Why do Christians pray? Oh, right.

The monastic literature of the fourth and early fifth centuries develops the pattern of a contemplative ascent through the moral life to the perception of reason and order in creation and thence to that openness to God as God which evades all conceptual definition and is true theologia.  In other words, the person who prays is the person who both in behaviour and in understanding restores order to a disordered world, a person who makes visible the effect of submission to logos; he or she is someone who vindicates the Christian faith as a scheme that unifies the world of experience rather than fragmenting it.  And the climax of the process is an acknowledgement of the absolute difference of God:  holiness is both living in an ordered universe and recognising that this order is derivative from a reality quite uncontainable within it.  It is as if the contemplative acts out in his or her life of prayer the relation between Christ's human and divine natures.  The mature life of contemplation is an embodiment of logos (just as it might have been for a certain kind of philosopher), but that logos emanates from a reality that cannot be encompassed by rational perception, only by love and radical detachment and the silencing of analytical and imaginative activity.  Just as in Christ, a human life is transfigured from within in function of an indwelling divine agency which is in loving relation with an infinite source.  In and with Christ, the believer represents both the unshakeable order of the universe and the utter freedom and mystery of the self-giving God.

Rowan Williams, Why Study the Past?, 45-6.

Changing Educational Paradigms

Got this in an email from my sister-in-law (that still sounds weird in my ear). Fascinating. Both the animation and the talk.

Balthasar and Barth: Some suggestions

Just a brief note of frustration.  Why is it that whenever you mention Balthasar to a Barthian, they inevitably (almost nervously) remark that Balthasar was much indebted to Barth, but not vice versa?  It is true that Balthasar was more influenced by Barth than the other way around.  But it is not clear to me that Barth was a very strong influence (meaning:  source) for Balthasar's theology.  If Balthasar was more open to Barth's theology than vice versa, it may say as much about Barth's modus operandi as it does about Balthasar's indebtedness to Barth.

Although it is true that Balthasar once said of his major triptych, "I wrote it all for Barth," thus perhaps suggesting an indebtedness to Barth, one should not ignore the second half of the statement, "to convert him."  Balthasar, I suggest, was not interested in Barth because he was the genius of his age (as most Barthians would contend), but because Balthasar saw in Barth the finest, most Catholic Protestant theologian Christianity had known.  I suspect Balthasar's interest was ecumenical and conciliatory, and that he drew on Barth as a kindred theologian from the Protestant side in that capacity.  Now doubt, Balthasar admired Barth for heroically uprooting the tracks to Protestant theology just as he admired the nouvelle theologie for waking from the Thomistic slumber of Catholic theology (on which, see Fergus Kerr's excellent book).

I recently discovered a fine review of Stephen Wigley's book, Karl Barth and Hans Urs von Balthasar, by my friend John Drury.  Wigley concludes that Barth is the key influence on the eventual structure of Balthasar's triptych.  John rightly takes him to task here, mentioning the theories of McIntosh and Mongrain who find more of Maximus the Confessor, Ignatius and Irenaeus in Balthasar's thought.  Each of these has more claim to a central role in Balthasar's theology than Barth.  One influence John also failed to mention, however, is the key influence that Balthasar himself cites:  Adrienne von Speyr.  Now, Mongrain has taken Balthasar's claim to task in his attempt to demonstrate Ignatian and Irenaean themes throughout Balthasar's works.  Even so, if anyone had a claim as a key influence, surely Adrienne would be it.  Even more so, we might want to point to those who introduced Balthasar to Irenaeus and Maximus--his teachers Henri de Lubac and Jean Danielou (just to name two).  These figures of the so-called nouvelle theologie are, no doubt, every bit as strong of influences on Balthasar's thought as Barth.  So, we should keep in mind that simply because someone writes something for someone does not necessarily mean that have written it under the influence of that someone.  It has often been noted that Balthasar wrote his triptych in reverse order as Kant presented his own.  I do not think we must therefore conclude that Kant is the key influence in Balthasar's theology.

I know it is hard to believe that Karl Barth might not have influenced profoundly every theologian of note, but it is just true.  Barth was a genius in many ways, and certainly (at least to my mind) the prince of twentieth-century Protestant theologians.  But let us resist finding his genius everywhere and make room for others of similar genius.  Balthasar was one of these.  He was an incredibly talented, creative, and original thinker.  In reality, his influences lie with the whole of the German intellectual tradition (especially Idealism), with the Church Fathers, with French literary figures, and the list goes on.  Balthasar devoured philosophers, theologians, literary authors, and composers with awe-inspiring capacity and range.  While Barth, as the greatest Protestant theologian of his age, was inevitably one of those influences, he was not the only, nor even the main influence, impetus, or source for Balthasar's theological writings.  The reductio ad Barth is a severly diminished understanding of Balthasar's mind. 

And so, I offer a gentle plea to Barthians to read Balthasar on his own terms, and not through Barth-shaped glasses.  I think the exercise is well worth the exertion.

Pure Mathematics of the Spirit

"The spirits of the living world were never meant to be so neighbourly with the spirits of that other. "Grant to them eternal rest, O Lord. And let light eternal shine upon them." Let them rest in their own places of light; far, far from us be their discipline and their endeavour. The phrases of the prayers of intercession throb with something other than charity for the departed; there is a fear for the living. Grant them, grant them rest; compel them to their rest. Enlighten them, perpetually enlighten them. And let us still enjoy our refuge from their intolerable knowledge.

"As if in a last communion with the natural terrors of man, Margaret Anstruther endured a recurrent shock of fear. She recalled herself. To tolerate such knowledge with a joyous welcome was meant, as the holy Doctors had taught her, to be the best privilege of man, and so remained. The best maxim towards that knowledge was yet not the Know thyself of the Greek so much as the Know love of the Christian, though both in the end were one. It was not possible for man to know himself and the world, except first after some mode of knowledge, some art of discovery. The most perfect, since the most intimate and intelligent, art was pure love. The approach by love was the approach to fact; to love anything but fact was not love. Love was even more mathematical than poetry; it was the pure mathematics of the spirit. It was applied also and active; it was the means as it was the end. The end lived everlastingly in the means; the means eternally in the end."

From Charles Williams, Descent Into Hell, pp. 68-69

Austin Farrer, A Rebirth of Images

Austin Farrer, A Rebirth of Images (London: Dacre, 1949).

No one has applied himself to the question of the literary art of the Apocalypse with more relentlessness than Austin Farrer. The book is a masterpiece and a puzzle, at once impressive and bemusing. The entire book is dominated by the conclusion (or shall we say, conviction) that the Apocalypse “is the one great poem which the first Christian age produced” (6). Accordingly, in this study of the book of Revelation, Farrer claims “to introduce into the field of scriptural divinity a known method of poetical analysis” (20). The origins of Christianity were, in fact, a “rebirth” of the imagery of the Jewish Scriptures. The most complete rebirth was accomplished in Revelation; in John’s poetical labor, the images of the Old Testament were reborn completely with Christ as the new center. Farrer saw, more than many, the sophistication of the book. He approaches the book as a work of genius, not that of a madman, though the difference between the two has often thought to be slight. He traces the themes of the Apocalypse much like one might trace the genius of Christopher Smart’s Jubilate Agno. In fact, the result of the Farrer’s analysis is so complex and dense, one might wonder whether Farrer has seen more than is actually there.

Peter of Damascus a propos the day

Today is Holy Saturday. It is a day for remembering yesterday and hoping for tomorrow. Funerals are interesting times, usually filled as much with laughter and smiles as with tears and weeping--and all of that is mourning. But I suspect the laughing and the weeping, the chattering and the condolences are basically a way to fill the silence. Not silence in general, but a specific silence. We remember the life of our beloved, we tell each other stories of his or her life and we wish aloud he or she was still with us. All of it because we no longer hear or see that beloved until kingdom come.

I intended to use this piece from Peter of Damascus yesterday in the Good Friday service, but perhaps it is just as appropriate today.

"Who is not amazed when he thinks of Thy inexpressible self-abasement? For being God, inscrutable, all-powerful, and ruling all things, enthroned above the cherubim--who are figures of wisdom in its multiplicity--on account of us, who have provoked Thy anger from the beginning, Thou has humbled Thyself, accepting to be born and brought up among us. Thou hast endured persecutions, stoning, mocking, insults, cuffs and blows, ridicule and spitting, then the Cross and the nails, the sponge and the reed, vinegar and gall, and all the rest that I am unworthy to hear about. Then a spear pierced Thy most pure side, and from this wound Thou hast poured forth for us eternal life: Thy precious blood and water.

"...Lord Jesus Christ, Son and Logos of God, the most tender name of our salvation, great is Thy glory, great are Thy works, marvellous are Thy words, 'sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb' (Ps 19.10). Glory to Thee, O Lord, glory to Thee. Who can glorify and hymn Thy coming in the flesh, Thy goodness, power, wisdom, Thy life in this world and Thy teaching? And how is it that Thy holy commandments teach us the life of virtue so naturally and so easily? As Thou didst say, Lord: 'Forgive, and you will be forgiven' (cf. Matt 6.14); and again: 'Seek and you will find, knock and it will be opened to you' (Matt 7.7); and: 'Whatever you would that men should do to you, do also to them' (Matt 7.12). Who, having understood Thy commandments and other sayings, will not be astonished when he perceives Thy boundless wisdom? For Thou are the wisdom of God, the life of all, the joy of angels, the ineffable light, the resurrection of the dead, the good shepherd 'who gives His life for the sheep' (John 10.11). I hymn Thy transfiguration, crucifixion, burial, resurrection, ascension, Thy enthronement at the right hand of God the Father, the descent of the Holy Spirit and Thy future advent, when Thou wilt come with power and great, incomprehensible glory.

"I grow weak, my Lord, before Thy wonders and, at a loss, I long to take refuge in silence. Yet I do not know what to do. For if I keep silence, amazement overwhelms me; but if I dare to say something, I am struck dumb and rapt away. I regard myself as unworthy of heaven and earth, and as deserving every punishment, not simply because of the sins I have committed, but much more because of the blessings I have received without my showing any gratitude, contemptible as I am. For Thou, Lord, who dost transcend all goodness, hast filled my soul with every blessing. I dimly perceive Thy works and my mind is amazed. Merely to look on what is Thine reduces me to nothing. Yet the knowledge is not mine, nor the endeavour, for it is Thy grace. Therefore I will lay my hand on my mouth, as Job once did (cf. Job 40.4), and will take refuge in Thy saints, for I am bewildered. ..."

From "Eight Stages of Contemplation," Fourth Stage, transl. from The Philokalia, pp. 128-9.

Rowland, "Things into Which Angels Long to Look"

Christopher Rowland, “Things into Which Angels Long to Look: Approaching Mysticism from the Perspective of the New Testament and the Jewish Apocalypses,” in Christopher Rowland and Christopher R. A. Morray-Jones, The Mystery of God: Early Jewish Mysticism and the New Testament (CRINT, vol. 12; Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2009), pp. 1-216.

In this study Christopher Rowland provides an outstanding survey of apocalypticism in the New Testament (NT). Rowland is to be commended for presenting a thorough argument in favor of the permeation of apocalypticism in New Testament theology. Instead of a limited focus on apocalyptic eschatology, Rowland capitalizes on the theme of the volume by analyzing apocalypticism in its “mystical” aspects. Following Hengel’s definition of apocalypticism as the search for “higher wisdom through revelation,” Rowland is keen to highlight visionary experience(s) and developed angelological and merkavah themes. Thus Rowland seeks to establish the apocalyptic origins of Christianity (á là Schweitzer) by conceptualizing apocalypticism along its (Jewish) mystical axis.

Atheist Delusions

I try to read as much of David Bentley Hart's work as I can. He is about the finest public Christian theologian I have read. Since I have taken back up with historical studies, I have little time for works of theology. But this is one I could not resist. In Atheist Delusions, Hart takes on the so-called New Atheists and their popular proclamations and pontifications.

The book is arranged in four parts. In part one (Faith, Reason, and Freedom: A View from the Present) Hart provides his interpretation of the current cultural situation that underlies the popularity of the "New Atheists." The first chapter outlines what Hart calls the "Gospel of Unbelief," and stages a first assault upon the incredible works of Dawkins, Dennett and Sam Harris in particular. In his initial examination Hart postulates that the problem underlying not only these dilettantes, but other popular authors as well (e.g. Philip Pullman and Dan Brown), is a faulty and simplistic view of history that overemphasizes the virtues of the modern world and the vices of Christianity, and concomitantly underemphasizing the virtues of Christian civilization and the vices of modernity.

The Historical Jesus: Five Views

Ordinarily I find these 'four views' or 'five views' kind of books a little contrived. Usually published by evangelical publishers and edited by evangelical editors, I think they are intended to show the superiority of the evangelical position. But this volume comprises a nice cross-section of current historical Jesus research.

The introduction to the volume is judicious and offers the basic background to historical Jesus research. The chapters that follow are essays by five scholars (Robert M. Price, John Dominic Crossan, Luke Timothy Johnson, James D. G. Dunn and Darrell Bock) who represent points along the spectrum of scholarly positions on the historical Jesus and the enterprise of studying the historical figure of Jesus. The volume does not disappoint expectations since the arrangement of the essays suggests a graded progression from the most radically revisionist to the most traditional portrait of Jesus. In spite of the clearly chosen arrangement, the essays each provide a snapshot of major voices in historical Jesus scholarship.

Stark, Statistics, and the Early Church

In Cities of God (New York: HarperCollins, 2006), popular sociologist Rodney Stark attempts to bring quantitative, statistical analysis to bear on the study of the history of early Christian expansion. The description of the 'triumph' of Christianity, Stark argues, is incomplete, indeed unscientific, without the utilization of quantitative methods. "A major purpose of this book," writes Stark, "is to demonstrate that quantitative methods can help to resolve many debates about early church history" (22). He explains the book attempts "to identify adequate, quantifiable indicators of key concepts and then to properly test important hypotheses" (22, emphasis original). In so doing, the chapters of the book "will attempt to place the rise of Christianity within the appropriate social and cultural contexts, but they will do so in a more fully social scientific way than as ever been attempted" (22). Although the book is a provocative protreptic exercise, the book ultimately fails to convince because the author has not understood the pitfalls of the field he attempts to address.

Define Irony

iro-ny... 3 a (1): incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result (2): an event or result marked by such incongruity.

So as I was walking from the bookstore to class, I saw a man at the end of the courtyard giving out books. Since I am a sucker for free books, I decided to walk in that direction. As I was approaching the vicinity of the gentleman I thought to myself, "Well, if it's another Bible, I'll pass--I've got plenty of those as it is!" As I drew nearer, the man thrust a handsome paperback my way and said "Origin of Species. One hundred fiftieth anniversary." "Well," said I, "I've already got one, but why not?" The evolutionists are handing out their Bibles now, I thought. As I walked away with my new copy of Darwin's classic I noticed something unusual, however, about this copy. "Introduction by Ray Comfort." Ray Comfort, Ray Comfort. I'm sure I know that name from somewhere. That right! He's the guy who wrote the very popular book on evangelism, Hell's Best Kept Secret. WHAAA? He wrote an introduction for Darwin's Origin of Species, and is encouraging people to hand out the book to college kids? Define irony.

So I opened the book to the epigraphs, all of them about free enquiry and education. Alongside quotes by Darwin, Scopes, and W. R. Thompson, is this representative nugget from some survey (which we are told was agreed upon by 84% of college graduates): "Teachers and students should have the academic freedom to discuss both the strengths and weaknesses of evolution as a scientific theory." Ok. So this is about not censoring Darwin. But wait, from a Christian evangelist?

So I opened the book further to the introduction and began reading. After a brief outline of Darwin's life and the very basic contours of the argument of the book, Comfort gradually offers a series of critiques of Darwin's work. He begins with soft criticism based on DNA mapping, which Darwin could not have possibly known about. The criticism raises in pitch with the discussion of transitional forms and the so-called missing link between humans and chimpanzees. Swiftly the discussion moves toward advocating for (you might have guessed by now) an Intelligent Designer. The slippery slope gets even more slippery when Comfort starts "revealing" the racism and sexism of social Darwinism, and reaches a climax with Adolf Hitler's affinity for Darwin (the heading for that section: "His Famous Student"). Comfort scales the rhetoric back a bit and comforts his audience by reminding them that Darwin was not, after all, an atheist (implied: so you shouldn't be, either). He empathizes: "So if I was [sic] an atheist, I would see that I have an intellectual dilemma." It's ok. You're a poor, misguided atheist. Let me explain something that makes more logical sense. Naturally, he then proceeds to outline an evangelical message, topping it all of with an altar-call: "To receive the gift of eternal life, you must repent of your sins (turn from them), and put on the Lord Jesus Christ as you would put on a parachute--trusting in Him alone for your salvation. ...Do it right now because you don't know when you will take that leap through the door of death. Confess your sins to God, put your trust in Jesus to save you, and you will pass from death to life. You have God's promise on it."

Now, I think all of this is basically correct. But I seriously doubt this amounts to a more logical frame of mind. How do you define irony? Well, expecting to receive a Bible, but then actually receiving (what is often considered) an atheist's bible--and that book actually ends up quoting the Bible. Yeah. I'd say that pretty well covers it.

So if you haven't read Darwin yet, keep your eyes out for people giving away free books. It might not be what you expect, but irony is meant to be enjoyed.

Imperial Christianity?

I just looked back at my earlier post about "Constantinian" Christianity. In my comment to a reader, I lamented the construction of a sort of edifice of "anti-imperial" Christianity (popular in post-Evangelical and emerging circles). The important part of that comment is the parenthetical remark that wonders what that means in our current context.

So, here's a question. How do we live a kind of Christianity that is subversive of Empire if there is no emperor? I mean, an Empire is a political system ostensibly directed and in some ways constituted by the necessary component of the emperor. Without an emperor what do we have? Either anarchy (which is certainly not the case currently--indeed, even the early church couldn't countenance anarchy [I shouldn't have to mention the authority of the apostles in the early church]), or some other form of government--oligarchy, democracy, etc. Now, we Americans live in a democratic republic of sorts, not an actual empire. So, it seems, the language of Empire is extended to the so-called 1st-world West--the colonial powers. But the late-capitalist system (that a great many of us agree is a problem) has grown beyond such powers and has taken on a trans-national character. In other words, if it is an empire, it is an empire without a (visible) emperor. Indeed, it seems to be anarchy--or perhaps better, feudalism between competing corporations. So what are we to do? We cannot assassinate the emperor. I'm wondering if a better solution would be to use the political system against the (currently) unjust economic order. Instead of conflating the two in America, I think Christians might do well to recognize that the political sphere is still malleable (as I think, ironically, the Tea Party has shown), and this is a remarkably fertile place to stage resistance to this faceless "empire." I'm not saying it would be easy. I'm saying it might be more responsible. "Shoplifters of the world, unite and take over."

What's all the fuss about?

So, about a week ago the Vatican released the official Apostolic Constitution Anglicanorum Coetibus. The annoucement of this AC caused a great deal of consternation and much ire all over the blogosphere. I'm not entirely sure why. Now, Hans Kueng has offered what I think is probably the best critical comments, but even his take is only one side of the story. Reading the actual text, I find very little to be critical of. As a previous blogger (sorry, lost the link) continues to remind people--the Pope is (Roman) Catholic. We should not be surprised if he does things or says things that generally are in accord with Roman doctrine. Sure, he doesn't have the same finesse as JPII, but B16 is not the devil, or even an evil man, so far as I can tell. He's the shepherd of the largest Christian communion, and in accord with Roman doctrine he also sees himself as the vicar of Christ, the shepherd of the world. Not saying he's correct to think so, but I am saying we probably shouldn't be surprised if he acts on that notion.

All (constructive) thoughts welcome.

DeConick vs. National Geographic: Round 2?

This post is very good. April DeConick famously protested against the characterization, translation, and publicization of the Gospel of Judas a couple of years back. Now she's concerned about their take on the Apocalypse of Gabriel.

I'll try to add background links when I have some more time.

Musings on 'Constantinianism'

A few days ago I was reading Shane Claiborne's inspiring book, The Irresistible Revolution. I love Shane. He's a great guy doing really good things in the world and for the church. But as a historian of early Christianity and as a theologian, I had to sit up in my Amtrak coach seat a bit when I read this footnote on page 106:

For many, the fourth-century reign of Constantine, the first Christian emperor, marks a significant point in church history. With the messy marriage of imperial power and the Christian cross, the Jesus movement shifted from persecuted to persecutor. Constantine flung open the door of the church to the rich and powerful, but it was at a great cost. Repentance, rebirth, and conversion were exchanged for cheap grace, and the very identity of what it meant to be a disciple of Jesus was lost. People joined the church in droves, but Christian disciples were hard to come by.

This is a sentiment common to many young theologians, especially students. But it is marvelously simplistic. That should not need saying, and yet it does. Certainly the Edict of Toleration, and the later complete approbation of Christianity by Constantine is one of the most (if not the most) pivotal time in the history of Christianity in the world. Just as certainly 'the marriage of imperial power and the Christian cross' was 'messy'. Can we be so certain that cheap grace abounded, or that 'true' disciples of Jesus were in short supply? Can we be so sure that Eusebius' assessment of the triumph of Christianity is not just as accurate? Without Constantine would Christianity have gone the way of our Eastern (monophysite) brothers and sisters (for which, see Philip Jenkins wonderful new book, The Lost History of Christianity)? Would we have Bibles to lead us into the simple Way?

All of this ignores one simple fact: the churchis not ever and always bound to one form, not even the forms of the earliest communities. We have enough information about the misunderstandings of the original Twelve in the gospels, and the infelicities of certain Christians (even Peter and the agents of James) from Paul's letters, to know that the earliest communities were not perfect in the way, either, and that there was plenty of power-grabbing even then (in Corinth, for instance). Neither did it shy away from imperial language (kyrios, basileia, oikonomia) to describe its purposes and goals. This was not anti-imperial rhetoric, but counter-imperial rhetoric. Constantine was merely fulfilling the language used by the earliest communities by attempting to realize that kindgom on earth. Although that was perhaps a foolishly conceited move, 'constantinianism' was not an Antichristic act of evil, so much as a (perhaps ill-devised, ill-advised) radical gesture of faith. Talk about sinning boldly!

More importantly still, we should not forget that although it looks significantly different both from the Gospel-Acts portrait of the earliest communities and from the communities of ordinary radicals today, Jesus still showed up, and the people in the churches were still Christians--ugly, sinful, redeemed, beautiful Christians. Repentance, rebirth, and conversion were actually replaced with repentance, responsibility, and confession. Who are we to judge so quickly the unusual decisions of Christians from uncommon and unfamiliar times?

Why is this at all important? We American Christians (along with all 'first-world' Christians) live in Constantinian times, whether we like it or not, and we have inherited the same responsibilities with which they were saddled. We have political, economic, and social power. We must decide what to do with it. Will we bury it, hide it in a hole in the ground like the unwise servant (Matt 25.24-29), or will we sin boldly, learning from the mistakes of our Byzantine Roman forbears? Their problems are our problems (complacency, the reconciliation of power and love, the threats of social collapse and its implications for the faith). We need to acknowledge the Constantinian church because we cannot go back to Acts, but we must not repeat the sins of Constantinian church. If we fear and ignore the Constantinian church by our maledictions upon her, it may indeed be our fate to become her, with all of her many sins.

Moving...and then?

Alright, so working often, planning a wedding, and not having home internet for most of that time makes for bad blogging. I recognize that. But I hope to be back up and blogging soon, since my beautiful bride and I are moving to Virginia, where I will begin my doctoral studies in the Judaism and Christianity in Antiquity program.

After six (yes, six!) years of applications, I am so excited to be doing what I love, with the woman that I love, and a place that is definitely lovable.

More reports to come.

I hope.

Farrer on form and content of early Christianity

After mentioning 'the common hypothesis' that the transformation of images of the Old Testament that flowered in Christianity originated not with Jesus, but with his disciples, Farrer brilliantly observes,

This elaborate and uneconomical supposition was the product of a prejudice which ought to outworn now. It was supposed that the Christian Faith could be divided into two parts, a vital content of ethical spirituality, and a mythological or theological frame constructed to set it off and give it emphasis. The spirituality, as being the primary fact and real motive cause, was then assigned to Christ; the theology could naturally be left to accumulate round it in the course of the Church's life. We shall not now accept such a distinction as corresponding with historical realities. It is, no doubt, always the pressing concern of religion to seek after and seize its own vital essence and spiritual centre, but that is a poor reason for supposing that spirituality came naked into the world, or could exist without the images which condition it. (14)

I couldn't resist inserting this marvelously worded gem, either:

Symbol endeavours, as it were, to be that of which it speaks, and imitates reality by the multiplicity of its significance. ...There is a current and exceedingly stupid doctrine that symbol evokes emotion, and exact prose states reality. Nothing could be further from the truth: exact prose abstracts from reality, symbol presents it. And for that very reason, symbols have some of the many-sidedness of wild nature. (19-20)

Brilliant.

SBL 2008

Where has the time gone? Now that I have effectively alienated probably all of my readers by not posting in many, many moons, I have returned to say...well, not much.

I'm in Boston, at a youth hostel surprisingly crowded with SBL attendees.

After four years away from SBL (or is it five?), I've come to Boston to meet, greet and buy books. Oh yeah, and to hear papers. ...I guess.

As I arrived in Boston, I couldn't help but notice all of the scholarly types trying to remain incognito on the train and in the airport. I thought of announcing, "The historical-critical method of biblical exegesis is obsolete!" Just to watch the sparks fly. Ok, let's be honest the most I would get is a chuckle followed by many embarrassed looks from scholars who, in an academic setting, would ordinarily be the first to either outline the correctness of my observation or descry the shaky theoretical foundations on which I would make such a methodological presumption.

We are an odd tribe, but here we all are, taking over Back Bay and weirding out the hostel kids.

As I promised, that's all I've got--not much. Maybe this will get the wheels turning over here since my PhD applications are now in. Maybe not. In the meantime, the phoenix has arisen from oblivion to regale you with tales of Biblical geekdom. Um...sorry.

Elshtain on the bonds of civic affection

"Auden writes of 'blind skyscrapers' that 'use Their full height to proclaim/The strength of Collective Man.' I have a contrary thought. Skyscrapers are about power, no doubt. But they are also about freedom, and ingenuity, and beauty. They are not about the strength of an indistinguishable collective, but about the combined power of many men and women. There is something exhilarating about reaching for the stars, so long as we do not become presumptuous about achieving godlikeness. Totalitarian regimes do not aim high. They build squat prisons and block houses. They build execution walls.

"'We must love one another or die,' Auden tells us, finally. We cannot love one another--not in the sense in which Auden meant it--if we are locked indoors and afraid to venture forth. We must 'Show an affirming flame.' It is called hope. It is one of the great theological virtues. But it is also a democratic virtue linked to coming to grips with the reality of what we face and responding appropriately--whether through forceful interdiction or peaceful assembly. We must stop those who would harm us and go about our business, meeting and greeting one another, for 'we must love one another or die.' September 11 showed us that we are bound by civic affection. All else about that terrible day must pale with the passage of time. But that remains."

Jean Bethke Elshtain, Just War Against Terror (New York: Basic, 2003), p. 181.

Elshtain, Billy Graham, 9/11

"Finally, the Reverend Billy Graham, dean of American evangelism, reminded us of the fog of history's unfolding in his remarks at the service in the National Cathedral for the National Day of Prayer and Remembrance on September 14, 2001. Reverend Graham insisted that he did not know the answer to why God allows tragedy, and that there is a mystery at the heart of this question. September 11 did teach some lessons, however--lessons about 'the mystery of iniquity and evil, but, secondly, it's a lesson about our need for each other,' and in this need lies hope. This may be the only true Christian message to have come out of the horror of that day--a message of hope and human solidarity."

Jean Bethke Elshtain, Just War Against Terror (New York: Basic, 2003), p. 123.