Why so little Jonah in the lectionary (Lectionary Reflections for Epiphany 3, Year B)

Posted on January 16, 2012 by djgrieser

Sometimes I wonder at what seems to be the perverse logic of the editors of the lectionary (can any of you explain it?). Why wouldn’t you include enough of the Book of Jonah to allow preachers and people to wrestle with it? There are exactly two Sundays when anything from Jonah is read–this week, and Proper 20, year A, when Jonah 3:10-4:11 is read.

I suppose there are biblical stories that are more familiar to most people than “Jonah and the Whale” but really, does anyone not know at least that Jonah was swallowed by a whale? It even received notice from Salon last week.

I suspect that lectionary’s focus on Jonah’s activity in Nineveh, and not on the events leading up to it, has to do with our squeamishness with the details of the story. Our overly literal minds tend to focus on the details that make it read like a tall tale. But that’s precisely what it is. I remember hearing one professor who had written a commentary on it describe it as an elaborate joke. More seriously, it stands as a critique of Hebrew prophecy, about which one could say more.

The story deserves our attention because it is well-written, memorable, and in its way, describes a very human, natural response to divine call. Of course, we are inclined to find a way to avoid God’s call. We do it every day, in small ways, when we turn away from those in need, or stay silent about the good news of Jesus Christ when the person with whom we are speaking clearly needs to experience the love of Christ. Rarely are we eaten by big fish, however.

There is a great deal of humor in Jonah–not just the opening drama of Jonah fleeing the call of God, being thrown overboard, swallowed up, and then ignominiously vomited up on land near Nineveh (check a map to see the likelihood of that happening). There is also Jonah’s prophetic message and the response of the Ninevites. There is also the response of Jonah, his settling in at a good spot to which Nineveh’s destruction, and the vine that protects him, being killed by a worm. It’s a great story and it preaches.

It preaches so well that there was a tradition in central and eastern Europe to build pulpits in the shape of a whale, so that the preacher was proclaiming out of the whale’s belly.

Loving Jesus, hating religion

Posted on January 15, 2012 by djgrieser

There’s a video making the rounds in which someone I’ve never heard of recites poetry about the contrast between (true) Jesus and (false) religion. It’s received publicity from Sojourners, among others.

Nadia Bolz-Weber’s response is here.

So…I believe in Religion AND Jesus. I believe in the Gospel. I believe in the transformative, knock you on your ass truth of what God has done in Christ. I believe that I can only know what this following Jesus thing is about when I learn it from people I would never choose out of a catalog when we all gather together as the broken and blessed Body of Christ around the Eucharistic meal. I believe that I am the problem at least as often as I am the solution. I believe in participating in sacred traditions that have a whole lot more integrity than anything I could come up with myself. I believe I need someone else to proclaim the forgiveness of sins to me because I cannot create that for myself. I believe that Jesus is truly present in the breaking of the bread and that where 2 or more are gathered he is there. That’s religion AND Jesus. May God make us worthy of it all.

Jonathan D. Fitzgerald is scathing in his response:

See the problem is, Bethke doesn’t mean religion either, but he’s rehearsing a popular evangelical trope, that the freedom that Christians find through Jesus is freedom from structure, organization, and authority. Of course, Bethke, like all Christians, is a member of a religion, he holds “a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs,” as Dictionary.com defines it. What Bethke is actually railing against is people whose expression of religion doesn’t look like he believes it should. Thus, rather than discounting religion, he is just discounting other religions, or even just other manifestations of his own religion.

Read it all: “Lame Poetry, False Dichotomies, Bad Theology.

My question, as someone with an academic background in theology–Haven’t we heard all this before? Remember Karl Barth? Of course, Barth’s critique of religion focused on its human origins, to which he contrasted the divine origin of the Word of God. On a lighter note, as Fitzgerald points out, this critique of religion is something of a trope in Evangelicalism. I would only add that the rise of nondenominational churches is in itself a product of the Evangelical critique of religion.

Update on the Porchlight fire and the response from St. Francis House

Posted on January 15, 2012 by djgrieser

Here’s today’s article from the Wisconsin State Journal.

Here’s the letter my colleague Andy Jones wrote to Madison’s Common Council yesterday.

In fact, it looks like we will be welcoming the Porchlight residents tomorrow. Porchlight, Madison Property Management, and our staff scrambled today to get the space ready and deal with security issues. The WSJ has info on how to donate money and items to those in need.

Whew! Another day in the life of a (well, two) priests

Posted on January 14, 2012 by djgrieser

I woke up this morning looking forward to a leisure-filled day. I don’t have to prepare a sermon for tomorrow so I thought I might work on a couple of projects around the house, do some reading, and maybe watch some football or a movie.

Then I read about the fire at Porchlight’s facility on Brooks St. last night. I thought about calling Steve Schooler to see if there was anything I could do, but I figured he would be inundated with phone calls of all sorts and having to deal with the crisis. I thought of the woman who I had just written a check for downpayment for an apartment in one of Porchlight’s facilities, and wondered if she was affected. I thought about St. Francis House, the immediate neighbor to the north of the Brooks St. building and whether we could do anything. Then my attention turned elsewhere.

Around 11:00, I got a call from my colleague, Andy Jones. He had just received a call from Steve Silverberg of LZ Ventures who were scheduled to take over St. Francis House for the redevelopment project that I’ve mentioned before on this blog. They volunteered to delay the handover so that Porchlight could use St. Francis House to house residents displaced by the fire. Bishop Miller approved the offer, and the board was polled via email.

Meanwhile, I was deputized to contact Porchlight because of my working relationship with them. I phoned Steve Schooler and drove over to St. Francis to show them the building. We discussed logistics and what not. They have found space for six of the residents in Porchlight facilities, but ten were still homeless. All sixteen have lost all of their possessions. We’ve been working on vacating St. Francis House for the redevelopment and the move, so much of the lower level of the building is in a mess, to put it mildly. I also made a call to the pastor of Luther Memorial Church, another neighbor of ours, to let us know what we had in mind.

I went home, began planning those projects, and drove off to Home Depot to buy some things I needed. In the parking lot, I got another call from Andy, letting me know that Madison Property Management has volunteered to help in any way with getting the space ready for occupancy, including staff to clean, and furniture.

Now that’s ministry. I don’t get those projects done today, however.

Theology and the NFL

Posted on January 13, 2012 by djgrieser

Of course, there have been countless articles written about Tim Tebow and Christianity. But only one includes the following:

(Since theology plays such a large role in these playoffs, Foster is worth a brief digression. He was not, unfortunately, named after Arius, founder of Arianism, the most important Christian heresy: If he had been, he and Tebow would have been on opposite sides of the Christological questions debated at the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. But their trademark poses do constitute a theological throw-down. Tebow’s famous “Thinker” pose is a prayerful Christian attitude. By contrast, the little bow that Foster takes after scoring is derived from eastern religions. “It’s a Hindu greeting that means ‘I see the God in you,’” Foster said. “It’s a Namaste. It means respect. It’s me paying my respect to the game of football.” Unfortunately, since their teams are both in the AFC, the world will not be able to witness the clash of religious gestures that would take place if Tebow and Foster scored in the same game.)

Read it all here.

For the perspective of a scholar of religion on the Tebow phenomenon, including mentions of Mircea Eliade (the Religious Studies equivalent of Vince Lombardi or George Halas), read this.

Why should there be an Episcopal Church?

Posted on January 13, 2012 by djgrieser

Why should there be an Episcopal Church? Why should there be any particular denomination? Is there something vital, authentically bearing witness to the good news of Jesus Christ in our fractured denominationalism? I remember a Roman Catholic professor and friend once saying that if he were in the business of creating a church, he would have the liturgy of the Roman Catholics, the theology of the Lutherans, and the polity of the Presbyterians. As a historian, I see the denominations as products of particular historical contexts, but also seeking to embody and preserve the truth of the gospel in those historical contexts, and deserving of survival and health insofar as they continue to bear witness to the good news of Jesus Christ in their particular forms.

After nearly two weeks of discussion around the Episco-web, we’ve finally come to the core question. On the surface, it may seem rather self-centered. After all, the Episcopal Church was not founded by Jesus Christ (the Roman Catholics make this claim, “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church;” the Orthodox also make the claim). We cannot. We were founded in the new United States by a group of Christians who found themselves alienated from their spiritual roots in the Church of England, yet desirous of rooting new shoots of that tradition in the soil of American democracy.

We can claim the marks of the true Church–for the Protestant Reformation it was “where the Word of God is truly preached and the sacraments rightly administered.”

We can also make claims to apostolic succession, although I would ask whether that is an ex post facto defense of authenticity and catholicity, rather than being central to the Anglican tradition (Richard Hooker, for one, thought that matters of church organization like the episcopacy were not central to the faith).

So what are we left with? Comments on facebook and the Episcopal Cafe focus on what makes the Episcopal Church, or Anglicanism, distinctive. And many of the comments stress liturgy, the Book of Common Prayer, the three-legged stool. What these comments point to is an Anglican (or Episcopal) ethos. It may be that in this case it is better to use Episcopal than Anglican, for there are unique elements in the Episcopal Church that help to explain some of the current conflicts we have with other Anglicans–namely, our mixed governance that includes laity as well as clergy in the decision-making process, the election of bishops, et al.

What is the Episcopal ethos? In a word, Anglicanism shaped by its American context. And that is decisive. I’m not flag-waving here. Rather, I want to point to the things that would prevent me from ever becoming Roman Catholic: papal supremacy, clerical celibacy, and the all-male priesthood. Those are symbols of something else, an understanding of authority and the nature of the church that is deeply problematic in the twenty-first century: centralization and hierarchy, sexism, and a lengthy historical development that have created the papacy in existence today. It did not always look like this; it did not always assert primacy, nor infallibility.

It’s interesting that a Mennonite convert to Roman Catholicism blogged today about her discomfort with the “Roman” piece of her Catholicism. But I do think that in the US, many of the challenges Roman Catholicism faces have to do with the American context and culture.

I believe deeply that the Episcopal Church as Episcopal bears truthful witness to Christianity–in its openness to intellectual inquiry, in the beauty of our worship, and in the way we try to be the body of Christ–with bishops, priests, deacons, and lay people, all commissioned ministers of Christ.

Are there other Christian traditions that bear truthful witness to Christ? Of course, and many of them have their unique charismata. In fact, one of the stumbling blocks that delayed my becoming Episcopalian was that I believed the denomination in which I was raised and baptized, the Anabaptist-Mennonite tradition, is a powerful, prophetic witness to other Christian communities, including Anglicanism.

Are the things which make the Episcopal Church unique available in other denominations (or in non-denominational congregations)? Many of them, yes, but not in the particular combination and with the unique history that has made us who we are. Will the Episcopal Church, will Anglicanism survive until the Parousia? I have no idea, and I don’t really care. What matters to me is that it is the place in which I can express my faith, and experience Jesus Christ, and that I believe others can do so as well. So long as that latter statement is true, the Episcopal Church, or the Episcopal ethos in so form, should survive, indeed continue to thrive. It is when we no longer bear witness to the continued vitality of that historical manifestation of the good news, that there is no reason for us to exist.

What’s non-negotiable? Love of God and of Neighbor

Posted on January 11, 2012 by djgrieser

The ongoing debate at Episcopal Cafe about the future of the Episcopal, couched in terms either of “What’s up for grabs?” or “What’s non-negotiable?” continues to generate thoughtful responses. Here’s one from Derek Olsen in which he argues that the Book of Common Prayer 1979 is one of those non-negotiables. He means not the book itself, of course, but the liturgy and spirituality that are laid out in it: the centrality of the Eucharist and the Daily Office.

Of course, for many the BCP has been up for grabs, tinkered with in efforts to be more culturally or theologically relevant, or to compete with the multimedia extravaganzas of the megachurches.

Olson says something else of great interest to me. He says that a primary goal of liturgical spirituality is “a disciplined recollection of God,” that parishes have a responsibility to be a witness to that recollection both to the larger world, and to its members:

Are we forming communities that embody the love of God and neighbor in concrete actions? Not just in what programs the institution is supporting, but are we feeding regular lives with a spirituality that not only sustains them but leads them into God’s work in a thousand different contexts in no way related to a church structure? Are our parishes witnessing to their members and to the wider community in their acts of corporate prayer for the whole even when the whole cannot be physically there?

I was struck by what he said as I reflected on two phone calls that came into the church this afternoon within a few minutes of each other. Both were from non-members. One came from a woman who belonged to a congregation from another denomination but knew about our work with the homeless and wanted to make regular contributions to support that work.

The other came from a woman who called ostensibly to find out why no Madison Episcopal churches had service times listed in the Saturday newspaper. I explained that all of us thought our limited publicity budgets could better spent elsewhere. I then asked about her. It turns out she too is a member of another mainline denomination, but finds their worship becoming “too folksy” for her taste. I encouraged her to visit us.

What’s non-negotiable? Beautiful worship that allows people to experience God–to love God; and active outreach, sharing God’s love with those around us.

They didn’t ask me!

Posted on January 10, 2012 by djgrieser

Results of a survey done by the Southern Baptist Convention:

When asked if “God used evolution to create people,” 73% of pastors disagreed – 64% said they strongly disagreed – compared to 12% who said they agree.

Asked whether the earth is approximately 6,000 years old, 46% agreed, compared to 43% who disagreed.

Scary stuff!

Football and Religion: Or, the Religion of Football

Posted on January 9, 2012 by djgrieser

I grew up in small town Ohio. Football in the seventies was not an industry. Basketball was still more important. I played in the marching band, cheered on my high school team, though it wasn’t particularly successful. Basketball mattered more, so much in fact, that the traditional rivalry with the closest town had to be suspended in 1968 because passions ran so high. We didn’t pray before games; I don’t think anyone believed that God cared whether Archbold or Pettisville won the game, no matter how much it mattered to us.

I’ve probably posted about this before, because over the years I have become less and less interested in sports contests. Yes, in part it was because I found myself teaching at colleges that had athletic programs. And at those institutions, the values always seemed skewed. For example, one year, members of the volleyball team couldn’t make it to the first class of the term because of an away game (I’ve actually been surprised by my wife’s experience teaching at UW Madison with starting players from the football team in her class).

But the whole Tebow thing takes it to another level. No, God does not care who wins a football game. As the prophet Amos makes clear:

I hate, I despise your festivals,
and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.
Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings,
I will not accept them;
and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals
I will not look upon.
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Let’s face it. An NFL game, or a college bowl game, is as close to a festival as we get in the USA.

It’s pathetic that identification as a Christian seems now to be connected with a mediocre quarterback who makes ostentatious display of his piety:

‘And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

The Great Awakening: if only