How might love shape scholarship?

The Global Faculty Initiative is a wonderful enterprise to stimulate the interaction of university scholarship with theology. They employ the following methodology.

"Theology Brief: a longer essay by a leading theologian on a key theme in Christian theology

Disciplinary Briefs & Disciplinary Notes: short essays by research scholars that explore connections between their scholarly specialty and a Theology Brief"

The most recent Theology Brief is by Oliver O'Donovan, The Sovereignty of Love.

Here is my response, Love and the Natural Sciences.

The link above gives my full article. Here is the beginning.

Love should be primary for a Christian scholar

I was both surprised and challenged by O’Donovan’s argument that love should be primary for a Christian scholar. My prior perspective was that universities are primarily about thinking. Integrity, both intellectual and moral, should be the main characteristic of Christian scholars. This includes integrating disciplinary knowledge with theology. However, I now see that love should subsume integrity, just a Jesus challenged us.

O’Donovan states: “Those for whom specialised knowledge constitutes their sphere of work thus face a challenging question: how may they love that one aspect of the world which they know very well, while focussing their love finally upon God and their neighbours?” This challenge of a dual focus must be related to the question: how does one resist the temptation to worship the creation not the Creator (Romans 1:18-25)? As I discuss below, modern physics is truly amazing and beautiful. This has led some theoretical physicists (for example, authors of popular books such as Sean Carroll, Paul Davies, and Frank Wilczek) to follow the example of Albert Einstein and be in awe of nature and our ability to understand it. Unfortunately, they either deny the existence of God or at least his personal nature.

Love for others is particularly challenging as it includes love for enemies. A scholar may encounter many enemies (both real and perceived): colleagues who oppose their ideas, anonymous reviewers who make unjustified criticisms, bureaucrats who frustrate, impede, and burden with dubious administrative requirements, and increasingly members of the public or politicians who make ill-informed criticisms of their work, its value, or its applications.  

The concern for love enlivened a liturgy (from Every Moment Holy) that I often pray before commencing work. Here are a few lines 

“May I learn to love learning, O Lord,

for the world is yours,

and all things in it speak

-each in their way – of you:

of your mind,

your designs,

your artistry,

your power,

your unfolding purpose.

All knowledge is your knowledge.

All wisdom your wisdom….

Let me be in this school, even is small ways,

a bearer of love and light and reconciliation;

which is to say, let me in humility be your child…” 

Counter-cultural dimensions to love in the academy

The love commands of Jesus were counter-cultural in the first century. His followers were largely from the lower echelons of society and faced opposition from both Roman imperial and Jewish religious leaders. Obedience could come at a high cost. The commands are also radically counter-cultural in universities today, as they are dominated by four values: money, marketing, management, and metrics. The social and institutional pressure to conform is immense. In his Disciplinary Brief, responding to O’Donovan, Ian Hutchinson suggests “humility seems the most difficult value in the academy.” Peter Harrison recently discussed how, following the characterisations of Max Weber, secularisation has led to disenchantment, diminishment of virtue, and being trapped in the “iron cage” of bureaucracy. 

Tom McLeish argued that Christian natural scientists need to adopt a contemplative stance in their work.  He argued that the book of Job

“urges us not to look on the natural world for signs of God, nor through it as a window onto some dim divine image, but to learn to look on nature with God’s eyes, aligning our servant gaze with, not at, the divine. The same searching look of creative power and insight, of love, with which God participates in his created nature is to be the direction, if only in image, of our participation also.”

This resonates with O’Donovan’s definition of love as “affective and directive attention to a good.”

Comparing and contrasting Christian belief to others

For the last two meetings of the theology reading group we discussed I believe. Help my unbelief!: Christian beliefs for a religiously pluralistic and secular world by Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen

It is a 400+ page summary of the author's five-volume systematic theology series called Constructive Christian Theology for the Church in the Pluralistic World.

The book is an ambitious and admirable project. The author not only discusses all the main topics in systematic theology but also attempts to bring each topic into dialogue with science (representing the secular world) and the major religions: Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism.

I am in two minds as to how much the project has succeeded. I am glad Karkkainen tried. I learnt a lot about other religions. The compare and contrast approach was done in a respectful and honest way. I think there are two problematic extremes I have noticed in comparisons of religions. One is to force similarities that actually aren't there and to ignore or minimise real differences. The opposite extreme is to deny any similarities and demonise the religion of the "other". The author avoids both extremes.

I don't know enough about other religions to know if the author's descriptions were reasonable and accurate. I did learn a lot and found them helpful. It is interesting how in Judaism there is little emphasis on heaven and eternal life. How should that affect how Christians read the Old Testament? The discussion highlighted for me how certain Christian beliefs are distinctive, such as salvation by grace and the affirmation of the goodness of God's creation. I found it ironic that Buddhism and Hinduism are dominant in communal cultures but are highly individualistic in terms of their views of "salvation" and religious life.

I found Karkkainen's engagement with science somewhat disappointing. References on scientific topics were often popular websites such as space.com. Sometimes details were garbled, such as his description of quantum entanglement (page 90). He only mentioned a few authors on this topic, and some of the references were quite old. More recent authors such as Alister McGrath, Tom McLeish, Francis Collins, Denis Alexander, Peter Harrison, Alvin Plantinga, and Rodney Holder were not mentioned.

On theology, Karkkainen models "generous orthodoxy" in the sense of affirming central orthodox Christian beliefs while graciously acknowledging differences in how those beliefs are to be interpreted and lived out. He references authors from a range of traditions, convictions, and perspectives. Although he is Lutheran, he is comfortable criticising Martin Luther!

I looked through the index and counted page references to different theologians: Jurgen Moltmann (25), Augustine (23), Aquinas (15), Barth (14), Luther (14), and Pannenberg (7). I found this interesting, but I'm not sure what to conclude from it.

Embodiments of competing visions of the Christian faith

 I have always wanted to read the classic novel The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky, but have been deterred by its length. I am attracted by the way it weaves deep philosophical and theological debates into a narrative about murder. Each of the characters presents competing positions.

Well, popular culture just presented me with something similar: the movie, Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery.

On one level, this is a classic murder mystery, being the third in the Knives Out franchise featuring the eccentric detective Benoit Blanc.

Note: if you have not seen the movie, this post does not contain any spoilers.

Four distinct competing philosophical and theological positions are associated with the movie.

Atheistic rationalism. This denies any spiritual realities (naturalism), elevates reason, and claims that Christianity is "just a story" that provides comfort to desperate people. This view is espoused by the detective Benoit Blanc.

Culture war Christianity. The world is divided into good and evil. Sexual immorality is destroying society. Increasing secularisation in the Western world has led to the decline of Christendom. The USA is no longer a Christian nation. Christians need to fight back. Desperate times require desperate measures. The end justifies the means. The dominant emotions expressed and used to control people are fear, anger, judgment, power, and shame. This vision of Christianity is embodied in the priest, Jefferson Wicks. Another character, a social media influencer, sees this culture war as the basis for a successful political career.

Jesus-centric Christianity.  That term is a tautology, as surely the word "Christianity" means it is centred on Jesus Christ! But I use the term to contrast it with "Culture war Christianity". Significant elements of Jesus life and teaching were love, forgiveness, compassion, mercy, and hospitality. He was a friend of sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes. In fact, his biggest opponents were the Pharisees, religious leaders who were exclusive, angry, self-righteous, legalistic, and desperately wanted to reclaim the power and status of their nation. In the movie, the character who is all about Jesus-centric Christianity is the young priest, Jud Duplenticy.

In the clip below, Jud debates Benoit.

There are also some powerful scenes where Jud debates Jefferson. Unfortunately, I could not find a clip of those. You will have to watch the movie. There is a good one beginning around 27 minutes into the Netflix version.

There is another competing vision of Christianity.

A generic humanistic spirituality. This espouses the values of love, forgiveness, grace, mercy, and compassion. Jesus is seen as a nice example of this, and the church as a community that can practise these values. It is described as "faith", but the object of the faith is not clear. It seems to be a belief that if people just look into their hearts, they will find a goodness that will enable them to live out the values. The historical basis for Christianity and traditional doctrines are overlooked or seen as outdated or irrelevant. In particular, the divinity of Jesus, the sinful nature of humanity, the significance of Jesus death on the cross, repentance, and the power of the Holy Spirit to transform people are not considered fundamental. Jesus does provide an amazing and inspiring example of human compassion, mercy, and forgiveness. However, he does so much more. He calls on his followers to repent of their sin. His death is the basis for us to forgive others. We forgive because he forgave us. We love because he loved us.

I did not see this vision represented by a character in the movie. However, many reviews of the movie seem to see Jud as representing this vision.

The video below presents a nice analysis of the movie [including spoilers], but presents Jud's faith as generic, rather than Jesus-centric.

 

This article has helpful background on the writer and director of the movie.

Rian Johnson’s Explains How His Religious Upbringing Inspired ‘Wake Up Dead Man’

My best blog posts from 2025?

Best wishes for the New Year!

Here is a list of the posts that I wrote last year that I hope get the most interest.

 My articles on theology and science. I put together links to all the articles I have written over the last 25 years.

Participating in the greatest story ever told. This is review of Eat this Book, by Eugene Peterson.

A heartfelt reckoning with Australia's history of colonialism, racism, and Whiteness. This year was the beginning of my engagement with Stan Grant.

Living and Dying for your Country. This was a review of Patriot by Alexei Navalny, the late Russian opposition leader.

Science, Humanity, and Jesus. This is a talk I gave at Theology on Tap in Brisbane.

Genesis, Science, and Jesus. A short talk by John Dickson that was part of an episode of his podcast, Undeceptions.

In Praise of Papua New Guinea

Bonhoeffer as a model for an integrated Christian life

This month at the theology reading group, we are discussing a recent book by our leader.

 In the Shadow of a Rugged Cross: Reflections on the Spirituality of Dietrich Bonhoeffer by Charles R. Ringma

Like most of Charles' books, this one is best read as a devotional book. There are ten chapters, each of which has six sections of about two pages in length. Each section begins with a Bible verse and ends with a short prayer. Most of the prayers are taken from the Celtic Daily Prayer book from the Northumbria Community or Liturgies from Below: Praying with People at the End of the World by Claudio Carvalhaes. Each section has a reflection on a specific topic, drawing on multiple short quotations from Bonhoeffer.

The book helped me appreciate how Bonhoeffer's Christian life was integrated in two senses. Bonhoeffer did not compartmentalise or over-emphasise one dimension of the Christian life.

First, in both his theology and his life, for Bonhoeffer, there was no separation or isolation of head, heart, and hands. They all matter. What we believe, what we love and worship, and how we serve are intertwined. 

Second, living as a Christian is not just an individual or private spiritual experience. It is intertwined with our relationships with family, church, society, and nation. On the one hand, the church is distinct from society and should not conform to its values, ethics, and priorities. On the other hand, the church is to be salt and light in society, loving and serving the marginalised, and speaking truth to power.

Most importantly, Bonhoeffer was Christ-centric. On any matter, in the end, he went back to the life, teaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This meant the Bible, and particularly the Gospel narratives, were central to his theology and ethics. He wrestled, both intellectually and in prayer, to understand his life and context, what they meant in light of Scripture, and how to move forward in faith and obedience.

Here are a few quotations from Charles' book that I found helpful and challenging.

    "When we embrace the great gift of the Holy Spirit, we need to be discerning, what is most precious can be easily distorted.

If the Spirit we are following is not binding us to the Word and the person and work of Christ, we can be led into the side-alleys of subjectivism. We can make all sorts of claims that the Spirit "told" us to say or to do something, when in fact we are over-riding the ever-gentle Spirit, or letting our own imagination run rife."

page 63 

    "Prophetic spirituality has nothing to do with iron clad certainties. It is birthed in the contested space of discernment. It is the place of struggle – do I really understand what is happening in our society when so many seem to think that everything is good? Have I really “heard” the voice of God? And are my actions of proclamation and resistance consistent with my beliefs? And will there be good outcomes?"

page 120

Charles begins Chapter 9, "Celebrating the Good in our World," stating

 "I have been around radical Christians for much of my life. There is much to admire: their vision for a better world, their willingness to practice the good they hope for, their courage to proclaim truth to power, and their willingness to embrace suffering.

But radical Christians are often overly idealistic, unfairly critical of others, and over time, their projects can run out of steam. Another difficulty is that radical Christians don’t give much attention to the “ordinary” realities and structures of life. 

What is surprising is that the radical Bonhoeffer is different. He practices radical alternatives, while at the same time maintaining a vision for the continuance of the more ordinary realities of life – family, work, church, governance, among other themes. This is both refreshing and challenging. And importantly, this calls us to live a more dynamic dialectic. Church, yes. But also, community. Word, yes. But also, Spirit. Prophecy, yes. But also, maintenance."

page 146 

Memorial statue of Bonhoeffer in Westminster Abbey.

My articles on theology and science

Here are links to articles that I have written over the years on theology and science.

Can Science see the End?  Case Magazine, 2003, with Greg Clarke.

Foundations of the Dialogue between the Physical Sciences and Theology, Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith  (2004).

Dialectical critical realism in science and theology: Quantum Physics and Karl Barth, Science and Christian Belief (2008), with Ben Myers.

Emergence, reductionism and the stratification of reality in science and theology, Scottish Journal of Theology (2011).

Emergence: The whole is greater than the sum of the parts, Test of Faith.

Science and theology in the non-Western world, Guest Editorial, Science and Christian Belief, 2012.

Living as a Physicist and a Christian, a chapter in the book, Why Study? Exploring the Face of God in the Academy, published by Singapore FES.

Towards a Christian vision for the modern secular university: A theological contribution to competing visions of the university, IFES Word and World, 2018. What is a university for? is a long version of the published article.

Who's afraid of social science?

Case Magazine, 2019.

A Theology of Weakness,

Chapter  in Pub Theology: Where Potato Wedges and a Beer are a Eucharistic Experience

Blessed are the Meek: The Science and Theology of Humility, 

Chapter 3 in To Whom Shall We Go? Faith Responses in a Time of Crisis

Science, Humanity and Jesus, A talk at Theology on Tap Brisbane, June 2025.

Transformation in the Natural Sciences

Draft book chapter, September 2025

Karl Barth and the dialogue between theology and the sciences, Draft paper

Living and dying for your country

 I recently read Patriot, an autobiography by Alexei Navalny, as a part of an extended family book club. I thank my sister-in-law and her husband for choosing the book, selecting it and giving us a copy for Christmas.

Navalny was a Russian activist, campaigning against corruption in the Putin regime. He became well known through a blog that led to the formation of the Anti-Corruption Foundation. It made extensive investigations that were publicised through beautifully crafted videos that revealed the ridiculous wealth that Putin and his cronies acquired through the looting of state-owned enterprises. Navalny was poisoned in 2020, spent 6 months recovering in Germany, and then courageously returned to Russia, even though he knew he would probably be arrested and die in prison. Unfortunately, this is what happened.

I highly recommend the book, even though it is long and at times distressing and depressing. Navalny is a gifted writer and storyteller. I learnt much about life in the former Soviet Union from someone who grew up in the context of the Chernobyl nuclear accident and the war in Afghanistan, leading ultimately to the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Whereas Gorbachev and Yeltsin are often seen as heroes in the West, Navalny does not see them that way. Gorbachev was well-meaning but indecisive. He became unpopular as his first initiative was one banning alcohol, to combat widespread alcoholism. Nevertheless, in hindsight, Navalny developed a great respect for Gorbachev because he was incorruptible. He never gained financially from his position.

On the somewhat lighter side, as a physicist, I was intrigued by

“I firmly believe that all the best things on earth have been created by brave nerds. (I have on the wall of my office a photograph of the 1927 Solvay Conference on Physics. My heroes are those brave nerds who brought about a revolution and enabled the progress of all humankind. I find them so inspiring that I have hung a copy of that photo in the rooms of both my children.)"

An important question is how did Navalny sustain his activism, stay courageous, and endure the suffering of prison?

While in prison, Navalny memorised Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, all 111 verses in Russian, English, French, and Latin! He discusses how this sustained him. It was central to one of the speeches he gave during one of his "criminal trials" in prison.

“It’s not always easy for to do what this book [the Bible] says, but I try. And that’s why it’s easier for me than for many other people who do politics in Russia. Recently someone wrote to me. ‘Navalny,’ he says, why is everyone telling you to “stay strong,” “don’t give up,” “stick out,” and “grit your teeth”? What is it you’re having to put up with? Didn’t you say awhile back in an interview that you believe in God, and it says in the Bible, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be fulfilled.” Well, that’s great. You’ve got it made!’ And I thought, How about that! How well this person understands me. I’m not sure I’ve got it made exactly, but I’ve always accepted that particular precept as pretty much an instruction on how to act. 

That’s why I feel, while of course I’m not particularly enjoying my present situation, I feel no regret about having returned here and what I’m doing. Because everything I did was right. On the contrary, I feel, well, a certain satisfaction… 

I don’t [feel lonely], and let me explain why. Because those words — ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness’ — seem exotic and a bit weird, but they actually express the most important political idea in Russia at this moment.” (pages 326-327) 

The book ends with his testimony of how his simple trust in Jesus sustained him. It did not require

"fervent prayer by the prison barracks window three times a day (a very common phenomenon in prisons). 

I have always thought, and said openly, that being a believer makes it easier to live your life and, to an an even greater extent, engage in opposition politics. Faith makes life simpler.

… ask yourself whether you are a Christian in your heart of hearts. It is not essential for you to believe some old guys in the desert once lived to be eight hundred years old or that the sea was literally parted in front of someone. But are you a disciple of the religion whose founder sacrificed himself for others, paying the price for their sins? Do you believe in the immortality of the soul and the rest of that cool stuff? If you can honestly answer yes, what is there left for you to worry about? … Don’t worry about the morrow, because the morrow is perfectly capable of taking care of itself. 

My job is to seek the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and leave it to good old Jesus and the rest of his family to deal with everything else. They won’t let me down and will sort out all of my headaches. As they say in prison here: they will take my punches for me.” (page 479)

A helpful book review that explores the above themes more is by Andrew DeCort 

Getting into Paul's Letter to the Romans

At church, we are doing a sermon series on Paul's letter to the Romans. Below is some background material that I have found helpful.

First, here is Eugene Peterson's introduction from The Message.

"The event that split history into “before” and “after” and changed the world took place about thirty years before Paul wrote this letter. The event—the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus—took place in a remote corner of the extensive Roman Empire: the province of Judea in Palestine. Hardly anyone noticed, certainly no one in busy and powerful Rome.

And when this letter arrived in Rome, hardly anyone read it, certainly no one of influence. There was much to read in Rome—imperial decrees, exquisite poetry, finely crafted moral philosophy—and much of it was world-class. And yet in no time, as such things go, this letter left all those other writings in the dust. Paul’s letter to the Romans has had a far larger impact on its readers than the volumes of all those Roman writers put together.

The quick rise of this letter to a peak of influence is extraordinary, written as it was by an obscure Roman citizen without connections. But when we read it for ourselves, we begin to realize that it is the letter itself that is truly extraordinary, and that no obscurity in writer or readers could have kept it obscure for long.

The letter to the Romans is a piece of exuberant and passionate thinking. This is the glorious life of the mind enlisted in the service of God. Paul takes the well-witnessed and devoutly believed fact of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth and thinks through its implications. How does it happen that in the death and resurrection of Jesus, world history took a new direction, and at the same moment the life of every man, woman, and child on the planet was eternally affected? What is God up to? What does it mean that Jesus “saves”? What’s behind all this, and where is it going?

These are the questions that drive Paul’s thinking. Paul’s mind is supple and capacious. He takes logic and argument, poetry and imagination, Scripture and prayer, creation and history and experience, and weaves them into this letter that has become the premier document of Christian theology."

Here is the poster from The Bible Project.

and the videos

 

 

 Here is a word cloud.

The centrality of marginality to Christian theology and life

This month at the theology reading group, we are discussing Marginality: The Key to Multicultural Theology by Jung Young Lee.

How do we make sense of our life experience in terms of theology? How do we make sense of theology in terms of our life experience? Given our humanity (finitude and egoism), it is impossible to completely separate our theology and our experience. Will they enrich or distort one another? Previously, I have written about the challenges of contextual theology.

Jung Young Lee was born in North Korea in 1935, escaped to South Korea during the Korean War, and immigrated to the USA as an undergraduate student. He then worked as a librarian, obtained a Ph.D., taught in a secular university, became a minister in the United Methodist Church, was active in its Korean-American congregations, and became a Professor of Systematic Theology at Drew University. Over the years, he experienced racism, prejudice, and stereotyping as an Asian-American.  Not feeling he belonged in the USA, he returned to South Korea at one point with the intention of staying. However, he discovered that he felt he no longer belonged there either.

Lee makes sense of his life through three lenses: historical, sociological, and theological. He recounts the historical experience of immigrants to the USA from Japan, Korea, and China, beginning in the nineteenth century. It is a sad and disturbing history of exploitation, discrimination, and humiliation. He discusses the sociological concept of marginality that was introduced to describe the "integration" of immigrants into the American "melting pot." He contests some of these definitions as they are developed by those in the centre and assume that being on the margins is bad and that the marginalised should move towards the centre. The centre is characterised by a concern with "wealth, power, and glory." (page 31)

"Immigration is the most vivid and profound symbol of marginality for us." (page 110).

Lee claims that "Theology is autobiographical so I reflect on my praxis and context." (page 33).

Lee discusses how marginality is central to the Biblical narrative. The Tower of Babel "was the symbol of centralisation" (p. 110). 

Lee suggests that in Old Testament narratives there are three acts (p,111). 

1. God's call to be a marginal people

2. Faith

3. "The promise which includes  receiving land, becoming a powerful nation, and making a great name (Genesis 12:1-9)."

"These three acts are inseparable. The first and third acts seem to contradict one another, but they are connected in the second act. The order of these acts cannot be reversed.... Tragedies in the history of Judaism and Christianity were due to the reversal this order... The coexistence of both marginality (the first act) and centrality (the third act) is possible in faith (the second act), the connecting principle..."

There is a dialectic. It is both/and rather than either/or.

God called Moses from his marginal status to lead the Israelite slaves out of Egypt. They wandered in the wilderness for forty years. Jesus was born in a stable, the son of a teenage unwed woman, and grew up in Galilee. In the wilderness, he resisted the temptation to embrace "wealth, power, and honour." He was scorned by the centre: the local religious and political leaders. The focus of his ministry was on the marginalised: the poor, sick, ritually unclean, hungry, lame, beggars, prostitutes, and tax collectors.  Jesus' death on the cross was the ultimate symbol of marginalisation. His disciples were not drawn from the social, political, or religious elites.

Humility, service, and love are the dominant characteristics Jesus said his followers should have. The early church did this and lived on the margins. Yet, following Constantine and the rise of Christendom, the church embraced centrality and scorned marginality. It was characterised by wealth, honour, and power. Today, the church, in all its diverse forms, still aspires to centrality. It is hierarchical, bureaucratic, and exclusive. Dogma does not recognise multiple shades of grey. (p. 125) "Centralism is the cardinal sin that destroys the authentic church." (p.142)

Lee presents a radical alternative vision for the church, including for seminaries. He argues that cell groups should be the core structural element of the church. Structures should be characterised by flexibility, local autonomy, and informality.

I have sympathy for his proposals, but sometimes I find he is idealistic and overly optimistic. Some of his proposals may work for a marginalised community such as Korean-Americans (who tend to be disciplined, well-organised, and highly educated). However, for groups of people such as the homeless and those with addictions or traumatic backgrounds, it is extremely challenging for them to develop structures and leaders. Such challenges are helpfully described in an earlier post by my wife, Robin.

On a personal level, I found the book challenging and discomforting. I am a child of the centre, in terms of family background, race, education, wealth, social status, and profession. Most of my life, I have been involved in churches and ministries that value and focus on centrality and marginality. This has not involved a blatant seeking after wealth, power, and honour. It has been much more subtle and subconscious, reflecting the surrounding culture and background of the participants and leaders. Too often I have been attracted to the centre and seduced by it. Only over the last fifteen years, I have a moved to a more marginal outlook and focus, stimulated by experiences in the Majority World. Yet the pull back to the centre is there day after day, particularly towards comfort, safety, and predictability.

The orientation and main messages of the book are largely not new to me. Nevertheless, it is a message I need to keep hearing. Lee's description of the immigrant experience, both his own and his historical predecessors, increased my imagination and empathy towards the immigrants I interact with. He gives seven characteristics of the experience of marginality: rejection, humiliation, alienation, loneliness, nothingness, allness, and a vision of new life.

A heartfelt reckoning with Australia's history of colonialism, racism, and Whiteness

Life experiences shape us, for better or for worse. They can be rich, meaningful, and beautiful. They can be awful and scar us for life. Much of our experience is shaped/determined by the family, culture, and moment we were born into. 

Both Stan Grant and I were born in Australia in the early 1960s and went to high school in the Canberra suburb of Belconnen. Besides, living many years outside Australia, perhaps that is the sum total of our common life experience. He has been successful as a journalist, both internationally and in Australia.

Stan Grant is a Wiradjuri man. His grandparents' home was bulldozed by the Police with the authority of the British crown. His family was dirt poor, always lived on the fringes of towns, and moved continually as his father sought itinerant work. He never stayed in one school for more than a year. No one in his family finished high school, let alone attended university. He says his family was characterised by love. His grandfather fought for Australia in World War II, but when he returned, he was not allowed to go to the local pub to share a drink with his mates. Other returned soldiers were entitled to housing. His grandfather was not. Family members were often harassed by the police. One was put in prison for speaking his native language. Until his family moved to Canberra when he was a teenager, most of his peers were indigenous.

In contrast, I spent the first 22 years of my middle-class life in the same house, my father had the same job that whole time,  both my parents had a Ph.D., and the schools I attended were "lily white".

Literature can be powerful because it can create empathy. It can help us see and feel the world through the eyes and experiences of another person. Incidentally, this is one argument for the importance of the humanities and a liberal arts education. 

Grant is a gifted writer, and his book, The Queen is Dead gave me a glimpse into a world so different to my own, even though it is spatially close and overlapping. The emotions I experienced included sadness, confusion, shock, anger, embarrassment, powerlessness, despair, frustration, and guilt. I guess that my emotional responses are tame and transient compared to the raw emotions that Grant lives with, day in and day out.

Most chapters begin with the refrain. "The White Queen is dead."  The book is prompted by the death of the British monarch in 2023. It is not about her as a person. "The White Queen is a metaphor". (page 9). The book is a personal reckoning with the legacy of colonialism and racism in Australia.

"How do we live with the weight of history? How do we not fall prey to soul-destroying vengeance and resentment, yet never relent in our righteous demand for justice?" (page 5).

Reflecting on his and others' response to the death of the White Queen, he states:

"And in my anger I am confronted again by the two consuming questions of my life: what is Whiteness? And what is it to live with catastrophe?" (page 54)

While in primary school, a white student asked Stan, "Why are you so Black?" (page 84). This incident has tormented him his whole life, and he keeps coming back to it in the book.

Grant reflects painfully on public events over the past quarter of a century that have attracted media attention and have a racist dimension. This includes the significance of the Sydney Olympics in 2000 for Australian identity, Cathy Freeman's gold medal in the 400 metres at that Olympics, the abuse of footballer Adam Goodes, the sponsorship of the Australian women's netball team by Hancock Prospecting, Hawthorn Football Club's treatment of indigenous players, and  Grant's experience working for and eventual departure from the public broadcaster ABC News. He helped me see these events in a raw and painful way.

Grant provides a helpful critique of modernity and the Enlightenment. White men "invented modernity as a place of endless possibility." (page 19). The freedom promised often degenerated into tyranny. Modernity provided an intellectual framework and justification for racism and colonialism. 

"Identities can nourish us. They can give us community. Identities can give us voice. That notion of identity is a conceit of the West - identity as freedom. But identity can also - and far more often than not, in fact - be a pathway to tyranny." (page 23).

"Modernity has supplanted god with its own faith in progress and reason. The liberalism that emerged out of the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Enlightenment imagines that we can wash ourselves clean of the past. But there can be no redemption without atonement." (page 214)

We discussed the book this month in the theology reading group. At first glance, the book might not appear to have much theology, particularly if you read the publisher's blurb

Grant dedicates the book :

To Baiame, my creator

To Jesus Christ, my saviour

To Yindyamarra, the Spirit

"Vindicate me, O God. And plead my cause against an ungodly nation" (Psalm 43:1)"

Theological allusions are scattered through the book. Two short sections (pages 207-211 and 272-278) focus on theology. He engages with Simone Weil, the mystic who had a strong solidarity with the oppressed, and Miroslav Volf.

The first section reflects on his experience of church while growing up. A similar reflection is in a beautiful and powerful article, “This is the way healing begins”: Recovering the language of lament in a disenchanted age 

"For me, Easter is not a time of resurrection. I don’t rush to Easter Sunday but dwell in the darkness of Holy Saturday — the day after the crucifixion, when those closest to the crucified Christ shivered in fear. On that day there is no promise of tomorrow. There is no hope. It is the day when faith itself feels destitute.

It was the darkness of Holy Saturday that I felt — deep in my bones — when I was a little boy. I felt it in the church on the mission on the outskirts of Griffith in New South Wales that was a home, spiritually and physically, to my family. It could have been any of the missions scattered across our country. The places to which we were banished, and yet managed to find refuge.

There was a tiny wooden church on the mission. I remember cramming into the pews, with my best Sunday clothes on and my hair spit down.

My uncle was the pastor. He was an old-time fire-and-brimstone preacher. Not long into his sermon, his white shirt would be stained with sweat. He would constantly mop his brow with a handkerchief. He clutched a tattered black leather-bound copy of the King James Bible under one arm, yet never needed to read from it. He could recite the scripture from memory. With his other arm he would point. Each word landing — and I felt always landing on me.

My head would ache in that church. I would twitch and look out the window. I felt a heavy weight in that church. I have felt it in other black churches, places where our people come to worship. We pray differently. We sing differently. Our hymns are songs of sorrow...

Ours, you see, was the church of the forsaken.

Why, you may be wondering, am I talking about God, about the church, about Christianity? Is that not the religion of empire? Isn’t Christianity the legacy of colonisation? Certainly since the time of the conversion of the Roman emperor Constantine, Christianity has been wielded as the divine right of kings. It has interwoven itself with power and tyranny.

Yes, those proclaiming the word of God came to this land with a Bible in one hand and a gun in the other. The doctrine of discovery, of terra nullius, was itself a sort of decree — that any land not belonging to a Christian monarch was free for the taking.

Yes, God sat astride empire. But that was not our God. That is Christendom, not Christianity. God did not arrive here with the first fleet. We knew God. We walked in God’s creation, in the land that God had given us. We told stories to God. We painted God on our rocks and on our bodies. We had our word for God: Baiame.

When we heard the stories of Jesus, we heard the story of a dark-skinned man in a land of empire. Oppressed and colonised. A tribal man. We heard the story of someone speaking back to power. We heard the words of an ancestor. And in the crucifixion. We felt the wounds. We felt the shame. We felt the abandonment."

This is how theology should be done: personal and contextual, rather than impersonal and abstract. 

Stan Grant writes some wonderful columns every fortnight for The Saturday Paper. There is also a beautiful episode, "Disenchanted Age" of the Undeceptions podcast, where he is interviewed by John Dickson.

Highlights from John's Gospel

The Gospel According to John is a rich narrative built around many stories, metaphors, themes, concepts, events, prayers, teachings, and allusions to the Old Testament. After reading and listening to it multiple times over the past month, it is hard to pick out what is most striking, meaningful, challenging, comforting, or confusing. My previous post provided some brilliant and helpful summaries made by others. To those, I add Eugene Peterson's brilliant discussion in Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places (pages 85-108).

Here are a few interrelated themes that stood out to me personally. They are so connected that it is hard to put them in a particular order.

Incarnation

The living Word of God became a living human in the form of Jesus. He was the embodiment of God's love, promises, character, power, mystery, grace, and truth.

Sin and salvation

Make no mistake. Humans are sinful. Sin is slavery, destructive, evil, dark, opposed to truth, and leads to spiritual death and judgement, both now and for eternity. Humans need to be saved and redeemed from these terrible consequences. Jesus offers salvation through his sacrificial death. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The whole second half of the Gospel centres around Jesus' death.

Belief, love, and obedience

These cannot be separated. Belief is not just intellectual assent to propositional truth. Belief/faith is trust and active participation. Belief, obedience, love, and personal revelation are synergistic and not sequential. "He who has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves Me... I will love him and manifest myself to him." (14:21, RSV). (This verse was very helpful to me early in my Christian journey when I memorised it more than forty years ago). See also 7:18 and 8:31-2.

A new creation

John 1 echoes the creation account in Genesis 1, "In the beginning God created..." all life, something good, with powerful words. This creation continues in Jesus, the living Word, who entered this creation to make a new creation, an abundant life and salvation.

Abundant life

Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (10:10, NIV). John wrote his Gospel "that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name." (20:31, NIV).

Jesus does not just offer eternal life but an abundant life now, even though that may involve suffering, sacrifice, sickness, and death. It is now but not yet. Time and eternity come together in the incarnation, his death, his resurrection, and even in our own lives.

The Spirit

Jesus promised his followers to not leave them alone but to send the Spirit: his living presence, a comforter and advocate. The Spirit convicts the world of sin, righteousness, and judgement. The Spirit guides us into the truth, reminding us of Jesus' teaching. The Spirit enables us to forgive others and can unite Christians. The Spirit empowers us for mission, enabling acts of service and bearing witness to the truth. (As the Father sent Jesus, so he sends us).

The characteristics above show that the Spirit is practical, concrete, and personal. This is far from some abstract, vague, and impersonal force. The spirit is not something special people tune into through some mystical process to provide some secret knowledge or an inner voice that will prompt them to take some action to enhance their affluent lifestyle.

False dichotomies and dialectic

The world [cosmos] is flawed, broken, evil, and opposed to Jesus and his followers. Yet this world is also created, beautiful, and redeemable. Jesus did not come to condemn the world but to save it.

Jesus' Kingdom is for this world, but its' values are not derived from this world. It is an upside-down kingdom.

The abstract and concrete, the spiritual and material, time and eternity, faith and works. Each half of these pairs is often brought into tension or said to contradict the other half of the pair. However, in the Gospel of John, and ultimately in Jesus, they are brought together in beautiful life-enhancing ways.

Reading the Gospel of John

This month in the theology reading group, we are doing something different. We are not reading a theology book, but a book of the Bible! We will be discussing the Gospel of John. In preparation, I am listening to large sections.

Below is some material that I have found helpful concerning the big picture.

Here is an introduction written by Eugene Peterson for The Message.

"In Genesis, the first book of the Bible, God is presented as speaking the creation into existence. God speaks the word and it happens: heaven and earth, ocean and stream, trees and grass, birds and fish, animals and humans. Everything, seen and unseen, called into being by God’s spoken word.

In deliberate parallel to the opening words of Genesis, John presents God as speaking salvation into existence. This time God’s word takes on human form and enters history in the person of Jesus. Jesus speaks the word and it happens: forgiveness and judgment, healing and illumination, mercy and grace, joy and love, freedom and resurrection. Everything broken and fallen, sinful and diseased, called into salvation by God’s spoken word.

For, somewhere along the line things went wrong (Genesis tells that story, too) and are in desperate need of fixing. The fixing is all accomplished by speaking—God speaking salvation into being in the person of Jesus. Jesus, in this account, not only speaks the word of God; he is the Word of God.

Keeping company with these words, we begin to realize that our words are more important than we ever supposed. Saying “I believe,” for instance, marks the difference between life and death. Our words accrue dignity and gravity in conversations with Jesus. For Jesus doesn’t impose salvation as a solution; he narrates salvation into being through leisurely conversation, intimate personal relationships, compassionate responses, passionate prayer, and—putting it all together—a sacrificial death. We don’t casually walk away from words like that."

Here is a word cloud for the book. 

Here are the poster and videos from The Bible Project

Part 1

Part 2

Science, Humanity, and Jesus

Theology on Tap in Brisbane recently celebrated its tenth anniversary.

On Sunday, June 8, I will give the next talk, on "Science, Humanity, and Jesus." Here is the abstract.

Cultural, political, economic, technological, and philosophical forces have been steadily eroding our humanity over the past few hundred years. Scientism is the notion that science has the answers to everything and has led to a reductionist, largely biological view of what it means to be human. With irony, I will give a scientific argument, using the concept of emergence, that the natural sciences are largely irrelevant for understanding our humanity. Emergence notes how reality is stratified and the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Instead of science, we need to look to the humanities, including theology for insights. Truth, justice, and beauty are irreducible and transcendent. Meaning and significance comes from human relationships where love, mercy, hope, forgiveness, and grief are central. Jesus is the ultimate embodiment of humanity and offers us the power to be truly human.

Location is Raven Hotel in West End. 

Flyer is here.

Here is a copy of the text and of the slides.

Genesis, science, and Jesus

In a recent podcast episode entitled, The Chemists, John Dickson discussed the worldview that the opening chapter of Genesis presents and how that relates to science and ultimately Jesus. Here is what he said:

"One of the key differences between the ancient Pagan way of thinking of, say, the Egyptians or Babylonians, and the Hebrew or biblical worldview is on this question of the orderliness of nature. Pagan creation narratives tended to stress the random, haphazard nature of the physical world. The classic is the Babylonian Enuma Elish, read out loud to the population every Babylonian New Year’s Day in Babylon. It says physical world is an after-thought, fashioned out of wreckage of a war of gods. Tiamat and Apsu—the mum and dad of the gods—go to war against their kids for making too much noise. But mum and dad ended up losing to the young warrior god, Marduk, who fashions the universe out of the bits and pieces of the carnage. The story embodies the common pagan idea that creation is ‘haphazard’ & ‘tainted’: matter is ‘alien’ stuff—accidental, unpredictable, possessed.

If that was your perspective, and you read Genesis 1, you’d be immediately struck by all ways Genesis stresses the beauty, orderliness, and goodness of physical creation. Pagans thought of creation as a kind of ‘war’; but Genesis sees it as a ballet: calm, patterned, graceful. Each creative scene in Gen 1 has 4-fold pattern:

(1) commences with a simple command,

(2) tells of the fulfillment of the command,

(3) includes an elaboration of the command, and

(4) concludes with the day formula, “there was evening, there was morning.” 

The first paragraph sets up the pattern for the rest of the show:

[1. Command] And God said, “Let there be light,” and

 [2. Fulfillment] there was light. 

[3. Elaboration] God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.”

[4. Day formula] And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day. (Genesis 1:3–5)

And on it goes through the chapter like a carefully choreographed dance …

There’s a theological point being made here: the universe is not accidental; it’s the work of an orderly mind.  Then there’s the way the days correspond to each other like a canvas to a painting: days 1, 2, 3 are the canvas, days 4, 5, 6 are the painting. It’s hard to picture, so we’ll put an image in the show notes. But basically, day 1 is the canvas to day 4’s painting, Day 2 is the canvas to Day 5’s painting, and day 3 is the canvas to Day 6’s painting. So, On Day 1 ‘light’ itself is created; on Day 4 the actual ‘lights’ of the ‘sun’ and ‘moon’ are put in place. On Day 2 the ‘vault’ of the sky is created along with its counterpoint, the waters of the sea; and on Day 5 the sky is filled with birds and sea is filled with fish. On Day 3 the ‘land’ and ‘plants’ are created; on Day 6 animals and humans are created to walk on the land and enjoy the produce. This deliberately leaves Day 7 hanging, as a day of rest, to reflect on the newly filled canvas of creation.

Then there’s the very interesting comment repeated through the Genesis creation account that God made things “according to their kinds” and, what’s more, that God put certain creative powers in things so that they too could produce things according to their kinds. So, in Gen 1:11 we read:

“Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: [so the land becomes a co-creator with God] seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds …

The point begin made is that the genius of the Creator is imprinted into physical reality, into nature, so that acts with certain aims to produce certain outcomes that reflect God’s intention. There are tons of other ways Genesis makes this point, but the basic idea is that the creation isn’t accidental. It’s ordered and rational and is a functioning whole that acts according to certain rational principles.

It’s a remarkable departure from ancient pagan thinking. It’s true that the best Greek philosophers came to roughly the same conclusion centuries later. Aristotle, for example, (900 years after Moses) said the Forms of things exist within the things themselves. So he would say something like “the form of the oak tree is in the acorn. The form of the adult human is already in the foetus”. And so on. And so nature operates in orderly fashion, following the direction, we might say the equations, that are built into matter itself. All things act according to organising principle inherent in them, which Aristotle called the logos. Behind the logos, he insisted in Metaphysics Book 12 is the MIND, Unmoved Mover, the final cause of all motion and purpose. God!!

What the Jews had been saying for centuries … the Greeks declared by logical deduction. Nature operates according to the principles of rational genius, and the genius behind it all is the Mind of God. This is why John’s Gospel is so happy to employ the Greek philosophical word logos. I talked about this more in an Undeceptions single recently – can’t remember what it’s called – but the basic point is, John says:

“In the beginning was the logos and the logos was with God and the logos was God …”

And then he shocks us with:

“The logos became flesh and dwelt among us!”

In other words, the rational Genius of the creator – the same genius imprinted in creation – actually became a human being, Jesus Christ. Jesus is the logos. Jesus is the genius of creation. John wasn’t alone. Paul says something similar:

“In Jesus all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible … all things have been created through him and for him … and in him all things hold together.”

It’s right to think of Jesus as a first-century Galilean Jew, a historical figure we can investigate with the rules of historical enquiry. But from the beginning, from our earliest documents, Christians were saying much, much more about him. They were saying He is the genius by and through which creation came into being … and, what’s more, He is the ongoing principle that holds them all together in every moment. This is why the first modern scientists all saw their work as a kind of worship. Because when they understood the mathematics of planetary motion or the chemistry by which certain things happen, they are glimpsing the logos, who had a historical name, Jesus. "

The character and disposition of an evangelical theologian

Reading my previous post about Evangelical Theology: An Introduction by Karl Barth may leave the impression that Barth mostly discusses academic theology as an academic discipline in which the theologian strives for objectivity and distances themselves from the object of study. However, the emphasis and perspective of the book is quite different. Much of the book is about the personal character and disposition that an evangelical theologian must have. Theology is personal and practical. It is subjective in that the object of study [the triune God that was revealed in history and recorded in Scripture] places the theologian in "crisis". The theologian is judged, critiqued, and loved by the living Word.

The Table of Contents illustrates how much of the book is about the life of an evangelical theologian.

• Commentary
• I. The Place of Theology
  • The Word
  • The Witnesses
  • The Community
  • The Spirit
• II. Theological Existence
  • Wonder
  • Concern
  • Commitment
  • Faith
• III. The Threat to Theology
  • Solitude
  • Doubt
  • Temptation
  • Hope
• IV. Theological Work
• Prayer
• Study
• Service
• Love

The importance of humility recurs throughout the book. An evangelical theologian must be humble. They cannot operate with presuppositions, dismiss tradition, and or place themself above historical witnesses to God's self-revelation.

"The position of theology,... , can in no wise be exalted above that of the biblical witnesses. The post-Biblical theologian may, no doubt, possess a better astronomy, geography, zoology, psychology, physiology, and so on than these biblical witnesses possessed; but as for the Word of God, he is not justified in comporting himself in relationship to those witnesses as though he knew more about the Word than they. 

 

He is neither a president of a seminary, nor the Chairman of the Board of some Christian Institute of Advanced Theological Studies, who might claim some authority over the prophets and apostles. He cannot grant or refuse them a hearing as though they were colleagues on the faculty. Still less is he a high-school teacher authorized to look over their shoulder benevolently or crossly, to correct their notebooks, or to give them good, average, or bad marks. 

 

Even the smallest, strangest, simplest, or obscurest among the biblical witnesses has an incomparable advantage over even the most pious, scholarly, and sagacious latter-day theologian." (page 31)

Evangelical theology is critical in the sense of being self-critical. All ideas are provisional approximations to the truth and must continually be critiqued and open to revision or discarding. This critical element is quite distinct from the "criticisms" that were fashionable in Barth's time such as historical criticism, source criticism, redaction criticism,... They were methods that tended to become presuppositions and placed the theologian above the text.

Humility for an evangelical theological means that their theology is all about God, not themself or their theology (system, method, content). The last chapter of the book, entitled "Love", contrasts agape love to eros love.

Love as Eros, is, in general terms, the primordially powerful desire, urge, impulse, and endeavor by which a created being seeks his own self-assertion, satisfaction, realization, and fulfillment in his relation to something else. He strives to draw near to this other person or thing, to win it for himself, to take it to himself, and to make it his own as clearly and definitively as possible. And in a special sense, love, as scientific Eros, is the same desire in its intellectual form.

.....Scientific, theological Eros has perpetually oscillated concerning the object which it should present to man for the sake of his self-assertion and self-fulfillment. That is to say, theological Eros can be directed either predominantly (and perhaps even exclusively) toward God or predominantly (and, once again, perhaps even exclusively) toward man. (page 197-8)

 

A narcissist cannot be an evangelical theologian.

The book challenges readers to reflect on their character and disposition if they aspire to be an evangelical theologian. At the beginning of the book, Barth discusses how everyone is a theologian, regardless of whether they identify themselves as such. 

The main weakness of the book is that it does not engage in a concrete and substantive way with the life or teachings of Jesus, such as his parables and the Sermon on the Mount. Perhaps this is because Barth was embedded in the Reformed theological tradition. The book would have a sharper edge if it engaged with Anabaptist tradition. On the other hand, the book provides a wonderful framework, motivation, and invitation to dive into a fresh reading of the Gospels and let the living Word speak to the reader/theologian through the Power of the Holy Spirit.

The beauty and paradoxes of the power of God

How powerful is God? What is the nature of God's power? How is the power of God similar and different to the power of humans?

This month in the theology reading group we are discussing The Power of God and the gods of Power by Daniel L. Migliore. A helpful summary of the book is here.

The book is marked by clarity, insight, and humility. Migliore engages with the Bible and theologians (mostly Protestant) from various eras and perspectives. It is distinctly Trinitarian, is wary of abstractions, and teases out practical implications to churches and individuals. 

Here are a few of the things that stood out to me.

Human agency reflects that everyone, regardless of their situation, has some power and this is an important part of their humanity. It is diminished when we are now allowed to express it, feel we can't or don't. (pages 2-7).

God's power is radically different from the human will to power, e.g., to dominate others. God reveals his strength (power) "most awesomely in the humility of a servant Lord." (p. 15).

As for any concept, it is important to consider what images and metaphors we associate with it.

The Greek gods were each associated with an irresistible power: sex, wine, war, and destruction, ... They promote the myth that we are helpless while in the grip of their power. This myth undermines our agency and the associated human dignity. (cf. 1 Cor. 10:13). (p. 9) 

In American culture, the images of power include sheer almightiness (God is like Superman), captive power (God is a divine butler at our beck and call), and ineptness or indifference. (p. 20)

If we misconceive divine power we will misconceive and misuse human power. (p. 32)

The activity of the Trinity defines who God is and the nature of the power that God exercises: creative, suffering, and transformative love. (p. 57)

Scholastic theology has a fraught legacy as its metaphysical approach to understanding God is relatively independence from the Biblical witness. It framed God's power in abstract terms and as absolute (omnipotent), immutable, and impassible. (pp. 62-65).

There is an interesting transition in the history of Christian art, where before Constantine Jesus was portrayed as a shepherd and later as a king. (p. 67)

In considering what role power should play in the church there has been and continues to be a false dichotomy. The first choice is accepting the reality of power in any human institution, exercising it strongly, sometimes to the point of accepting abuses of power as just and unfortunate reality. The second choice is to eschew any sorts of structures that will involve members exercising power over others. These two choices were embodied in the Reformed and Anabaptist traditions, respectively.

The power of the triune God is seen in actions as Creator, Redeemer, and Transformer.

The life of the church is to be a living witness to the nature of the power of God. This is reflected in participants are not passive observers, servant leadership, and not being self-focussed. The church should not to be coercive, including in evangelism. (p.68)

Unfortunately, widespread reports over the past decade of abuse: sexual, spiritual, and financial, reflect how much the church has failed. This is relevant to the book we will discuss next month, When Narcissism Comes to Church.

On theodicy, "suffering is the greatest mystery of human life." (p. 83)

"God freely suffers for the salvation of others - that is the deepest message of Scripture regarding human suffering." (p. 85).

 "Suffering is not primarily a theoretical problem but an agonising reality of life." (p. 87).

"Homogeneity in the Christian community is therefore a contradiction of the gospel of God's omnipotent love, which frees us to accept as brothers and sisters those considered strangers and enemies. A community that calls itself Christian and is complacent about its economic, racial, and cultural insularity is a community without the power of the Spirit..

Some church leaders advocate an outreach program for congregations that would focus on people most similar to their present members. But evangelism that deliberately aims at homogeneity for the sake of church growth is a display of spiritual weakness rather than real spiritual strength. ... (p. 106)"

The final chapter considers the practical implications of the Christian theology of the power of God for the dialogue between Christians and Muslims. This is one of the most helpful and constructive discussions I have encountered about the ground and nature of such dialogue. Mutual respect means acknowledging both common ground and real differences. Both Muslims and Christians affirm the unity of God and are against idolatry and immorality. Their central difference concerns fundamentally different perspectives on the power of God. Christians affirm the "weakness" of God profoundly manifest in both the incarnation and the crucifixion of Jesus.

Integrated mission for global historic Christianity

This month at the theology reading group we discussed Integrated Mission: Recovering a Christian Spirituality for Evangelical Integral Transformation by Sarah Nicholl and published by Langham.

Sarah is a member of the reading group. The book is based on her recent Ph.D. thesis. She recently gave a talk on the book at Theology on Tap Brisbane.

Sarah considers the Lausanne Movement through the statements issued at their three global congresses: Lausanne (1974), Manilla (1989), and Cape Town (2011). [The book was completed because the most recent congress, held in Seoul last month]. 

Her focus is on the lack of discussion of the role of Christian spirituality in mission. She creatively addresses this by listening to four voices: John Wesley, Ignatius of Loyola, Orlando Costas, and Segundo Galilea. 

Major themes in the book. These themes are to varying degrees explicit and implicit. 

Integration. Since its origin, Lausanne has stimulated debates about the relationship and relative priority for Christians of evangelism (defined as the verbal proclamation of the Gospel to those who do not identify as followers of Jesus) and social action, such as serving the poor and addressing unjust social structures. These debates led to the concept of integral mission, which does not prioritise one but integrates them. This perspective was pioneered by some attendees, including Costas, who are sometimes identified as "radicals".

The book explicitly focuses on the integration of spirituality and mission (being and doing, acts of piety and of mercy, heart and hands,...). Implicit is a broader perspective on the need for integrative thinking and action in other areas. Dualities such as public/private and secular/sacred are briefly mentioned.

Ecumenical. Both Lausanne and Sarah identify as evangelical and Protestant. Nevertheless, unlike some, Sarah considers there is much to learn about mission, spirituality, and the Christian life from Catholics. Two of her dialogue partners, Ignatius and Galilea are Catholic. Ignatius pioneered The Spiritual Exercises, including the Examen, that are increasingly used by Protestants. Sarah is also sympathetic to a form of sacramentalism.

Sacramentalism. This sees all of life as sacred and considers that engagement with even mundane aspects of life can lead to a rich experience of God, just as for acts that are explicitly identified as sacraments, such as baptism, the Eucharist (holy communion), or marriage. Sarah explicitly discusses a sacramental view of mission in terms of Matthew 25. In that passage, Jesus says that those who feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and provide shelter, are actually doing it to him. Hence, such acts of mercy are encounters with Jesus.

Ministry at the margins should be central. Jesus was a friend of sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. He embraced lepers, cripples, the demon-possessed, Samaritans, and Gentiles. He came from Galilee and commenced his ministry there. Jesus was scorned by the religious establishment and warned of the dangers of wealth, social status, and worldly power. In summary, Jesus operated on the margins and embraced those on the margins. 

Yet, the history of Christianity has been characterised by an unrelenting desire and embrace of power, wealth, social status, and formal institutionalisation. People on the margins (social, economic, health, political, ethnic, geographical, educational, theological, gender,...) have been and are marginalised. Nevertheless, again and again, in the long term, at the centre the church dwindles, loses vitality, and diminishes in influence. In contrast, on the margins, the church grows in numbers, dynamism, and influence. Shifts and struggles in Lausanne are a reflection of the Majority World involvement.

All four voices engaged by Sarah testify to the importance of ministry from and to the margins. This was most clearly articulated by Orlando Costas, who emphasised the Galilee roots of Jesus' ministry.

Similarity in difference. The four voices came from vastly different contexts, spanning 400 hundred years, from Europe to Latin America, and from Catholic to Protestant. Yet they were all involved with mission, albeit in different ways. Furthermore, they all believed in and practised integrated mission. Their outreach was sustained and influenced by a personal spirituality and visa verse. Sarah follows David Tracy who considered that such "similarity in difference" can be a pointer to truth. 

A person or community's perspective on any matter is influenced by their own context and life experience. Assessing the level of influence is difficult, especially whether the context is determinative of the perspective. This is important because if context is determinative it means the perspective may not be valid or helpful for other contexts. On the other hand, different contexts producing similar perspectives may be suggestive of truth.  

A major theme in the background

The fraught legacy of modernism for mission. Sarah briefly mentions the views of David Bosch. His classic book, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission,  has a chapter that is 90 pages long, Mission in the Wake of the Enlightenment. Bosch identifies seven contours of the Enlightenment worldview:

1. The supremacy of reason

2. Subject-object dichotomy

3. Elimination of the idea of purpose

4. Optimism in Progress.

5. Distinction between facts and values

6. All problems are solvable in principle

7. Humans are emancipated and autonomous individuals

These issues are also explored in depth in next month's book, Mangoes or Bananas? The Quest for an Authentic Asian Christian Theology, by Hwa Yung

Implications for me

There were several things that the book challenged me on personally. These were not necessarily new ideas, but rather the struggles of practical and regular implementation. Hearing from the four voices was helpful and challenging.

Be engaged personally, especially with the poor. Just giving money is not adequate.

Spiritual practices and mission are communal and not just individual.

Contemplative reading and prayer. 

Minister on the margins. Listen to marginal voices. Engage with the suffering of those on the margins. Empower those on the margins.