Clarion: Journal of Spirituality and Justice

“Deconstruction: I do not think it means what you think it means!” - Sean Davidson

“Deconstruction: I do not think it means what you think it means!”

I’m pretty sure one thing it does not mean is a cynical, angry interlude on the way to militant progressivism.

At least it wouldn’t have meant that for Jacques Derrida, the French philosopher who coined the term. Deconstruction, for Derrida, seeks to highlight the internal contradictions and covert power dynamics at work in various forms of discourse. It’s not necessarily to deny truth or to reduce everything to text. It’s just to draw attention to those points where truth is falsely claimed and violently imposed as an unconditioned absolute. I’m pretty certain that Derrida would be as critical of liberal or progressive ideological constructions as he would of conservative or fundamentalist variations. 

Deconstruction isn’t about manning the barricades. It’s about learning to slow down, to attend closely to the ‘what” and “way” of language, and to be self-reflexive about one’s practice of truth and meaning.

This has important implications for theology. To practice deconstruction in connection with theological discourse is not to give up on truth or to free oneself to pursue the absolute on other terms. It’s to become better aware of the conditions that occasion our theology. Too often we behave as if we can get the truth whole, final and unmediated. Deconstruction helps us to guard against that pretension even as we engage with truth word-wise in communities of discipleship.

If you pay close attention to Derrida, he doesn't try to disprove theological/ontological/metaphysical claims. Nor does he try to prove them. He is a master of deferral, but there is openness to truth and meaning in his practice of deconstruction. The point of deconstruction is to unmask claims to truth that pretend to stand on their own, independent of conditions and contexts, including the very language in which the claims are made.

The pop version of "deconstruction" fails to appreciate these dynamics as it pertains to its own discourse. For the post Evangelical, deconstruction tends to be practiced as an intermediary stage doubt and cynicism in the service of militant progressivism. This is a form of deconstruction that Derrida himself would have deconstructed.

I do appreciate there have been very real abuses in the church. When I express irritation, it’s not with the recoil from abuse. I get that and have lived through enough of it to have my own struggles and misgivings. What troubles me is the strident reactionary and rationalistic spirit as recourse. I can understand that to an extent given the experience of abuse. But not as a concerted strategy for moving forward in faith, hope and love. There’s too much about this spirit, and the hard-progressive line that often goes along with it, that seems fueled by the very thing that’s being resisted.

Another way to say it: post Evangelicals practice “deconstruction” like it’s a version of Cartesian methodical doubt. They doubt in the interests of absolute certainty.Derrida’s original practice provides a much needed corrective—it not only helps to critique institutionalized problems, but also reactionary solutions. It forces us to consider genuine alternatives that are less about ideological tactics and posturing and more about participation in gospel.

Richard Murray on Patristic Universalism and God's Cleansing Fire

Patristic Universalism

"Patristic Universalism" (aka Apocatastasis), to which I subscribe, believes that one must be spiritually reborn to enter the kingdom of Heaven, and that this rebirth comes solely from an extension of interpersonal faith in Jesus Christ. It simply holds that this conversion can come in this age (which is far better) OR in the heightened crisis of the postmortem ages to come.

In other words, even after our deaths, God will continue to woo us, convince us, and vibrantly confront our issues until we finally see and embrace the irresistible truth--that Jesus Christ is the one true light and love, and in Him alone, our salvation lies. The church fathers believed that "God's fire was wise" in purging and pruning our diseased souls back to a place of pristine health.

This form of Universalism believes in a God who would never give His children the keys to a cosmic car with which they could crash, burn, and destroy themselves eternally. Rather, our dear Abba has installed spiritual guardrails, airbags, and safety equipment into the postmortem cosmos which will keep our souls from destruction no matter how hard we may have wrecked them during our earthly lives.

Simply put, Patristic Universalism believes Jesus will win all people back, come Hell or high-water. God, through Jesus Christ, will ultimately rescue and convince ALL to receive their rebirth, even if it is after (in some cases) much "gnashing of teeth," prolonged emotional anguish, and stubborn mental resistance. Many will hold out for extended periods of time, but all will eventually see that against an irresistibly virtuous God there is no eternal defense. As the lies are burned away, every soul will come to itself and behold this champion truth--Jesus Christ is God's rescuing love.

Is the Trump presidency a religious cult? Reza Aslan

Are fundamentalist Christians a dangerous religious cult? Possibly. The controversial author and religious scholar Reza Aslan posits that President Donald Trump has much of his evangelical fan-base believing that he's somehow been anointed by God to become President. Nevermind the Russian election scandal, his affairs with porn stars and unwarranted sexual acts towards women, or his inability to remember even a single Bible verse when asked. Evangelical Christians are abandoning their core moral beliefs to follow, as Reza suggests, someone who exhibits every trademark of a cult.

leader.

Overturning Prejudice: Abraham & Abimelech's Peacemaking in Gaza - Bob Ekblad

Violence in Gaza is once again on the rise as the Israeli Defense Forces battle Palestinian protesters outraged by inhumane living conditions in what is often referred to as the world’s largest outdoor prison. The last time tensions flared Israel brutally bombed Gaza in response to Hamas’ missile attacks in 2014--killing over 2000 Palestinians and wounding thousands more. The story of Abraham’s conflict and reconciliation with the ancient king of Philistia (located in modern day Gaza) in Genesis 20-21 is an invitation to Jews, Muslims and Christians to each other through the eyes of faith.

Genesis 20 tells the infamous story of Abraham’s residence as an alien in Gerar, where he lies to Abimelech, king of Philistia, about the identity of his wife Sarah, saying she was his sister. Abraham expects the worst from this foreign king, assuming he will kill him and take Sarah for himself-- since she is so beautiful. But after Abimelech takes Sarah into his harem God confronts him in a dream and Abimelech proves attentive. He dialogues with God, defending himself as innocent-- and God affirms his integrity (20:5-6).  Abimelech confronts Abraham about his lie: “You have done to me things that ought not to be done” (v. 10). He gives Sarah back along with many gifts, 1000 pieces of silver and a welcome to settle wherever they please (20:14-15). 

 

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How Christians should speak about creation - Brian Zahnd

This year Earth Day falls on a Sunday, so I thought I’d say a few words about how Christians should speak about Creation.

First, Christians should never say…

This world is not my home.

This world is our home! And it’s the locus of God’s saving work. The blessed hope is not “we’re going,” but “Christ is coming.” Our eschatological hope is resurrection, not evacuation. The risen Christ is not a ghost, he has flesh and bones; he eats fish and honeycomb.

It’s all going to burn.

What a horrible, ghastly thing for a Christian to say! Especially when it’s given as an excuse for justifying environmental exploitation. In Christ we have a hopeful eschatology that says, “It’s all going to be renewed.” (And if you want to work from 2 Peter 3:10, say, “It’s all going to be refined.”)

Environmentalism is idolatry.

Never say that. Instead say, “This is my Father’s world.” In giving humanity “dominion,” God made us park rangers of Planet Earth. Environmentalism isn’t idolatry — it’s the original vocation given to humanity. Environmentalism isn’t idolatry — but greed is! In Revelation we’re told that God will judge “those who destroy the earth.”

Instead of saying un-Christian things like, “This world is not my home,” “It’s all going to burn,” and “Environmentalism is idolatry,” listen to how wise Christians have always spoken about Creation.

I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.
–Apostles’ Creed (1st century)

The first step for a soul to come to know God is contemplation of nature.
–Irenaeus (120–202)

The whole earth is a living icon of the face of God.
–John of Damascus (675–749)

Praised be you my Lord through our sister Mother Earth.
–Francis of Assisi (1181–1226)

Any error about creation also leads to an error about God.
–Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274)

God also writes the gospel in trees and flowers, clouds and stars.
–Martin Luther (1483–1546)

If we learn to love the earth, we will discover what it means to be truly alive.
–Teresa of Avila (1515–1582)

Every creature exalts God, since it has God in itself.
–John of the Cross (1542–1591)

Faith in Jesus Christ will lead to concern for every living creature on earth.
–John Wesley (1703–1791)

Love all of God’s creation. Love every leaf and every grain of sand.
–Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881)

A wrong attitude toward nature implies, somewhere, a wrong attitude toward God.
–T.S. Eliot (1888–1965)

Because God created nature, it demands our reverence.
–C.S. Lewis (1898–1963)

The beauty of the world is Christ’s tender smile for us coming through matter.
–Simone Weil (1909–1943)

How we treat the earth defines the relationship that each of us has with God.
–Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew (1940–)

Amen.

BZ

(The artwork is Sunset at Douarnenez by Renoir, 1883)

The post How Christians Should Speak About Creation appeared first on Brian Zahnd.

Soil with a Soul - Brian Zahnd

“The LORD God formed the human (adam) from the dust of the ground (adamah) and breathed into his nostrils the breath (spirit) of life, and the human (adam) became a living soul.” –Genesis 2:7

Soil is miracle ground — it’s the matrix of all life on earth. As the second account of creation in Genesis tell us, all life comes “out of the ground” — plants, animals, and humans. We did not fall as pure spirits from the realm of the perfect forms and find ourselves imprisoned in contemptible matter (as Platonism claims); rather we were formed from the dust of the earth, breathed on by God, and became living souls. We are humans from the humus, soil with a soul; we are a mysterious synthesis of the dust of the earth and the breath of God. There is a sense in which humans are very complicated, self-aware rocks — rocks so magnificently complex that we are capable of bearing the Creator’s image and sharing the Creator’s spirit. Indeed the psalmist is moved to praise God by saying,

      Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
      Your workmanship is marvelous — how well I know it.
      (Psalm 139:14 NLT)

Our connection with the soil means we share a kinship with all of creation; indeed every living thing shares a common ancestor — the soil from which we come. It’s in this sense that we speak of “Mother Earth,” as Saint Francis of Assisi did in his Canticle of the Creatures.

Praised be You my Lord with all Your creatures,
especially Sir Brother Sun,
Who is the day through whom You give us light.
And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendor,
Of You Most High, he bears the likeness. …
Praised be You my Lord through our Sister,
Mother Earth
who sustains and governs us,
producing varied fruits with colored flowers and herbs. …

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(The artwork is Creation by Marc Chagall.)

The risen Christ is the vision of peace for this tragic world – Martin Little

St Mary’s, Clevedon & St Paul’s, Weston-in-Gordano. 15.4.18.

Easter 2 – Acts 4:5-12; 1 John 3:16-24; Luke 24:36b-48

The risen Christ is the vision of peace for this tragic world – Martin Little

The international events of the last few weeks have meant that, if we’re not already sleeping a little less easily in our beds, we certainly should be now.

A callous and barbaric chemical attack in the town of Douma in Syria.

A callous and barbaric chemical attack in Salisbury, of all places.

President Trump’s bragging about US military might on Twitter, of all places.

And sometime in the dead hours of Friday night, the US, France, and the UK launched over 100 missiles at military targets in Syria.

Trump hailed the airstrikes as ‘perfect’; Teresa May, mindful no doubt of the Chilcot inquiry, had her legal defense ready to go.  Meanwhile, the Secretary-General of the UN reminded us that there is “no military solution” to the crisis in Syria.

And so the world holds its breath and wonders, ‘what on earth next?’

The Glass Bead Game: Then and Now - Ron Dart

What is the “Glass Bead Game”? in the idyllic poem, “Hours in the Garden” (1936), which he wrote during the composition of his novel, [Hermann] Hesse speaks of “a game of thoughts called the Glass Bead Game” that he practiced while burning leaves in his garden. As the ashes filter down through the gate, he says, “I hear music and see men of the past and future. I see wise men and poets and scholars and artists harmoniously building the hundred-gated cathedral of the mind”.

These lines depict as personal experience that intellectual pastime that Hesse, in his novel, was to as “the unio mystica of all separate members of the Universitas Litterarum” and that he bodied out symbolically in the form of an elaborate game…            

The Glass Bead Game is an act of mental synthesis through which the spiritual values of all ages are perceived as simultaneously present and vitally alive.

Theodore Ziolkowski, "Foreword,"The Glass Bead Game, p. XI

The Killing House - Wm. Paul Young

 

Behind my desk there sits a clock, crafted by Terry King, a man who has become my friend and who has lived in Unit 2A on Death Row in Tennessee for 34 years. Right before Christmas, two years ago, it arrived unexpected, a gift. The first time I met Terry, it was because of a friend of a friend, who asked me to come and spend a few hours with him. The Shack has had a profound impact on his life, as well as other inmates. Since then, I have tried to visit every time my travels have taken me through Nashville. This blog was written in the last few days in the wake of my most recent visit. I am fascinated at how the Holy Spirit weaves seasons of focus into the threads of our daily lives. For the last while, I haven’t been able to get away from question about justice, at the same time as my life has taken me into places where those questions involve life and death.

 

This might be a hard piece for some, especially those who have experienced violence and abuse at the hands of men. I get that. So does Mack, when facing the dilemma and seeming impossibility of forgiveness, "So are you saying he just gets away with it?" Papa, eyes full of love and understanding the depths of the loss completely, responds, "No son, no one gets away with anything. But he too is my son, and I want to redeem him." Such just-love is at times almost too much to bear, but we must.

There is much more to say, and at some point, I probably will, but for now I hope you can listen well to my words and the emotions that seep through the spaces between them. [The following article first appeared on Paul Young's website here: http://wmpaulyoung.com/the-killing-house UBP]

And so we gaze upon the lynchpin, the fulcrum and the crux of the cosmos, that we have killed Ourself in self-destructive rage, trying to blot out the memory or Our self-consuming shame, to kill Our Life that fought against Our tenacious embrace of death…only to discover that even here We are loved completely, to the same relentless depth that We have always been.

Wm Paul Young, Holy Week, 2018:

A few days ago, I entered again through the checkpoints, body scans and gates onto the prison grounds of Death Row in Tennessee. It is eerie to walk past the killing house, the building in which the executions take place. Here all the modern equipment is ready to resuscitate the doomed man whose heart might stop prematurely. The State wants to have the satisfaction of wielding the sword and not be thwarted by some stress-induced trauma and heart attack. Also, in that building are the poisons and protocol; a procedure that even includes the ritualistic sterilization of the needles. We meet in the library. I along with my friends, Wes, and Joe, gather with a dozen men who live here in Unit 2-A, also waiting. I think that Jesus sends us to those in prison not for their sake but for ours. Their prison is obvious, and while they cannot leave it we often cannot even see our own places of incarceration. We need their clarity, but instead we hide them away, out of sight and out of mind, giving them little voice with which to speak to us or help us. So, Jesus sends us to them.

For three hours we are together face-to-face, a handful of brothers who deeply love Jesus and each other. Three of us have actual execution dates, and without a miracle of human kindness, their days are indeed numbered. Here in this room, the cruelty of ‘human justice’ is unmasked by the simple and intense commitment of these men to life and love and each other. Some, like my friend Terry King, has been on Death Row for 34 years, waiting since he was in his early twenties. He is one of the freest human beings I have ever met. Should we turn a blind eye to injustice, to betrayal, to murder, to abuse? No. That is exactly the point. There should be no blind eyes. And yet human justice stands with eyes covered, blind. With such blindness, we lose sight of our humanity. The restorative justice of God requires eyes that see, not only the victim but also the human being who is the perpetrator. True just-love must see everyone. It must take all into account; the perpetrator, the victim, the community, everyone, and seek to restore the broken hearts of every participant and group.

You cannot sever justice from love. If you do, no matter how you coat it with moral or religious language, it is masked vengeance enacted to appease the fury of our anger against death, and we will take it out on those whom God also loves. Perhaps we have mixed intentions? We desire healing for the victim while knowing in our heart of hearts that we have no power to accomplish such a miracle, so we perpetuate the myth that somehow vengeance is healing and restorative. We also know that only love and relationship can heal broken hearts. So, we resort to age-old ways of attempting to restore through sacrifice; the killing of something living to fight what death has perpetrated. We preach that this is how we balance the scales of justice; that through death we will heal what death has done. How twisted is this? Is that not why Cain kills Abel, because he feels the slight of what he has perceived to be unfair? Is that not why the State and Religion turns upon Life Himself and hangs Him on a cross? If what is normative for the State in its understanding and promotion of ‘justice’ as punishment and retribution, ought we not immediately to suspect this is contrary and antithetical to the kingdom of Jesus? Is this the best that the world systems have to offer? Justice, bereft of love, is only vengeance. If our understanding of justice requires that we put to death a human being in order to achieve it, we have sold ourselves a lie; that death can heal, that death can restore, that death can right a wrong. Only life and love have the power to do any of this. In John MacMurray’s soon to be released book, A Spiritual Evolution, there are two brilliant chapters on the nature of Justice.

“Can punishment undo, offset, atone, or make up for sin in any way? Can punishment, regardless of the amount or its severity, change or untwist the wrong into, right? Can punishment change and heal the brokenness in me that wanted to do evil in the first place? I’m suggesting punishment is powerless to do any of these things. And if I’m right, that punishment has no ability to amend, undo, or atone for evil, then why do we believe that punishment is required for justice to be called justice?”

It appeals to the beast in us that, even if we have not been caught for the evils we have perpetrated, someone else was. How easy it is to find ourselves in the mob of those yelling, “Crucify him, poison him, electrocute him,” and then slip back to our routines in which we betray, lie, cheat, gossip and hurt with impunity. What makes this more pernicious, is that many who profess to be lovers and followers of Jesus participate in the perpetration of vengeance on behalf of the State, with the blessing of Religion. And why? At times we believe we are the righteous sword of God’s justice, and that such justice is retributive and punitive. Again, neither has any efficacy to heal or restore. We cannot simply turn away and wash your hands and say, ‘What is truth?” when Truth himself stands in front of us. “Vengeance is Mine,” says the Lord, and we all sit back and say, “Finally!” But then God adds in the same text, “Repay evil with good!” The vengeance of God is ‘Goodness?” The idea is so repulsive and infuriating that in our next breath we mutter, “If You aren’t capable of vengeance, we certainly are. Step aside and we will crucify him.” The incarnation of God in Jesus, in part, was to accomplish this: God becomes fully what we are in order to, as us, absorb our diabolical thirst for vengeance, our twisted and perverted sense of justice, and by becoming our scapegoat and sacrifice, destroy the power and false promises of death. This is so we might learn to live with resurrection life, so we would never need to kill another human being again. Prisons ought not be places of retributive vengeance, but places that create boundaries and discipline for the purpose and intention of healing and restoration. Reconciliation and rehabilitation in the best sense. Every judge and lawyer ought always to have in their hearts and actions the desire to bring healing to every person and situation they serve and protect, not simply be enforcers of State or Religious law. The world says of these men whom I love, ‘these are past redemption’ – therefore, they are dead to us. But it takes time to go through the necessary hoops to sanitize our decision and make it palatable, to baptize it in our Religious/State language so that these killings will be sanctioned and acceptable. And again, here is the exposure and why Death Row becomes an expression of back-handed grace; these men love each other, love God and love humanity. God did this miracle of restoration in spite of human justice. What has happened in their hearts and in the hearts of many of their victims, is true justice. It is firm-handed love that seeks the wholeness of all involved. It requires forgiveness, confession, repentance, the owning of both the wrongs and the self-righteous judgments. In our punitive vengeance, have we also not become perpetrators ourselves. Who among is without sin and has the right to cast the first stone? If Jesus refuses, where does that leave us? Jesus lives in them, and the State with the support of Religion will crucify him again, and again, and again. For three hours we told stories, cried, hugged and finally stood in a circle, holding hands. Each of us has a date with death, it’s just a matter of time. The men pray profound prayers of trust and hope and forgiveness and kind blessing for those who have chosen to be their enemies. Our hearts break, and in response, our eyes leak as Abu, an elderly dignified man who has traveled the road from mental illness, to Islam, to Jesus, lifts up his powerful voice embedded with the resonance of a life of loss and love, and slowly sings our common language:

Amazing Grace,

How sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like Me

I once was lost

But now am found

Was blind

But now I see

The Resurrection as Actual - Kenneth Tanner

With John Updike, I have no patience for metaphors when it comes to resurrection. I came across these lines from Cyril that tell it. Let’s get real, friends. If our consciousness somehow survives in a disembodied state, if we have a ghostly existence beyond death, that is not a defeat of death or corruption and we need to be honest. If we can imagine such an existence whatever it is it is not a victory over the grave. Resurrection is as actual as the cross or else death is eternal. And death cannot be eternal because death is not of or from God. Death will eventually be no more and so cannot be of or from God. The reality of the resurrection—for Christ and for us—is a non-negotiable in Christian trust. Death is not the name of God. Life is.

I stopped blaming God: Beyond Divine Omni-causation - Richard Murray

The day I removed the terms "force" and "coercion" out and away from my image of God's character, and replaced them with "wooing" and "influence," so many things began to change for me spiritually. 

I stopped viewing God as an omni-causative "control-freak," an obsessive cosmic puppeteer who pulls all the causative strings of His creation 24/7.

I stopped viewing God as a bipolar "reality rapist" who would capriciously force His will upon us to either execute His wrathful will or His coercive love whenever He "felt like it."

I stopped blaming God for my/our individual and corporate misuses of my/our creaturely freedom. 

I stopped blaming God for the resultant evil which filled the vacuum caused by the angelic and human misuse of their creaturely freedoms. 

In short, I stopped blaming God. 

Instead, I began cultivating and esteeming "God's immutable and unchangeable will to all goodness." – William Law. 

I became fully convinced that, "God is light and in Him is no darkness—at all." 1 John 1:5. 

I resolved to never think, say, or insinuate that God has any causative connection to evil, or that He uses evil as a sculpting tool on us in any way, either passively or actively. James 1:13-17. 

I began to realize that Jesus IS God's complete "disallowance of" and "deliverance from" all evil, a salvation which is being progressively unfurled across all time and space according to the maturity level of His church, bride, and body. The quicker we corporately mature, the quicker the unfurling openly manifests. The slower we corporately mature, the slower the unfurling manifests. This is what Peter means when he exhorts us to "hasten" the fullness of the Lord's coming-- i.e. we CAN "hasten the day of the Lord's fullness." 2 Peter 3:12. The two master ingredients in this are faith and patience. Hebrew 6:12. 

I have concluded that God, for His part, always "hastens to the highest available good" in any and every situation, subject of course to all the various limiting dynamics which exist in a temporally free creation. Until Christ is fully and openly manifest though us as His body and bride upon the earth, the scorched sky of unbelief, misbelief, and disbelief will continue to hinder His will from fully manifesting on earth as it is in Heaven. The Bride's role is to continue to diligently punch holes in this scorched sky so that the Son's curative light can FULLY shine Heavens's will on all our circumstances. Paul tells us all creation is groaning for this scorched sky to be fully dispelled. Romans 8:19-22.

The Treasury of the Sacred vs. the Burden of Novelty - Ken Tanner

One of the great burdens of contemporary forms of church is the (largely) unspoken demand to be original. Every. Single. Weekend.

This is driven by a popular sense in the contemporary American imagination that any practice or words or songs from earlier generations are inferior or stale or not as wise as the words and practices we come up with right here, right now. Our hubris in this assumption is amazing. 

Tied to this in some churches is not only a demand for the new or original or fresh but an urgent sense that the church must always be poised to run toward "the next big thing" God is doing.

This restless disposition is also often connected to the desire for emotional, spontaneous and—this is sometimes missed—"positive" experiences. It *has* to be uplifting. 

This can leave no room for lament or sorrow or the very human experience of loss and defeat. It can be driven by a kind of escapism and denial of the world as it is, motivated by a gnostic vision of some other place than earth, far away from the good creation held hostage, far from the actual world in which the incarnate God is with us, and with all persons, baptized or unbaptized, seeking to save us all and the cosmos he loves on a torturous cross of wood.

The great treasure that we have in the prayers and liturgies and songs and sacrament—and seasons—of the church of the ages is the benefit of collective Christian wisdom, forged in the harsh and fiery conditions of fallen existence across cultures and times and languages and empires other than our own.

Review of Naim Stifan Ateek's "A Palestinian Theology of Liberation" by Ron Dart

Naim Stifan Ateek, A Palestinian Theology of Liberation: The Bible, Justice, and the Palestine-Israel Conflict (Orbis Books, 2017).

It was quite apt and appropriate that A Palestinian Theology of Liberation was published in 2017, very much anticipating 2018 as the 70^thanniversary of the founding of the state of Israel and the Palestinian Nakba in 1948. The violence in Gaza, and elsewhere, in the early months of 2018 have illuminated, in a graphic and raw manner, the fact that the tragedy does ever continue in an unabated way and manner. The sheer beauty and strength of A Palestinian Theology of Liberation is the way Naim Ateek, building on two previous books on this timely and time tried topic (Justice and Only Justice: A Palestinian Theology of Liberation and A Palestinian Christian Cry for Reconciliation) ponders, in a poignant and probing manner, the ongoing tale of two peoples. This is both a small yet large book—the pages are few but the content substantive and large.

Easter Song - Wayne Northey (ft. Keith Green)

WN: While I do not get off on his style of worship, or his seeming smugness about “knowing Jesus” (seen in some other YouTube videos of his performances), Keith Green’s song here is top of the charts for me! Forty plus years ago, we used to listen to this innumerable times throughout the year, but especially at Easter! I’m happy to “resurrect” it this Easter Season.

Speaking of resurrection: there is a person of my acquaintance who used to love this song, once at least by his account pulling over on the road to deal with overwhelming joy in response to its sheer power, an exuberance that touched him emotionally to the core. There came the day however, sadly long since, that it was all rejected, and his “Jesus” became so completely watered down that it is impossible to conjure up an understanding of why “Jesus” was viciously rejected and crucified — if one holds to his (un)belief.  As to then rising again, Dead men simply do not rise, his “scientific” mind asserts dogmatically like the best (or worst) of any religious fundamentalist I have known.

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At least as hard or more so to imagine, it is as impossible to understand why a whole rabble of Jesus followers joyfully joined the ranks of martyrdom in allegiance to that belief — then or since (a rather gargantuan throng of such in fact).

 

 

Mistaken As the Gardener - Brian Zahnd

Mistaken As the Gardener
Brian Zahnd

“Mary Magdalene turned around and saw Jesus standing there,
but she did not know it was Jesus…supposing him to be the gardener.”
–John 20:14, 15

“On the third day the friends of Christ coming at day-break to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away. In varying ways they realized the new wonder; the world had died in the night. What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of a gardener God walked again in the garden, not in the cool of the evening, but in the dawn.”
–G.K. Chesterton

The first person to encounter the risen Christ was Mary Magdalene. It happened in a garden. At first Mary thought Jesus was the gardener. A logical mistake. Or a prophetic mistake. Or a beautiful mistake. Or perhaps not a mistake at all.

On Good Friday Jesus was buried in a garden. A garden is a place to cultivate and grow living things. An appropriate place for Jesus to be buried. A few days before his crucifixion Jesus had said, “Unless a seed falls into the ground and dies it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24) On Holy Saturday the Son of God was a holy seed sown in a peaceful garden. On Easter Sunday the garden brought forth the first fruits of resurrection — “Jesus Christ declared to be the Son of God by resurrection from the dead.” (Romans 1:4)

The first seed raised by God in the garden of resurrection became the gardener. When Mary Magdalene “supposed him to be the gardener,” she was exactly right! Jesus is now the gardener of resurrection, cultivating new life in all who believe. The first Adam was a gardener who failed in his task and the world became a wasteland of war and sin. But the second Adam will succeed in his task — Christ will restore the ruined garden. With Christ as the gardener of new creation we have a hopeful eschatology.

Instead of the thorn bush shall come up the juniper;
Instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle.
–Isaiah 55:13

“On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Nothing accursed will be there anymore.” –Revelation 22:2, 3

Jesus is the gardener who turns blighted wastelands into verdant gardens.