Jesus of Nazareth was a Jewish person of colour who united himself to people of all colours.
As Fr. Kenneth Tanner says, "We can either be scandalized by his universality or his particularity."
In his universality, he both transcends colour and unites himself to every and all colours as the every-human.
In his particularity, Jesus was neither black nor white. He was specifically a Palestinian Jew--Semitic and so neither European nor African.
When I say Jesus was a 'person of colour,' I emphasize his identification with all people of colour who have been excluded or oppressed.
But I also cringe at creating an us-them umbrella for Jesus under which all colours are included except white people. White people already made that horrid mistake and I will grieve that to my grave.
If the consensus is that white exclusion is the way to make things right, I will take my turn outside the city. Lord knows it's justified. But I've never seen reason to be confident that exclusion creates a just society. So again today, despite what I deserve, I ask for mercy.
This same principle of universality and particularity applies to the sexes. Jesus was a single Jewish male who united himself to people of all sexes.
In his universality, he transcends sex, sexuality and gender while uniting himself to every human being regardless of their sex, sexuality or gender because again, he is the every-human.
In his particular sex, sexuality and gender, Jesus of Nazareth:
(1) was a biological male,
(2) was asexual in practice, engaged in neither gay nor straight sexual relationships and
(3) exhibited the FULL range of healthy gender traits (masculine & feminine/lion & lamb characteristics).
Jesus seems to anticipate his ascended, resurrected state as forever human but transcending sex and sexuality:
"At the resurrection, people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven." Matt. 22:30
So, if the consensus is that male exclusion is the way to make things right, I will take my turn outside the city. Lord knows it's justified. But I've never seen reason to be confident that exclusion creates a just society. So again today, despite what I deserve, I ask for mercy.
I think Cherith Nordling said it well,
"It's not that in Christ, our particular markers (race, sex, gender, etc) are eradicated or accidental. But transcending them means they no longer have a place of privilege over the other as assigned by the fallen world system. My identity is in Christ, but this is not sameness. Rather, my particular me-ness is my unique contribution and it is to be cherished."
I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat
John Milton Areopagitica
We are living (nothing new about this) in the midst of yet another series of intense culture wars. The liberal progressives have their Sanhedrin and ruling ideology that brooks little or no opposition. Much of this tribe holds the reins of power at universities, culture, media and political parties of the center-left. This liberal Orthodoxy has a certain way of interpreting history and contemporary events that reflect the ideological premises of liberalism. The conservative clan is often seen as the polar opposite of the liberal tribe and many of the hot button issues in the cultures are held high by them, such a clan, cannon loaded, firing multiple shots across the liberal bow. Needless to say, such opposite positions on virtually most issues can be confusing for those seeking some sort of compass to guide them in the heat of the culture wars, slinking out of the race an indulgent and narcissistic pose and posture—it takes deep courage to remain in the fray when the dust and heat overwhelm the soul, mind and imagination. The treatment of Jordan Peterson, in the last few years, illuminates, in utmost clarity, the nature of the culture wars and treatment of those who go into the lion’s den of liberal orthodoxy—Sanhedrin can be quite vicious, heresy and heterodoxy still very much alive.
There are those who uncritically bend the knee to the progressive left just as there are many who uncritically genuflect to the conservative right. There are many who begin on the left, see the dilemmas of it and turn to the right. There are others who begin on the conservative right, then turn left. Such transitions often still reflect the need to belong to a tribe with some sort of certainty but the content simply shifts even though the need for certainty does not. William Wordsworth, as a young man, idealized the French Revolution only to distance himself from it when he saw the once oppressed oppressing others (left going right). Martin Buber, when young, for a short period of time, joined Theodore Herzl in his Zionist ideology (right going left) only to part paths with him when he realized powerlessness once attaining power creates other victims. St. Paul, once an aggressive persecutor of Christians, changed his mind and came to see things differently (persecutor becoming persecuted). Wordsworth, Buber and St. Paul once took positions that they came to see as questionable and grew into deeper, more nuanced and thoughtful ways of approaching complex human reality (both the inner and outer life)
Lauren Southern has been on quite a public political journey for the last five years. I have journeyed with her on some parts of such a pilgrimage. The fact that universities, media, higher culture and center-left political parties embody and reflect (often quite uncritically) a programmed ideological agenda that often silences legitimate questions or opposition (and many come to see this) means that, in reaction, many turn to an idealized version of the political right. Jordan Peterson, for example, reflects a perspective that dares to critique liberal orthodoxy (and is caricatured and dismissed regularly and routinely for doing so). This does not mean he is an uncritical fan of the ideological right (alt-new or lite right). Lauren Southern, in the last five years, has certainly been on the front stage as a significant activist of the far-right and she has seen it for what it is in a way few have or ever will see. The cloistered virtues of those who retreat from the fray or into ideological tribes (of the right or left) were, for a time, Lauren’s temptation and addiction of sorts (Lauren’s bent more to the right). But, like Wordsworth, Buber, and St. Paul (I could mention many others) Lauren has come to see the human journey is more complex than formulas, clichés and slogans that distort reality and reduce political positions to homogenous and sanitized comic book versions of life in which either-or melodramas dominate rather than thoughtful and meaningful human dialogue.
The recent release of Lauren’s “Why I Left, Why I’m Back” sums up, in less than 20 minutes, her reasons for leaving her right of centre commitments and her feeling her way forward to the next step of the journey. The fact Lauren has been much more public than most (certainly no cloistered virtue now of right, retreat or left) means, with this recent video, the progressives are out for her head again and the right feels betrayed by her. But, thoughtful people (unlike brittle ideologues) see and in their deeper seeing, change their minds and in changing their minds, bring greater light and less heat to our culture wars. Do watch this video by Lauren and post reflective comments.
“Phenomenal cosmic powers … Itty bitty living space.”
—Genie, Disney’s Aladdin
Richard Rohr’s instant classic, The Universal Christ (2019), raised quite a stir by distinguishing the historical Jesus from the “cosmic Christ,” for it seemed to flow in the opposite direction of the apostle John’s insistence that “Jesus IS the Christ.” Indeed, I’ve occasionally flagged that distinction as problematic.
And then again, much of the pushback Fr. Richard received for his teaching contained more error and less orthodoxy than what his critics thought to oppose. Rather than nitpicking Rohr, I want to hear the treasure in what he’s thoughtfully and prayerfully attempted—I want to perceive with my heart what the Spirit is speaking through the limitations of human thought and words. Said another way, I want to receive the gift of the Incarnation afresh through this friend who exudes it so beautifully.
To do so, I’ll briefly engage with his contemplative colleague, James Finley, in his summary of Rohr’s teaching.1
So, James begins:
Our Christian faith does not teach us that God became incarnate in someone named Jesus who lived 2000 years ago. Rathe,r our faith teaches that in the person of Jesus who lived 2000 years ago, it is revealed that God has become incarnate as us—that God’s life and our life are one life and this one life is Christ’s life, a unitive life in which in some essential sense, we and God are not dualistically other than each other.
And this is where Finley and Rohr lose so many of us. Are they denying the Incarnation? Not really, no. Are they denying the uniqueness of Jesus of Nazareth as the “only begotten” Son of God? Not as I’ve come to know Fr. Richard. Rather, they view Jesus as the focal point of this unique revelation: that in Jesus of Nazareth, God the Word (the universal Christ) did more than temporarily borrow a human body to roam around Galilee and die outside Jerusalem. The revelation of Jesus Christ (for I stubbornly combine the two ‘names’ in one person) is that infinite Love is unitive. That is, our Creator is united to all creation, Christ is united to all humanity and infinite Love is united to you. Finley describes this “unitive nature”:
What’s so key about this understanding of unitive nature—of God’s life being given to us as our own life—is that this oneness with God and life itself is not something that’s been given to us out of the ability to live up to some ideal that we aspire to, some set of moral principles or standard like the law that we’re trying to measure up to.
This should certainly trigger a resounding “Amen” from those who’ve had a taste of grace. The indivisible union of this God of “phenomenal cosmic love” in the “itty bitty living space” of the Virgin’s firstborn baby is the quintessential revelation that this same Love resides in you and “ain’t goin’ nowhere.” It is not sabotaged by our shameful bits or propped up by our grandest achievements…
To the contrary, in Jesus of Nazareth is revealed that God has freely chosen to become identified with us—unexplainably precious in the midst of our fragility itself. That in some sense, the recognition of our fragility, the recognition of our weakness, the recognition of the unresolved matters of our mind and heart is the condition in which we realize the infinite love of God is infinitely identified with us in the midst of those very issues…
Please remember that the “Incarnation” extends beyond the virginal conception of Jesus or his birth in Bethlehem. The historic Incarnation encompasses the whole of the life of Christ, including his death on the Cross. What does the Cross reveal about the “unitive mystery”? How does it apply to my faith journey today? Forgiveness of sins, for sure. But there’s more:
Another key insight that runs through the heart of our faith is that Jesus says, “Come, follow me” and we discover where he is leading us is the Cross. And what is the Cross in the context of our faith? It is the mysterious process of dying to our dreaded and cherished illusions that anything less or other than an infinite union with infinite love has the authority to name who were are. That is to say, the mystery of the cross is dying to the idolatry of shame, as having authority to name who we are, and it is also simultaneously dying to the authority of virtue or attainment.
You see, the Incarnation reveals that it’s not about how good or bad we’ve been, but that Infinite Love freely chose to identify with us, abide in us and become inextricably woven into the human condition. Christ emptied himself into humanity to raise up humanity with himself—in no way contingent on our performance:
Because this love is so unexplainably given to us by infinite love, it is a love we are powerless to diminish and we are powerless to increase. It is boundaryless in all directions through and through.
Some have wondered whether Rohr’s Jesus/Christ distinction or “cosmic Christ” revelation makes the Cross unnecessary. Rohr is unequivocal: “Without the Cross, your suffering would be meaningless.” But with the Cross, we see how Christ (perfect Love) co-suffers with all human suffering. Ironically, our embrace of the Cross of Christ means our death but what a gift! Why?
… this process of this sweet death—of dying to everything less than love is our experiential salvation.
Dying to the idolatry of both shame and achievement reorients us to Infinite Love and now that Love names us. No longer do we know ourselves by what we’ve done or failed to do. Rather, our identity is rooted deeply in Perfect Love’s infinite union with us.
I will take Finley and Rohr’s word as a call to grow a little bit more in love (in Christ) by ‘dying’ a little bit more (to performance). To let my fearful “what ifs” become bold “even if” faith statements … and ultimately, to fix my eyes and ears on Christ, who “Because Love ____, therefore____.” And to let that be my hymn of hope and praise!
BSafi Kaskas: I asked my brother James David Audlin to comment on verse 3:19 "To God, true faith is submission [Islam]" إِنَّ الدِّينَ عِندَ اللَّهِ الْإِسْلَامُ ۗ
He wrote the following answer that I think everyone should read:
James David Audlin: My spirit-brother Safi Kaskas, who is a brilliant scholar on the Qur'an, asked me my comments on a certain phrase in the Qur'an that means, more or less, "Islam is the only true religion." Normally I'd hesitate to open my mouth in the presence of wise people such as Safi. but he asked, and here is what I said...
I have always taken دين to mean "one" or "only" not in the sense most people take it, not to say this is the one true religion and the others are false, but that there is no other religion but this one, no matter what the brand name on the packaging. Let me explain...
As I have often said, the word "Islam" is used in two very different ways.
The first way is as the name of one religion amongst many in the world, like each person walks up to the smörgasbörd of religions and, after reviewing all of the religions available says, "Hmm, I'll take that one." This puts "Islam" the word in competition with "Christianity", "Judaism", and so on, all competing with each other and hating each other and starting wars with each other.
The other way is that دين refers to the essential core of ALL religions. For all religions are about submission to G-d. The word الإسلام ("islam") means "submission" to G-d, i.e., doing G-d's will, or better yet, eagerly conforming your own personal will to the will of G-d because it is more logical than the twisted paths of demagogues and it bears far more fruit to love G-d and love neighbor than to hate one or the other. This understanding results in loving G-d and loving each other. A is Christian but loves B his Muslim (in the first sense) neighbor, and B loves A right back. And both of them love C, their Jewish neighbor, and C loves both of them right back. And why? And how? Because all of them love G-d and recognize that the other two love G-d too.
The word الإسلام also means "peace". Islam is salaam, shalom -- words that mean "peace". If we are not at peace with our neighbor, we are not submitted to G-d. To submit to G-d is to look out for our neighbor and love that neighbor. John the Presbyter said "G-d is love", and he didn't mean that as poetry. He meant that we must submit ourselves to the love that makes us one. As long as we are divided amongst ourselves, we are not loving G-d and loving our neighbor.
I have always taken ذَٰلِكَ الدِّينُ الْقَيِّمُ in the latter sense. Allah is not saying "In the religion supermarket you'd better purchase Islam because all the others are false religions." What Allah IS saying is that the brand name on the package doesn't matter -- whether you're a Jew, a Christian, a Muslim (in the other sense), a Hindu, a Buddhist, or whatever -- no matter which, the CORE of that faith is submission to G-d. It's what they all have in common, and any ostensibly religious movement that demands you to submit yourself to the will of anything or anyone less than G-d -- to a demagogue, a human being, a creed, a flag, a country, a race, a "way of life" -- IS NOT TRUE RELIGION.
So ذَٰلِكَ الدِّينُ الْقَيِّمُ is telling us (no matter what our "brand name" religion might be) how we can evaluate if it is genuine religion or not if it is what we should submit ourselves to or not. If it requires us to submit ourselves to G-d's will, this phrase tells us, then forget about the brand name on the packaging -- it is true religion. But, if it demands us not to submit to G-d but instead to a finite thing of this world, then it is false religion and we should get away from it.
A true Muslim, no matter what brand-name-religion the person follows -- someone who is truly submitted to G-d, will encourage his Christian neighbor to be as good a Christian as possible, and his Jewish neighbor the same thing, her Muslim neighbor to be an exemplary Muslim, her Buddhist neighbor to be the best Buddhist he can be. How? By supporting these neighbors in their commitment to submit to G-d in their own way.
For Christians don't follow the laws of the Torah, which is what a good Jew does to submit to G-d. Jews don't pray five times a day facing Makkah, which is what Muslims (in that other sense) do to submit to G-d. But the Christian encourages his Jewish neighbor to obey the mitzvot of the Torah with a glad heart, and the Jew encourages his Muslim neighbor to pray five times a day with a heart full of gratitude and love.
Still, for all three, the Law is simple: Love G-d with all your heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself. As John the Presbyter put it, G-d is love. He wasn't trying to write a pretty poetic analogy. He meant that literally. Where love is, there is G-d. Where hate is, G-d is missing. Look into your heart and replace any hate you find with love. Make G-d more and more present in this world.
copyright notice: This article belongs exclusively to James David Audlin for use at his discretion.
When we wish to speak about the Trinity, we are touching upon a great holy mystery that is truly beyond all human comprehension.
When I was a teenager, we spoke about the Trinity is being “one God in three hypostases," not “three persons.” We did not use the word "persons." I remember asking Father Ananiadis the meaning of this word "hypostasis." He did not think that it meant quite the same as "person," or rather, I should say he did not believe that the word "person" actually reflected the meaning of hypostasis.
Hypostasis is an interesting word. It comes from the clarification of wine. When you set wine to clarify, it becomes dense at the bottom of the container, and this density is called the hypostasis. If the density formed at the top of the wine, it could be called a hyper-stasis.
When the word is used to refer to the mystery of the Trinity, we can see it signifying an aspect of the Essence which has become uniquely visible without ceasing to be part of the essence. Christ, that is, God the Word, was uniquely visible in the Old Testament. That is because all of the theophanies in the Old Testament were God the Word and never God the Father, who has “never been seen by any man at any time.” God the Word was always of one Essence with the Father, but was visibly manifested on Mount Sinai, to Abraham at the Oak, to Jacob and as the 4th figure seen in the fiery furnace as the “Angel of Great Counsel.”
Why do we refer to Mary as the Theotokos? We remember that the heretic Nestorius, like the Protestant sectarians after him, refused to acknowledge that, since Christ is God, Mary is the “birth giver of God.” Christ took flesh from the Virgin, otherwise He would not truly be fully human as well as truly God.
Perhaps when we use the traditional expression “one essence in three hypostases” it is easier to understand, since the word “person” is too limiting, too narrow in its concept and meaning, and the word hypostasis much more clearly expresses the mystery.
In the Incarnation, God the Word assumed human personhood, since he was fully human as well as fully God. Since he never ceased to be of one Essence with the Father and the Spirit, He was one hypostasis of that Divine Essence.
Mary did not give birth simply to a human person but was the vehicle and vessel of the Incarnation of the Living God. In my mind, this cannot be properly expressed by the word “person”, but only by the concept of hypostasis.
Realizing that this could be misinterpreted as a kind of “modalism,” I should add the adjective “distinct hypostasis.” Of course, if one wished to misinterpret it, no amount of qualifications would prevent that.
~~~
Hypostasis is being used metaphorically, so to translate literally into Latin or English – or German for that matter – would literalize the metaphor, and literalizing a metaphor always results in an idolatry.
From an Orthodox point of view, all human beings are part of the common human nature (ousia) – a nature that is fallen, susceptible to nature and to the laws of nature. Our hypostasis is what we can do with our own being – a personal being – and through which we have free will, etc.
I speak more about this in my book Freedom to Believe. The term "person" itself can lead to the same kind of idolatry if we see "three persons” as three radical individuals. Whichever word we may use, we have to understand precisely how it is being used and what, theologically, it actually means.
We speak of the three hypostases, not one hypostasis. But clearly, it describes – but does not define – an aspect of the one essence, and three hypostases of one essence is a description of the Holy Trinity.
And actually, this is what the conversation about the Theotokos was about. There are those who deny of the title Theotokos to the Virgin Mary because she was not the mother of God the Father and not the mother of the Holy Spirit, but rather of Jesus Christ. But what we are saying is that if you believe in Jesus Christ is God, “that in him dwelt the fullness of the Godhead bodily,” then Mary is the mother of God. If you deny that Jesus Christ is God, one hypostasis of the essence of God, then you will deny that Mary is the mother of God. The whole question is Christologocial--about whether Jesus Christ is God or not God. If one wishes to literalize and then misinterpret the use of the word hypostasis, that is their own affair.
I was moved by your empathetic videoed message to the Floyd family during the funeral service in Houston. You have deeply suffered multiple losses as this article sensitively points out: “Joe Biden’s Secret Weapon Is Grief“.
I also appreciated your drawing on Catholic Social Teaching. With relation to that teaching, I wonder: Do you see any connection at all between the most basic Christian teaching by Jesus in the Gospels to Love your neighbour/Love your enemies, and Black Lives Matter/American international foreign policy past or present?
I wonder in that light whether Arab Lives Matter?What about organized murder by your country of more than two million Arabs in Iraq, Syria, and Libya—more than a million in Iraq, 600,000 in Syria, and 30,000 in Libya? Many of these were murdered during your watch as Vice President.
I wonder whether at least in retrospect the three million Vietnamese Lives Matter, killed by your government, or whether you have ever spoken out against your country’s involvement in the Vietnam War that “ ‘was an atrocity from the get-go,’ [one veteran] said in a recent telephone interview. ‘It was that kind of war . . . There were hundreds of My Lais. You got your card punched by the numbers of bodies you counted[/murdered].’ ” This from The New York Times article: “Report on Brutal Vietnam Campaign Stirs Memories”.
I wonder whether Non-American Lives Matter—when deemed “The Enemy”?
Much significant work has been done on the life and prolific writing of Evelyn Underhill (certainly one of the most significant writers on the mystical life in the first half of the 20thcentury), but the research done on the impact of Baron von Hugel on Underhill has tended to be leaner, thinner and less developed. The sheer beauty and brilliance of this recent book by Robyn on Underhill is the way the close and symbiotic relationship between von Hugel and Underhill is carefully and thoughtfully tracked and traced. The fact that Eugene Peterson wrote a rather lengthy “Foreword” to the book, carefully noting his significant indebtedness to von Hugel, should alert the curious and interested in learning more about von Hugel: both Underhill and Peterson (and many others mentored into greater depths of the faith journey by this multilayered director of sorts).
Robyn, to her well-researched credit (her PhD done on von Hugel), does a chapter by chapter round dance between von Hugel and Underhill, photos of both of them, like welcoming portals, inviting us to see and hear them. This compact and rewarding read of a book is divided into six enticing sections (I read the bounty in two days—hard to turn away from it). As mentioned above, Eugene Peterson did the incisive “Foreword.” Once done, the plane leaves the tarmac.
1) “Introducing the Baron” makes for a pleasant overview of his engaged and careful life, a life that modeled a broad and truly catholic vision and vocation.
2) “Introducing Evelyn Underhill” answers chapter one handsomely, von Hugel having footed it well in the previous chapter. Those with some background in Underhill’s pilgrimage through time will find this a lovely refresher chapter and those new to Underhill a fine primer.
3) “The Baron’s spiritual formation of Evelyn Underhill” brings the two dancers together, the nature of the eternal dance and steps to be learned and revealed well and wisely.
4) “Motherhood of souls: Evelyn the spiritual director” ponders how Underhill picked up the torch offered her by von Hugel and rethought and restated much of his insights in a more accessible way and manner, Underhill no uncritical devotee of von Hugel, the best of him internalized by Underhill as a mother of souls.
5) “Motherhood of souls: Evelyn the retreat director” moves the discussion from Underhill as a prolific writer on mysticism and directee of von Hugel to the practical and regular giving of retreats by Underhill (something von Hugel never did). The finale or “Afterword” to The Spiritual Formation of Evelyn Underhill brings together (dance steps learned well and wisely) the way Von Hugel, Underhill and Peterson have formed, in many ways, Robyn’s emerging vocation and charism, a variety of passages from Peterson’s books and emails to Robyn from Peterson included to end the book, Robyn being a student of Peterson when she studied at Regent College in the days when Peterson was there. I might also add the copious “Notes” and “References” make this a book worth many a meditative read and inward digesting.
It might have been interesting to ponder, given the years that von Hugel (1852-1925) and Underhill (1875-1941) were alive and active in the English context, how they understood the catholic relationship between contemplation, church, ecclesial ecumenism and substantive public and political issues that Anglican Divines such as F.D. Maurice, Charles Gore, Percy Dearmer and Conrad Noel embodied. I might add that there is a brief but touching correspondence between Underhill and C.S. Lewis, initiated by Underhill in her waning years before Lewis had waxed.
I have been fond of Evelyn Underhill for many decades and read Baron von Hugel also, but this is the best book to date that threads together, in a well-woven tapestry, the impact of von Hugel on Underhill and the way Underhill internalized the best of von Hugel and passed the gift and torch on to others, including C.S. Lewis, Eugene Peterson and Robyn Wrigley-Carr—many thanks to Robyn for such a charmer of a book.
Perhaps a fitting adieu to the review might best be summed by Bob Cratchit’s response to the fine feast his wife prepared for the family Christmas dinner: “A triumph, my dear, another triumph.”
As the big orange ball rose in the east earlier this morning, above the forest edge, and just beyond the shallow horizon outside my window, I was reminded of a most beautiful idea: ‘that darkness does not get the last word; that night does not have the final say.’
In that spirit, I wrote a prayer. I enjoy writing out my meditations perhaps as much for me as for anyone who might encounter them.
It’s a sabbath prayer.
According to Walter Brueggeman, the understanding of Sabbath which emerges from the Exodus narrative is that “wherever YHWH governs as an alternative to Pharaoh, the restfulness of YHWH effectively counters the restless anxiety of Pharaoh.”
Restless anxiety.
We are surrounded by restless anxiety at this moment in history.
Surely, if our hearts and consciences and spirits are home to the image of God writ large on us, AND, our confession that Christ is Lord, then it isn’t a stretch to suggest that YHWH is governing us, as opposed to the alternative governance of any spirit of the day. (For the ancients this was Pharaoh and his demands for more. More production from his forced labourers for the benefit of some, but not all. Then more consumption of the very same goods which in turn drives the need for more production.).
Does any of that sound remotely familiar?
Sabbath perhaps then, is as much a resistance of ‘something’ as it is anything else.
Brueggeman again states that Sabbath is “a visible insistence that our lives are not defined by the production and consumption of commodity goods.” If Pharaoh demands production and consumption, then YHWH offers us rest from that very thing. Perhaps he offers us this rest in and through the intentionality of asserting Sabbath as a way of saying NO to a culture that demands allegiance to its productivity and consumption in the NOW. Saying NO to a culture whose ideas repeatedly demand a pound of flesh yet offer (relatively) precious little restoration.
Brueggeman continues, “it is unfortunate that in society, largely out of a misunderstood Puritan heritage, Sabbath has gotten enmeshed in the legalism and moralism of life-denying practices that contradict the freedom bestowing intention of Sabbath.
Sabbath is a bodily act of testimony...resisting the pervading values of the day.
The odd insistence of the God of Sinai is to counter anxious productivity with committed neighbourliness...which rather than producing anything, it creates an environment of security and respect and dignity that redefines the human project.”
And so, my prayer:
“Lord, in your mercy, I choose to express my gratitude for a day of ALTERNATIVES, and RESISTANCE to the anxiety-infused spirit of the modern day Pharaohs of my heart and life. May you brighten my courage to the joy of saying NO today...NO to the cultural demands...NO to the cultural demands even at times within the church community...NO to life-denying practices...NO to isolation and self-absorption. May you fire my imagination to experience a rising tide of committed neighbourliness today, a tide that offers security, respect, and dignity to and for others, even as it offers the very same thing to, in and through me.
And may we all know, in that deeply restorative manner of Spirit, that the night, and its darkness, does not get the final word over us today.
It would be a grievous shame if we (Canada) lost this moment...this opportunity to face and redress our own founding sins... to reconcile and reset for the possibility of “relations based in justice."
There are some significant signs of hope.
Imagine evangelicals across Canada walking in costly solidarity with Indigenous peoples/nations to pursue “relations based in justice”! Yesterday, at the Naiits: An Indigenous Learning Community symposium, representatives of The Evangelical Fellowship of Canada made an amazing commitment to pursue this dream... a dream that Elijah Harper had originally put before us in the 1995 Sacred Assembly, a dream that we said “Yes” to some 25 years ago.
Below is the text of today’s sacred commitment. Please pray for the many (including me) who will be working at this. Words without flesh, we know, are empty and harmful. We want to embody this:
The Evangelical Fellowship of Canada is committed to working in collaboration with its Indigenous-Settler Relations Working Group to prompt conversation and action amongst its affiliates in relation to the following:
a. Circulating the Proclamation to key leaders in EFC circles. b. Re-introducing (or in many cases, introducing for the first time) the Proclamation to the EFC affiliates. c. Instituting an annual re-membering ceremony and training (as to what it means) among EFC leadership and constituency representatives. d. Building awareness around Indigenous and colonial history (cf. TRC Calls to Action, #59). e. Initiate an awareness campaign/educational effort to share the good news of this Proclamation with constituencies.
2. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission's Call to Action #49, repudiation of the Doctrine of Discovery and other legal fictions that claim jurisdiction over Indigenous lands and peoples. a. Review existing resources developed by church bodies and/or create a short study resource for EFC affiliates to articulate its significance and implications for engagement.
3. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission's Call to Action #48, the adoption of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) and its meaning and implications for evangelical church communities.
4. An unsettling of evangelical theology resulting in evangelical thought and practice in Canada that:
a. renounces white supremacy b. renounces concepts used to justify European sovereignty over Indigenous lands and peoples c. proclaims that justice in human relationships is integral to God's plan for restoration and affirms God's preferential option for the poor and oppressed d. repudiates the idea of being neutral on issues of Indigenous justice, but commits to the struggle of being with those who are oppressed and fighting non-violently against the idols of our day as we pursue collective peace e. proclaims that Jesus is found amongst the most vulnerable and persecuted
5. Learning from partner ecumenical bodies that are leading the way in Indigenous justice, such as KAIROS, supporting their advocacy efforts as appropriate.
6. Develop a theology of stewardship of land and creation and how that impacts our relationships to lands and waters and how we might stand with the Indigenous communities that protect them.
7. Establish a review and accountability mechanism to measure and evaluate progress on the action items listed above. This will include sharing our commitment with the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation (Winnipeg, MB), and submitting annual updates.
The Institute for Religion, Peace and Justice (St. Stephen's University) is accepting applications for our online, six-course, accredited Certificate program for the fall 2020 semester. This program can be completed in eight months and is for *any* curious and thoughtful person who wants to integrate spiritual and theological considerations with practical peace work, nonviolent activism, peacemaking, and advocacy for either personal enrichment and knowledge acquisition or professional enhancement.
The Certificate is a stand-alone credential that can enhance one's preparation and experience for use in organizations that focus on peace and humanitarian work, including NGOs and non-profits, and as a professional development upgrade.
The Certificate is also a professional enhancement credential for clergy who want to guide their church community in the ways of peace and justice spiritually, theologically, and practically.
For more information, visit irpj.org/certificate To check your eligibility and to apply, visit irpj.org/admissions The Certificate program can also be completed as the online Peace Studies Track of SSU's M.A. or M.Min in Theology & Culture. For more information on this, visit irpj.org/graduate-degrees If you have any questions, please feel free to contact our director, Dr. Andrew Klager — andrewklager@ssu.ca. Or you may wish to visit our FAQs page: irpj.org/faq
That people are in an important sense held responsible for things that happened before they were born is a frequent theme in Old Testament descriptions of humanity and how the world works.
There is in the collective biblical mind such a thing as social, intergenerational, and even national sin.
We are responsible for each other. This is Judaism and it is Christianity.
It surprises me how often those who are seeking to expose and bring justice for systemic racism are told by some Christians that they cannot be held responsible for something their grandparents or great grandparents did.
There is an important sense in which this is true. I cannot be tried for a murder my great grandfather committed.
And yet the Scriptures describe how the collective sins of a people are eventually judged by God, even judged by the creation. And this judgment can be experienced generations after a societal transgression (often a systemic and ongoing one) occurs.
While I am at it, I find it strange that when folks try to address racial hatred and injustice some Christians will respond that the only way to ameliorate racial hatred is by converting hearts, not by marching in the streets or passing legislation.
Ironically, it’s often those same Christians who will march in the streets to end abortion, spend enormous energy on Supreme Court appointments, and hang their entire vote on the question.
It seems to me there are practical things to do to combat sin and there’s also the need to recognize that God alone is capable of converting our hearts and minds and that all of it—the converting and the marching, the inner renewal and the outward rectification—are gracious participations in what *God alone is doing.*
There’s this complexity to existence that binds us to what every other human says and does, and that something like a mystery of inherited guilt is real.
God alone is capable of removing this guilt and it is what one human being says and does and endures on the cross as God that removes this stain, and yet the new life beyond death into which we Christians are baptized involves also our free participation in God’s works of justice that reconcile the world to himself.
It’s all grace and it’s all work. It was and is and will be the grace and the work of the human God alone, and the human God alone is glorified in all the things he creates and forever sustains in life.
The ineffable beauty, the inestimable value of the light of Christ within is like a diamond. "Let the Children Teach" reveals the wisdom of children and their intrinsic understanding of the diamond within. The children interviewed range in age from 4 to 10, and none were prepped or coached prior to filming. Katie Skurja and young children dialog about the concepts of our Imago Dei, the metaphor of the peanut M&M, and the value of embracing paradox.
As a teenager I naively rushed into the realm of politics, exhilarated by the opportunity to jump out of the academic training pool and into the arena. The deepest lessons to be learned in life come from actually living it, the deepest betrayals and sorrows as well as the most profound loves, loyalty and beauty.
Of course, the consequence of jumping into the arena too soon though, is you learn the most painful lessons through your own mistakes rather than by the parables of others. A theme both Jordan Peterson and Ron Dart give much weight to; the value of mythology and stories in guiding our deeper purpose and meaning in this lifetime.
We look at foolish missteps of innocent yet naive characters like Pinocchio or the deep sacrificial meaning in the story of Christ. What do these themes mean in our own life? How do we avoid the naivety of Pinocchio and the consequences of falling for swindlers and liars, how do we have the same forgiveness and love as Christ?
Questions I unfortunately never got much time to ponder as I was busy living my own adventure and making my own mistakes. On that adventure, I was, however, lucky enough to come across some sages and Gandalf or Dumbledore style mentors in my life, who almost certainly sent me on wiser and more considered routes on my journey.
I recall vividly the first time I saw Peterson standing on the steps of Sidney Smith Hall. I was there to rile up some debate with the more hysterical of students spitting curses and slander at him. Perhaps even to have a laugh at their expense and show the world the ridiculousness of those hoping to silence this professor over a simple philosophical disagreement.
In contrast to my enthusiasm when met with dramatics; Peterson had a deep sorrow in his eyes, a pain to the core of his soul that could hardly be conveyed properly by any second-hand medium. I have no doubt it came from his dedicated study of authoritarian regimes, his love of philosophy and how undeniably lost these youth appeared to be. Students who should be on those steps to expand their minds and soak in the thoughts and ideas of other scholars with love and curiosity. Students who should be learning the stories, parables, and history of men who foolishly fall into the traps of mob mentality picking up pitchforks rather than books. Learning of the consequences of demanding the death of critics rather than debate. Yet instead, these students so blessed with the gift of freedom and a voice had used it to fall into those very same traps once again.
It’s easy to pose with a Bible in front of a church. It’s hard to allow yourself to be encountered by the Living God that walks its pages.
It’s easy to burn down a Muslim family’s small restaurant in Minneapolis. It’s hard to build a business over decades with your children and see it go up in flames overnight.
It’s easy to break a window. It’s hard to put yourself between a BIPOC protester and the shields and batons of a tone-deaf state.
It’s easy to circle the wagons and deny that many police departments have serious deficits in training and tactics, to pretend that police brutality is not a real and present danger. It’s hard to take off the tactical gear, like Sheriff Chris Swanson did, admit there are problems, and march with protesters and stand with protesters for change.
It’s easy to denounce racism in another. It’s hard to discover and confess racism in myself, to have the courage to name racism in the structures of my society, to put anti-racism into practice.
It’s easy to paint all law enforcement with the brush of Derek Chauvin, Tou Thao, J. Alexander Kueng, and Thomas Lane. It’s hard to put on the uniform with a genuine desire to serve and protect, and feel many judging your vocation by its worst actors.
It’s easy to violently clear a street of peaceful protesters for a photo-op. It’s hard to sit down and listen to what’s animating their protest.
It’s easy to Tweet a James Baldwin quote or post a meme by Austin Channing Brown. It’s hard to read their books and sit with their ideas (like a book requires you to do) and ponder fundamental change in yourself and in society.
It’s easy to sow chaos and confusion, to manipulate a moment of crisis in order to promote divisiveness and destruction. It’s hard to bring people to a table and get them to recognize what together ails them and how they might transcend the crisis to achieve a just mercy.
It’s easy to say and do what your tribe expects you to say and do. It’s hard to go against your tribe for the sake of others and for the sake of your tribe.
It’s easy to get tired of hearing about racism. It’s hard to keep experiencing racism.
It’s easy to join a riot. It’s hard to restrain your community for hundreds of years while they are oppressed and murdered.
It’s easy to burn it all down. It’s hard to build it back up.
It’s easy to issue a statement. It’s hard to live the words.
It’s easy to hate. It’s so very, very hard to love.
The Quran with Christian Commentary: A Guide to Understanding The Scripture of Islam Zondervan Academic, 2020 Gordon D. Nickel
There has been centuries-long engagement between Christianity and Islam, and there have been many ways of both belief-faith traditions doing their best to make sense of one another. There has been the “conflict tradition” in which differences are held high and discord dominates. There has been the “dialogical tradition”, so near and dear to interfaith types, in which some form of unity and concord is the ideological bent (neither side wanting to offend one another in an era and ethos of pluralism). The approach to both traditions can be to focus on the founders or the history of these heritages (and a comparison and contrast between them). There are those on the political right who mostly see Islam as a religion of violence and terrorism. There are those on the progressive left that only seem to see the moderate and peaceful side of Islam. Needless to say, both tribes go cherry-picking with the facts they chose to bring forth as evidence. There is, also, an approach that compares and contrasts the two sacred texts (Bible and Quran). It is this approach that is used by Gordon Nickel in The Quran with Christian Commentary.
The study of the Quran, like a study of the Bible, can be done in two ways: uncritically devotional or textually critical. The textually critical (the Christian Tradition has lived with this approach for a few centuries) can lead to a dismissal of the text as interesting yet irrelevant or illuminate how the text can be read in a more informed and nuanced manner. The devotional approach is often quite uncritical (and when legitimate questions are asked, the questioner is seen as the problem).
Gordon Nickel (who has spent much of his mature life studying both the Quran and Islamic history with some of the best scholars in the world) brings to his study of Islam and the Quran both an appreciative yet critical reading of the 114 Suras. There is a tendency, by Christians, to either focus on the negative verses-suras in the Quran or, as some Muslims and Christians do, ignore and subordinate such verses-suras through the use of “abrogation”. Nickel’s, to his thoughtful and informed credit, walks a judicious middle way, between textual demonization and devotional hagiography. The close reading of the 114 suras (with many thoughtful comments and reflections) highlights contentious texts within the Quran (that Muslims grapple with and attempt to interpret and apply) and those suras-verses in the Quran which seem to deliberately misread and misinterpret both the Jewish and Christian sacred texts. The fact that Nickel’s consciously examines and probes both dilemmas makes The Quran with Christian Commentary a tome worthy of many a meditative and challenging read.
It is only in the last few decades that North America has had to deal with Islam. Most in North America have virtually no understanding of the origins of Islam, the Quran, Islamic history and the diverse forms of Islam in the world today. The fact that Islam is the 2nd largest religion in the world has a significant presence in the world (increasingly so in North America) means that deliberate ignorance of both the Quran and Islam is a sort of cloistered virtue, a putting of the head into the sand, an ignoring of a growing cultural reality that will continue to be a pressing issue ever more so as we move forward into the future. The fact the Quran is the foundation and authoritative text for Muslims means that any minimal engagement with Muslims means a thoughtful read of the text is imperative. Gordon Nickel has provided both such a text (using the translation by A.J. Droge) and, more importantly, his multiple reflections and commentaries are pure gold. Gordon, as any good thinker should, walks the judicious middle way between a negative approach to the text or a devotional one—the attempt is to truly understand what the Quran is saying and, at times, ask critical questions about what is said (and the implications of it).
The Bibliography at the beginning of this almost 700-page tome is more than worthy of note and significance. Those who are serious and seek to mature in a thoughtful Christian and Jewish engagement with Islam and the Quran will find some of the finest books offered to them in the Bibliography. I might add that Gordon has published a variety of articles and books on Islam, his most recent books being The Gentle Answer to the Muslim Accusation of Biblical Falsification (2015) and Narratives of Tampering in the Earliest Commentaries on the Qur’an (2011). I might add, by way of conclusion, I have had Gordon speak in some of my classes in lower-upper levels of Islam (often more Muslims than any others in the classes). Gordon’s lectures, insights and answers to Muslim queries went step for step with many of the objections of Muslims from both Sunni and Shia backgrounds (none of the students knowing Classical Arabic and the Quran in the depth and detail Gordon did).
There can be no doubt that The Quran with Christian Commentary is a sura by sura thoughtful portal into facing the text and possible interpretations of it. Such an approach is both willing to face the difficult passages but do so in a gentle yet honest and responsible manner. This is a book one and all should have as a mentor of sorts into Quranic studies. If Gordon’s approach were followed, a more meaningful encounter between Christians and Muslims would shape the future dialogue.
I want to share briefly about my experience of the interview. I will make it about me. Because that's what I'm prone to do in the midst of other's crises. If you haven't seen the interview, here it is. My reflections follow below the video.
Now, I want to briefly share my experience of the interview. First, as you can tell, I felt awkward. I think that's appropriate right now. I just know we need to wade into hearing the lament of those who are poor in spirit, mourning, hungry and thirsty for justice right now. I'm okay with awkward if that's what NOT "turning from my own flesh and blood" requires (cf. Isaiah 58:6-12).
Amidst the fear, chaos and flames of the past weeks, I am convinced that hearing the voice of prophetic protest against systems that undergird, generate and justify racism is to hear "the word of the Lord."
At no time did I feel David condemning or shaming me for the colour of my skin. What I heard was what many African Americans feel and what they experience ... that was my agenda coming into the conversation and how David framed what he said. I heard his critiques of "whites" in the context of white supremacy, which I regard as a demonic ideology rooted in fear and practiced as violence. I also recognize the issue more broadly as *whiteness*--not simply the colour of my skin but in terms of racial identity, privilege and bias, consciously practiced or unconsciously assumed. While I do not consciously identify with white supremacy, during the interview, I tried to be vigilant and mindful, watching the mirror for my own blind complicity to racial assumptions, especially by omission.
The conversation prepared me for authentic identificational repentance, where I could genuinely say, "I am so sorry. WE have sinned." I think of the prophet Daniel's confession in Daniel 9:5 as an act of vicarious national repentance and Jesus' undergoing John's "baptism of repentance" as an act of vicarious sin-bearing confession and cleansing. Identifying my participation in and contribution to the problem (even in silence) led me to mean what I said. I AM sorry. WE have sinned.
Although David is an empowered man, a serious academic and an effective shepherd, I wanted to hear him in this moment of fresh lament, because I believe our first order of business as Christ-followers is co-suffering love with those who've had a knee on their neck for many centuries. I want to discern the lament communicated in David's quiet and thoughtful voice and also beneath and above and through the outrage that takes desperate people to the streets. And I want to say that I don't like looting or vandalism, but surely we can see the asymmetry between that reaction and its chronic backstory of lynching and murder.
All that to say, David gently enabled me to feel real grief for the African-American community rather than shaming me for the unearned advantages I enjoy as an accident of my pigment. He also suggested ways for me to avoid becoming the hateful monster I want to overcome. I am still meditating on the important implications of his advice to "speak out against injustice without thinking that to do so is being extreme." And as my sons have modeled for me, pushing back at the darkness starts where we're most vulnerable to it: flagging moments with our own friends and family when they think private racial slurs are acceptable.
Brad Jersak interviews activist, pastor, teacher, Dr. David N. Moore. He is the author of Making America Great Again: Fairy Tale? Horror Story? Dream Come True?
David and Brad discuss racism in America, the fears that drive it, the "disorder of territoriality" and the asymmetry of racial protests. How do we avoid becoming the very monster we oppose.
"I noticed similarities between my experience and those of survivors of abuse, especially with reference to their need to tell their story, and thereby reclaim their lives. Having lived most of my life in the world of white Christians, feeling unheard on matters of race and empire, this book is an important part of my personal journey towards forgiveness and even, in some cases, hope for reconciliation."
Jamie Winship of IdentityExchange.com and a former Washington DC Metro area police officer, addresses the George Floyd incident, the brokenness of police culture and how to face our own fears that generate violence.
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