Simply Christian by N.T. Wright

N.T. Wright, Bishop of Durham, is one of my favorite writers and theologians, although, I think he has said he is more a 1st century historian than theologian. Fortunately for thinking Christians, he looks continuously about 1st century Christianity and interpreting the Biblical texts in light of the historical context in which they were written.

I have just finished his book, Simply Christian, and will be posting some quotes from it periodically. In Simply Christian, Rev. Wright talks about a lot of things. And he does it in such a matter-of-fact and conversational tone that his books, while full of "Eureka" moments, aren't liable to give me a brain cramp. They can be read in little snatches at the restaurant while waiting for the food to come.

And while they are simple in presentation, the concepts he tackles aren't ones that lend themselves to today's "bumper sticker theology". As my priest is fond of replying to questions, "I think it's more complicated than that."

How much more complicated and complex must our Creator be and how arrogant is Man to think that we should be able to define and explain the Almighty?



So here's the first quote from Simply Christian by N.T. Wright:

...People often grumble as soon as a discussion about the meaning of human life, or the possibility of God, moves away from quite simple ideas and becomes more complicated. Any world in which there are such things as music and sex, laughter and tears, mountains and mathematics, eagles and earthworms, statues and symphonies and snowflakes and sunsets - and in which we humans find ourselves in the middle of it all - is bound to be a world in which the quest for truth, for reality, for what we can be sure of, is infinitely more comlicated than simple yes-and-no questions will allow. There is appropriate complexity along with appropriate simplicity.

 


Sometimes the miracle is just watching the sun come up.

Taken at Silver River State Park, FL

Musings at 40

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau

How desperate do you have to be to do whatever it takes to keep your soul's song alive?

What does that look like?

Is it worth it to try?

Change my heart, O God

I heard a great sermon today about committment. My Dad preached it.

It seemed an appropriate topic seeing since my idea of what a Christian's committment looks like has recently gotten me labeled as judgemental.

I don't really think of myself as judgemental, but really I guess I am about some things.

I tend to doubt people who give the church a bad name.

I tend to doubt people who pray as the Pharisee prayed, "Lord I am grateful that I am not like this sinner," when they still smell like last night's party. Are they really committed to holiness?

I tend to doubt people who can't get past publicly praying,"Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner" because they get a different kind of attention. These people come in two types: 1) people who get a lot of mileage out of their constant state of crisis and 2) people who feel pious because others get to watch the breast-beating.

I tend to doubt people who remain silent when someone else is denigrating their faith. To me, to be silent is to assent.

I tend to doubt people who think their church is the ONLY one who has it right. Nobody has it completely right. Different churches have different emphases. They speak to different needs in different seasons of one's life.

I tend to doubt people who think their church has it COMPLETELY right. (See above)

I tend to doubt Christians who are meaner than the average unchurched person.

I tend to doubt people who are too proud to admit that someone else might have some worship traditions of value that are different from mine. "Liturgical churches can't be led by the Spirit because everyone is just reading" vs. "Evangelicals have no sense of history and tradition and therefore have no value".

And I just don't trust people who type e-mails in all caps, all lower case or no punctuation, or who can't spell.

And before anyone starts saying that I'm not supposed to judge others, I get judged as well.

My mom thinks your Christianity is shaky if you take any alcohol, including real wine in the communion cup.

My parents friends think my Christianity is shaky because I joined AN EPISCOPAL CHURCH, FOR PETE'S SAKE.

People from the charismatic, nondenominational church we used to attend think, well, I don't know what they think, because they don't call. But when we attended, people who didn't even know me offered to pray over me and lay hands on me when I asked hard theological questions that didn't lend themselves to bumper sticker length answers.

My coworkers think I'm snobby and unfriendly and exclude me because I choose not to join in the gossip, back-stabbing, and whatever else.

And those are just a few of the ones I know about.

Now, the crucial element, I believe, is that everyone makes assumptions about other people all the time. It's how we act on those assumptions that makes it judgement. I think instead of judgement, we should use the idea of condemnation. Am I condemning someone because of these things, or am I genuinely trying to show the Love of Christ to them anyway? That's how Christ works in people. As I act out the love of Christ to them, God will change my heart.

Taking offense

Sometimes someone asks for your opinion, but when you give it, you end up in trouble. It would work out better if you kept your trap shut.

I'm not always very good at that. In fact, sometimes I'm really bad at that.

So, apparently, I offended some people by a comment I posted on another blog, and for that I'm sorry.

But I was also surprised that anyone would be offended at what I said, and their responses to mine hurt my feelings - mostly because they didn't listen to what I said. Perhaps I could have said it better, but I don't think that what I said was wrong.

So much for the via media.