Scot McKnight: November 2005 Archives

On a previous post I gave an outline of why I think the pacifist case deserves more hearing; it was hard to read, as some of you commented, because it was an outline and a series of questions. Someday I'll fill it in. Last night I got home from LA to find this long comment on that post by Karen Spears Zacharias, whose book (Hero Mama) I have urged on others to read, and it is worth putting here:

Scot:
I have just returned from the Miami Book Fair and am taking the time to catch up on the blog posts. I knew the question of when is sacrifice worth it would be asked. Miami is a city filled with folks who value freedom in a passionate way. Freedoms they exercise. They read. They vote. And they think for themselves. Living under Castro as they did and as their families still do, they believe that freedom is something worth fighting for. So I was anticipating the remark of one Cuban man: "Sorry for your father's death. But when do you think such a sacrifice is worth it? Or do you?"
Sitting next to me was my friend and fellow author Mirta Ojito, author of Findina Manana, an excellent book about her family's move to the US during the 1980s boatlift. I know how precious Mirta's freedom is to her. She was rescued from the waters by a Vietnam veteran. So that binds us even more.
But my answer was this: "Is it freedom if it is forced upon you? Doesn't freedom have to be something you yourself are willing to die for?"
And of course the bigger issue is this: The war in Iraq was never about freedom.
It was sold to this nation on the basis of fear. We went to war because we were told that there were weapons of mass destruction that Saddam intended to use against us.That morphed into revenge for 9-11. When that water pail began to leak, then, and only then did the rhetoric take on this chest-beating bravado of providing freedom for all people. On Veterans Day I heard a mother of a soldier killed in action state that we have a moral obligation to bring freedom to all the oppressed people in the world. Well, where do we start? The streets of LA, Chicago, or the Sudan? What about China? And there's still all those people in Cuba. We don't have the manpower to take on every dictator. So where does our obligation end? And what sort of freedom do we owe others? Financial? Physical? Emotional? Spiritual?
As the daughter of a soldier killed in action, I can't help but consider that while my father was out reportedly "freeing" the Vietnamese, his sacrifice propelled our family into a bondage that we could not escape without the Grace of God.
I read yesterday that the actor Bruce Willis intends to make a movie that will glorify the sacrifices of the Deuce Four unit in Iraq. I met Willis last month at the Deuce Four Military Ball in Tacoma. My nephew, David, named for my father, was part of that unit. They just returned from Mosul. I gave Willis a copy of HERO MAMA in hopes that he would read it and consider the cost of war on a family. Instead of reading something that might change his chestbeating war cries, Willis will make a movie that continues to perpetuate the myth that war is about men on the battlefield. When in truth, the real war takes place behind closed doors in America's suburbs as spouses and children struggle to cope with their grief and war's choatic aftermath.
We must remember that true and undefiled religion is to care for widows and children during their time of distress. That doesn't mean the first six weeks. That means the years of loneliness and hardship that always follows a soldier's death.
My friend Destre lost his father when he was 5. Destre sums it up this way: You think it's only one person dying but if that person is part of your family, it's really frustrating.
I'm not willing to say a soldier's death is never worth the cost. But I am saying that this war in Iraq, like the one in Vietnam, was ill-conceived, and a shameful, immoral war. That doesn't diminsh the value of the soldiers who have given their lives and limbs. They answered a call to duty with honor and devotion. But the question remains whether that call should have ever been placed.
Karen

Christ Plays 2 (pp. 49-84)

This mega-blog with pastors and friends, and anyone else who wants to speak up, is about E. Peterson’s new book, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, and we are doing about 30 pages a week. This week’s reading is from the chapter “Christ Plays in Creation” and we are taking a big chunk of that chapter. I am summarizing the material and inviting others to reflect on the reading – but anyone who’d like to respond is welcome. I might add that it is rare that we are treated to a pastor-scholar, like Peterson, who brings his entire ministry and theology to fruition in a five-volume series on spiritual theology.

A major idea in this section is that the spiritual life is a life in this world. It is not simply a life for heaven, but also a life for now.

Thus, the kerygma is Jesus’ birth – that is, God reveals himself most completely in a human, living person named Jesus. “If you want to look at creation full, creation at its highest, you look at a person – a man, a woman, a child” (53).

The threat to the gospel is Gnosticism – a term Peterson will use often enough for the attempt to flee life as it is for a life that is not, or for a life where we’d like it to be what we’d like it to be. “The feature attraction is that we no longer have to take seriously … either things or people” (60).

Peterson’s introduction to Christ and the spiritual life in creation is grounded in two texts: Genesis 1—2 and the Gospel of John (St. John).

The grounding text is Genesis 1—2 and I think Peterson’s section here is brilliant (pp. 62-84). First, creation now: this is not just about the past but about now. Peterson asks this: “How can I get in on this [creating work of God]?” (64)

Creation involves time (Gen 1): he is at his best in discussing rhythms of time. Time is a gift of God in which we presently participate – the end time is not a future but the fullness of time now (67). We are created to live rhythmically in the rhythmical times of God.

Creation involves place (Gen 2): all living is local; we are called to our place. Utopia is a “no-place” but we are called to an actual place. Sometimes we are tempted to go to another place where things will be better. Peterson pulls out a wonderful story of Gregory of Nyssa who labored in Nyssa (ever hear of it?) – and he has this quotation: “His brother told him that he didn’t want Gregory to obtain distinction from his church but rather to confer distinction upon it” (74). How many of us need to hear that?

“Theology divorced from geography gets us into nothing but trouble” (77). God placed “humans” in the place he made: Eden.

He also develops the idea of freedom and necessity and the “enormous dignity” of being human in a place. Our freedom is constrained by our place (necessity). We negotiate between the two as limited constrained humans.

And there is intimacy in this place for humans: Adam and Eve.

Christmas meant that Joseph learned that sometimes God surprises (1:20-21)

I doubt that many think of Joseph when, this Christmas, they give to their loved ones a “good surprise” at Christmas. We’ve all had our share of presents that were both surprises and generally unwelcomed ones. The best presents, of course, are both surprises and “just what we wanted.” The joy of it all rolls out in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

But, perhaps the biggest surprise of them all – both surprising and generally unwelcomed, was the news Joseph got: your girlfriend is pregnant, you are not the father, and you are to marry her, and in so doing you’ll lose your reputation as a tsadiq. But, this is what God wants for you, for Mary, and for the baby – and for the world. So hang on, this will be a wild ride for about 35 years. Imagine that as the gift under your tree!

The surprise, of course, which no one will receive as true, is that Mary is pregnant from the Holy Spirit – I call this the Big Fat Jewish Miracle Wedding Story. Mary knew it was true; Elizabeth, too. Joseph simply didn’t buy it – and it took some angelic manifestation for him to be convinced.

I imagine this conversation with Joseph and the angel:

A: God has sent me to tell you to marry Mary anyway.
J: No way.
A: Yes way.
J: No way.
A: Why not?
J: God says not to. I’m obedient.
A: God told me to tell you to disregard what you know and marry her anyway.
J: No way.
A: Why?
J: God says this in the Bible.
A: Times are changing, Joseph. I suggest you marry her.
J: OK. (But, tell God this is strange.)
A: He knows, I’m sure.

There is some deep irony here: Joseph thinks Mary (or someone else) has sinned; he chooses to divorce her so as not to sin; and God says that this baby, this little mamzer (Hebrew for an illegitimate child), will “save his people from their sins.”

Talk about irony: the one who others thought was born in sin will now be a sin-ending Savior.

If you are going to spend some money on a Christmas present, I reason to myself, you might as well spend it on something that will last. So, I suggest a fountain pen if you are so inclined:

1. Waterman Charleston: a nice solid barrel with a good nib. This is my travel pen. Good entry pen.
2. Pelikan 400 Fountain pen: Pelikan may well make the nicest fountain pens; flexible nib. They sell this same style of pen in different sizes (600, 800, 1000).
3. Mark Twain replica fountain pen: it is a bit clumsy, and it is a bit large, but this pen makes me feel like a 19th Century writer when I use it.
4. Conway Stewart: I have the "heather" pen with a lever fill; it is delightful and light.
5. Vincent Van Gogh: this is large but elegant pen with a full stroke nib.

Christmas meant that Joseph practiced a rare combination: both righteousness and mercifulness (1:19)

The text says Joseph was “righteous.” Now this translates a Greek term (dikaios) which translates a Hebrew term (tsadiq) – and all these terms point to one thing: Joseph was known for doing whatever the Torah said. To do it, he had to know it. So, he was a man who had studied the Torah – either by listening and memorizing or by reading and memorizing. But, he knew it.

And that means he knew that he could take Mary to court for what was now known: she was pregnant, and Joseph knows that he is not the father. He immediately thought of the laws in Deuteronomy 22 – stone both the seducer and the one seduced or stone the rapist – the laws are clear and they are unavoidably clear. Here's the text and its rulings that he would have known -- and I'm asking that you read this carefully because following this text is exactly what Joseph would have equated with doing God's will.

Deut. 22:23 If there is a young woman, a virgin already engaged to be married, and a man meets her in the town and lies with her, 24 you shall bring both of them to the gate of that town and stone them to death, the young woman because she did not cry for help in the town and the man because he violated his neighbor’s wife. So you shall purge the evil from your midst. Deut. 22:25 But if the man meets the engaged woman in the open country, and the man seizes her and lies with her, then only the man who lay with her shall die. 26 You shall do nothing to the young woman; the young woman has not committed an offense punishable by death, because this case is like that of someone who attacks and murders a neighbor. 27 Since he found her in the open country, the engaged woman may have cried for help, but there was no one to rescue her. Deut. 22:28 If a man meets a virgin who is not engaged, and seizes her and lies with her, and they are caught in the act, 29 the man who lay with her shall give fifty shekels of silver to the young woman’s father, and she shall become his wife. Because he violated her he shall not be permitted to divorce her as long as he lives. Deut. 22:30 A man shall not marry his father’s wife, thereby violating his father’s rights.

Joseph is a tsadiq (I make much of this in Jesus Creed). This means his reputation is at stake: if he follows the Torah, and puts Mary away, he will uphold his reputation. If he does not, he will lose his reputation. (I like to say that the claims of the Cross were faced by Joseph [and Mary] before Jesus was born.)

Joseph, however, chooses another option – an option that must have set the agenda for Jesus learning how to respond to those stuck on the horns of a legal ruling that called for mercy. Joseph decides to put her away quietly – that is, instead of disgracing her (which he could have done) he chooses to be kind to her by divorcing her without publicly disgracing her.

Joseph must have impressed the same upon Jesus and the rest of his family: act in mercy; avoid humiliating others; you never know, you may be wrong in your discernments and judgments. [I wish I had some of this in Jesus Creed.]