March 2007 Archives

We'll be in Sterling Virginia at St. Matthew's Church with my former students -- Rob and Linda Merola -- April 14-15.

Shaun Turner's got a piece worth reading that interacts with Peter Rollins.

A pastor of people's pastoral letter.

Congrats to Wick! A former student and an erstwhile golf companion. (Ask him if he beat me.)

Two new blogs: Henriet's and Tamara's.

Ted on trinitarian love.

This summer's L'Abri event in Oregon July 26-29. (HT: Boomchuck)

If you have ideas on helping women get connected in ministries, I suggest a conversation at Ben Dubow's blog.

We're happy to link to those who'd like to have listeners for their recordings ... so here's a song by Mark Heath and his wife.

1. Wikipedia revamped. A new, more reliable version will be named Citizendium.
2. This lady and I have something in common: we both wear Crocs.
3. What ... leave Florida for Kentucky?
4. Bob Gundry weighs in on the tomb and bones of Jesus.
5. The Pope affirms heaven and hell.
6. Would Jesus smack children? (In New Zealand especially.)
7. Good post on "mediated discipleship."
8. The Dusty Cover bookstore -- send Jamie your books. I've got a box of books sitting in my office to send him. (I'll get to it Jamie. Sorry.)
9. John Stackhouse on Wilberforce as a leftist.
10. Congrats to Emily Johnson. (And RJ Snell)

Sports:

Brad Grinnen blogs about Dan Shaunessy's "fake blog" about Curt Schilling's real blog. To which I add: "he who writes the story controls the glory."

Both Prior and Wood are down for the count as they recover... but the good news is the news that we're good enough without them. You really must believe in the resurrection to be a Cubs fan.

Thomas Boswell, simply the best baseball writer in American history, got it right when he said this: "All baseball fans can be divided into two groups: those who come to batting practice and the others. Only those in the first category have much chance of amounting to anything."

"Cheating is baseball's oldest profession. No other game is so rich in skulduggery, so suited to it or so proud of it."

"Several rules of stadium building should be carved on every owner's forehead. Old, if properly refurbished, is always better than new. Smaller is better than bigger. Open is better than closed. Near beats far. Silent visual effects are better than loud ones. Eye pollution hurts attendance. Inside should look as good as outside. Domed stadiums are criminal."

Think Wrigley. Think the homerdome in Minneapolis. I rest my case. There is no stadium like Wrigley. Full stop. Don't even get me started about Boston or Y-nk-- Stadium.

Any study of the disciplines that shape Christian community eventually comes face to face with forgiveness, and Darryl Tippens, Pilgrim Heart, turns to this theme in chp. 9. I remind readers that we touched on forgiveness and memory when we looked for weeks at Miroslav Volf's The End of Memory; Tippens gets us there once again. The theme must remain central to any understanding of the community disciplines of our faith.

The chp is called "Forgiving: The Love that Travels Farther."

We are back to the same question: How might we learn to forgive more? Are we ready to be the genesis of forgiveness in our world?

Tippens opens up with stories of those who were about to die, at the hands treachery, but who publicly declared their forgiveness of perpetrators. "The reciprocal giving and receiving of forgiveness is one of the central features of the Christian faith, surely one of the most challenging, kenotic [self-sacrificing] dimensions of our faith" (115).

Ira Byock, a physician who spent his life caring for dying patients, said there are four things that matter most: Please forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. And, I love you.

"Forgiveness may be the one miracle that we can experience daily, if we are but willing to risk our pride and renounce our need to be 'right'."

Forgiveness begins with God; we see it visibly in contemplating the cross; it can only be comprehended in light of the last chapter of our life; and we are challenged to absolve even ourselves (self-forgiveness).

"Vengeance never settles the matter. The Gospel way can, however, end the cycle of violence.... [forgiveness] is conterintuitive and 'against our nature'."

I gave two talks in Seattle, but I want to summarize what I said in my talk on Saturday. My talk was about "mistakes missional gospel folks need to avoid."

What is the gospel? I gave a little summary of the "Lukan thread" -- Mary's Magnificat and Zechariah's Benedictus and Jesus' inaugural sermon (Luke 1 and Luke 4) -- then I suggested a few mistakes we need to avoid:

1. Avoid beginning with the story of the Fall; begin with humans as Eikons in Genesis 1 before we get to the "cracked Eikons" of Genesis 3.

2. Avoid skipping from Genesis 3 to Romans 3: the story of covenant, Israel, and Law are inherent to the story of God.

3. Avoid thinking all problems are solved on Good Friday: we need the life of Jesus, the death of Jesus, the resurrection of Jesus, and the gift of the Holy Spirit to resolve the problem of the "cracked Eikon."

4. Avoid defining sin as merely guilt for offending law; sin is rebellion against God manifested in four directions -- against God, self, others, and the external world.

5. Avoid thinking convincing of guilt comes before casting the kingdom vision of Jesus.

6. Avoid rooting the gospel in a God of anger and wrath instead of rooting the gospel in the perichoretic Trinitarian God who seeks to draw us into that dance.

7. Avoid resolving the problem in one direction -- with God -- instead of resolving the problem in all four directions.

The last verse of Psalm 119, which marks the end of this series, surprises:

I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek out your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments (119:176).

For the first time in the entire psalm -- that I recall -- the psalmist admits that he's messed up. Or does he? Samson Raphael Hirsch, a rabbinic commentator, translates like this: "If I have strayed." Not "I have gone astray" but if I have strayed.

Even if we make the last verse conditional, the central themes continue to emerge: "seek out your servant, for I do not forget your commandments." Seek me out God -- the psalmist seems to be saying -- when I wander away. Why? Because, even if I wander, I have not intended to wander.

Perhaps there's a better explanation: perhaps the wandering is not moral but geographical -- that is, I've gotten myself caught in the middle of those who deny your Torah. Find me, God, and deliver me. Why? Because I've been faithful.