Having Two Legs

Thursday, November 11, 2004

Creation

It seems like the doctrine of Creation does a lot more than we give it credit for.

If God created everything and out of nothing, then we didn't. And if we didn't everything is grace. Everything comes to us a gift, undeserved favor in every nook and cranny. But this also means that salvation is necessarily a gift also. Not that we don't think that already. But we often put a lot of our effort into showing that we are unable to save ourselves (total depravity, irrisistable grace...) all that stuff. I'm of course in basic agreement with the point of it all. But it seems like Creation already affirms that nothing is ours to take credit for ultimately.

In the story of history we do things, we have things, we use things, and in so far as Creation is real, we really act, do, have, and use things. No problem. But in so far as God created it all, it's all from Him and for Him. We're not gnostics: faith has a body. But the body was created. So when it comes to salvation of course we're saved by grace and that not of ourselves: it was a gift. "Not of works so that no man can boast" seems like another way of saying... you didn't make yourself, silly.

Pelagianism and anyone else wanting to give some credit to man must be at their foundations creational heresies. A denial of sola gratia is an attempt at retelling the creation story. So also with every form of ingratitude. We'd have made it better, we grumble to ourselves.

This is why salvation is rightly described as re-creation.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Drama in the Lab

I'm teaching high school Chemistry this year, something for which I am utterly unqualified. I took Chemistry in high school. That's one credential. I remember some of it. That's the other. But I'm thankful for the opportunity. I'm thankful for Chemistry and Chemists, and scientific endeavors in general.

It's the way God made the world to see life out of our head. He gave us certain eyes through which we see everything. And everything we see has a way of bleeding into everything else we see. And this applies to the rest of our bodies. There's a sense in which we are always leaving vestiges of ourselves everywhere we go, and at the same time, there's a sense in which we are dragging our past with us into the future. But I was talking about Chemistry.

That is to say, I'm an actor. Or more truly, I've occasionally had the opportunity to take part in some drama. But everyone acts. But that's not my point. It's the Chemists that I'm actually thinking about and the computer programmers and the all the other scientists out there. Yeah, you. You are acting. You pretend the world is perfect. You, geometricians and engineers, you act as though the world contains circles and straight lines. You pantomime the world with equalities and perfect symmetries. And that's fine. I love suspension bridges; we're grateful for our cars.

I just wanted to point out that every science has to isolate whatever it studies for just a moment. It's impossible to study something without imagining it by itself. But of course nothing ever occurs in absolute isolation. Science is dramatic art. It puts its object of study on a stage, places certain props around it, and tells a story through it. If the scientist tells a good story, his findings will benefit the real world. But the scientist must always remember that he's pretending in the lab. In real life, chemical equations and reactions are never balanced and circles do not exist.

War: Catholic and Schismatic

War divides. It cuts nations and people apart; it tears and rips like a terrible machine devouring families and churches and faces. War stings. It burns fissures through communities and cultures. It rumbles below in the deeps and swallows brothers and fathers and mothers. War separates friends. It severs loyalties; it bursts old wine skins. It dislocates limbs. War divides.

War unites. Where men refused to look in one anothers' eyes; they unblinkly charge eachother to the death. War brings nations crashing against eachother like opposing tides: rushing, roaring together to mingle and mix. War brings brothers together; it puts them face to face, hand to hand. It makes them bleed for eachother. War is reunion. It reunites friends, families, and communities. Where life could not help, death provides the calm. The field is the table where all are one.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Fall

Fall is dripping out of the sky this morning, making the streets shiny and pristine.

Friday, August 06, 2004

the high post

I'm a little slow on the uptake, but the fellows over at the high post look as through they're having a swell time. Friends of mine, I commend their thoughts, and yes, their words to you. One of these days someone needs to make a complete list of all the possible meanings of their title. Or perhaps it's already been done.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

Strong by Use

In the eleventh canto of Book II of Spenser's Faerie Queene, Prince Arthur defends Alma's castle from hoardes assaulting its five major forts. This castle represents the human body, and there are a number of allegorical points that Spenser makes from this. But what is particularly interesting is that the five major defenses of the "body" are the five senses. We are often taught to distrust our senses, but Spenser shows them as particular points of protection from the attacks of evil. Of course these defenses are in need of a savior, Prince Arthur in this case, but they are our defenses none the less. Our task then in "mortifying the flesh" and "casting aside everything that entangles" is not ignoring, or worse, fleeing from our senses. Rather as believers, who have been raised to new life by faith in Christ through baptism (Rom. 6), our duty is to fortify and use our senses as they were designed to be used, seeking out what is truly good. And this fortification does not come about through strenous mental excersize. It comes about through lawful enjoyment and celebration of the tastes and smells of food, listening to symphonies and jam sessions, touching friends and lovers, and watching waterfalls, trees, and tornadoes. And this is what the writer of Hebrews says: "Solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil."

Sunday, July 25, 2004

Why didn't you lie?

In Genesis 20 Abraham lies concerning Sarah, his wife, when they travel through Gerar to live in the land of King Abimelech. In Genesis 26, Isaac, when confronted with a famine in the land, goes down to dwell in Gerar, and he, like his father, lies to King Abimelech concerning Rebeccah, his wife, likewise saying that she is his sister.

So when Jacob sends his sons down to Egypt when there is a famine in the land of Canaan, and they return with the news that the ruler of the land (Joseph) has accused them of being spies and are required to bring their youngest brother to him. It should not come as too great of a surprise that part of Jacob's response is the question: "Why did you deal so wrongfully with me as to tell the man whether you had still another brother?" That is, 'Why didn't you lie?' Why were you so free with information about your family? The family custom seems to have been protection of family through deception. Of course these deceptions were always found out, but they always resulted in great blessing for Abraham and Isaac.

The concern of Abraham and Isaac had been for their wives, that the ruler of the land (Abimelech) would take them. Now the ruler of Egypt has demanded that the youngest son of Jacob be brought to him to prove their innocence. The tables have been turned. Perhaps Joseph knew these customs of his family and for this reason asked very pointed questions, as the brothers relate that he did (Gen. 43:7). Notice now, it is Joseph who is doing the deceiving. He is the righteous deceiver, but his family well receive great blessing nevertheless.

Thursday, July 22, 2004

Comments Back
So Blogger has been revamping their s

yst
em and I don't know how it works.
But I have comments now
(again).

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

The Saracen

I saw his fiercesome face
beleaguered by a daily-hourly bending
sun, the flash and grin of his dreadful blade
borne aloft and gripped with concrete fingers.

His eyes like daggers mocking with heat,
sped storied curses through the victim’s throat,
and I saw them turn and latching hold,
defy his arms’ attempts to lift aught
with which to defend from the flying foe.

The quiet paces sent up swirling spits of dust
like Edenic mists, a slice of space
unheeding the rush and roar, and headless
stood the curse-bound corpse, a mast-less
bark—toyed by torque, then bidden sink.

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

The Ten Spies

It cannot be a coincidence that in Genesis 42 and Numbers 13 both tell stories of ten spies. In Genesis 42, the ten sons of Jacob are accused by Joseph (in disguise) as being spies of the land of Egypt. In Numbers 13, the ten spies return from the promise land, decide that it is inaccessible (based on the stature of its inhabitants), and begin making plans to return to Egypt. Of course in Gen. 42, the ten men are not really spies, they are merely looking for food in the wake of a famine. In Num. 13, the men are spies, but the fact that they find plenty of food, does not secure their interest in the land.

--there are ten ‘spies’ in both stories
--there are two ‘others’ in both: (Joseph/Benjamin) and (Joshua/Caleb)
--Joseph is the vice-ruler of over all of Egypt/Joshua is the vice-ruler over all of Israel
--In Gen. 42, the ten end up in Egypt via Joseph. In Num 13, the ten make plans to return to Egypt, but die by a plague before the Lord.
--In Gen. 42, the famine is in Canaan. In Num 13, Israel is in the barren wilderness.
--In Gen 42, Egypt is the land with plenty to eat. In Num 13, Canaan is flowing with milk and honey. Both lands have good things flowing out of them.
--Both groups of ‘spies’ return with bundles/clusters: money bundles/grape clusters

What does this all mean? The story of Joseph and his brothers is clearly a story of Joseph testing his brothers. Joseph is testing his brothers to see if they have learned to give themselves up for others, rather than sacrificing others for themselves. And this theme of service is connected with the greater story of Egypt. God placed Joseph at the head of Egypt in order to preserve life (Gen. 45:5), using his influence and power as an instrument of salvation to the nations. Without Egypt (& Joseph), the famine would have swallowed up the nations surrounding Egypt. But Egypt is, in this story, a type of the Canaan to come. It is also, in light of the book of Genesis a picture of a transfigured Eden. It is a garden in the midst of a wilderness. Rivers flow out of this land giving life to the nations. Joseph is a new Adam ruling and tending the land in righteousness. The story of Joseph and Egypt is a story of patience and the reality that greatness is found in giving up one’s life, laying down one’s life for another. This story closes Genesis, placing it as the bookend opposite the Garden of Eden at the beginning. This is a shadowy picture of what that garden should have become, but for Adam’s sin. Egypt pictures the good life.

Joseph finds through testing his brothers, that they too have learned this lesson. Judah, in particular, the brother who had organized the selling of Joseph into slavery, is willing to stand in Benjamin’s place if he cannot return to his father. They are willing to give up their own lives for others.

This is the larger context of Numbers 13-14. Now, God himself is testing his people to see if they have learned this lesson. What is the lesson? Israel is now a corporate “Joseph”. They, like Joseph were sold into slavery and made to labor for the Egyptians. As Joseph was delivered from the dungeons through miracles and wonders (interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams), God delivered Israel from Egypt by performing signs and wonders in the land of Egypt. God has destroyed the greatest civilization in the world, leveling its military, its economy, and slaying all of its first born sons. Because Egypt had forgotten the God of Joseph and Pharaoh did not know the Lord, God cast that nation down. That great nation had been the source of life to the world, but now God has chosen Israel to be his chosen nation. Israel is to be a kingdom of priests (Ex. 19:5-6). And God is testing them. Will Israel be a priestly nation, giving life to the nations around her, being an Eden in the midst of wilderness and famine? Will Israel now be what Egypt had been? God tests the children of Israel, and they fail miserably. Instead of seeing Canaan as a rich and good land capable of giving life, they see the land as a ‘devouring’ land. Instead of seeing the promise land as an opportunity to give and to serve, they see the land as overbearing and they complain. Instead of being willing to give themselves up for their wives and children, they want to return to slavery.

Therefore they will not be given the land. They will not be placed like Joseph as head over the nations. They are selfish, conceited, and fearful, and God will wait until they are ready to give themselves up as living sacrifices. He will send them back down into the dungeon of the wilderness. God will wait until there are Josephs who will rule the land with wisdom. He will wait until there are Judahs willing and ready to give themselves up for their brothers. He will wait until Israel is prepared to be a priestly nation, a nation that serves the nations of the world, teaching and instructing them to fear and serve the true God. Then God will lead them into the land and give them victory. He will make them to be salvation for the world, the life of the world.

Friday, July 02, 2004

The Icon of God

What is the difference between man and animal? Genesis seems to answer the question as 'the image of God'. We are given a stamp and a seal of the Triune God, and more than that, we are that stamp and seal for the world. The imago dei means that we are supposed to be imitators of God. We are to be artisans and scientists and poets, creators of worlds, workers, and people who take rest after work is completed.

Rationality is often listed as one of the first characteristics that separate man and animals. The ability to think is said to be one of our defining characteristics. But we do not see this in the Scriptures. Genesis in particular shows a God who speaks, creates, evaluates, divides, names, blesses, organizes, delegates, and finally rests. These are the things that make us image bearers. The image of God is, for the most part, something visible and tangible. It can be seen and evaluated. And as God created a son (Adam) to pass responsibilities on to, so we too are given the opportunity to be fruitful even as God was fruitful. Thus even the commands that God gave to our first parents were the means by which we show and effect God's image on the world. Being an image bearer means being an image bestower. As we rule, fill, and adorn the earth we emboss it more and more with the Creator's image.

That is the difference between man and animal. We do certain things. We act in certain ways. We perform specific tasks in specific ways, putting our image which is the Triune image, on our acts. I have a dog and I believe that at this point, he is far more sentient than my son. But my son is nevertheless an image bearer. He acts in ways that imitate his Maker. And this means that he, at 4wks., is not only an image bearer but an image bestower. We are the image of God in and on the world. We are the icons of God, impressing His life on the world.

Shot of Spenser

Wrath, jealousy, grief, love do thus expel:
Wrath is a fire, and jealousy a weed,
Grief is a flood, and love a monster fell;
The fire of sparks, the weed of little seed,
The flood of drops, the monster filth did breed:
But sparks, seed, drops, and filth do thus delay;
The sparks soon quench, the springing seed outweed,
The drops dry up, and filth wipe clean away:
So shall wrath, jealousy, grief, love die and decay

-Faerie Queene Book II, Canto IV, Stanza 35

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Baptized

River was baptized this last Sunday. Below I've posted the prayers and exhortation from the rite.

(Before the Baptism)
Almighty and eternal God, who through the flood, according to your righteous judgment, condemned the unfaithful world, and according to your great mercy, saved faithful Noah, even eight persons, and has drowned hard-hearted Pharaoh with all his army in the Red Sea, and has led your people Israel dry through it, thereby prefiguring this bath of your holy baptism, and through the baptism of your dear child, our Lord Jesus Christ, has sanctified and set apart the Jordan and all water for a saving flood, and an ample washing away of sins: we pray that through your same infinite mercy you would graciously look down upon this your child, and bless him with a right faith in the spirit, so that through this saving flood all that was born in him from Adam and all which he has added thereto might be drowned and submerged; and that he may be separated from the unfaithful, and preserved in the holy ark of Christendom dry and safe, and may be ever fervent in spirit and joyful in hope to serve your name, so that he with all the faithful may be worthy to inherit your promise of eternal life, through Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

In this morning's sermon, we considered the continuities and discontinuities between the Old and New Covenant with regard to liturgy. Contrary to some Protestant traditions, Jesus did not teach that the New Covenant would dispense with rites, signs, material substances, and physical actions in worship. That is not what Jesus meant when He spoke of "Spiritual" worship. And one great sign of that, as I suggested, is that we do perform rites using material substances and physical actions - the rites of baptism and the Supper. Every time we baptize, we are declaring our continuity with Israel of the Old Testament.
Paedobaptism says even more, and says it more emphatically. Baptizing babies says that the boundaries of the church are in the same place as the boundaries of ancient Israel, the people of Abraham. We are saying that we are still the same people, and the same kind of people, as Israel was.
But baptism also declares our differences from the Old Covenant. In the Old Covenant, the mark of inclusion was a cut in the flesh - the foreskin of the child was cut off. The rite of entry into Israel was a rite of severing, and this not only pointed to the threat of being "cut off" for covenant unfaithfulness, but also pointed to the fact that Israel was herself "severed" from the rest of the world, distinguished by clothing, food, and other customs from the Gentiles. Further, circumcision was a kind of sacrificial rite, in which a body was cut into two pieces and blood was shed. That was fulfilled in Jesus, and we no longer perform a rite of separation, a rite of cutting, a rite of severing, a sacrificial entry into the church. We instead perform a rite that symbolizes the inclusion of Jew, Gentile, slave, free, man, woman, white, black, Hispanic, and whoever in one body in Christ. A child entered Israel through shedding blood; blood is a sign of life, but pouring out blood is a sign of death. But in the NC, we no longer live under the ministry of condemnation and death; we live in the covenant of life, symbolized by the living and life-giving water of baptism.
For you, Toby and Jenny, this means that River's baptism should be a constant reminder that you live under the New Covenant, not the Old. The Old Covenant came with great promises, the promise that Yahweh would dwell among His people and be the God of His people. But Hebrews tells us that the second covenant comes with better promises. The second covenant declares that the Son has come to tabernacle among us in human flesh. The second covenant announces that the Father is seeking worshipers to worship Him in Spirit and truth. And the second covenant comes with the promise of the Spirit, as Peter said at Pentecost: the promise is for you and for your children, and to all who are far off. Toby and Jenny, remind yourselves often of the meaning of baptism as God's pledge to you and to River; and teach him to trust this promise of God, the promise of the new covenant, the better covenant, the covenant of water not the covenant of blood.

(After the Baptism)
Almighty God, heavenly Father, we give you eternal praise and thanks, that you have granted and bestowed upon this child your fellowship, that he has been engrafted into the new life of the church through your holy baptism, that he has now been incorporated into your beloved Son, our only Savior, and is now your child and heir. Grant, most loving and faithful Father, that Toby and Jenny might prove our thankfulness for your great grace, faithfully bringing up this your child through all the situations of life and that we with this child as well, might more and more die to the world and be joined to the life of your Son, our Lord Jesus, and daily grow in grace, that we might ever praise you and be a blessing to our neighbor. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and with the Holy Spirit, one God, age after age. Amen.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Ninja Creature

I look at my son. He flings his arms up and down with a knotted brow. I look at him and wonder who I am. He’s a ninja. He needs not see the world to sense the enemies at hand. I poke him in the gut, and he flashes flayed hands, ready to strike. I don’t know what to do so I just keeping poking and watching.

I know he is another person, but I somehow feel that I am looking down into an enchanted pool staring at my reflection. Who am I? I did not know three weeks ago, that I was a father of a son. I did not know this about myself. I did not know my son was named for the veins of the earth. I did not know my son was a ninja, or that his eyebrows furrowed like sand dunes. And now as a result, I feel as though I know myself even less, having learned these bits. Who knows what I might find out next? Who knows but I might do something terrible. If I might be the father of a tiny creature like this, what sorts of other powers might I have?

I stop poking him because I don’t know what I might do. I just stare, silently wondering if I might bore holes into face and make his eye brows slide across his face and sink into oblivion. I wonder who he is because I wonder who I am. I am what my son is and will be. He is who I am and will be. Do I know and live with a mountain climber? Do I change the diapers of an orator? Do the fingers of an artist grip my thumb? He arches his back and looks with wild eyes at me. Don’t you know who I am? He seems to ask. You did this, how can you not know? I can only shake my head.

All I know is that you are some part of me that I did not know existed. I try to explain this in as simple of terms as possible. But he’s looking away. He’s looking at the wall. Of course there is some sense in which everyone I know makes up who I am. But this new person lives with me. His arrival seems more dramatic than even my wife’s. Maybe that’s because I knew my wife for six years before we were married. River only gave me nine months notice. I was changing as fast as he came. I was becoming him as quickly as he was becoming me. I poke him again.

He kicks and flails. His head rolls back and forth on a universal joint. His mouth is open. I try to guess, You’re a bird! He keeps moving. He didn’t even seem to notice my guess. I’m not the father of a bird. I almost feel relieved. He threatens me again with his ninja stance. His eyebrows burry his eyes and his cheeks turn pink. There’s a moment of silence and still, broken immediately by his crackling voice.

I am the father of a crying baby. That’s who I am. I made a helpless ninja creature, who cries when I tell him he’s me.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Apolotics

I generally enjoy reading World Magazine, the weekly cultural and political standard from a Biblical and conservative point of view. But the boring small mindedness of their political endorsements is regularly annoying. Admittedly, it fits hand and glove with the timid defeatism of American voters in general. I also cringe at the sputtering, red faced invocations to vote. One Southern Baptist writer wrings his hands pleading with his fellow churchmen to register to vote. Less than half of the denomination are apparently registered. He pleads with the masses. He pleads. But I hum loudly and stop my ears. Not that I don't think people should vote. Go ahead, do the deed. In fact, I think a Christian ought to. But I will not plead with you. I will not wring my hands. I will not stammer or beg. As a good friend once said, voting is like taking out the trash: it certainly needs to be done, but there are more important things to do. But this handwringing is not a little unlike someone being really concerned about a tree with poisonous apples. If we all pitch in, he says, and pick an apple, they'll all be gone and the tree will be safe. Someone ought to explain to the man how trees and fruit work. And likewise politics. Civil and familial governement are two of the trees that grow out of the soil of the Church. Economics, arts, and entertainment are other such trees. These trees ought to grow, but certain kinds of soil produce certain kinds of trees with certain kinds of fruit. And until this baptist brother and all our friends realize that the fruit is inevitable unless the soil is changed, the tree will go on producing lethal products. No amount of voting, legislating, or campaigning will change the fact that the American Church is the problem. We are the cause, we are the infection, we are the target that God is aiming at. If the Secularists were really on their toes, they'd start deporting Christians. We are the Jonahs that are causing this storm. We have run from God by offering our children to the idols of our nation often killing them in their mothers' wombs. We have bought and sold forgiveness like a comodity, we have stolen the tithe, and dishonored His day. We have not only put up with immorality, but we have condoned it by ordaining bishops and clergymen who share pasttimes with such infamous characters as Michael Jackson.

And another thing: Why do we insist on playing the media's stupid games. Why do we buy their two party system? Why do we even play by their rules? Why don't we just stop paying attention to their little gimmicks and not settle for anything less than good. We operate, as Christians, in an entirely compromised way. We are so sure of defeat, that our sole motivation is based on 'the lesser of two evils'. We do our politics on the basis of who we don't want in office. And this is usually based entirely on selfish motivations. If I have a choice between someone hitting me with a two by four and mace, which do I chose? But politics just isn't like that. We are first responsible for our vote before God. He sees our hearts, our intentions, and our faith. If we vote out of fear, worry, bitterness, or simple cowardice then we are not voting in faith. But if God is our God, then we cannot be shaken. We must vote for who we believe would actually rule in righteousness. Righteousness. Not half-hearted, plastic smiling righteousness. Real God-fearing, greed-hating righteousness. We as country do not deserve such a leader. We deserve the sadistic triumverate of Stalin, Hitler, and Nero turned lose and ticked off, nukes at their disposal. That's what we deserve, but we ought to vote in faith, praying for mercy. And if there is no worthy candidate, it's still legal to write a name in.

But for all this I've written, I assure you that I'm smiling. We are ants. We are gnats. We are warring tribes of bees buzzing in a passioned frenzy. And I smile. I smile and play frizbee. I go bowling, and I sip kool-aid with my pinky in the air. I occasionally pass the time with a good popsicle. I really like grape. We must see our sin, and we must confess and forsake it. But forgiveness is real, and the huff and puff of the World is an ice cube on the sidewalk.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Summer Reading List

While the sun is shining bright and the evenings are for sweatshirts, I hope to dive from that large, overhanging branch called Spring and find myself submerged beneath the following pages. And I will do this amazing bit of acrobatics with a cherry popsicle in my hand and red smears on my cheeks.

I'm in the middle of Light From Old Times by the Bishop JC Ryle as well as Holiness by the same. I've also started, but have neglected to finish Law and Liberty by Mr. Rushdoony. The Everlasting Man of Chesterton is bent half way, but I've not yet seen the other side. Although I cannot place the entire blame on a sometimes reading group, Barth's Doctrine of the Word of God 1.1 is patiently waiting for the resuming of said reading group. I've also been picking my way through The Letters of Tolkien, an enjoyable exercise to say the least. There are of course other books that have not been finished, but my integrity as a reader requires discretion at some point.

I also hope to read some if not all of the following: From Dawn to Decadence by a fellow named Barzuk, a history of western civilization in a more consciously journalistic vein than most histories. Undaunted Courage, a story of the Lewis and Clark expedition and exploration of the northwest is also at the top of my list. And if I have my way, several titles on the War Between the States will find their way to my desk, one somewhat related, The Real Lincoln, I have already been encouraged to read.

In the fiction department, I hope to take in a bit more of the Wodehouse, although truth be told, my wife and I are still plucking our way through Right Ho, Jeeves. But no worries, the summer is fat for the picking. I will overcome, I will conquer, or I will survive at any rate. Walker Percy has long been awaiting my perusal, The Last Gentleman and The Moviegoer are mocking me from my shelf. I also continue work on the second book of the Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser, although it is difficult to construe that as 'reading'. Summer time is also the perfect setting for several Flannery O'Connor short stories. It is my goal to read a good bit of Mr. Billy Collins, a poet who from all heartell deserves my time. I read several bits of him this morning, in fact, from one of his more recent collections.

The Atlas Humanities class works through a three year cycle, and this Fall, as you may have gathered, we will be studying modern history from the Reformation to the present. Probably the toughest part of this class will be condensing the possibilities of study into the actual amount of time that we have. Not only are there innumerable books to read, but battles and philosophies and discoveries seem like a firehose and I'm the teacher who's expected to fill a Dixie cup and share a little with my students. Alas!

Noble Liturgy

Modern Christian men are the recipients of two great evils here at the beginning of the 21st century. We live in a nation that is full of effeminate churches and watered down beer. And the two are not unrelated. A friend has pin pointed the World Wars and the subsequent increase of women in the workplace as the cause of the diluted beers, and while it may have certainly contributed to the problem, the roots are a bit deeper than that. Sentimentalism and sappy piety are our plague. Scrawny pastors with broken, mournful grimaces pouring over their congregants like luke warm syrup Sunday after Sunday are the cause of our plight. When salvation became a teary-eyed, emotional roller coaster, masculinity began its exodus to Sunday football and fanatical lawn care. Obviously these alternatives have their perversions as well, but for the man, they at least have the pretense of being masculine, while Church services unabashedly demanded their men to act like craven women, sharing their feelings and pouring out their hearts, a weekly castration for any conscientious male.
Of course sin has its roots in Adam and apart from Christ is hid deep in the recesses of the human heart. But this malady like every sin finds its genesis in a perversion of worship. This emotionalism and sentimentalism were carried in parasitic fashion on the back of liturgical deformation. Revivalism swept through many churches bringing with it the free for all, spirit-lead-ism that still engorges the Church today. The bold joy of the high liturgies: confession of sin, sung creeds, chanted psalms, prescribed prayers, and Scripture lessons centered around the eucharistic meal were eclipsed by sappy choruses and chaos on the one hand and in supposed reaction: stuffy, lecture halls on the other. But the high liturgies of the Church attack both tendencies which are the same at heart: seeing true religion as a feeling or a thought (internalized in either case) instead of incarnate gratitude. Of course these emotion driven services are not true femininity any more than they are true masculinity. But the nobility of high worship is part of the answer to both deficiencies. May God be please to give us repentant hearts, courageous leaders, and thick, dark beers.

Thursday, June 10, 2004

A Son To Me

Well there's no doubt about it. River is the coolest kid I know. He's not real big on conversation yet. But he lets his hopes and dreams be known. His coordination is still a little flimsy, particularly in the neck and head region. He's kind of dangerous with that thing. But he's trying. He really digs the swing. He can swing for hours. And then, he can swing some more. I've given him several tours of the house, a short geography lesson on the continents and major oceans, and I introduced him to the titles that live on the top of the first book shelf. That leaves thirteen shelves to go before I've covered each one. Like every boy, he's taking to eating and sleeping with a general merriment. He even gets along with Porter, who apart from the occasional slobberfest is quite pleased with the new addition to our home. He's already concerned for the well being of River and whines whenever River is unhappy.

What about the name? Ah yes... a river is one of God's central pictures for showing his strength and might, his joy and peace, and life and salvation. Isaiah 66, Ezekiel 47, and Revelation 22 are good starts. A river is quite literally 'living water'. It is living life. It flows and whirls, sings and dances, and rushes along with wild joy and exuberance. River is our exuberance.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

Devoted

Paul’s explanation of our bodies as temples as related to sexual immorality in 1 Corinthians 6 fits nicely with the Hebrew picture of such immorality in the Old Testament and with sodomy in particular. In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul lists a number of kinds of sinners who are “unrighteous” and will not inherit the Kingdom of God. Among the list are adulterers, effeminate, and sodomites. He goes on to explain that while some of the Corinthians had been these very kinds of people, Christ had died and rose again so that they might be free from those very deeds (v. 14). But Paul goes further and explains that the chief reason for the inconsistency is that their bodies are members of Christ and temples of the Holy Spirit. The word for sodomite in Hebrew is QODESH which literally means ‘holy’ or ‘devoted’. It is the same word used hundreds of times to describe the people of Israel, their tabernacle, and their God, Yahweh. But this word describes the necessarily religious status of homosexuals. Not that there is any human status that is truly ‘unreligious’. But this word’s particular usage makes it all the more pointy, particularly with Paul’s explanation in 1 Corinthians. While we today do not have pagan temples built with wood or stone in our lands any longer, our bodies, as Paul taught in 1 Corinthians are temples. They are necessarily temples filled with the Holy Spirit or temples filled with demons. This is of course not simply a statement about heterosexuals vs. homosexuals. This is a statement about believers and unbelievers, the faithful and the ungodly. Our bodies are holy. We are devoted. And the sodomite, the atheist, the adulterer, the thief, and the liar have devoted their bodies to the service of demons. But we were bought with a price.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

All Ryled Up

I've been reading Ryle's Light from Old Times. It's always enjoyable to read history from a pastor. The book's subtitle is Protestant Facts and Men. And the book is just that. He outlines the history of the English Reformation, the major principles, the major players, and the consequent reign of Bloody Mary which sought to undo its progress. While, Ryle is never bitter, he is unceasingly brutal to the Roman Church, holding it responsible for the judicial murder of those executed during those turbulent years. He, writing in the nineteenth century, can imagine no greater atrocity than for the English church to give any ground back to the Papists.

A couple of brief thoughts:

First, Ryle pin points the center of the English Reformation in the doctrine of the Eucharist. Ryle maintains that heart of the Roman doctrine sought to put Christ (in any way) in the bread and wine (he calls this the doctrine of the real presence), while the reformers, he contends, held that Christ was only present in His people. He calls those in the English church who he believes to be secret papists 'extreme ritualists'. He particularly condemns the 'ritualists' of his day for attempting to undo the very things that the early English reformers died for. Ryle is not willing to go anywhere near this real presence doctrine as he sees it as the heart of ritualism and ultimately the papist church. He goes so far as to condemn those who make a distinction between 'natural' and 'supernatural' presence or carnal vs. spiritual. Christ is only in the Eucharist in so far as Christ is in His people. It should be noted that this is what Ryle says concerning the early Reformers, though based upon some quotations he supplies, I'm not sure it's quite as cut and dried.

Second, nevertheless, I'm stirred by the courage and fortitude exhibited by those men who were burned at the stake for what many now consider trifles. And while I may well differ in some particulars, I am challenged. These faithful men prayed and sang psalms while flames scorched their legs and arms. Some were partially burned, when wind or rain subdued the flames, and they waited patiently for new fires to be ignited. These men stood firm while evil men did their very worst, and they blessed their executioners and forgave their enemies. That noble band of martyrs, who scorned the grave and mocked the flames, did not spill their blood in vain. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church, and we are the direct descendents of the English Reformation, here in America.

Monday, June 07, 2004

River Edmond

Our first descendent was born this last Friday evening, June 4 at 8:22pm. He weighed 8lbs and was 21 3/8in long. Mom and son are doing very well. God has been very kind.

Friday, April 09, 2004

Run

Would that I could run. You know: run. I mean really run. Run everywhere. Air in my face. Sweat on the sleeve. Run into the sun. Run for the hills, run under trees, run in front of cars and behind them and beside them. Run. I would, you know. I would run. I've been practicing. I run from the car to my house. Then I run from the car into the bakery. I don't run because I'm in a hurry. I run because I can. My legs moving, toothpicks in wrappers. But you can't see. I'm running. I like to gasp. I suck air. Some people might say its because I'm out of shape. I say it's because I like air. I love it. I can't get enough. So I run.

And when I'm not running. I'm usually reading. I'm reading the third book of the Faerie Queene. The heroine of the story is Britomart, lady knight of chastity. She's facing off with lesbians and cowards. She's an extremist, pursuing love with militance. I'm reading Ezekiel too. He's shaving his head and burning piles of hair in the middle of the city. He's eating scrolls and laying on his side laying siege to a lego castle. He's cooking dinner over cow dung.

And it's Good Friday, day of our Lord's crucifixion. How extreme. How sharp. How offensive. How daring. But I pretend to be. I imagine the fierceness of true love, the ferocity and wildness of chastity. I picture Ezekiel, that holy freak. And Jesus wears a crown of thorns. Would that I could run. Would that I would really run. Run everywhere. Run with air in my face, aching side, and sucking air. I would run. Really run. And I will. I'm practicing. I run from the car to the house and from the car to work, and I keep running.

Monday, March 08, 2004

Moved

We made it. The move is over, we're back in town, and all is right with the world. There are still a few boxes hither and thither, but for all that we're nearly settled in.

Saturday, February 28, 2004

leithart.com

Check it out.

Saturday, February 21, 2004

A Private Conversation

I've seen the stars every night for the last 9 months. I've watched the hunter sink and rise, and beckon to his comrades in the blackness. I've also learned the moon. I know her phases, guess her path, and miss her when she hides. I also met the fog, his blanket of wet unraveled along my path, a snug companion on many of my drives.

One morning last spring, I was on my way to school before the days of baking bread. It was the hour of the changing of the guard, the ominous nod of night in the direction of the day. I knew the moon was full, but I had not see her pearl face since leaving home and arched my neck and bent my eyes through every hill, hoping she had not yet sunk below the covers of the world. I saw the glow of her face through the trees and suspected her presence right along the edge of the earth. I knew the only chance I had of seeing her was over the first ridge, after which there would not be another clearing for several miles, and even that was doubtful. I sped up the northern face of the ridge, though fog began to mar my course in pockets every fifteen yards or so. Nearing the summit, I plunged into a foamy thickness losing sight of all but a couple of feet in front of each headlight. I was forced to slow down, and I expected the worst: I had entered a fog that I was unlikely to exit until coming down the last hill into Moscow. This was not an uncommon experience. One minute brilliant blue skies, the next buried in cloud. And while I had realized long ago that there was something incredible about driving my car through the clouds, this realization was not as exciting as I was hoping to see the face of the moon. However, seconds later, my car found the world, though I did not know then if it really was the world I had been in only moments before. There below me, stretching into the distance was a world of white, hills and plains enveloped in cloud. It was a shimmering robe and bright with pink weaving throughout. To my right I looked into the full and sorrowful face of the moon, but to the left, the piercing gaze of the sun burned across the plains.

I do not imagine that I will ever be able to forget those few moments as I drove through that enchanted land. It was as though I had come in during a private conversation between a man and his wife. I felt uncomfortable and glad all in an instant. It was then if not soon after that I began to more fully realize the fantasy of Creation. Chesterton and MacDonald were right.

After a refreshing 16 months in Potlatch, we are on our way back into Moscow. It has been a glorious time living in this community. We will miss our neighbors, the quiet streets, and yes, even the drives into town.

Monday, February 16, 2004

Taunting the Enemy

If you own the Cantus Christi and you are in any way musically inclined, I would urge you to look at the chant for Psalm 94. And if you're not musically inclined find someone who is and make them teach it to you. It's really worth it. The text was translated by Jim Jordan, and is an excellent rendition of the Hebrew as would be expected. But the music (which is by someone I don't remember at the moment) fits the text wonderfully. I've only learned 3 or 4 chants so far, but this one easily tops the charts. It is very nearly what I imagine Jordan means when he praises and encourages 'vigorous chanting'. The text and tune are bold and militant, and for a few awful moments the University Inn conference room is transfigured into a battlefield, as we sing our King's praises, taunting the enemy forces.

Sunday, February 15, 2004

Laughing and Loving

Remy posted on love scenes and laughter the other day. As it turns out his Hebrew reflexes are quite good and nearing the level of Jedi Master.

In Hebrew there are a number of kinds of verbs. One such variety is called the Piel. The Piel is usually used to intensify the meaning of a verb. So the regular form of a verb could mean "break apart" and in the Piel it might mean "shatter". Other instances of this actually change the meaning to some extent, usually revealing some hebraic understanding of the world. This is the case with the verb LAMAD which means "he learned". In the Piel, the verb becomes "he taught". A teacher then, would be the intense learner. The one who learns to the utmost, teaches by defalt.

But to the point. In Genesis 26:8, Abimelek has been entertaining Isaac, Rebeccah, and the whole patriarchal kit-n-kiboodle. Of course, being the godly patriarch that he is, Isaac and his wife lie to the pagan king telling him they are just brother and sister in order to protect themselves and set themselves up to plunder the Philistines. At any rate, Abimelek looks out his window one day and sees Isaac making melody to his wife. 'Melody' is of course the Middle English term for making love, having sex. Well the verb used to describe the action that Isaac is performing is the verb TSAKHAQ, which usually means "he laughed". In fact that's where Isaac's name came from (Isaac=YITSKHAQ). However, in this case it is the Piel Participle translated "sporting" in the KJV, "fondling", and "caressing" elsewhere. The context should guide the translation in any case. But the range of meaning is anything from caressing to making melody. Thus laughter in its most intense form is in fact in bed with one's wife.

And so I leave you with a blessing on this Lord's Day, the Sixth Sunday of Epiphany: May our Triune God manifest his playfulness in your marriage bed as it is filled with much laughter.

Saturday, February 14, 2004

The Pirates of DC

I just read Wilson's new children's book Blackthorn Winter published by Veritas Press. It's a fun read and served, in its own small way, to remind me of the current tyranny of the American government. The book isn't about our government; it's about pirates and a courageous boy's adventure with them. But it doesn't take but a couple of well worded sentences, especially in tax season, to remind the most submissive among us that someone not too long ago decided that pirates would do a lot better if they dressed well, showered and shaved, and traded their pointy pieces of steel for a pile of papers and a bureaucrat's smile.

Living Water

Leviticus 14 records the ritual for cleansing a leper and the cleansing of a house with leprosy. A couple observations after translating the passage this week particularly connected to the term "running water" or MAYEEM KHAYEEM, which literally means "living water".

First, the obvious connection to John 4, Jesus' conversation with the Samaritan woman. Jesus' claim to be able to give "living water" is still enigmatic, but at least on the surface it seems that the literal meaning of his claim would be that he could make Jacob's well work as a fountain. There is of course a mine of meaning in this whole area, but perhaps this offers at least one direction to head in. At least one point may be that the role of Israel is changing from that of a well (refreshment which must be sought out by the nations) to a spring or river (refreshment which seeks the nations). The symbolism is prevalent in the Old Testament particularly in the ministry of the patriarchs. Another example would be Solomon's reign which was that of a glorious well, where the nations sought wisdom and came to enjoy his glory. But the new Well of Jacob, the new Israel is a spring, a geyser that erupts and pours out into the world, an Eden transfigured.

Secondly, the ritual for cleansing a house with leprosy has been connected with Jesus' cleansing of the Temple. I haven't read Jordan on this, but I'm told that he harmonizes the gospel accounts (synoptics vs. John) with at least some reference to this ritual in Leviticus 14. The priest in the ritual, must visit the house that is unclean (or suspected to be) twice. The house is emptied on the first visit, and if upon the second visit (seven days later) the plague has spread, the house is to be broken down. I am told that Jordan posits the difference in accounts due to two cleansings by Christ. The first was an inspection, where the furniture was over turned and the house was declared unclean. The second visit, at the end of his ministry (the end of his week) was to reevaluate the house. The house was found infected again, and the pronouncement was again made concerning its uncleanness. At at this point he declares that he will destroy the house and rebuild it again in three days. This was of course the duty of the priest, to see to it that the infected house was torn down and a new one was erected in its place.

The cleansing of a house (after it had been rebuilt) required two birds: one was killed in a vessel with "living water". The living bird is dipped in the blood of the first bird and in the "living water" and finally released in order to make atonement for the house. The house is also sprinkled seven times with the blood and "living water." The actual sprinkling is done with hyssop, scarlet, and cedar wood of course.

I'm not sure what all that means, but there's obviously a death and resurrection/baptism motif going on. The House of Israel is cleansed by the death of Christ as blood and water flowed from his side. And his resurrection is his own "release" making atonement for the house. Again, atonement effects an exodus out of the city: the bird in Lev. 14, Jesus' "living water" in John 4, the early Christians in Acts, and to the ends of the earth.

Jacob's well has become a spring, and the house of Israel is cleansed.

Friday, February 06, 2004

Belly Buttons

This is of course the weekend of our expectations. The famous and infamous History Conference is finally upon us. The press have shown up to do their part, and the opposition has promised exactly that.

Early reports signal much smoke and little if any fire. In fact the only fire I've seen in the last couple of days was in the bakery this morning when a couple of pizza boxes began the exciting process of combustion. But alas the only foul play seems to have been the people who closed who accidentally put the boxes near the oven. Oh-well. Apparently there were four or five protesters last night doing their protesting thing. This morning there was one, solitary protest being accomplished by one fellow who was holding a sign that said, "History stopped when Wilson touched it." I know that really struck me as I'm sure it is you at this very moment.

Alas. The irony only grows and exponentially increases. We are maligned in the press, our businesses are boycotted, spit upon, and vandalized. We are refused service, declined business opportunities, and our tires are slashed (repeatedly). We are lied about, slandered, and libelled (with names I've never heard in the Bible). And when the lady is asked what the deal is, she says, "We know it's not about slavery, we just don't like your attitude." Obviously we have a bad attitude. They have formed coalitions and associations; they have posted signs and posters and had secret deliberations about how to get rid of us. While we went in to the university to pay an extra fee for security, the university was in the next room planning the protest. Today, the whole lot of them was to gather at five o'clock for their "we really mean it this time, not in our town" march from downtown Friendship Square to the university SUB where the conference is being held. New St. Andrews students will be on hand to give out cookies and hot coffee to the protestors.

'Not in our Town' is their motto, and 'We're too great for Hate' stands as their damning banner of tolerance, freedom, and human rights. And the incoherence of their arguments, "You have a political agenda", "What's your standard is a trick question", "We don't like your attitude" and the rest prove the very fact they so wish they could deny. They are their own reductio ad absurdum.

But we have not resisted to the point of shedding of blood. And our joy is multiplied in the presence of our enemies. Our tables are laden with blessing and gladness. We will dance, we will laugh, and though they should cry "conspiracy! conspiracy!" we will only build snow men with charcoal eyes, carrot noses, and corncob pipes; and if the glee is right, we'll spend a few extra minutes putting buttons on their bellies. And I'll name mine Bill, and you'll name yours Selena.

Monday, February 02, 2004

world eye

there’s a world in my eye
an island spinning round
you and i can’t see the lie
it’s to the mind tight bound.
Round the retina it revolves
and manufactures history
conjures and resolves
interprets imagistic mystery.
this globe in fact pours out
its life and hue and glimmer
on every point about
and cooks it to a simmer.
Then with vegetarian lite
it fills the mental frame
reorders chaos right,
awakens truth the same.
and i upon my throne
and you upon your dais
long we reign alone
and ever truth our bias.

and if you’ve got an ill
politics, culture, art
this rock will be the pill
to cure your every smart.
just lodge it in your eye
it’s christian never fear
there’s no need to die
the truth is ever dear.
there’s no need for Sacraments
hands and knees be gone
all the rest are condiments
with this eye-log on.
watch for the others
no one is without
we’re all eye-mind brothers
thinking leaves no doubt.
we play with material raw
but the forms are in our head
ideas are the law
of the living and the dead.

for as you think it so
so it is as you think
but i’ll not wear the window
nor from this well take drink.
i walk through a world
alive with life throughout
a splendid word unfurled
where even mountains shout.
Creation spurns the world eye
the Son of Mary dies
hands were meant to lift high
Creation groans and cries.
my knees i’ll teach to rule
as bent they search the ground
my hands will go to school
lifted they are crowned.
And tongue and eye and mind
all humbled to the King
minds to taste, tongues to see
and eyes to joyful sing.

Suspirium

I really dig this term: "suspirium". Suspirium is the rhythm and momentum of the language we speak and write about God that passes directly into language spoken and written to God.

Another bit of Barth.

Mo' Barth

A few thoughts triggered by Barth's 1.1 of Church Dogmatics:

1. While Barth isn't married to the idea, he is willing and gives slight blessing to allowing theology (ie. dogmatics) to be labeled a "science". He is sufficiently made ill by the various dangers associated with so doing. He will not afford any other realm of study the bar to which theology must be measured. The protestant liberals of Barth's day, no less than ours, were interested in having the Church and theologians in particular justify themselves before the court of human reason, materialistic science, and logic. Barth will not bow to the gods of the Englightenment Pantheon. Theology must be judged upon its own principles. The Church must study, critique, and reform itself from within.

2. That said, retaining the term "science" for all its baggage could be an insightful tool working to accomplish the very opposite of what we fear. That is, while we do not want the language of the Church (ie. theology) scrutinized by extra-ecclesiological standards, we do want every other sphere held up to the scrutiny of the Church. This is not exhaustive of course, but in general, the methodology of theology should inform the methodology of every other science.

Kah Mints

I don't know what the deal is with the comments. Apparently mine fell into a crevice from whence they are unlikely to return. If there are any other free comment systems out there let me know... I'm not allowed to spend money on this habit.

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

In Utero Toe Grab

Well, there's no doubt about it. My wife is having a baby. No, it's true. I saw pictures on Monday. This is probably a "first baby" phenomenon, but the reality of having a child is really slow in setting in, at least for me as the father. I knew that my wife was acting funny. I knew that the doctor was saying things regarding "the baby". But I didn't really know anything. But now I know. I saw that head, a couple of arms and legs, and I saw the baby move. The baby yawned or something while we were looking at it. Then it reached out and grabbed one of its feet. That's my kid doing the in utero toe grab.

Friday, January 23, 2004

Frame Jordan

Frame's Evangelical Reunion has been a good read. Published in 1991, I assume it was a bit more of a splash then than it is for me now. It's great to read someone of his caliber doing a demolition on one of the most sacred cows in the modern church. Denominations really are on their way out. People are tired of bureaucracy and faceless committees. The utilitarian gods are sad; we will not burn incense in their temples any more. The humanistic gods are irate; we don't need them to stroke our egos with international clubs full of people who agree with us.

And the other thing is Jordan's Sociology of the Church. Jordan accomplishes Frame's thesis and then for kicks writes an ecclesiology from Genesis 2. Didn't you see that coming? The Church is at the center of the universe. The world is structured such that the church cannot but be at the center. It is not whether the nations will inherit our accomplishments, it's rather: what will those accomplishments be? When churches are full of greed, the world is full of greed. When churches hire clowns to give pep talks, the world is full of clowns giving pep talks. This is because the Church is the garden transfigured on the mountain that is filling the earth. The rivers still flow out of the church and flood the world whether we know it or not. Litter costs a lot more than the sign says.

But the Church is geographical. That is the second greatest commandment.

And speaking of pep talks, it appears my comments are on hiatus, so to speak. So just to tide you over, nod your head up and down if you agree with me and shake it from side to side if you disagree. These will be our secret signs. That's all.

Sunday, January 18, 2004

In search of Hezekiah

What kind of world do we live in? This is the question surrounding the recent reformed controversies. We can and we should discuss baptism and the covenant. We can and we should pursue doctrines of the atonement, predestination, and election. It is necessary to study the doctrine of the Church, its history, and our place within the broader catholic Church. All these things are significant in these discussions and debates, and it is surely possible that some will come to different opinions through the course of their study and discussion. However, these questions are really only surface concerns, which is why so much (mis)understanding is determined by semantics, though not all of course.

The real question that is under debate has to do with the nature of the universe. It asks what kind of world do we live in? Do we live in world where animals could talk? Is it possible for water to sometimes hold the weight of man, allowing him to walk atop it? And with nothing more than a knotted staff, would a roaring sea part its waves to reveal dry ground? And if by entertaining guests, would you come to find yourself in the presence of an angel? Or would an angel and his company come down from the galaxies above and sing to a gang of white trash motorcyclists? Do we live in a world where unicorns have danced, satyrs walked, and where dragons have been fought and killed? Can water fall out of the sky? Can a panoply of colors bend in the heavens? Can old and barren women become mothers? Or could a Virgin be with child?

Logic is a bronze serpent that has become our Nahushtan. Perhaps it has done us some good in the past, but it is now leading many astray. Tear it down, tear it down, Cal Beisner. The world is not a categorical statement, but resurrection is a fallacy. What kind of world do we live in? We live in world where stars sing, lions roar, and crabs walk sideways. Let God be true and every man a liar; we live in a faerie land, where water can be turned to wine and sinners turned into saints.

Wednesday, January 14, 2004

Isaiah Notes

The following from:
The Literary Message of Isaiah
By Avraham Gileadi (P. 37-38)
Copyright 1994

I. Ruin and Rebirth—chapters 1-5; 34-35
II. Rebellion and Compliance—chapters 6-8; 36-40
III. Punishment and Deliverance—chapters 9-12; 41:1-46:13b
IV. Humiliation and Exaltation—chapters 13-23; 46:13c-47:15
V. Suffering and Salvation—chapters 24-27; 48-54
VI. Disloyalty and Loyalty—chapters 28-31; 55-59
VII. Disinheritance and Inheritance—chapters 32-33; 60-66

“... these categories of themes are arranged chiastically. The first pair of themes (ruin and Rebirth) parallels the seventh pair (Disinheritance and Inheritance); the second pair of themes (Rebellion and Compliance) parallels the sixth pair (Disloyalty and Loyalty); and the third pair of themes (punishment and Deliverance) parallels the fifth pair (Suffering and Salvation). The fourth pair of themes (Humiliation and Exaltation) represents the centerpiece, and as such establishes the key concept...”

Thursday, January 08, 2004

Swift Shot

Feeling rather pleased with the fact that I only made one resolution, kept it, and have since enjoyed the pleasure of a number of fine meals, several chocolates, and 18 inches of snow in my backyard, I've decided to share the following aphorisms, authored by my friend, Jonathan Swift.

The latter part of a wise man's life is taken up in curing the follies, prejudices, and false opinions he had contracted in the former.

When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this infallible sign: that the dunces are all in confederacy against him.

The Stoical scheme of supplying our wants by lopping off our desires is like cutting off our feet when we want shoes.

Ambition often puts men upon doing the meanest offices; so climbing is performed in the same posture as creeping.

Ill company is like a dog, who fouls those most whom he loves best.

Saturday, December 27, 2003

Resolution #1

I know it's still a few days off from New Years, but I figure a headstart isn't a bad idea. Momentum helps with being resolved. Which is to say that I've decided to revamp this here blog.

Monday, December 22, 2003

Barth: The bottom line

Below I've posted a number of quotes from Dogmatics in Outline by Karl Barth that I wanted to review. The most influential shot I've gotten from Mr. Barth has definitely to do with the identity Barth makes with omnipotence and grace. He says, "The grace of God and the omnipotence of God are identical. We must never understand the one without the other." This places the center of the universe in the person of Christ. His lordship means that the One whom God has chosen is a man who stands for Himself and at the same time is a man who stands for all. And it is for this reason that Barth says we must come to "read the New Testament from the standpoint of this 'for us'." All of God's action from Creation to redemption to consummation are His mighty acts on our behalf; they are his powerful workings for us. Thus, when it comes to man's debt of sin, it is not that God delivers us from His wrath in spite of His righteousness, rather it is because of God's righteousness that He steps in for us. "Righteousness in the Old Testament sense is not the righteousness of the judge who makes the debtor pay, but the action of a judge who in the accused recognises the wretch whom he wishes to help by putting him to rights. That is what rightesouness means. Righteousness means setting right. And that is what God does... God's mercy and God's righteousness are not at variance with each other." And in another chapter he says, "In the Biblical world of thought the judge is not primarily the one who rewards some and punishes the others; he is the man who creates order and restores what has been destoyed."

We often loose sight of the fierceness of God's love in all of our theological terminology. And we get small minded and tidy and cranky. Yes, God is holy, yes God is righteous, and yes, God is just. And it is for those very reasons that He will seek us out, His people. He will overtake us with His kindness, and blow our minds with His brilliance. He is not an unbiased Judge. He is biased, in our favor. And He gives Himself for us.

Barth: Miscellaneous

"The Church is not 'of the opinion', it does not have 'views', convictions, enthusiasms. It believes and confesses, that is it speaks and acts on the basis of the message based on God Himself in Christ."

"God thinks it not robbery to be divine, that is, He does not hold on to the booty like a robber, but God parts with Himself. Such is the glory of His Godhead, that He can be 'selfless', that He can actually forgive Himself something... It is is the depth of the Godhead, the greatness of His glory which is revealed in the very fact that it can also completely hide itself in its sheer opposite, in the profoundest rejection and the greatest misery of the creature... Reconciliation means God taking man's place."

"What then is the meaning of man's life? It means hurrying to the grave. Man is hurrying to meet his past. This past, in which there is no more furture, will be the final thing..."

"The atheist is not aware of what Godlessness is. Godlessness is existence in hell... God's judgment is righteeous--that is, it gives man what he wanted."

"Where men may receive and possess the Holy Spirit, it is of course a human experience and a human act. It is also a matter of the understanding and of the will and, I might indeed say, of the imagination. This too belongs to being a Christian. The whole man, right into the inmost regions of the so-called 'unconscious', is taken in claim. God's relation to man includes the whole of him."

"It [the Church] cannot be formed by men's hands; that is why the zealous, swift founding of Churches, such as took place in America and also sometimes in Holland, is doubtful business. Calvin liked to apply to the Church a military conception, that of la compagnie des fideles. A company usually comes together on the basis of a command and not on that of a free agreement."

Barth: Freedom and Evil

"And creaturely freedom means, finally that there is a contigency of what is, a specific existence of the creature; and this specific existence, at any rate of the human creature, means freedom to decide, ability to act one way or another. But his freedom can only be the freedom appropriate to the creature, which possesses its reality not of itself, and which has its nature in time and space... it is limited by the existence of its fellow creatures, and on the other hand by the sovereignty of God. For if we are free, it is only because our Creator is the infinitely free. All human freedom is but an imperfect mirroring of the divine freedom."

"The creature is threatened by the possibliity of nothingness and of destruction, which is excluded by God--and only by God... I am speaking here now of this, in order to make it clear that this whole realm that we term evil--death, sin, the Devil and hell is not God's creation, but rather what was excluded by God's creation, that to which God has said 'No'... What is not good God did not make; it has no creaturely existence. But if being is to be ascribed to it at all, and we would rather not say that is is non-existent, then it is only the power of the being which arises out of the weight of the divine 'No'."

Barth: Time and Space

"Everything outside God is held constant by God over nothingness. Creaturely nature means existence in time and space, existence with a beginning and an end, existence that becomes, in order to pass away again. Once it was not, and once it will no longer be. And it is not one but many. As there is a once and a now, there is also a here and a there. The world, in this process, is called time, and, in this separateness, space. But God is eternal. That does not meant that there is no time in Him, but it is a different time from ours; for fundamentally we never have presence, and for us spatiality means apartness."

[On Jesus coming as the judge]
"First let me say something about the Christian concept of time. We cannot but realise that here a quite strange light falls upon what in the genuine and proper sense is called real time--time in the light of God's time, eternity. Jesus Christ's having come, all those past tenses, would answer to what we term the past. But how inappropriate it would be to say of that event that it was past. What Jesus suffered and did is certainly not past; it is rather the old that is past, the world of man, the world of disobedience and disorder, the world of misery, sin, and death. Sin has been cancelled, death has been vanquished. Sin and death did exist, and the whole of world history, including that which ran its course post Christum, right down to our day, existed. All that is past in Christ; we can only think back on all that.

But Jesus Christ sitteth beside the Father, as He who has suffered and has risen from the dead. That is the present. Since He is present as God is present, it already admits of being said that He shall come again as the person he once was. He who is today just as He was yesterday, will also be the same tomorrow--Jesus Christ yesterday and today and the same to eternity. Since Jesus Christ exists as the person He was, obviously He is the beginning of a new different time from that which we know, a time in which there is no fading away, but real time which has a yesterday, a today and a tomorrow. But Jesus Christ's yesterday is also His today and His tomorrow. It is not timelessness, not empty eternity that comes in place of His time. His time is not at an end; it continues in the movement from yesterday to today, and into tomorrow. It has not the frightful fleetingness of our present. When Jesus Christ sitteth at the right hand of the Father, this existence of His with God, His existence as the possessor and representative of the divine grace and power towards us men, has nothing to with what we are foolishly wont to conceive as eternity--namely, an existence without time. If this existence of Jesus Christ at the right hand of God is real existence and as such the measure of all existence, then it is also existence in time, although in another time than the one we know. If the lordship and rule of Jesus Christ at the Father's right hand is the meaning of what we see as the existence of our world history and our life-history, then this existence of Jesus Christ is not a timeless existence, and eternity is not a timeless eternity. Death is timeless, nothingness is timeless. So we men are timeless when we are without God and without Christ. Then we have no time. But this timelessness He has ovecome. Chrst has time, the fullness of time. He sitteth at the right hand of God as he who has come, who has acted and suffered and triumphed in death. His session at God's right hand is not just the extract of this history; it is the eternal within this history."

Monday, December 15, 2003

Woopsidaisy

I'm fairly sure there were a few comments in the previous posts. Apparently the 'Shout Out' gods have deemed them unworthy of consumption. Many apologies.

But speaking of consumption, if you have not already made Dr. Leithart's blog the object of your daily blog consumption, then you are yet to breathe. Dr. Leithart is the interim pastor of Trinity Reformed Church which is my church, a recent church plant of Christ Church in Moscow. In addition, it should be added that Dr. Leithart wears cardigan sweaters. Word.

Kerr shoots, he scores

Kerr finally got to the goods in the last chapter of Theology after Wittgenstein. And not that the other stuff wasn't worth it. I was just worried he wasn't going to go in for the kill, but he does. Oh, he does.

Perhaps the most striking observation that Kerr makes is that a view of the self that emphasizes the body and community as far more fundamental than some sort of hidden, inner 'I' is one that can defend life more properly, particularly in terms of the imago Dei. Traditionally, the church fathers and reformers alike (to my knowledge) have placed the most emphasis on the image of God as being mental, rational, or logical, though some have gone so far as to say 'creative' albeit, creative in an 'inner energy' sort of way. But if life and the imago Dei in particular are rather seen in more physical terms I.e. the body and community, then an unborn child is a living human being by virtue of these things. The Cartesian ego has been so concerned with backing external reality with mental sensation, that mental sensation has become the standard of relevance. And as Kerr points out, paradoxically, the more animalistic, instinctual, habitual we view human life (as Wittgenstein would assert) the easier it becomes to defend life.

Based on these observations, there are of course other implications particularly for worship and liturgy. The modern fear of repetition or 'mindless' chattering of prayers and responses is completely unfounded. Meaning is not found in our heads. It is found in the world that God made. It is found in our actions and words and interactions with the world and other people. And it is not as though repetition and form prayers can be avoided, it's just a matter of how much thought is going into them, likewise bodily actions and movements. Whether we go to a straight laced old school Presbyterian church or a free-swinging Baptist church, our bodies are intimately involved and as Kerr (via Wittgenstein) would assert those movements, words, interactions are highly influential in creating and molding the people that we are. It's not whether; it's which and what.

Thursday, December 11, 2003

Advent Aroma

The season of Advent is the dinner guest who consistently (unexpectedly) arrives ten minutes early. There we are still licking the turkey off our fingers and finishing the Thanksgiving stuffing when the first Sunday of Advent is upon us unrelenting. I suppose this is a uniquely American dilemma. But alas here I am, as American as they come, and the third Sunday of Advent is on its way to the door.

I'm still trying to get the Advent "feel" down. Advent is not like Epiphany, Lent, Easter, or Trinity seasons which seem to have decided personalities. I know what Advent leads to, I know that all the lights and gifts mean something. But I feel almost joy, a bit of sorrow, nearly hope. Expectation is a word often used to describe Advent. It's the Old Testament in a month, like Greek in a week. It's an explosion in slow motion climaxing with a fury of wrapping paper on Christmas morning. My dog, Porter, doesn't even know how to feel about this whole tree business. Occasionally he's sympathetic lying near it, gnawing at his favorite cow femur. But other days he's outright antagonistic lunging into the Douglas Fir and coming away with a mouthful of needles and ornaments. I have to tell him 'no', but I understand his confusion.

Historically speaking, I understand that our season of Advent is the result of the collision of celebrations in northern and southern Europe. It was in Gaul where the season began as early as the beginning of November (St. Martins on the 11th usually) with a decidedly penitential character. It was a preparatory season, akin to our modern Lent, but it went under the title Quadragesima Sancti Martini which means something like "after this, we get to drink martinis". In the south, however, the mood was quite festive and was limited to the four weeks prior to the Nativity. Apparently, the Gallic Church began its celebrations as early as the Third century, while the Roman Church didn't have an organized tradition until the sixth century. At any rate, by the eighth century the differences in celebration were enough to cause a bit of tension, such that a compromise was struck over the course of the next few centuries, and the four week calendar was adopted from the Roman celebration along with the Roman liturgy, but from the Gallic Church a more penitential observance was added.

This, I would suggest, justifies my inability to come down on the Advent Aroma, the right feel so to speak. Historically, it simply is a time of deep expectation, almost joy, near hope, not quite sorrow. Related to this is also the fact that husbands have never wanted to have more than a full month dedicated to shopping and Christmas music.

So in the spirit of the Advent Season, a season of compromise and colliding ideals, we're seeking to celebrate with those very things in mind. My wife comes from a family that put the tree up and turned the lights on as soon as the last bite of Thanksgiving dinner is off the plate. I come from a family that put the tree up and maybe hung lights on Christmas Eve. We probably did it on Christmas day a few times but I don't remember; I'm scarred and I'm repressing childhood memories. But the short of it is that we're trying to celebrate gradually. We put the tree up for the first Sunday of Advent, but we're adding decorations as we go along. Lights will go up this week, gifts come out on the last Sunday. It adds a little drama to our lives and really makes us long for when we can put the next bits up, but nevertheless something wild and amazing is certainly in the works. I'm enjoying it, but by far the most enthusiastic supporter is the wee Sumpter. I can tell by the way my wife eats.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

John-Revelation Project

For anybody interested in St. John's Revelation or eschatology in general, I would highly recommend the John-Revelation Project. I've only read a little, but the premises upon which the project is based seem quite sound, and its thesis offers an intriguing and exegetically defensible counter to various other attempts at understanding John's apocalyptic literature. The central attempt has been to shed light on the Revelation of St. John through a study of its literary connections with the Gospel of St. John.

One bit that was of particular interest was a foot note directed at recent attempts to responsibly study the book of Revelation, postmillenialists in particular:

"There have been several valiant attempts by postmillennialists to exposit Revelation. But postmillennialists have largely approached the book with a literary literalism similar to the hermeneutic of the premillennialists, having failed to appreciate the ironic character of the biblical understanding of victory (cf. Paul's claim that "we were considered as sheep to be slaughtered. But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us," Rom 8:36-37). This hermeneutical oversight is caused, as we shall argue, by the loss of a classical understanding of the possibilities of irony, the heart of the comedic imagination."

I'm intrigued by this critique. It is a challenge, in my mind, much needed. It is a challenge for a theological aesthetic, for seeing and understanding "the comedic imagination" of God, of which theology is always concerned, but to which theologians are not often quick to admit.

Monday, December 08, 2003

It Makes Us To Dance

With the jihad against Christ Church, Trinity Reformed, New St. Andrews, Bucers, Zume, et cetera showing no signs of abating, it is important to point out that we have been deemed worthy of the attacks. And with the tomatoes coming from every direction, it's probably a good indicator that we're right where we should be. As God boasted of Job to Satan and before the Sons of God, and gave a spirit of joy to Peter and the other disciples who were "counted worthy", so we here in Moscow must rejoice.

We have been counted worthy of slander for the sake of the gospel. What we need now is more celebration, more dancing, more laughter, and more peace. Do your worst; the Triune God deems us worthy.

"Have you considered My servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, one who fears God and shuns evil?" (Job 1:8)

"So they departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for His name." (Acts. 5:41)

Zume

The bakery has the makings of a website. You can at least see a picture of the dining area. I only go in there when I want to see the Christmas lights. Downtown Moscow is beautiful around this time of the year.

Saturday, December 06, 2003

Global Warming

Imagining for a moment that what they say is true, I'm not so sure it's all that bad of a deal. From all we can tell, the world before the flood was a gigantic tropical rain forest, with moderate to warm temperatures. This climate apparently explains something of the prevelant giantism of the day. Men were large and lived long lives. There appears, if the fossil record is to be believed, to have been any number of supersized animals, both sea monsters, dinosaurs, mammoths, dragons, and just all around really big insects, lizards, birds, and plants. There is no doubt that the flood changed the climate of the world drastically. But what if we're on our way back? If a world wide flood can turn a rain forest into desert, so could YHWH turn our desert into the lush world it once was.

And in fact, that is what He has promised to do. Typologically speaking, rising water means judgment and salvation, as in the case of the flood, the exodus, the river flowing out of Ezekiel's temple, and baptism to which each of those historic/prophetic examples point. But since the rainbow, we fear no flood. God's judgment is our salvation. We have no cause for fear in any case, but the prospects of a warmer world may be just what we want. Perhaps the water levels will rise a bit, perhaps we had all better get used to warmth and humidity. Perhaps there is a hole in the ozone, and maybe God put it there. And maybe it was caused by the Incarnation; it's the scar caused by God breaking in to our freezing, sin filled world.

"Until the Spirit is poured upon us from on high, And the wilderness becomes a fruitful field, And the fruitful field is counted as a forest. Then justice will dwell in the wilderness, And righteousness remain in the fruitful field." (Is. 32:15-16)

Wednesday, November 26, 2003

The Problem of Us

It has been asked, "How could there be a god when there's evil in the world?" "How could there be a god when there's pain and suffering?" As we have pointed out numerous times, these questions are incoherent. The questions, though in the guise of reason and concern, are empty and worthless because they appeal to the standard which they question, a god is being served, so the question deserves no answer.

However in a similar vein, though hopefully with less deceit, Barth turns the question around. How could a good and perfect God, who has no need of anyone or anything, create us? How could eternal Joy and Love be moved to make something outside Himself? "This is the riddle of creation." Why would perfect satisfaction be moved to make something other? How and why would this be possible? If there's any dilemma, it's this one. It's the Problem of Us. How could there be Us when there's a good and perfect God?

Monday, November 24, 2003

World Eye

I have doubts. I get vibes, I get Kantian vibes from the Christian Worldview machine. I realize that most folks simply mean that Christians need to think Christianly. And that's all well and good.

But thought does not create reality. Obviously how a man thinks influences who he is and the manner in which he is in the world, and yes, ideas do have consequences. But ideas are not the sole cause of events in the world, like many (well meaning) Christians claim. Actions are just as determinative as thought if not more so. How we pray and sing and dance and eat are just as important as how we think. We are not required to simply love God with all of our minds, but also with all of our heart, soul, and strength. In short, the history of the world isn't the result of ideas but the result of all of Creation and it's response to its Creator.

I believe in

Barth pointed out that the preposition "in" in the Apostle's Creed does not merely designate the content of our belief or the direction in which we believe (ie. the purpose or object of belief). Rather, the "in" must also include the ground from which we believe. As Christians we have been brought into the fellowship of Father, Son, and Spirit. It is from that status and location that we are even able to begin to say "I believe..." Our faith is not only "in" God in the sense that He is the object of our faith, it is also "in" God in the sense that it is the origin of our faith. The Church confesses its faith from within the Triune communion of God. "In Him we live and move and have our being" and "In Him all things consist".

One implication is simply God's dedication to us. He brings us into his fellowship, into his communion, into his being, and from that place we are taught the words, "I believe..." Like parents bringing a child home from the hospital, we are brought home even before we know the words. We are taught faith from the shadow of his wings.

Sunday, November 23, 2003

Rook Beports

You can't trust the titles I have on that side panel thingy. I read those a while ago. I'm now reading Dogmatics in Outline by Karl Barth, A Primer on Postmodernism by Stanely Grenz, almost done with Theology after Wittgenstein by Fergus Kerr, and I'm teaching and reading L'morte D'arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory. I started Tocqueville's Democracy in America recently, but I suspect it will remain marked on page 50 until Christmas. I also just received The Catholicity of the Reformation ed. by Braaten and Jenson.

A few quick thoughts on the aforementioned titles: Barth. So far I haven't found anything scary, extreme, or really all that controversial. I read a few online reports that range anywhere from "Barth is the greatest theologian since Calvin" to "Barth is a socialist, word twisting, self-deceived, maniacle adulterer". All I know is that Barth is referenced everywhere. Every theologian that has the least bit of relevance has to cite Barth, either in disgust or praise. And of those, so far I'd have to side with the latter. I suspect that Barth was an incredibly honest man. Honest people tell the truth, meaning that they don't make pronouncements about matters which they don't know. And when they do make pronouncements they are usually more general or can be taken in a number of different directions. This scares some people and excites others. Hence the enemy/hero write ups. I like Barth's emphasis on freedom. Freedom is essential to the personality and community of God, and therefore freedom is a significant part in redemption. He argues that faith is freedom, insofaras it is our seeking to live in the life and communion of God.

Kerr on Wittgenstein. What is meant by the pronoun "I"? Wittgenstein says that the pronoun refers to our body. The "I", the "ego", or whathaveyou is the body which thinks, speaks, touches, tastes, breathes, etc. There is no reason to go beyond this. We are living bodies. And this assessment resonates, demands, and pleads with greater furvor for the resurrection of the dead. This insistence on the body as being fundamentally 'who' we are is refreshing, as Kerr points out, particularly as it applies to fellowship and community. The Cartesian Ego places barriers between people and ultimately the Incarnation is not "God with us", it's something like "God a little closer". For Descartes (and his legacy), God may have landed on the earth but he was wearing an astonaut suit like the rest of us. We have not really connected.

Last for tonight: Mallory. Having never read this before, I really don't know much about these tales, but I've been amused, shocked, and informed in a variety of ways in the last week since beginning the read. First the shocked bit. The utter ignobility of Arthur, Uther, Merlin, and everyone else is more than I was prepared for. Maybe that's a little overstated, but the adultery, fornication, murder, etc. makes The Death of Arthur a veritible medieval soap opera. Although, after reading a short bio of Mallory, it all became a bit more clear. This fellow was a regular rouge. He was imprisoned on a number of occasions, escaped twice (once swimming a moat). He was wanted for burglary, assalting an abbott, and seducing a nobleman's wife. He fought on the side of Edward VI in one battle and subsequentally switched sides. His waivering earned him another bit of jail time toward the end of his life. He wrote/compiled these Arthurian tales in the last couple of years of his life, and he died shortly before they were published in 1485. The amusing bit is that this swashbuckling life in Mallory and as displayed by the characters of his tales is punctuated with incredibly devout Christian celebration. The knights regularly attend mass, say prayers, celebrate Christian feasts, proclaim their status as Christians, etc. And this leads to the informative bit, I suspect that this is a very good (albeit simplistic) portrayal of life in the Church prior to the Reformation. Obviously not everyone was as wild (or daring?), but the seemingly earnest marriage of well-meaing devotion and utter ignorance and consequent sinfulness seems to fit the bill... I don't know, just a thought.

Monday, November 10, 2003

Bread to Light

I wake up: It's dark.

I drive in the dark.

There are no lights on inside. The bakery smells like dough. And I take my gloves off and toss them on the table by the door. I usually make a round of the kitchen just to see what's gone on in the last 20 hours of operation. It's dark outside. It's always dark out there. It's always dark until right before the bread is ready. I bake bread for the sun to rise.

There's a heap of croissant dough in a trash can: it was mixed wrong. Three Chocolatines are abandoned on the cooling rack, they were never dipped after bake out. That's why it's dark. The sun knows there's no bread. I pass on to the refrigerator door. Luther posted theses on a church door, we post our worlds on a the cold metal of a cooler. "Please, please, please don't leave the cakes on the counter" pleads one note. Another simply says: "Josh Rocks". The well known scrawl of another gives specifications for a particular order and adds "if you don't get this note, let me know." I open the door. It's dark in there too.

I wander down to the dish pit. It's seen better days. I firmly believe in the existence of only one dishwasher. He is the only one I've ever seen actually washing dishes. There are rumours of others. I say bosh. I arrive at 4am. I arrive when it's dark. I arrive before the bread. If there are such things as "other dishwashers" they most certainly do not wash dishes. They play with dishes. I look at the scene, and I imagine a score of fifteen year old boys with toothy grins flinging plastic containers and mixing bowls with glee. Tomato sauce coats one wall and just above me there is a small stack of dishes acting as though they had been washed and left to dry. I don't even have to look a second time. It's a trap. The mythical "dish players" only wash dishes that can be stacked and arranged in such a way as to create lethal weapons.

The ovens are dark. They are empty and cold. I turn them on. There are four. I don't always turn them on. About half of the time I forget. Then the bread has to wait for the ovens. Then the sun waits for the ovens and the bread. But I'll make the bread.

Thursday, November 06, 2003

Got One In The Oven

In God's kindness, it appears that I'm to be a father in the not so distant future. I've seen the first picture of my offspring, and I'm already thoroughly impressed. The baby, as of a few weeks ago had an energetic heart beat, and it's heart was doing its thing outside its body. Go figure. Jenny is due at the beginning of June, which is just as school is letting out. The other Atlas teacher, Tim Griffith, is also working on becoming a father around the same time. So we're in for some exciting days at the end of the year. Do keep us in you prayers, particularly Jenny and the baby. She's actually doing quite well, just tired and occasionally a bit woozy. But not too bad really. I think the thing that makes her the most sick is thinking about names. That's hard work.

Saturday, November 01, 2003

All Saints & Luther

I've long wondered whether there was any significance to Martin Luther's posting of his 95 theses on the eve of All Saints Day (All Hallows Eve). I still have no conclusive evidence, but I ran across at least the possibility of a more fulfilling story this afternoon while reading Handbook of Christian Feasts and Customs by Francis X. Weiser. All Saints was a feast day established originally by Pope Boniface IV in 606. About two hundred years later, the date was moved from May 1 to November 1 cheifly because of the influx of people to Rome for the feast each year. There was far more food and prosperity at the end of the harvest than in the Spring. At any rate, in addition to this memorial feast, Abbot Father Odilo of Cluny established the celebration of the Faithful Departed or All Souls in 1048 for the Benedictines of his community. The feast was to be held on November 2nd, the day after All Saints. The practice soon spread to other communities of Benedictines and Carthusians, and by the 14th century it was firmly engrained in the fabric of the European church. All Souls, however, was from its inception concerned with those faithfully departed saints particularly in need of our prayers and masses to merit them grace to enter heaven. All Souls has long been concerned for souls in purgatory. Thus the church authorized the issue of special indulgences on All Saints and All Souls, along with various other grave rites and special masses for the souls in purgatory. All that to say, it would make great sense then for Martin Luther to post his theses on the day before All Saints as his concern was rightly directed at the abuses of grace, indulgences, and various other practices and assumptions central to the celebration of All Souls Day. And in God's kindness, Reformation Day is a great precurser to All Saints and All Souls. Luther was instrumental to the renewing and reforming of those feasts of the church, if not in fact, at least in deed. Luther's insistence on the priesthood of all believers (All Saints) and the meritorious work of Christ (All Souls) as central to gospel are a wonderful thematic preface to these historic feasts of the church. By the way, if November 2nd falls on a Sunday (as it does this year) the celebration is postponed until Monday the 3rd which just so happens to be my birthday. So get yourself a German beer or two and have a three day holiday.

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