Clarion: Journal of Spirituality and Justice

On Christian Nationalism & 'the Bride of Babylon' - Bradley Jersak

Christian nationalism in any nation is what John the Revelator described as the bride of Babylon, 'the whore' in bed with the Beast (Rev. 17) ... It's an unholy alliance of would-be strongmen and whatever church cares to be bedded by them.

 

Christian nationalism is often comprised of political powers that seduce the church with a promise of moral reforms, harnessing a populist revulsion against hedonism (e.g., frequently distilled to legalized repression of the queer community) and some hated ethnic-religious other (e.g., Jews or Muslims) in order to harness and co-opt the Christian lobby as a political crony for its authoritarian and militarist goals. 

 

Here's a sample from a classic speech:

The National Government will regard it as its first and supreme task to restore to the German people unity of mind and will. It will preserve and defend the foundations on which the strength of our nation rests. It will take under its firm protection Christianity as the basis of our morality, and the family as the nucleus of our nation and our state.

Adolf Hitler, 1933    

The need for authoritarian politicians to develop a religious base is especially true when they turn to expansionist aggression. It is very difficult to send one's children off to die in battle for nationalism or freedom or oil unless one can further sell such a sacrifice to the parents as a sacred religious endeavor (cf. Brian Zahnd, Farewell to Mars). It seems to me that whether Evangelical or Orthodox believers, Eastern or Western, we have in common this Achilles' heel for Christian nationalism, even in weaker states, wherever the Cross is wrapped in their flag.

 

It's rancid and, in fact, not truly Christian at all. It's a death-dealing cult of civil religion with a thin veneer of Jesus-talk, with ethics of moralism that have nothing to do with love for neighbor, especially the most vulnerable.  

 

The good news is found in a closer reading of Revelation indicates that, as in Ezekiel and Hosea, God's heart is to cleanse his adulterous spouse of every stain so that she becomes the spotless bride! This is doable, but apparently not until she experiences the grief of her lovers' fall (Rev. 18) and hears Christ's call to 'come out' of that Babylonian alliance. Until then, she's de facto disqualified herself as a representative and servant of the Prince of Peace. 

 

It remains for me to ask how I am complicit and how I might opt out of that system without simply flying headlong into the opposite ditch. It's always easier to point at the despicable 'them' than to see our own blindspots because we forget that we can feed any ugly tendency by signing on OR by opposing them in the same self-righteous spirit. On that note, I pray this line from Lent Prayer of St. Ephrem, "Lord, help me to see my own faults and not to judge my brother."

 

Lord, have mercy.   

"The One True Church" - Bradley Jersak

My ecclesial journey has included 20 years with the Baptists (via my parents), 10 years with the Mennonites (via marriage), another 10 years with renewal movement folks, including a church plant focused on the margins (mainly people with disabilities, addicts in recovery, etc.), followed by a slow journey into Orthodoxy (via my monk mentor, Lazar Puhalo). Over the years, I have learned to retrieve and appreciate the gifts I received from each of these communions. I am committed to both interchurch fellowship and interfaith charity.

 

So when I run into some Eastern Orthodox believers who insist they are the "one true church," I confess that I sometimes struggle to be kind. My pushback at that lingo includes the following points, which I stand by as I write this:

 

1. People claiming to be the "one true church" are obviously sectarian. Indeed, a pair of them knocked on my door this week. Is that what we're doing now? Are we a cult?

 

2. My great-uncle Karl was a faithful Baptist minister in Czechoslovakia. He was arrested and tortured for his faith. Meanwhile, Orthodox priests were in active collaboration with (or actual members of) the KGB and other Communist secret police forces across Eastern Europe. Please don't presume to tell me Uncle Karl wasn't a "true Christian" or brother in Christ.

 

3. The current Patriarch of Moscow (the world's largest Eastern Orthodox community) is currently in bed with Putin's imperial agenda. During his homilies, he has promised absolution and eternal life to recruit soldiers for the invasion of Ukraine. This is the very definition of anti-Christ.

 

4. I also follow the Orthodox maxim, "We know where grace is. We do not know where it is not." I.e., We believe that we encounter Christ and experience his grace in our communion. We do NOT believe Christ limits his grace to our communion. He is the Light of the world.

 

5. I say all of the above as an Orthodox believer. Relatively speaking, we have too many priests and not enough prophets. I love our liturgy, our theology, our spiritual fathers and mothers, our Psalms and hymns, and our icons and incense. BUT we follow Jesus, not ANY hierarch, canon, or trend that exults ourselves and creates an us-them division with other followers of Jesus Christ.

 

Why? Because to exclude and belittle other believers is an act of direct defiance to the express will of Christ revealed in his High Priestly prayer (John 17). That prayer reveals his deepest desire: that we would be one as he and his Father are one. To defy his will is rebellion. 

 

I know the counterarguments around so-called "false unity." I've heard them all for 20 years now. Every one of them is nothing other than an excuse to narrow Christ's new commandment ("Love one another as I have loved you) to the point of willful disobedience. In the earliest days of my catechism, I was taught that to turn away from love is heresy. It is not to be Orthodox. And if faithfulness to Orthodoxy requires a turn from love, then Orthodoxy is no longer Christian. So please, let us all choose our path most carefully. 

 

What I've said here feels like more than just pushback. Perhaps it is even a shove against the anti-ecumenical rhetoric that once alarmed me but now bores me. So I suppose I'd better get my heart right. And in the meantime, I'm happy for any friends who promote and nourish the unity in the Body of Christ.

 

Here is what I have learned in the Orthodox Church and a good reason for me not to wash my hands of it. I'm quoting word for word:

 

"The one true Church is found wherever we see moments of communion--even between a Hindu and an Atheist. It is visible in this world, not as an institution, but in these exchanges of grace with the Other. And it is incarnational because we meet Christ in them as the Holy Other.

 

"The problem, then, is not so much people leaving 'the church' as it is trying to avoid the discipline of gathering in the mess of a liturgical family, where we encounter those in whom we see our own limitations and stupidity--where we share the same Cup with other sinners, 'of whom I am the chief.'" 

 

That challenge will keep me busy for a lifetime.  

Q&R: "The Tree of Knowing Good from Evil" - Bradley Jersak

^Question

<sup>I just finished Bradley Jersak's June 4, 2023 article: "The Devil...from the Arche." My wrestle is then how the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil could exist in Eden if there was no sin yet. If sin originates with humankind, what was the serpent in the garden? Neither the tree nor the serpent were "created" by humankind.

I am just an unschooled follower of Jesus who loves how relentlessly our triune God loves all of his creation. He's been deepening my awareness of His loving character daily as I wrestle and am humbled daily by my hip being left out of joint.</sup>

^Response

^{These are good questions from your close reading of the passage and some common sense observations. Well done.}

^{First, remember that the story of Eden was not written as factual history but as a poetic parable of the human condition, describing what we all experience.}

^{This is the question of genre. When interpreting the Bible, it is critical that we read poetry as poetry, parables as parables, visions as visions, letters as letters, legends as legends, history as history, etc. But if we forget that and read inspired myth (which is an important way truth is revealed) as if it were ancient history, we will miss the truth the myth was revealing.}

^{Legged Serpent - Ishtar Gate}

^{In this case, we have the story of a man called (literally) 'man' or 'human,' a woman called (literally) 'life,' a tree called 'life' and another tree called 'knowledge of good and evil' and then a talking serpent with legs (at first), like the ones on the Ishtar Gate of Babylon that Daniel would have seen... now on display in the Pergamum Museum in Berlin).}

<sup>What does the serpent represent in the story? It is the wily voice of temptation, the impulse to question God's wisdom, the suggestion that we can be gods without God. Later, Jesus will be confronted by this same temptation, resist and overcome it.

For more on this, read the article by Brian Zahnd and me titled "Q&R: What is Satan? Who Tempted Jesus."</sup> 

^{THE TREE}

^{Now to the "Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil." The tree in and of itself was not evil. The tree describes knowledge or discernment, sorting out or even deciding what is good and what is evil. That's actually good.}

^{Further, evil is already intrinsic as a possibility in the combination of God's command ("Don't touch") and God's gift (human agency). How so? By misusing our agency to disobey the command... Disobedience is not only possible for humanity, even in an untainted world... it almost seems inevitable. Adam and Eve are not presented as perfect (meaning mature) but innocent (as moral toddlers).}   

^{Early Christian teachers suggest that Eden's couple would eventually be given that gift (discernment) as partakers of that fruit as they matured through their walk with God. Through fellowship with God, they would receive the fruit from God's generous hand... when they were ready.}

^{The actual problem, then, was that they wanted to eat the fruit (determine good and evil) for themselves without consulting God or submitting to God's commands. They disobeyed. And human disobedience is the fatal poison that ushers death (as alienation) into the world. I see it in the news every day.}

^{THE STORY OF US}

^{Now how is this story about all of us? We are all born innocent but immature, yet at some point, we are confronted with choices about what is right. It is not only a question of whether we'll do the right thing or not. But the first question is whether we'll take our cues on good vs. evil from God or will we act out of our own self-will and choose to determine for ourselves what is right or wrong... without God?}

^{We often think we know what's best for ourselves and act as if we are gods without God. Then what happens? Things don't go so well. We stumble into shame and alienation, then project our self-loathing onto God, reshaping our image of God as angry and punitive. Someone to hide from.}

^{The good news is that the story continues. God is not like that. Even as we leave the Garden of Paradise, God goes with us and has promised to make it right through the Seed of Eve (Jesus), the One who knows and lives what is right by rejecting the temptation to radical autonomy and instead, overcomes evil through perfect submission to his Father in the second garden (Gethsemane).} 

^{The Great Tradition (ancient church) saw in the Cross of Christ both trees in Eden! First, they saw in the Cross the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil through the responses of the two thieves. One rejects Jesus (and perishes in his defiance), and the other receives Jesus (and enters Paradise). Paul will later say that for some people, the gospel is the fragrance of life and, to others, it is the stench of death. The same Love revealed in Christ can be experienced either way. How so? By turning toward the Cross in surrender or away from the Cross in self-will.}  

^{In Christ's death, we also see the Tree of Life. Christ overthrows death and alienation, and he restores life through his resurrection. He welcomes us back to Eden's Tree of Life (the Cross, which is to say, to himself) so we can partake of HIM (think of the Eucharist as the fruit of that Tree) and experience the eternal kind of life that Jesus describes as knowing God and his Son.}

^{A RADICAL TWIST: GROWING UP}

^{Before I share a radical second reading, let me just explain that there is a long Jewish tradition of biblical interpretation called "midrash," where their oral tradition read between the lines and playfully elaborated on the text to explore ethical or theological questions. Midrash would create sermons and parables from the text and apply them to contemporary concerns.}

^{To modern literalists, Midrash can be charged with "playing fast and loose" with the text, but the New Testament examples abound, with the apostle Paul leading the way. See for example, "The spiritual rock that followed them was Christ" (1 Corinthians 10:4) or the allegory of Sarah and Hagar in Galatians 4:21-31. And yes, Paul calls it an allegory.}

^{As this concerns the Eden story, there are loads of midrash to draw from, both Jewish and Christian, which I've gathered into a CWRm article, "Mary: the Second Eve." Some of these go well beyond the first author's words or intent, which biblicists find offensive. But this is the Tradition I would hope we commit to conserve and learn to emulate. My favorite modern midrash on the story, drawing together midrash from the great Jewish rabbis, is Wm. Paul Young's novel, Eve. Highly recommended! With that in mind, two examples come to mind, one old and one new.} 

^{GREGORY: GROWING PT. 1}

^{In works such as Life of Moses, the great fourth-century Cappodocian teacher, Gregory of Nyssa, discussed the inevitability of 'the fall.' He is my source on the idea of 'Adam's' (human) moral immaturity. He reasoned that in Christ, the creation of humanity will ultimately grow into the fullness or maturity or perfection God intended. But at that outset, while innocent, we were and are immature.}

^{He also saw that in our immaturity, being thrown into a world with the power to choose makes a fall inevitable. Sure, you can obey for a while. Maybe even a long while. But eventually, we're bound to stumble. Learning to crawl, then walk, then run, ride a bike, then drive a car is risky business and not one of us gets through without bumps and bruises.}

^{Gregory extrapolated that for God to throw humanity into a situation where falling in inevitable, then condemning us for it would be unjust. But God is NOT unjust. God is the eternal perfection of justice, which is always restorative. So the only just response to the inevitable fall is mercy. And that is precisely what God has revealed in Christ. God-in-Christ is Mercy Incarnate. So by Genesis 3:15, the ultimate victory of divine mercy has already been announced ('gospeled') to Eve.}    

^{ANDRE: GROWING PT. 2}

^{Again, we're doing midrash here. We're not claiming authorial intent or 'the one meaning.' We're reading between the lines and playing with the text in ways that make sense of our own journey. The Bible itself gives us permission to do that by example, including Jesus!}

^{Bearing that in mind, playing with the myth, my friend Andre responded with his own radical, non-literal but relevant twist on Eden as growing up:}

^{Maybe God didn't 'send' them out. Maybe they had to go and grow up. Like a parent who knows their child has to spread their wings. Like a child who says, "I need to figure this out" or "I can figure this out"... only to come back home with a stronger ability to appreciate and love. I know that was me (although the world outside the garden I grew up in was a step up, sadly).} 

^{I gave two children, two entirely different spirits, both beautiful. And as a parent, I want them to own their journey while also valuing others. The ultimate expression of love is silently crying as they venture away, scared or excited. They're not with you but you're always with them, despite their joys or pains.} 

^{It has to be the same for God. We are made in God's image. And there's that God-shaped vacuum in all of us... in Adam and Eve or like my kids and me.}

^{It would be a tragic irony to rush into a critique or feel the need to point out how Andre's midrash departs from the literal sense of the text. That's the point of midrash. The astute student instead asks, "How is this revision of the text true? True to life? True for me?"}

^{But the advanced student will, I hope, also pick up on Andre's snot-so-subtle clues... that we may discover a connection between the Garden of Eden story and Jesus' parable of the Prodigal Son(s). Especially in the actions of departure and return, and seeing these parables in our own stories as children and parents. For those who want to dive deeper, that's a good path to travel.} 

^{By the way, I would welcome students to pursue these questions with me in the SSU School of Theology and Culture. Check us out, come and play, online or in person. Here's your homework for today:}

1. ^{Compare the Serpent's temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden with Satan's temptation of Jesus in the wilderness.} 
2. ^{Compare the stories of the Garden of Eden and the Garden of Gethsemane,}
3. ^{Compare the two trees in Eden with the one Tree (and three Trees) on Golgotha.} 
4. ^{Compare the story of Eden with the parable of the Prodigals.}   

^{Watch for similarities, for differences, and most of all, how these stories are about how the Good News of Jesus meets the human condition as told in your own story.} 

Q&R: What is Satan? Who tempted Jesus? Brian Zahnd & Bradley Jersak

Question:

How are we to understand “Satan” or “the satan”?

Brian Zahnd:

I don’t know that we fully can, but I understand the satan to be a cosmic spiritual-psychic phenomenon arising from idolatry and accusation, reaching its ultimate form in anti-human empire.

Thus, for Isaiah, Lucifer is the King of Babylon who falls with the fall of Babylon. The satan is more than a metaphor, but less than a person; by that I mean the satan, though a very real and dangerous phenomenon, does not actually possess ontological being. The satan, like evil itself, is parasitic in nature. It cannot exist independently because it is not created by God. The satan can only exist by colonizing a host. If there is no host for the satan, the satan ceases to exist at all. Indeed, the devil is presented in Revelation as having “great wrath, because he knows that his time is short.”

Though the satanic is properly a phenomenon and not a person, the satanic phenomenon is so real, so powerful, so deadly, so destructive, that we cannot help but personify the satanic as Satan. This is probably a necessary and helpful move.

And if we associate the satanic with a fallen angel, surely it arises from an instinctual understanding that the very worst is nothing but the diabolical corruption of the very best. 

Question:

If the satan is not a person, who or what tempted Jesus in the wilderness?
What are Matthew 4:1-11, Mark 1:12, Luke 4:1-13 all about then?

Bradley Jersak:

That is a great question and—full disclosure—involves theological speculation. Nothing we can dogmatize. But let's start with a few aspects of the story of Jesus’s temptation in the wilderness, seven points about which we have some confidence:

• We know that Jesus faced and overcame a three-fold temptation in the wilderness.
• Oddly, all three Synoptic Evangelists describe the Spirit leading Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted by "the devil" or “the satan.”
• When Jesus resists the devil, Matt. 4 quotes Jesus as saying, "Get away from me, Satan."
• We are confident that Jesus was there alone without other human witnesses.
• Therefore, we know that Jesus himself reported the temptations to his disciples, whose testimony the Gospels later record for us to read.
• In his account, Jesus personifies the devil or Satan. He believed this was the best way to tell us the story.
• We know that sometimes when addressing Satan, Jesus was not literally talking to a being called Satan, but specifically to any person or idea that tries to tempt him to bypass the Cross. E.g., He says to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan" (Mark 8:33, Matthew 16:23).

Again, Jesus is not at all averse to describing the works of the devil using personification... and this is why the claim that Satan is less than a person is still speculation, even if well-founded theologically. We don't make a dogma of it. We are, rather, challenging whether the assertion that the devil IS a literally a person, a fallen angel, or a sentient being should be taught as doctrine.

But now to your question. IF Satan is less than a person, what was Jesus dealing with? Michael Hardin, who wrote a booklet called "The Satan" (https://www.clarion-journal.com/files/fb-posts-on-the-satan-e-book1.pdf) suggested to me that we might think of the Satan in Matthew 4/Luke 4 as "Jesus' potential shadow side." What does that mean?

Romans 8 tells us that Jesus came "in the likeness of sinful human flesh," and Hebrews 2 and 4 insists that in the Incarnation, Jesus’s humanity was in every way like ours, tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. Similarly, Gregory the Theologian said that Christ assumed every aspect of human nature in order to heal every aspect of human nature.

SO, if the temptations of Jesus were real (they were), we might speak of his temptations as approaching him externally (as the devil or satan). Jesus talked that way. But we might also think about temptation as an authentic part of the human condition—suggestions from the flesh or passions calling us to grasp our destiny autonomously (as with Adam and Eve). As part of the human condition, Jesus had to face and overcome those impulses personally and on behalf of us all. Why? (1) For him to be fully human and (2) for salvation to extend to every aspect of our humanity.

Hardin’s description then needs to be read VERY carefully. Did Jesus have a 'shadow side'? Michael doesn’t say that. He says *potential* shadow side... meaning (1) the temptation was authentic, (2) temptation is intrinsic to human nature, (3) but Christ faced it fully and overcame it entirely.

IF Satan is not a person, Jesus nevertheless felt personifying his struggle was the best way to describe it, exactly like my alcoholic friends describe "wrestling with their demons." They aren’t claiming to be “possessed,” but recognize how externalizing the temptations can be helpful in resisting them.  

Again, if Jesus used personification, he recognized it was as a good way to describe our battle with temptation. Why? From contemporary counseling practice and addition recovery, we have learned ways to resist temptation by externalizing destructive impulses and disowning as a false self, rather than wrongly over-identifying with it and assuming the shame of the temptation (e.g., “I am evil”).

On the other hand, the main reason to proceed to demythologizing the devil's personhood is when people skirt their agency and responsibility, saying, "The devil made me do it," as if giving in to temptation is not something they need to own. So says Paul, “By one man, sin entered the world, and death through sin” (Romans 5:12). 

For more on the temptations of Jesus in the wilderness: https://brianzahnd.com/tag/satan/

"The Devil... from the Arché" - Bradley Jersak

Brooke Quist, a new friend of mine through Open Table Conference, blew my mind. He was asking for my thoughts on who or what Satan (the satan) or the devil is. After sharing a few of the thoughts I’ve gleaned from René Girard, Michael Hardin, Brian Zahnd, and especially my son Dominic Jersak, Brooke was eventually able to get a word in edgewise with his own discoveries.

He told me how he had been praying for illumination on two texts from the Johannine corpus (John's Gospel and first epistle):

John 8:44  You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

1 John 3:8  The one who does what is sinful is of the devil, because the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the devil’s work.  

I’ve spent a fair bit of time on these texts, pondering how the New Testament regularly describes all people as God’s children—most overtly in Ephesians 3:15 and Acts 17:28, but also assumed in the parable of the prodigal sons (Luke 15). How, then, do John and Jesus himself, think of Christ's opponents as children of the devil? Elsewhere, I’ve concluded that they’re referring simply to children-by-imitation, rather than by nature.  

But what jumped out at Brooke was in a different register. In the Gospel passage, Jesus describes the devil as “a murderer from the beginning.” And in 1 John, the devil has been sinning from the beginning.

As Brian Zahnd has pointed out, John 8 is reflecting on the first murder at the foundation of human civilization—Cain’s fratricide in Genesis 4. And he was there in humanity’s foundational sin: “through one man (Adam), sin entered the world” (Romans 5:12).

But wait. The devil has been this way for how long? A murderer and sinner since when? From the beginning—ap’ archē (ἀπ’ἀρχῆς). That word, arché, is the same “beginning” as in Genesis 1:1 (Greek Septuagint — In the beginning, God created…) and John 1:1 (John 1:1 — In the beginning was the Word). It’s a far fuller expression than from the start (protos). It’s more like from the very foundations or from the ground up.        

And suddenly, I saw the implications for Christianity’s dominant “Satan origin story.” By way of review:

We believed that the Devil or Satan began as Lucifer, God’s principal archangel and worship leader, but through jealousy and rebellion, fell from heaven with a third of the angels, who became demons. But the truth is that the biblical basis for that storyline is extremely thin and often requires dubious leaps. The tradition is funded more by intertestamental Jewish literature (especially Enoch) and Babylonian mythology, amplified in medieval Christianity, perfected in William Blake's Paradise Lost, to where we inherited and assumed their demonology as dogmatic truth.

But contra that narrative, Jesus tells us the devil has always been a murderer from the beginning, the arché. Further, Jesus says, the devil’s native language (literally, “he speaks out of his own” — ἐκ τῶν ἰδίων λαλεῖ), and his first tongue is lying.     

In other words, these texts suggest the devil did not pre-exist in the beginning as God’s highest archangel. Lucifer was not a holy angelic leader who rebelled and fell into the archdemon existence as Satan. The devil, satan, has always been a murderer and liar from the beginning. So says Jesus.

This discovery creates new questions that require fresh wrestling on the following points:

1. This beginning cannot be the same beginning as the foundational arche of the cosmos, because Genesis 1 and John 1 agree that God-through-Christ-by-the Spirit created ALL things and that God declared the whole of creation “Good.”

That’s partly why the Lucifer mythology seemed necessary. God created all things and did not create anything evil, so if the devil is an evil creature, then it must have first been good and then become evil. So we developed a war in heaven / angelic fall narrative to squeeze between Genesis 1:1 and 1:2. And it works until you read John 8 carefully.

2. But we’ve already seen where Jesus, John, and Paul identity the devil’s arché. The foundational act or moment ascribed to the devil is in the first lie (“you shall not surely die”), the first sin (turning from the Light of God), and the first murder (Cain killing Abel).

From this perspective, Satan has been evil from the beginning, and that beginning is founded on human sin. In that sense, the devil or satan or evil is not so much a sentient creature of whom God once said, “Let there be…and it was good,” but rather, the monstrous personification of human sin.

As the early church said, evil has no being as such, but is a privation of or turning away from the Good. As Dominic Jersak once said, “...created by people out of the ashes of war, tears of those who are afraid, and the stuff that people want that doesn’t belong to them—and takes on a ‘life’ of its own, turns on us, and torments us.” Or, as Brian Zahnd has so helpfully said,

The satan is more than a metaphor but less than a person; by that, I mean the satan, though a very real and dangerous phenomenon, does not actually possess ontological being. The satan, like evil itself, is parasitic in nature. It cannot exist independently because it is not created by God. The satan can only exist by colonizing a host. If there is no host for the satan, the satan ceases to exist at all. Indeed, the devil is presented in Revelation as having “great wrath, because he knows that his time is short.” Though the satanic is properly a phenomenon and not a person, the satanic phenomenon is so real, so powerful, so deadly, so destructive, that we cannot help but personify the satanic as Satan.

Brian thinks that personifying Satan is probably necessary and helpful. Certainly, the Bible talks about it that way, especially in the fall narrative, the prologue of Job, and the temptations of Jesus, Peter, and Judas.

Allow me an illustration of why this is so. I interviewed a counselor who works with children who molest other children and asked her, “Does anything work?” She described one approach that can help, which experts call “externalization.” She helps molesters identify their experience of an overwhelming impulse to assault other children—an impulse from within that arises from factors such as genetic dispositions, previous traumas, and/or broken propensities. And while the children are held accountable for their own acts, they are also seemingly powerless to resist those impulses.

So the effective counselor will begin by externalizing and personifying the impulse by asking,

“Can you feel it coming toward you before it happens?”

Yes.

“If you could imagine it coming toward you, what would it look like?”

e.g., A dark angel. An ugly monster. 

“And if you gave that monster a name, what would you call it?”

e.g., The devil. Freddy.

“And if we could see it coming, what ‘weapons’ would you need to resist it?”

e.g., a shield, a sword, angelic warriors, an unbeatable Champion.

My counselor friend was describing the basics of “spiritual warfare” that we’ve learned in Ephesians 6—but now discovered through therapeutic practice outside the Christian worldview!

The balance here is that, on one hand, the child doesn’t get to say, “The devil made me do it,” and absolve themselves. But it also distinguishes the heart of the child from the evil impulses themselves. This creates a breakthrough because it both empowers the child’s agency (you can resist the devil and it will flee from you). But it also begins to wash away the shame that comes by identifying themselves with (and empowers) the impulse.  

To me, that’s a powerful reason to personify the satanic forces at work in this world, while also owning humanity's role in generating them. And while I’ve thought through much of this for years, Quist’s prayerful exegesis of Jesus’ view of “the devil from the beginning” feels like a clincher to be taken seriously.

Some humble caveats: (1) these are speculations about mysteries, insufficient to be regarded as doctrine; (2) these are not the only relevant texts in Scripture or interpretations in the tradition; (3) this is one perspective on the demonic, which does not exclude other phenomena, including the diverse realities or experiences of angels, righteous or fallen, actual or symbolic.

"BY WATER: The Felix Manz Story" - A Graphic Novel - Review by Bradley Jersak

"In a city astir with dangerous new ideas, the son of a Catholic priest becomes a leader of a nonviolent revolution." –back cover

Five hundred years ago, Europe was set ablaze by the violence and wars of the Catholic-Protestant schism, where priests and reformers alike aligned with the magisterial powers to attain political and religious dominance over the continent. Reformers such as Luther, Calvin, and Zwingli hived away from the authority of the spiritual corruption of the Pope and his armies, only to employ their own forms of violence and coercion to take control.  

While theological debates over grace vs. works offered a doctrinal smokescreen for church-state powerplays, one had to wonder where, if anywhere, the peaceable kingdom of Christ, described in the Sermon on the Mount, was to be found.  

Enter the "Radicals" (aka the Anabaptists), a third way that proclaimed the prophetic vision of peace, sharing, and freedom. They took the "Jesus Way" of nonviolent revolution of real discipleship as a life-and-death matter, and that great Anabaptist history, The Martyr's Mirror, describe the many thousands who perished by water, fire, or sword at the cruel hands of both Catholic and Reformed "Christian" inquisitors. The blood of these martyrs, who perished without retaliation, became the seed of great networks of communal enclaves and mass movements, many of which survive today (e.g., Mennonites, Amish, Hutterites, and as though born out of time, the Bruderhof). Trying to snuff them out proved as useless as taking a hammer to mercury.

But how did it all begin? By Water: The Felix Manz Story is the gripping adventure of the first generation of Anabaptists and their first martyr, Felix Manz. This is the true story of a conflict between a young man and his own spiritual father, Ulrich Zwingli, wrestling with new ideas that finally cross into bold acts of faith and defiance... beginning with a baptismal pledge to follow Jesus, even unto death. Ultimately, Manz's mentor will ironically have him drowned, and church history will never be the same. As Christ said, in this order, "Blessed are the peacemakers, they will be called children of God," which then leads Manz and his company to be among those "Blessed ... who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of God... for so they treated the prophets who came before you."

I have found the current era of politicized religion, from Russia to America, so disheartening that one wonders where The New Radicals will arise with a revolution that doesn't involve the right to bear arms or the religious lust for state-sanctioned power. We desparately need to hear these inspiring stories of peaceable courage, histories that move us and call us to a real heart-change like what we see in Manz.

Plough Publishing, one of the great gifts of the Bruderhof Communities, has produced this stunning story in the form of a graphic art non-fiction, By Water, created by Jason Landsel, Sankha Banerjee, and Richard Mommsen. The script, the art, the colors, and layout represent Plough's typical over-the-top quality in 141 gorgeous pages. The price seems unreasonably low for its exquisite quality, but I'm not surprised given the Bruderhof's track record of high-end generosity. I like leaving my copy where guests will stumble on it and become hooked in short order, engrossed in the storyline, the visuals, and the conversation to follow. Even the most cynical will surely consider Manz's interpretation of Christian faith and its demands compelling.

P.S. This is first of three volumes. Next to come, By Fire.

With gratitude,

Bradley Jersak 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IRPJ.org Presents: "The Experience & Practice of Mutual Respect Across Faiths"

IRPJ.org Presents:
"The Experience & Practice of Mutual Respect Across Faiths"

The Institute for Religion, Peace & Justice (IRPJ.org) hosted a conversation on the topic of "The Experience & Practice of Mutual Respect Across Faiths."

The Hosts, Bradley Jersak and Andrew Klager welcomed guest lecturers from Jewish, Muslim & Christian traditions, including Safi Kaskas, Nahid Saiyed, Mark Braverman, Dawud Abdur-Rahman, and Mercy Aiken.

Each speaker shares their own perspective on developing mutual respect in the work we do as peacemakers in the world. Students of the IRPJ Certificate program then responded with questions for our guests.

For those who want university-accredited training in the work of Peace & Justice, IRPJ.org offers one-year certificates (online - BA or MA levels) and an MA in Peace Studies. See our website for more information.

Mark Braverman with Bradley Jersak

Mark Braverman is a Jewish author, activist, and organizer for Palestinean rights in Israel. He is the executive director of Kairos USA.

In this interview with Bradley Jersak, he discusses his journey as a young Zionist, through deconstruction, and through his engagement with Palestinean Christians in the West Bank, forward to becoming the Jew he always wanted to be. He describes his "Damascus Road" experience in the context of the reconciliation of Jacob and Esau.

His ministry is as a Jew, speaking to Christians: "I know what it is to be a follower of Jesus. You know what to do when you see the naked man, beaten and laying in the ditch. You know what you need to do when you see injustice and inequality and suffering. Step up, whether it's in your backyard or in another continent... Stand up for the oppressed... And I pray for the day when you don't need a Jew's permission to be a follower of Jesus."

In this interview, he shares his story, addresses political and theological questions, including three questions:

• Is challenging human rights abuses in Israel antisemitic?
• Are the New Testament Gospels antisemitic?
• Is Christian Zionism antisemitic? 

Recommended links from Mark:

https://kairossouthernafrica.wordpres...

https://www.kairospalestine.ps/sites/...

https://kairosusa.org/wp-content/uplo...

https://www.palestineportal.org/

http://markbraverman.org/

Deconstructing Deconstruction – Felicia Murrell (w/ Bradley Jersak)

Deconstructing Deconstruction – Felicia Murrell (w/Brad Jersak)

Editor’s Note: The following interview is a partial transcript of one for four forthcoming podcast interviews on “deconstruction” at Stephen Backhouse’s Tent Theology Podcast. Bradley Jersak will be serving as co-host in interviews with Brian Zahnd, David Hayward, Felicia Murrell, and Judith Moses (recorded in that order).  

 

Bradley

Definition: First, the word “deconstruction,” popularly used today, has become a catchphrase for a range of experiences from voluntary to involuntary, from liberating to traumatic, from personal to social, that involve a dismantling or restructuring of one’s belief systems (religious or ideological). Understood this way, one may experience a process of disorientation and reorientation that holds its own perils and possibilities.

In your world and your story, what other words or metaphors might best describe this phenomenon? What might that look like in the communities you work with? Examples of both the pitfalls and breakthroughs are most welcome. 

 

Felicia

My work is largely one-on-one spiritual companioning and it’s the work of accompanying, of listening, of sharing and bearing witness, being human in the presence of one another with all of our eff ups and complexities and beauties and joys.

In carrot on a stick religion that uses your imperfections to keep you chasing healing, chasing wholeness, chasing blessings, too often we hand our power over to something outside ourselves. We are always looking for external validation, external permission. Led by the opinions of others — what others think, what others say is true and right…how others say we should live, dress, talk…who we should love or sleep with…what we should read, what movie we can watch…what we are to believe— it feels natural to “let someone else control us,” to unconsciously hand over the reins and allow someone else guide us externally. Honestly, it’s not something we often question because most of our lives, whether our parents, our religious leaders, our coaches, or our bosses, someone outside of ourselves has told us what to do and how to be. So, it feels natural …until it doesn’t. Sometimes this rupture, this process of deconstructing, happens naturally and sometimes unnaturally, sometimes by way of invitation, sometimes by way of force.

But I’m struck by the portion of Psalm 32:8, “…I’ll guide you with my eye.” And for me, it seems like an invitation to be led from the inside out instead of the outside in. So the process of deconstruction becomes something like allowing the pillars of certainty and arrogance to collapse so we can join Love in a dance of unknowing that requires humility and trust. This in itself is its own homecoming, moving from an external guide to internal guide, the eye of Love.

"Out of the Embers: Faith after the Great Deconstruction" - Ron Dart interview with Bradley Jersak

"I can only get to Alyosha via Ivan": Confessions of a Grumpy Universalist - Adrian Lovegrove w/ Bradley Jersak

The following was a conversation via email between Adrian Lovegrove and Bradley Jersak over the final weeks of 2022. 

 

ADRIAN LOVEGROVE

I began formal theological study back in 2011. I could no longer buy the evangelical package deal, but I hoped there might be a theology for a good God somewhere. I guess I've now reached the place of "grumpy universalism."

By "grumpy," I mean in the sense of Ivan's argument in the Brothers Karamazov about the acquisition of truth not being worth the cost of the little child's suffering. Or, put another way, David Bentley Hart's argument concerning the moral implications of creatio ex nihilo, pretty much leaves God with the obligation to bring all he has freely created to its telos, if we're going to call him "good." Consequently, I'm currently finding it hard to feel grateful to God for sending Jesus to rescue everything because it currently seems to me it is entirely God's responsibility to fix the problem he – as the first cause – literally created. 

I appreciate I'm talking as a blinkered and broken creature "looking through a glass darkly" at the inscrutable purposes of the Ground of all existence. I imagine if I were a proper Christian, I could do the "how long, O Lord," and "come quickly, Lord" without losing my temper. But right now, God just pisses me off, and -- though it is a denial of metaphysics since there can be nowhere where God isn't -- I'd really rather not be around him. I have sympathies with the one-talent guy. I guess I have a trust issue.

It's not that I don't like Jesus. It's not that I don't think (from all the ideas I have been exposed to) he has the best things to say about the most important stuff. It's not that I don't think his incarnation was infinitely costly. It's just that it currently seems to me that the things Jesus ultimately rescued us from – satan, sin and death – are all things of his own making.

Have you found ways of getting past this sort of thing to being a decent human being again?

Peace

Ade

 

BRADLEY JERSAK

Hi Ade, 

What a good and important question. 

Let me boil it down to your two punchline points...

1. It currently seems to me that the things Jesus ultimately rescued us from—satan, sin, and death—are all things of his own making.

 

2. Have you found ways of getting past this sort of thing to be a decent human being again?

On the first question, I see your point. And this is where Simone Weil saved my faith through her honesty and her cosmology. 

First, she says that we are faced with two contraries... the Goodness of God and the affliction of humanity.

The two are a real contradiction. There's an infinite distance between the two. We'll come back to that. 

In terms of cosmology, she does something similar. She speaks about (1) gravity and (2) grace or (1) the necessary and (2) the good.

And she regards these pairs as ways that God governs the cosmos. She says that ultimately, gravity and grace are both aspects of the GOOD, but humanity cannot conceive of their union. It's not possible from a human perspective. The GOOD transcends knowing. All we have is our experience, and in our experience, they appear as virtual opposites. To define them...

1. Gravity / the Necessary: refers to the necessary and unbendable pre-conditions for Life and Love, which are why and how God creates the cosmos. Life and Love are the point, the arche (foundations), and the telos (endgame) of the cosmos. God is the first and final cause of life and love. But for life and love to be possible, he must make space (kenosis) for their secondary causes, without which, they cannot be. The necessary pre-condition for life is natural law. And the necessary pre-condition for love is human agency. Without natural law and human agency, there is no possible outcome where life and love come to be that reflects God's life and love.

From these preconditions, all beauty emerges. Beauty as such is manifest in natural law and human agency to such a divine degree that we are tempted to worship them. They are, after all, appearances or images of the God in whom they have being. 

But there is a shadow side. For God to be Love, rather than coercive force, he cannot and does not violate natural law or human agency. If God did so, God would not be Love. And if God does so, God is lousy at it. The arbitrary violation of natural law or human agency would be a Deux Machina that would make all of creation an illusion and all God's creatures puppets. 

The shadow side of natural law is tragedy. The tectonic plates that keep us from sinking into magma rub together and create earthquakes and tsunamis that wipe out cities. The gravity that prevents us from flying to our deaths in space also pulls us to our death when we step off a cliff. This is necessary. But it is not beautiful. It is tragic. 

The shadow side of human agency is evil. The same freedom through which I can willingly turn toward love can be misused to turn willfully from love and toward indifference or hatred or violence. And we exercise this misuse of our passions all the time. That God makes space for this is necessary. In love, he consents to our freedom, and with our freedom, we defy him and wreak havoc. 

This is necessary, but as Weil says, there is an infinite distance between the necessary and the good in our real experience.   

And if we were to stop there, we would just be Deists and to be greatly pitied. Such a God offers consent without participation, and that is not love. So she continues:

2. Grace / the Good: refers to God's willing participation in our world through the mutual consent (surrender, participation) of willing human partners. I explain all of this in more detail in A More Christlike God, but basically, God does not wind up the clock and leave us to our tragedies and evils. He enters the scene in the Incarnation and undergoes them to the nth degree (at the Cross), through which, enters the shadowy abyss, not as an intervention that violates the secondary causes, but as the divine Lover who participates in their healing at every level.

And there on the Cross, he spans the infinitive distance as our affliction and his goodness intersect in his own wounds. Is God the cause of tragedy and evil? Yes and No. He is not the direct cause of any tragedy or evil (that derives from the shadows of secondary causes), BUT because he is ultimately responsible for secondary causes, his only just response is full participation and unfailing mercy, revealed on the Cross. Further, it means that WE are completely responsible to participate in the restoration of all things through our willing surrender to that same cruciform life, as feeble and foolish as it seemed to Paul's opponents in 1 Cor. 1.     

Ivan Karamazov gives what I think is the very best case against Christian faith. 

But for Dostoevsky himself, co-suffering love is the only adequate and completely sufficient response.

I suppose Weil's theology is a metaphysical expression of Alyosha's kiss, for which Ivan could offer no real refutation.  

This leads us to your final question:

Have you found ways of getting past this sort of thing to be a decent human being again?

Only by willing surrender to the cruciform way one day at a time, which for me has required a program of recovery outlined in the 12 steps. Which is to say, on some days. Which is to say, I have a lot of grumpy days but fewer days where I try to overcome through self-will, which is how I (we all) got into this mess in the first place. And I'm still pretty damn grumpy.

All of the above is an explanation of an experience.

I have not found the explanation satisfying, but I did find the experience transformative. 

Thanks for reaching out. 

 

ADRIAN LOVEGROVE

Hi Brad,

Thanks so much for having the grace, and for taking the time, to lay this out so clearly, fully, and candidly in response to my last rant-o-gram. In the wilderness wandering of de/reconstruction, it's always reassuring to encounter folks who have already been there, and who know what it is to score highly on the grump-o-meter.

It seems to me that Ivan and Alyosha represent the only two sane responses to the insuperable contradiction (from a creaturely perspective) of a good God and the suffering of his creation and its creatures. I can take Ivan's place of accusation – which was rather the tenor of my last email to you – or I can take Alyosha's place of faith.

I hesitate to use the word "faith" because I think what we are talking about here is deeper than anything I have heard presented in my Christian experience. I've never read Simone Weil, but here is how I think I now understand faith from your description of her helpful thinking. It is no blind thing. It stares down the barrel of the gun of the suffering of creation without denial or dissociation. It makes no trite claims about God "being in control," or "moving in mysterious ways," or "working all things for good." Instead, it anchors itself in the character of the God-with-us revealed to us in the Christ-event, and on that basis is willing to give that God the benefit of the doubt on the inscrutable question of whether it would have been better not to have created given the risks involved.

Of course, such faith also goes further: choosing to adopt the ways and means of love shown and taught by Christ as the only meaningful approach to existence, within one's small sphere of influence, for whatever short time one has. And in that mustard-seed-sowing, yeast-kneading way, it finds its rest – "the easy yoke." But I'm not sure this "going further" to the place of Alyosha is possible without having settled "the character of God" question. And I'm not sure it's possible to settle this question without going via the place of Ivan, because until we have been there we have not really seen what is at stake.

Two things strike me.

First, having been to Ivan's place, it is very hard not to be a universalist. If this journey doesn't ultimately end well, for everything that the Creator has freely brought into existence, then I can currently see no moral justification for it having been embarked upon in the first place. That is essentially Dr. Hart's argument from creatio ex nihilo again. Perhaps I am still bargaining with God here, rather than simply surrendering to his infinitely better judgment. But I would prefer to love a demonstrably good God than grudgingly comply with an apparently amoral one.

Second, in terms of "demonstrably good," I used to think "the cross as a demonstration of God's character" was one of the weaker Protestant theories of atonement. As it happens, I'm not especially enamoured of such theories now, given the grander vision of salvation that folks like you and Dr. Hart have exposed me to. But for what it's worth, I'm currently feeling like it is the most important "theory" of all. When one bottoms out to where Ivan is, the only hope one has is in the character of God in spite of everything. I'm not privy to the pros and cons of to-create-or-not-to-create. I'm no longer academically interested in what was administratively or legally accomplished on Good Friday. What my heart needs to know is that God is good and that I can trust him. Now. In my actual life.

Wishing you and yours a peaceful and grump-free Christmas,

Ade

 

BRADLEY JERSAK

Thanks Adrian,

I feel like you've made some important points here that I will reflect on. 

First, YES, you are hearing me right re: Weil. Please read Weil, Awaiting God, chapter 2: "The Love of God and Affliction."

Second, she is my best example of your assertion that we only get to Alyosha via Ivan (a brilliant statement) and that this is precisely what she has done. Your restatement of how she does that is beautiful and it works. In a way, she represents the hypostatic union of Ivan and Alyosha (though I guess Dostoevsky already did). 

Third, exactly this: "I would prefer to love a demonstrably good God than grudgingly comply with an apparently amoral one."

And therefore, "having been to Ivan's place, it is very hard not to be a universalist." 

If God is good and good means anything at all other than evil, it simply can't be otherwise. And it isn't. And Jesus said so. "If I am lifted up, I WILL draw all people to myself." How? Via the Cross. 

And finally, "What my heart needs to know is that God is good and that I can trust him. Now. In my actual life."

YES. He cannot just be 'caring,' but somehow must be a real 'caregiver' in real life.

In light of the real affliction that we witness and experience, arriving there is inexplicable... yet somehow, I did. And that involved seeing the mystery of the union of my affliction to his. Not an explanation or theodicy. A Mystery. But real. 

Speaking of grumpy, I remember at one of my low points, mainly not functioning, binge-watching "House" with Hugh Laurie... my word of the year, stolen from him, was "Idiot!" 

My son called 2008 "the year Dad became harsh." I had to make my way via Ivan to Weil, as my path followed from defiance through decreation to acceptance and surrender. 

Blessed by your name,

Bradley Jersak

 

ADRIAN LOVEGROVE

Hi Brad,

You credit me with too much brilliance since, while I did originally write something like "I can only get to Alyosha via Ivan," I didn’t end up writing it quite so succinctly to you. Instead, I thought I had better explain what I meant by that. What I came up with was more long-winded, but that is the kernel of thought that you still picked up on, thankfully. It represents a take on the insight of Weil’s which is currently giving me hope in what I have euphemistically called my "grumpiness."

She has effectively stood, like me, in the place of Ivan and admitted that all he says is true. Yet she has also seen it is not the whole truth. Human suffering is real, and must be reckoned with, if any theological discourse is to have any credibility. But, to use your phrase, "self-giving, radically forgiving, co-suffering love" is also real, and also has to be reckoned with, as God's response in and through Christ, and in and through those trying to follow him. It can probably never provide the explanation my head needs, but it can provide the experience my heart needs, as you have found.

At least from a creaturely perspective, Ivan's place is legitimate. But so is Alyosha's place. And that was the hope that arose in me as I read your summary of Weil. I don't have to deny what Ivan sees in order to affirm what Alyosha sees. I don't have to disconnect myself from what is presently intolerable to also attach myself to what is ultimately restorative. And it is in that tension that, for me, the OT "how long, O Lord," and the NT "Our Lord, come," now makes better sense. They can only be prayed from the place of Alyosha, not from the place of Ivan (but only after having been there). And therein is my hope.

Peace

Ade

 

C.S. Lewis, Atonement & Universal Salvation - Bradley Jersak

UNIVERSAL SALVATION

While I am convinced of the NT promise of ultimate redemption, I continue to be reluctant to identify myself personally with the label 'universalism.' That is mainly because its opponents typically assume they know what that word means, and have falsely accused me of not believing in the gravity of sin, the necessity of the Incarnation is necessary, the centrality of the Cross, the importance of a faith response, or in the dire warnings of a forthcoming judgment. I have found it difficult to convince them that I believe these are all crucial to the apostolic gospel, despite affirming each of these essentials in my published books and blogs over the past twenty years. At some point, the slander should be regarded as willful, and I do believe infernalists should join me in taking 1 Corinthians 6:10 to heart.   

But one reason that Evangelical and Orthodox universalists of good faith continue to be maligned is that so many pop-universalists have lived down to the caricatures of which we're accused and have readily dispensed with the gospel altogether. So for me, "universalism" is too big an umbrella term. At the very least, in needs the parameters of a limiting adjective, such as "Patristic Universalism." As for me, I opt to drop the -ism altogether and prefer to cite the many biblical texts that announce a gospel of "ultimate redemption" or "apokatastasis" (the restoration of all things) by "the Saviour of the world." 

I'm inclined to say, "I am not a universalist (by your definition), but I do believe in ultimate redemption." Then inquirers who hear that as a contradiction at least have to ask me what I mean. Some (okay, many) who ask come from traditions of zealous biblicism (as I have), so I am pleased to cite Scripture upon Scripture (in context), beginning with Jesus Christ's promise, "If I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself" and remind them that God's plan has been revealed in Ephesians 1 (the summing up of all things in Jesus Christ) and 1 Corinthians 15 (that God will be all in all). I can go on for dozens of verses on that, but then I also like to add, "I am a conservative on these things, opting to conserve the Tradition as we see it in Macrina the Younger, Gregory of Nyssa, Isaac of Nineveh, and especially the hymnology of the Great Tradition..." Then I show them many many samples of weekly songs from the Octoechos. At that point, I may say, "You may still believe in the hell of eternal conscious torment, but I believe ... [and I cite the Symbol of Faith, aka Nicene Creed], which means we may disagree, but any charge of heresy is above our paygrade. 

A HEALING TORMENT

"So you don't believe in hell?" Sigh. Of course I do. See, for example, my book Her Gates Will Never Be Shut or my many blogs affirming divine judgment and the importance of talking about hell (better). It's just that when the Bible speaks about hell, there's a powerful case to be made from the Bible itself that it's not describing infernalism (eternal conscious torment)... including the 'gotcha' verses in Jesus' parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25.

One friend (who I'll take the heat for), talks about "Gehenna" (the word often translated as "hell" in the NT) this way:  

"If Gehenna is the torment of the conscience, then it should be a healing torment that works for redemption, 'the restoration of all things,' as the apostle Peter says, the end to the alienation between the human nature and the Divine nature." 

LEWIS ON ATONEMENT & HELL

At the roots of the controversy are two very different understandings of God's nature. In the Orthodox tradition of which I am a part, we see nothing in the nature of God that demands retribution through violence. This has implications for our understanding of both the atonement and the Day of Judgement.

"But," I am asked, "if God doesn't satisfy his wrath through the death of his Son, then why did Jesus die?" It's a fair question until it extends to another common accusation: "Then you believe Jesus didn't need to die and that the Cross is dispensable." An odd leap, and hurtful, considering the centrality of the Cross in books such as Stricken by God?, A More Christlike God, and From the Cave to the Cross. 

Now CS Lewis is an interesting case, both on the atonement and on the topic of hell (both following the man he called his 'master,' George MacDonald).

Re: the atonement, Lewis retrieves the theology of the early church (especially Athanasius), and he refutes standard penal substitution theory (especially as wrath-appeasement), which he explicitly rejects in both Mere Christianity and in his letters to Bede Griffiths. And he sets up the Patristic alternative in his Chronicles of Narnia. In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, you get the combination of biblical themes--the ransom paid for freedom AND the plunder of the strongman's house, both reflecting the Hebrew Exodus narrative. Readers might enjoy this 1-page article I wrote about that: 

https://www.clarion-journal.com/clarion_journal_of_spirit/2016/03/god-is-not-the-witch-cs-lewis-on-the-atonement-brad-jersak.html   

On the topic of hell, The Great Divorce was amazing. My favourite Lewis book. He leaves the door open (as does Revelation 21-22) to human agency and the perpetual possibility of a response, without dogmatizing the redemption of all (even if Paul does so in Eph. 1, Phil. 2, Rom. 5, Rom. 11, 1 Cor. 15, etc.).

But beyond that fictional classic, it's worth pondering and responding to Lewis' claim that "The doors of hell are locked from the inside" (from The Problem of Pain). 

First, he is obviously refuting literalist readings of texts where Christ or his angels are represented as actively casting the damned into the lake of fire or outer darkness. Those texts are obviously in our Scriptures, sometimes coming from Jesus. But I don't believe Lewis is ignoring them to get God off the hook. More likely, he is clarifying that such language is limited to the symbolism of visions, parables, and metaphors that, in the end, Lewis affirms human agency and describes self-inflicted consequences.

BUT...  I like to go a step further, and leave you imagining Lewis in conversation with Christ, like so:

Lewis: "The doors of hell are locked from the inside." 

Jesus' answer #1 at the Cross - "Doors?" as he tears the veil of the Holy of Holies, which has represented paradise locked to us.

Jesus' answer #2 on Holy Saturday - "Doors?" as he shatters the gates and stands on them, pulling us up by the wrists (as in the resurrection icon). 

Jesus' answer #3 on Easter Sunday - "Doors?" as he passes through them as if they are mist, as he did in the upper room.

 

 

"Out the Embers" - OTC conversation (Jersak, Young, Fee, Murrell, MacMurray)

My Journey "Out of the Embers" - Nicky Martini

Bradley Jersak's Out of the Embers caught me by surprise. I thought my time to look back was done. At the beginning of this year, over a whole month, I experienced a creative miracle where, by the end, I knew God had healed my PTSD. Within the pages of Bradley's book, I can feel more waves of release and healing. 

 

From the “Prodigal Test” 

 

“God gives us the dignity of finding our own bottom. Once that happens, we might truly come home in a way that the elder brother apparently never did.”

 

It’s taken me days to get through the sections on Nietzsche and Simone Weil. Within those pages, I revisited the worst days of my deconstruction, primarily the grief that had consumed me. 

 

I never said “God is dead” but some nine years ago, the second part of my deconstruction came as what I can only call a wrecking ball. I remember the moment it happened. I was in church, mic in hand, about to blissfully share some grace encouragement. And before I could get a word out, God popped my bubble. It was like I had rose-coloured glasses on... and then I didn’t. All I could see were faces in the pews who were not interested in my wonderful grace words. They were suffering silently in a place where suffering was not allowed, or at least not talked about. Ours was a toxic positivity church of happy grace clappers, and I was one of them. I put the mic down, grabbed my husband and my children, and ran like a madwoman. I never went back.

 

Immediately after, my mum was diagnosed with cancer. She was in Greece with my dad and my brother, so the family flew her and my dad back to Australia. 

 

She survived another six weeks. I prayed for more time with her; I prayed for her healing, and when it became evident that that was not going to happen, I prayed that I would be there with her when she took her last breath. I lay on the floor next to her bed so as to be with her. It was important to me because we hadn’t had a great relationship when I was growing up. I was a terrible teenager. But for years, I had longed to live close to her and to have the opportunity to love on her as she deserved. To make up for lost years. 

 

The moment my mumma took her last breath, she was surrounded by her whole family. Except me. I was on the toilet. 

 

My faith at that moment collapsed. The wrecking ball hit with no mercy. Didn’t we learn in church that "all God’s promises were yes and amen" and that He gives us the desires of our hearts? Not only did God no answer the desire of my heart that I had hoped and prayed for over many years, but He took Mum home while I was on the toilet, shitting. It was like He had taken a knife, jabbed me in my heart, and twisted it to drive it home. I wasn’t angry with God; I was deeply hurt. I felt like the only One who I could trust had hurt me in the worst possible way. I can’t describe the pain in my heart. 

 

One morning after her funeral, I got in my car to go to work, and I said out loud, “God, you and I are done. Don’t talk to me anymore. I won’t be looking to hear from you or to feel you. I won’t be in any relationship with you. I won’t be loving you and certainly won’t be waiting to receive any love from you. You can leave me alone now.”

 

I said it and I meant it. I would repeat this many, many times over the next two years when I was alone. For the first time in my whole life, I stopped talking to God. I didn’t question his existence. I knew He was real and I knew He was with me all the time. But I chose deliberately not to be in relationship with Him. 

 

Still, my mumma’s death was not my rock bottom. It happened over the two years of ripping my heart out day after day. It was the numbing myself and not allowing myself to love and be loved by the God who had once swept me off my feet.

 

My rock bottom came when I had so shut myself off from God out of deep hurt that I could no longer feel Him. I don’t know how to describe living without God except to say I felt dead. I starved myself to death. I went about my days mechanically. No joy; just deep, deep sadness and inconsolable grief for my loss. I cut myself off from whatever few friends I had left because I somehow felt like my darkness would contaminate them, plus there was no room in my despair. 

 

Two years passed. My hubby Brett and I were driving a long distance and he had his music playing on random. What used to be my all-time favourite God song came on: Lifehouse's “Everything.”

 

Find me here and speak to me
I want to feel you, I need to hear you

 

I started to cry and Brett asked what was wrong. I told him that the hardest thing for me, doing this life without God, has been that I’m no longer moved by Him. Every time I used to hear this song, it was like every cell in my body would be caught up into some ecstatic place of joy indescribable but now I am not moved by Him anymore. Brett laughed and said, "Well, that’s an easy fix! You just have to let Him." 

 

And so I prayed, “Lord I miss you, I still feel hurt by you, but Lord, if you never answer a single prayer of mine it doesn’t matter. If I see no miracles but only pain and suffering in this world, nevertheless, I don’t want to do it on my own anymore. There’s no life for me apart from you. I need you, and I want to be moved by you again." And so He did. Once again, I fixed my eyes on the Lover of my soul for no other reason than to be loved and to love.

 

Reading Embers today, specifically Simone Weil's words about coming home, God reminded me of a recurring nightmare I used to have after my mum had passed. In the dream, my mum and I were lost and both of us trying to find our way home. Somewhere in the dream, I would lose her and desperately try to find her so we could find home together. The dream would always end before I found her and before we found home. 

 

Today, God spoke to me about how my mumma suffered from terrible grief in her life, something she never got over. Both my sister and I would say we don’t ever want to be like her, always grieving. For my sister, it stopped her from being able to grieve. And for me, I seemed to grieve immensely. I felt God saying, “Your mumma is home now with me and she no longer grieves. And you know I am always with you, and I am healing this grief." 

 

I think I read somewhere that Out of the Embers is like the healing balm of Gilead. Indeed it is.
I know it will bring much healing to many. 

“Wait a minute…!” Clarence Jordan’s “Inconvenient Gospel” – Review by Bradley Jersak

“Wait a minute…!” Clarence Jordan’s “Inconvenient Gospel”
Review by Bradley Jersak

Clarence Jordan, The Inconvenient Gospel: A Southern Prophet Tackles War, Wealth, Race, and Religion (Plough Spiritual Guides: Backpack Classics, 2022).

CLICK HERE TO READ A SAMPLE

“Wait a minute!” One day I may not be so surprised and delighted by the books Plough Publishing sends me, but they’ve done it again! Before I dive into the substance of Clarence Jordan’s Inconvenient Gospel, I must first commend Plough from a publisher’s perspective. The design and layout of the physical copy make for a beautiful product, bound on good-quality stock and a heavier-than-paper cover. More important, though, is that this particular book is a welcome addition to their “Spiritual Guides” series, which is a treasury of authors including:

• Dorothy Day
• Simone Weil
• Eberhard Arnold and Richard Foster
• Eberhard Arnold and Thomas Merton
• Oscar Romero
• Amy Carmichael
• Abraham Joshua Heschel

Seriously, contact Plough and ask for the whole set—it’s an incredible collection of great hearts and minds, and each work includes a distilled biography and introduction along with a treasury of primary source material from each author.

Now to Clarence Jordan's Inconvenient Gospel. The book opens with Frederick L. Downing’s fine biography of Jordan (1912-1969), his wife Florence, and their Koinonia community. Jordan is described as a white Baptist minister from Old South Georgia who broke every mold associated with that stereotype. The “Wait a minute!” moments on those first pages stack up quickly. Here we have a Southern Baptist-trained preacher (with a Ph.D. in NT Greek) who embraced nonviolence, racial integration, and communal living decades before the Civil Rights movement picked up steam! Utterly countercultural, monitored by the government, harassed by the Klansmen… his story is so gripping that when Martin Luther King Jr. heard Jordan was practicing what King was preaching, he said, “I went to Koinonia [Jordan's community] to see it for myself and couldn’t wait to leave because I was sure the Klan would show up and kill us both.” The Koinonia project, a gospel-centered, interracial, alternative economic project, struck me exactly as the title suggests—an “inconvenient Gospel.” 

After Downing’s biography, readers are treated to an Introduction by Starlette Thomas, titled “Reading Clarence Jordan Today.” Wait a minute! THAT Starlette Thomas? For those unfamiliar with her, Thomas is the director of The Raceless Gospel Initiative; she's a practical theologian and blogger, and a serious womanist preacher in ministry. When someone of her stature shares her perspective on Clarence Jordan and his “raceless gospel” (not to be confused with “color-blindness”!), I am arrested in the most important way. I.e., she had my attention.

But then we’re exposed to Clarence Jordan firsthand in a series of thirteen of his articles and sermons. It's worth sharing the chapter titles to catch a glimpse of key themes from this “wait a minute!” provocateur. I'm especially bearing in mind the religious and social cultures of his Baptist audiences (churches, journals, and conventions from 1941-1955) and later, his Mennonite listeners (Goshen College) in the 1960s. 

1. Impractical Christianity
2. The Meaning of Christian Fellowship
3. What is the Word of God?
4. White Southern Christians and Race
5. No Promised Land without the Wilderness
6. The Ten Commandments
7. Jesus, Leader of the Poor
8. Love Your Enemies
9. Jesus and Possessions
10. Metamorphosis
11. The Man from Gadara
12. Things Needed for Our Peace
13. The Humanity of God

Through his penetrating messages, Jordan presses some truly inconvenient "wait a minute!" facts. For example, the radical polarization around economic and racial issues that are right now tearing apart our frayed society are nothing new. He was there and underwent that reality directly, overtly, frequently suffering intimidation from the church, the FBI, and the KKK alike.

Further, his active opposition against white supremacy before the Civil Rights reached a critical mass was prophetic and intensely risky. Hatred from what we now call the “far right” was still the norm then,… and couple that problem with preaching a gospel of nonviolence that refused to hate domestic oppressors or wage war against foreign enemies. Well, call him crazy, call him communist, call him the devil... and many did. But we cannot call his nonviolence "complicity with injustice." His nonviolent witness was an active living martyrdom... as dangerously naïve as Jesus' foundation sermon, perhaps? I hope so, because so far, “the ways that make for peace have been hidden from our eyes.” Jordan has a word for us all, right now. He IS a prophet to speaking to the 21st century. 

But even if I can follow his call to radical forgiveness, enemy love, and anti-racism, that only gets me through the Matthew 5 section of his Sermon on the Mount example. Jordan ventures into the implications of a Matthew 6 life—I’m referring to how seriously he took renouncing personal wealthy and possessions and heeding Jesus’ command [?] not to lay up earthly treasures for ourselves. Jordan preached and practiced a communal gospel reminiscent of the church in those first chapters of Acts, where everyone shared, and no one was left impoverished. "Wait a minute!" That’s a “hard word” for those of us (I mean me) with mortgages and homes, deeply attached to our pensions and investments. Maybe now that middle-class wealth is being gobbled up by inflation and greed, and a home is no longer even an option for my children, Jordan has my attention—and after him, who knows? Might I listen to Jesus, too—but this time with fresh ears in Clarence Jordan’s Southern-seasoned voice. 

It's worth saying how closely aligned Jordan was with Tolstoy, Gandhi, Thurman, and King Jr., in that same Sermon on the Mount tradition, living its practicability in his own way. Even without the same global name recognition, he is surely due the same honor as these, his peers. 

Finally, one last bonus “Wait a minute!” Have you ever heard of the southern retelling of the Jesus story, The Cotton Patch Gospel? I had not realized Clarence Jordan wrote was the author! In fact, he was composing it when he departed this life for the next. One might have wished he had more time for that endeavor, but then again, what a beautiful way to complete one’s journey. 

Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb: In Quest of Equity - Interview with Bradley Jersak

Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb (www.rabbilynngottlieb.com)
is a Jewish Rabbi (of 50 years!), master story teller, folk artist and seasoned peace pilgrim.

See full bio below. 

Lynn Gottlieb, one of the first women to become a rabbi in Jewish history, is a pioneer Jewish feminist, human rights activist, writer, visual artist, ceremonialist, community educator and master storyteller.

Lynn has been a congregational rabbi since the fall of 1973, and founded the Congregation Nahalat Shalom in Albuquerque, NM, in 1980. Lynn engages in multifaith, intergenerational and multicultural organizing in solidarity with racial, indigenous, gender justice and Palestinian liberation struggles.

Currently, Lynn sits on the Rabbinic Council of Jewish Voice for Peace and is board chair of Interfaith Movement for Human Integrity. Rabbi Lynn is the author of several books, including Peace Primer II, She Who Dwells Within: A Feminist Vision of Renewed Judaism, World Beyond Borders Passover Haggadah and Trail Guide to the Torah of Nonviolence.

Rabbi Lynn is a Shomeret Shalom, a practitioner of the Torah of nonviolence.
To get in touch, click here.

 

Healing from and through Deconstruction - Felicia Murrell with Susan Carson

Thursday, October 27, 6:00 pm EST 
Susan Carson (Roots & Branches network)
will host a livestream fundraising event:

"Healing From and Through Our Deconstruction"
An evening with Dr. Bradley Jersak, Felicia Murrell and Wm. Paul Young"

CLICK HERE for Registration details

 

In preparation for this event, Susan Carson raised the following questions on deconstruction and the healing journey. Author, editor, and foodie extraordinaire, Felicia Murrell, responded beautifully, a great teaser for what we're in for:  

SUSAN: When we talk about deconstruction, what do we mean?

Felicia: I would say deconstruction means releasing our grip, attachment from ideas, beliefs and theories we once thought to be true; unknowing the things we’ve erected and built, dismantling all of our conceptual constructs. My teacher, Mirabai Starr would say, it’s “when the religious scaffolding crumbles and we are plunged into radical unknowing.”

My mind conjures images of Samson bracing the two middle pillars on which the house rested and bending with all his might, upending the house and all therein.[1] But for me, as it relates to deconstruction, the two middle pillars would be my pillars of arrogance and certainty upon which all my tenets of faith and belief and interpretations rested. For sure the image loses some of its relatability at the end because of the destruction, but I imagine for some, deconstruction may actually feel like a sort of catastrophic death.

SUSAN: In what ways have you experienced or observed deconstruction as destructive? 

Felicia: I think when we are as fundamental and certain about deconstruction as we are about religion, that can be destructive. Rene Girard spoke often about scapegoating, and when we find ourselves trapped in the need to blame our pain or our lived experience on someone, deconstruction can turn vengeful and destructive. But if we don’t understand this process as a path to infinite Love, we will lose ourselves in the terror and chaos of our unraveling which can be very harmful.

Drinking Well from Others Wells - Bradley Jersak

Drinking Well from Other’s Wells
Reading Sacred Texts – Four Invitations

Address by Bradley Jersak at the "Peace through the Reconcilation of Our Holy Books" interfaith conference on 9-11.

By Bradley Jersak

 

Your Excellencies, Sisters and Brothers in God’s expansive family,

Grace and Peace,

Today I would like to express my gratitude for our common commitment to peacemaking and to share four brief reflections about reading one another’s sacred texts with openness, respect, and wonder. I was personally raised in a tradition of religious certitude where we were all too convinced that our provincial faith and our particular way of reading our Scriptures defined the sealed boundaries of truth. Regardless of whether what I share in this paper resonates with others, I sincerely hope that you will hear my good-faith repentance for the narrowness I am still overcoming.

In my attempts to drink well from the wells of other Holy Books, I’ve developed four invitations that I will briefly clarify and illustrate. My sense is that reading well includes the following:

1. I invite us to read well from each other’s Scriptures with open hearts, attentive to points of connection.
2. I invite us to read well from each other’s Scriptures, seeing them as unique songs to the One True God.
3. I invite us to consider how others read their own Scriptures.
4. I invite us to consider how others read our Scriptures.

Interfaith Peacemakers Summit with Safi Kaskas & Friends - by Brad Jersak

“Blessed are the peacemakers. They shall be called children of God.”

—Jesus

I write this testimony of God’s grace while the events are still fresh in my mind and warm in my heart.

For the anniversary of 9-11, I was invited to participate in an international gathering of Peacemakers from the three major Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Islam, Judaism), including various scholars, activists, imams, and rabbis from across the globe. The title of the conference was "PEACE through the Reconciliation of Our Holy Books"  

It was truly an amazing and beautiful day! 

I was so thrilled with each of the presenters and, just as much, their attentive and gracious responses to one another.

I was personally very moved by Dr. Safi Kaskas’ leadership. My Muslim brother and Qur’anic scholar spoke some very kind words about our first encounters that brought back precious memories. 

I was very impressed by the quality of the speakers that Safi assembled, and all on such short notice that we both recognized God’s hand in swinging open these doors to dialogue.

The speakers showed remarkable expertise and clarity about many pressing issues in the world today and an uncanny knack for addressing tender topics without condemnation of the Other. This was evident as we expressed remorse for the sins of our own movements, along with the willingness to advocate for the vulnerable.

Specifically, Muslim representatives denounced the violence done on September 11 by fellow radicalized Muslims, Christian representatives repudiated our violent response through the so-called “war on terror,” and Rabbi Lynn, for example, issued a clear call for the state of Israel to repent and practice equity toward the Palestinian people.    

In some ways, none of that surprised me, but I was delighted that several of the talks (back-to-back, unplanned except in heaven) brought into focus the injustices done toward indigenous people and the need for reparations. There was nothing in Safi’s invitation that indicated we should or could ‘go there,’ but I had the strong sense that it was a topic heavy on God’s heart and his people were tuned in.

All of that was very, very good. But I want to shift to the highlight of the day, when the ‘felt presence’ of God flooded our solemn assembly with joy and tears.

Our friend Mercy Aiken, a Christian peace activist and bridgebuilder, began to expound on Jesus’ words from Luke 19. She said, “On his way to the cross, we read about one of the few times that we hear Jesus wept. He is approaching Jerusalem, and the gospel says,

⁴¹ And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, ⁴² saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.”

Mercy emphasized that phrase, “Now they are hidden from your eyes,” to lament the terrible spiritual blindness that has caused each of the Abrahamic religions to choose hatred, violence, and war over “the things that make for peace.” The fact that the way to peace has remained hidden to us is both tragic and obvious, especially when we consider Jerusalem as a geographical and symbolic center for millennia of conflicts… between the very faiths gathered at the conference.

Through those words, a powerful sense of sobriety descended and in my headphones, I heard quiet groans of awareness expressed. What are we to do? At just the right moment, Mercy began to spontaneously intercede that the Holy Spirit would mercifully open our eyes and draw us back onto the way of peace.      

And then I was stunned to tears, as were others, as she responded to her own challenge with a song of invocation—a Muslim worship chorus—“Open Your Eyes” by Maher Zain. I believe she sang these lyrics:

Open our eyes, our hearts and minds 
If we just look right, we'll see the signs 
We can't keep hiding from the truth
And let it take us by surprise
Protect us in the best way
Guide us every single day
Keep us close to You 
Until the end of time

(please watch the full song HERE and I have embedded it at the end of this article) 

Tears began to stream down my cheeks; I saw others wiping their eyes; an Imam posted Jesus’ words into the group chat; and as soon as Mercy finished, one of the Muslim men asked, “Could you also please sing a song for our Christian and Jewish brothers and sisters?”

Mercy responded, “Well, that sone really was meant for all of us… But I did think about that, too, in case it came up. So here is a song from the Jewish Scriptures that Christians also love to sing:

For Thou, O Lord, art high above all the earth
Thou art exalted far above all gods
For Thou, o Lord, art high above all the earth
Thou art exalted far above all gods

I exalt Thee, I exalt Thee
I exalt Thee, O Lord
I exalt Thee, I exalt Thee
I exalt Thee, O Lord

(you can see this song HERE and again, it's embedded at the end)

I could tell we were on holy ground, in a transcendent moment—we were encountering the heart of God as constructive dialogue gave way to worship in spirit and in truth, described and yes, prophesied by Jesus when he said in John 4 (MSG),

^{21 “}The time is coming—it has, in fact, come—when what you’re called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter.

^23-24 “It’s who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth. That’s the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship. God is sheer being itself—Spirit. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration.”

How did we get there? I believe it’s because God’s heart for peace and justice must be so broken that one whiff of that aroma draws his manifest presence in a heartbeat. So many of our religious meetings have not only ignored peace and justice—worldwide, our churches (I’ve seen it), synagogues, and mosques alike have been infested with hate, propaganda, and sermons encouraging vengeance and death-dealing. It’s an ancient problem.

The Jewish prophet Amos (5:21-24 MSG), speaking for God, prophesies,

“I can’t stand your religious meetings. I’m fed up with your conferences and conventions. I want nothing to do with your religion projects, your pretentious slogans and goals. I’m sick of your fund-raising schemes, your public relations and image-making. I’ve had all I can take of your noisy ego-music. When was the last time you sang to me? Do you know what I want? I want justice—oceans of it. I want fairness—rivers of it. That’s what I want. That’s all I want.

In my view, this conference served as an act of living repentance for just that problem.

This gathering exceeded my expectations, and I believe the individual recordings (forthcoming) will make a powerful series with the potential for long-term and widespread impact. Even better, I pray that our encounter would lead to lasting new friendships and created networks that extend beyond what we can ask or imagine... and that those who watch will experience the insights and wonder that were such a gift to me.

With love and gratitude,

Bradley Jersak

Conference Participants             

HOSTS:
Nahid Saiyed
Paul Armstrong

SPEAKERS:
Safi Kaskas
Brad Jersak
Samira Benturki Saidi
Mark Braverman
Muhammad Eissa
Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb
Tariq Mustafa
Mercy Aiken
Dawud Abdur-Rahman
Rabbi Steve Weisman
Daisy Khan

 SONG 1 - "Open Your Eyes"

Song 2 - "I Exalt Thee"

Bradley Jersak, "Out of the Embers: Faith After the Great Deconstruction" (pre-orders)

Now available for pre-order!

OUT OF THE EMBERS: 
FAITH AFTER THE GREAT DECONSTRUCTION

by Bradley Jersak foreword by Brian Zahnd

CLICK HERE to order now

Description:

Deconstruction: Trendy brand name for falling away from belief in God? Or a process essential to authentic faith? Liberation or trauma? Prison break or exile? It’s complicated. Just like you. Christian history records a Great Reformation and a Great Awakening. But today’s “Great Deconstruction” will surely leave an equally profound impact.

In Out of the Embers, Bradley Jersak explores the necessity, perils, and possibilities of the Great Deconstruction—how it has the potential to either sabotage our communion with God or infuse it with the breath of life, the light and life of Christ himself.

In this collection of vulnerable memoirs, philosophical memos, and candid provocations, Jersak resists both the hand-wringing urge to corral stray sheep and the exultant desire to play the happy-clappy Ex-vangelical cheerleader. He employs the wisdom and expertise of the great deconstructionists—Christianity’s ancient influences (Moses, Plato, Paul, and the Patristics), “beloved frenemies” (from Voltaire to Nietzsche), and the masters of deconstruction (Dostoevsky, Kierkegaard, and Weil)—to double down and deconstruct deconstruction itself. Where is faith after deconstruction?

The author’s heart is to engage and empathize with the bereft and disoriented, stoking the brittle ashes for live embers. In this quest for the resilient gospel of the martyrs, the marginal, and those outside the threshold...inexplicably, in this liminal space, life stirs.

A Light shines through the ashes. We find, often for the first time, that living connection Jersak calls “presence in communion.” There is a sea change occurring across the Western church and civilization. Whether we’re watching a radical course correction or a complete collapse remains to be seen, and how it pans out will likely depend on how we see what’s happening, who we are becoming, how we live in response—and, most important, where we find Christ situated in this storm.

CLICK HERE to order now

Foreword to Alvin Kimel's "DESTINED FOR JOY" - by Bradley Jersak

AIDEN KIMEL, DESTINED FOR JOY

Foreword by Bradley Jersak, Ph.D.

With great joy, I have for a decade followed Fr. Aiden Kimel as he forged a path of inquiry that unveiled answers, advanced an exploration that yielded discovery, and posited a hope that became deep conviction—for me and in many others. His biblical, historical, and philosophical posts have completely convinced me that the apokatastasis panton (the restoration of all things) is not merely a doctrinally tolerable idea—it is, as Kimel says, “the gospel of Christ’s absolute and unconditional love sung in an eschatological key.”

As he has faithfully posted his treasury of findings, I have come to believe without reserve in Christ’s bold claim that through his Passion he will indeed draw all of humanity and the entire cosmos to himself. For that reason, I now see apokatastasis as intrinsic and indispensable to proclaiming the ancient gospel in this fraught and faltering century.

In Destined for Joy, Kimel has gathered a “best of” collection of his insights that, together, paint a vista I cannot unsee, and wouldn’t ever want to!          

Even for those who follow Fr. Aiden’s posts regularly, Destined for Joy is well worth reviewing and having on hand as a definitive resource. The book faithfully and creatively reflects the faith of those great saints of the past (Origen, Macrina, Gregory of Nyssa, Isaac of Nineveh, Maximos the Confessor, Silouan the Athonite, and yes, George MacDonald) and the boldest minds of our era (Sergius Bulgakov, Robert W. Jenson, Thomas Talbott, Ilaria Ramelli, David Bentley Hart, John Behr). It also offers essential and sometimes startling corrections, revealing, for example, how the fifth-century anathemas against Origenism—long thought to have decisively condemned universal salvation—were never conciliar or even synodal. Kimel demonstrates that they amount to nothing but an imperial edict that has no doctrinal authority. He has at last firmly closed the door on centuries of misconception, divorced the anathemas from the Fifth Ecumenical Council, and removed them from the Infernalist arsenal. 

But by far, his most powerful contribution to me personally (by accumulated 'convincement') was guiding me to this very simple question: Does the New Testament foresee the salvation of all or doesn't it? Clearly, it does. Repeatedly. Unequivocally. And all the “But what about . . . ?” counterpoints fail to address these Scriptures directly. Regardless of the difficulties we have interpreting judgment texts or harmonizing them with ultimate redemption, Christ and his apostles tell us how it all ends: "God will be all and in all.” But nothing. Full stop. Amen and hallelujah!

The issue of 'the End' now boils down to these questions for me:

a. Do the Scriptures require a free and willing faith response to Jesus Christ? Yes! Many times.

b. Do the Scriptures forecast a final judgment? Yes! Many times.

c. Do the Scriptures foresee the salvation of all? Yes! Dozens of times.  

How can all three of these statements be true without marginalizing any of the pertinent biblical texts? They can only all work if: 

a. Death has been defeated so that a free and willing post-mortem response is possible.
It has been. 

b. The judgments of God are restorative and penultimate rather than retributive and ultimate.
They are.  

 c. The human will is healed and freed from its delusions so we can freely respond to perfect Love when we see Christ face to face. I call this a 'freed will' response. 
It will be.

While we can pile Scripture upon Scripture to verify these truths, I repeat, we have Jesus Christ's overt claim in John's Gospel: "If I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself." 

And we have the End described in expressly inclusive ways . . . every eye shall see him, every knee shall bow, every tongue will confess, God shall be all and in all. What others regard as exclusive conditions to this outcome, apokatastasis enfolds as the necessary means. The Incarnation, the Cross and Resurrection, faith in Christ, restorative judgment according to the first Christians—these are the means by which the foretold glorious, all-inclusive End will surely come about.

I can make these audacious assertions without presumption because whatever warrant our faith needs to embrace them, Destined for Joy offers in abundance. Over to you, Fr. Aiden. 

CLICK HERE TO ORDER AIDEN KIMEL, DESTINED FOR JOY