Sunday, December 23, 2007

et incarnatus est

It takes a measure of presumption to write about a truly great thing. Great ideas and truths resist expression; pithy explanations provide inevitably simplistic representations of a greater reality.

I confess to presume much in speaking of the Incarnation. So great is this truth that, in the act of looking at and considering the Incarnation, one inescapably neglects part of the truth—the mind can only ponder a small part of its profundity. To speak of it presumes to comprehend the incomprehensible; to explain it is to confirm one’s ignorance. Yet this truth must be spoken of: It is the Good News. The Advent itself is the reason one can speak of the Incarnation.

Yet worse than arrogantly approaching so great a truth as this is to fail to approach it at all, to settle for the trite aphorisms and emotional stories that are but trivial expressions of lesser ideas. To fail to reflect on the Incarnation—not just during Advent but at all times—is to neglect the single most important truth man has known. To fail to mull over it, allowing it to transform your life, is to remain a lesser person. We must approach such great truths as the Incarnation humbly, hoping to glimpse a small part of the whole in an illuminating way.

The patriarch Tertullian was best known for his statement, “What does Athens have to do with Jerusalem?” Tertullian was adamantly against attempting to prove propositional truths of Scripture through the logic and philosophies of Athens. In this regard, he may understand the Apostle Paul’s concerns in his letters to the Corinthians better than most. The Christian must ultimately realize, as Tertullian unwaveringly taught, that faith does not hinge on a rational consistency, but rather a fundamental absurdity: the Creator took on flesh. The single most important truth the Christian faith rests upon is entirely resistant to logic.

The Christ event is a radical reorienting of logic. To be truly great, make yourself small. As the Apostle says,

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knew should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
Phillipians 2:5-11

Inasmuch as Christ is modeling the transformed mindset of living (“have this mind among yourselves”), the Christian mind is to reject the call of the world to make oneself great, but instead, make oneself nothing. The ultimate end of Christ’s earthly mission was “the glory of God the Father.” So too, the redeemed Christian in humbling himself is restored to his intended function: highlighting the glory of God the Father.

Reflect on the lowliness of Christ: Almighty God taking on flesh, taking human form in the lowliest of states, growing up thought to be a bastard child, living a life of service to others, to the point of death, even the shameful, horrific death on a cross. The propositional truth we must realize is that apart from Christ’s salvific work we are more pathetic and hopeless even in our loftiest moments than the scoffers thought Christ to be. Embrace the objective reality of the sinner’s need for a Savior. Walk in the path of the Messiah. Have faith in the most absurd of realities; it is the only one that truly matters.

Monday, December 03, 2007

A Theology of the Arts

Note: This is a paper I wrote for my Music Survey class. Although I'm turning this in for a grade, it is very much in progress and incomplete, and I see it mostly as an opportunity to begin developing a personal theology of the arts. I offer it here on the blogosphere for your reflection.

Human creativity is a creation of God. With the rest of creation, it should be seen as a means to an end: the glorification of the One who is deserving of all glory. Given that God created in order that His glory may be revealed to mankind and displayed in all his creation, a theology of the arts must be developed within the framework of salvation history, seeing God’s covenant people, in Israel and now in the Church, as the pleasing end of God’s creation. Creativity, as a facet of imago dei can then be seen as an attribute and gift of humanity that must be used for the glory of God.

In developing a theology of the arts it is necessary to begin with theology proper: what can be said about God himself, his character, and his actions; this is the framework within which one can accurately talk about humanity and the standard by which the actions of man are measured. As Dick Staub notes in The Culturally Savvy Christian, the first sentence in the Bible tells us that “God created.” Regardless of which interpretation one adheres to regarding chronology in Genesis 1, the message of the creation story is the same: God is the creator of all things. It can then be seen through observation of nature that God can be described as what humans call ‘creative.’ God’s creation shows an unbelievable amount of diversity, beauty, and splendor. Mathematical patterns (fractals are a fascinating example) that can be observed within nature display both the order and brilliance of God’s creation, a brilliance that can only be longed for by humans.

Staub also notes the response of God to his creation, calling it “good.” God, the artist-creator, is pleased to see his work, and delights in it. The creation of humans, however, stands out from the rest of creation. At the end of the sixth day of creation, having created man, male and female, God calls his work “very good.” Here, too, on the sixth day, is the first development of the concept of man being made in the image of God. Unlike the rest of creation, man is given a commission directly from God to preside over creation. This is only the beginning of Scripture’s witness that humans hold a particular place in creation; indeed all salvation history attests to this.

Having a concept of God’s creative qualities, human creative ability should be understood as a facet of imago dei. Humans have the ability to be creative because they bear characteristics of their creator God. While the rest of creation displays God’s creativity passively (by nature of having been made by God), humans are unique in expressing God’s creativity actively.
Human creativity, as a part of creation, must be seen to have the same course as the rest of creation. As says Romans 8:22, “…the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” Verse 21 of the same chapter explains, “…creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” The bondage this verse speaks of is in Genesis 3, at the Fall, where sin entered the world and corrupted creation. There is evidence in Scripture that the arts are affected by the fall along with the rest of creation. Genesis 4, in its genealogy of Cain, mentions the first musician, Jubal, and the first poet, Lamech. Interestingly, some scholars note that the poem in Genesis 4:23-24 has an unnatural, awkward meter in Hebrew, suggesting that the art of the sinful line of Cain cannot be called ‘good.’

God’s motion in salvation history is to reconcile mankind and all creation to Himself. This should be seen as a dominant theme throughout Scripture, culminating in the description in Revelation 21 of the new creation. It reasons to believe that at this point in salvation history, human creativity, though now marred by sin, will be restored. Though this is perhaps speculation, given man’s ever growing understanding and vision of God in the new creation, perhaps artistic ability will be correspondingly heightened to before unimagined levels of beauty and creativity in adoration of the perfect God.

Scripture also shows examples of God’s people using art as a means to express their adoration of God in this age of sin. Scripture is full of poems and songs, from Adam’s poem to his wife (Genesis 2:23), to the song of Moses in Exodus 15, to the Psalter, Song of Songs, Mary’s Magnificat, and ultimately, the song of the Lamb in Revelation 19. Beyond this, the beauty of the Temple in the time of Solomon can be looked to as an example of visual art used to the glory of God—indeed, even made to the specifications of God. Art is perhaps a preview of things to come, yet also a comfort and aid for these pilgrim days.

The overwhelming model of art in Scripture is that of a truthful reflection of a God-centered reality. This statement requires unpacking in two ways. First, the artist should not hold the pretension that he is creating truth, as truth cannot be seen as something to be created. Rather, the artist’s responsibility is to find creative, beautiful, inspiring ways to express what God has revealed to be true in creation and in His Word. Second, the reflection of truth ought to be truthful. Art is an interpretation of reality; Christians who create art should interpret art from a Gospel perspective, as those who know the Truth.

Throughout Scripture, art is used as a means of corporate worship of God. So too, today, art in all forms can and should be used as a tool in the Church. This context does not provide space for a sufficient discussion of aesthetics of worship. However, it can be said in brief that not all art is appropriate for corporate worship. While all art done by Christians can (and should) be seen as a worshipful act, given Paul’s teachings on church order, the purpose of the church—that being the edification and preservation of God’s people and consequent spread of the Gospel—must remain primary.

In contemporary American churches, however, it seems that there is a restrictive cuff on Christian artists. While Christians should be expected to create art that is a true and imaginative expression of reality, far too many churches stifle artistic growth by their narrow definitions of Christian art. Churches must create space for appreciating art that stretches boundaries of comfort; this is art that will get the ear of the greater culture. This is art that can proclaim the Gospel outside the walls of the church, and in doing so, allow human creativity to fit more completely into God’s plan for his church: the reclamation of the world for his glory.

Finally, the artist can never be boastful in his work. Inasmuch as creativity is seen as a gift for the benefit of the Church, Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 4:7 apply: “What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?” Human creativity a creation of God; being a gift, it cannot be claimed boastfully. But even more so, human creativity is the very creativity of God. And, in this fallen world, it can be seen as a grace of God, helping us to persevere. Art expresses the longings of the soul for God to make all things new. Indeed, art itself yearns to be made new.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Musings From a Trip Home

While I normally try to keep this blog to thoughts intellectual, I am so brimming over with random musings from my drive back from Michigan that I simply must spew them out. Blog, I christen thee my recipient of spewage.

I traded in my Chevy for a Malibu-bu-bu-bu-bu-bu. You oughta know by now that my dear old S-10 died. While the Malibu is also a Chevy, and not a Cadillac, the Billy Joel song did play when I was pulling it out of the lot. Too perfect.

It was wonderful driving a long trip and not spending the whole time wondering if my vehicle is going to make it the full 325 miles or not. As a result, I had time to consider some things I passed along the way.

There is a bridal shop in the middle of a cornfield on the highway south of my parent's house. It's this lonely, deplorable cube building with no windows. It just screams, "Come shop here, and you will have the wedding of your dreams." Not.

Just south of there is a series of roads named after presidents. Every time I drive through there, I feel like I should be able to turn east on Roosevelt, drive about 7/4 of a mile, turn off into the woods, and be magically transported to somewhere in Lombard, right between Glendbard South and The Enchanted Castle. All in all, the trip would take a little under an hour.

At this point I became fascinated with all the little buttons my car has to offer. I tried to not be too distracted by this, as it would be in poor form to crash my car while playing with all of its trinkets. That said, my car is probably more fun to play with than most of your friends.

Favorite town I drove through on my way back: Climax, Michigan. In case any children or Mennonites read this blog, I won't comment on this point.

Kalamazoo must be a nice town to live in. Not only did Ben Folds write a song about it, but it has its very own Lovers Lane. Not the store, but an actual road called Lovers Lane. I wonder if it is actually used for the purpose of its name. If so, the cops must totally be onto the high schoolers there. Some creativity, kids.

I picked the wrong gas station to stop at. I paid at the pump, no problem, but then went in to get a diet Pepsi, mostly so I would have change for the one toll booth I thought I needed change for in Indiana before my iPass kicked in. Between Croatian truck drivers who hardly speak english, fairly confused college students from India, and a couple of twelve year old girls buying lemonade, it took about 20 minutes to get my Pepsi, and thus, my needed change. As a kicker to this story, the Indiana Toll Road now accepts iPass. Perfect.

Props to Gary, Indiana. The Christmas trees on top of steel mills really give it a "Home for the Holidays" feeling. I might even vacation there for the New Year. How's this for a vacation pitch? There are two new lake front casinos, plenty of unemployed adults to talk to, and I'm sure you could get a steel mill tour. Plus, you could visit the childhood homes of Michael Jackon, Morgan Freeman, checkers champion Walter Hellman, and serial killer Christopher Peterson. For further information and to begin planning your trip, click here.

Music employed for the trip home: Billy Joel's greatest hits, RUF Hymns, Sufjan Stevens: "Come on and Feel the Illinois," Philadephia Orchestra's Brass Ensemble Christmas, and Radiohead, "In Rainbows."

Finally, regarding Radiohead, I am glad they do not spell their name "Radiohed" or "Radiohedd." Were that the case, I could not allow myself to enjoy one of the more consistently creative bands around.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

The Burning House, or "What Would Paul of Tarsus Do?"

Allow me a modern retelling of an old Mahayanna parable:

Suppose there once was an old man with twenty sons. They all lived together in a house. The house had no windows, and only one door in the front. One day, the old man returned from the village to see that the house was on fire. Seeing the house ablaze and knowing all his sons were inside, the old man set to getting them out.

His sons did not want to leave—they were busy playing Halo 2 on the inside of the house, and were rather unaware of the fire. The old man, knowing he could not force them out of the house, yelled through the door, "Hurry, quick, the house is on fire! You must leave now!" But none of the sons responded.

Knowing the boys would not respond to further pleas of this type, he set to luring them out of the house by any means possible. "Come, come!" he shouted, "I have candy for you all!" And eight of the boys came running out, each trying to be the first through the doorway. Though the old man had no candy, eight of his sons were safe on the outside.

He tried again, "Come, come!" he yelled all the more frantically, thinking of a new means with which to draw them out. "I want to take you to buy a new TV for you to play video games on!" Lured by his lie, five more of his sons came running out of the house, spared from the fire.

One last time, he tried to draw the final seven sons out of the house. "Come, come!" he yelled at the top of his voice, "Let us go buy a new Xbox 360 so you can play Halo 3!" The final seven sons came running, each wanting to be the first to their father.

What then do we say of the father? Is he guilty of falsehood? No, rather, he used whatever means neccessary in order to bring to his sons something better than what was promised. His deception was only a skillful device to persuade his sons to get out of the house and save their lives.
Mahayanna, the more liberal of the two main branches of Buddhism, believes that there are many paths to ultimate enlightenment. This parable illustrates one of their most fundamental beliefs: Though there are many means through which one can escape samsara (the cycle of rebirth), it is not wrong for there to be many paths to the same goal. In broad terms, this leads to a religious system with paths to nirvana almost individualized to fit anyone's lifestyle.

To the Mahayanna, any means by which they can lead another into nirvana is equally valid. To some Christians, this may sound a lot like when Paul says in 1 Corinthians 9:22, "I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some." Is Paul the old man yelling the Gospel in various terms to souls in risk of burning? That certainly refflects a popular interpretation of Paul: use whatever means possible to get lost souls to pray the sinner's prayer.

Paul's means of becoming all things to all people is by, though being free, making himself "a servant to all, that I might win more of them (1 Cor. 9:19)." Paul does not alter the substance of the Gospel, but rather, in love, brings it to both Jew and Gentile without altering the message of hope: Salvation in Christ Jesus through his salvific work on the cross.

The message of the Gospel is, "Get out of the house, it is burning." There is danger in using fringe benefits of Christianity as a means of luring people into the faith. These "conversions" are not likely to be transformative or lasting. Far too often, these converts use Jesus only as the name of the leader of their cult of what Christian Smith calls Moralistic Therapeutic Deism:

"Come, come, and Jesus will make your problems in your marriage go away." Or, "Come, come, we have exciting 'worship' music and trendy skits." And, "Come, come, Jesus wants you to be healthy, wealthy, and wise."

Rather, the message of the Gospel is, "Come, come, to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me. My name is Jesus, and I have redeemed you from your sins. I have purchased you with my blood. I have reconciled you to your loving Father, and will share with you my inheritance in His kingdom. Come, come, and be my disciple. Take up your cross and follow me."

May the Spirit's quickening beam melt the even the hardest of hearts to this message.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

A New Perspective

I have a new favorite view. It's not particularly beautiful or awe-inspiring. It's almost embarrassing how incredibly normal this view is—yet there is something peaceful and serene about it. It's outside my apartment, standing in the street, looking over the crest of the hill towards downtown Wheaton. It's a somewhat dangerous place to stand. Tonight I stood there, blasting my ipod and looking away from the flow of traffic. Not exactly wise.

The road is perfectly straight, creating a sensation very similar to gazing down long, parallel train tracks. The hill crests in such a way as to create the perfect balance of things visible and things obscured. Some things that are quite near are obscured from view, while some things distant are visible, yet hazy. If you go out at just the right time and stand in the right place, the red traffic lights flash and intermittantly light up the road in front of them.

It's like looking forward into life—the distant end is visible, yet unclear. Along the way are many things, visible and invisible. Wesley St. is in disrepair. Driving towards Wheaton, it's impossible to avoid the potholes. And really, the distant end of the road isn't very beautiful by my standards. But it's the way the road goes; the path, though hidden and bumpy, is the path.

In the distant future is something barely visible: a flashing traffic light, a flickering candle. It's the end of this path. And if you look at it just the right way, you can see how beautiful it really is.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

The Role of Theology in Practice

I ran across an interesting topic tonight while leading my small group. We talked mostly about predestination (through a variety of angles), but I wanted us to leave with a sense of how it applies to our lives, rather than our discussion being, in essence, an intellectual game. We had discussed a couple theological issues of importance, but could have easily left it at an abstract level.

What is the role of theology in the life of a Christian? I fear I am treading on ground where far greater men have written volumes, and am in far over my head with this topic. However, the way I see it, theology's role for the believer is to bring into readily accessible form the truths we see evident in Scripture, in order that we may apply them to our lives. If we do not demand our theology be lived out, we are fooling ourselves, and are to be pitied above all others. That is to say, orthodoxy apart from orthopraxy is idolatry.

I believe theology should flow from Scripture, not from the desire to make a perfectly coherent system. Read (and revel in!) the richness of God's work in reconciling man to himself. To our finite minds, the best biblically grounded theological system may well seem foolish. It is, after all, a mystery how God extended his covenant to bring salvation to the Gentiles. Confessing the crucified, shamed, God-man, Jesus Christ, the Lord of all Creation, true God of true God, is utter foolishness to the world. Yet this is the Gospel of hope, this is the way the one true God.

How do we live in light of having been grafted in to God's people? With utter thankfulness. With lives devoid of pride. With obedience to God's commandments, through the power of the Spirit who gives us strength. With hope, knowing the battle has been won.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Jesus Does All Things Well

People can criticize John Piper's theology, but he lives his life above reproach. His preborn granddaughter died last Saturday. His comments on what it means to be a grandfather to Felicity are here. A criticism of Piper that was common among students is that, in his theology of suffering, he minimizes the role of mourning with those who mourn. No. He mourns with those who mourn, and graciously proclaims the only reason to hope amidst sorrow. And drowning in a sadness I can hardly imagine, Piper makes one of the most profound, clear, statements of the Gospel I have heard:

Come, there is somebody I want you to meet. His name is Jesus. He's the reason you're here. You don't need to be afraid. Your Savior has led you all the way. And Jesus does all things well.

Thanks be to God.

"I just really hear God telling me to break up with you"

Oh, to equip the men of Wheaton with this interpretation of the Third Commandment.

Here's the gist of it: The Third Commandment does not mean that saying the word "God" in all but a worshipful manner is sinful. Though this is probably not a good practice, the commandment is probably talking about something else: using the name of God as a source of authority in what you are saying when in fact, God has not given that word or authority.

So, to say to someone, "God is telling me to break up with you," when in fact, God has not directly told you such a thing, is a violation of the third commandment.

Now, obviously as one become more sanctified, the idea of "Love God and do what you want," as said Augustine, becomes more pertinent. So, if the time comes in a non-marriage relationship with another person that it becomes undesirable to remain in the relationship for reasons rooted in Scripture, or perhaps the trajectories of your lives are headed different ways, then take responsibility for that. Say, "I don't wish to stay in this relationship because _____."

Don't use the "God card".

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Rabbit Feet....Rabbit Footses...Rabbit's Feet

Rabbinic tradition provides a back story to Abram's conversion. According to some traditions, Abram's father, Terah, was an idol maker by trade. It would seem (from our view) that the Holy Spirit was working on Abram's heart even before his call, because he had a growing skepticism towards all the wooden and metal idols his father built. When Terah left him alone to mind the shop, Abram would often lose sales by down talking the efficacy of the idols, much to his father's discontent.

Finally, one day, when his father was out of the shop, Abram smashed all the idols with an axe, leaving only the largest one standing. Placing the axe in the idol's hand, he waited for his father's return. Terah, outraged, asked him who did it. Abram responded, "It seems the largest one destroyed the others in his anger," to which Terah replied, "That is foolish, we know that these idols neither move nor destroy." Abram's departure from his father's house soon followed.

Although the historicity of this story is roughly on par with the fable that George Washington cut down his father's cherry tree, it illustrates what the prophet Jeremiah asserts in his tirades against Judah. In Jeremiah 10:3 he says,

A tree from the forest is cut down
and worked with an axe by the hands of a craftsman.
They decorate it with silver and gold;
they fasten it with hammer and nails so that it cannot move.

Not only are these idols made by human hands, but they are unable to even stand up on their own unless their human makers nail their feet to the ground! He continues to tell Israel, "Do not be afraid of them, for they cannot do evil, neither is it in them to do good." (10:5)

But the Lord is the true God;
he is the living God and the everlasting King
At his wrate the earth quakes
and the nations cannot endure his indignation. (10:10)

Israel's idolatry went beyond the foreign gods and man-made idols. Even the temple, the locus of God's presence among his people, had become an idol to them.

Will you steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, make offerings to Baal, and go after other gods that you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, "We are delivered!"—only to go on doing all these abominations?

God did not bring his glory into the temple because he needed to be served by human hands, but as a grace to his covenant people. Israel instead saw the temple as a lucky rabbit's foot in battle and "Get out of Jail Free" card for their unrepentant sins. In this we see the sinfulness of all mankind: We seek to make gods for our own desires. Rather than dwell in the rich revelation and covenant love of the one true God, we make gods for ourselves, distort how God has revealed himself to us, and manipulate grace—to our destruction.

But thanks be to God, who has given us victory through our Lord, Christ Jesus. In Christ the fullness of God was pleased to dwell. In Christ we have been given all the inheritance of the Kingdom of Light. God has offered restoration to the communion with God that man had before the Fall. It is pure foolishness to create gods of our own hands or to manipulate the revelation of the one true God. The destruction of those who do so is as sure as the destruction of the temple was in Jeremiah's day.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Redemption is like the blogosphere

Ah, foolish youth. A blog once filled with my thoughts of yesteryear now wiped clean with just a few clicks of the mouse. Lessons are learned from past missteps, yet on this blog they are easily erased. It would have been easier to start a new blog, but that would be rather humanist in analogy, while cleansing my blog of its past transgressions is a rather wonderful binary illustration of the forgiveness found in Christ.

I also rather like the title of this blog. It's fitting for my somewhat incomprehensible ramblings. It's like the first sounds out of your radio alarm clock as your wake up. The words seem familiar, but don't quite make sense. It's also a great PoMo title. There's lots of room for everyone to make up their own meaning for it all.

I hope to write here more frequently than past attempts. I hope to synthesize into commonspeak what gets kicked around in academia, and this shall be my practice field for what I hope to do for the rest of my life.

Also, I think the analogy in my title is backwards.