whole.)
March 5: Invisible Children launch Kony 2012 campaign I have not been able to establish whether Invisible Children should be called a "Christian organization" or not. They have certainly been accused by their detractors of being "insidiously Evangelical," though nothing in their literature or campaigns is explicitly Christian. What stood out to me in the Kony 2012 campaign, however, is how black and white the underlying narrative they presented was, and how simplistic the solution they proposed (wear an arm band and throw up some posters). Even if Invisible Children is not a Christian group, there are lessons for the Church here. Solutions to world issues are seldom as simple as getting the "good guys" to stop the "bad guys." And as a side note, we might take the whole thing as a cautionary tale, pointing out how celebrity has become the new source of moral authority in an age of viral videos (what was going to stop Kony, after all, was "fame"). Whatever else we make of the campaign, it illustrates how inconsistent and unstable this particular "source" of authority actually is.
March 21: Canadian film-maker Kevin Miller releases Hellbound Kevin Miller's documentary "Hellbound" explores traditional Christian perspectives on the fate of the departed from a number of angles, interviewing pastors, psychologists, theologians and historians alike. Coming so soon after the aforementioned Love Wins debacle, and from the hands of a Canadian film-maker no less, it suggests that the question of Hell will be the hot issue (no pun intended) for Canadian Christians in the coming years.
August 16: Dr. Gary Paterson elected new moderator of the United Church of Canada Realizing that a two or three line mention on a list like this is hardly space enough to unpack the significance of the vote itself, I will simply state that it is extremely significant, that this year the United Church of Canada became the first Christian denomination in history to appoint a practicing homosexual as its leader.
September 27: Rona Ambrose votes in favor of Motion 312 I mention this one if for no other reason than that it vindicates me in this blog post last month. Rona Ambrose was the Federal Minister for the Status of Women; Motion 312 was a private member's motion introduced by Conservative MP Stephen Woodworth asking Parliament to review the Criminal Code's definition of when life begins (i.e. does it begin, like the Criminal Code states, only after the baby fully emerges from the birth canal, or does it begin at some point between conception and birth?). The motion failed, but pro-abortion advocates slammed Ms. Ambrose for being one of the few MPs who voted in favor of it. Of all people, they claimed, the Minister for the Status of Women ought to have known better than to risk reopening the abortion debate. Ms. Ambrose's defense: as Minister on the Status of Women, she felt the issue should be studied, because in some parts of the country gender-selective abortions are being used to terminate girls.
October 30: Rachel Held Evans publishes The Year of Biblical Womanhood There were, I am sure, more scholarly books published this year on gender issues and the Christian faith, but I note this one here because A) I suppose if there is such a thing as a yang to the yin of Mark Driscoll's Real Marriage, The Year of Biblical Womanhood would probably be it; and B) as a blogger, the fact that Ms. Held Evan's writing ministry began on the blogosphere suggests to me that there have been some pretty seismic shifts in the balance of power in the Christian publishing industry.
November 21: The Church of England rejects female bishops A friend pointed out to me the irony inherent in the fact that the Anglican Church could have accepted a theological canon as loose as John Shelby Spong as bishop for so long, but still vote to reject women (although, to be fair, Spong is Episcopalian, not specifically C of E). But the point still stands: the Church of England, it seems, missed a golden opportunity to follow the gospel to some logical conclusions here.
December 26: President Morsi signs Egypt's Islamist constitution into law Speaking of inherent irony, I suppose there is some small irony in the fact that Egypt's President Morsi signed the Muslim Brotherhood's Islamist Constitution into law the day after Christmas-- inasmuch as many analysts suggest that a constitution based on Sharia Law bodes very ill for the Coptic Christians in the country, and is likely to result in increased marginalization and persecution of Christians in that part of the world. As William Dalrymple suggests, the much lauded Arab Spring is turning into a Christian Winter (and by and large the Christian West seems indifferent to the plight of their Middle Eastern Brothers and Sisters).
The 2012 Literary Awards
Reading forms a pretty major piece of the spiritual jigsaw puzzle that is my life. I read for work; I read for leisure; I read for spiritual formation; I read for recreation. My habit of recording the books I read each year started sometime back in 1999, when I was teaching High School English and trying to catch up on "the classics." The habit stuck, and 13 years later I still find it satisfying to look over the year's reading list and reflect on what I found and who I met there.
The habit of awarding "literary awards" to the good, the bad and the ugly reads of the year started three years ago, as a bit of an experimental blog post. In the hopes of nurturing this habit into a tradition, I am pleased to present here the third annual terra incognita literary awards. You can check out previous awards ceremonies here and here.
Most Traumatic Read: Dragonslippers, Rosalind B. PenfoldThis was one of the required texts for a course in "the dynamics of abuse" which I audited this spring. Presenting her book as the "illustrated diary" of a woman who has escaped a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship, Rosalind B. Penfold (pseudonym) tells her story in a series of deceptively simple, but haunting cartoon drawings. Although it was indeed a traumatic read, it was also one of the most vivid and compelling illustrations of the dynamics of abuse I have ever encountered.
Most Disappointing Read: Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Wolf.I first read this ground-breaking stream-of-consciousness novel for a University course on the English Novel, back in my undergrad days. Some 20 years later, I remembered little of it, except that the account of Septimus Warren Smith's suicide had deeply moved me back then. I reread it last winter for old times sake, and, while I still found Septimus Warren Smith a sympathetic character, the rest of the book was far more tedious than I ever remembered. Since it's unlikely the novel itself has changed, I can only assume my reading tastes have; that, or the many shots of espresso I consumed before reading the novel the first time, at 3 am the night before the big final exam, gave Mrs. Dalloway's quest for the flowers (which she said she would buy herself) a certain je ne sais pas which I will never recapture.
Another re-read, though this one was satisfying in every way Mrs. Dalloway was not. Graham Greene's story of a failed Catholic priest on the run from the communist government in revolutionary Mexico is one part redemption story, one part spiritual odyssey, one part spy-thriller. I love this book, and the longer I do ministry, the more sense it makes to me. It helps, perhaps, that this time I read it while on vacation in Mexico.
Most Enraptured Read: Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work, Eugene PetersonEugene Peterson uses the megaloth--the five traditional books read on the five feast days of the Jewish Calendar (Song of Solomon, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes and Esther)--as thematic entry-points for the five practices of pastoral work (prayer-directing, story-making, pain-sharing, nay-saying and community-building). This book was food for the head and balm for the heart. I read it as much for Eugene Peterson's whimsical style as for the deep insights he offers into the real nature of pastoral ministry. A must-read for any fledgling pastor.
Most Willing Required Read: From Darkness to Light: How One Became a Christian in the Early Church, Anne FieldsThis one was required reading for a seminar on the "theology of conversion" our ministry network hosted this year. It's essentially an anthology of readings, sermons and liturgy excerpts from the early church's catechism for baptismal candidates, peppered through with a bit of commentary from Ms. Fields herself. It showed, essentially, what a third Century prosylete would undergo if he or she wanted to become a member of the Christian community. The forty-day ordeal of daily sermons, scripture lessons and exorcisms which culminated in a public baptism on Easter Night (a naked, public baptism, mind you), makes the "ask Jesus into your heart" fare of now-a-days look like the TV dinner of conversion experiences.
Most Unexpectedly Interesting Read: Evoking Change, Anna ChristieThe reasons why my expectations were so low when I started this one are complicated, but among other things, let me say that the dust-cover's claim that this book will "put you on a foolproof path that will positively impact all aspects of your life and eventually improve the world" seemed a bit grandiose for my taste. There was much I disagreed with here, both theologically and psychologically, but its overall thesis resonated with me: that leaders can only effect outward change in the systems they are called to lead when they are willing to do the painful work of inward transformation. And, important theological quibbles notwithstanding, Anna Christie offers some very helpful and challenging insights into human psychology and systems theory in her unpacking of this thesis.
Most Edifying Read: The New Testament and the People of God, N. T. Wright.I've blogged before (and effusively) about N. T. Wright. I have been waiting for a while now for the fourth installment in his Christian Origins and the Question of God series, breath bated ever since The Resurrection of the Son of God heralded for me the end of the world as I knew it (but I feel fine). Anyways, rumour has it that part four, Paul and the Faithfulness of God, is due any day now, and to brace myself (or while away the time, as the case may be) I started re-reading the first three books in the series. I finished The New Testament and the People of God this week and found it as edifying as before, and perhaps twice as rich, academically speaking, coming as it did after a couple of years in the ministry trenches. What can I say: I'm a Bible Geek.
Happy 2013 Everyone!
Like I usually do this time of year, I have been waxing especially reflective today, thinking back through what was in 2012 and looking ahead to what might be in 2013. Usually, of course, years-in-review get done in the week leading up to the start of the new year, but between double services on Christmas Eve and the general festivities of the season, who's got the time? So my year end retrospectives tend to happen in the first week of the New Year. Not to disappoint, I am working on a couple of posts along those lines -- the highlights of the media, ministry moments, literature-read and lessons-learned in Dale's world this year -- which will be appearing over the next few days. As you stay tuned, let me start you off with this brief review of the highlights from this blog over the last year. Here are (in my humble opinion) the ...
Best Blogging Moments of terra incognita's 2012
Best Post of 2012: A Bottle of Pop for Eddy Bearnaise A writer's opinion of his best work doesn't always match the opinion of his readers, so I doubt this one will resonate with everyone. For my part,however, it was a post I'd been mulling over for almost two years, one that summed up a couple of themes I'd been reflecting on, and let me "stretch my legs" with some rhetorical flourishes, too. Enjoy.
Best Blogging Series: The Halloween Files. Who knew when I started this somewhat whimsical theological analysis of Halloween that it would strike so many chords? It is by far the most shared and most "hit" series I've done since I started blogging. Start here if you're curious.
Most Fun Post to Write: When King Solomon's Temple Meets Minecraft. This post earns the title "most fun" simply because of the joy it was to actually make the Minecraft model of Solomon's Temple with my kids. You can take a tour here.
Best Exegetical Work: The book of 1 Samuel caught my imagination in a special way this year. I did a couple of posts on this book in 2012, but this is the one that started it all for me: On Being a Reject Messiah.
Best Sermons: The Book of How!? It's perhaps a bit sketchy of an enterprise to "rate" sermons, but when it came to challenging and formative work for the preacher this year, this series on the Book of Lamentations was stretching and edifying to prepare. Start here if you're interested.
Like I shared in a recent post, I came close to shutting down this blog this year. Partly because I'd felt like it had served its purpose and partly because I'd lost a bit of the heart for it, I was getting ready to hang up the blogger's hat. After a bit of a gut-check this summer and a bit more re-purposing this fall, recommitted to regular posting, a commitment I'm renewing here for the New Year. I hope that at least some of what you find here, in the flotsam and jetsam of my spiritual musings, is helpful or thought provoking to you. If one or two readers enjoy one or two posts here even half as much as I enjoy writing them, it will have been worth it.