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Monday, September 30, 2024

A tricky Bible passage

Yesterday, for a 150th celebration of a church, our readings included Epehsians 4:1-14 (i.e. not the usual lectionary epistle reading).

In this passage, verses 7-14 discuss the grace of God given to each of us, focusing on gifts that mean that some of us are apostles, prophet, evangelists, teachers and pastors, all for the purpose of equipping the saints so that the body of Christ is built up. If that were all there was to the passage it would be, in the light of passages about ministry gifts, such as Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12, unremarkable in its straightforward proposal that God helps the church through the gifts of the Spirit.

But Paul (or the disciple of Paul) who writes this passage introduces a Scripture-based reason for asserting that Christ gifts the church by writing in verse 8,

'Therefore it is said, "When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people".'

There is no dispute that Psalm 68:18 is being cited in this verse.

Therein lies the problem, the trickiness to which the title of this post refers, because this is how Psalm 68:18 reads:

"You ascended the high mount, leading captives in your train and receiving gifts from people, even from those who rebel against the Lord God's abiding there."

Even when we turn to the Greek Old Testament (LXX) where we find a version close to what is being cited in Ephesians (here citing The Bible translated by Nicholas King), we are still challenged:

"You have gone up on high; you have taken captivity captive; you have received gifts among humans; for they were disobeient in pitching their tents."

Paul says, citing this verse, that it talks proleptically about Christ giving gifts to humanity. The verse itself, in either the Hebrew or Greek versions familiar to New Testament writers, as far as is generally the case across New Testament writings, talks proleptically about Christ receiving gifts from humanity.

Giving does not equal receiving. This is a challenge for Biblical scholars to explain!

Look up any commentary and you will find interesting, clever attempts to explain how A = B. Essentially, the best explanation is that Paul is citing an unknown version of the passage (which does exist via the Syriac Peshitta or the Aramaic Targums, but these likely date later than Ephesians). If he is doing this, then there remains the oddity that he is "pick and mixing" his versions of the Psalms to suit his expositional cause. It is, incidentally, simpler to assume that Paul is simply making of Psalm 68:18 what he wishes - anticipating, so to speak, what later versions will also do (perhaps influenced by Paul's exegetical bravado?).

But in turn, this means, on any reckoning of how Paul got from "receive" to "give", that he employs the Old Testament in support of his "New Testament" theology in a fairly free manner (whether he himself is being free or he finds help from others who have been free) - where "free" means comfortable to adjust and adapt the text before him to suit current purposes.

Generally speaking in today's modern world we who count ourselves as respectable in respect of the role of serious biblical study in preparation of expositional materials such as sermons look in great askance at preachers etc who are as "free" as Paul himself seems to have been with scriptural texts!

Now we could, time permitting, which it is not, head down various interesting roads of reflection on Ephesians 4:8/Psalm 68:18 in respect of the Bible and how it came into being, reflecting on the Bible’s quirkiness if not its trickiness at various points in its creation and composition.

My one reflection in this post is that Scripture is a complex set of writings. We may need to both accept that as a fact and respect it as a fact with implications for how we understand Scripture as inspired, sacred writings.

Paul was human!

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Evangelism is hard in the Western world

Recently I have had access to the Australian Church Record, specifically the [Sydney] Synod 2024 issue.

On pp. 3ff is an article "Attendance Decline Report."

It discusses a report going to the Diocese of Sydney Synod which addresses the matter of a decline in attendance across Sydney Anglican churches, summarised thus:

"The report itself is clear in its major findings. Across the 436 Church Centres that existed within the Diocese between 2013 to 2023, the overall adult attendance declined in raw percentage numbers by 6.7%, or by 14.4% when you consider population growth."

In part the article proposes the Synod is honest about the statistics. In part the article notes that statistics always need some delving into. In another part the article encourages ministry leaders to be faithful - God measures our faithfulness and not our attendance statistics. Amen. Amen. Amen.

But something the article does not reflect on is this. The Sydney Anglican diocese has good form, whether through its leadership boycotting Lambeth Conferences and the like, or leading individuals who tell the rest of the Anglican world whether it is "faithful" to the Gospel or not, "orthodox" or not, and truly "biblical" or not. Implied in such claims, of course, is that on the side of such claims is impressive attendance statistics: look, we're right and have the numbers to prove it; you're wrong and your attendance figures show what a lost (liberal/progressive/whatever) cause you are (mistakenly) following.

Now, it is very true that Sydney Anglicans have very impressive attendance figures relative to other Australian Anglican dioceses. It is also very true that there are forms of Christianity which are not cutting the attendance mustard in the modern or post-modern Western world: genuinely "liberal" or "progressive" congregations are hurting with falling numbers.

But this decline in Sydney Anglican attendances suggests a bit of reflection, beyond what the article envisages, as to what the nature of the Gospel is in the ever changing face of Western society. If the Sydney version is not growing the church, if its best claim is (say) that it is declining less rapidly than other dioceses hereabouts, then is there not a question whether we (Sydney as well as the rest of us) are all missing an acute, adept, adapted understanding of the Gospel which will win a hearing and secure a growing church in the 21st century?

Might we, further, continue our common quest to find what the Gospel is for this day and age without the rancour of lobbing claims about (un)faithful, (un)orthodox, (un)biblical, etc at each other. Instead of lobbing theological grenades, might we humbly continue dialogue within ourselves and, indeed, dialogue with our Western society as to the meaning of the Gospel for today?

Evangelism is hard in the Western world. The Sydney stats bear this out - they undergird what other dioceses know only too well. It is tough out there to share the Gospel in a post-Christian world - a world which operates on the basis that Christianity has come, produced mixed results in society, and thankfully is on its way out. (That same post-Christian world has not come up with anything which much improves on the Christian gospel as a basis for a just, kind and grace-filled society!)

Amidst all the turmoil in Western Christianity (e.g. how have we become so confused that we think Trump is a saviour and eschewing vaccines is cutting edge discipleship?) we need - as faithful, orthodox, biblical Christians - to continue working on what the Gospel is for our world.

In the first century, the earliest Christians managed to:

- change the Aramaic preaching of Jesus into four differing Gospel narratives written in Greek

- shift gear from agrarian Galilee oriented parables to engagement with Hellenistic philosophy (e.g. 1 Corinthians, Hebrews)

- reflect on what the Jewish Jesus's gospel's common ground with contemporary Judaism(s) was and what was distinctive about it as Jews and Jewish Christians worked through the meaning of Jesus Christ's teaching, life, death and resurrection (e.g. Romans, Galatians)

- rework Jewish apocalyptic literature such as Daniel, resisting the encroachment of Hellenism as a culture and Hellenistic imperialism as anti-Israel's God, into Revelation which resisted the encroachment of Roman imperialism in both economic domination and idolatrous practices by proclaiming the kingdom of God and Christ.

In the second and third centuries, the next generations of Christians took the engagement with and, as appropriate, adaptation of Hellenistic philosophy several steps further in the quest to spread the Gospel message.

Naturally there were many intra Christian disputes and dramas along the way of that working out of the meaning of the Gospel for the ancient world of the Mediterranean region (e.g. Romans, Galatians, Hebrews, the writings of (e.g.) Tertullian and Origen express such disputes). We are having disputes and dramas today. But, just maybe, recognising that we Anglicans are all struggling re attendances, we could turn the dial down a bit and work on dialogue as a way forward rather than dispute?

Monday, September 16, 2024

Can Pope Francis be saved (from himself)?

Postscript: This article, by Charles Caputt, pretty much raises my concerns below. One concern I do not raise which is worth careful thought, what is the meaning of martyrdom, if all relgions are equally valid pathways to God?

Original Post:

Why ask, Can Pope Francis be saved (from himself)?

I noticed a series of X/Tweets a couple of days ago [below], highlighting something Francis has said in Singapore (a melting pot place of faiths) about all ways leading to God.

1. The statement as cited is pretty unnuanced around Christianity being one way rather than the way or the highway into which other faiths are feeder roads.

2. Edward Feser, a sharp (and Catholic) critic of "sloppy" Catholic thinking raises the question whether Francis has spoken correctly in accordance with doctrine.

3. A respondent cites the Catechism in defence of Francis.

However that response still places the Gospel as the pathway to salvation, other faiths potentially being preparations for the Gospel being received.

A few observations from me:

Francis has form in saying things which receive quite a lot of reaction from a doctrinal perspective (notably in relation to human sexuality). Whether we think it helpful or not, this is part of the style of his papacy.

Is it reasonable to expect Francis to stop speaking publicly in ways which prompt criticism from within his own church? Probably not!

Is it reasonable to expect a church leader to speak in ways which conform to the doctrine of that leader's church? Yes.

There is a dilemma for current Catholic adherence to the teaching (informal, formal, let alone "infallible") of Francis as present incumbent as Pope.

To be honest, I am closer to Feser than to Francis on the issue at hand. We honour Jesus Christ when we point to what is distinctive about him (his life, death, teaching) and from that point of view both find everything that is good in other faiths (and, indeed, in the approaches to life of non-religious humanism etc) and all that is fulfilled within those faiths and -isms in Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour.

The consistent approach of the New Testament writers is to present Jesus Christ as true God among many surrounding claimants to be gods (Roman gods, Greek gods, Roman emperors) and true fulfilment of all prophecies voiced among the scriptures of Israel. 

Further, the cumulative approach of the New Testament is that Jesus Christ reshapes who the God of Israel is: in Jesus we see and through Jesus (and his apostle) we hear the final, fullest revelation of God. Religions which speak of a way to God which is not through Jesus Christ speak of a "God" who is never exactly the God who reveals God's self in and through Jesus Christ.

This leads to a further note about what Francis is reported as saying: Yes, all religions (in one manner or another), are paths to God, but religions are also revelations of God reaching out to humanity: in which revelation do we find that divine reach to us drenched in love, full of mercy, expressed in sacrifice of God himself that we might live forever?

I can only think of one such revelation.







Monday, September 9, 2024

A small reflection on the difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament

On Thursday night last week we held a Diocesan service - A Liturgy of Lament - in our Transitional Cathedral. The text of the Liturgy is here. This post is intentionally not a reflection on the whole of the service nor on responses to the service, save to see that many people commented to me on how moved they were by it.

One aspect of the service to be reflected on here: a small group worked care-fully and creatively on the content of the service. The following readings were chosen.

Psalm 13

Lamentations 5:1, 14-22 (Prior to a Litany of Confession) 

Isaiah 58:5-11 (in the second part of the service, The Beginnings of Hope).

My reflection is simply that when I asked myself what New Testament reading might have been chosen, I could not think of one. There is not much by way of lament in the New Testament. Although Isaiah influences some passages in the New Testament about a new beginning in being a just people, none offers the length and depth of the Isaiah passage chosen.

On the one hand, this observation serves to reinforce the general tenor of the New Testament: it is the announcement of the Good News of God's salvation, of new life now and forever for the world.

On the other hand, our liturgy is a powerful reminder that the Old Testament is ever relevant to the whole of life, and, in this case, especially to its darkest and most troubling aspects.

Postscript: In the wider Anglican world this week ...

1. An extraordinary, unusual story about a newly appointed CofE bishop's recent episcopal eye-brow raising role in an ordination in Germany.

2. The Observer has a profile on a new book by Diarmaid MacCulloch. It is called Lower Than the Angels: A History of Sex and Christianity. It looks at least ... provocative!

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

The Abbey

I am still learning how to be wise. On Friday I went away for a three day weekend, Friday night to Sunday at El Rancho, Waikanae for The Abbey, a national Anglican youth leaders and young adults event, and then onto Auckland for a night (family) and day (various appointments) trip. I thought I could put a decent out of office message on my email and travel lightly electronically - including no laptop.

My (less than wise) bad. A stretch of important emails threaded into my Inbox including some attached documents to read - challenging when no laptop on hand!

Also, tricky to post a blog post per usual on Mondays. Now on laptop ... but it is Tuesday.

The Abbey was a lovely event - about 250 people present - from different parts of our church, though most from the Wellington, Nelson and Christchurch diocesan regions.

Main speakers were Lillian Murray, Dallas Hareama and Lorna Gray. There were lots of workshops facilitated by experts in many fields. Great MCs and an excellent band (co-ordinated by Paul Hegglun, a member of our Diocesan Ministry Team).

Thank you everyone!

One way to review such an event is to pose the question, What gave me hope?

Two things stand out in answering that question.

1. That we have in our church a wonderful group of people aged well below my age (!!) who love God, love the church and want to reach their communities with the Good News.

2. This group (along, of course, with many others) are very, very comfortable with a bicultural expression of our faith in Christ. Most of the songs we sang at The Abbey were in English and Te Reo. Quite a bit of the content of the plenary addresses was about how we who identify as Pakeha can fully engage in our bicultural society. 

If only some of our politicians could see this way of being Kiwi in action and worry less about removing Te Reo words from ministerial letters and road signs!