Church and State: Playing with Fire

Whenever the church becomes engaged with the state, we are quite literally playing with fire. In fact, whenever the church has become significantly involved with the state, we have later had to repent of that position. A few examples will suffice:

1. The German Lutheran church�s endorsement of Hitler, including the placing of Nazi flags in sanctuaries � often more prominently than the cross was placed � and the swearing of oaths to Hitler during services.
   
2. Christian engagement with secular government during the Civil Rights era, in which white churches specifically endorsed the oppression of black people as a legitimate expression of government.
   
3. The execution of thousands of Anabaptist martyrs during the 16th century for teaching that one could only baptized as a believer by immersion. This execution came about, through civil authority and by endorsement of Calvinist, Lutheran, and Catholic churches, because the rite of baptism had become a civic cermony.
   
4. The crusades, in which the religious desire to control the Holy Land was wed to the desire of younger sons of European nobility and the idea of the �Holy Roman Empire� to endorse wars of pure aggression, the sacking of the Christian Constantinople, and the wanton repression of Palestinian Christians.
   
5. The institution of the Inquisition.
   
6. Witch trials, which were often political or financially motivated.
   

Simply put, in every case where the church has endorsed civil government, the church has regretted it. In contrast, many of the most inspiring stories of �church done right� have come not when the church has supported civil government, but as the church has either ignored government or stood in a prophetically objective stance towards it. Consider the battle to end slavery, or the massively successful evangelization of the first, second and third centuries.

I bring up the above not as an argument, but to emphasize just how important it is that we answer fully the question of Christian engagement with civil government. I do not overemphasize when I say that our answer to this question will define our whole conception of what it means to be the church, and will radically redefine our Christian message. So, I hope that you will humor me as I explore this question a bit more deeply, with the goal of establishing a principled, Christian stance towards government today. There are three specific scriptural issues I�d like to look at: Romans 13:1-7, 1Timothy 2:1-4, and most importantly what I call the �symbolic world� of scripture.

Romans 13 is the text which would apparently seem to endorse the popular, evangelical position. However, careful analysis of this scripture shows that it does not. The key section is:

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God�s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God�s wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God�s wrath but also for the sake of conscience. For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed. (Romans 13.1-7, ESV)

What is Paul talking about here? He is saying, simply, that we should be subject to the governing authorities. This is a passive subjection: especially since the Christians to whom Paul wrote were unlikely to have any real ability to affect government. The passivity of subjection is reinforced in verse 2: Paul derides those who �resist� established authorities, not those who fail to support them actively, and it is upon those who actively resist authority that God�s judgment is called. In verses 4, Paul even endorses government as �an avenger who carries out God�s wrath on the wrongdoer�. However, Paul�s application of this point to his readers in verses 5-7 is again passive: we are to remain passively in subjection, paying the taxes that are demanded of us and even honoring them. There is not in this text the slightest indication that we should lend the active support of the church to the civil authorities, or that we should participate in the work of government actively. Instead, our role with respect to government is always passive.

The closest the New Testament comes to active support of governing authorities is the following text:

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all, which is the testimony given at the proper time. (1 Tim 2:1-6, ESV)

This is the source of the popular argument that we should pray for ruling authorities. However, I think that if we leave this text here, we miss two important questions. The first is, Why do we pray for them? The answer Paul gives is �that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life� and this is good because it pleases God, who �desires all people to be saved.� The second question is, What do we pray for our rulers? The answer is given clearly by why we pray: we pray that they may come to �knowledge of truth�, and become Christians. Such an exegesis makes little sense in our cultural context, especially when Bush is outwardly so Christian. (On an aside, I think Bush is a sincere Christian, and have even come to like him. However, I think that he has placed himself in a compromised position by taking on the role of civil governance, and I think he is getting some horrible theological advice.) However, in the thought-world of the first century, this was quite a hope: the government in the provinces ran its own religion � the imperial cult declaring the head of state to be God � and was actively persecuting Christians from the early sixties on. This is no doubt why, in verses 5 and 6, Paul declares �there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and man.� Rather than supporting government unequivocally, this text prays that the governors might become Christian � presumably so they will stop killing Christians and Christians can have that �peaceful and quiet life� Paul mentions! It certainly does not call for us to actively pray for government to have success in its current agenda whatever that agenda might be � instead, it calls for the subversion of the government�s current agenda by the conversion of its agents to a better agenda.

The difference in thought world between the first century and today that obscured the preceding passage is what makes it important that we move beyond proof texts and do a more comprehensive analysis of scripture as a whole on this topic. Both the passages above seem to relate to government in opposition to a default of hostility. Where does that default come from? The first answer, historically, is that it comes from government persecution of Christians starting with the execution of Jesus. However, it also comes from a far deeper place within the symbolic world of scripture.

It is unquestionable that, when Jesus came, he proclaimed the kingdom of God. However, there has been much debate about what precisely he meant by that. Often, we have �spiritualized� Jesus� kingship to such a degree that it could never present any conflict with secular authority. However, at its most basic level, the proclamation of the kingdom was a very subversive political claim. The story of the kingdom of God in scripture begins, perversely, with its abrogation. The Israelites fundamentally abandoned the kingship of God when they asked for a secular king:

And he [Samuel] said to the people of Israel, �Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, �I brought up Israel out of Egypt, and I delivered you from the hand of the Egyptians and from the hand of all the kingdoms that were oppressing you.� But today you have rejected your God, who saves you from all your calamities and your distresses, and you have said to him, �Set a king over us.�� (1Samuel 10:18-19)

It is also to be recalled that God promised that this king would pretty much make the Israelites miserable � and that their having asked for a king other than God himself was regarded as an enormous sin (1Samuel 12). Over the years that followed, they lived to regret it. Even the best of Israel�s kings could not protect her as God had, and most of them were not worth much. The story of Saul and David is not in point here, however when we get to the time of the captivity, we see that Israel is again and again criticized for trying to fight her own battle through secular battles and alliances with secular kingdoms. For example, Israel is criticized for an attempted alliance with Egypt:

Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help

	and rely on horses,

	who trust in chariots because they are many

		and in horsemen because they are very strong,

	but do not look to the Holy One of Israel

		or consult the LORD! 

	And yet he is wise and brings disaster;

	 he does not call back his words,

	but will arise against the house of the evildoers

		and against the helpers of those who work iniquity. 

The Egyptians are man, and not God,

		and their horses are flesh, and not spirit.

	When the LORD stretches out his hand,

		the helper will stumble, and he who is helped will fall,

		and they will all perish together. (Isaiah 31:1-3)

It is in the context of this worldliness that Isaiah promises the messiah. The promise of the messiah is that God will someday come and restore himself as king of Israel, while at the same time restoring the Davidic monarchy. This is why it was so important to Matthew, Paul, and even Luke that Jesus be a descendant of David: because his task as the anointed one was to restore the Kingdom of God as a successor to the Davidic monarchy.

With the fall of Jerusalem in 586, the Jews began eagerly awaiting the messiah. No surprise there � nor will most find any disagreement with the idea that the Jewish people expected primarily a political messiah. In fact, the quest for purely political salvation became something of an obsession for the Jews, and it was in this quest that overbearing legalism of the Pharisees was founded. Pharisees came to believe that, if Israel truly adhered to God�s law, God would bring about the political redemption of Israel from the various overlords who dominated Israel over the years. Since God kept not coming, they kept adding rules until he did.

Despite all this effort, they never did get their political savior: Jesus refused to engage in the rhetoric of political revolution. In fact, he seems to have regarded politics as irrelevant. Instead, what was important was the kingdom of God, which was by itself sufficient to answer the problems of Israel. However, just as much as Jesus failed to model political revolution against secular authorities, he failed to model political engagement in support of the current, secular authorities. Jesus� model, like Paul�s, was one of passive subjection. For example, look at John 18:35, where Jesus stands before Pilate:

�My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.� (John 18.36)

The claim against Jesus was specifically that he was a political revolutionary � that he claimed to be a king. When Jesus says the words above, Pilate responds �so you are a king?� Rather than arguing, Jesus evades. The kingdom is not about active resistance to government.

However, it would be a mistake to say that Jesus made no political claim. The New Testament is full of language that places Jesus in direct opposition to the kingly claims of Caesar. Jesus was not the first to be called �Lord and Savior, son of God� � Augustus was. Throughout the New Testament, this claim is opposed to the claims of Caesar in explicitly political terms: �But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ� (Philippians 3:20). In the context of Caesars lauded as Lords and Saviors, this text seems almost to say that we await the true Savior � rather than the bogus, false and pretentious claims of earthly kings. And, it is also implied that, while we can submit to these kings in earthly things, we must resist their claims to true significance.

Instead, true significance is found in the things of heaven. While we have earthly needs, we must �seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,� and trust God to meet those needs (Matthew 6:33). We can �give Caesar that which is Caesar�s� (Matthew 22:21), since money doesn�t matter anyway, but our true allegiance, our true loyalty, and our true affections belong to God and his kingdom, which is not of this world. We must focus in on those higher allegiances, giving them our heart, our passions, our time, and only giving the bare minimum required of us to civil government. In the New Testament, there is not the slightest indication that we are entitled, required, or even allowed to give civil government our active support.

All of this background, I think, allows us to say three things about the kingdom of God in New Testament thought:

1. The kingdom is political, but not in the usual sense of the word.


2. The kingdom creates, by its very non-political nature, a crisis of significance for civil government.


3. Insofar as we give our active allegiance to the kingdom of God, we have no place providing active support for civil government.

In particular, these conclusions dovetail nicely with the two proof texts addressed above: our participation in civil government is passive, and we pray not that civil government will be successful, but that it will be subverted by the gospel. (For more on this subject, and especially a detailed development of the political claims of Jesus in Paul�s thought, take a look at http://www.ctinquiry.org/publications/wright.htm.) This leads to three conclusions.

First, I think we must say, with Paul, that the governing authorities are established by God. Further, we must say that they are used by him for the ultimate good. However, this does not make everything they do �good�. Instead, they may serve a function similar to that served by the Babylonians during the captivity � they are agents of God�s wrath, serving his purpose in building his covenant people, and under whom God�s chosen people are kept in captivity � but they are not God�s people. Instead, they are, in general, outsiders opposed to the kingdom of God whose actions God is subverting to the purposes of the kingdom. This is the most positive thing we can say about the actions of civil government as a hard and fast rule � they are placed by God, but they are not of God, they are evil, but God uses them for good. If we try to endorse them in the expansive sense taken by many evangelicals today, then we end up endorsing (and thereby taking the blame for) all the evil government has ever done. In fact, the Church Universal would become an accomplice in Iraq�s evil as Iraqi Christians blindly defended Saddam just as American Christians blindly defended Bush. Instead, we should simply acknowledge their authority and move on. They are not our problem � they are the problem of the sovereign God.

Second, we must uphold our loyalty to the kingdom of God as an alternative to the kingdoms of this world. We do this, simply, by proclaiming the lordship of Jesus as the true king at all times, in all places, and in all ways. However, we also do this by refusing to plunge ourselves into the work of civil government: we have our own agenda, the agenda of the kingdom, and we must serve that agenda.

Third, we must refrain from endorsing the actions of civil government or declaring our allegiance. The reason why not is obvious: imagine an Israelite who actively endorsed Pilate�s placing of Roman standards in the temple. Such an Israelite would be one who had abandoned Israel�s vocation to be a people set apart and had become just another Roman subject. Jesus did not endorse such Jews, who had virtually abandoned Judaism altogether, any more than he endorsed the political rhetoric of the zealots. He had no more patience for the scribes than for the Pharisees. In the same way, when we wave the flag of the United States in our churches we abandon our vocation as a people set apart and become just another cog in the wheels of a society that is ultimately not Christian. This must not be.

The kitchen is clean! Woo-hoo!

As I was cleaning, I was listening to CNN and pondering this whole war mess. I was also pondering the "just war" question. It no doubt seems heartless to reject the "galiant US forces" going in to "liberate" Iraq. I really don't question their motives, or the motives of the Christians that support war. However, I'm reminded of something from Screwtape Letters. If you have not yet read Screwtape, stop reading this, read it, then come back and finish reading this.

[Since I know you won't do that, I'll summarize: Screwtape is a fictional book by a guy names C.S. Lewis. Lewis takes on the person of a senior devil (Screwtape) writing instructions to his nephew (Slubgob) who has been assigned as a temptor to a human in late thirties England. Slubgob's goal is to corrupt the human to the point that he goes to hell, and Screwtape's goal is to eat Slubgob. So, the rights are wrong, and the wrongs are right. I doubt I would be a Christian if not for this book.]

Screwtape said something to the effect of "We must always encourage them to push all the virtues outward, and to keep all the malice, envy, and hate close to home. So, they can have the greatest compassion for the poor Nazi GI -- 1000 miles away -- but must be mean and hateful to their neighbor." Earlier today, I heard on the news how peace protesters had essentially started a minor riot in San Francisco, and I think that this illustrates the point: peace, love, and freedom for Iraq, but for my neighbors? Malice and destruction. It seems that, for at least some of the protesters, the goodness of the "big goal" justifies abandoning the principle at home. This is just one point of the larger inconsistency of the pacifist movement: most of the same people who are pacifists are quick enough to use the courts when they feel they are wronged -- yet the authority of the courts ultimately boils down to "do this or you'll go to jail. Go to jail, or we'll grab you. Cooperate when we grab you or we'll kill you." I'm not sure that there's a clear moral difference between that kind of force, writ small, and the force the US is using, which is just writ large. Funny how nobody protests that.

(This kind of hypocrisy abounds. As a Southerner, I have observed that many Northerners are just as much -- if not more -- racist than many southerners. However, it was at least in part pressure from the north that brought down segregation. They wanted justice in the south, but perhaps did not particularly want it at their local high school. Yes, they got it anyway... but the point is that social justic sounds like a much better idea when it's someone else's society.)

Anyway, I guess what I'm arriving too is that justice is not a terribly good standard for Christians. Or, as my mother used to say, "Most people should be glad that they don't get what they deserve." Justice is a two-edged sword -- "you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things" (Romans 2.1) -- it will cut us just as quickly as it will cut those we oppose. What we need is a better standard. Such a better standard is what Christianity -- whether the metaphor is liberation, resurrection, grace, love, submission or even peace -- is all about. The standard of Christianity is one that allowed an innocent man to be condemned to a horrible death that he did not deserve. It's about justice deferred into the hands of God and love drawn close into our hearts, knowing that we can trust God to take care of justice. (And if you don't like that, take it up with God.)

I just got convicted to go clean up the house for my wife tonight, so she won't have to do it tomorrow. How's that for theology? (No time to write more.)

If accepted, the just war theory proves that the Church's principles are for sale. Then, we just need to negotiate a price.

A note to a friend:

First, thanks for the sensitive and timely message. I would like to
add a few thoughts on this subject. As I write this (9:53PM, Wed.), I am
watching the beginnings of war on CNN, and I am struck by just how sad
this war is. Regardless of your position -- that this is a Just War,
that this is not a Just war or, like me, that the Just War Theory is
just a mistake -- I think we can all agree that the exercise of
military force is an occasion for mourning. I have to admit, I'm
pretty distressed at the moment by the degree to which many (most?)
American Christians seem to have forgotten this.

However, there is something even more important that I'm afraid the
church has forgotten. Over the past several months, I have watched
the church tearing itself apart over this issue. I'm aware of several
people who have left churches because the church failed to endorse
war, and at least one who left a church with much ill will because the
church refused to rail against the war. I myself, as a decidedly
"dovish" Christian have, again and again, been accused of all kinds of
perfidy. For example, one correspondent told me that, so far as he
was concerned, Christian "pacifists" were just "unwilling to bear the
cross of suffering for [their] fellow man." Another old friend is
scarcely speaking with me after finding out that I see war as no fit
vocation for a Christian.

The principle being lost, of course, is the unity of the church. I'm
reminded of Romans 14: ethical correctness may be less important
than the unity of the church. I am not convinced that the principle of
abstention from war is adequately established that we should
divide over it. (However, it is worth noting that Christian
opposition to military service seems to have been universal prior to
Constantine).

That being said, there are two questions in your post I would like to
address. The first relates to your points about Jesus' scourging of
the temple. To me, the question is not so much whether Jesus showed
anger -- I think that anger is sometimes appropriate if it is not
misplaced -- as whether Jesus used force against his fellow man. The
question is not whether we get angry, but what we will do with our
anger.

I see no particular reason to think that, when Jesus scourged the
temple, he drove the moneychangers out:

In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and
pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. And making a whip
of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and
oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned
their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, "Take these
things away; do not make my Father's house a house of trade." (John
2.14-, ESV)

Unfortunately, this translation, like most, gives the impression that
"them all" refers to the money-changers and possibly also their
animals. However, there is some credible argument that "them all"
(gk. pantas) refers not to the sellers, nor to the sellers and the
animals, but only to the animals. From Yoder's The Politics of
Jesus:

The reader can [emphasis mine] take "them all" as referring to
the money changers and the vendors of animals. Yet, ever since the
earliest centuries, careful analysis of the text has excluded this
interpretation and supported the trend of the newer translations:
"...drove all the animals out of the temple, both the sheep and the
cattle" [...] The normal sense of the conjunction te kai is to
initiate a list, not to continue a series begining with "them all."
The "the all" (pantas) may with equal grammatical propriety refer to
the preceding "sellers and changers" or to the following "sheep and
bullocks."

The grammatical argument being ambiguous, Yoder also raises some
purely practical concerns to drive the point home. Specifically: if
Jesus had gone into the temple and driven those who were legally there
out by force, there would have been no need to search for a charge
against him -- he would have been arrested immediately and punished in
some way. A little civil disorder against unpopular moneychangers is
one thing, assault is quite another. Yet, we are told, he taught in
the temple regularly immediately after this episode, and there was
great difficulty finding a charge that would stick.

Incidentally, I'm surprised that you didn't bring up the "two swords"
issue (Luke 22.38). Fortunately, careful reading renders it no more
substantial than the scourging of the temple.

Now to one of my favorite topics: the just war theory. Given that
you are opposed to war in this particular case, I wonder how you feel
about war in general? There are two possible Christian positions on
war: either war (and the use of force in general) is acceptable for
Christians in some cases, or it is not. The former position is what
advocates of the just war theory uphold - they maintain that, in
order to build a just world, believers must sometimes be willing to
use force against evil people.

This all sounds very good, but unfortunately has no scriptural
basis. Let's consider the ultimate injustice: the crucifixion of
Jesus. Throughout the New Testament, there is an overwhelming sense
of awe that Jesus, who was without sin, could accept so ignominious a
fate. We are told, specifically, that he was without sin, yet he was
treated as a sinner. Surely this is unjust? So, by the just war
theory, surely it should have been opposed? Yet, what did Jesus do?
First, when Peter tried to defend him, he rebuked Peter saying "those
who live by the sword will perish by the sword" [too lazy to look up
the ref]. Then, when before Pilate, and asked what he had done, he
says:

My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of
this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not
be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.
Jn 18.36

If this verse doesn't make us blink, then we should read it again.
Jesus specifically refuses to use military force to in the face of
great injustice and mortal peril. Our ethic is love, and this is the
pattern of love - that we should give up our lives for our friends
(John 16 or so). Nothing about killing - just dying.

So, whence the just war theory? Let it be said, I have not been able
to find a scintilla of support for the just war theory prior to
Ambrose in the late 3rd century. The theory was first clearly
formulated by Augustine in the 4th century. To make a long story
short, he built upon philosophy -- so much of the work of the Bard of
Hippo is founded in philosophy -- to rationalize his way into
accepting wars. To let Paul speak for himself:

See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and
empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental
spirits* of the world, and not according to Christ. (Col
2.8)

The bottom line is that we do not get the just war theory from
Christ, but from good old fashioned "human tradition, according to
the elemental spirits of the world." On an aside, if this post
arouses as much ire as I hope it will, I want to challenge anyone
advocating the Just War theory to find anything resembling that
reasoning in the New Testament.

But wait, you say, what about the Old? Well, what about the Old
Testament? This comes down to an issue of the covenenant. I find
that those who advocate the "Just War" rarely conceive of any
significant line between the Old Testament and the New. However, such
a position is unsustainable. In the Old Testament, the covenant
people were defined ethnically, and were maintained in the ways in
which ethnic groups have always been maintained. (Although it is
worth noting that, most often, Israel always failed when she fought
for herself. She only won when she fought by the direct order and
supernatural support of God.) However, today the chosen people -- the
elect -- are defined not ethnically but by our commitment to Jesus.
Put another way, Jesus' "kingdom is not of this world." And, since it
is not of this world, we have no need to fight for it with the weapons
of this world. "We do not wrestle against flesh and
blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the
cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces
of evil in the heavenly places." (Eph. 6:12)

Which brings us to what is, I think, the most important point in all
of this. I often see Christians commend the virtues of patriotism.
In fact, the church where Leland meets in Hampton Roads has, on their
billboard, a sign saying "Freedom is not Free -- Ask a Veteran."
However, that is not a particularly Christian statement! In fact, it
is just the opposite, because it is concerned exclusively with a very
worldly and narrow definition of freedom. They are right Freedom is
not free -- Jesus paid dearly for it. And with all due respect to
the good intentions of those in uniform, none of them can buy one
ounce of freedom. Freedom is found only in the kingdom of God, which
is "not of this world." The reason we as a church are violent is that
we as a church are worldly. Why do we fight earthly battles when
heavenly battles are being lost daily? Why do we fight battles for a
kingdom which is not ours? "Our citizenship is in heaven" - why do
we not take that seriously.

And, let it be said, pacifists are no less guilty of this than
non-pacifists. Every time I read a pacifist web site, or listen to a
pacifist argue his point, or talk to a pacifist, I find that their
arguments quickly degenerate from "we won't fight because we don't
need to fight because we have a place in heaven" into petty
rationalizations as to why this particular war is not practical, not
just, or whatever. If our principles have to be proven "practical",
then we have already lost, because we have already sold out to the
world! This massive sell-out on the part of pacifists is why I
choose not to use the term. Call me a peacemaker, better yet call me
a non-resister, but don't call me a pacifist. I'm not a pacifist -
I'm just a Christian who won't fight.

One last note. I'm often told that my brand of non-engagement
abandons the wider world to its faith. This is simply not true.
A refusal to engage in worldly processes to create justice
does not mean that I cannot have any effect on the world. Just the
opposite: I can have more effect on the world by remaining true to
the principles Jesus laid out for me than I can by abandoning them.
Consider two cases: Martin Luther King and Malcom X. They each
shared a goal: the liberation of African Americans from brutal
oppression. And I think we have to acknowledge that they each had
some success. However, one was a Christian and one was not.
M.L. King refused violent tactics, making a principled, Christian,
decision, and did more good in 10 years than 150 years of African
American revolutionaries had ever done. It is absurd to claim that we
must be violent to change the world when Jesus wasn't.

Patrick

Today, I had a conversation that reminded me of something very important: it very, very possible to lose Jesus by loving the church too much. This happens when we stop thinking of the church as the body of Christ and start thinking of it as the building of Christ.

I just got back from my brother's wedding in Florida. In order to understand the wedding, you have to understand my family: we have long been deeply divided, in every generation. There is a lasting tradition of really blatant favoritism on the part of parents towards (and against) some of their children. This ends up creating an "in group" and an "out group." Once your role is cast in this system, it is almost impossible to change it. My brother is a white sheep, and I am black. And, so far as I can discern, nothing I do today would stand a chance of changing the label which I have inherited.

Anyway, I was somewhat discouraged by the evidence that this division has continued. My brother had my father and my sister in the wedding - and didn't even tell me it was happening. I heard about it third hand, then got an invitation. But it goes back a generation as well. Two married sets of aunt's and uncles -- the white sheep of the previous generation -- sat in the first two rows of the church, in the space reserved for immediate family. And, the remaining uncle and his wife sat in the back, safely anonymous. No doubt, if any of my family were to read this, they would offer many reasons why it was this way, and especially why these examples were the fault of the "black sheep."

But that's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm here to talk about the Church. I think that, just as my family is divided, the church is divided. And, I think, the division is perpetuated by the "white sheep" group. The black sheep are without voice, because they have already been marginalized, and the "white sheep" own the public face of the church. The white sheep are responsible, respectable, and wealthy. The white sheep listen to reason. The white sheep are practical. The white sheep are the part of the church that everyone wants to be. The white sheep believe in the just war theory, and the white sheep are politically engaged and "responsible."

And the black sheep are the lunatics who might just keep the church alive despite itself. Unfortunately, speaking as a black sheep in both the church and my family, I can tell you that the black sheep can rejoin the church only if the white sheep welcome us -- recognizing that we, the black sheep, have been pushed aside and that we, the black sheep, are needed, and that we, the black sheep, cannot become part of the flock unless the white sheep welcome us, seek us, and pull us back in. All without making us dye ourselves white. What this church needs is a few good radicals.

Well, it's been quite a while since I posted here. The short form is that I ended up being rejected from the seminary of my choice -- for "Academic Reasons." Well, the academic reasons are related to the three years I sloughed off school, getting more or less "straight F's" as I tried to figure out who the heck I am. One would think that the past three years during which I have gotten straight A's, combined with the fact that it has been seven years since I got anything but an "A", would be more significant. But, apparently not. I called the admissions director, and apparently this school has had an exceptional number of applicants this year, no doubt due to the poor economy, and this was the major reason I failed to make the cut.

This strikes me as an example of the church failing to conduct itself in a church-like manner. I would argue that there is a moral principle to the effect "the people of God should never allow anyone to get in a hole so deep they can't get out." However, as much as I disagree with it, I guess I have to accept it as a "God thing." I had prayed that, if it were not God's will for me to go to this school, I would not get in. Nevertheless, I was pretty devastated - I had spent the past five years of my life working my butt off, and this was a pretty substantial rejection.

Since all this took place, I have been trying to figure out why. That's been going on for six weeks now, since I got the rejection letter. Last night, as I was half asleep, I think God told me. I had chosen this school because they seemed to be very compatible with where I am going theologically. However, God seemed to say, "you have nothing to teach them." That is, what I know -- my contribution to the discourse of a school -- is something they already know. What's weird, of course, is that I would think I was going to seminary to learn, not to teach. Maybe the truth is that a seminary, like any community of faith, is a place where everyone should be a teacher. For those who think this sounds sophomoric or egotistical, all I can say is "God told me. Wanna fight about it?"

And the winner is...

Well, I got a hold of the ESV today and have spent some time with it (mostly in 1Cor 12-14, since I'm preaching on spiritual gifts in a few weeks.) Overall, it seems a very nice translation. I like that the fact that it is very literal without being totally idiomatic (like, for example, the NASB.) However, I find myself drawn in another direction: the NET Bible manages to get a lot of the translational issues I care about right. They translate "pistews Christou" (pardon my erratic transliteration) as "faithfulness of Christ" (e.g. in Gal 2.16). Since I find the arguments for this presented by e.g. Richard Hays convincing, this makes me happy. Of course, they still render YHWH as "The LORD", so it's not perfect. However, they also get right 1Cor 13:3, translating as "if I give up my body so that I may boast", following the NRSV and the UBS4.

This bears some explanation, which I will mostly draw from my reading of the NET notes. It turns out that there is a significant textual question here. The earliest manuscripts seem to have "if I give up my body so that I may boast", while later ones say "to be burned." This all hinges on two Greek letters. Metzger argues (and I tend to agree) that (1) boast makes more sense with the tense of the Greek verb (2) boast makes more sense in context and (3) given the Roman habit (in later years) of burning Christians at the stake, it would be a very easy mistake for a later scribe to make. However, it is hard to see how a later scribe would come to change "to burn" into "to boast." So, the reading of "to boast" makes more sense, and is what is used by the NRSV, as well as the NET. Dissenting are the KJV, NIV, and ESV.

But let's get real here. Does it really matter? If we read the whole chapter and base our interpretation on the whole chapter rather than trying to divide it up into tiny pieces and base our interpretation on those pieces, it really doesn't matter which word is more accurate. So, this particular difference does not matter. However, I have always maintained and will continue to maintain that the best way to use translations is to use a LOT of them. Don't depend on one, human, fallible translation for your faith.

Quotable Kempis:

DO NOT yield to every impulse and suggestion but consider things carefully and patiently in the light of God�s will. For very often, sad to say, we are so weak that we believe and speak evil of others rather than good. Perfect men, however, do not readily believe every talebearer, because they know that human frailty is prone to evil and is likely to appear in speech.

I think it speaks for itself, eh?

I spent the whole day today at the church, working on computers. Oddly enough, I think I get more theological reflection done at home than at the church! This being the case, I thought I'd share an insight I had a couple of weeks ago.

Hope (my church) is in the process of buying a monastery as our new church building. A few of us 'droids from the office went by there a couple of weeks ago to pray in the chapel (which is open to the public.) As is my custom, I prayed through the Lord's prayer. In the past, when I've prayed inwardly I have tended to change the Lord's prayer from "We" to "I" - so, it becomes "My father in heaven, holy be your name ... give ME today MY daily bread," etc.

However, this time I was struck with the insight that the "we" is probably deliberate. We do not pray in isolation - we pray as a community of believers, part of God's chosen people, citizens of God's kingdom, inseparable, with truth and just... err .... Yes. Anyway, all flowery language aside, my core realization was that the Lord's prayer is not a prayer for "me", it's a prayer for "us". Even when I pray inwardly, alone, I pray as someone who has been given the standing to pray only by my membership in the community of the church. And that's pretty stinkin' cool.

But it gets better. When got to the part about "lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from the evil one" I was given another insight. This insight began with the question "what is the temptation before us, as a body, right now." as I prayerfully considered this, I realized that our greatest temptation was to run away from the calling of God, to be God's people.

This is important: being in a church with other members of the Romans 3.23 crowd is not always easy. Often, it seems that the easiest thing to do is to flee from the challenges of community life - to jump to another church, or (maybe worse) press into our own private cloister, where religion is defined exclusively by our private experience apart from the church. I have felt that temptation, and if you've been around church much so have you. Don't give into the Dark Side. Y'all hear?

This seems to be the year for rare archaoelogical finds. Several months ago, we had the James Ossuary, now it appears that repair plans for the first temple in Jerusalem have been unearthed. In your face, Biblical minimalists! Click here for more about this.

I'm still reading Thomas a Kempis, and he's rocking my world:

The more you know and the better you understand, the more severely will you be judged, unless your life is also the more holy. Do not be proud, therefore, because of your learning or skill. Rather, fear because of the talent given you.

I think there's obviously some truth to that - in fact, scripture says something similar (Jas. 3.1). Of course, that's not exactly a comfortable thing for me to read - since it is my ambition to understand everything.

On another topic, I spent much of this evening chasing after the details of the ESV, trying to decide whether to get that or the NRSV for Accordance. I still haven't reached a conclusion. Frankly, I am non-plussed by the NRSV's gender inclusiveness spiel (as I am by gender inclusive language in general.) However, I am concerned that the ESV may not have great intellectual integrity. Particularly, their desire to return the translation of Isaiah (9 I think) to "virgin" troubles me. I think Bible translations should preserve the ambiguity of the original text whenever it's coherent. "Young woman" is what the Hebrew word means - we should leave it up to the reader to make the connection back to the "virgin" in Matthew. Part of me is inclined just to use the RSV and save a lot of money and time, but I don't know if that will be academically credible. (The New Jerusalem Bible is still my favorite, if only because its the only reasonable translation not to play silly games with the word YHWH -- translating it consistently as "Yahweh" rather than "The LORD", as distinct from "the Lord" or "THE LORD" or whatever the conventions are.)

Oh yes .. I should probably mention that I am quite aware that the reason for the NIV's translational flops lies in its translational philosophy. However, I am troubled that the NIV has not done a better job of limiting theological bias in the translation process!

From Thomas a Kempis:

What good does it do to speak learnedly about the Trinity if, lacking humility, you displease the Trinity? Indeed it is not learning that makes a man holy and just, but a virtuous life makes him pleasing to God. I would rather feel contrition than know how to define it. For what would it profit us to know the whole Bible by heart and the principles of all the philosophers if we live without grace and the love of God? Vanity of vanities and all is vanity, except to love God and serve Him alone.

I could be wrong, but I think the estimable Kempis is on to something here. It might even be the same thing that Paul was on to in 1Cor 8:

Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge.

Of course, this verse is often an excuse for trite anti-intellectualism and general silliness. That's not what this is about. Bonhoeffer makes the point (in Cost of D.) that, when Faust says "I now do see that we can nothing know" he does so as someone who has learned quite a bit. He also points out that, if a college sophomore said the same thing, it would be the heart of foolishness. Neverthless, probably words worth remembering.

I hate the NIV. As soon as you read that, you probably pigeon-holed me, saying "Oh great, another KJV nut!" Well, for what it's worth, I don't like the King James either. (In fact, my favorite translation is actually the New Jerusalem Bible, but nobody else seems to care for it much.) The reason I dislike the NIV is because it consistently translates the Greek in a way that tends to "prove" evangelical orthodoxy without making any note of it.

Let's look at an example that I came across in the service tonight. The NIV translates Ephesians 1.21 as:

Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior.

Now, this translation certainly seems to go towards a traditional understanding: "you got a problem, the problem is sin, and the answer is JESUS." However, I'm not sure it very accurately reflects the Greek. Consider the NRSV's translation:

And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds,

In many ways, this means the same thing as the NIV. However, notice that the NIV inserted two words that are not in the Greek: "because" and "your". There is nothing in the Greek to clearly state that the evil deads belonged to the Colossians as individuals - in fact, this translation seems (to me) to be an individualistic encroachment on scripture. To see why, go back and look at 1.19-20

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

God isn't just making our, particular, evil deeds okay - he is answering and redeeming the evil of all creation. No, I'm not a universalist - I believe that Goodness for all creation will require God to condemn all who do evil. However ... if God is redeeming all creation, and all of creation's evil deeds, then where does that put us? Can we go on sinning and be part of that redemption? Hardly.

Anyway, to come back to my point .. whether my gut thinking (and that's all this is) on this subject is correct or not, the NIV's sloppy translation would never let you know that there was even a possibility that the evil deeds were not those of individuals who had now become Christians. This is a bad thing.

(I'm hoping to get a copy of the ESV this week, which looks increasingly intriguing.)

In the description of this blog, I call it "Maunderings of a digital monk." What does that mean? Well, first, I have to admit I'm not much of a monk -- and have four kids to prove it. However, I like knowledge, love theology, and want to write. So, since I seem to be completely unable to do the whole silly journalling thing, I thought I might put my blog on the web. Hope you enjoy.