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!

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?

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.

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!

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!

Does Anyone See Anything Coming? (Reflection on the Treaty of Waitangi)

In another world of conversation recently, the question came up, in my words, Why didn't evangelical historians see ahead and predict the emergence of Trump and evangelical support for him? There are some obvious answers about that: historians look back not forward; history never repeats itself exactly; since when was it a moral indictment on an historian to not also be a clairvoyant?!

A simple case in point involves Trump himself in the past month or so: suppose you had predicted ten or twenty years ago that a Trump would burst onto the US political scene and [many] evangelicals would swoon at his anti-abortionist feet. Well done you! But would you have predicted this year's turn of events in which Trump has suddenly and (as far as I can tell) unexpectedly changed tunes on abortion, stating a position closer to the centre of US politics, and pretty obviously designed to pick up (if possible) a bunch of votes otherwise likely unavailable to him in November. Cue angst and dilemma for a section of US Christian (Protestant and Catholic) pro-life voters: where does the lesser of two "evils" now lie when going into the polling booth?

Down Under, have we ever seen what is coming in respect of relations between Maori and Pakeha?

Marsden in 1814 could have foreseen the arrival of European settlers. He would not have foreseen the Treaty of Waitangi in the form it actually took.

The Treaty itself was the outcome of a variety of hugely interesting factors, from the local (the role of the likes of Bushby, Hobson, the Williams' family, Maori chiefs) to the wider movement of people (the interests of and interests by British, French, American settlers, sailors and sealers in carving out better lives through farming and trading), to the distantly international considerations of the British offices of state overseeing colonial developments and how they were, in their view, often a deeply evangelical Christian view, best shaped and supported by agreements such as the Treaty of Waitangi - all admirably told in various histories of our Treaty, most recently in respect of "big books" by Ned Fletcher, The English Text of the Treaty of Waitangi, and in terms of "small books" by Alistair Reese in He Tatou Pounamu .

I think I am right in saying that on 6 February 1840, no one signing the Treaty in with the English or Maori versions could see coming some 135 years later [1975], through till the present, and, no doubt beyond today, that having the Treaty in two versions would be highly controversial!

Also on that day, I assume that what the signers assumed was that the Treaty would be a document acknowledged appropriately as European settlement of Aotearoa developed through the decades ahead. Not so. Fairly quickly the Treaty was ignored. Its relevance to the settlement of our country died away as the document settled into a comfortable (for the settlers and their political leaders) existence in the bottom of the bottom drawer of the Premier's desk!

At the lowest point in the general fortunes of Maori (when illness decimated numbers of Maori in the late 19th century), no one foresaw the reviving of the relevance of the Treaty in 1975, let alone the revival of the number of Maori in our society (so that the general reckoning now is that 1 million of 5 million NZers identify as Maori).

And that initial reviving of the fortunes of the Treaty as a foundation document of our nation, through the establishment of the Waitangi Tribunal, was not in 1975 a predictor of how as a society, including churches, educational institutions, local and central government, and departments of such governments, we would develop principles of the Treaty to guide us in giving effect to the Treaty. Or, more simply, that we would make actual big strides as a bicultural nation. We are far from becoming what the Treaty envisaged we might be; but we have moved on a long way from days when Maori were refused entry to some pubs and public facilities, and when we would go along with South African requests not to bring "coloured" players on All Black tours to that country. 

We do, of course, see that in 2040 we have opportunity to celebrate 200 years of the Treaty. Sixteen years to make further progress? Sixteen years to wind back the clock (per current machinations by the ACT Party)? While I am committed to not winding the clock of history backwards, I am not going to make a prediction about where we will be in 2040. (I would be 80 by then, so I am not even predicting I will be alive to ruminate on the state of Aotearoa New Zealand in that year!!)

Although last week's ADU post was not directly about the Treaty, a long string of comments were about the Treaty and related matters of relationship between Maori and Pakeha. The following are some ruminations on such matters (but not intended to be a point by point response to points made in the thread of comments).

There is no definitive understanding of the Treaty, there may never be, but there is a definitive state of affairs, namely, the present situation we face as a nation, as a society, as a series of community and whanau networks, and we have a choice to face the present with the Treaty informing us and influencing us, or to sideline it, to put it back into the bottom of the bottom drawer of the Prime Minister's desk. Like many - I suggest most - Kiwis, I think it better to keep on working out the meaning of the Treaty for life today, than to give up, to seek some other basis for how we honour and respect one another as the mix of indigenous and non-indigenous people that we are.

Nevertheless, even if there is no single definitive understanding of the Treaty, there are claims as understandings which are at best unhelpful and at worst injurious to our moving forward as a nation to a better state of affairs than we currently experience.

One such claim is the notion that the Treaty makes us all "equal" with the consequence that there should be no special advantage to Maori as measured by, say, some medical treatments being available to Maori ahead of Pakeha, or some other forms of material assistance in life. This is an odd claim to make when on a bunch of significant statistics, from prison population to academic achievement to life expectancy, it is very clear that in the warp and woof of life and how it unfolds for each NZer, Maori are not treated equally. Perhaps when we are statistically equal we could propose that everyone, irrespective of racial/cultural identity, is treated "equally." In the meantime we have a long way to go and we are only just beginning to understand the effects of colonization on Maori - let alone how those effects might be undone.

Another claim being advanced today is that the Treaty amounts to nothing more than property rights: I as a Pakeha have rights as to how I use and what I do on my suburban city property; a Maori (individual, whanau, hapu, iwi) also have property rights for lands and waterways to which there is clear title. But - the kicker - that is all: stay out of attempts to co-govern, say, the quality of water in the rivers of Canterbury; do not aspire to have specific Maori representation on city and district councils; and so forth. There is a lot to discuss about the meaning of the Treaty, and we may never settle on one single, agreed definition of what the Treaty means for each nook and cranny of these islands, but there is agreement by most scholars - historians, legal boffins - that the Treaty is not reducible to property rights. We need - I suggest - an approach to the Treaty which respects and assists Maori seeking to be Maori.

On Saturday I was at a bicultural event in one of the pa of the Canterbury district. A Maori leader made the simple point about this particular place (calling it a "reservation" - reserved from being for sale to settlors): It has allowed Maori to be Maori. How might our approach to understanding and applying the Treaty do this across our nation?

There are lots of questions to ask, discuss and find answers to. There are and will be proposals that need testing. For instance, also over the weekend, I saw a social media post along these lines: In institution X, a law professor teaches that there are and always have been two legal systems, Maori and Pakeha; this is a bad thing because there must be one law for all, and only one law for all. This sounds like something that needs testing: there can be two legal systems within one nation (the church has canons!!!!!!!), but can there be two wholly parallel systems without one system being available to appeal to when within either system a matter needs a final arbitration? (Even the church operates within its constitution and canons on the basis that potentially an appeal can be made to the secular legal system.)

Similarly, as we discuss concepts of sovereignty/rangitiratanga/kawanatanga, can we find a way to a single parliament within which are two houses, Maori and Pakeha, with all important decisions being agreed by both houses? The Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia has something to offer on this possibility.

Yesterday I spoke at a service on Micah 6:6-8, the threefold summary (in my view) of all the teaching in the OT: do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God.

At the heart of all debates on the Treaty, can we Christians engaging in the quest for the meaning and application of the Treaty today press for justice to be done and kindness to be shown? To do otherwise is incompatible with walking humbly with our God, is it not?

Might we be open to futures we cannot yet see which fulfil intentions in the Treaty and requirements of Scripture?

Postscript: a different topic

Also in the thread of comments to last week's post, this comment was made:

"People don’t go to Church anymore because they simply do not believe in the supernatural - outstanding claims require outstanding evidence. People need to be taught the deeper meanings within scripture if any form of Christianity is to survive. Science has beaten back the grey haired man in the sky that parts seas and raises the dead."

No doubt this is so for many people, even though I hardly ever hear people frankly express such explanation for non-involvement in church. People are polite!

Yes, there is "deeper meaning" within Scripture to find and to expound. John himself ensures this is so when he takes the kinds of miracles we now apparently object to (Feeding the 5000, Walking on Water, 6:1-21) and makes them the occasion for Jesus to offer "deeper meaning" about himself as the bread from heaven.

But may we so deftly set aside all testimonies to the supernatural within Scripture, whether Parting the Red Sea or Walking on Water, Healing the Sick or Raising the Dead?

On the one side of this question is the fact that "something(s) happened" which in OT times fuelled Israel's conviction that the "god" of Israel was like no other "gods" and in NT times fuelled Christian conviction that Jesus was more than another itinerant rabbi. Miracles, supernatural acts, call them what you will, were critical to the case advanced, whether in preaching the gospel to Jews or to Gentiles, that God's acts of power in and through Jesus, and supremely in raising him from the dead underscored the claim that Jesus was both son of David and son of God.

On the other side of this question is the result of "deeper meaning" as we engage with Scripture: that God is Being (not just a Supreme Being, or the Supreme Being), the very life and power of the universe able to work within the universe to do marvellous things. The distinction between "nature" and "supernature" can be argued to fade away when we dig deep into the meaning of God as Being itself.

And then, perhaps as a third side of this question, is the matter of many Christians' own testimonies: that the Jesus we have met and who has met us, is precisely the powerful Son of God as well as the vulnerable, mocked, humiliated, executed son of Mary.

A is for Apokatastasis - you knew that!

Quite a bit is going on in my world. Yes, everyone kindly asks me about how I am in the midst of the newest chapter in the story of our Cathedral's Reinstatement (title of the current chapter, "How the Christ Church Cathedral Reinstatement Hit A Large Block On the Way to Completion aka Lack of Funds Underlined By the NZ Government Saying No"). See here for latest Press article and there will be more media interest this Tuesday. But this is a hugely interesting time to be alive, as a citizen of the world and as a theologically-interested citizen of heaven.

For instance, in a world falling apart with climate change, wars and threats of war, economic challenges, Mpox runs around the world, socio-political tensions in some societies and disruption as political winds change - including Aotearoa New Zealand - "from left to right" and "right to left," where are we heading according to the divine plan for the universe? Creation sure is groaning (Romans 8), anti-God forces prevail in too many dicatorships and, some say, in democracies too (Revelation), injustice abounds (Amos), and, in contrast to the sunny gospel-optimism of Acts (the gospel spreads further and further despite setbacks here and there), the gospel is on retreat in parts of the world which not so long ago could glorify in the description "Christendom."

Yet, God's plan, Ephesians 1:10, is for the union of all things in Christ. The 21st century cynic might say, "So, how's that going?" A 21st century Christian might, picking up words from Sunday's epistle, cry to God, "How can we live carefully, making the most of the opportunities of this time, not as wunwise people but as wise?" (riffing on Ephesians 5:15-16).

Such a search for wisdom could take us to X/Twitter, where we find a continuing debate (among many unedifying debates!! And that's just talking about the Christian ones ... :),) about "DBH" or David Bentley Hart, doyen of current Orthodox theologians. In turn, reading there opened up for me a lovely, long (you deserve fair warning) essay by Fr Aidan Kimel on a specific aspect of ancient debate about the union of all things: vitriol over Origen and his reputed errors, including that relating to aspects of the union of everything and everyone in Christ. As Fr Kimel opens up for his readers there was a lot going on in the centuries after Origen did his voluminous theological work.

Fr Aidan Kimel's fascinating exploration of ancient opposition to Origen (my ancient theologian of special interest currently) is found in an article entitled, "Apokatastasis, Origenism, Fifth Ecumenical Council - with a Dash of Theophilus."

It begins with this citation from St. Gregory of Nyssa:

"By uniting us to himself, Christ is our unity; and having become one body with us through all things, he looks after us all. Subjection to God is our chief good when all creation resounds as one voice, when everything in heaven, on earth and under the earth bends the knee to him, and when every tongue will confess that has become one body and is joined in Christ through obedience to one another, he will bring into subjection his own body to the Father.

St Gregory of Nyssa

“The Father of Fathers”"

If this was all apokatastasis refers to, then no particular problems, but apokastasis tends to refer to a specific understanding that this union of all things includes the union of all (or ALL) sinful beings, i.e. universal salvation. Thus Wikipedia:

"In theology, apokatastasis (Greek: ἀποκατάστασις, /æpoʊkəˈtæstəsɪs/, also spelled apocatastasis) is the restoration of creation to a condition of perfection.^[1][2] In Christianity, the term refers to a form of Christian universalism, often associated with Origen, that includes the ultimate salvation of everyone—including the damned and the Devil.^[3][4][5] The New Testament (Acts 3:21) speaks of the "apokatastasis of all things," although this passage is not usually understood to teach universal salvation.^[6] The dogmatic status of apokatastasis is disputed,^[7] and some orthodox fathers such as Gregory of Nyssa taught apokatastasis and were never condemned.^[8]"

Gregory of Nyssa, like some All Blacks scoring their tries on Saturday night, glides his way past potential opposition. Origen not so much. As Fr Kimel points out, there was a very complicated political calculus going on in the ancient opposition to Origen. Try this for a flavour:

"Theophilus’ quick acceptance of the mob’s demand to denounce the writings of Origen raises questions. Did he have a St Paul conversion moment?—not likely, though cowardly duplicity cannot be totally dismissed. Did he always strongly object to Origen and is only now, under the threat of violence, revealing his true colors?—probably not. Theophilus would resume his opposition to anthropomorphism just a few years later. Or is he shrewdly exploiting the crowd’s disdain for Origen to advance his own ecclesial and political agendas?—ding! ding! ding! Now that sounds like the Theophilus we have all come to know and love.

So why was this moment the catalyst for Theophilus’ sudden and intense campaign against Origen? Because, Russell suggests, the leaders of the pro-Origen faction (specifically the Four Tall Brothers, as well as a priest and former confidant of Theophilus named Isidore) had become painful pebbles in the patriarch’s sandals. He shrewdly saw that by methodically attacking the orthodoxy of Origen, he might well strengthen his position in Nitria, effect the departure of Origenists from Egypt, and establish within the monastic communities a theological orthodoxy free from the influence of Origen and Evagrius Ponticus."

Anyway, just to be clear: this post is not arguing for or against universal salvation (it is not something finally settled in my mind). But it is arguing for us humans, especially us Christian humans, to work for the unity of all things, rather than for the disunity of many things.

On the way to a better Christian political outlook, I like this review by Stephen Driscoll on John Sandeman's The Other Cheek of Sydney theologian Rev. Dr. Michael Jensen's latest book, Subjects and Citizens The Politics of the Gospel: Lessons from Romans 12–15. The review is much shorter than Fr Kimel's article!

Finally, for now, looking at disunity in society, and hoping for unity, especially here in Aotearoa New Zealand, Damien Grant has some pertinent things to say about our tortured present re Maori-Pakeha relationships, under the gaze of the Treaty of Waitangi, the torture deepened by the Act Party's attempt to define "principles" of the Treaty.

I like the note he strikes in his concluding paragraph - there is one enduring principle we could perhaps all agree on:

"The enduring principle that we should take from 1840 was the willingness of both parties to seek creative and enduring solutions to what looked to be intractable difficulties. That required courage, wisdom, and a determined focus on what could be rather than an obsessive focus on past grievances."

Postscript: if none of the above draws you into reading and reflection, then try this interesting piece on the limitations of marriage metaphors in Scripture, by Kate Keefe. Not sure that I agree with her - metaphors invite us to think about the meaning of things (in this case our relationship as Christians, as church with God, with Christ) as much as they prompt us to think about the limitations of particular metaphors.