Life of the Word of God: Psalm 119 (3)

Provide for your servant
That I may live and keep your word.
Open my eyes,
That I may take in the wonders of your law.
I am a stranger in the land;
Do not hide from me your commands!
My soul is torn up
with constant longing for your judgments.
You rebuke the proud;
Cursed are those who wander from your commands.
Roll away from disgrace and contempt,
For I have tended your statutes.
Though princes sit and whisper against me,
Your servant will meditate on your stipulations.
Your decrees are my delight,
They are my counselors.

The third stanza of Psalm 119 highlights the alienation that a life according to the word of God brings about. The Psalmists prayer begins, of course, with his renewed desire to grasp God’s word. But he moves to the recognition that this has made him an alien in the land, a weirdo. Yet this can be borne as long as God’s Word is not hidden. He is not unaffected by the disgrace and contempt he suffers; yet there is no regret. There is no hope for those who reject God’s Word. So even in the midst of slander and danger, he will make time to attend to Scripture. Even when the powerful are lost to him, he has the surest of counsellors.

Bonhoeffer on conversations with the indifferent

Here is Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in the mid 1930s, on talking to people in the parish who are not that interested:

There are three different modes of indecision which we should not confuse with one another:
First mode: there are people who receive such fulfillment through vocation and family that they lack nothing. They are satisfied, content, and fortunate. They attend church sporadically when it suits them or they feel the need for some celebration. They live alongside the church.
Second mode: these are the educated and cultured folk who are above ecclesiastical things. As one is above school and teacher, so is one above church and pastor. They are angry with the narrow-mindedness of the church and the partial education of the pastor. They deem some bits of knowledge from the philosophy of religion worthwhile. The educated stand, on the one hand, next to the church, and on the other, over the church. Perhaps today they feel that they will never again find their way into a real church.
Third mode: these are the callous, the discontented, the disappointed, who miss no opportunity for anger against church and pastor. They stand against the church. (Spiritual Care, Fortress, 1985)

Of course, everything is different these days:)

Spike

In the past two days, this blog has experienced a major spike in traffic (about 1200% about average). This is due, I’m led to believe, to some links on Facebook. The funny thing, though, is that I have seen almost no discussion because I’m not on Facebook, and because Facebook deliberately makes it less likely for people to comment on blogs (for details, see this post by Byron).

Anyway, thanks for the interest everyone. And please feel free to follow me on rss.

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Ten reasons to choose Moore Theological College to train for ministry

I have just finished the bachelor of divinity at Moore Theological College. Four years of full-time study is a lot. It costs in time and money; and it’s something you only get to do once (unless you’re crazy). Four and a half years ago, I was seriously considering not going to Moore College. I was looking particularly at a shorter, fancier option overseas. I’m glad, though, I decided to stay here, and I thought I would take the time to explain why I believe MTC is an excellent choice for those wanting to train for ministry. The following ten reasons are focused on the content and style of the MTC program. There are other things I could have talked about, like the fact that MTC is full of nice people. But I wanted to explain why I think Moore offers a good course of study for those heading towards church leadership.

1. There is more in the Bible than you think. Therefore, a program centred on Biblical Studies is a good thing. This may seem like a simple thing to say, but it’s important. It is the perennial failing of systematic theology to assume it already knows what the Bible says when it does not. The reason it does not is because we never do. God’s Word has and will always have fresh news for us. Our systems are never final. We are and can only ever be catching up with Scripture. The fact is, there is more in the Bible than you think; and because of this, it is good to have a program centred on Biblical studies. Not because Biblical Studies is all you need to read the Bible (see point two); but because there is a certain cavalier optimism to biblical studies that teaches you to wade into texts in all their historical embeddedness, cultural relativity, and linguistic complexity, and in the midst of it, very often, to hear something you haven’t heard before.

2. There is more to reading the Bible than biblical studies. Discerning what in fact the Bible says and how it relates to the gospel of Jesus Christ is not easy. We need help from those who have gone before; and we need conceptual clarification. It is a great strength of MTC that as part of the study of theology it is committed to both church history and philosophy. Yes, philosophy; because like it or not, we have no choice but to articulate the truth of the gospel in human language and using human concepts, and in conversation with the world in which we find ourselves. It is, in my view, extremely naïve to think that we can get very far without serious attempt to integrate what we read in the Bible, and think it together with the help of the language and concepts we have available.

3. Moore College is a theological college, not just a Bible college. MTC is underpinned by a conviction that Christians and Christian churches have an interest not just in Bible study, but in theological synthesis. This is not in any way to denigrate the Bible; it is rather to take the Bible with the seriousness which it deserves: as a whole, a unified revelation from God focused on the person of Jesus, which demands of us the task of synthesis and conceptual articulation. Because of this, Moore College understands itself as a reformed theological college, which means that it stands in the theological tradition of the reformation, especially as it was articulated by Calvin.

4. Yet systematic theology is only any good when it is biblical. That said, as per point one, there is very little tolerance at Moore for a dogged allegiance to systematic formulations. Moore is a reformed college; but that’s not its first loyalty. Calvin is a hero; but he’s not the Messiah. Theology, the task of discerning the meaning and shape of God’s revelation in the Christ of the Scriptures, is not something that can ever be done very far from the Scriptures. Overall, then, you could sum up the intellectual goal of Moore College like this: MTC aims to do systematic theology in as close proximity as possible to primary interaction with Scripture. This goal is what has given rise to “biblical theology”.

5. Biblical theology is more difficult and important than you realise. MTC has a reputation for doing “biblical theology”. What is meant by this is the practice of appreciating the way themes and ideas unfold throughout the story of the Bible, with sensitivity to the diversity of Scripture. As such, Biblical theology is essentially a way of paying attention to the canon without denying the particularity of the different parts of Scripture. Biblical theology is deceptively simple — and the possibility of oversimplification is in fact a danger; but at its best, biblical theology facilitates an attentiveness to Scripture that is of fundamental importance for Christian knowledge. Too often, ideas in Scripture are detached from their actual presentation in the text, and from their place in the canon, in order to become proof-texts for dogmatic pre-commitments. I believe biblical theology is an essential tool for the theological task today. On my reading, protestant systematic theology today finds itself somewhat uncomfortably torn between a return to a fully-fledged classical reformed position, and an uncertain amalgam of reformation principles, Barthian insights, and patristic contributions. I do not believe either is a real option (though there’s a lot of good gear here!). The way forward can only be via a fuller and clearer attention to Scripture. Biblical theology is a tool to help us do that, and it’s a good reason to go to MTC.

6. Ethics. Ethics is the Protestant way of talking about what Catholics call “Moral Theology”. Both are fine because both are inadequate. As if Christians ever really have an interested in some realm of “morals” isolated from the Christian life, from creation, from grace. Moore College has, I believe, a strong, healthy, and stimulating ethics course, which in fourth year can lead into Social Ethics. Ethics is one of the key places in which Christian faith converses and butts heads with the world we’re a part of. A careful, nuanced consideration of this topic is essential for a education for a ministry that will increasingly involve an apologetic element.

7. You don’t know what you need to know. One of my reservations about MTC before I began was its very set program. There are no real electives until fourth year, and even then there are only a couple. This can feel a bit stifling of individuality! I still think there is room for a little more flexibility; but I have come around a great deal to the value of a set program. Why? Because I didn’t actually know what I needed to know. Left to myself, I would not have chosen some of the subjects I was called to study. But I’m glad I did them. So often at college I have realised after the fact that it is in fact very good that I learnt this or that, even though I did not necessarily see it beforehand. Young men (read over-confident young men) beware! You do not actually know what you need to learn in order to be a good minister.

8. Trying to be both confessional and academically rigorous is not easy, but is essential. MTC aims to do a difficult thing: to be both a “confessional” place of learning, meaning one where certain truths are assumed and held in common, and an academically rigorous institution. For many people, this is in fact impossible. It’s either or. But MTC does not believe this, and neither do I. For if God has in fact spoken; if truth has been revealed; then to simply put our faith in endeavour and investigation, in human reason, is a fool’s errand. Yet to assume we have fully grasped what God has said; to assume we now know all we need to know, is equally foolish and a failure of service to God’s people. If the truth that has been revealed really is the truth, then it is in fact the goal of academic endeavour, even if it may never reach it. Christians, at least some of them, are called to the difficult task of trying to show and articulate the truth in the gospel in the context of the intellectual community. This will at times appear foolish, at times feel frustrating; but it is not mistaken in principle.

9. MTC attempts to educate people for serious engagement with intellectual questions, as well as for pastoral ministry. This is not an easy thing to do, and inevitably, there are frustrations. Not enough time is spent on this or that. Criticisms have been made in the past that MTC does not adequately prioritise pastoral training, preaching, and so on. There has been, at times, something to this criticism. At the end of four years there are certainly aspects of the job I am going for that I don’t feel particularly equipped for. But I do not think I would want it the other way round. Christian ministry is not, first and foremost, a matter of technique, however helpful that may be. It is an activity that arises out of a deep engagement with the word of God. In a world where deep engagements are few and far between, I do not believe it will truly be useful, in the long run, to exchange that for a greater familiarity with ministerial activities. However tempted we may be to believe otherwise, the church will not grow simply through effective management or engaging preaching, but through a clear and deep response to the Word of God.

10. A lot of currently popular views about what is required to be a pastor, are wrong. To end, then, on a slightly polemical note. I am convinced that much currently fashionable rhetoric about pastoring, church planting, and entrepreneurial leadership, is mistaken. At the end of the day, what is required of a pastor is to have a deep and convicted attentiveness to what Paul calls “these things” (1 Tim 4:11). If you believe that — and it’s not especially easy to believe — then Moore College is a good place for you.

Mindful of an absence

Over summer, I read Marilynne Robinson’s terrific Absence of Mind. It is a great book and I highly recommend it. With precision and flare, Robinson tears into the “parascientific literature” of today which smugly proclaims that we now finally understand human beings, and guess what — they’re just animals and the whole consciousness, spirit, soul, mind thing is all a bit of a mistake. Here is Robinson:

The schools of thought that support the modernist consensus are profoundly incompatible with one another, so incompatible that they cannot be taken collectively to support one grand conclusion. That they are understood to have done so might reasonably be taken to suggest that this irresistible conclusion came before, perhaps inspired, the arguments that have been and still are made to support it. I propose that the core assumption that remains unchallenged and unquestioned through all the variations within the diverse traditions of ‘modern’ thought is that the experience and testimony of the individual mind is to be explained away, excluded from consideration when any rational account is to be made of the nature of human being and of being altogether. In its place we have the grand projects of generalization, solemn efforts to tell our species what we are and what we are not, that were early salients of modern thought. Sociology and anthropology are two examples. (p22).

Two particular highlights of the book include Robinson’s pointing out that the concept of a meme in parascientific literature in fact opens the door to the concept of mind beyond genetics, and her suggestion that Freud’s theories must be understood as a culturally-embedded reaction to European anti-semitism.

Life of the Word of God: Psalm 119 (2)

How can a young man keep his way pure,
To guard it according to your word?
With my whole heart, I seek you;
Do not let me stray from your commands.
I hide your word in my heart,
That I might not sin against you.
Blessed are you, Lord,
Teach me your statutes!
With my lips I recount
All the judgments of your mouth.
In the way of your decrees I rejoice
More than in all wealth.
I will ponder your stipulations;
I will focus on your ways.
I delight in your statutes;
I shall not forget your word.

Many of the elements we saw in the first stanza are present here: the rich vocabulary for the word of God (although here God’s word is explicitly mentioned more clearly; the concern for one’s way in the world (although the terminology is slightly different); and the idea of attention as fundamental to obedience.

There are some new elements though. I am especially struck by the evocative language used to depict the process of integrating God’s teaching into life: hiding in one’s heart, pondering, recounting with the lips. This is what it takes to seek God with the whole heart. Also, the Psalmist’s intention to delight in God’s word makes an impression. He recognises that the Word of God must enter into not just his mind, but his heart; it must form not just his thoughts, but his loves, his affections. What we see here is an integrated spirituality of mind, body and will.

Life of the Word of God: Psalm 119 (1)

Blessed are the blameless of way
—those who walk in the law of the Lord.
Blessed are those who watch his decrees,
with all their heart they seek him!
Surely they do no wrong;
they walk in his way.
You have commanded your stipulations to be carefully kept.
Oh that my way might be established
to keep your statutes!
Then I would never be ashamed,
with eyes fixed on all your commands.
I would praise you with upright heart,
when I learnt your just judgments.
I shall keep your statutes;
Do not abandon me completely.

A number of things stand out about the dramatic opening of Psalm 119. First, a strikingly rich vocabulary is used to describe both the nature of God’s law and the nature of obedience to it. God’s word comes as law, decrees, stipulations, statutes, commands and judgments, each of these six representing a different word in the Hebrew. And obedience is a matter of walking in, watching, seeking, keeping, fixing the eyes, and learning. The dominant idea, though, is keeping, the Hebrew verb for which (shâmar) is used three times. But this verb can also be translated watch over, and as such it really encompasses a lot of the ideas in the passage. The life of obedience, at least for this Psalm, is centrally a matter of attentiveness, the directedness of the mind and heart towards the word of God.

It is this, I think, which leads the Psalmist to the note of uncertainty bordering on dismay that permeates the Psalm: how can he keep his attention focussed in this way? How can he make sure that his way is established according to God’s commands? He knows he can’t! And so he prays that God will not abandon him, frail and fickle though he is.

A final comment about these opening verses: the form of obedience is centrally attentiveness. The shape it takes over time is a way. Three times the Psalmist mentions the idea of a way: he admires the blameless of way. He describes this as walking in God’s way. And he seeks that his way might be established. What the Psalmist desires is a life that has a shape to it, a narrative that is like a path winding through the difficulties of living. He sees his life as a whole, a way, which can take a variety of different shapes.

Christians, too, are called to a life of attentiveness. “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness”. And so there is something in this Psalm’s longing for single-mindedness in faith we ought to relate to and take on. But the note of anxiety I detect here ought to be different, I think, for rather than seeking to establish our way ourselves, we are following the one who has opened the way for us, and we know we will not be abandoned.

There is more to say, but after all, we’re only at aleph!*

*Psalm 119 is an acrostic poem with very verse of each stanza beginning with a letter of the alphabet. So each verse in this section (vv1–8) begins with the Hebrew letter aleph. It’s actually quite stunning.

Russell on Occupy

My friend Matheson Russell is writing a guest series on Byron’s blog on the Occupy movement and what it should make us think about. Here’s an excerpt:

“Surprisingly perhaps, economic prosperity and even military success are not centrally expected of kings or governments. Such happy outcomes are typically attributed to divine providence and not to human skill or virtue; material prosperity and military victory are characteristically interpreted as the sign of God’s blessing or favour, but — importantly — they are never considered the automatic consequence of good government.”

Interesting hey?

A Holy-Spirit-of-the-gaps theology of ministry

I was recently sent a copy of an online interview with a currently famous and influential American church leader, in which he spoke about how he prepares sermons. The main bombshell was his comment that he generally prepares for about an hour. Now, this man is a very gifted preacher and I have no particular qualms with what he said. Some of his comments, though, reminded me of something I have heard elsewhere: a sense that less preparation somehow allows more room for the Holy Spirit to move.

We can very easily slip into a kind of Holy-Spirit-of-the-gaps theology of ministry, where what we really believe is that it is either me who works or the Spirit who works. What the Spirit does is to fill in the gaps, to make up for what I am not doing. This, I think, is a bad error.

It is certainly true that there are moments in which the Spirit “steps in”, so to speak. “Do not worry beforehand about what you are to say; but say whatever is given you to say at that time, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit” (Mark 13:11). But to generalise from this provision to a whole theology of preaching and ministry is, I think, a mistake. For it is not the case that the relationship of God’s agency and ours is only ever one of competition. On the contrary, God’s normal way of acting in our lives is through our fully-engaged agency. “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil 2:13). The Holy Spirit does not only work when I get out of the way: he works through me, through my thought, study, ideas, effort, perseverance, and so on. What we must not do is to confuse the promise that the Spirit will help us in our weakness (cf. Rom 8:26) with the idea that the Spirit only works when we are not meaningfully active. As Spurgeon said, “If we can study and do not, if we can have a studious ministry and will not, we have no right to call in a divine agent to make up the deficits of our idleness or eccentricity… God forbid that we should offer to the Lord that which costs us nothing”. (Spurgeon’s entire lecture on “The Faculty of Impromptu Speech” is well worth reading on this topic.)

Plato’s explanation for Christendom

The title of this post is silly; but I found a comment of Plato’s in the Republic thought-provoking in relation to Christian political thought. After explaining to Glaucon the nature of the Good (or at least pointing in its direction), the relation human beings have to it, and how they can rise up to see it, by means of the analogies of the sun, the divided line, and the cave, Socrates moves to outlining the importance of these thoughts for politics. Rulers will only rule well when they do so reluctantly, as those torn away from something better:

There lies the point. You must contrive for your future rulers another and a better life than that of a ruler, and then you may have a well-ordered State; for only in the State which offers this, will they rule who are truly rich, not in silver and gold, but in virtue and wisdom, which are the true blessings of life. Whereas if they go to the administration of public affairs, poor and hungering after their own private advantage, thinking that hence they are to snatch the chief good, order there can never be; for they will be fighting about office, and the civil and domestic broils which thus arise will be the ruin of the rulers themselves and of the whole State. (Republic, 518)

The key to good government, says Socrates (Plato), is for rulers to not think too highly of their office, because they know something better besides it. This, I believe, is something Christian political thought is uniquely able to do: to radically relativise the honour and benefit attached to political authority in the light of something much better that a ruler may have as gift, along with everyone else, or not at all.