My Favorite Bible Stories

Everybody has a favorites Bible verse or story. Or, at least we all did when we were kids in Sunday school. Growing up, I always liked the story of David and Goliath. I’d like to say that I did because of the whole “little guy versus big guy” morality play at work there, but honestly, I think I liked it because it was the most violent story in the children’s Bible, and I was a typical little boy.

MFBS - InstagramAs I’ve grown older, I’ve given very little thought to the idea of a “favorite” Bible verse. I certainly enjoy the Bible, and get a lot of meaning from it. I revere it as the container of the tradition of God that I find myself part of. But picking favorites hasn’t been high on my list.

I think this is true for a lot of other people, too, at least at a meaningful level. What I mean is, I don’t think most Christians put a lot of conscious effort into thinking about what parts of the Bible they really like, and why. I think for a lot, the default answer becomes “john 3:16” or something equally vapid and typical.

In this series, I want to explore the stories and verses in the Bible that come up most often when I am thinking and writing about my faith. These are the things that have really stuck with me, the verses and stories that I would choose out if someone who wasn’t familiar with Biblical Christianity asked me for a handful of verses as a starting point. I’m not going to tackle them in some hierarchical or ordered way; instead, I will take them in the order they come in the Bible (with one exception.)

Throughout this series, I hope you will think about the same thing: what are your truly favorite parts of the Bible, and why? Please share in the comments what you come up with; I’m curious to see what people say!

And starting tomorrow: Genesis 18:16-33.

Tradition as Dependent Source in Theology

The following is a paper I wrote last semester, for my Introduction to Theology class.

Scripture, Experience, Tradition and Reason: the four parts of the classic “Wesleyan Quadrilateral,” now commonly accepted as the authoritative sources of the Christian faith. Debate about how these sources should be ordered or placed in a hierarchy is common ground for theology. This paper asserts that Tradition is the primary source through which is the Christian faith is apprehended. Experience, Scripture and Reason are each brought to bear on our faith, but only through the prism of Tradition. This isn’t simply an assertion that Tradition should come first in the hierarchy of sources; rather, Tradition should be understood as a dependent variable in the functioning of the other three primary sources.

The concept of tradition is made up of multiple understandings.  Merriam-Webster defines it first and foremost as “an inherited, established, or customary pattern of thought, action, or behavior (such as a religious practice or a social custom.)” Tyron Inbody, in The Faith of the Christian Church, gives three different understandings of tradition in the Christian context. First, “tradition is the set of practices and beliefs we learned in our local church.” (Inbody, 39) He extends this first definition not just to that which the average Christian learned locally in their church, but in the sense of churches being connected to a history two millennia in the making.

scripturescroll1Next, Inbody says that tradition “is used in a narrow sense to refer to the official teachings of the church that interpret Scripture or complement Scripture.” (Inbody, 39) As he points out, “dogma” is a way of referring to this understanding of tradition, tied to the Councils of the church and the inherited teachings of the early church leaders. Finally, he defines tradition as “The whole sweep of Christian history, which we can call ‘the Christian past’, ‘the Christian heritage,’ ‘the Christian inheritance.’” (Inbody, 40)

Using these definitions as guides, we can understand tradition as the sum of teachings, histories, practices, beliefs, ideas, and behaviors passed down by our Christian forebears in their own lives in the Christian faith. These accumulated pieces of tradition are then appropriated in two distinct ways by each Christian. First, in limited form, as the multitude of concepts contained in the different pieces listed above are too vast for any one person to comprehend in whole; rather, each Christian in influenced by it all not directly, but indirectly, in the sense of the weight each piece bears on the others. Second, the pieces are interpreted through specific contexts unique to each Christian. These two pieces could be classified as unmediated experience, the lived experience of each and every person as a whole. (Not to be confused with religious experience, which is the theologized experience of each person.)

Tradition is mediated through the religious institutions that Christians build and inhabit. The most common of these institutions is the church, where the majority of Christians go to learn about and interact with their faith. To this setting, Christians bring their own experiences, read the Scriptures, and deploy reason. The tradition of the church provides the guideposts for engaging these three sources in a way that makes sense in a Christian context. “Theology that does not root itself deeply in what Christians understand to be their sacred traditions cannot speak meaningfully to those Christians, nor can it hope to guide them in any meaningful way toward the God for whom they long.” (Ray, 16)

This received tradition, then, interacts with the other three primary sources of faith in a way that makes tradition essential to understanding those sources as legitimate lens for interpreting the Christian faith. Scripture is held by Protestants to be the central and most important source of the Christian faith. Inbody notes that “almost all Christians agree that without Scripture, theology would be unthinkable.” Yet, without tradition interpreting and orienting it, Scripture would be inscrutable and nonsensical. The stories, teachings, and psalms contained in Scripture all hold religious meaning for Christians because they have a tradition of meaning built behind them by the church and passed down from generation to generation. For instance, the story of Paul’s Damascus Road experience would simply be an ancient story of a mysterious encounter if tradition did not preserve the importance of the story for Christian lives today.

The road to Damascus also illustrates the importance of tradition in making meaning out of religious experience. For Paul to draw meaning from his vision, or from any believer to ascribe Christian relevance to their experiences, the tradition of the faith must be brought to bear. By interpreting our personal experience in the here and now through the lens of tradition, which includes the lived experience of more than two millennia, we are able to link our experience to Christ, and thus understand it’s relevance for our understanding of God and it’s role in our salvation.

bibleExperience is the primary source of human knowledge, generally speaking. All human epistemology is experiential at the most basic level. But as Inbody points out, “Everything we know, including what we know through experience, we know through our language and culture. Thus experience does not, and cannot, exist apart from a social context.” (Inbody, 50) In the Christian context, this language, culture and social situation is part of the tradition of the church.

Finally, reason used in understanding the Christian faith is conditioned by the tradition of the church. As Inbody points out, reason has a variety of meanings in the Christian context. (Inbody, 43-47) For simplicity sake, reason here is understood in essence as “faith seeking understanding.” Christians seek to understand their faith; the base human desire for order and understanding does not evaporate in religious settings. But, in Christianity, tradition still must play a role in the reasoning process. No one person is capable of comprehending and systematizing all of the Christian worldview on their own. Each person is indebted to the tradition of the the faith, worked out by a variety of minds across the history of humanity, as they construct their own view of God and Christ. For instance, a person may have their own unique view of the purpose and function of the Holy Trinity. But that person is dependent in the first place on the tradition of the church regarding the existence and structure of the Trinity, something that is not necessarily self-evident in Scripture itself, but was arrived at through the traditioning process in the early centuries of Christian history.

Of course, their are limits to the role of tradition in the interpretation of Christianity, and dangers inherent in it’s use as the primary source of theology. As Ray and Schneider point out, tradition co-opted by hegemonic power can become destructive: “A religion formed and sustained by top-down power reveals only human power.” (Ray, 40) Tradition can be wielded against the interests of God’s people; it’s normalizing power can be used in the pursuit of power at the expense of others, shutting down alternate views as on contradiction to itself. This is why it is important that the traditioning process be open to all Christians, no matter their station or situation, and that they each be allowed to interact with tradition in a way that sustains and promotes abundant life. God is revealed as the primordial powers of life and love; any tradition or use of tradition that denies or obscures this fact is illegitimate and hegemonic. Theologian Karen Baker-Fletcher puts it beautifully: “The God of life is the norm and ultimate concern of theology…Without the power of life, there is no breath for God-talk.” (Baker-Fletcher, 39) To put it in the words of a contemporary cry for justice, tradition without the life-giving and loving presence of God inspires the lament of the late Eric Garner: “I can’t breathe!” Life is choked out by a tradition bent on power and control rather than abundant love.

Christian theology is inevitably a construct serving a specific purpose. As Ray and Schneider write in Awake to the Moment, “All theology is constructed out of the best efforts of human beings to understand the ineffable reality and experience of divinity in the world.” (Ray, 12) Luckily, each Christian is not required to construct out of nothing. Their is a rich and powerful tradition available to Christians in the making of theology. Crucially, this is not an optional mode of theologizing; all Christians are subject to the tradition: “all of our theological ideas are also constructed – none of them fell straight from heaven without passing through the sieves of human interpretations, languages, wonderment. This is not to say that theology is not inspired by revelations of God, rather that our attempts to understand those revelations always involve interpretation.” (Ray, 38) That interpretation requires an interpreting tradition that delineates what is and isn’t within the bounds of Christian thought. This isn’t to say that bounds can’t be pushed and stretched to envelop new ideas. But even that pushing and stretching requires the tradition already established to relate to and orient towards the center of the faith, which is Jesus Christ.

 

Bibliography

Baker-Fletcher, Karen. Dancing with God: The Trinity from a Womanist Perspective. St Louis: Chalice Press, 2006.

Inbody, Tyron. The Faith of the Christian Church: An Introduction to Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing, 2005.

Merriam-Webster. “Tradition.” Last Modified September 11, 2017. Accessed October 10, 2017. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tradition.

Schneider, Laurel C. and Stephen G. Ray Jr., eds. Awake to the Moment: An Introduction to Theology. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2016.

The Bookshelf: The Last Christians

So much of American Christianity, especially of the Evangelical and Fundamentalist varieties, carries within it a striking ideological contradiction.

On one hand, Christians in America, even if they don’t embrace the theologies outright, carry the assumptions of the prosperity gospel, and of violent nationalism. That is to say, many American Christians would affirm that God does indeed heap blessings and riches on His (because in this view, it’s almost always a male God) believers, and one particular way He does this is through the power of American military and economic hegemony.

On the other hand, many American Christians seem to think they are part of a small, persecuted, and powerless minority, strangers in a strange land that they have no responsibility for. Rather, a powerful, secular, globalist elite runs things, and is doing everything it can to stamp out American Christianity, mostly through feminism, abortion, same-sex marriage, and public schools.

lastchristiansENThese two views stand in stark contrast to one another, and to reality. That reality shines forth in Father Andreas Knapp’s superb book, The Last ChristiansIn it, Andreas tells his own story, of meeting refugee Christians in his own hometown of Leipzig, Germany, and how that leads to a trip to Iraq, on the border of ISIS territory, and his own growing fascination with and passion for the Christian communities who live there.

These Christian communities, located now in refugee camps in Mosul and Erbil, but originally from Syria, Turkey, and Armenia, are the last remnants of the earliest Christians. Still speaking Aramaic, the language of Christ, they trace their lineage back to the early desert fathers, and even further, to the earliest churches planted by Paul and the Apostles.

Today, they are threatened by the rise of ISIS and other forms of militant Islam. Forced to flee their homes, their culture is in danger of disappearing, as families are split apart and their cultural and religious heritage is forgotten. Knapp recounts the stories of the refugees he meets in Leipzig, and on his trip to Iraq, painting beautiful and painful pictures of a people who are a global treasure, but who are forgotten by the so-called Christian West, despite politically-conveinant talking points otherwise.

At times, Father Knapp veers towards blanket condemnations of all Muslims, militant or not, in the plight of these Christians. At one point, he comes awfully close to declaring that the very nature of Islam is violence and intolerance. This kind of rhetoric can obscure the points he also makes about the millions of Muslims who have been victimized by ISIS as well.

More relevantly, he does point the finger for the rise of ISIS and hyper-militancy in the Middle East, and the destruction it has reaped for the Christians he cares about, at the truest cause: American and Western hegemony, colonialism and reckless petro-capitalism. He writes,

“I wonder what Arab countries would look like today had oil not been discovered: no interference from Western colonial powers; no billions upon billions of petrodollars for the Islamist arms build-up. What course would modern Islam have taken without the vast sums of money pumped into the construction of mosques and the recruitment of Salafist from around the world? Was the black gold really a blessing for the Gulf States and their inhabitants? How many battles have been fought in this region over access to the oil wells – in the two Worlds Wars, the Gulf Wars, and to this day?”

Father Knapp is absolutely correct in his diagnosis of the problems facing not just the Eastern Christians, but the entire Middle East today. Yet, despite our complicity in their problems, the West largely ignores the plight of Eastern Christians, to say nothing of the millions of others who face persecution. Instead, so many American Christians are narrowly focused on the so-called persecution of “Happy Holidays” and Starbucks cups and religious freedom issues. At the same time, many American Christians gleefully participate in rhetoric and military hegemony that leads to the deaths of Christians and Eastern Christian culture. Father Knapp relays one particularly relevant example:

“The lack of understanding sometimes shown by our media on this issue may have other causes too. For one thing, it is hard for us to imagine how radically the political environment inhabited  by Eastern Christians differs from our own, to the extent that they can be made to suffer as hostages for the freedoms of the West. This was brought home to me by the uproar in the Middle East over European political cartoons depicting Mohammed. Such cartoons are a normal phenomenon in free democratic societies but, thanks to our globalized world, can trigger violent reactions in other, undemocratic systems. Thus, when caricatures of Mohammed were published in Denmark in 2006, the terrorist Mujahideen Council announced that Christians in Iraq would pay the price – which they duly did.

This is what persecution and minority status looks like. Not cakes for LGBT people or state capitols free of religious imagery. It’s death and displacement. When American Christians insist on burning Korans to make a political statement, they don’t suffer consequences. Instead, Eastern Christians in Mosul and Raqqa become their scapegoats, carrying their sins into the desert.

Andreas Knapp’s book is eye-opening and heartbreaking, but should be required reading in churches across America, especially churches who feel they are being persecuted. There is a real cultural and historical tragedy occurring in the Middle East, as the remnants of the oldest Christian communities are being wiped out due to the decisions American and European leaders have made. It’s time for all of us – myself included – to wake up and realize what is happening. The Last Christians is a good place to start.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Plough Publishers. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commissions’ 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”