Sean the Baptist

Radical Gospel Library

This site contains a number of interesting looking articles, some of which are unpublished, by the likes of Cavanaugh, Ellul, Hauerwas, Milbank,Yoder, Mccarthy-Matzko.  This is the blurb:

The library contains radical and subversive writings by several prominent Christian theologians.The work here reflects the alien nature of following Christ, and being a people in exile, "living out of control". These theologians are challenging the standard reading of the bible and Christ presented in todays mainstream establishments. Their writings are uncompromising and threatening to the cheap theology characteristic of the North American Church.

If you are interested in radical, political theology (and even if you aren't but think you ought to be) then go and take a browse.  H/T Ben Myers.

Good News From SBL

Following the recent announcement from the American Academy of Religion regarding their annual meetings, the following announcement has come trough from the Society for Biblical Literature: the change of heart at AAR is one that I, and I know many others, welcome.

We are pleased to hear of this new [AAR] development, and wish to reaffirm our continued interest in meeting at the same time and in the same city as the AAR.  The SBL was not involved in the original decision by AAR; nor have we been involved in the present one.  We will certainly discuss with AAR the feasibility of meeting in the same city at the traditional time (the weekend before US Thanksgiving) as soon as it is possible given present scheduling commitments and contractual arrangements.  We are already scheduled through 2012 (Chicago) and 2013 (Baltimore).  Once discussions commence with AAR regarding future concurrent meetings, the SBL Executive Director will report regularly on the progress in making this a practical reality.  We firmly believe that holding the SBL Annual Meeting at the same time and in the same city as other organizations involved in the advancement of biblical, religious, theological, and related academic studies is a good idea.  It brings together people from diverse disciplines and backgrounds to exchange ideas and build relationships.

Kent Richards
SBL Executive Director

Pope Benedict on Biblical Interpretation

I managed to get some time today to read through Pope Bendedict's (then Cardinal Ratzinger) 1988 Erasmus Lecture on 'Biblical Interpretation in Crisis'.  It makes for interesting reading and there are many aspects that I warm to.  For example:

[I]nterpretation can never be just a simple reproduction of history’s being, “as it was.” The word “interpretation” gives us a clue to the question itself: every exegesis requires an “inter,” an entering in and a being “inter” or between things; this is the involvement of the interpreter himself. Pure objectivity is an absurd abstraction. It is not the uninvolved who comes to knowledge; rather, interest itself is a requirement for the possibility of coming to know.

Here, then, is the question: how does one come to be interested, not so that the self drowns out the voice of the other, but in such a way that one develops a kind of inner understanding for things of the past, and ears to listen to the word they speak to us today?

Though I struggle to see how this reconciles with what he wants to say about feminist and liberation hermeneutics:

But today, certain forms of exegesis are appearing which can only be explained as symptoms of the disintegration of interpretation and hermeneutics. Materialist and feminist exegesis, whatever else may be said about them, do not even claim to be an understanding of the text itself in the manner in which it was originally intended. At best they may be seen as an expression of the view that the Bible’s message is in and of itself inexplicable, or else that it is meaningless for life in today’s world. In this sense, they are no longer interested in ascertaining the truth, but only in whatever will serve their own particular agendas.

With all due respect, this is a charicature based on the unwarranted assumption that feminist hermeneutics inevitably 'drowns out the voice of the other' (perhaps connected with the fact that the 'exegete' later on in this essay is explicitly constructed by Ratzinger as male).

Other quotations that struck me:

Thus the word should not be submitted to just any kind of enthusiasm. Rather, preparation is required to open us up to the inner dynamism of the word. This is possible only when there is a certain “sympathia” for understanding, a readiness to learn something new, to allow oneself to be taken along a new road. It is not the closed hand which is required, but the opened eye. . . .

Certainly texts must first of all be traced back to their historical origins and interpreted in their proper historical context. But then, in a second exegetical operation, one must look at them also in light of the total movement of history and in light of history’s central event, Jesus Christ. Only the combination of both these methods will yield understanding of the Bible.

A Step Towards Women Bishops in the Church England

Ruth Gledhill notes the publication of the latest report addressing the legal issues surrounding the question of consecrating women as bishops with the Church of England.  It is good to note that there trajectory of this debate seems to be clearly in the direction of such consecration, although the inevitable sorting out of the legal issues will mean that, I guess, everything will take an awfully long time.

Colossians Remixed: Keesmaat and Walsh in Manchester

News of an interesting event planned for next month here in Manchester:

Colossians Remixed: Faithful Living in the Shadow of Empire - with Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat

Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat, authors of Colossians Remixed: Subverting the Empire present a day's teaching. If you haven't read the book or think that a bible commentary sounds a bit dull think again. It is one of the best books those of us involved in blah... have read for some time. Brian and Sylvia are based in Canada so this is a rare chance to hear and meet them.

The Manchester date is June 5th and you can book here:  http://colossiansmanchester.eventbrite.com/

Sylvia was finishing her DPhil with Tom Wright when I arrived in Oxford, and is a good scholar.  I have read the commentary referred to and it is certainly an innovative and creative book, although the anti-imperial reading is so dominant that other aspects of Colossians are neglected (this is not a criticism, but an observation).  I also seem to remember that using disposable nappies was understood to be a clear sign of conformity to imperial principalities and powers - oh well!

Baptist Hermeneutics Colloquium: Update

The Colloquium that I announced here now has a live website which will be updated as news of contributors and participants develop.  I have yet to decide what my paper will be on - something around covenant probably, although I am also interested in the reception history of Matthew 28:16-20 and 18.15-20 in Baptist sources.  My head is currently crammed full of other stuff but I will get round to getting a proposal together in the next few weeks.

Women and Ministry Day

The Baptist Union of Great Britain has as a declared element of its overall strategy the aim of increasing the number of women ministers who serve our churches.  This won't happen without some major readjustment of attitudes and allocation of resources. Northern Baptist College (where I teach) has long been committed to encouraging and enabling women who wish to enter Baptist ministry, but in the last 2-3 years we have found that the number of women who even get as far as applying to College has been falling.

To this end we are hosting an event for women who want to explore the nature of God's call upon their lives.  Entitled "Leading Women: Exploring Women's Ministries" it is aimed at women in Baptist churches who want to find out more about the opportunities that are available to them in ministries both ordained and lay and the possible training routes that the College provides.  The event will be held on November 15th 2008 from 10.00 a.m. - 1.00 p.m. at Luther King House, and a creche will be provide for children under 5.

For those who can, we ask you to publicize this event as widely as possible.

Sad News: Krister Stendahl

Notification has come from Harvard Divinity School of the death of the renowned NT scholar Krister Stendahl:

To the HDS community--

It is with immense sadness, but also with immense thankfulness for a singular life wonderfully well-lived, that I write to inform you that Krister Stendahl, our beloved friend, teacher, colleague, and former Dean, died this morning. A funeral service is planned for Friday morning at University Lutheran Church, and a memorial service to be held at Harvard's Memorial Church is being planned for sometime in May. Details on that University event and on other chances to recall, celebrate, and honor Krister will be communicated as soon as we know them, by email as well as on the HDS website. Please keep all of the Stendahl family in your thoughts and prayers.

Sincerely,
William A. Graham,
Dean

This is sad news.  Attention has rightly focussed on Stendahl's contribution to Pauline studies via the essay on 'Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West', but he made many, many other contributions to the guild and in particular was key to the reassessment of the ways in which NT scholarship portrayed 2nd Temple Judaism - a fitting legacy for a true teacher of the church.  May he rest in peace.

A Gratuitious Swipe from Milbank?

This is the opening paragraph from Milbank's recent article "Stale Expressions: The Management Shaped Church" in Studies in Christian Ethics 21 (2008), 117-128.  Bear in mind that Milbank is an Anglican, that the article is about an Anglican initiative (Fresh Expressions), that the keywords for the article include Anglican, church and England.  He writes:

"The man next to you on the GNER train going north, wired up to his laptop and his mobile simultaneously: issuing instructions about hiring, firing, sidelining, expanding here and reducing here, letting so and so in on the latest developments, leaving so and so out of them, making cautious inquiries concerning new development opportunities, closing down an unprofitable field before it sinks too many resources. Yes, he may well be a systems manager for an information technology firm. Or, he may equally well be a Baptist minister . . ."

Bloody cheek!  Although the article has lots of interesting things to say.  Actually, looking at the picture Milbank could easily pass for a Baptist minister - the glasses, beard and jumper combo are dead right.  All he needs is a guitar.  All together now "These are the days of Elijah....cos' Radical Orthodoxy rules".

Colloquium on Baptist Hermeneutics

I have just received notification of this event from Simon Woodman and Helen Reynolds at Cardiff Baptist College.  They write:

The ‘plainly revealed’ Word of God? Baptist Hermeneutics in theory and practice.

Baptists have always been proud to declare their reliance on scripture.  However in the light of the plethora of internationally renowned twentieth century British Baptist biblical scholars, there is surprising absence of overt reflection on the practice of Baptist hermeneutics. This colloquium will therefore provide an opportunity to explore the theory and practice of Baptist hermeneutics, consisting primarily of contributions from current British Baptist scholars, enhanced by insights from international participants. It is anticipated that an edited volume will arise from the colloquium, exploring both the distinctives of a Baptist approach to scripture, and the application of this approach to specific texts."

The list of currently confirmed participants, in addition to ourselves, is:

Paul Fiddes (Regent’s Park College, Oxford)
Sean Winter (Northern Baptist College, Manchester)
Simon Perry (Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church, London)
Mikeal Parsons (Baylor University)
Bill Bellinger (Baylor University)
Alan Culpepper (Mercer University)
Brian Brock (Aberdeen University) - Who will write a response chapter in the published volume

The proposed date for the colloquium is Tuesday 20th - Thursday 22nd January 2009.

I am really pleased that Simon and Helen have been able to get this project off the ground, and I am really looking forward to being involved.

Sabbatical Purchases

I am taking this week off, with no more than a passing thought for those who are spending parts of the week retreating (fellow staff and students) or researching (hope its going OK Catriona).  So I have been out on the spend, the results being:

The Box Set of Karl Richter's recordings of Bach (Matthew and John Passions; B Minor Mass; Christmas Oratorio and Magnificat).  This is a bargain on Amazon at the moment (£3.00 per CD)

Apple keyboard.  There have been some comment recently in the blogosphere about the relative merits or demerits of Apple kit.  But tell me, what would you rather use - a cheap, nasty Dell keyboard, each key of which requires depression to the depth of about half an inch, or a chrome and white streamlined wonder of engineering; not only beautiful but functional beyond any reasonable expectation (full numeric keyboard; 2 USB ports; one key to expose the desktop; full control of ITunes etc etc etc)?

Oh yes, and books, but not theology.

John Stubbs' highly praised biography of John Donne (hardback, local Oxfam bookshop for a few quid)

Edward Said's lectures on musical performance and interpretation.

SBL: The Bad and the Good News

The bad news is that my paper proposal wasn't accepted.  The good news is that I have the funding to go to Boston anyway.  So, here's to a stress free SBL.

Matthew Passion

Its Holy Week...I went to hear the Halle (orchestra, choir and junior choir) do the Matthew Passion last night.  I came away thinking that one probably ought to be a Christian for the simple reason that you are grateful that the story of Jesus can inspire music like this - in fact, even if you don't believe in God, you should become a Christian as a way of saying thank you to Bach, it would be the polite thing to do.

If you don't have a clue what I am on about, then listen to what, for me, is the most sublime aria in a work that is sublime throughout (sung last night by Carolyn Sampson who looked as if her heart was going to break)

Here are the words:
Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben,        Out of love my Savior wants to die,
Von einer Sünde weiß er nichts                 He knows nothing of a single sin,
Daß das ewigen Verderben                         so that the eternal destruction
und die Strafe des Gerichts                         and the punishment of judgment
Nicht auf meiner Seele bliebe.               would not remain upon my soul.

Holy Week Reflections 4: John 20

The last one in the series, following on from reflections on John 13, John 18 and John 19.  Thanks once again to the Baptist Times were these first appeared.

We Have Seen the Lord: Reflections on John 20

From the meal, into the garden, through the high priest’s courtyard, then Pilate’s headquarters and onto the cross … the scenes played out in the drama of Holy Week are, as we have seen, places of revelation. John tells the story of the last days of Jesus' life in a way that helps us to see 'the glory of the Father's only Son, full of grace and truth' (John 1: 14). We have noted how the cross itself stands as the great fulfilment of Jesus' mission. The death of Jesus is, in so many ways, the climax of the story, but it is also, of course, the beginning of a new chapter in the story of God's work in the world.

So, some have wondered whether John even needs a resurrection account.  If Jesus is glorified, exalted and returns to God on the cross, why do we need anything else?  For the other gospel writers the answer is that without the resurrection, we could not be sure about the truth about Jesus and his mission.  The resurrection is the way that we know that Jesus is God's Son, and that his mission has been successful.  For John, however, the resurrection is necessary, not so much because it tells us the truth about Jesus, but because in the encounter between the risen Jesus and his followers, we see something of the truth about ourselves.

I am suggesting that in John 20, early on the first Easter morning, you and I are invited to look and see, not inside the tomb at what happens to Jesus (the characters in the story do that for us), but outside at what happens to his followers. The combined stories of Mary Magdalene (20.1-2, 11-18) and the two disciples (20.3-10) tell us what happens next … not to Jesus, but to us.

The first ten verses of the chapter focus on the two disciples who were closest to Jesus in his earthly ministry.  They offer a twisting, turning account of the journey from unbelief to faith. The story begins in darkness (a symbol of unbelief in this Gospel). Mary has run from the tomb still convinced that Jesus is dead. Peter and the beloved disciple, however, run to the tomb. For Mary, the empty tomb plunges her deeper into despair, for the two disciples it sparks the seeds of faith. They arrive, and the narrative speaks of their gradual perception of what has taken place.  At first, the beloved disciple is on the outside looking in and see only linen grave-clothes (verse 5).  Then Peter arrives and goes in, seeing more evidence of some mysterious or miraculous happening (verses 6-7). Finally the beloved disciple joins Peter inside and is able to “see and believe” (verse 8).  We are not sure what to make of this belief, however, because in the next breath John tells us that both disciples lacked a true understanding of Scripture and a true grasp of the fact that they were now witnesses to the resurrection.

Mary returns to the story in verse 11.  The disciples have enough faith to go into the tomb but Mary stays where she is, outside in her darkness. Even a return to and glance into the burial place does not change her mind.  She assumes that the body has been taken.  The scene is reminiscent of parts of the Song of Songs (see especially Song of Songs 3.1-4).  In the darkness a woman searches for her lover.  She encounters others and asks them if they have seen him.  Then, suddenly, he is there, and she holds him. John the Baptist has spoken explicitly of Jesus being the bridegroom (John 3.29.30), and Jesus himself seems to play that role with the Samaritan woman in chapter 4. As he promised he would, Jesus speaks Mary's name, so that she can know his voice (see John 10.3-4).  So here, Mary is able to 'find him whom my soul loves' although she seems to think that things can go on as before, that the Jesus she meets is the Jesus she knew before he died.  But Jesus has completed his mission, and is on his way back to God.  It is this, astonishing encounter with the risen Jesus that enables Mary to make the same journey into faith: she can now testify that she has “seen the Lord”.

So, in front of the tomb these gospel characters are able to move from their initial unbelief towards the kind of faith that John’s Gospel seeks from all of its readers. But that faith is only limited and continues to be shot through with misunderstanding and partial insight. The disciples have yet to understand that the scripture testifies that Jesus “must rise from the dead” (20.10) and Mary wrongly assumes that Jesus is present with her in the same way as he was in his ministry (20.17). By that evening, they are gathered behind a locked door, afraid (20.19). Clearly, for them to see Jesus and touch him only takes them so far.

This is what I mean when I say that, in the end, John tells these stories for our sake.  His gospel is written so that we 'may come to believe, and though believing have life in his name' (John 20.30-31).  We know that however far we have come on the journey towards full understanding of resurrection faith; however stunning and life-changing that first encounter with the risen Jesus who calls us by name, our faith is only ever partial and is often precarious. We feel at a disadvantage, because we cannot stand in front of, or go into an empty tomb and see that Jesus is not there.

Thomas has not shared any of those Easter experiences.  He didn't see the empty tomb or the grave-clothes and he did not hear the voice of the Good Shepherd calling him by name.  Above all he was conspicuous by his absence at the moment when Jesus appeared and commissioned his disciples with the gift of the Spirit (20.19-23).  He is given the testimony of others, echoing Mary's words: 'we have seen the Lord'.  Yet this is not enough for him, he wants faith based on sight, touch, proof, and certainty.  He is given those things, but John makes it clear that this is an exception.  For all those who come after Thomas, including us, the journey of faith is nourished and sustained by other things.

First, the story.  Easter faith is based on testimony, not certainty.  John's gospel itself does not attempt to prove anything about Jesus, it simply offers an account of his life, death and resurrection and invites us to consider the possibility that this life reveals who God is.  Easter is a time for bearing witness, for telling the story which has become our story.  In the end, Christian witness for all of us boils down to a version of the simple phrase 'we have seen the Lord'.

Secondly, the Scriptures.  The disciples would come to realise that the scriptures that they initially failed to understand would eventually make sense to them.  The words of Jesus, including the words attributed to him in John's gospel, would become the way of encountering the eternal Word who is ascending to his Father and his God.  Easter is a time for searching the Scriptures, for in its pages we encounter the living Word, Jesus Christ.

Finally, the Spirit.  Later that evening Jesus appears to them in order to give them the Spirit, the other comforter who will be with them forever (see 14.17).  In words that echo the story of the first creation, John describes a different version of Pentecost.  The Spirit is given to equip the disciples as they continue Jesus' work in the world and as they form communities of faith and friendship that place the story and teaching of Jesus at the centre of their common life.

We cannot go back there, to the events of that first Easter. But here we have the story, the Scripture and the Spirit. In them Jesus lives, and through them we can come to share the faith that brings life to all.

Easter Reading: Between Cross and Resurrection

Allow me to make a suggestion for anyone who wants to do some in-depth exploration of the nature of Easter Faith.  Alan Lewis' Between Cross and Resurrection: A Theology of Holy Saturday is one of the most profound and poignant theological works that I know.  T. F. Torrance in the blurb on the jacket calls it 'the most remarkable and moving book I have ever read'.  Essentially it is a work that explores cross and resurrection from the perspective of the mid-point of Easter Saturday.  Its is not  an easy read (over 450 pages of deep theolohical reflection) and Lewis' reflections are shaped by immersion in the theology of Luther, Barth, Bonhoeffer, Jungel, Moltmann and von Balthasar.  What gives the discussion its edge, however, is the fact that mid way through writing it Lewis was diagnosed with a cancer from which he eventually died, before completing the work.  This renders the final chapter on 'Living the Story in Personal Life' a classic of spiritual and theological autobiography.  Here are two quotations from that final chapter to whet your appetite.  I recommend that, following your Easter celebrations you get a copy, as a way of getting a better understanding of what you have just been celebrating, and as a way of preparing for next year.

On Death

Death is relationlessness and utter isolation, the absence of others and the final severance of those connections with neighbors, friends and family which have been in an accelerating process of collapse throughout the period of one's dying.  By the end, all relationships are broken, and our solitude is complete, save for the presence of the fearful by all-gracious Judge.  No matter how the dying of a loved one might break our hearts and make us wish that we could substitute our lives for theirs, suffering and even dying in their stead, that is one act of selflessness which is denied us.  To lay down one's life for one's friends can give them at best a temporary reprieve.  The time still comes when they and we, utterly bereft of community or substitutes, must complete a journey which no one else can take.  Then, if not before, with the self quite naked and absolutely singular, the question, however much evaded through life and theologically perhaps best left to last in any case, will be postponed no longer.  It is the final question raised by Easter Saturday, when God's own self, clothed in our humanity, lies dead and buried, abandoned, solitary, all alone: the question ' Who am I?' (438-439)

On Baptism

To be baptized, and thus appropriate to oneself the historical event in which once and for all one's identity was crucified and buried with Christ Jesus, is itself nothing less that to have an Easter Saturday identity.  Baptism confirms our unity with Christ, and thus our participation in his repentance which led from the cradle to the Jordan, to the cross and tomb.  In this union, sealed with the sign of water the drowns, cleanses, and gives new life, we repent of our old identity, consider ourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus, who himself has died to sin and ended death's dominion.  For at whatever age this sign is laid upon us, we receive it with empty hands open for the gift of grace, becoming like the little children of whom God's kingdom is comprised. (447-448)

I think this book is a theological and spiritual classic, and deserves to be better known.  Hence this recommendation!

Holy Week Reflections 3: John 19

Again, with thanks to the Baptist Times, where this first appeared.  For the previous two reflections see here (John 13) and here (John 18)

Behold the Man: Reflections on John 19

Crucifixion is among the most violent and humiliating forms of death imaginable. It was designed that way - to inflict levels of pain that took the victim to the limits of endurance, and to expose them to extreme degradation and mockery, until death finally, and mercifully intervened.

All of the accounts of Jesus crucifixion in the New Testament gospels contain details that confirm what we would have already guessed from other sources that describe this form of political execution. Jesus suffered; physically, emotionally, and for someone whose faith in God seemed to be unshakeable, no doubt spiritually as well. Although the gospels refuse to claim that Jesus' suffering was unique, and nowhere state that it is the suffering itself which brings salvation (claims that are regrettably all too often seen and heard in contemporary Christian piety) they clearly refer to aspects of the torment that Jesus endured in his last hours.

So, in John's gospel, Jesus is hit by one of the temple police. Pilate, in the middle of his interrogation of Jesus, has him flogged. The soldiers in a parody of an enthronement ceremony, put a crown of thorns on his head and a purple robe over his shoulders. They too hit him in the face and Pilate eventually hands Jesus over to the dreadful fate of crucifixion, what the Roman orator Cicero had earlier called 'the most cruel and disgusting penalty'.

What is utterly extraordinary about John's narrative (so extraordinary that one hesitates to call it a 'passion' narrative) is that Jesus seems to take everything that happens to him in his stride. Far from being a victim, Jesus is seen to be the one in control of his own fate and destiny. There is a lovely detail at the end of the trial scene with Pilate. Throughout the trial, Jesus has refused to answer Pilate's question. Instead he has apparently ridiculed the Roman Governor, made him look foolish, forced him into a corner in which he must ask questions of himself, rather than Jesus: 'What is truth?' (18: 38). In the end Pilate seems to admit defeat, and we are told in 19: 13 that 'he brought Jesus outside and sat on the judge's bench'. The scene works at two levels because the words could also mean 'he sat Jesus down on the judge's bench'. John wants us to consider the possibility that it is actually Pilate who is on trial and that the accused one has become the judge!

This sense of Jesus taking control is reinforced in the verses that follow. John is specific in stating that Jesus carried the cross 'by himself' (19: 17) thereby contradicting the account of Simon of Cyrene in the other gospels. On the cross itself, Jesus seems strong enough to be able to hold a conversation with his mother and the beloved disciple (19: 26-27). The only reason he asks for a drink is in order to fulfil scripture, (19:28). Finally, his final words from the cross constitute a cry of triumph: 'It is accomplished'. There is no evidence here of a cry of dereliction.  Far from feeling abandoned by God, Jesus knows that everything is happening as it should.

In some ways this is a deeply problematic presentation of Jesus. In these closing chapters John seems intent on removing traces of suffering (the word never appears in his gospel) and humanity from Jesus. No wonder that this gospel was a favourite text of those early Christians who were so convinced of Jesus' divinity that they struggled to believe that he was really a human being at all.

Yet, as we have seen at every stage so far in this journey through John, the reasons for his different emphasis, perhaps even for his deliberate alteration of the gospel tradition and historical facts, have much to teach us.

John's gospel is essentially an attempt to tell the story of Jesus in such a way as to answer the universal question - how do we know what God is like? (this is always a much more interesting question than 'does God exist?). John gives his answer in the opening verses (the Prologue of 1: 1-18). We know what God is like because God's word takes flesh and dwells among us. This means when we look at Jesus, we see what God is like in the only way that would ever be possible for a human being. We see what God is like when God is a human being.

With this knowledge, the reader of the gospel is therefore invited to look at all the things that Jesus does, and listen to all the things that Jesus said, and to draw the conclusion that these are the things that God does and says. Yet, although this is true of every episode in the gospel, there is one point in particular, one special location, one moment in time, when God is revealed to be this kind of God. It is the place of glorification, the place of new life and hope, the place where we look and can say: 'there is God'.

The great scandal of John's gospel is that the cross is that place. In his death, Jesus completes his great work of revelation. If you ask why are there no exorcism stories in John, the answer is that the cross reveals that 'the ruler of this world will be driven out' (12: 31). If you want to know why John does not have a story of the transfiguration or ascension, it is because the lifting up of the Son of man on the cross constitutes his ultimate glorification and exaltation (3: 13-14). Even Pentecost might be happening on the cross. The Greek of John 19: 30 actually reads that Jesus bowed his head and 'gave over the Spirit'.
In short, John takes the story of a suffering servant, and turns it into an account of the victorious Son of God, and does so before he gets to the events of Easter Sunday.

What do we learn? Well, perhaps John gives us all a new way of thinking about the death of Jesus. Recent debates among evangelical Christians have revolved around the appropriate ways of understanding Jesus' death as atonement. Whatever position you take in that debate, the fact is that in focussing on atonement, we interpret the cross in terms that ask about what it does for us. How, exactly, are my sins forgiven by the death of Jesus?

But John is either ignorant or dismissive of such ideas. The nearest he comes to endorsing them is when he changes the date of the crucifixion altogether in order to have Jesus die at the same time as the Passover lambs were being slaughtered (19: 31). Instead, John invites us to think about the death of Jesus as a moment of revelation in which the key question is: what does this death tell us about God? Is this really what God is like? Is it really true that by looking at the dying body of a first century Jewish teacher we see, in a definitive way, something of God's own identity, intentions and purposes?

If we ask them seriously, these kinds of questions can be so deeply difficult and disturbing that we try to evade them, not least by emphasising Jesus' divine identity to the extent that any real appreciation of his humanity is dissipated. This heretical tendency (in the early church it was known as 'docetism' - a word deriving from the idea that Jesus only 'appeared' to be human, but wasn't really) continues to thrive in the church. The real humanity of Jesus evaporates in the heat of our worship songs, our fervent prayers, our unreflective theology and our reluctance to take seriously the extraordinary claim that this gospel makes. For in the end the great truth of Christian faith is not the idea that this man was God walking around on the earth, but that God reveals himself in the crucified body of this man.

Holy Week Reflections 2: John 18

This is the second of a series that I wrote for  the Baptist Times.  Thanks to the Editor for permission to post them here as well.  The first in the series can be found here.

In the Garden: Reflections on John 18

There is no Gethsemane in John's Gospel.  To be sure, chapter 18 begins by describing a night-time journey made by Jesus and his disciples to a "garden", but the garden has no name.  More significantly, John's account of what took place in that garden is substantially different from the other gospel narratives.  There is no reference to Jesus praying or the disciples sleeping and, most important of all, John gives us no sense that Jesus is undergoing any kind of spiritual struggle in these last moments before his arrest.  The nearest John comes to this idea is in 12.27-28 where Jesus considers, and then rejects, the idea of asking God to save him from death.  Whereas Mark, Matthew and Luke give central place to the prayer "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me״ (Matthew 26.38), John in explicit contrast has Jesus ask the rhetorical question, "Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me".  The grammatical form of the question invites the unequivocal answer "Of course you are".

Yet the verses describing Jesus' arrest in the garden, found in John 18.1-11, are not merely an account of historical events.  Throughout, John is keen to interpret the significance of these events for his readers.  Given that those first readers were very likely Jews, with a good knowledge of the themes and language of the Old Testament, we will better understand the story if we take time to consider the ways in which Jesus' deeds and words interact with Israel's scriptures.

Take the opening verse: "After Jesus had spoken these words, he went out with his disciples across the Kidron valley" (John 18.1).  They seem simple enough.  However a literal translation would read "across the winter-flowing Kidron".  The Kidron valley, which stood between the central sites of Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives, was usually dry at the level of the river bed.  But in winter, when the rains came, a small stream would appear - thus it could be described as 'winter-flowing'.  The use of the term in this context may be explained away as detailed topographical information.  Yet, the full phrase also occurs in 2 Samuel 15.23, where we find King David in remarkably similar circumstances to those facing Jesus.  In that chapter, David is betrayed by his closest counsellor, Ahithophel, and is forced to flee the city of Jerusalem as he is pursued by Absalom.  He too crosses the 'winter-flowing Kidron' with his people, and ascends the Mount of Olives (see verse 30) 'weeping as he went'.  John's gospel may not narrate Jesus' agony and distress, but by means of this biblical echo, we are invited to consider again the poignant journey of Israel's true King, rejected by his own people.

The arrest takes place in darkness (always a symbolic motif in this Gospel) and under the threat of violence.  The details of verse 3 are ironic given that Jesus has already claimed to be the light of the world, and unnecessary in view of his refusal to use force in defence of his kingdom (see verses 18.10-11, 36).  In a detail that stretches historical plausibility, John suggests that a cohort of Roman troops accompanied the Jewish temple police in making the arrest.  Subsequent verses will see the true King of Israel come face to face with the representative of Roman power and demonstrate a greater authority, much to Pilate's bemusement.  There is no kiss of betrayal.  Jesus takes the initiative in verse 4 and asks the soldiers whom they seek.  When they tell him, he straightforwardly identifies himself: "I am he" - verse 5.

Or not so straightforwardly, for those words (egô eimi in Greek) again bring to mind numerous scriptural antecedents.  They are the words of divine self-revelation.  In Israel's history, God's saving power is accompanied by the revelation of God's identity and name: "I am he, there is no god beside me. I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal; and no one can deliver from my hand (Deuteronomy 32.39; see also Isaiah 43.13; 48.12).  As these two words appear on the lips of Jesus (as they do so often in this Gospel) they reveal his identity as the only-begotten Son of the Father.  Those making the arrest assume that they are in control and that his life is now in their hands.  But the power to kill and make alive is God's, an God has given all such authority to Jesus his Son.  No wonder the soldiers draw back and fall to the ground (verse 6).

The scene in the garden sets the stage for all that will follow.  Jesus is Israel's true King and God's only Son.  He will therefore move through the following events, the trial before Pilate, the flogging and taunting by the soldiers, crucifixion and death, in the sure and certain knowledge that this is his God-appointed destiny.  It is this certainty (to be compared with the uncertain agony of the other gospels) that enables Jesus to command the soldiers to let his followers go, and to tell Peter that the sword will really not be necessary (verses 8-11)

In the days leading up to Holy Week, as we accompany Jesus on that journey, it will pay to recall what happened in the garden.

First, we must always remember that the story of Jesus makes no sense at all without the story of Israel.  The allusions to the Old Testament in this passage remind us that Judaism has given Christianity the very categories by which we understand the person of Jesus.  At times, John's gospel shows extremely hostility towards the Jews of Jesus' and John's own day.  That hostility has been carried over into Christian theology and liturgy and to this day generates popular forms of Christian anti-Judaism.  If you doubt this, then ask those in your church what comes into their mind when they hear the word "Pharisee".  Yet this same gospel is indebted to Jewish faith and Jewish scripture for its central ideas and images.   At Easter, when it is all too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that Jesus was killed because legalistic Jews felt threatened by his message of love and grace, we must do all we can to show how the events of Holy Week are deeply connected with the story of God's Holy People.

Secondly, we should be challenged by the ways in which John inverts the usual relationship between power and violent force.  Surrounded, as John would have us believe, by 600 or more soldiers carrying weapons, Jesus tells Simon to put his sword away.  Here, as on the cross, Jesus shows that true power is demonstrated through the renunciation of violence.  He may not endure the agony of Gethsemane, but neither does he embrace the strategies for victory used by his opponents.  In the context of Jesus' day. this refusal constituted nothing less than an act of resistance to the forces of imperial power.  Empires today do not always act by armed guard (though in some parts of the world the image of soldiers turning up at night to make arrests is all too real).  Yet we are called to identify, expose, and resist the kind of power that sustains empire (whether it be of the geographical, economic of cultural variety).  Lent is a good time to reflect on the extent of our complicity in such strategies, and to think about how we might live our lives in the true power of Jesus.

Son of David, Son of God: these verses remind us finally that the arrest, trial and execution of Jesus are nothing less than the display of God's glory to a world of darkness and violence.  From here until Easter morning, we are invited to see Jesus not as a victim of fate, but as the victorious king whose suffering death points to the nature of his reign, and establishes the future shape of true Christian victory.

Holy Week Reflections: John 13

I have been writing some short pieces for the Baptist Times, exploring aspects of John's Gospel.  With the permission of the Editor I intend to post one of these every day Monday-Thursday this week.  They are quite long (about 1300 words), and NT scholarly readers will want to question every assertion and challenge every interpretive decision.  But for what its worth - here is the first.  Again, with thanks to the Baptist Times for permission to re-use.

Last Supper and Lord's Supper?: Reflections on John 13

All of the four gospels in the New Testament are different from one another. Those differences tell us something about the convictions, beliefs and situation facing each gospel writer and the churches for which they wrote. What is true for the other three gospels is, however, especially true of John.  Over the next four weeks we will be exploring the ways in which John's account of Jesus' final hours differs considerably from that story told in the other gospels.  Those differences take us to the heart of John's message for the churches of his own day, and ours.

John chapter 13 tells us what happened at Jesus' last meal with his disciples. Verses 2 and 4 refer to a 'supper'.  Other than this basic point and references to Judas as the betrayer, there is little to connect the narrative of John 13 to those found in Mark 14, Matthew 26 and Luke 22.  John does not describe the meal, or the words used by Jesus to give the meal special significance (there is no 'this is my body … this is my blood').  John's story takes place a whole day earlier than the story of the 'Lord's Supper', so this is no Passover meal that Jesus is sharing.  In the same way that John omits any reference to Jesus being baptized, he seems to be unaware, or to deliberately ignore, the story of Jesus instituting a meal for his followers 'in memory of me'.  Rather, the focus is on a different kind of symbolic action.  No breaking of bread, no pouring of wine; instead we hear that Jesus takes off his outer robe, and ties a towel around his waist and washes the feet of his followers.  The scene is familiar to us, and in some Maundy Thursday services it is even re-enacted.  But what does it mean?  What is the significance of this role reversal?

Perhaps we can begin to answer this by looking again at John's apparently simple description of Jesus' action in verse 4.  We are told that Jesus 'took off' his outer garment, and later (v12) 'put it on' again.  These are not the usual words for undressing and dressing, even though we translate them that way.  Crucially, they are the same words used in an important saying of Jesus in John 10.17-18: 'For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again'.  This linguistic connection suggests that John understands Jesus' action to be symbolic of his coming death.  Once we see this, other details surrounding the story come into view.  It begins with a reference to Jesus' 'hour' in verse 1, which throughout the gospel is a term used with reference to the moment of his death (which for John is the moment of Jesus' glorification - the point at which he most fully reveals God).  We are told in the same verse that Jesus loved the disciple 'to the end'.  And Jesus decision to wash the feet of his disciples seems to have been prompted by his knowledge that 'he had come from God and was going to God' (see verse 3).

John describes Jesus' actions briefly.  Many people know that the footwashing takes place at the wrong point in the evening's proceedings, for the custom was to wash feet before the meal began.  Many Christians will also have been informed by their preachers that in performing this action, Jesus subverts the social hierarchy of his day - in this story the saying about the Son of Man coming not to be served but to serve (Mark 10.45), comes alive.  Yet that very saying also has the words 'and to give his life as a ransom for many'.  This is the true focus of John's account which invites us to consider the impossible: that the one to whom God had given all things, the Son whose very life is a revelation of the identity, purposes and glory of Israel's God, will most fully demonstrate the truth about God in the act of laying down his life and taking it up again.  The story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet is often preached as if it were simply an ethical example - Jesus did something nice and humble for his followers … wouldn't it be nice if we could do the same for each other.  This is to rush on to the later verses, and to neglect the radical claims that this text, and those that follow in John's story, make about God.

This explains Peter's otherwise perplexing reaction.  At one level this is a story about a disciple who can't bring himself to let his master become his servant.  But as Jesus says to him 'you do not know now what I am doing' (verse 7) another level of meaning comes into view.  Peter does not yet understand that what Jesus has done for him symbolizes what Jesus will do for the world.  And in his enthusiasm for being literally washed all over, he needs to be reminded that the true response to Jesus is the faith that creates a true relationship with Jesus.

Of course, after Jesus has sat down (taken his life back up again) the disciples are instructed into the kind of relationships that will characterize a community that abides in Jesus.  Verse 15 is one of three crucial 'just as…' sayings in this gospel: 'just as I have done to you, you should do (for one another).  This verse, together with John 17.18 (just as you sent me, so I have sent them, see also John 20.21) and 17.22 (as we are one, so may they be one) speak to us clearly of the church's vocation to unity, apostolicity and community.  We are given an example, but it is an example rooted in the prior story of God's action in Jesus Christ.  Three implications follow on from this:

First, while it is true that John's gospel appears to have very little interest in the sacraments, it is perfectly aware that there are certain ordinary human actions that enable participation in the divine life; love, for example.  To this extent, the forms of humble service epitomized in Jesus' actions are sacramental in that they mediate the loving presence of God in the world and to those who receive such service.  We must remember, however, that this not merely a case of doing kind things for one another.  Jesus' action symbolizes the dismantling of the usual human categories of superior and inferior, power and service, status and significance.  Those acts of service that reverse and deconstruct the cultural assumptions that governed Jesus' society and our own will be the acts that most fully mediate God's loving and disturbing presence in the world.

Secondly, this means that, unlike Baptism and the Lord's Supper, the ritualization of footwashing in services of worship, no matter how well-intentioned, probably does not get to the point.  We need to identify the contemporary, counter-cultural equivalents to Jesus' radical gesture.  This is not charity, which leaves the relative status and power of the donor and recipient intact.  God's life as we see it in Jesus is characterized by self-emptying, suffering and the misunderstanding and hostility that comes with it.

Finally, we might turn the logic of the passage around.  If faith in Jesus as the revelation of God is the basis for selfless acts of humble service, is it not also the case that all such acts of service are a participation in and revelation of God's life?  Wherever people take off the trappings of power, kneel and serve, God's loving, life-giving presence is found.  Christians are quick to deduce that those who love God will go on to learn what it means to love others, often at great cost.  But might it not also be true that those who have learned to love others, whether they know it or not, are participating in the love of God revealed in Jesus Christ?

Furtwangler, Beethoven and Hermeneutics

The comparison between the act of interpreting a text and the act of performing a musical score has often been made.  I will probably use it in my own writing this summer.  However the potency of the analogy struck me this morning as I was listen to a new transfer of Wilhelm Furtwangler's legendary 1951 performance of Beethoven's 9th at the re-opening of the Bayreuth Festspielhaus.  Now, the other recording I have in my collection is John Eliot Gardiner's, which is a period instrument performance.  Both are dealing with the same notes on the page, both are convincing but the contrast is utterly extraordinary, so that one feels that you are listening to two different pieces of music, which in a sense, you are.  Gardiner is the exegete, Furtwangler the preacher.

I can't find a clip of Gardiner's version, so if you have a moment, then take a look/listen to these 2 clips of the final bars.  The first is Toscanini in 1948: for the comparison to work, you may want to start listening at about 3:30 in.

The second is Furtwangler in 1942 Berlin in a concert celebrating Hitler's birthday!  There is huge debate about this performance, and to watch it is to be disturbed, but it seems to me that Furtwangler is actually pressing the score to the point where actually the music begins to break down (deconstruct).  Is this someone who knows that the music being played, and the context in which that happens, are inimical to each other, so much so that the music collapses?  The fury of the final bars suggest someone who is struggling to keep control  We will never know (but note if you stick to the end how he shakes Goebbel's hand and then wipes his hand with a hankerchief).

For an insight into Furtwangler's art, see here.

The point is that the notes on the page are the same - but in music, as in biblical studies, interpretation does indeed go all the way down.

Hans Urs von Balthasar: Blog Conference

If you want something to stretch the mind and the heart over the next few days, then I suggest you keep in touch with the von Balthasar blog conference running over at Fire and the Rose.  The introductory post is here.  Then go out and buy Mysterium Paschale and read it over the Easter weekend.